October 2008 Archives

Forgive me for being a little distracted.

I'm tapping this ditty infront of the TV which is showing Tom Baker's last episode as Doctor Who.

An Aussie air hostess called Tegan has broken down on her way to work and just wandered into a roadside Tardis with her mother, as you do. But there's a problem.

Some sort of space time anomoly has meant that the tardis landed twice. And the air hostess' mother and a police constable who tried to use the phone, have been turned into miniature dolls by The Master.

I can hardly keep my eyes on the keyboard. (For those of you still lost, and I include myself in this, the year is 1982. In a Villa context that means Bayern Munich not Litex Lovech)

Anyway, it's been a strange old few weeks. Not least Roy Kinnear back in the limelight. I liked him in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory as Henry Salt. Good grounding for Newcastle, if you ask me.

"So what makes you think you can run this football club?", asks Mike Ashley in the interview. "What have you been doing since you left Nottingham Forest in such a healthy state?".

"Urmmmmm..... I took up origami? Oh and dog walking."

Ashley turns to aide and whispers: "Probably too qualified- some of the players have labradors".

I actually met Joe in a pub in North London a couple of years ago, the Orange Tree in Totteridge after Villa had played at Arsenal. It was in an area reeking with money. Arsene Wenger lives close by. A pint of white beer cost £4 even back then.

The bar-maid helped herself to one as I kindly suggested: "and one for yourself"- It hadn't even been my round. The poor reporter I travelled with (it was his round) has never forgiven me.

I shuffled to Kinnear's table and introduced myself. Chalming bloke. He was interested in the Albion job before they appointed Tony Mowbray. Close shave there then.

Still Kinnear's CV since has been just as impressive as David O'Leary's. Newcastle don't know how lucky they are.

I'm not sure what was oddest: George Boateng on stage at Stevie Wonder's NIA gig in Birmingham, or Jloyd Samuel performing a totally legitimate tackle. (I didn't believe it until I saw a replay on that fine rolling service they call Sky Sports News).

I'm still not quite sure what Boateng was doing with the music maestro. Something to do with honouring the first black footballer to play in England a hundred or so years ago. Perhaps Cyrille Regis was unavailable? Perhaps Cyrille told them he was more into Marvin Gaye?

Boateng even performed a little speech. He even mentioned Aston Villa. I'm sure the Stevie Wonder fans loved it just as much as "Superstition". (There's me thinking I'd gone to a concert, sorry youths make that "gig").

As for Samuel. Cracking challenge on that slimy toad Ronaldo. A pity the referee got it in the neck from Gary Megson and then the rest of the press. I'd have thought after such a theatrical tumble the player might just have got a little criticism.

Sir Alex Ferguson praises the referee for owning up to his error.... that's big of him. Easy when you've won 2-0.

("I'm running round and round like a hamster in a cage!"- Tegan says. She is caught up in the Tardis as the Doctor is being followed by a mummyfied figure on what looks like London Bridge)

Somethings never change. A rugby player has been banned for 18 weeks for trying to take something out of another player's eye. Not a speck of dirt, but his retina.

And another round of international matches are afoot and Jonny Wilkinson and Wayne Rooney have picked up injuries. I'm sure Fergie will make sure Wayne is ready to face the might of Belarus.

The early shout is for the gravitationallly-challenged Ashley Young to profit. I'd say that makes sense.

(The Tardis has just been shrunk to the size of a tea cup on Logopolis- And the Docor is Inside!!!!)

Young was terrific down at Tottenham a few weeks back. Vedrun Corluka must be sick of the sight of him after facing him in a Man City shirt on the opening day.

Ahhh! Tottenham. Stayed the night at Wembley because some bright spark in the Villa media department thought it was a bright idea. No names, let's call in Bob Rishop.

"Is your money safe?" was the Radio 5 phone-in the following morning as Mr 'Rishop' and me travelled back up the M40.

"Mine is", I told 'Bob'. "£50 quid of it is sitting on the bed-side table of that taxi driver we called at Tottenham last night to take us back to Wembley!"

Six days later we were at Albion for the derby. Good side Albion. Play it on the floor. Leon Barnett was playing it on the floor anyway, and the ball was 6'5" in the air on the end of John Carew's bonce.

Great press facilities at The Hawthorns. Best in the land. Better than Arsenal (generally regarded as the best), better than Manchester United (some way down the pecking order), better than Manchester City (somewhere near the top), better than Portsmouth (at the bottom), better than Blues (alongside Portsmouth).

Albion might justifiably have spent that £3.2million to upgrade the Halfords Lane Stand on a centre-back, but the fact that they did sends out a clear message to anyone visiting that the club aim to be seen as 'Big Time' and 'Here to Stay'.

Gabby Agbonlahor has the profession of his mother questioned by some idiots in the form or a chant. But the same player had earlier decided to run the length of the Birmingham Road End, cupping his ears after scoring. So who's to blame?

His post-match comments were entertaining. He'd only choose Pele above John Carew.

A week later and Curtis Davies says Ashley Young is as good as Ronaldo. Reminds me of the England squad that tried to sneak songs into every interview.

What next? Friedel as good as Yashin? Reo-Coker as good as Maradona? Zat Knight as good as.......Stacey North?! Surely not.

It's hectic week and-a-half covering Villa and Albion for the Mail. Thankfully Chris is now back.

At some point in the future I would like to find out whether it is Kim De-Heon, as in the official programme, or De-Heon Kim, as in the team-sheet.

Anyway, must dash. The Doctor has been tricked by The Master.

What now?! He's climbing up an electricity pylon and he's fallen.

AND HE'S TURNED INTO PETER DAVISON.