A Sticker's Worth 500 Words

Mat Jolin-Beech is leading proceedings for today with a look at a Latvian legend. Around this time Crystal Palace also swooped for two signings from Skonto. Andrejs Rubins was criminally underused but scored a genuinely beautiful goal against Liverpool in the League Cup. Alex Kolinko managed to punch a corner into his own net against Bolton Wanderers, get nominated for Match Of The Day’s ‘Save of the Season’ and get punched in the face by Trevor Francis for laughing at Matt Clarke for being Matt Clarke. The lesson today is sign some Latvians. Over to Mat.   The little Latvian is adored by Saints fans even if he fails to grab ultimate hero status at Saint Mary’s. That is reserved for Matt Le Tissier . Only. And quite possibly Albert Brown. He scored seven goals against Northampton Town on 28 December 1901. (Thank you Wikipedia). After a troubled £800,000 transfer from Skonto, Pahars eventually arrived in England in 1999, making history by becoming the first Latvian to play in the Premie

“How do you look upon being a professional footballer – is it a job of work or a career?” Hunter Davies put this question to every member of the Tottenham Hotspur first team during the 1971/72 season as part of his research for ‘The Glory Game’. Veteran striker Alan Gilzean gave the kind of response that played to every fan’s sense of wonder: “It’s not a job or a career…I get paid to enjoy myself!”. However, Gilzean was in the minority in terms of positivity. Welsh international Mike England was far more blunt stating “I play it for a living as opposed to doing it for sheer enjoyment.” Club captain Alan Mullery went even further in taking the gloss off the world of football: “I go out at the same time every day…I’m given orders…It’s a job.” Nearly forty years later another Tottenham player was following in the steps of the stars of ‘The Glory Game’. Unfortunately for the Spurs’ faithful Benoit Assou-Ekotto was not leading them to victory in a UEFA Cup final against Wolverhampton Wander

There are lots of things that spring to mind when one thinks of Harry Redknapp. Some might think of his early days at AFC Bournemouth where he saved the club from relegation and led them to a famous FA Cup win over Manchester United. Others might think of the young English stars, like Frank Lampard and Rio Ferdinand, to whom Redknapp gave their first taste of Premier League football. There are also those who will remember the offshore account set up in his dog’s name for a cheeky bit of tax evasion but who cares about that because he won ‘I’m A Celebrity’.   For most of us though the immortal image will be of Redknapp leaning out of the window of his car on transfer deadline day having lured Niko Kranjcar and Jermaine Defoe to whatever club he was in charge of at the time. Such was Redknapp’s perceived prowess in the transfer market that many pundits labelled him a wheeler and a dealer. Redknapp wasn’t exactly enamoured with this reputation, so much so that when Sky Sports’ Rob Palmer

We are in the hands of Emlyn Jones today who takes a look at the career of a Premier League hero and the unfortunate injury that ended his career. Emlyn has done a worrying amount of research for this post which suggests that maybe he should be signed up by a more popular or prestigious football blog. Luckily a lot of this research has nothing to do with the actual sticker displayed below so he’s probably where he belongs. Over to the man himself.     Bizarre injuries have already been touched upon in this blog with Dave Beasant , who nearly chopped off a toe dropping a bottle of salad cream on it. The subject of today’s article was a victim of a pothole on Southampton’s training field, leading to a cruciate ligament injury that ultimately ended his career. David Hirst was born in Barnsley in 1967 and, at the age of 18, turned professional with his hometown club. He only played a single season, notching up nine goals, however, Barnsley were forced into selling him by their unfortunate

There are fewer things more excruciating than writing personal statements. Think back to your last job application or, even worse, when you did your UCAS form. Unpleasant right? Unless you are gifted with a Cristiano Ronaldo sized ego or a Steve Bruce flair for prose they turn into the painful process of polishing a life full of turds or, worse, actually admitting you might be quite good at a few things. The best case scenario sees you using phrases like “dedication” and “commitment” in every other sentence. In the worst case you just end up making stuff up – like a friend of mine who claimed he coached tennis for children with disabilities when all he’d done is throw a ball back to a kid in a wheelchair at the local park.   This level of truth bending brings us to Michael Owen. In fairness to the diminutive striker there was little need to exaggerate his achievements on and off the football pitch. Over a hundred Premier League goals. Ballon D’or winner in 2001. UEFA Cup, FA Cup and L

Footballing autobiographies tend to go one of two ways. The first, and the far more common, tend to be bland, ghost-written affairs charting the rise from the youth team to some degree of success in a short period of time with the occasional aside about the player’s love of golf or music. Usually published as overpriced hardbacks with lots of glossy pictures around Christmas you can pick them up for a quid by the summer in your nearest charity shop. The second, however, genuinely entertains either because it provides a player with an excuse to slag off all of their former team-mates or because it shares some funny stories about life behind the scenes of the beautiful game.   I have to confess I am yet to read ‘The Romford Pele’ by…the Romford Pele, Ray Parlour, but it’s on my list to have a closer look at following the extract published in The Guardian back in 2016 as it definitely seems to fit into the second category mentioned above. Unsurprisingly, in a team containing characters li

We’re staying in the Steel City and, more specifically, with Sheffield Wednesday for today’s post as Mat Jolin-Beech continues our proud traditions at A Sticker’s Worth 500 Words of paying homage to great 90s goalkeepers and finding any excuse to slag off Joe Hart. You might judge a young Mat for his behaviour in the early 2000s but, if it helps, around the same time one of my mates from school got called a ‘fat c***’ by Cheltenham Town’s Steve Book during a Carling Cup game. These things always even out. Over to Mat.   Every club has a cult hero. Sometimes it is that player who is terrible but scores against your main rivals – Diego Forlan anyone? Or that player who is terrible but keeps working and wins the fans over with effort and a realisation they’re not THAT bad. See Marouane Fellaini. Others are those stalwarts, those men who become synonymous with the club that they spend the majority, or the entirety, of their career with. Today’s subject is one such man, and one who if he’d

In recent political discourse the term ‘echo chamber’ has been bandied around a lot. For those who have, sensibly, chosen to avoid political Twitter this is where people are surprised by voting patterns on the basis that no one they follow expressed these opinions. For what it’s worth football Twitter isn’t much different. After all, it’s highly unlikely that if you support Crystal Palace you are going to follow a bunch of Brighton and Hove Albion podcasts. Unless they are entirely dedicated to the work of Glenn Murray in which case I want to know everything about them.   We’ve all been shocked and flattered on this blog when the luminaries we have discussed have liked or retweeted the nonsense we have written about them. Special thanks to Mark Crossley who has been particularly enthusiastic on this front. What has surprised us most is on our Instagram page ( @Sticker500 if anyone wants to know) is the number of likes we’ve received from a man we have yet to post about apart from the

In the summer of 1996 football came home as England hosted the European Championships. The tournament will be remembered for a range of reasons. The host nation went all the way to the semi-finals courtesy of an incredible goal from Paul Gascoigne against Scotland, a performance for the ages against a star-studded Netherlands side and David Seaman saving penalties for fun against Spain. Needless to say Germany turned up and ruined it and went on to beat the Czech Republic in the final. But at least you could still wear England’s snazzy grey away shirt with jeans so all was not lost.   English football fans weren’t just left with a versatile casual garment after the tournament as many of Euro 96’s continental stars attracted the attention of Premier League clubs. Czech midfield maestros Patrik Berger and Karel Porborsky headed to Liverpool and Manchester United respectively. The latter also signed Jordi Cruyff on the basis his old man was apparently quite handy and, despite the fact tha

We are in the capable hands of Emlyn Jones for today’s post with another icon of Welsh football. For some bizarre reason EA Sports’ Euro 2008 game didn’t have the licenses for the Welsh team’s names so today’s subject went under the pseudonym of Colin Belmont and formed a potent strike partnership with Roderick Earlshow. I’ll let Emlyn take it from here.   I return to the players of the literal land of my father, Wales, and a journeyman striker who racked up £47m in transfer fees. And once went a bit mental with a golf club. Craig Bellamy was born in Cardiff in 1979, and trained with Bristol Rovers before signing with Norwich at 15. Debuting at 17, 32 goals in three seasons encouraged significant interest from the Premier League by 2000. Lacking an agent, Bellamy took his financial adviser to meet with Coventry City manager Gordon Strachan. Bizarrely mutual client John Fashanu turned up too and the pressure resulted in Bellamy signing against his judgement. Although finishing as joint

I’ve always got time for a pub that turns any event into an excuse for a questionable beer and/or food promotion. Back in 2013 my then local, the Penny Theatre in Canterbury, decided to air that year’s WWE Royal Rumble live and, as all dedicated and responsible trainee teachers would, a group of us decided that staying up until 4am with a few beers and a ‘Benoit BBQ’ burger was the best possible decision for our students’ development. Thank God it was a university based ‘study day’ that Monday. A week or so later we were back in the Penny for their live coverage of Transfer Deadline Day. Despite the lack of themed menu (surely an opportunity for some Peter Odemwingies?) our eyes were glued to the screen for the spectacle. Palace had had a tricky winter and had fallen out of the automatic promotion spots. Glenn Murray was still banging in the goals but the sale of talismanic forward Wilfried Zaha to Manchester United meant the Eagles were in need of further options up front. United

More from Mat Jolin-Beech who, rather like myself with Dirk Kuyt , is paying homage to a football gaming legend although, in this case, he was pretty bloody special in real life too. To translate for the wider world the phrase ‘doing a Munz’ is when you throw your controller down and storm out of a room and relates to an incident involving Mario Kart, an N64 and the blue shell that broke the camel’s back. Over to Mat. Ok, ok, this is an expected blog. A Manchester United fan writing about Paul Scholes, waxing lyrical about just how amazing the Ginger Prince was; how he ran games; scored amazing goals (away to Bradford in 2000); or the fact he couldn’t tackle for toffee. As an anecdote, in 2000, my now wife and family were staying at the same hotel as the England team. And my mother-in-law saw a short, ginger member of the England entourage walking through with his label poking out. So naturally, she went up to him, tucked it in, and said: “There you go love”. Anyway, this

The history of Ireland is littered with injustices at the hands of their neighbours. The brutal campaigns of Oliver Cromwell in the 1650s. The horrors of the Great Famine in the 1840s. The suppression of the Young Ireland and Fenian movements of the nineteenth century. The executions of the leaders of the 1916 Easter Rising. The horrific behaviour of the ‘Black and Tans’ in the years leading to independence. I could mention many more but perhaps this isn’t the time or place. In 2009 the Republic of Ireland football team suffered a grave injustice, quite literally, at the hands of their neighbours to the south when they were denied a place at the 2010 FIFA World Cup in South Africa. Having lost the first leg of their play-off 1-0 at home the boys in green had levelled the scores on aggregate through a Robbie Keane goal and had taken the mighty France to extra-time in their own backyard. Thirteen minutes into the additional period Florent Malouda punted the ball forward in hope