Watching that match on Sunday wasn’t just about the most amazing result – Manchester City winning with virtually the last kick of the season, a kick that impacted so visibly to the solar-plexus of the visiting manager at the Stadium of Light as he waited, this time in vain, for the regular sound of inevitability.

Still twenty five minutes to go, but it’s already too much for this City fan to bear

It was also about the way that the City fans still could not bring themselves to believe: right from the news of Rooney’s goal on twenty minutes, through the relative ecstasy of a half-time lead, then the increasing doldrums of two QPR goals totally against the laws of soccer physics.  Until, of course, those last glorious seconds. Continue Reading

I cannot remember too many occasions when a harp has featured on the stage of a rock concert, except perhaps for visual effect or, during the late seventies, to provide the pretentious ending to a tedious Jon Anderson lyrical soliloquy.

But I certainly have never seen one used as a major instrument throughout a ninety-minute set – until yesterday when, for once, a band with the word ‘Machine’ in their name were anything but mechanical.  Added to which Florence Welsh is not merely a vocal force of nature, she also comes over as, quite simply, a lovely person; not something you can say too often about female leads in these days of ladette culture. Continue Reading

nothing to see here

I would never have known if you hadn’t told me

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Five minutes after his return to the Emirates, Thierry Henry gives a quick seminar on goalscoring to Arsenal’s wasteful strikers:

OK, now Theo, pay attention: control the ball, then inside of the right foot; just aim for the far corner; no far corner; far corner; far…. oh OK, aim for the keeper then……

OK now you try it Andrei, inside of the foot, no not the outside; no not the instep; no not the shin; no Andrei, definitely not the knee.. nor the other foot.  Just inside of the right foot, easy, and there it goes: Continue Reading