(NB all these ideas are © Gary Socrates 2010 - just leave your number below next to how much you are offering and I'll get back to you)
Monday, December 06, 2010
Three billion viewers .. there's gold in them thar hills
(NB all these ideas are © Gary Socrates 2010 - just leave your number below next to how much you are offering and I'll get back to you)
Friday, December 03, 2010
Crestfallen
"Crestfallen: Hardy England fans react to the announcement in London"
You may notice that one of the 'England fans' looks less than 'crestfallen'. You may also note that he's wearing a blue hat with a Cardiff City logo and a Cardiff City "Pride of Wales" scarf. For it is none other than Mark Ainsbury, former Chairman of the 1927 club. Isn't it funny when the Daily Mail screw up?
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Olives
Close to us there are loads of abandoned olive groves. Walking the dog on the garrigue it is fascinating to come across properly organised groves in the midst of overgrown heathland. The trees were all abandoned to the wild in 1956 after an awful frost ("la grande gelée") killed off the entire crop. There's still some cultivated olive trees in the area, but these are abandoned despite the fact, we have been told, that with a bit of judicious pruning the trees would all be fine. As if to prove this, this year some of the so-called infertile trees are covered with olives. Taking internet advice I have waited until they are yellow before picking them, and today filled a great big bag. According to more internet advice they need to be soaked in brine for a while, so that's what's happening now - I have a big pot of olives soaking in a brine and lemon juice mixture. I will have to change the brine every two or three days, and then after a couple of weeks transfer them into some conveniently saved jam pots, where they will sit in flavourful mixtures for a couple of months before we try eating them. I hope to be scoffing them at Christmas, accompanying some nice local wine - which kept going locally after the "grande gelée" courtesy of the wonderful M. Christiane Ader.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Why does this man look so happy?
The question remains: How can we afford his wages though? It can only be concluded that Bellamy gained the negotiation driving seat after Man City said they wanted rid of him, but refused to let him go to Spurs, Liverpool or Fulham. Effectively it could be argued legally that they were restraining his trade and breaching his contract (Thus Bellamy's comment last week that he may consider jacking it in for good). Given that Bellamy HAS a contract with Man City, and they were telling him where he could and could not play, they could clearly only retain this level of control if they continued to pay his wages - or at least a good chunk of the rumoured £90,000 a week he is on. No way Cardiff City could afford much more than 10% of that - but we'll see what the real story is, probably - or maybe my guess is as good as anyone's.
Saturday, August 07, 2010
Matelles-Art - all sorts of new things
Visit www.matelles-art.com for a whole range of paintings, prints, cards, t shirts and now clocks! See even more at RedBubble and take a look also at the Matelles-Art Facebook page.
Have a look and don't forget to click 'like'.
Admire the art! Buy something!
Have a look and don't forget to click 'like'.
Admire the art! Buy something!
Friday, June 11, 2010
The Guatemalan Linesman - a World Cup story
Oscar Perdomo was on his way back from the sugarcane fields when he got the news. Luis Reyes, the local postman called after him “Hey, Oscar. There’s a letter for you here from the GFF. Maybe they want to sack you after that decision you made last week! That was never offside!” Luis laughed, and handed the envelope, marked with the official stamp of the Guatemalan Football Federation, to Oscar. “Thanks” said Oscar, taking the envelope “More likely they want to tell me off for not giving you a red card”. As well as being a foreman at the sugarcane fields, Oscar was also a referee. Not just any referee, but the most respected referee in Guatemala. Normally he refereed in the big games at Guatemala City, but the previous week he’d been refereeing a local game in his home town of Quetzaltenango. Luis the postman had been playing for one of the teams, and was a renowned dirty left back.
Not all of Oscar’s refereeing was on such a low scale, though, only last year he had refereed a world cup qualifying game between Columbia and Paraguay - the first Mestizo Indian to referee a world cup game of any kind - and most prestigious of all, had run the line in Rio as Brazil lost to Argentina. Now what could the GFF be writing to him about now?
Oscar tore open the envelope as he walked into his house. “What is it?” asked his wife, Alicia. “My God” said Oscar “They want me to go to the World Cup - to South Korea. The actual World Cup.”. “Oh yes?” said Alicia ”And what will they pay you? You see children? They want your father to travel half way around the world to be a referee, but what will they pay him while he doesn’t work at the sugarcane fields? How are we supposed to live while he travels the world. And how long will you be gone while you are playing at your football refereeing? Maybe they won’t give you your job back when you come back, eh? And who will pay for the flight? And where will you stay?”. “No no, Alicia, listen. It says here I will be there for only a month, they will pay all my expenses, and I will be paid $1,000!”. “Ah! And you will no doubt spend it all on those Korean whores!” Alicia flounced out of the room. But it was good news. $1,000 was a lot of money, as much as Oscar would normally earn in three months, and he would no doubt be given leave of absence from the sugarcane fields.
And he was given leave of absence. In fact his boss slapped him on the back and poured him a drink. “We must celebrate!” he said “You bring great honour to Guatemala. Surely the President himself will be proud of you! Just bring me back a souvenir. And don’t spend all your money on those Korean whores!”.
It was nearly the end of May when Oscar arrived at the airport in Seoul. In his left hand he held his suitcase, newly bought for the occasion, in his right hand his passport. In his inside jacket pocket was a letter from President wishing him luck and congratulating him on the honour he was bringing to Guatemala. “Senor Perdomo! Senor Perdomo!” He heard someone calling his name, and saw a man in official-looking uniform holding
a sign with his name on. He headed in the man’s direction, but as he did so another man approached him, and handed him an envelope, saying “Take this. You’ll find it interesting” . The man was gone before Oscar could even see what he looked like. He clutched the envelope in the same hand as his passport and approached the man with the sign. “I’m Oscar Perdomo” he said. “Ah welcome Senor Perdomo, your car is waiting, follow me”. The man took Oscar to a car, and off they drove.
The whole thing was overwhelming. The modern city of Seoul shone in comparison even with Guatemala City, the car Oscar was driven in was the most luxurious he had ever sat in, and the hotel room he was now sitting in was fantastic. It had its own bathroom, a fridge full of different types of drinks, a telephone, a television, a radio and a bunch of flowers and a welcome bottle of champagne on the large bed. Oscar was not used to such luxury. He sat on the bed and turned on the TV. Incomprehensible language poured from the speaker. Korean. Oscar picked up the remote control and started pressing buttons. No channels in Spanish that he could find, but he found an English news channel which he could just about understand, talking about the start of the World Cup. Oscar took out the three envelopes he now had in his inside pocket: the letter from the President, the envelope the strange man at the airport had given him, and a third envelope that had been handed to him at the hotel reception, emblazoned with the logos of FIFA and of the World Cup. He opened this envelope first. Inside was a detailed schedule. First there was a briefing session to take place on the following day, and a reception in the evening. At the briefing session Oscar would learn which games in the first stage he would be required to take part in.
Oscar opened the second envelope. Inside he found a note. And some cash. He counted the cash. $1,000. Oscar was puzzled. they were paying him already? In cash? Or was this just some spending money? Oscar unfolded the note. He read it. It said: “On Sunday June 9th, in Daejon, you will be the assistant referee in the first round match between Italy and the United States. If you rule out an Italian goal for offside you will receive a further payment of $10,000”. Oscar was amazed. $10,000! It was a huge amount. More than he would normally earn in two years! But he was a professional. He was honest. he had made his reputation as an honest man. he was representing his country. The honour of his country. But.. He stopped. How could they know the schedule? It had not yet been announced? What if this was a test?
All sorts of thoughts ran through Oscar’s mind, and by the time of the briefing session the following day he had hardly had a minute of sleep, despite feeling totally exhausted after all the hours of travel and all the excitement. At the briefing session all the referees and linesmen were advised on FIFA’s priorities. Advised to watch for shirt pulling, for diving and for players who would try and cheat and intimidate them. The schedules were announced. On Sunday June 9th, in Daejon, Oscar was to be the assistant referee in the first round match between Italy and the United States. Oscar was shaken, but said nothing, nodding his ascent and shaking hands as he was introduced to the Belgian who would referee, the Dane who was running the other line and the Argentinean fourth official.
The days went by, and Oscar watched some of the opening games, attended especially organised events, before he travelled up to Daejon on June 8th. He told no one about the note. $10,000! It was such a lot of money! What should he do? By staying silent was he not already complicit?
The day of the match came, and Oscar arose with new resolve. He would not cheat. He would not wave his flag unnecessarily. he would call it as he saw it. He was an honest man. He could not be bought.
The match kicked off. Italy were attacking at his end, his half of the pitch. He pointed his flag the right way at throw-ins, he pointed at the corner when it was a corner, at the six yard are when a goal kick. An Italian dived - he waved his flag. An American fouled an Italian - he waved his flag. An Italian was offside - he waved his flag. Everything he had hoped for came through. There was no goal to rule offside, no opportunity for him to make a controversial decision. At half time the game was 0-0. The second half kicked off. Little happened at his end. Again he waved his flag when an Italian fouled, when an American fouled, for corners, for throw-ins. Nothing difficult, nothing controversial. At the other end, in the Dane’s half, also little was happening. Nearly 90 minutes gone and it was still 0-0, and then - a goal! But no! The Dane had his flag up! Offside! The Italians complained. The Italian coach remonstrated - but the goal was disallowed. The game finished 0-0. Oscar thought- no, surely not. But surely - what would be the point in bribing only one linesman?
Oscar left the field as quickly as possible. He avoided his Danish colleague and left the stadium as quickly as possible after showering and changing. But back at the hotel there was another envelope waiting. He sat on the bed and opened it. Inside: $10,000. And another note. “In the second round you will be assistant referee for the match in Seoul between South Korea and Sweden. You will disallow Swedish goals for offside, and you will receive a further payment, this time of $20,000”. $20,000! In round two? But how could they know? All the first round games had not been completed - neither Sweden nor South Korea had yet qualified. Oscar was astonished. Clearly the whole thing was fixed. Clearly bribery must be rampant. $20,000 - add that to the $10,000 - no the $11,000 they had already paid him that would be $31,000. Over 200,000 Quetzales. Ten years’ wages. Oscar thought, and thought some more. If the whole tournament was corrupt why should he care? With luck he would have to do nothing, as he had done in the previous game and he would be rich. Alicia and the children could have things they could not afford before - a new car, a computer, new furniture, and he would have to do nothing. He would retain his honour, the honour of Guatemala, and they would still pay him. So he resolved.
As predicted (or fixed, as Oscar now believed) a few days later Oscar was running the line in the second round game between South Korea and Sweden. In the first half South Korea scored at Oscar’s end, whilst Sweden equalised with a penalty at the other end, where a Tunisian watched the line. The second half came, and Oscar knew that this was when his resolve would be tested. at first Swede Korean. At the other end, the Koreans attacked, hit the post, the Swedish goalkeeper saved. Corner after corner as the South Koreans tried desperately to wrap up the game, while the Swedes resolutely defended. But, inevitably, the moment came. The Swedes broke a quick attack, the ball breaking forward quickly. A Swedish forward ran forward, heading for the Korean penalty area. Another Swede ran forward. “Don’t pass, don’t pass” Oscar found himself praying. The Swede shot. The Korean goalkeeper saved. Oscar stopped sweating. The game continued in the same pattern, with the Koreans attacking, the Swedes defending, unable to hold on to the ball. With only a minute to play, of course it happened again. The Swedes broke into attack. Again a Swede ran forward, with another player sprinting forward into space. “Don’t pass, don’t pass” Oscar prayed again. The Swede passed, Oscar hesitated, the other Swede scored. Oscar was frozen. He kept his flag down. The Argentinean referee looked at Oscar quizzically. Oscar remained stony-faced, frozen with nerves, as angry Korean players shouted at him. The goal was given, and in what seemed like only a few seconds time the final whistle blew. Oscar left the field. He was both proud and nervous. He had allowed the goal, he had remained honest. But the people who had promised the money? What of them? Oscar felt nervous.
Back at the hotel Oscar was approached by a FIFA Official. The Official handed him an envelope. Oscar looked at it nervously. “It’s your pay” said the man from FIFA. “We do not need you for any more matches, you may return home”.
Still nervous, Oscar arose the next morning. He switched on the English language TV channel. The programme was looking at the previous day’s game. Over and over again the Swedish goal was shown. from every angle, at normal speed, in slow motion. There was no question, no matter which ever way you looked at it, the goal was offside. It should never have been allowed.
Weeks later, back in Oscar heard a car hooting outside his house. “Come outside” he heard Alicia call “Look at the new car I have bought with the money you brought back from Korea!”. Oscar wondered outside and looked at the shiny new car. “For Christ’s sake Alicia” he said. “Did you have to buy a Volvo?”
© David Abse 2006
Not all of Oscar’s refereeing was on such a low scale, though, only last year he had refereed a world cup qualifying game between Columbia and Paraguay - the first Mestizo Indian to referee a world cup game of any kind - and most prestigious of all, had run the line in Rio as Brazil lost to Argentina. Now what could the GFF be writing to him about now?
Oscar tore open the envelope as he walked into his house. “What is it?” asked his wife, Alicia. “My God” said Oscar “They want me to go to the World Cup - to South Korea. The actual World Cup.”. “Oh yes?” said Alicia ”And what will they pay you? You see children? They want your father to travel half way around the world to be a referee, but what will they pay him while he doesn’t work at the sugarcane fields? How are we supposed to live while he travels the world. And how long will you be gone while you are playing at your football refereeing? Maybe they won’t give you your job back when you come back, eh? And who will pay for the flight? And where will you stay?”. “No no, Alicia, listen. It says here I will be there for only a month, they will pay all my expenses, and I will be paid $1,000!”. “Ah! And you will no doubt spend it all on those Korean whores!” Alicia flounced out of the room. But it was good news. $1,000 was a lot of money, as much as Oscar would normally earn in three months, and he would no doubt be given leave of absence from the sugarcane fields.
And he was given leave of absence. In fact his boss slapped him on the back and poured him a drink. “We must celebrate!” he said “You bring great honour to Guatemala. Surely the President himself will be proud of you! Just bring me back a souvenir. And don’t spend all your money on those Korean whores!”.
It was nearly the end of May when Oscar arrived at the airport in Seoul. In his left hand he held his suitcase, newly bought for the occasion, in his right hand his passport. In his inside jacket pocket was a letter from President wishing him luck and congratulating him on the honour he was bringing to Guatemala. “Senor Perdomo! Senor Perdomo!” He heard someone calling his name, and saw a man in official-looking uniform holding
a sign with his name on. He headed in the man’s direction, but as he did so another man approached him, and handed him an envelope, saying “Take this. You’ll find it interesting” . The man was gone before Oscar could even see what he looked like. He clutched the envelope in the same hand as his passport and approached the man with the sign. “I’m Oscar Perdomo” he said. “Ah welcome Senor Perdomo, your car is waiting, follow me”. The man took Oscar to a car, and off they drove.
The whole thing was overwhelming. The modern city of Seoul shone in comparison even with Guatemala City, the car Oscar was driven in was the most luxurious he had ever sat in, and the hotel room he was now sitting in was fantastic. It had its own bathroom, a fridge full of different types of drinks, a telephone, a television, a radio and a bunch of flowers and a welcome bottle of champagne on the large bed. Oscar was not used to such luxury. He sat on the bed and turned on the TV. Incomprehensible language poured from the speaker. Korean. Oscar picked up the remote control and started pressing buttons. No channels in Spanish that he could find, but he found an English news channel which he could just about understand, talking about the start of the World Cup. Oscar took out the three envelopes he now had in his inside pocket: the letter from the President, the envelope the strange man at the airport had given him, and a third envelope that had been handed to him at the hotel reception, emblazoned with the logos of FIFA and of the World Cup. He opened this envelope first. Inside was a detailed schedule. First there was a briefing session to take place on the following day, and a reception in the evening. At the briefing session Oscar would learn which games in the first stage he would be required to take part in.
Oscar opened the second envelope. Inside he found a note. And some cash. He counted the cash. $1,000. Oscar was puzzled. they were paying him already? In cash? Or was this just some spending money? Oscar unfolded the note. He read it. It said: “On Sunday June 9th, in Daejon, you will be the assistant referee in the first round match between Italy and the United States. If you rule out an Italian goal for offside you will receive a further payment of $10,000”. Oscar was amazed. $10,000! It was a huge amount. More than he would normally earn in two years! But he was a professional. He was honest. he had made his reputation as an honest man. he was representing his country. The honour of his country. But.. He stopped. How could they know the schedule? It had not yet been announced? What if this was a test?
All sorts of thoughts ran through Oscar’s mind, and by the time of the briefing session the following day he had hardly had a minute of sleep, despite feeling totally exhausted after all the hours of travel and all the excitement. At the briefing session all the referees and linesmen were advised on FIFA’s priorities. Advised to watch for shirt pulling, for diving and for players who would try and cheat and intimidate them. The schedules were announced. On Sunday June 9th, in Daejon, Oscar was to be the assistant referee in the first round match between Italy and the United States. Oscar was shaken, but said nothing, nodding his ascent and shaking hands as he was introduced to the Belgian who would referee, the Dane who was running the other line and the Argentinean fourth official.
The days went by, and Oscar watched some of the opening games, attended especially organised events, before he travelled up to Daejon on June 8th. He told no one about the note. $10,000! It was such a lot of money! What should he do? By staying silent was he not already complicit?
The day of the match came, and Oscar arose with new resolve. He would not cheat. He would not wave his flag unnecessarily. he would call it as he saw it. He was an honest man. He could not be bought.
The match kicked off. Italy were attacking at his end, his half of the pitch. He pointed his flag the right way at throw-ins, he pointed at the corner when it was a corner, at the six yard are when a goal kick. An Italian dived - he waved his flag. An American fouled an Italian - he waved his flag. An Italian was offside - he waved his flag. Everything he had hoped for came through. There was no goal to rule offside, no opportunity for him to make a controversial decision. At half time the game was 0-0. The second half kicked off. Little happened at his end. Again he waved his flag when an Italian fouled, when an American fouled, for corners, for throw-ins. Nothing difficult, nothing controversial. At the other end, in the Dane’s half, also little was happening. Nearly 90 minutes gone and it was still 0-0, and then - a goal! But no! The Dane had his flag up! Offside! The Italians complained. The Italian coach remonstrated - but the goal was disallowed. The game finished 0-0. Oscar thought- no, surely not. But surely - what would be the point in bribing only one linesman?
Oscar left the field as quickly as possible. He avoided his Danish colleague and left the stadium as quickly as possible after showering and changing. But back at the hotel there was another envelope waiting. He sat on the bed and opened it. Inside: $10,000. And another note. “In the second round you will be assistant referee for the match in Seoul between South Korea and Sweden. You will disallow Swedish goals for offside, and you will receive a further payment, this time of $20,000”. $20,000! In round two? But how could they know? All the first round games had not been completed - neither Sweden nor South Korea had yet qualified. Oscar was astonished. Clearly the whole thing was fixed. Clearly bribery must be rampant. $20,000 - add that to the $10,000 - no the $11,000 they had already paid him that would be $31,000. Over 200,000 Quetzales. Ten years’ wages. Oscar thought, and thought some more. If the whole tournament was corrupt why should he care? With luck he would have to do nothing, as he had done in the previous game and he would be rich. Alicia and the children could have things they could not afford before - a new car, a computer, new furniture, and he would have to do nothing. He would retain his honour, the honour of Guatemala, and they would still pay him. So he resolved.
As predicted (or fixed, as Oscar now believed) a few days later Oscar was running the line in the second round game between South Korea and Sweden. In the first half South Korea scored at Oscar’s end, whilst Sweden equalised with a penalty at the other end, where a Tunisian watched the line. The second half came, and Oscar knew that this was when his resolve would be tested. at first Swede Korean. At the other end, the Koreans attacked, hit the post, the Swedish goalkeeper saved. Corner after corner as the South Koreans tried desperately to wrap up the game, while the Swedes resolutely defended. But, inevitably, the moment came. The Swedes broke a quick attack, the ball breaking forward quickly. A Swedish forward ran forward, heading for the Korean penalty area. Another Swede ran forward. “Don’t pass, don’t pass” Oscar found himself praying. The Swede shot. The Korean goalkeeper saved. Oscar stopped sweating. The game continued in the same pattern, with the Koreans attacking, the Swedes defending, unable to hold on to the ball. With only a minute to play, of course it happened again. The Swedes broke into attack. Again a Swede ran forward, with another player sprinting forward into space. “Don’t pass, don’t pass” Oscar prayed again. The Swede passed, Oscar hesitated, the other Swede scored. Oscar was frozen. He kept his flag down. The Argentinean referee looked at Oscar quizzically. Oscar remained stony-faced, frozen with nerves, as angry Korean players shouted at him. The goal was given, and in what seemed like only a few seconds time the final whistle blew. Oscar left the field. He was both proud and nervous. He had allowed the goal, he had remained honest. But the people who had promised the money? What of them? Oscar felt nervous.
Back at the hotel Oscar was approached by a FIFA Official. The Official handed him an envelope. Oscar looked at it nervously. “It’s your pay” said the man from FIFA. “We do not need you for any more matches, you may return home”.
Still nervous, Oscar arose the next morning. He switched on the English language TV channel. The programme was looking at the previous day’s game. Over and over again the Swedish goal was shown. from every angle, at normal speed, in slow motion. There was no question, no matter which ever way you looked at it, the goal was offside. It should never have been allowed.
Weeks later, back in Oscar heard a car hooting outside his house. “Come outside” he heard Alicia call “Look at the new car I have bought with the money you brought back from Korea!”. Oscar wondered outside and looked at the shiny new car. “For Christ’s sake Alicia” he said. “Did you have to buy a Volvo?”
© David Abse 2006
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
More publicity for my new venture
Monday, April 19, 2010
Matelles-Art
Friday, March 05, 2010
Cardiff or Montpellier? Supporting is not a crime.
You don't have to spend a fortune to be successful football team. The combination of greed and incompetence that City have suffered under successive (no surprise) greedy and incompetent ego-maniacs like Hammam and Ridsdale has seriously damaged the club. The amount of money both have taken OUT of the club is a disgrace (forget what the players are earning), and the stupidity of those running the stadium project (Ridsadale, Borley) and getting the club further into debt when it couldn't afford it is beyond any level of acceptability in a normal company (banks excepted). Ridsdale pays himself a million a year, Hammam took out millions in fees and god knows what else. The stadiujm project was under-budgetted for by AT LEAT £7 million and relied on unrealistic projected retail investments. (Monorail, monorail, monorail).
Our crowds of 19,000 every game SHOULD be generating a profit - and would be if it were not for the debts that need servicing. IF we make it to summer without going into administration, our best players will go, and PMG (who own most of the club and have borrowed on the back of some players' transfer values) will get some of their money back. Our team will be severely weakened and we will be lucky to be challenging for anything other than relegation.
To see how it should be done read http://www.wsc.co.uk/content/view/4764/38/. Thank god I now live nearer to Montpellier than Cardiff so can get to watch some decent football while those buggers in Cardiff break my heart.
To add to the WSC story Costa is a SERIOUSLY good player with an alarmingly hard shot, the ability to skip past players like they aren't there. Spahic is the sort of sweeper you rarely get to see - one who can read the game so well it doesn't matter that he is slow. Jeunechamp is a terrific left-back, wearing number 27 (of course) so you can fantasize that he's a City fan, whilst Pitau is a ringer for Craig Middleton.
Meanwhile Montpellier's young players are well represented by Ait Fana, representing the young local community's multi-cultural nature, French mixed with north African. Just like the crowd (incidentally a few less than who go to cardiff's home games - 17,000 odd): the Ultras who sing behind the goal all match long, letting off flares behind a banner that says "supporter n'est pas un crime" - "Supporting is not a crime".
Viva la Paillade, but viva les Oiseaux Bleues.
Our crowds of 19,000 every game SHOULD be generating a profit - and would be if it were not for the debts that need servicing. IF we make it to summer without going into administration, our best players will go, and PMG (who own most of the club and have borrowed on the back of some players' transfer values) will get some of their money back. Our team will be severely weakened and we will be lucky to be challenging for anything other than relegation.
To see how it should be done read http://www.wsc.co.uk/content/view/4764/38/. Thank god I now live nearer to Montpellier than Cardiff so can get to watch some decent football while those buggers in Cardiff break my heart.
To add to the WSC story Costa is a SERIOUSLY good player with an alarmingly hard shot, the ability to skip past players like they aren't there. Spahic is the sort of sweeper you rarely get to see - one who can read the game so well it doesn't matter that he is slow. Jeunechamp is a terrific left-back, wearing number 27 (of course) so you can fantasize that he's a City fan, whilst Pitau is a ringer for Craig Middleton.
Meanwhile Montpellier's young players are well represented by Ait Fana, representing the young local community's multi-cultural nature, French mixed with north African. Just like the crowd (incidentally a few less than who go to cardiff's home games - 17,000 odd): the Ultras who sing behind the goal all match long, letting off flares behind a banner that says "supporter n'est pas un crime" - "Supporting is not a crime".
Viva la Paillade, but viva les Oiseaux Bleues.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
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