Cod Almighty | Diary

I'm afraid I was very, very drunk

11 October 2013

Mardy Diary writes: In Macca's autobiography he talks of his formative years at the club as a youth team player who was expected to bring pots of tea to the changing room after the match for the first team. He makes a comment about how there'd always be one or two players in there having a smoke after the game.

We read that, shake our head in mild disbelief and have a chuckle about how it was so different. Back in the 1950s it wasn't unusual for players to be drinking in the pub with the fans before the game. Of course, you wouldn't get that behaviour these days. Right?

Then it's reported that Jack Wilshere was caught having a smoke outside some shady nightclub and suddenly there's uproar. A footballer having a cigarette? This is an outrage. Immediately he has to make a statement to say that it was such a big mistake and that he didn't inhale so it didn't count, etc etc.

Personally I wonder what the fuss is. There's a line of argument that it sets a bad example for kids, but footballers in general are such utterly terrible role models for young kids that having a crafty fag is hardly going to tip the balance.

The other argument is that he's a professional sportsman so he shouldn't be seen smoking or drinking or generally taking any sort of pleasure in life. However, should we start to question whether all this sports science and nutrition bollocks has really had a positive effect on the game?

Macca talks about how Town were quite old-fashioned in their approach until Lennie Lawrence came in and introduced proper diet plans and professional training routines using fancy new equipment (this all sounds a bit middle management to me). And of course, once Lennie installed this new regime we shot up the table, gaining promotion to the Premier League and never looked back. Except we didn't. We've gone backwards ever since.

Now I'm not suggesting that the club has suffered multiple relegations due to modern fitness methods. To my eyes, however, the quality of English football across the board hasn't improved noticeably due to these changes to exercise and diet. Instead, footballers have become athletes – fine for the athletics track, but not so good for football.

Have you never wondered why England seem able to produce an endless supply of players who can run quickly down the wing but fail to deliver the ball into the box? Or even take the ball with them?

The point I'm trying to make is that you don't have to be a super athlete, who can run constantly for 90-odd minutes, to be a decent footballer. When we look back at UK-born players with skill and flair we think of Best and Gazza. Both had extravagant lifestyles, neither of which impacted on their ability to pass a football with style.

Closer to home, Peter Handyside was considered a 'cultured' defender, but was often reported as being out with Tony Gallimore boozing and smoking. And I was once overtaken on the flyover near the Telegraph by a Fiat-driving, chain-smoking Thomas Pinault a few hours before a match. It's true that The Frenchman may have gone missing in the occasional match – but he could play a decent ball or two when he did show up. No running necessary.

Obviously a decent team needs a balance of players, and you're always going to need a workhorse or two on the pitch. But what I'm arguing for English football is that we need to introduce a few more heavy-smoking-and-drinking flair players. These are your artistes of the game, the philosophers and poets of passing: flawed, troubled, drunk with a crumpled packet of ciggies in their top pocket and a drawer full of opiates... but entertaining to watch and skilful in their art.

And if anyone wants to argue against my case by suggesting Gallimore, then I'll take Gallimore and you can have Ronnie Bull. Have a good weekend.