Berti puts foot in his mouth

Sunday Herald, The, Sep 12, 2004 by Tom Shields'

The performance by Berti Vogts off the park appears to be as erratic as his team's efforts on it. When Mr Berti should be straining every sinew to get us through to Germany 2006, he has been expending unnecessary energy being petulant with the sporting press.

He refused to take part in a press conference because of the presence of David Leggatt, a scribbler with a racy Sunday tabloid, whose words he had found offensive. We are not privy to the actual proceedings since the Sports Diary is not affiliated to Lodge Scottish Football Writers. But it appears Mr Berti wanted Leggatt to apologise, or be nice to him in future, or something like that.

Der Terrier should know that this is not how things are done in the murky world of football journalism. The trick, as Jock Stein and Alex Ferguson know, is to exert such an influence upon the hacks that they would never dare take them on in print.

For mere mortal managers, there is a familiar ritual. If you don't like what a journo is writing, you ban them. This allows the journalist to move on to the moral high ground (or the moral molehill as it is in football-scribing) and make noises about editorial independence, freedom of speech, and inalienable right to express opinions. The writer benefits from 15 minutes of fame as The Man They Can't Gag and after a few weeks the ban is lifted and it's business as usual.

Fitba and music gang thegither, as Rabbie Burns used to say when he was a casual at Somerset Park. So, it is no surprise to hear that part of Stirling Albion's upsurge in fortunes is down to manager Allan Moore playing Neil Diamond numbers to his squad. The surprising element is that Moore is not using the Diamond tunes as a cruel and unusual punishment for failure but as an incentive.

We can understand the inspirational qualities in a football context of a song called Beautiful Noise and even I'm A Believer. Any member of the squad would be up for a rendition of Play Me. But Diamond's anthem Song Sung Blue seems less than appropriate for a team who play in red and white.

Moore's ministrations seem to be working as the team steam ahead in the Second Division and he lifted the August Manager of the Month award. Yet another track from the Neil Diamond discography springs to mind: Amazed and Confused.

Also on the musical front, Middlesbrough FC have gone all democratic and are allowing fans to choose the club's celebratory soundbite. That's the quick blast of music after a goal which brings joy to the home terracings and rubs visitors' noses in misery ever so slightly.

First the club asked for nominations. The long list included such predictable and verging on the cliched ditties as Status Quo's Rockin' All Over the World, Roll With It (also known as the soup song) by Oasis, and Queen's We Will Rock You.

Wagner's Ride Of The Valkyries was suggested and might appeal to those who love the smell of embrocation in the morning. Franz Ferdinand are everywhere these days and they were nominated with Take Me Out, which sounds more like a celebration of a Graeme Souness tackle than a goal. Welcome to the Jungle by Guns'n'Roses was mentioned but seems more fitting for the football stadium where Juninho, the former Riverside hero, now plies his trade.

Of all the nominations, the Sports Diary was most taken by the theme tune from Cap'n Pugwash. Unfortunately the old sea dog did not make it to the short list. The four tunes - on which they will vote this week in time for the club's first European match - are Woo Hoo by the 5,6,7,8s; Eat My Goal by Collapsed Lung; Jump Around by House of Pain; and Because We Can by Fatboy Slim.

Most of them sound like a load of rap to us, but that could be a generational thing. Woo Hoo should probably win it on the literary merit of its lyrics.

Just when you think the David Beckham earnings phenomenon cannot get more bizarre, does the boy not go and sign a (pounds) 7m a year deal with Gillette just for shaving his head.

Gillette say it is a lot less than that but we prefer to trust the Spanish sporting press since we are sure they would never exaggerate. Beckham's pocket money from Gillette is double the entire annual budget for Numancia, the new boys to La Liga who played Real Madrid last night.

There is a plus side to Beckham's sojourn in Spain. It has prompted publication of two readable books. The first is When Beckham Went to Spain by Jimmy Burns. It is not quite of the standard of Barca, Burns's seminal history of FC Barcelona, but merits inclusion on the bookshelf.

Cleverly, Burns has not written a book about Beckham. He has written a book Beckham should read if he wants to understand Real Madrid and its role in the modern Spain. Burns, who was brought up in Madrid and has deep family connections in the city, deftly pieces together the roles of the dramatis personae in the historical and political background to the story, from dictator Franco to football heroes Di Stefano and Butragueno.

Burns also explains the rivalry between Madrid and FC Barcelona, between the Spanish capital and Catalunya. Being a Barca fan, Burns takes some delight in pointing out that among the founders of Real Madrid were two Catalan brothers, Juan and Carlos Padros. This is a bit like Rangers fans discovering that their team was co-founded by two Marist brothers from Sligo.