Stars for a minute

skysports-brighton-and-hove-albion-dale-stephens-championship-football_3816005

HOW narrow is the dividing line between being a professional footballer, seeking the best salary for your ability, and being a self-seeking prima donna?

That line has been firmly tested over the past couple of months.

First we had the one man strike at West Ham by their star play maker Dimitri Payet, demanding he be sold for a mega million fee.

Then we had striker Chris Martin do much the same at Fulham, although on this occasion he simply wanted to return to his parent club Derby County.

And then we saw striker Ross McCormack conduct a one man training strike at Aston Villa. His actions forced Villa manager Steve Bruce to publically reveal that the Scot had been dropped from the first team squad for “continually missing training”.

But these examples are not a new capitalist madness in the beautiful game we all love.

Back in 1998, Dutch striker Pierre van Hooijdonk staged a very public one player strike, claiming Nottingham Forest had made “broken promises” to sell him if he helped them earn promotion from Division One.

And more recently in September 2011, during a Champions League clash with Bayern Munich, Argentine star Carlos Tevez ignored Roberto Mancini’s orders and refused to come on as a substitute for Manchester City.

Crazy eh!

So how refreshing is it that one of our own stars has the dignity and professionalism to show others how to behave.

The transfer speculation surrounding Dale Stephens dominated the Albion’s close-season.

The Seagulls turned down several bids of up to £8million from Premier League side Burnley for the midfield star.

Then as the transfer window closed, Stephens took to Twitter to explain that although he had been “reluctant” to submit a transfer request, he wanted an opportunity to play in the top flight.

“I’m 27 and recognised this could by my final opportunity to do so, which is why I feel disappointed my chance was taken away,” he posted.

Many Albion fans feared that Stephens might sulk, rebel or simply refuse to train as a result of his rejected transfer.

But how wrong they were.

Since last August, Stephens has proved to be one of our key players. His work ethic is exemplary and his importance to the team is pivotal.

Small wonder that the Albion have not lost a game this season, when Stephens has been in the team.

On 22 October, after scoring the winner for the Albion against Wigan, he underlined his professionalism saying: “I enjoy playing for this club and enjoy playing for this manager and I remain fully committed until the end of the season.”

But Dale Stephens’ situation opens up a reality for many professional footballers, and maybe casts some light on the actions of Payet, Martin and McCormack.

It has always been the case that the career of a professional footballer is short.

For while many may sign for a club as a schoolboy, their proper career doesn’t usually take off until they turn 20. And for most it is all over by the time they reach 35 – Inigo Calderon, Bobby Zamora and Gordon Greer are good recent cases in point.

So what do they do for the next 30 years of a normal working life?

Some stay with the club in an executive or coaching capacity (Guy Butters and Paul Watson) and some take up TV or radio punditry (Adam Virgo), but for others the future is less clearly defined.

For all players the onus is to earn as much as they can, while playing at their top level, to pay for a lengthy retirement.

Last season, average Championship earnings were £6,235 a week (£324,250 a year) while in the Premier League first-team average salaries were around £1.7 million.

Meanwhile, the average basic pay in League One was £69,500 and £40,350 in League Two – not much more than the national average.

That means top-flight players earned over five times as much as Championship players, almost 25 times as much as League One players, and around 42 times as much as League Two players.

Small wonder that players like Dale Stephens want to play in the Premier League before age and declining fitness determines that their career is over.

Thirty years ago, a top-flight footballer earned on average £25,000 per year, or just two-and-a-half times as much as the average household income of £9,788.

By 1995-96, a top-flight player earned six-and-a-half times as much as an ordinary family, and by 10 years ago it was more than 20 times as much, or £686,000 versus £33,000 per year.

Now it’s more than 40 times as much.

So spare a thought for my boyhood Albion heroes of the late 1960s.

Charlie Livesey was already a star with Chelsea when he joined the Albion in 1965. He was the Dale Stephens type dynamo of that era.

At the time the average weekly wage for a footballer in the third tier was just £20.

In his four years with the Albion, Livesey made 146 appearances, scoring 37 goals, before being released aged just 31, in April 1969.

He finished his career at Crawley Town then returned to the East End of London where he became a humble painter and decorator. Charlie died in 2005, aged 67.

Nobby Lawton was a similar midfielder – ironically born in Newton Heath, Manchester, just a few miles from where Dale Stephens later grew up.

He began his football career as an amateur with Manchester United. Following the Munich air disaster in 1958, he gave up his job with a local coal merchant to sign professional forms.

By the time he signed for the Albion from Preston North End in 1967, aged 27, wages had climbed to £30 a week.

Lawton was Livesey’s natural replacement at the heart of midfield and scored 14 goals in 112 appearances before dropping down to the Fourth Division to play for Lincoln City in 1970, and retiring two years later, aged 32. He returned to Newton Heath in 1977 to work for an export packaging firm.

Nobby Lawton died in April 2006, aged just 66.

Today, while Dale Stephens will hope for a much longer and healthier life, his career expectation is the same as it was for Charlie Livesey and Nobby Lawton, all those years ago.

It’s a long retirement.

 

A song for the Goldstone

Kit Napier in the wind swings the ball in

Cha Cha Cha Livesey we all sing

Big Alex rises in the fog of the night

And his power header takes the game out of sight

Give me a sight, give me a sound

Sweet memories of the Goldstone Ground

 

Tiger Tawse races down the left wing

Now you can hear the North Stand sing:

“It’s Brighton Hove Albion

Brighton Hove Albion FC

We’re by far the greatest team

The world has ever seen”

 

Sully intercepts a long floated pass

He plays it wide on the Sussex grass

Beamish races towards their box

And tucks the ball away as the South Stand rocks

Give me a sight, give me a sound

Sweet memories of the Goldstone Ground

 

Tony Towner surges down the right wing

Now you can hear the North Stand sing:

“It’s Brighton Hove Albion

Brighton Hove Albion FC

We’re by far the greatest team

The world has ever seen”

 

Lawro takes the ball from under the stand

Horton signals a move they’ve already planned

Passes to Ryan who chips it to Ward

The PA announces it is Ward who has scored

Give me a sight, give me a sound

Sweet memories of the Goldstone Ground

 

Teddy Maybank sprints down the right wing

Now you can hear the North Stand sing:

“It’s Brighton Hove Albion

Brighton Hove Albion FC

We’re by far the greatest team

The world has ever seen”

 

Jimmy Case lines up a 30 yard free kick

Steve Foster stands like Fletton brick

The ball’s chipped over and Smith must score

But it’s Robinson’s goal and the fans want more

Give me a sight, give me a sound

Sweet memories of the Goldstone Ground

 

Gary Stevens runs down the left wing

Now you can hear the North Stand sing:

“It’s Brighton Hove Albion

Brighton Hove Albion FC

We’re by far the greatest team

The world has ever seen”

 

Poem: Goldstone memories

Kit Napier in the wind swings the ball in
Cha Cha Cha Cha Livesey we chanted
Big Alex rises in the fog of the night
A goalbound header he glances
Tiger Tawse races down the left wing
Behind him you can hear the North Stand sing:
“It’s Brighton Hove Albion
Brighton Hove Albion FC
We’re by far the greatest team
The world has ever seen”

Sully intercepts a long floated pass
Ball played wide as Mellor advances
Beamish races towards the goal
And tucks away the sweetest of chances
Tony Towner surges down the right wing
Behind him you can hear the North Stand sing:
“It’s Brighton Hove Albion
Brighton Hove Albion FC
We’re by far the greatest team
The world has ever seen”

Lawro takes the ball from the edge of the box
Horton signals a move they have planned
Passes to Ryan who chips it to Ward
And he scores in a Goldstone wonderland
Teddy Maybank sprints down the right wing
Behind him you can hear the North Stand sing:
“It’s Brighton Hove Albion
Brighton Hove Albion FC
We’re by far the greatest team
The world has ever seen”

A Jimmy Case thunderbolt bulges their net
Steve Foster ploughs through the sand
The ball swerves forward and Smith must score
But it’s Robinson’s shot they can not withstand
Gary Stevens runs down the left wing
Behind him you can hear the North Stand sing:
“It’s Brighton Hove Albion
Brighton Hove Albion FC
We’re by far the greatest team
The world has ever seen”

The words I was saying

I HAVE just explored the Stats section of WordPress properly and it tells me the most popular topics I have written about during the past few weeks.

So in order to boost my readership still further I am going to:

Give poppies to the ghost of Charlie Livesey, who was poetry in motion when he used to play for Brighton and Hove Albion. Sadly he never appeared in the 1984 FA Cup Final against Manchester United.

The poppies are in memory of the dead of World War 1, but not of the many poems written about that tragedy. Poems which would have graced the writing and lyrics of Bob Dylan, who has probably never had a pee at Toddington Services.

Well, let’s see if that works! 😉

Brief Encounter #9

Brighton badgeBrighton and Hove Albion

THERE is nothing quite like having a pee with your heroes!

And it was so unexpected.

I have been an avid fan of my home town football team Brighton and Hove Albion since I was a small child… 46 years to be precise. I have watched their victories and defeats over those years and the club’s near extinction in 1997.

My baptism as an 11-year-old was standing in the North Stand at the much missed Goldstone Ground on a sunny Saturday 2nd September 1967 to see this team in blue and white beat Bury 1-0.

The chanting, bustle and atmosphere immersed me. I was hooked and had my first childhood heroes: the effervescent Kit Napier and the midfield maestro Charlie Livesey.

I can still smell the Bovril and cigarette soaked air of my first evening game one year later and the pride and disappointment of the 1983 FA Cup Final.

So I cheered on my heroes from the legendary Peter Ward to icons such as Brian Horton, Steve Foster, Bobby Zamora and Jimmy Case.

Yes, Brighton and Hove Albion are an integral part of my life.

But nothing prepared me for that moment on Friday 28th March 2008.

My dear Aunt Val had passed away and I had driven down to her home in North London to sort out arrangements for her funeral. Her death was unexpected and I guess my mind was focussed on getting everything right for her.

So after dealing with formalities with her solicitor and the funeral celebrant I hopped in my car to make the long journey back home – then in North Wales – via the M1 motorway.

I stopped at Toddington Services, just north of Luton, for petrol, a coffee and a toilet break.

I was vaguely aware of a smart coach pulling in next to me in the car park.

The loo called first, so I made my way to the gents. I stood by the urinal trough and was just about to relieve myself when more than a dozen guys in dark blue tracksuits walked in. They assembled in various positions to answer the call of nature. As I started to pee I looked up at the guy next to me. He had a Brighton and Hove Albion badge on his tracksuit top. I silently gasped and looked along at the rest of the guys… it was the entire Brighton first team squad.

That was the OMG moment and I got instant water retention. I was peeing with my heroes… or in my case not. I had to stop looking or they might get the wrong impression!

As I exited the service station toilets I turned to the player next to me – our full back Andrew Whing – and politely asked: “What are you guys doing in Luton?”

“We are on our way to Leeds, we play them tomorrow,” was the reply.

“Do we?” I answered stupidly, still desperate for a wee!