Many years ago I watched the Mighty beat Swansea 4-0 when they'd appointed a random bloke to be their manager. Now, Critchley is sort of a random bloke, but this bloke was a really random bloke. Pretty much just some fella from nowhere. Way more random than even Ian Brunskill. It's a really good story.
The thing is, I'm not entirely sure what I said above was true. I think I saw that game. I'm pretty confident I did. I've no way of knowing for sure though. I've long since binned my programme and tickets from that era. My dad wouldn't remember if we went to that particular game. There was no GPS phone records or owt like that I could access.
Aside from searching the Gazette Photo archive of the game and seeing me there, I doubt anything could confirm my attendance and even then, not seeing myself wouldn't prove I didn't go. There'll forevermore be an uncertainty in my mind about this match which is a shame, as I'd love to say for sure that I was there the night the players took over at half time from the bloke with the third shortest managerial reign in history. It would be up there with being at the Fall gig at Reading Festival when Mark E Smith sacked his drummer and got a random backstage to play drums. The thing about that was, I know I was there, but at the time, I didn't realise anything had happened as I got there late and the Fall could be a bit of a racket at the best of time. I just assumed it was art or something.
What all of this goes to show is that you can't rely on memory and also, that you probably can't rely on knowing what's going on either, even if it's happening in front of you.
This week I have mostly ignored the world in favour of cricket. Cricket is a lovely antidote to chemical warfare. I say antidote, I mean distraction as I'm not sure strapping on a box and some pads would make much sense if anthrax spores were drifting on the air.
When I was a kid, we went on holiday to Scotland and my dad rented a little fishing boat. We'd sail out into a bay and catch mackerel which we'd cook on a fire when we came to shore. It was good. In the bay was an island and the island had big skull and crossbones signs on it because it was the sight of a research centre in WW2 and apparently still contaminated by anthrax. This, I can remember clear as day, even though I was only 4 at the time.
During WW2 fake news was a thing. Yer man Lord Haw Haw used to broadcast mad shit that wasn't true for example. The video above contains some Allied truth bending... You've never been able to entirely trust what you see, hear and read. The internet has rendered this both more and less true. We can see a million times more things, but from so many more perspectives. Whilst I can't find any pictures of me in the South Paddock in February 1996, I can find so many different versions of so many different truths that I haven't a clue what truth actually is.
The thing is, I'm not entirely sure what I said above was true. I think I saw that game. I'm pretty confident I did. I've no way of knowing for sure though. I've long since binned my programme and tickets from that era. My dad wouldn't remember if we went to that particular game. There was no GPS phone records or owt like that I could access.
 |
| Not the right programme, but I think I had this one as the way 'ooh' Phil Horner is chesting the ball looks really familiar, which would mean I also saw us play Swansea in 1994 but that game has left no memory at all in my mind. |
Aside from searching the Gazette Photo archive of the game and seeing me there, I doubt anything could confirm my attendance and even then, not seeing myself wouldn't prove I didn't go. There'll forevermore be an uncertainty in my mind about this match which is a shame, as I'd love to say for sure that I was there the night the players took over at half time from the bloke with the third shortest managerial reign in history. It would be up there with being at the Fall gig at Reading Festival when Mark E Smith sacked his drummer and got a random backstage to play drums. The thing about that was, I know I was there, but at the time, I didn't realise anything had happened as I got there late and the Fall could be a bit of a racket at the best of time. I just assumed it was art or something.
What all of this goes to show is that you can't rely on memory and also, that you probably can't rely on knowing what's going on either, even if it's happening in front of you.
This week I have mostly ignored the world in favour of cricket. Cricket is a lovely antidote to chemical warfare. I say antidote, I mean distraction as I'm not sure strapping on a box and some pads would make much sense if anthrax spores were drifting on the air.
When I was a kid, we went on holiday to Scotland and my dad rented a little fishing boat. We'd sail out into a bay and catch mackerel which we'd cook on a fire when we came to shore. It was good. In the bay was an island and the island had big skull and crossbones signs on it because it was the sight of a research centre in WW2 and apparently still contaminated by anthrax. This, I can remember clear as day, even though I was only 4 at the time.
Video contains a mad link to Blackpool I didn't know about...
During WW2 fake news was a thing. Yer man Lord Haw Haw used to broadcast mad shit that wasn't true for example. The video above contains some Allied truth bending... You've never been able to entirely trust what you see, hear and read. The internet has rendered this both more and less true. We can see a million times more things, but from so many more perspectives. Whilst I can't find any pictures of me in the South Paddock in February 1996, I can find so many different versions of so many different truths that I haven't a clue what truth actually is.
This brings me to something I've been wondering about. Should we switch off the internet for one or two days a week? Maybe on a Sunday. Or perhaps on Tuesday afternoon. Kind of like half day closing used to be. Half day closing was weird. I remember going to somewhere near Warrington with my mum to get something, then my mum raging as it was half day closing. When did that stop?
I have to say, the internet has bought us some good stuff - long winded, really pointless football blogs, wikipedia, that Hitler video people do funny words for, but it's also undermined the concept of democracy, turned people into weird self obsessed sub categories of humanity and meant no one ever has to concede they're wrong again ever, about anything, cos no matter what you think, you'll always find someone else to agree with you.
On balance, being able to access MCLF vs the future of civilisation is a tough decision, but personally, whilst I like the internet, I'd be well up for a day or two without it once in a while. Shops being open all the time is shite too.
In conclusion, I wouldn't be surprised if Critch ditched 442 because he's got a strong record against Russell Martin from playing 1 up front. I also don't really understand why people think Russell Martin is dead good, because every time I've seen one of his teams play, it's been really boring.
I have to say, the internet has bought us some good stuff - long winded, really pointless football blogs, wikipedia, that Hitler video people do funny words for, but it's also undermined the concept of democracy, turned people into weird self obsessed sub categories of humanity and meant no one ever has to concede they're wrong again ever, about anything, cos no matter what you think, you'll always find someone else to agree with you.
On balance, being able to access MCLF vs the future of civilisation is a tough decision, but personally, whilst I like the internet, I'd be well up for a day or two without it once in a while. Shops being open all the time is shite too.
In conclusion, I wouldn't be surprised if Critch ditched 442 because he's got a strong record against Russell Martin from playing 1 up front. I also don't really understand why people think Russell Martin is dead good, because every time I've seen one of his teams play, it's been really boring.
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