Dec 232010
 

An AGM in these testing times? Is the Pittodrie Board some sort of masochist collective? David Innes reports on the lack of blood and hair on the walls at the 107th Dons AGM held this week.

Before the meeting’s business got underway, a select few of us agreed that had the board not recruited Brown and Knox last week, the chairman would have been issuing SMG construction hard hats to his top table peers, such is the anger among fans about how this season has slumped from hope to despair.

Out of respect for the new managers who attended, but were not called on to speak, politeness and reason prevailed.

The main business such meetings is formal and, to be honest, dull. Suffice to say, directors Milne, Buchan and Gilbert were re-elected and the current beancounters Deloitte and Touche approved as auditors.

The real meat of the AGM is always in the questions from the floor, and this year’s subjects were predictable, which does not mean dull or uninteresting, given the club’s current position.

Directors are not renowned for being wholly open. Like many politicians, they will tell you what they want to tell you rather than answer the questions posed. There were hints of that, although to be fair, not all the floor questions were questions, rather statements of opinion, which made them hard to answer.

On the new stadium, we were informed that staying at AB24 5QH is a non-starter in that new regulations would see the crowd capacity cut to 12000, the disruption during redevelopment would be considerable and that funding it would be impossible. No mention of the destruction of Loirston’s beauty and tranquillity though.

…along with the forecasts for inflation, there may well have to be a rethink. Or a downsize

The funding rationale for The Aberdeen Voice Arena (aye, OK…) didn’t totally stack up either. Pittodrie’s value in the club accounts is a generous £17m, but this had mysteriously inflated to “around £20m” in the chairman’s review, although this did include, he said, another share issue and a mortgage.

Naming rights, and one can only guess at what corporate horror that will be, letting of spare office capacity and other – unspecified – gains from Loirston developments will net another £15m. Funny, I thought £38m was the last estimate I saw and with The Big Society’s VAT rise coming up in a few days time along with the forecasts for inflation, there may well have to be a rethink. Or a downsize. To 12000 capacity, perhaps?

On fitba matters, The Best Number 6 Ever gave his views, although only once did he admit that we do not have enough experience in the squad. Interesting though his contribution was, his focus was almost exclusively on youth development, which in itself is a very good thing, but will not get us out of the current downhill arse over tit panic in which we’re stuck. His claim that seven of the current first 22 are contributing well to the top team is tenuous – Paton has failed to develop, Megginson and Robertson are loons trying to do a man’s job, and the latter and Ryan Jack could have their careers ruined before they start through the trauma of having to cope with train wreck performances around them week upon week. Hints of new signings in January – also mentioned by Archie Knox when I buttonholed him for a short chat after the meeting – may help us finish somewhere between 7th and 9th (8th?) but did not seem to hold out hope of any sort of breakthrough success for a drifting, dozing club.

Hindsight’s a fabulous musing pastime but doesn’t help us get out of the torpor we’re in. We are where we are. We have a large debt underwritten by two major corporate shareholders with nobody seemingly willing to step forward and offer an alternative to the stagnation this engenders. In the wider context, the SPL is a devalued competition, destined to be won by the bully boys in perpetuity unless someone grows a pair and has a go at their warm fuzzy duopoly.

The 107th AGM suggests that this won’t be Aberdeen FC.

Dec 172010
 

By David Innes.

On Dexys Midnight Runners’ 1982 fiddle-fest Too Rye Ay, Kevin Rowland, with remarkable prescience nailed down the dilemma that Dons fans are facing following the appointment of Craig Brown and Archie Knox to replace Mark McGhee in the dugout and padded Team Recruitment jacket….

Old, may I sit down here and learn today? I’ll hear all you say, I won’t go away (Old)

You’re the voice of experience, every word you choose….. (Liars A to E)

So, is this pairing old, or experienced?

That they are both in the twilight of their years in football cannot be questioned, Brown is already 70 and Knox is 63, but these are men who have kept abreast of every development in football and approach the game from a contemporary angle. I have no doubt that they will stiffen up our midfield and defence and with a bit of wily wheeling and dealing stop the rot and nudge the Dons to a place of relative SPL sanctuary.

Brown has said that he wants the players to be happy and for the fans to enjoy spectating again. That will be tough. Spirits are low in the squad, confidence has been shattered and there is dangerous apathy among the fans, whose passion in the past has helped drag previous underachieving disgraces to the Sacred Red from the edge of the abyss more than once.

Both know football psychology in and out. Whilst the perception is that there will be a good cop-bad cop culture with Knox in the enforcer role, Brown’s spine of steel must have reminded Motherwell fans that their town used to make the stuff, for he too is capable of being a hard man. His preference though, is to get inside the minds of players – there’s often plenty room in there – find out which buttons need pressing and to work with them to build their strengths and underpin their weaknesses. He is no sentimentalist though and it would be no surprise to see some of the current squad being ‘allowed to leave’ if they cannot or will not accept the changes the pair will bring in.

The next few fixtures, Motherwell at home, Hibs away, Hamilton away and Dundee United at home will be a huge test, not of Brown and Knox’s abilities, but of the players’ attitudes, of their personal and professional pride, of their resilience and their willingness to try to keep the fans, well short of patience, backing them.

We can all point the finger at the Board, which will make Monday evening’s AGM ‘interesting’, we can carp and argue about managerial appointments and man-management techniques, can put forward ideas on emotional intelligence, but come 2.55 every Saturday, or whatever time Murdoch dictates matches will kick off, the only club representatives who can do anything about the Dons’ situation are the players. And they’d better not fail us.

Dec 172010
 

Last week Aberdeen Voice brought you our first ever prize competition, and the time has come to announce our two lucky winners; each of whom will receive a copy of Stuart Donald’s excellent book ‘On Fire With Fergie’.

Voice’s Dave Innes reviews here. https://aberdeenvoice.com/2010/08/on-fire-with-fergie/

We asked: Against which European opposition did fallen idol Mark McGhee score a Pittodrie hat trick in 1984’s European Cup-Winners’ Cup?

Of all the entries offering the correct answer ‘Ujpest Dosza’, the two winners selected at random were:

Alan McGowan, and Brian Murison.

Aberdeen Voice would like to thank everyone who entered our first competition, and  offer congratulations to the winners. To the unsuccessful entrants; better luck next time! Here’s hoping, whoever you support (other than Motherwell), that Saturday afternoon brings some consolation.

Dec 102010
 

David Innes presents Voice’s historic first online competition….

Thanks to a generous offer from publishers Hachette, we have two signed copies of Stuart Donald’s rather wonderful book On Fire With Fergie to give away as prizes, just in time for Christmas.

We reviewed it here https://aberdeenvoice.com/2010/08/on-fire-with-fergie/ after attending the book launch https://aberdeenvoice.com/2010/08/stuart-donald-charms-the-richard-donald/

We liked it a lot. So will you. In fact, why haven’t you bought it already? Time’s a bit tight, so the competition will be open for entry for one week only. Just use our contact form and send to the competition address,  with the subject of Footie Competition

So that we can remember him in happier circumstances:

Against which European opposition did fallen idol Mark McGhee score a Pittodrie hat trick in 1984’s European Cup-Winners’ Cup?

You’ll need to include a home address so that we can post the book to you if you’re a winner. And no, we can’t post it down the fibre optic cable, you gype. We won’t publish details other than your name, of course.

There, easier than Fix The Ball.

Two winners will be drawn from all the correct entries, and we’ll announce the winners next Friday (17 December), give the publishers your details and hope that Santa arrives early.

All the usual rules apply – family members of Voice regulars aren’t eligible to take part (sorry, Granny, you’ll have to buy your own copy) and we’re not open to bribery or coercion.

Good luck.

Dec 032010
 

So, another one bites the dust…The cycle continues… Sack. Hire. Don’t back. Fire.
Put that to a 120BPM scratch beat and you’ve got a rap smash. Shall we say 20%?

Angry and Frustrated of .com (OK, OK, it’s resident fitba curmudgeon David Innes) gives his take on this week’s everyday tale of Pittodrie folk.

This time it’s Mark McGhee, brought to the club in June 2009 to “take us to the next level”. Was he capable? We’ll never know, for once again, we’ll be doling out a considerable six figure sum to bin a management team rather than allocate it to where it’s most needed – the playing budget.

With £400,000 at his disposal, I’m sure McGhee would have had us far higher up the table than we are. What we can almost guarantee is that having spent what appears to be over £2 million in compensating both Jimmies and Sandy Clark, weighing in with a wedge to prise Dingus from Fir Park and now filling his and the bank accounts of Leitch and Meldrum, we won’t be spending on contractual compensation when it comes to hiring this time.

Where does that leave us? Pretty much with those who are not in meaningful full-time club employment and who won’t need their clubs compensating. John Hughes? Binned by Hibs for a horrendous start to the season – would he do any better here? Billy Stark? Relegated St Johnstone and manages under-21 loons for fewer than ten games per year. Gordon Strachan – I think he wants to stay as far away from football as possible. That might of course make him a contender, since there’s not been much coincident with the finer points of the game at AB24 5QH in the past few years.

I had high hopes for Mark. His introductory press conference oozed ambition. He didn’t want to start the season droning the losers’ mantra about finishing third. He wanted to challenge “them”, he wanted to use home-reared players to add energy and spark to a squad and if necessary sell them on to allow purchase of others for the overall good of the squad. Hard-bitten hacks were almost in tears and I swear that Willie Miller was behind the scenes manipulating a C90 cassette tape as the haunting melodies of The Northern Lights of Old Aberdeen and Jerusalem played softly in the background. Maybe I made up that last bit.

Given that he inherited a squad decimated by transfers – Nicholson, Severin, Hart, Clark – and had no time to get replacements signed before the transfer window closed last season, McGhee was forgiven by those who actually think about the situation if not by those whose first instinct is to replace the manager. In summer 2010, he signed a formidable number of players, some of whom have been successes – Folly, Hartley and Vernon – and others who have found it more difficult to match their skills to the SPL. November’s been a torrid month. Apart from the results, the injury list has not eased and there have been key suspensions. The squad must currently number around 18, and the average squad age cannot be much more than that.

Hicham Zerouali lit up the SPL with his outrageous fitba conjuring act

I’m not making excuses, I’m just pointing out that those who make the decisions have panicked and followed the only path they know, with little thought, it seems, given to where we go now. They have failed to match the manager’s ambition, and he’s the fall guy.

Ten years ago, we endured the depths of despair as Ebbe Skovdahl’s first season saw us finish bottom of the SPL, even though we reached both cup finals and experienced some thrills as the likes of the late Hicham Zerouali lit up the SPL with his outrageous fitba conjuring act. As we gnashed our teeth, our families’ teeth, the teeth of close friends and neighbours, we were promised that the new post-Bosman reality had kicked in and that the Dons were at the forefront in pioneering a new financial model which would match wages to hard facts economics and that we would outstrip our high-spending, deep-in-debt rivals as they too had to change.

Well, since then we’ve had the misery of bottom six finishes, harrowing cup defeats, dreadful football, some of the worst players in my forty five years supporting the Dons wear the sacred red and a litany of managers who have not counted among their abilities the skills necessary to turn base metal or straw into gold, or even silverware. Those profligate rivals occupy the ten places above us in the SPL.

There have been two constants during this time – the Board of Directors and the club’s continuing willingness to soak the fans for ever-higher admission prices with improvement neither to the standard of football nor the club’s position.

Imagine, if you will, we had, say, a leading builder on the board, would he continue to charge the same or higher prices for his houses during a recession and a dip in demand? If, perchance, a couple of international financial investment gurus were on our board, do you think that they would fail to speculate to accumulate when they returned from the board lunch to manage their clients’ investment portfolios?

Other opinions are available, but mine is right.

Nov 262010
 

Ever-mindful of the need for Voice’s readership to get their letters up the lum shortly, David Innes tries a lucky dip in his book review in-tray and picks out:

The Management – Scotland’s Great Football Bosses by Michael Grant and Rob Robertson. Birlinn. 418 pages. £18.99.

When it comes to fitba literature, a term which itself looks like an oxymoron, I can normally race through books in the manner of a marauding Arthur Graham terrorising First Division full backs in 1971. The Management does not lend itself to such cursory treatment.

Grant and Robertson are proper journalists, you see. They have pride in their craft, a genuine love for their subject and back up their writing with well-researched fact-based insights rather than red top reader-baiting populist conjecture. This is a serious work which demands your attention.

The premise is that Scotland, diminutive in population and hardly a world fitba power despite our often inflated boasts, has produced far more than its fair share of iconic managers with trophy hauls and reputations to match. The Management doesn’t stop there. The authors analyse these great figures’ shared backgrounds in mining, heavy engineering and working class hardship and conclude that the trust, comradeship and leadership skills forged in these often brutal environments provided the ideal grounding for commanding respect in the dressing room and on the training pitch.

Whilst The Management gives deserved coverage of the careers, personalities and backgrounds of the giants – Busby, Shankly, Stein and Ferguson – Grant and Robertson are not tempted to leave it at that.

Who, beyond those Old Firm fans who have mastered the art of reading, knows all that much about Parkhead stalwart Willie Maley’s 52 (aye, that’s fifty two) years in charge of Celtic, or Bill Struth’s benign dictatorship of the mid twentieth century Ibrox monolith? Who was George Ramsay and why does Aston Villa have a lion rampant on its club crest? What IS ‘The Largs Mafia’, and why is it regarded disdainfully in Scotland by the hard of thinking whilst it’s revered throughout Europe and beyond?

Others, regarded as minor footnotes in fitba folklore, are also featured.  Although almost viewed as caricatures due to their public images, sketches of John Lambie, Jim Leishman and our own blessed Ally McLeod show that these guys were no fools, that they had a deep understanding of the game, stoical resilience, but an innate ability to laugh at themselves and not take the world too seriously. It’s only a game, right?

There are laugh out loud moments too. Who could possibly suppress a hysterical hoot at the mental image of Dons-era Fergie, raging in the away dressing room at Forfar at half time, telling a reserve player,“Get those fucking pants off your head”, not realising that it was his own trashing of a laundry basket that had caused the kecks to land on the loon and that he was too terrified to remove them?

This is a serious work which demands your attention

I would also have given a sizeable wedge to charity to have witnessed Jim Traynor’s riposte on ‘shite’ and ‘socialism’ to a bullying Graeme Souness as Traynor was barred from Ibrox press conferences for refusing to tow the party line.

The Management is several cuts above the average ghost-written, bland memoirs typical of players and managers who feel they have something to offer us. For those who demand higher standards and a cerebral take on some huge personalities, it’s an essential volume.

Nov 262010
 

Voice’s David Innes, a sometime bastard in the black, looks at this week’s threatened strike by SPL referees after weeks of controversy.

When Willie Collum sent Rory McArdle off at Pittodrie last week, I joined with the rest of the fair-minded, judicious and sagely punters of Section Y in ranting foul-mouthedly about the ref’s dubious lineage, his resemblance to both male and female external reproductive organs and the fact that were he ever to join the Mile High Club, it would be a solo flight.

I was not the worst, but I held my own. Just as we were accusing him of doing, I suppose. That’s where it ended though. No matter what resentment I felt at Collum’s performance, it’s over, it’s in the past and I’m now more concerned about where we’ll be in the table come the festive season.
I think that’s the way most fans take these things. We rage when things go against us but suffer memory blanks for decisions which have gone in our favour. We rant, we rave, we slaver and gnash our teeth, but accept it stoically as part of the game. And we should not forget that it IS just a game.

I cannot understand what goes on in the minds of supporters who insist on taking these things further, to the extent of threatening referees, their homes and property and their families. What sort of empty lives must such individuals and mobs lead to make them behave in such a way? I’m as fanatical as the next fan about my team, I love to see them winning – and it will happen again, believe – and can take defeat badly especially against certain teams.

Of course, I have long held the opinion that those who wish to associate themselves with the alien and discriminatory cultures at certain successful clubs, having no local or cultural affinity with those clubs have something missing from their lives anyway, but that is another debate.

Referees are now threatening to strike because they feel their integrity has been called into question. Dougie McDonald has admitted lying and should resign. That would not be the end of the matter, I’m sure, despite what some influential people claim. Before long, some other poor sap in black would be accused of being part of the conspiracy against whoever feels slighted and who cannot accept that some days you’re the doo and on others, you’re the statue.

Being called a wanker by 10-year olds quickly loses its precocious charm

Do I support the strike? Yes, and not just because of the high profile issue currently exciting Jimmy Inarticulate, first-time caller by the way Jim, and readers of the Daily Paps.

In years gone by, as a fitba coach asked to referee games every week, I thought I’d better do the knowledge and make sure that every time I blew the Acme Thunderer that I knew what the hell I was deciding. I went over to the Dark Side, turned from poacher to gamie, took the king’s shilling and became a bastard in the black. It was great fun. I learned a lot. I found out that playground-ingrained received wisdom was, well, not really wise at all.

I didn’t last too long doing it as a favour to kids’ teams though. Being called a wanker by 10-year olds quickly loses its precocious charm. Dealing with boorish coaches who believed they were Alex Ferguson and who seemed intent on acting out their own fitba fantasies by instructing bairns to kick and maim other bairns saddened me. Doing the right thing by talking to players, telling ‘keepers, “Aye, it’s OK to pick it up, it wisna a pass back” or taking 5 minutes at half time to instruct a constantly-infringing team on the correct way to take a throw-in but being abused by grown men on the sidelines for so doing wasn’t an ideal way to spend a sleety Sunday morning at Aulton.

Watching 9 year olds dive outrageously to try to win penalties (not on MY watch, sonny) and adopt other “professional” insidiousness they had seen on Murdoch TV disillusioned me. It did the same to many of my peers who began with less cynicism than I had. We just became “unavailable” when asked. The message got through quickly enough and the calls stopped.

It begins at that level. It reaches its pathetic zenith at professional level. Someone’s going to get hurt and by then it will be too late for recriminations and hand-wringing.

Have your strike, comrades. It’s unlikely that I’ll be at an SPL game this week, but I’d happily join in the “scab” chants at the shoehorned-in replacements who will be adding to the problem rather than help solve it.

Nov 052010
 

Books of interest to Dons fans are being published in ever-increasing numbers at the moment. David Innes advises Reds to remember this when writing to Santa next month.

As probably the last Dons striker who fans would have crawled over broken glass to watch perform some mundane dressing room activity such as tying up his socks, Duncan Shearer’s story is told in straightforward style, co-written by Paul Smith.

Fitba biographies are rarely controversial and the stories we really want to hear are inevitably kept from us. Shearer Wonderland is little different although Duncan expresses fairly strong views about his former boss Steve Paterson and that individual’s unfortunate personal problems, and doesn’t hold back when criticising former colleague John Inglis.

He also questions, as many of us do, the wisdom of spending precious cash on a Director of Football when the playing budget is pared to the bone. This is, however, no personal criticism of the current post-holder who Duncan describes as one of the most thorough and passionate managers for whom he played.

However, Duncan’s stint at Pittodrie was only a fleeting part of a long career and he gives insights to his life as a professional at Chelsea, Huddersfield, Swindon and Blackburn. Especially interesting are his reminisces of the financial side of a game which was much simpler then and his reaction to the different managerial styles of those he served, including Lou Macari and Osvaldo Ardiles.

Of course, the chapters about his time in the sacred red will be of most interest to Voice readers. His love for the club he eventually joined in the latter stages of his career, and which he was eventually to manage with Steve Paterson, is obvious. If you were there, you’ll know what a godsend a striker of Shearer’s ability and power was, and how much he was adored.

This affection was reciprocated and Shearer believes that his relationship with the fans was due as much to his refusal to stay aloof from supporters but to mingle with them socially, eschewing the hip footballers’ nightspots and lifestyle. Although he scored in our last trophy win, he is adamant that his most important Dons goal was the one which effectively put despicable Dundee United rather than the Dons into the First Division in 1995. And so say all of us.

Someone could have proof-read it better though – Neale Cooper is Peterheid’s manager – Neil Cooper is youth coach.

There are also intensely personal passages about the poverty of working class Lochaber and his parents’ struggle to survive financially and of traumatic family tragedies. Never forgetting his roots, there is significant coverage of his time in the Highland League as a Clachnacuddin player and as manager of Buckie Thistle.

Shearer Wonderland is well worth reading and it’s refreshing to read the life story of one of life’s good guys who appreciates the hand fate dealt him. Altogether now…”It’s a goal, Duncan Shearer….”

Shearer Wonderland. Duncan Shearer – The Autobiography. Black and White Publishing. 247 pages. £14.99. Co-written by Paul Smith.


Oct 152010
 

David Innes Reviews Donald Wilson’s New Book about AFC, Nairn and Inverness Caley hero Davy Johnston.

When Dons fans of a certain age reminisce about their heroes of the1960s, this can be a short discussion. Certainly Charlie Cooke would be mentioned, maybe Jinky Smith and, at a pinch, the young Martin Buchan, although his major successes were still three or four years into the future.

Heroes were thin on the ground at Pittodrie during those barren years. However, as a loon growing up obsessed with the late 60s squad, they were all heroes to me, and among them was Davy Johnston, whose goal-packed career is commemorated in Donald Wilson’s affectionate tribute.

Davy, you see, was a hero to hundreds, if not thousands, long before he made his Aberdeen debut shortly after signing in late 1966. He was already a legend in the Highland League, where his goals and influence on the great Nairn County side of the early and mid-60s are still remembered by those fortunate enough to have witnessed this very special player. He was Donald Wilson’s hero too, and as Morrissey once warbled, it’s time the tale were told.

Drawing on formidable local press research and anecdotal evidence from star witnesses such as Davy’s contemporaries and fans at Nairn, Aberdeen and Inverness Caley, Wilson paints a picture of a prodigiously-gifted footballer whose modesty almost outweighed his talent. Unfortunately, so did his lack of self-belief and his inability to come to terms with the demands of the city and the expectations of a full-time footballer ultimately saw him return to his Highland League comfort zone after less than three years in the sacred red. Happily, Johnston carried on where he left off and he thrilled Highland League fans for a further seven seasons, playing a bit part in Nairn’s finest hour, their dramatic clinching of the 1976 championship.

I was privileged to have seen Davy in his prime at Pittodrie, and in his Highland League heyday and it still saddens me that he did not go on to be the success that his talent deserved. For those who missed out, Pittodrie’s Silent Assassin tells the whole tale in a very readable and superbly-researched style. There should be much more of this sort of thing.

Pittodrie’s Silent Assassin – Davy Johnston. By Donald Wilson. Desert Island Books. www.desertislandbooks.com 160 pp. £14.99.

Oct 152010
 

By Aberdeen-Mad Editor Craig Stewart.

One way of looking at football is that it is an incredibly complex equation involving tactics, balance of players, skill, experience, work rate. trust, scouting, coaching and so on. Another perfectly valid view is that it is very simple – the best teams are the ones that pay the most wages.

With our club in a seemingly interminable period of transition – a relentlessly confusing and frustrating time for fans – it has been hinted that there are magic beans which can help the situation and put AFC back where we can challenge the big boys again. The beans will grow into a new stadium, the massive debt that has shackled the Dons since the mid-90’s will be removed and the club will be profitable and free to challenge the giants once again. The only problem is – where to plant the beans?

In a purely clinical, scientific [and somewhat simplistic] analysis of the situation, this is a no-brainer for supporters – build the stadium wherever you want as long as it’s now! However we have hearts and souls as well as minds and while Pittodrie Stadium may be a big old wreck with faded seats, patched-up roofs and windy, piss-puddled toilets, it is what we call ‘home’-not just for two hours every second Saturday but every day of our Dons-supporting lives.

We have witnessed the greatest highs and experienced the darkest lows; some of us have dated, proposed, got married and taken the resulting children on their first awe-struck steps down the Merkland Road. Nostalgic twaddle? To those outwith football, of course it is. But moving to a new stadium does not affect these people, it affects us.

However, most of us are not completely blinded by nostalgia. A poll on the Aberdeen-Mad website a couple of years back showed that the vast majority wanted a new stadium either at the Pittodrie site or at nearby Kings Links. We are told, however, that these options are not deliverable and Loirston Loch has been chosen instead.

Opinion is split on whether this is a good idea or not. The lack of any great strength of feeling against the move Covewards is telling in itself. There have been no great demonstrations on match days whatsoever despite the plans being public knowledge for many months. Meanwhile, there are plenty fans on the web forums who are vehemently against it, but there are many who support it too. However, the majority appear to display a tacit, resigned acceptance that this has to happen and a willingness to see it through, albeit with a sadness and confusion about the reasons behind it.

The inner turmoil of the supporter on this matter is precisely that we are told that to escape from the quagmire of mediocrity the club has been stuck in for two decades; we must jettison the ballast of sentiment. It is presented as a straight choice between being rooted in the past and looking forward to  future success.

Pittodrie Stadium is the physical embodiment of the glory days of being a Dons fan; to have it ripped down seems unpalatable but is it less palatable than the current on-field mediocrity?