Rewritten By Machine And New Technology – Technology In Football

Following England’s predictable exit at the hands of the Germans during the 2010 World Cup, there were once again fresh calls for technology to be introduced into the game. Despite Frank Lampard’s shot clearly landing a yard over the line, these calls were largely laughed down by football’s governing bodies. However, during the recent European Championships, England happened to gain an advantage from a fairly similar situation, which saw Euro co-hosts Ukraine denied a goal that had crossed the line, albeit, unlike Lampard’s, it was only marginally over and also came from an offside position, yet FIFA, who are renowned for their impartiality, openness, and stance against racism and prejudice, have insisted that technology is now essential to maintain the integrity of the game. A U-turn not too dissimilar to their stance on penalties, where Sepp Blatter sought to decide all games ending in a draw with spot kicks, but following Chelsea’s Champion’s League victory on penalties over Bayern Munich, it was suddenly a “tragic” way to end a match, and so Munich’s very own Franz Beckenbauer was promptly given the backing, funds, and a panzer division, to find an alternative solution.

Whatever FIFA’s true motives are, their change of mind has been warmly welcomed by large sections of the footballing community, embraced, almost universally, by football pundits, and portrayed in the media as a victory for football fans. But is it really a progressive step?

Rugby, cricket, and tennis are often touted as successful examples of how technology can work in sport, and they have undoubtedly seen an increase in the quality of decision making, yet there is something that doesn’t quite sit right with it. Whether it be the delays in celebration after a try is scored while video referees debate the outcome over slow motion replays, or the challenging of umpires’ decisions by tennis players, the traditional feel of the sport feels somewhat compromised. It will be a sad day in football when the match is stopped for the 3^rd time in 15 minutes so that we can go to a McDonald’s sponsored video replay, while the crowd, who’d previously been celebrating what had looked like a definite goal, begin a slow hand clap until the large plasma screens finally give confirmation, flashing up “Goal in”, and Chelsea Daggers is blared out over tinny speakers at a deafening volume. One could imagine that the likes of Sky, the scourge of football, and their legion of arm chair fans, lapping up this pantomime, zooming in on the faces of fans for dramatic effect, or perhaps they might take the UEFA approach, focusing on young girls with large breasts, while their “Respect” campaign banner flickers in the background on the very same electronic advertising boards that prevented the linesman seeing whether the ball had crossed the line in the first place. Money talks.

However, the main problem with introducing goal-line technology lies with the very nature of the game of football itself. In rugby, when the ball is placed down over the try-line, the passage of play ends, whether they are using technology or not. Similarly, in tennis and cricket, the play naturally stops as part of the game, and therefore not interrupted by the needs of a video referee. The breaks in play in football however, are infrequent, and rarely occur immediately after the incident in question occurs. This poses the problem of how it will actually work. If the ball comes close to crossing the line, is the game stopped and referred to a video ref? And if so, if it’s shown that the ball hasn’t crossed the line, how is the game restarted? A drop ball would clearly be unfair for the team that had the ball when the game was stopped. What if the ball had fallen to an attacking player who had a clear chance of scoring as the ref stopped the game, or if the defending team were on the verge of a counter attack? It’s all very well if the original shot is declared in, but if it’s deemed to have not crossed the line, then outcome of the match will have been seriously affected. Stopping the game mid flow seems implausible, yet playing on until the ball goes out of play, or until word of the goal-line incident outcome reaches the referee, would produce problems of what to do about events that have taken place in the meantime. Would goals scored in this period be discounted or allowed to stand? The results would be farcical.

However, there are a number of different goal line technologies available. And while Hawk-Eye and video replays rely on a certain time delay, as well as a clear view of the ball, the German designed Goalref sends an instant signal to the referee. The technology relies on specially designed balls containing a sensor, which when crossing the goal-line, break a magnetic field and alert the referee that a goal has been scored. But, with Hawk-Eye already installed at Wembley, it’s probably quite likely that the FA will favour that approach, and all the virtual replay bollocks that goes with it.

Despite the instant verification that can be provided by some of the goal-line devices, Michel Platini remains a firm advocate against technology in football. Whilst the odious President of UEFA rarely offers rational or agreeable propositions, he may have a point. For example, why should a goal denied due to the officials not seeing whether the ball had crossed the line take precedence over a goal denied due to a hand ball or a wrongly called offside decision? UEFA have introduced extra officials on the goal line, which although won’t be able to get it right 100% of the time, are able to see better than the referee or linesmen who may be a 100 yards away. If the ball is clearly over, like Frank Lampard’s during the 2010 World Cup, they will be able to tell, and can aid the referee whilst at the same time maintaining the human element in the game. And if they do occasionally get it wrong, then that’s just unfortunate, just as it is with the dozens of other decisions throughout the game, that’s just part of football.

Although the introduction of an instant, minimum fuss system may provide some valuable benefits to the game, many may still fear that it is merely another step towards football developing into the sterile, soulless, corporate, money-grabbing machine that it continues to become.

God Save Your Mad Parade – Danny Boyle’s “Isle of Wonders”

Having initially been sceptical about the Olympics and the opening ceremony, it turned out that Danny Boyle’s Isle of Wonder was well worth a watch. Faced with the monumental task of following Beijing’s opening ceremony 4 years ago, with a fraction of the funding at his disposal, Boyle really nailed it.

It’s often difficult to culturally define the English. The French identify themselves, or rather we identify them, as bicycle riding, beret wearing, baguette eaters, the Australians have boomerangs and kangaroos, the Scottish have bagpipes and kilts, and the Spanish have sombreros and a disgusting lack of bovine animal rights, but the English don’t seem to culturally offer much. However, Danny Boyle managed to portray British culture in the opening ceremony as possibly the most important on the planet. No, we don’t have much in terms of nation bound oddities, but that is because the British culture is that good that it has been exported and is now the culture of the world. Railways, cars, television, electric light, turbine powered ships, jet propelled aeroplanes, are all British inventions and culture which were too good to remain solely within our shores. Boyle touched on this with his scene depicting the industrial revolution, and one should remember while we were steaming in to the 20^th century, the majority of the world was still stuck in the dark ages.

Even up to the modern day, British ingenuity and culture is being lent to the world. The title of “Father of the Computer” is given to Englishman Charles Babbage, while the first electronic computer was designed and constructed at Bletchley Park by the British, and in particular Alan Turing, whose death would later go on to inspire the computer brand Apple. So although it appears as though the likes of the Japanese are superior in the technology department, their smart phones and Tamagotchis pale into insignificance when compared to the war winning, Nazi code-breaking computers of Bletchley Park, which paved  the way for a global technological culture. Impressively, Danny Boyle managed to pay tribute to Britain’s contribution to the technological world, with a small section of the ceremony involving Sir Tim Berners-Lee, creator of one of the most important inventions of all time, the World Wide Web. As Berners-Lee sat typing on his keyboard, words were beamed on to the crowd reading “This is for everyone”, recognising the fact that the internet wasn’t patented, but given as a gift to mankind, something that belonged to and helped everybody, just as the British refused to patent penicillin once we’d discovered it, although the Americans weren’t quite so altruistic, quickly slapping intellectual property rights on it and charging us to use our own discovery, which was good of them.

Boyle’s ceremony also paid tribute to other important parts of our culture, touching on the fact that the majority of world sports were either created or codified in Britain. Whereas the likes of cricket and rugby are usually associated with England, sports such as football, tennis, athletics, cycling, boat racing, golf, table tennis, badminton, and an almost endless list of other sports, are rarely thought about as exclusively British culture, yet that would have been the case before they were exported to the rest of the world.

The second half of the ceremony paid tribute to British music and the influence it has on the world. Since the times of the Beatles and Stones, Britannia has ruled the airwaves, pioneering new sounds, smashing old musical regimes, and spawning new rhythmical dynasties. It seems somewhat ironic that The Clash, The Jam, and The Sex Pistols should be put forward as a representation of British culture, when 30 years ago they were despised with such venom by the British mainstream, however, it’s a testament to how they have helped shape the British mind set. When a band like the Sex Pistols, who in the 70s rebelled against the status quo of British culture to such an extent that when “God Save the Queen” reached number 1 during the diamond jubilee the public were bizarrely informed that there was no number 1 that week, have two of their records played during a ceremony representing British culture, it really shows how these bands were at the forefront of free thinking. While Punk was blowing away the stale, self-indulgent dinosaur that popular music had become, paving the way for New Wave and the birth of modern pop, it was also blowing away the archaic state of mind of the British public, paving the way for more liberal thinking. Reshaping our nation’s, and often the world’s, attitude has often been a defining feature of British music. Even in the 60s, bands like The Kinks were light years ahead of politicians and world statesmen on issues such as gender classification and sexual orientation, and one of the reasons why British music deserved its place in the Olympic opening ceremony.

What was really impressive about the Isle of Wonders was its attempt to convey the message inclusiveness. Fair play and equal rights for all are often touted as being the backbone of the Olympics, and these concepts have regularly been fought for on our soil, and were acknowledged in the ceremony, represented by the Jarrow marchers, the Union movement, and the much underappreciated NHS. The appreciation for these institutes comes at a time when they see themselves under constant attack. The current government seems determined to dismantle the NHS under the guise of reforms, prattling on about the wastefulness of what is probably the most efficient healthcare service in the world. A service that provides care for anyone and everyone that needs it, whether you’re rich, poor, black, white, male or female, if you need help, the NHS offers out its hand. Despised by the Tories, and strangely enough by many Americans, brainwashed by generations of fundamentalist politicians that prefer to let their own people die of sickness in the street than succumb to a “dirty damn socialist” national health system, the NHS is truly something to be proud of.  It was also good to see the ceremony include the trade union movement, a notion that fights against repression and for rights and equality for all, values held highly in the Olympics. However, despite Britain having some of the worst trade union laws in Europe, the government is still attempting to crush the voice of the people, playing private sector off against public, when they should be united, and even pondering sacking striking workers, effectively stating that they’ll cut your wage, cut your pension, cut your jobs and services, but don’t complain.

Marching along with the Jarrow Crusade and the Unionists, were the suffragettes, yet another tribute to equality and inclusiveness, but also significant in that London 2012 is the first ever Olympics where women are able to compete in  all the events that the men compete in. However, not everyone buys in to this idea of the Games. Tory MP Aiden Burley, vented his frustrations, labelling the opening ceremony as “leftie multi-cultural crap”, apparently taken by surprise that the Olympics, which includes over 200 countries, would have black people in it. He’d obviously been hoping that Boyle would have included more of Britain’s capitalist history, with perhaps a tribute to the money making machine of the slave trade. However, unfortunately for Burley, Boyle could have easily developed this scene to show how that the people of Britain campaigned against the slave trade, and eventually forced our country to become one of the first to abolish it, and then force others to follow suit.

The Olympics often has the power to install patriotism, and you may find yourself viewing things through English rose-tinted glasses, but one can’t help but feel that Danny Boyle has done our nation’s proud history justice. There were initial fears that the Olympic ideals would be sacrificed in the name of money and greed, but through the opening ceremony, Boyle has managed to build a green and pleasant image of Britain, amongst the dark satanic mills of corporate interest.

The London [insert sponsors name here] Olympic Games

After 7 years of “thorough” preparation, the London Olympics are finally upon us. With the eyes of the world watching, the pressure is on to deliver. In order to oblige, the British government has ploughed around 10 billion pounds of public money in to the games, but has at the same time axed thousands of jobs, destroyed pensions, cut funding in health and education, and is ironically spending less on grass root sports, effectively laughing in the face of the Olympics’ "lasting legacy". However, it’s claimed that in return it will encourage investment in to the country, and stimulate our lagging economy, or in other words, the spending of tax payers’ money will result in large private companies making more money, and will hopefully make so much, that in order to make any more they will be forced to appoint more staff and invest, and so the crumbs from the table are shared.

When first conceived by Frenchman Pierre de Coubertin, the Olympic Games aimed to unite the world through sport, promoting peace and harmony.  However, these ideals appear to have been sold to the highest bidder, with anybody promoting the Olympics, that hasn’t paid for the privilege, being swiftly removed by the Gestapo. Shamefully, in a country full of obese children, with a health care system already at breaking point, the faces of the world’s biggest sporting event are McDonald’s and Coca-Cola, along with a host of other uber-ethical  brands such as Dow Chemical, and BP.

With an estimated 4 billion people tuning in to watch the opening ceremony, almost 30 million pounds has been spent on Danny Boyle’s “green and pleasant land”, which effectively appears to be Craggy Island’s Fun Land, complete with The Crane Of Death, Spider Baby, and the Tunnel Of Goats. Yet, despite billions watching at home, the opening ceremony has struggled to sell out, mainly due to ridiculously high prices being charged for tickets, ensuring the event is reserved for the sponsors and the very rich. Fortunately, the stadium won’t be peppered with areas of empty plastic seats, as the spare tickets are being given to soldiers. A nice gesture, although they will have to select soldiers that aren’t busy filling in for the hopelessly incompetent G4S.

However, beneath all the money and hype, the essence of the Olympics is still there, the sport. Hopefully, London 2012 will prove to be both thrilling and exciting, with Great Britain surpassing their achievements 4 years ago in Beijing, and hopefully pillocks will refrain from calling us “Team GB”, we’re not Yanks, and we are not a brand, we are a country. Stop putting a fucking dollar sign in front of everything.

Beer Review #2: Gold Tankard

From its home in Wylam, on the edge of Northumberland, Gold Tankard’s reputation has spread through Tyneside becoming a permanent fixture at many a pub. First created 12 years ago, Gold Tankard became Champion Beer at the CAMRA Tyneside Festival and Darwen Lancashire Festival. Originally residing in the pubs of the tranquil town of Wylam, Gold Tankard began making regular appearances at beer festivals, and can now be found in many locals up and down Tyneside. The Wylam beer has even managed to break on to the scene in Newcastle, a city that in recent years has become a wash with cheap vodkas and generic lagers. It’s well known that ale is the drink of proper blokes, and Gold Tankard can be found knocking about on the edges of town, talking football with its mates, and getting a round in while it sticks another quid in the jukebox, leaving watered down Fosters dancing to Abba in the Bigg Market.

With its smooth taste, with a hint of citrus, Gold Tankard is a top beer. However, despite its deserved popularity, I don’t think it is even Wylam’s best beer. The Wylam Brewery squad boasts both strength and depth, and for me Gold Tankard struggles to beat its comrades “Rocket”, named after the locomotive designed by the father of railways and Wylam’s most famous son, George Stephenson, and the soon to be re-released “Turbinia”, whose name derives from the world’s first turbine powered ship, designed by another Wylam lad, Charles Algernon Parsons. So not only do you get a superb beverage to sup on, you also get a little nugget of history to ponder over while supping the said beverage. I fully expect it to be argued in parliament that young adolescents should be weaned on to Wylam’s finest ales in an attempt to boost GCSE history results, and to phase out the drinking of tuppence hap'ney drinks such as Wkd and Smirnoff Ice. In Wylam Brewery’s words, “It’s proper beer”.

Geordies here, Geordies there, Geordies every f*cking where....

While some sections of our crowd against Wigan last year kindly suggested that the “fat Geordie bastard” Steve Bruce was not welcome at our club, many other Geordies in the crowd may have been left questioning just how welcome they themselves were.

Sunderland have always had a strong Geordie following. From the 1950s, when supporters from Tyneside and Wearside would watch Sunderland one week, and Newcastle the next, through to the 70s and 80s when “Geordie” and “Mackem” chants could be heard echoing around the Fulwell. However, things turned sour with the advent of the cringe worthy Geordie Nation bollocks, where Newcastle United attempted to claim all things Geordie for themselves. The vast majority of Mags, being pillocks, believed their own hype, but unfortunately, many Sunderland fans also seemed taken in by it.

A quick look on the ALS/RTG SMB forum, and it’s clear to see that amongst some Sunderland fans there is a degree of hatred towards Geordies, and not just from the knackers, but also from intelligent, loyal, and otherwise well informed supporters. Despite what Tory boy John Hall would have you believe, Geordie does not belong to Newcastle United, and the city itself has no exclusive right to the name, in fact it’s quite probable that Newcastle has a lower proportion of Geordies in its population than anywhere else on the Tyne. Geordie belongs to the whole of Tyneside, whether you’re a Sunderland supporter or a black and white. Anyone who believes otherwise is merely playing into the hands of the Goebbel-esque, Maggie propaganda machine. And contrary to what many a gobshite Mag might say, supporting The Lads whilst coming from Jarra, Shields, Gateshead, or The Fellin’, does not make you a Mackem. Just as a Londoner supporting Liverpool is not a Scouser, and probably not even a thief.

Support from lads from Tyneside should not be underestimated. Geordie Sunderland fans make up a decent part of SAFC’s core following, there’s no room for half hearted support when you spend most of your life surrounded by Mags. When most of your mates and work colleagues are Skunks, it’s a right bastard having to go down the pub after Michael Proctor has managed to single handily destroy his own team with a hat trick of own goals, or having to go in to work after another defeat to the Barcodes. A generation of Sunderland fans on Tyneside have had to grow up tolerating their school mates discussing turning Barcelona over, while they sit quietly at the back of the class reading their Sunderland v Oldham programme. As a result a lot of Sunderland’s loyalist support can be traced back to areas surrounding the Tyne.

Hence it seems incredibly stupid, and Magpie-like, to alienate such fiercely loyal fans, who make a 30 mile round trip every other Saturday to cheer on the same team as their Mackem brethren. Don’t let the Mags steal our Geordie support. We are Sunderland. FTM not FTG.

Clobber: Nazi-fighting shoes - Clarks

Back when schools could be arsed with having proper uniforms, primary schools the length of the country would be full of young’uns sporting a pairs of Clarks shoes. One of the final days of your summer holidays would be spent traipsing around the shops with your mam, trying on new trousers, and picking up a fresh set of Crayola’s finest coloured pencils. This shopping trip almost always included having to call in to the Clarks store, and waiting in what can only be described as a doctors’ waiting room for shoes. Sitting there patiently until your number came up on the board and you could have your feet professionally measured, secretly hoping you’d reached the mythical status of being an adult size 1. The next day at school would be spent comparing new shoes, only to find that almost everyone was wearing the same ones, which in itself was pretty cool, as the general conclusion would be they must be the best ones.

As you matured though, Clarks were bullied from the scene by the likes of Kickers and Pod, and were seen as pretty much untouchable, relegated to the choice of young kids and old blokes. However, these shoes were merely Clarks’ mainstream footwear. Their cult classics, relaunched in recent years as Clarks Originals, have remained a staple in the wardrobes of many a finely dressed chap throughout the decades. The Desert Boot is up there with the greats of cult footwear, despite it becoming dangerously trendy over the last year or so, hijacked by soulless fashion magazines, and reproduced by the likes of Topshop and Primark. A favourite with the mods in the 60’s, due to them looking equally as smart with a suit as they do with a pair of Levi’s, Clarks Desert Boots are based on a similar design worn by the British Eighth Army as they fought the Nazis in North Africa. Initially Nathan Clark, great grandson of the company’s founder James Clark, was told by the Stock Committee superintendent that his design would never sell, but Nathan persisted and the shoe soon became a bestseller. Worn by the likes of the Cooler King, Steve McQueen, the Desert Boot has become an iconic shoe.

Whilst the Desert Boot may receive the majority of the attention, Clarks also produce a number of other quality shoes. Based on a Dutch design, the Desert Trek has become popular with both ramblers and football lads alike. Its trademark centre seam gives it its distinctive look, and like the Desert Boot, looks just as good when worn with a pair of jeans as it does with something a bit more formal. The Wallabee was done to death a few years ago, but is still a smart alternative to some of the shoes available out there, and while the Oberon conjures thoughts of a 70s history teacher, it looks refreshingly tidy when combined with some decent threads.

Whilst a lot of top trainers are becoming soul-destroyingly common, Clarks are a breath of fresh air. With a pair of Desert Treks on your feet you’ll be soon be looking as sharp as the Ace Face, or cooler, considering he’s a bell boy, and Sting.

Monkwearmouth Park

A decade of piss poor football combined with an increased feeling of alienation as football fans in general, has slowly taken its toll on the atmosphere and match day experience as a whole. Fortunately, things seem to be taking a turn for the better at The Stadium of Light. The players, for the time being, have stopped playing shite. We have a Sunderland supporting manager with a proven track record and the ability to attract top players. Sunderland legend Niall Quinn has preached SAFC to the world, whether it be attracting fans from East Asia, or trailing round the local boozers, dragging the piss heads away from Azerbaijani Football TV and back in to the ground.  And we have a chairman and owner who not only seems to have a bit of cash, but also appears to care about the club and the opinions of the fans. If we can’t make it with our current set up, I doubt we ever will.

Ellis Short’s willingness to listen to fans has recently been demonstrated, his plans to shift the away fans up into the North Stand upper, creating a new “home” end in the South Stand, have generally been well received amongst the Wearside faithful. With the South Stand looking as if it will be at concession prices next year, this is an ideal opportunity for Sunderland fans to gather with other like-minded individuals and bring back the famous Roker Roar. This, coupled with the emergence of groups such as “Ha’way the Flags”, should hopefully improve the atmosphere, and make going to the match enjoyable once again.

But why stop at there? While the clubs around us sell their souls, renaming their grounds after wealthy Arab airlines or jumble sale sport shops, our current set up gives us the opportunity to embrace our traditions and famous past. Despite not jumping on the sponsorship bandwagon with regards to ground name, “The Stadium of Light” was probably not the name which many envisioned when it was announced back in 1997. It doesn’t have any particular relevance to the club, sounds pretentious, sounds nicked, and sounds like, er, shite. Surely something relevant to the area would be more appropriate. The current names of our stands also leave a lot to be desired. Meeting your mates in the Strongbow Upper North Stand, or Fosters Shandy East Stand, isn’t quite the same as meeting at the back of the Fulwell. We’ve inhabited our new ground now for almost 15 years, yet the names of our stands still sound like a pissed tramp’s compass. With some input from the supporters, we could have something we could relate to, such as The Southwick End instead of the North Stand, with our new home stand The Wearmouth End, or maybe even the Niall Quinn Stand, opposite. We could reclaim Archibald Leitch’s lattice work from the stadium’s car park, stick it in the West Stand, and rename it the Main Stand. Surely this iconic part of Roker Park would look better in the ground, rather than out of view, gathering dents from them shit 4x4 things that the players drive about.  We could even hoy a half decent looking clock on the East Stand and rename it The Clock Stand, while naming the corners of our ground after legends such as of Gurney, Shackleton, Carter, and Hurley, would help make the stadium feel as though it did really belong to the fans.

Whereas Mike Ashley laughs off Newcastle fans’ Neanderthal-like grumbles regarding their ground name, at Sunderland we have the opportunity to shape and influence our club. It’s up to the supporters to take advantage of the unique relationship between board and the fans.

Beer Review #1: Super Bock, superstar, gets you more pissed than Stella Artois. – SUPER BOCK

Originating from Porto, Super Bock has been getting the Portuguese pissed since 1927. Racking up an impressive 26 consecutive gold medals in the "Monde Selection de la Qualite", it has become established as Portugal’s favourite lager, and had also become one of my own personal favourites. I first stumbled across this little gem when holidaying across in Albufeira. After spending the majority of the week steering clear of it, partly because it sounded like something like you’d pick up in a South African Netto,  but also because the initial lager of choice was the splendid, and Portuguese sounding, Sagres. However, the lack of Sagres in one bar forced my hand, and Super Bock was given a trial. Every now and then you come across a drink so good that you feel like you can’t get enough of it. Super Bock is one of these.

Drinks will always taste better on holiday. Sitting by the beach gazing out to sea, with the sun beaming down on your back, is bound to make a drink taste better than when you’re back at home sat in a dingy pub on a wet Tuesday night, with some old codger farting in the corner. However, when confronted in one bar without either Super Bock or Sagres, resorting back to the home comfort of a pint of Carling really illustrated how good these Portuguese lagers were. After almost spewing from that first initial taste, it then began to piss it down outside. Maybe that’s why it’s always wet in England, too much Carling.

Weighing in at 5.2%, Super Bock lacks the bitter aftertaste many lagers have, and its mild hoppy flavour hits the spot during those hot summer days.