Clap Your Hands, Stamp Your FeetAn independent view of Watford FC and football in general

BACK IN BLACK... AND WHITE!

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Geri says:“Good Lord! Are you Clap boys still going in glorious black and white? I may even pick up the mic and start miming again…”

CreditsThe editorial team would like to extend their immense gratitude in no particular order to the following people, without whom this fanzine would not have been possible: Marvin MonroeJay’s MumSteve CuthbertTom WillisWoody WyndhamJosh FreedmanCapt’n ToddyMartin & Frances PipeJamie Parkins (for the photos)Mike ParkinHamish CurrieGuy JudgeChris LawtonMartin PollardEd Messenger (since 1951)Tim TurnerBill Wilkinsonour sellers Sam Martin and Ian Grant.. and of course to you our readers for buying it! Thanks a million!Barry and John

Design and layout by John Wood. Freelance Graphic Designer available for all small business and personal printed design needs inc. Marketing Flyers & Brochures, Invitations, MS Powerpoint Templates, Corporate Identity and Branding. No web work. No job too small! email: hornintheusa@hotmail.com

While this edition is officially a ‘one off’ at the moment, if you would like to see Clap Your Hands Stamp Your Feet back on the streets at another date in future then please continue to send your padding to our email address over the next few months and if we get enough contributions we may yet be back in the springtime... yep, fairweather fanzine sellers - that’s us!

cyhsyf@yahoo.co.ukThe views expressed in this fanzine are not necessarily shared by the editors and we take no responsibility for any offence or controversy arising from their publication. It’s only a load of old padding anyway so if it has caused offence - get a life!

... September �nd 1980 ...

A young Nigel Callaghan (far right) has just written his name into Watford folklore

“I hadn’t had a touch of the ball,” said 17 year old substitute Nigel Callaghan. “Martin Patching told me to go into the box. The ball just came to me. I hit it. I thought it would bounce out when it hit the bar. But it was in. I just grabbed the nearest person. It hasn’t sunk in yet, I’m numb, It’s amazing. It’s like a dream.”

Of all Watford’s ‘Special Nights’ - and there have been many - surely this one was THE Special One. The 7-1 humbling of First Division Southampton, wiping out a 4-0 first leg deficit, was Roy of the Rovers stuff - capped off by a 17 year old unknown called Nigel Callaghan coming off the bench to smash the 6th goal into the roof of the net and finally edge us ahead in the tie.

Cally went on to score many fantastic goals for the Orns, the cheeky backheel against West Ham, the two screamers away to Notts County, the last minute volley at Old Trafford all come to mind. But this is the one that the few of us lucky enough to witness it will remember long after the others.

Cally is Watford through and through - spotted as a youngster playing in Hemel and came up through the youth team. An object of much affection on and off the field, not least for his legendary ‘Cally’s Discos’. But there was nobody better at whipping in deadly accurate crosses from the right - even David Beckham would have had to doff his hat to him if he’d been around in those days. While a small minority of the crowd foolishly labelled him lazy, he battled hard and won them over, before moving onto Derby and Villa, and a brief but successful loan spell back at the Vic in March 1991.

Sadly, earlier this year Cally found that he had an even bigger battle on his hands against bowel cancer.

Now almost 30 years to the day since AC/DC released Back in Black, and Cally scored THAT goal, it’s time to salute a true local hero, the legendary DJ with the legendary waistline, and wish him the best of luck for the coming months and years.

Money raised from the sale of this fanzine will benefit The Bobby Moore Fund, Nigel Callaghan’s chosen cancer charity. Please make your donation at:

�John Wood

http://www.justgiving.com/CYHSYF

Derby County Legends v Watford LegendsPride Park Stadium, Sunday 12th September, KO 1.00pm. Former stars of both Watford and Derby County will meet at Pride Park in September as the two clubs join together to raise money for former Hornet Nigel Callaghan. Watford Chairman Graham Taylor, as well as Luther Blissett and John Barnes have already confirmed their attendance. Other former Golden Boys on show will include John McClelland, Nigel Gibbs, Steve Palmer, Neil Price and Iwan Roberts. All funds raised on the day will go to Nigel Callaghan, the Bobby Moore Cancer Research and Lewis Mighty. Tickets are now available to purchase for the game, costing £10 for adults and £5 for concessions. They can be purchased from the Derby County Ticket Office by calling 0871 472 1884 or by logging on to wearederby.com.

Watford Waffle

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First of all, let me do the Oscar speech. I’d like to say what a pleasure it has been to be given the honour of the Waffle page. As it is increasingly unlikely I’ll get to trot out onto the hallowed Vicarage Road turf decked in the famous yellow with the skipper’s tourniquet strapped around my upper arm, this is as close as I am ever going to get to fulfilling my childhood dream. There are so many people who have made this adventure possible and who have been listed in the credits page – I love all of you!In this edition, we have some of the regular old faces as well as some new talent on show. A combination of nostalgia, serious, amusing and some downright padding. All in a typical Clap read really. You know you love it. So, it has been the best part of a decade since the ragamuffin publication Clap Your Hands Stamp Your Feet waltzed its way onto the streets of WD18. As I am sure a lot of you know, a lot of the writers continued carrying the banner into the excellent Look At The Stars, an amalgamation of Clap and The Yellow Experience, well into the last decade, but for a while I’ve been thinking about doing a one off special.I’ve received several emails asking me if this is definitely a one off special. The answer is an ambiguous ‘probably’. It is genuinely flattering that people still remember us and miss us, but what with a plethora of fanzine style tittle-tattle readily and freely available on the web, is there really a need for a hard copy publication on the streets? Also as well, the original fanzine editorial team (some of which you’ll spot later) have pretty much all grown up, got responsible jobs, got married and are now all pillars of the community. Well, something like that. That’s our story and we’re sticking to it. But like the boys of Take That and some bands of the 1980s, we thought we’d get our laptops out and perform one last time.The last thing CYHSYF was involved with was the Graham Taylor Special at the end of the 2001 season. So, in that time what has happened? Well, in the summer before there was an autopsy on the England team’s failure to set the world alight at a major tournament, Manchester United were dominating the English league, whilst Liverpool where losing ground everyday, but thinking of more inventive excuses (is it a coincidence they’ve never won the league since they banned the back pass rule?) Tottenham were just a couple of great players away from being ‘great’ again and Watford where pootling along in the lower second tier. Actually, not a lot has changed at all has it?

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But as always, it has been far from boring. We had the excitement and expectation of the Vialli campaign for it all to end in bitter disappointment, the loving tenure of Uncle Ray, who remarkably (and looking back, goodness knows how) brought us not only the very survival of our club, but chucked in a couple of semi finals. The progressive sound-biting wisdom of Aidy Boothroyd who not only shook the club up so much, the cabbages are still reverberating in the allotments to our current appointment, the likeable student, Malky.The mediocre personnel of Jamie Hand and Steve Kabba are now only distant memories of the statisticians, but the wondrous moments that where produced by Marlon King (he was great for us, despite his later misdemeanours) and Ashley Young will stay for years. Who can forget that 3-0 victory at Smellhurst Park? There where many, many other stars too, but I’ve singled them out because of that day.We’ve also borrowed some great players like Adam Johnson and young Tom Cleveley. Even though they were never ‘ours’, we still think of them as ‘Orns.But for me though, Watford is all about Jay DeMerits and Lloyd Doyleys. We don’t expect players to be the best in the world, but we’ll take any player to our hearts who’ll run and try until they are pooped, before you can utter the words ‘Sir Thomas Mooney’.Managers come, managers go. Players come, players go. Fanzines come, fanzines go. The ethos of the club and its fans will always be the same, and I’ll bet if we knock out CYHSYF in fifty years time things will be pretty much as if time has stood still. I wouldn’t mind betting that the East Stand will still be there.Stop press!This edition went to print just before the Coventry game, but thankfully just a couple of days after our triumph at Carrow Road. I tuned into the game far from looking forward to it and frankly expected to get turned over, so I imagine, like you, I was overjoyed to see the Canaries taken to the cleaners. We more than rattled their cage.Okay, the defending was ‘Oh s**t!’ rather more frequently than I would have wanted, but the team deserve immense credit for their gallant approach. Graham’s goals and Eustace’s bossing of the game rightly got the plaudits, but Sordell, Buckley and Cowie deserve mentions too. If those ninety minutes is anything to go by, another heart-stopping season beckons. Being a Horn is never dull.As always, the message of the fanzine is the same: Support the team.Barry French.One footnote. I thought I did rather well not to mention L*t*n’s current plight. Oops..

Lord Alan Sugar is one of Britain’s most respected businessmen. Best known in the 1980s as the producer of the home computer that wasn’t the ZX Spectrum or the Commodore 64, and in the 1990s as the owner of the North London football club that wasn’t Arsenal, Lord Sugar is now on the lookout for an apprentice manager. There is no room for sentiment in this game and there can be only one winner.Following a disappointing run of results both Fabio Capello and Brendan Rodgers are called back to the boardroom to explain their performance to Lord Sugar.LAS: Gentlemen welcome, Tonight one of you is going to receive a contract from the FA worth £12M allowing you to sit on your backside doing very little for the next 2 years as you attempt to guide a group of overpaid, overrated underachievers through the Euro 2012 qualifiers. One of you is going to get fired but don’t worry, you will join the merry go round of failed football managers and within 6 months will pick up a job with the likes of Hull City, Queens Park Rangers, or Crystal Palace.FC & BR: (almost inaudible) Good evening Lord Alan.LAS: Well Fabio. It was a simple task – Win the World Cup. What went wrong?FC: We scored a good goal. The ball was definitely over the line. We need video technology.LAS: Oh spare me please. Video replays? I must have seen the video replay of Robert Green’s howler a million times. Why didn’t you play David James from the start?FC: I don’t know.LAS: I’m struggling to understand what happened myself. You romped through the qualifiers with ease but collapse under the weight of expectation at the first sign of pressure. I’m beginning to think maybe Postman Pat can’t deliver. Anyway we digress, tell me Fabio, John Terry, good team leader?

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FC: No he chased after all the WAGs and disrupted the team morale. I had to make Steven Gerrard captain.LAS: Ah now we are talking. Gerrard, Lampard, and the golden generation. Even my 5 year old nephew knows they can’t play together in the same team. FC: I can get anyone to play beautiful football.LAS: Two words – Emile HeskeyFC: Sorry Lord Sugar. I meant I can get almost anyone to play beautiful football.LAS: As for your squad selection, why did you ask Jamie Carragher out of retirement and sound out Paul Scholes. You may have well selected Jimmy Greaves and Bobby Moore.FC: Bobby Moore?LAS: Yes he wore the shirt with pride. He has passed away sadly, God rest his soul, but the bookies still think he’s more likely to get through 90 minutes than Ledley King! Anyway, over to you now Brendan. I think you misunderstood your task. When I asked you to take Reading out the Championship I meant promotion to the Premiership not through the trap door to Division 1.BR: Sorry Lord Sugar.LAS: Stuck in the bottom 3 is a pretty poor performance in all honesty. Who’s to blame?BR: Reading didn’t score enough goals. I blame Jimmy Russo.LAS: Blame someone else? Interesting. Why Jimmy Russo?BR: He wouldn’t sell me Tommy Smith. He kept turning down my bids.LAS: He wouldn’t let you have him on the cheap more like. You knew full well Watford wanted £1.8M. I’m reliably informed that your conduct didn’t go down too well in that neck of the woods. Brendan tell me why I shouldn’t fire you?BR: Given another chance I will succeed. Reading is the only job I’ve ever wanted.LAS: Brendan, I’ve had a look at your CV. It’s thinner than a supermodel standing sideways and I’ve seen more content on a luggage label.BR: I was born to manage Reading and I’m begging you to give me another chance.LAS: As always I’ve got a tough decision to make. Fabio, your CV appears outstanding but whether you can cut it at International level remains to be seen. If you learn from your mistakes and utilise the talent of young players such as Ashley Young, Adam Johnson, and Ben Foster my gut feeling is that you could still come up with the goods.FC: Thank You, I know I can make a success of the England Job.LAS: Brendan, I’ll be honest, I have my concerns about you and I think you are out of your depth somewhat. I have a nagging doubt at the back of my mind that you got lucky at Watford and left before you were found out. Only time will tell if I’m right. I know the Watford board and their fans will disagree with me but I think you are a nice guy, an honourable gentleman…..but…..Brendan, with regret…..YOU’RE FIRED!

Marvin Monroe�

Those were the days, my friend...... we thought they’d never end.Martin Pipe takes a nostalgic look at some of the glory days of the early 80s

In the 1980s there was no satellite television, no dedicated sports channels and the only football on television was BBC’s Match of the Day that tended to only show highlights of two Division One matches. ITV offered Soccer Sunday with Brian Moore on Sunday afternoons but the fare offered was even sketchier than that on ‘the other side’. If you wanted to follow your football team the only way to see them was to get yourself down to the ground.

The 1982-83 season had been nothing less than magical for the Hornets, as they reached the dizzy heights of Division One runners-up but, for all this, I only went to see my team play twice during the whole season. It was not a great time for me financially because I had just started to pay a mortgage for the first time in my life and football at The Vic suddenly had to be given a lower priority - something I found almost physically painful. In seasons prior to this I had been a regular through the turnstiles, either sitting in the East Stand or, on occasions, standing at the Vicarage Road end.

I had witnessed some of the highlights of Watford’s football in the lower divisions (such as the 6-0 walloping of Doncaster Rovers) as well as some of the more dire confrontations (Torquay 0-0 draw in the relentless drizzle of January), but now the Horns were in the highest echelon of English football and I felt isolated from the drama that was unfolding.

By 1983-84 my situation hadn’t changed (unsurprisingly) and again the Hornets amazed the country by reaching the FA Cup final and walking out onto the Wembley turf behind Graham Taylor. I was really well and truly missing out on the highlife.

So, in the second half of the 1984-85 season my brother paid for me to see the away match at Loftus Road and I accepted his offer with alacrity! We lost 2-0 but the Golden Boys had played reasonably well and the performance belied Watford ’s precarious position in the league at this time. It was only toward the very end of the season that I earned a small promotion at work (and thus pay rise) and the national interest rate dropped at the same time, so this allowed me to be able to afford to see some games and although there were only three matches left I still felt relieved that I was going to see Watford again after such a prolonged absence.

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The three matches were away to Spurs at White Hart Lane , followed just a couple of days later by a home match against Manchester United and, to finish, we travelled to Liverpool and I visited Anfield for the first (and only) time in my life. I was able to get tickets for all three and I even booked the whole week off work.

Watford were fighting against relegation and these three games promised little in the way of points but if this was to be the club’s final chapter in the first division then I was happy just to share in the excitement.

This was my first ever visit to White Hart Lane and my seat was not at all comfortable. Amazingly it didn’t matter much because I was hardly ever in it. Watford played their hearts out, scoring five goals whilst letting in only one (a Glenn Hoddle penalty) and I was hoarse by the time the game was over. I left the ground in a daze, wondering how the hell we were so far down the table if we had played like that all season. Later, Graham Taylor was to proclaim that this was the best Watford performance he had ever seen. Incidentally, this was the day of the horrendous fire at Bradford City – so upon my return home the big news was from Yorkshire rather than from North London .

So, next up was United and I settled down in the beautifully rustic East Stand. Looking at the back page of my programme made me feel nervous as I saw the names on our opposition’s team-sheet; names such as Whiteside, Strachan, Hughes, Stapleton and Brazil . Could these guys really be stopped by Coton, Sinnott, Rostron, Taylor and Terry? Well, once again Watford won 5-1 with Nigel Callaghan scoring twice. Watford were now assured of Division One football for another season regardless of the result of the final game at Anfield so the pressure was lifted from our shoulders.

Christ, the Kop are a bloody noisy bunch and they didn’t let up singing and chanting for the whole game. To be fair, Watford did their best to silence them by scoring twice before Liverpool began to settle into their rhythm. It was a pulsating game that ended in a 4-3 defeat for the Hornets but it was a near thing because Watford created chances the whole match. At the final whistle the Kop were chanting, in unison, “ Watford , Watford !” How often does that happen at away matches??

I’d seen three matches and three incredible performances from Watford and it was “obvious” that next season would be another meteoric ride in Division One. I was so confident I could have put my house on it...

Martin Pipe

The flying John Barnes leaves a defender on his arse yet again 9

Dear Old East Stand...Hideous eyesore or a gentle reminder of our roots? Jay’s Mum writes a poignant tribute, maybe we’ll all miss it more than we think...

I need to share with you how much I miss sitting in the old East Stand. We originally sat there cos it’s just by where I used to stand with my Dad, in front of the Junior Hornets Hut and peering over the white wall as Stewart Scullion rocketed up and down. Later, being able to afford a seat was brilliant and we used to pay every week, Charlie Coulsham used to give us ‘the married couple discount’. I didn’t realise he’d made it up, probably realising we couldn’t afford season tickets, until I stupidly asked for it one day when he wasn’t at the ticket office window and got a very strange look.

The East Stand was warm and friendly. We knew everyone around us, including the stewards, years later, when we got chucked out, the steward saved my little silver ‘loyal supporter’ plaque (plastic of course) that the club had stuck on my seat with a bit of tacky, I’ve still got it now, he found me to give it to me. When Elton was there, you were that close you could tickle him - if you felt that way inclined - and we always used to try and read the scouts’ notes, but never could. The stand, being wooden, oozed character and atmosphere. The dressing rooms were underneath, so it was always warm. You did have those pillars blocking the view, but it was a better view than the new one in the Rookery.

When they shut the first bit and we had to move, we moved to the other end of the stand in front of the press box. We lost all our old friends, and have never quite regained that level of togetherness in new seats, but this end had it’s own advantages - WAG watching - and meeting Ashley Young’s lovely family - what lovely people, I absolutely loved his youngest brother, and his Mum is brilliant. Neil Cox’s little girl stood out as a real cutie too.

When they finally pull the old eyesore down, I just hope somebody rescues the Hornets tiles and hand-dryer from the ladies - they are vintage, irreplaceable - and MINE.

Jay’s Mum10

World Cup Report: Must Do Better!Not even the unexpected heat wave of early July could cover up our “Proud and Noble,” country’s despicable display in South Africa this summer. The in-visible passion and lack of commitment filled our high definition screens for a widely publicized three weeks as millions of customers tuned in to ITV HD on the 12th June only to miss one third of England’s goals this summer (or one fourth). “The goal that never was” sparked another debate about whether video technology should be introduced into football, which then poses the question, why? We do not need more technology than HD and sky+ to see in a good quality picture and the ability to rewind live TV to watch action multiple times to tell us that the twenty-three picked England players were, and are, well, over-paid, useless outcasts. Or if FIFA are really that bothered to assist three qualified and highly paid officials that cannot use their twenty-twenty vision to decide whether the perfectly round ball crossed the nicely painted, straight white line then instead of inventing brand spanking new technology, they can simply call a sky+ viewer, who, at a click of a button, can rewind his TV and confirm whether the ball definitely crossed that line!

So what now for the England set up? It is clear that every football fan in this country thinks he knows what is best for the team (Watford fans suggest a team full of Doyleys) and better than Capello himself but will the Italian, post-June genius, go with his word and transfer his faith into the younger, more inexperienced players? The Adam Johnsons, the Ashley Youngs and Gabby Agbonlahors almost certainly have the best chance they will ever get to impress the manager and firmly cement a place in the squad for the up-coming European qualifiers in September. Capello, flawless in qualifying, has come under tight scrutiny over his bemusing tactics and team selection, yet has the full backing from the FA who made the wise decision in backing the �� year-old. Of course we could dwell on particular decisions such as bringing �-goal Heskey on instead of �1-goal Crouch with twenty minutes remaining and chasing a game but surely we must support him. His first job in inter-national football has only brought five defeats in two and a half years and brought in a “no tolerance” policy with rules that include no mobile phones at the table and the gaffer to be answered to as “yes father.” Others however are hoping for the kidnapping and appointment of Paul the Psychic octopus as England’s new football advisor.

Josh Freedman

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It’s five past five, and this…is Sports Report!A view from the away end...

“Palace away and then Burnley away on the Saturday – that will probably be the worst week of my life”. This was a quote from my brother Dan as the fixtures were published in June.When he said this, he was telling me a porkie. For it won’t be the worst week of his life. It will be another badge of honour to share with other horns when he meets them in holiday bars and local pubs. It will be the winning hand when getting involved in a debate with another ‘die hard’ Chelsea fan (“Haven’t missed the game on telly for two years mate”). There is a certain sense of satisfaction of getting to various stadia around the country. To get to Plymouth on a Tuesday night is the footballing equivalent of running a marathon. Not impossible for most but quite a feat to achieve. And if you look around the away end at Plymouth you will see 350 hornets who have the knowing glint in their eye that says “Yeah I’m here. Took all day, and time off from work, and earache from the missus about ‘it’s only a game’, but I’m here”.And for this reason alone I hope Watford never make it to the Premier League again. For ‘proper fans’ it is seen as a challenge to wake up on a Saturday morning and try to negotiate the train network and get to Selhurst Park in time for a pint before kick off at 3pm. All with a hangover, and in Dan’s case, non stop beer sweats. And all this to get to a ground that you despise, and being given this dreadful hospitality for best part of thirty quid. Getting to Everton for 1pm on a Sunday doesn’t have the same ring to it. Getting to The Emirates with its shiny pavements and giving me the football arena experience isn’t for me.The arrival is the best part. Getting in to the ground in an enemy territory and seeing flashes of yellow and black, everybody has something Watford branded, even if it’s just a baseball cap. Even getting past stewards feels like being in a WW2 film where the lead character is using a fake ID to get on a train out of the area. It’s like being in a war torn country and finding sanctuary in a church. You are amongst your own and you have the same feeling even if you’ve only just parked the car 20 yards away. And looking around you’ll see faces you know. Not necessarily people you know personally, just faces to recognise from other travels. At some point(s) the now

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Aidy Boothroyd’s Spot the Ball CompetitionThe ball has been removed from the following action shot taken during Aidy Boothroyd’s time as manager.

To be in with a chance of winning a great prize just mark the location you think the ball is with an X.

1st Prize – A ticket to a Coventry City first team match of your choice.2nd Prize – Two tickets to a Coventry City first team match of your choice3rd Prize – A 2010/11 Coventry City Season TicketMarvin Monroe

customary “Yoouuoornns” will go up from someone just to remind everybody what end we are in. It’s a small piece of Barnsley that for the next two hours is a pocket of Hertfordshire. The game itself will unfold in whichever way it does. In recent times it’s a question of going through the motions and seeing if a point can be taken. Usually at an away game you will get annoyed with one player because he doesn’t look like he’s put the effort in. And you have. Doesn’t he realise the lengths you’ve gone to see him play like that?! Stop coasting!But whatever the result, usually Dan and I will have the same argument as we always have when we leave the ground. An argument that most will have in the cars, trains and buses back to the local area, as we all disperse amongst the enemy like at the end of Escape to Victory.“Why do we always come here”“Dunno,”“Well that’s the last time”“Nah, we always come here, it’s like a tradition now”“Ok. Put Five Live on”.

Tom Willis, Watford Legends (www.watfordlegends.com)

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Well and Truly Rodgered

“Well Brendan, what made you apply for the job of manager of Portsmouth F.C?”

“Well, as I said, I’ve identified with Portsmouth as being a world-class club that I would feel to have a big part to play in future success with myself. There’s been good communication with Avram, who I worked with extensively at Chelsea, together with Jose. As I said, these are world-class managers and I cannot help but feel confidence having the real respect of these great men about me that respect my integrity. You may not be aware of this, but Jose personally recruited myself to a world-class club like Chelsea and nurtured myself into being a world-class manager like himself - and Avram, of course. If I have a problem I know that Jose is always there for me. I know I can call him any time for advice. By the way, it’s not widely known but Jose also has a wicked sense of humour. I once called and asked his wife if the Special One was at home. He knew very well that I could hear, of course, when he called across the room, “Oh no! Not that Irish twat again!” Wicked! He calls me The Specious One! LOL!

“I see. And what type of players would you be looking to bring in, taking into account our limited resources?”

“I have a world-wide and world-class network of contacts around the world. As I said, I would plan to bring in mouthy teenagers from Chelsea reserves and various players who have repeatedly underperformed elsewhere, but really, really want to play for me again. Tommy will also be very pleased. He rings me every week saying that he feels he’s not appreciated here and begs me to come here. He feels he is a forgotten man here. He told me he’s very, very sorry for what happened with the unfortunate misunderstanding at Reading. At the time, I thought I’d made it clear that we had the intent that that was the offer for Tommy, but Tommy said he knew nothing about it and that nasty Mr. Russo planned it all from beginning to end. I can well believe it. Tommy is a good lad who hugely respects me as a manager and desires only to play for myself, as do all players who have ever played for myself, of whom, all of whom, I got the best out of.”

“Things did not go so well for you at Reading. What would you put that down to?”

“As I said, I would not agree that things did not go well. We had to sell all our best players

Don’t ask us how, but we managed to get hold of part of the transcript of Brendan Rodgers’ interview for the Pompey job:

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and then I had to get the new team to adjust to playing real football - my football. The players had become accustomed to getting the ball into the opposition’s goal area as much as possible and trying to score goals. They had to be completely re-educated to have the patience to repeatedly tap the ball about in defence and midfield in the hope that an opening would eventually present itself. World-class football does not happen overnight. Things were just coming good (I remember Jobi played a cracker one game and Raziak was just beginning to look vaguely interested) when the plug was pulled. I think it no coincidence that the team started winning regularly as soon as I left.”

“Thank you very much, Mr. Rodgers. We’ll be in touch... Oh, by the way, who’s Tommy?”

Steve Cuthbert

Gone but not forgotten:Terry Challis “The Magician with the Pen”Sadly, Terry passed away in October 2009, aged 74. He worked over 30 years for the Wobbie.

He was a wonderful man and an absolute gentleman. He was someone who used to make us smile on a Friday morning with his lightning wit and an unearthly ability to find humour after a gruelling 17-0 defeat to Darlington on a Tuesday night. In many ways, his gallows humour was a template for all that this fanzine stands for.

I had the privilege of meeting him once. I don’t know what it was about him, but he was just so damn funny! I get the impression he touched the hearts of everyone he met.

A natural humorist and a far better artist than he perhaps got credit for. Who can forget THAT painting?

Thanks for all the laughs Terry. We all miss you.

Barry French

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Clarke Carlisle’s Watford Countdown

As you will all be aware former Watford defender Clarke Carlisle, the man dubbed Britain’s Brainiest Footballer, appeared as a contestant on the popular Channel � show Countdown earlier this year.

What is not so well known is that Carlisle won the right to appear on the show by winning a qualifier against Adrian Boothroyd in an episode which was never televised.

Car l i s le eventual ly t r iumphed but only after the pair traded an impressive sequence of 9 letter words. The battle continued long after Carlisle was transferred to Burnley and only ended after Adrian Boothroyd failed to gain promotion back to the premier league.

Watford had led the Championship in October �00� but suffered a slump in form with a run of only 1 win in 1� games and were beaten by Hull City in the Play Offs. A season that started with so much promise ended in disappointment leaving supporters to ponder the countdown conundrum:

Marvin Monroe

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It’s all Pleat’s fault!No self-respecting edition of CYHSYF would be complete without stopping to take the piss out of that lot up the road, and in particular, their erstwhile manager, David Pleat.

As the scumbletons up the M1 contemplate yet another season as a NON-LEAGUE CLUB they may well be scratching their heads and wondering how such a laughable situation came about.It’s easy really – it’s all David Pleat’s fault. As he cavorted across the Maine Road turf like a shambolic, demented orangutan back in May 1983, few Luton fans could have guessed that this would be the beginning of their downfall and protracted slide down the divisions into NON-LEAGUE obscurity.Consider this: if Pleaty hadn’t managed to keep them up in 1983, they’d have just gone back to contentedly chugging along in the 2nd tier of the Football League, probably quite happy with their lot, and thinking, “Oh well, we gave it a shot and we’re just not quite good enough for the 1st Division.”But then they started getting ideas above their station. Despite the fact that their crappy ground made even Oxford’s old Manor Ground seem like stepping out at Wembley, they actually started to think that they were big time. This was not helped by a flukey Mickey Mouse Cup win over a very mediocre Arsenal side boasting the likes of Gus Caesar and Perry Groves.And so began their desperate struggle to hang onto the coat tails of the big boys. When relegation followed and the rest of the football world began to pass them by, taking much glee that the purveyors of plastic pitches and the banning of away fans were struggling, they embarked on an ever more desperate attempt to recapture their perceived former glories – culminating in ever more desperate managerial appointments and a vicious downward spiral of allegedly dubious accountancy practices that fell foul of League rules and earned them the hefty points deductions that were to finally put them out of their misery and condemn them to NON-LEAGUE status.So as they prepare to welcome the likes of Crawley Town and Eastbourne Borough to the hovel that is Kenilworth Road this season, maybe they might stop and think – It’s all bloody Pleat’s fault!!!!Luton Hoo Hoo

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The Youth of Today“You don’t win anything with kids”

“If you’re old enough you’re good enough”

“There’s no substitute for experience”

These are phrases that all football fans will be familiar with, each of them an often used part of every football pundit’s armory. Apart from being massively overused, these three phrases have one other theme in common. Youth.

It’s fair to say that not everything talked about in football circles is applicable to Watford. “Mackay’s biggest task will be to keep the string of Internationals that don’t make his first team happy…” is not a phrase you’ll be likely to hear any time soon. We don’t generally have to worry about resting players ahead of an exacting European campaign. Whether the 30 goal a season Italian World Cup star will chose Old Trafford or Vicarage Road is not an oft posed query. Questioning whether half of the squad have permission from their mothers to play, is perhaps more pertinent.

Whatever the rights and wrongs of Watford’s immediate history, we find ourselves heavily reliant on youth. Boys that we have signed, then trained and nurtured. Youngsters that you probably wouldn’t let into a 15 rated film, much less be allowed to buy a pint. This is no bad thing though. Bringing through youngsters? We’re pretty good at it you know.

As I write this, myself and the rest of the nation are counting down to England’s final World Cup game with Slovenia. Whilst the majority of the starting XI is unknown, the goalkeeper is already common knowledge. The man between the sticks for the big game? David James. Now almost 40 years old, James has played for some of the country’s biggest clubs. And Portsmouth.

I’m sure most of us don’t need reminding where DJ’s path to stardom began, but for those of you too young or too forgetful to recall, it was right here at Watford. A product of the Watford youth team, he played 98 times for the Hornets before leaving for Liverpool in a record breaking deal worth £1,000,000 in July 1992.

Whilst David James is approaching the end of his career (don’t tell him I said that!), Ashley Young is most definitely at the start of his. A more recent graduate from the Watford youth system, you would have had to have your head stuck in a large bucket of sand not to have noticed his meteoric rise. Unlucky not to feature in this summer’s World Cup, Ashley is a shining example and a fantastic illustration as to how seriously and how committed

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Footbal l Ground AnagramsWoody Windham challenges you to find as many as you can - answers on page 21

Watford are to progressing young talent.

For many, the quotes at the beginning of this piece are just words. Throw away remarks to fill time or space. Not for us. Not for Watford. Ahead of the new season we find our squad liberally sprinkled with graduates from our increasingly respected and recognised Academy. Marvin Sordell, Liam Henderson, Lee Hodson and Michael Bryan are sure to feature heavily this season and whilst a reliance on such young and inexperienced players could be cause for alarm at other clubs, it most certainly isn’t the case here.

We know that if a player comes through our system and appears on the Vicarage Road pitch in a yellow shirt, then age and experience really isn’t important. We know our system works. We know they’ll be good enough. Instead of approaching the season worried about our young squad and their ability to succeed, we approach it with both excitement and pride, safe in the knowledge that when it comes to bringing through youngsters, Watford do things right.

Multi million pound signings? No thanks. We make our own superstars here.

Come on you Horns!

Mike Parkin

DR D. FART-FOOLBAD TED RIMS FROGGOVT REACTANCESEND WARTSPOO, RIKS GONAD“AHA” WENT HITLERKAPUT PORNWARK POO-EDMOULINEXHAH, THREW SNOTSTAMPS A JERKTRAUMATISED SEMII MULTI-SHAFT DOGEEK! AIDS BUM-ROT

PremiershipTHONG TEASAAN ALARM BELLDIRTY TAFF ACID MUSICCOWARD ROARCOYING TURDALED PEEDANAL LORDEDFAT PORN KARTPARKLAND FROGSMUT-A-DICKFART SO LOUDA DUKE ADMITS JISMLOW LEAKPORN MATADORDIK RAPPERA HEROIN CARRUTHLESS KRAPMOTOR FURVIAGRA, ACE RODLUKEWARM SADIST

ChampionshipTWIN HEADNODAL DONORHOG HURLS BOILME OWED ANALAVIATOR PRICKHAVE TELLYUNDERCOAT

League 1

MAD PARKASROLLO SHATAGING LEGBLINKIN’ SAC

League 2

TORRID WANKHOLE

Non-League

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A bird’s eye view

Football is not really quite my thing but hey, at least I do understand most of the rules. I may not be able to recite statistics from matches over the years; in fact I can’t recite the players’ names in our local professional team – Watford FC - but surely that can’t be earth-shatteringly important? I know the name of the team, I know the name of the ground and I know what colours they wear. Personally I think that makes me something of an expert on the subject but for some reason Martin disagrees. I also know details such as “our” main goal-scorer is “the tall dark one with the lovely hairstyle” and that our goalkeeper is “tall, dark, with big hands and a lovely bottom”. Again, in my view, my descriptive abilities are perfectly adequate for any meaningful conversation about the sport.

Martin was rather insistent that Sandra and I accompany him to a football match in which he was taking part but neither of us really minded going. In fact I thought it could be quite entertaining seeing how far my husband would run before collapsing in a heap from exhaustion because, let’s face it, the only exercise he ever does is with his right arm. He’s either drinking with it or using the TV remote control with it. Well, okay, so he could be doing something else with it but let’s not go there…

For once the weather has been cheerful so at least our sporting hero didn’t have to slide about on wet turf and, as enthusiastic spectators, we didn’t have to wear our Wellington boots. I noticed that the support for both teams was quite scant (to say the least) so Sandra and I vowed that we’d do our best to imitate the sound of several thousand football supporters and to be fair we did our best. We must have succeeded in some way because the referee stopped the game twice to ask us politely if we’d mind making a little less noise.

We even made up our own chants which we were quite proud of considering we made them up on the spot. “We two girls are gonna bet that you can’t get it near our net!” I wasn’t too sure what Sandra was implying when she yelled “Go on, let’s have him!” but she apparently either wanted Martin to tackle someone back or she wanted to have spontaneous sex with the opposing player.

Sandra really got into the part of Loyal Supporter as she applauded wildly whenever my husband actually went the right way with the ball. After a while she did this even if he didn’t have the ball which kind of sums up what kind of game he had. We both cheered loudly when he jumped up to head the ball and actually connected with it. Maybe we should have waited a little while before going quite so mad because it turned out he didn’t exactly HEAD the ball, he more sort of NOSED it. He had to come off the pitch so that a nice man with a towel could stop the flow of blood.

It was a very minor wound so Martin was back playing football within a couple of minutes. I thought it

Frances Pipe writes on the joys of supporting her husband from the touchline while her mate keeps abreast of the latest goal celebrations.

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was a little ironic that, in his brief absence, his team actually scored. Twice.

When the referee blew his whistle and everyone came off the pitch I thought we’d be going home but no; apparently everyone has a rest for “half time” and they have to kick each other – umm, sorry, I mean they have to play more football – for another half an hour or so. Actually I knew that football was played in two sections but must merely have forgotten it in my excitement.

In the end, I’m rather pleased that we stayed because, although I have no idea how it happened, Martin actually ran with the ball towards the correct goal and absolutely belted it with his foot – and scored. Yes, Martin scored a goal. It takes some believing I know, but I can vouch that he did it. I can also vouch that Sandra’s celebration techniques were novel and, if the response from the players is a guide, much unexpected. She lifted her top, showed her breasts and ran along the touchline.

Cries of “Phwoar!” and “Go, lady, go!” and a number of less printable slogans wafted over the park and when everyone started looking at me – maybe expecting me to join in? – I went and hid. I am perfectly sure that Martin was very relieved that I did.

I watched the remainder of the match from the safety of the doorway of the little clubhouse and when Sandra eventually joined me (having put her breasts safely back within the confines of her pullover) we filled the urn to make tea and coffee for the guys.

Martin’s team had scored three “wonderful” goals (according to Martin) and their opponents had scored six lucky goals in return (also according to Martin). Every single guy was a perfect gentleman in the after-match analysis. Now when I say ‘analysis’ it seemed to me as an uninitiated observer of football that they hardly even mentioned the match but I was told by Martin later that it was all a part of the football experience. I didn’t doubt him for a minute.

The opposing team drifted off toward their cars leaving Martin’s team to bask in the glories of losing their football match. From their self-satisfied smiles and back-claps, you’d have thought they had won but I didn’t like to mention it; they all seemed so happy and I felt it wasn’t my place to spoil things.

Are all men like this do you think? Do all losing teams convince themselves that they won or were unlucky? And to think that guys have the temerity to suggest that WE are the gender who are difficult to comprehend.

Frances Pipe

Editor’s note: I can’t help thinking Sandra might like to try and help us shift some fanzines!

Ground anagrams - answersPremiership: Old Trafford, Stamford Bridge, Craven Cottage, St Andrews, Goodison Park, White Hart Lane, Upton Park, Ewood Park, Molineux, The Hawthorns, St James Park, Emirates Stadium, Stadium Of Light, Reebok StadiumChampionship: Ashton Gate, Bramall Lane, Cardiff City Stadium, Carrow Road, City Ground, Deepdale, Elland Road, Fratton Park, Glanford Park, Kc Stadium, Loftus Road, Madejski Stadium, Oakwell, Portman Road, Pride Park, Ricoh Arena, Selhurst Park, Turf Moor, Vicarage Road, Walkers StadiumLeague 1: Withdean, London Road, Hillsborough, Meadow Lane, Victoria Park, The Valley, Dean Court League 2: Adams Park, Roots Hall, Gigg Lane, Sincil Bank Non-League: Kenilworth Road (go to the bottom of the class if you didn’t get that one!)

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Poet’s Corner

If Watford tales to Watford tunes,Football and adventure, to be so bold,If stadium, homelands, and balloonsAnd legends and shirts of Gold,And all the old romance, retoldExactly in the bygone way,Can please, as me it please when oldThe wiser supporter of today:

So be it, and bring them on! If not,If studious offspring no longer crave,This hereditary appetite forgot,Blissett, or Barnes the brave,Or super stars who we gave a wave:So be it also! And may IAnd all Row O friends share the graveWhere these memories and creations lie!

With apologies to Robert Louis Stevenson: A twist on a sailor’s tale by Capt’n Toddy!

A Level AlexGuy Judge (and his wife Pauline) think Alex Inglethorpe would give Clarke Carlisle a run for his money on Countdown

Although I have supported Watford for over 50 years the closest I have been to any of the players was in the early 1990s when, together with my brother Andy, I sponsored Alex Inglethorpe’s kit. My father died during the summer of 1990 and we wanted to honour him by sponsoring a player’s kit. We agreed that we would like to sponsor the kit of a young player just coming into the first team squad from the youth team. When I contacted the club about this they offered me several alternatives, but when I heard that Alex Inglethorpe had an “A level” in economics (I teach economics!) that was enough to settle it. In the great scheme of things Alex’s career at Watford is just a bit of a footnote compared to the contributions of Luther Blissett, John Barnes, Nigel Callaghan, Tommy Mooney, Nigel Gibbs and others. According to www.soccerbase.com he only made two starts and 10 substitute appearances in league games. But he did score a goal against Luton! Alex has gone on to have a decent career in coaching (and briefly in management). And I shall always remember him as the Watford player who wrote poetry.

As kit sponsors Andy and I were eligible to attend the annual dinner with the players. For some reason Andy couldn’t go and so my wife Pauline came with me instead. She has never really understood my football fixation; I have got her into Vicarage Road on a couple of occasions, but only to see Elton John. However, the dinner appealed to her and so it was that she found herself sitting next to Alex Inglethorpe. I was the other side of her and actually quite close to Gary Porter and his entourage who were in cracking form all night. As the evening went on I could see that Pauline and Alex were getting on very well to-gether, talking quietly to each other - just the two of them. On our way home Pauline, who for many years taught English Language and Literature, told me that she couldn’t believe what a well read man Alex had turned out to be (not what she had expected of a footballer at all). It turned out that he had an “A level” in English as well as Economics, and that he enjoyed writing poetry (“But please don’t let the other players find out as they will be merciless towards me”). Alex was also to receive the “I could easily run off with him” accolade from my wife (something I get to hear every now and then when she meets a nice young man!). Needless to say she didn’t come with me to the dinner the following year!

Alex Inglethorpe:He’s a poet, but

not many know it

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The Luther Blissett ProjectBack in 1994 a bloody weird phenomenon occurred that had it’s catalyst in Italy. Poems were written, pictures were painted, shows were performed and a myriad of other strange and wonderful things came to public attention – all done by Luther Blissett.

If only the great man could claim the credit for all this work he’d be wealthy but in truth he was as surprised as anyone by amount of work done in his name.

These things all started in Italy but were soon being recorded from all over Europe and even spread to South America. In fact the South American prose, a novel called simply “Q”, even became a bestseller!!

Soon there were underground reviews and even media hoaxes all being written by “Luther” and nobody was more baffled than everyone’s favourite Hornet who actually had bugger-all to do with any of these compositions.

These hoaxes were not the basic humour favoured by today’s comedians – in fact far, far from it! Some were well-written essays on subjects such as ‘Warfare in Venice’ and even ‘AIDS’. Okay so there was not an ounce of fact or any real scientific research in any of these written pieces but they became so prolofic that the world’s media simply had to pay attention.

So why did all these ‘authors’ pick on our Loofa?? The vague and somewhat strange answer is that he played for AC Milan for a season and the local underground movement picked his name out of the hat.

Then articles appeared, entitled ‘Pedophilia is no child’s play’ and ‘Mind-Benders’ and maybe Luther’s sense of humour started to feel the strain!

In 2004 Luther appeared on British national television jokingly saying that he was now going to take an active part in the Luther Blissett Project in which “anyone can be Luther Blissett simply by adopting the name Luther Blissett”.

I’m going to join the Project myself.

(article written for Clap Your Hands, Stamp Your Feet by Luther Blissett)

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09:00 Bargain Hunt – Malky looks around the lower leagues for players within Watford’s budget.10:00 The Jeremy Kyle Show – The Luton fans of the week discuss life in the Blue Square Conference.11:30 Malcolm In The Middle – With the Golden Boys hitting a rich vein of form and in touching distance of the play offs Malcolm expresses his disappointment as a row between the shareholders threatens to disrupt his progress. (Subtitles Available).13:00 Deal Or No Deal – Watford and Carlisle haggle over a compensation figure for Watford’s latest recruit. 14:00 Relocation Relocation Relocation – Marlon King looks to swap his million pound Cheshire mansion for an 8x6 “studio” flat with en suite facilities.15:25 Who Do You Think You Are? – A look at the career highlights of David Connolly since he left Watford.15:30 Gardeners World – An investigation into the state of the Vicarage Road pitch seeks to uncover the reason behind its poor condition considering the amount of s**t on it every other Saturday.16:30 You’ve Been Framed – Marlon King’s luck changes as he is given £250 for featuring in a CCTV clip. This is significantly more than the going rate for sewing mailbags.17:30 The Weakest Link – Defensive duo John Terry and Matthew Upson ensure that England are eliminated early from the World Cup – Goodbye!18:15 The Simpsons – A look behind the scenes as Homer achieves his dream of running a Premier League Football Club for a season.19:00 Grand Designs – A look back at Watford’s initial plans for an ambitious redevelopment of the Main Stand including the now infamous G spot.20:00 Dragons Den – Following the success of his Baseball Cap business former Watford Goalkeeper Richard Lee returns to the den seeking £150,000 for 25% of his new company which produces a gadget to help him pick the ball out the net without bending over.21:30 Question Time – This week’s questions include; What does ring-fencing actually mean?, What’s the Council Tax banding on the flats behind the Rookery?, Where’s the Watford Observer Clock?, What happened to David Connelly?, and Damian Francis, Why? 23:00 The Football League Show – Following a promising start to the season Watford are sucked into a relegation battle but manage to escape at the death (Repeat).Marvin Monroe

WFC TVTurn on,Tune in,Doze off

1 You’re scrapping against relegation and are home to the league leaders.

2 You proceed to play them off the park and all their ‘big names’ disappear up their own jacksies.

To you, to me, to you…

Oi! Can we have a kick now please?

3 Super Dan puts you 1 up with an absolute belter, 5 minutes to go – 3 points in the bag surely!

bottom corner

bloody long way

Rookery goes mental

Get f***ingin!

West Brom at Home

4 Into the 5th and last minute of injury and they still haven’t had a sniff. Then you leave one of their blokes totally unmarked at the back stick.

5 The match finishes 1-1 leaving you clinging on to survival by your fingernails. Oh and your player of the season has also been badly injured.

Oh bugger! Boing Boing!

Super Dan

Loachy

Do I not like that!

Baws! Crivvens! Jings! Help m’Boab!

Malky

It must be Christmas We can still do it!

Learn to Play the Watford Way

Yes it’s back!!!!

Baggy bloke

��John Wood

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Imagine being back in 1963, and somehow being able to pick up news from a satellite (perhaps from the Telstar launched in 1962), that could beam you reports from all over the world. The winter of 1963/1964 was one of the worst on record since about the time of the last ice-age and if you believe the popular press, Britain didn’t grind to a halt in the way the country does today. Strangely, I seem to recall that two years earlier I was a six-year-old lad walking to school with my mum through snow-drifts that were taller than me but it seems that the 63/64 winter is more memorable than that of 61/62. However, I digress. President Kennedy was stating his intention of providing NASA with the resources to land a man on the moon ‘before the decade is out’ but soon the world was in shock by the assassination of JFK in November 63 and the subsequent inauguration of Lyndon B Johnson. Britain had a change of leadership as well as Alec Douglas Home took over from ‘SuperMac’ Harold MacMillan. Wars were taking place all over the planet. The Vietnam War was in it’s infancy, there was the civil war taking place in Cyprus between the Turks and the Greeks and in Africa, Algeria and Morocco were having a bit of a barney. The Beatles were trying their best to soothe everyone’s troubled brow with hits such as All My Loving, Can’t Buy Me Love and Hard Days Night. Focusing on a medium-size town in Hertfordshire, we could see how things are going for the local football club – Watford FC. They are being managed by Bill McGarry who, it subsequently turned out, would only be in charge of the club for this one full season – but it was a fairly interesting season to say the least.The Hornets changed their kit to a gold top and black shorts and, for the very first time, the Golden Boys ran out onto the pitch to the accompanying music from the Z-Cars television series (which was McGarry’s favourite TV show at the time). Somewhere on the terraces in 1963 was a young would-be sports reporter called Oliver Phillips who was covering a Watford first team game for the first time. I wonder what ever became of him?Duncan Welbourne joined the club and the goalkeeper, Pat Jennings, left to join Spurs. I wonder what became of him too? The programme would set you back a tanner (6d – or two-and-a-half pence in ‘new’ money) and the front cover had the familiar logo of a hornet emblazoned upon it. The logo was to meta-morph through the years into a spiteful looking critter with a pointy nose and evil glare, before calming down and ultimately coming to life as the friendly, fluffy Harry

The Hornets have landedMartin Pipe recalls the pivotal 1963/1964 season, which would see the birth of the Golden Boys, Z-Cars, and the emergence of a certain Oli Phillips

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Which is the most annoying?

orAdrian Chiles A VuvuzelaBoth make an irritating noise and should have been banned from the World Cup.But the vuvuzela is probably better to look at and at least you can stuff a sock in it.So the clear winner is: Adrian Chiles!

Hornet of today. Watford finished the season in third place of Division Three, behind promoted teams Coventry and Crystal Palace. That Palace side starred a certain centre forward called Cliff Holton; yep, the same Mr Holton who used to regularly knock in the goals for Watford FC. Actually Watford had the chance to be promoted along with Coventry if only they had won their final match of the season against L*t*n but alas that game ended in a 2-1 defeat for our heroes. I suppose this took the gloss from one statistic that was quite impressive and this was Watford’s incredible run of 29 home matches unbeaten.Both promoted sides finished on 60 points while third-placed Watford had 58. Remember that there were ‘only’ two points for a win back then and teams on points-parity were separated by ‘goal aggregate’ rather than ‘goal difference’ and you needed a science degree in Higher Mathematics to try to work out the respective goal averages. Pocket calculators were still a decade away from being invented.A team called Workington won promotion from Division Four to Division Three this season and their manager was a young man called Ken Furphy. When Bill McGarry left the Hornets to take over at Ipswich, Furphy was signed up as his replacement who promptly stated his aim to take Watford up to Division Two. Before the decade was out, JFK’s commitment to land a man on the moon came to fruition and exactly the same can be said of Ken Furphy’s commitment to take Watford to the second tier of English football for the very first time.And Oliver Phillips was still on the same terraces, reporting the events.

Martin Pipe

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Ed Messenger (since 1951) reflects on Watford’s first competitive overseas foray

Hands up who went to Kaiserslautern? I could not afford it and wished ever since that I went without food for a few days to pay for it. However, I went to Watford’s first competitive match in Europe. Yes fans, over the ferry to the Isle of Wight. A train from Watford to Portsmouth and over the sea to another train to Newport to take in an FA Cup first round match in November 1956. Newport (I.o.W) 0 Watford �.

It was a typical November afternoon, dark, drizzle and generally speaking a day to stay at home in the warm. The good old Watford Observer went to great trouble to tell us that Newport had the son of a former Portsmouth legend, Bobby Gilfillan. He scored goals in every game in the Hampshire League, where they played at that time. Oh yes as a gullible 15 year old I was almost sold on the fact that he was going to take us to pieces.

Memories of that day long ago are sketchy to say the least. Three things I recall readily were the wind in our faces. Our picture was in the Watford Observer the following Friday on the ferry. A group huddled up in our coats against that wind. Secondly and thirdly are my only clear memories of the match. Bobby Gilfillan had not inherited much from his father and hardly got a kick. Then there was the sixth goal. I cheered, as one was wont to do when we scored (and still do actually). In those far off days, when segregation was not a word involved in football, an elderly gentleman who was standing beside me said “Have a heart mate”. Ever since that day, I always feel for the other team when I see such a result. After all, that old fellow had been waiting for his team’s big day ever since the 4th Qualifier win.

With that thought in my mind we trekked all the way back to Watford by train and boat (but no Plane!). Watford’s first competitive game in Europe.

Watford go into Europe

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Just text Jose“Dear Jose,I have just taken my first role as Youth Team Coach at a very successful club. I am in awe at the current First Team Manager, how is the best way to rise up the coaching ladder at the club?”BR – Stamford Bridge

Jose writes:“Ah my young apprentice , If you are working under a bit of a legend you should integrate yourself closely with him, spend time observing his methods and incorporate these into your own training ideals. Remember imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and you cannot fail to become noticed if you copy the man at the top. Good luck!!”

“Dear Jose,I have reached my dream of managing a football club, but results are not going my way at the moment and I am using the fancy system that worked when I coached some world class reserves at my previous job. Should I stick rigidly to my beliefs and tactics or take notice of an angry Scotsman who’s pissed that I messed up his squad and change back to playing 4-4-2?”BR – Watford

Jose writes:“You must learn not to over stretch your team’s skills and use a formation that built on its strengths and not on its weakness’s. I would listen to your angry colleague and return to a formation more suited to the league you are in. If that fails, I suggest buying a big watch... all successful people have big watches”

“Dear Jose,I am in a very happy, stable relationship, but someone I have loved for a long time has suddenly become available. I cannot stop thinking about them... what should I do?”BR – Hertfordshire

Jose writes:“This is simple, you must always follow your heart. It’s probably best to try and test the water with your true love before you break up with your current partner. But remember the golden rule and lie through your teeth if ever you get caught out. Even if the evidence is as clear as glass, deny everything and make them feel bad for even questioning your integrity”

“Dear Jose,I’ve been dumped by the love of my life? How do I pick up the pieces and start again?”BR – Reading

“Dear Jose,Hello Jose?... are you there?........hello?”BR – Swansea

Martin Pollard

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Twelve years ago, as a teenager, I cut my literary teeth penning a few articles for CYHSYF. If you remember them, then you’ll not be surprised to learn that this was not only the beginning of my writing career, but also the end of it. However, I hope that my lack of talent was more than made up for by my enthusiasm; at this time in my life I ate and slept Watford FC. I had a pre-school paper round, and a post-school warehouse job, so that I had enough money (and importantly free Saturday afternoons) to follow the Horns across the country. In 1999, when I should have been studying hard for my A-Levels I completed a life long ambition of attending a complete season of games, home and away, I met God who told me we’d go up, I saw us win at Wembley dyeing my hair yellow for the occasion and nearly got myself suspended from school for bunking off with a friend to drive up to St. Andrews for the play off semi-final.

Then all of a sudden it was gone. I packed up my bags and headed for Bristol to study at University, where the distraction of football was replaced by the distraction of cheap beer and girls. Suddenly, physical distance and a pitiful student loan meant I was restricted to a handful of games - in our first Premiership season. It was heartbreaking, but I wore my shirt (signed by God) with pride around campus and watched MotD each Saturday night with a near religious devotion. However, relegation followed and less press coverage of Watford cut me off a little further. I went on to study for a postgraduate degree in 2003 and by the time I’d graduated and moved to Bath for my “settled, grown-up” life in 2006, I’d only been to a dozen Watford games in three years.

Things were different; my life had changed in a way I didn’t think would be possible ten years previously. Watford Football Club was no longer my life. If you’re 18 and reading this now, I hate to tell you, but it will almost certainly happen to you too. Watford was still the first club I looked for in the results, but on occasions it was Sunday afternoon or even Monday morning before I checked! Obviously living away from Watford had been the primary reason for my waning love, but I think football had changed, and to be honest I’d stopped loving football. Even England games weren’t doing it for me. I don’t know if it was the money, both that charged to fans, and that paid to players; the blanket over-the-top media coverage; or my increased cynicism, but football just wasn’t doing it for me.

Then one Saturday afternoon in August 2008, I was listening to the radio, and suddenly felt all nostalgic for the start of the football season. I felt there was something missing from my life. Why wasn’t I travelling across the country to go and see the football? I couldn’t afford to see Watford, but thought I’d walk across the city to Twerton Park and see my local team in action. I think that first afternoon I wasn’t even sure who was playing – Team “Tax” Bath (may they rot in hell1) were at this time tenants at their rivals Bath City, so I knew there would be a game of some sort on – or indeed which division football I would be watching. On that sunny

The View fromTwerton ParkWhat have The Romans ever done for me? Bill Wilkinson waxes lyrical about falling in love with football again, and seeing a few old faces down his ‘local’

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afternoon I was one of a crowd of 623 who witnessed Bath City lose 0-4 at home to Welling United in the Blue Square South. With the exception of the dozen or so Welling fans I must have been the only person to walk away from Twerton Park with a smile on my face. I was in love again; maybe not with Bath City. Not yet anyway. But certainly in love with football again; this was proper football. No-one in the stadium that day, not one of the players, coaches, officials, fans, stewards or kiosk attendants was there for the money. They were all there because they love football, and their enthusiasm was infectious.

And I returned a couple of weeks later, and again a month after that, gradually I became hooked. Ok, the football is not pretty, but is of a surprisingly high standard – the players are very fit and largely try to play a passing game – but there can be some highly comical defending. But there are some other amazing benefits of watching football at this level. The full match-day experience will leave you with change from £20 in your pocket; you can have a pint (in a pint glass) in the clubhouse before the game, and if you return for a pint after the game then you will be mingling with the players as they arrive from the changing rooms to refuel with chicken wings, chips and pints of coke. At half time the supporter’s club tea-bar sells a coffee and a mars bar for £1, for both, not each. You can change ends at half time so you are always standing behind the goal your team are attacking, oh and you can stand – an absolute joy, after years of watching football in all-seater stadia.

In that first season, Bath had a mediocre season, falling away in the final third of the season and finishing 9th. However, last season, when now I was attending the majority of home games (and even two away games) they looked to be falling away again, only to come good in the end, make the play-offs and get promoted to the top flight of non-league football. “We are Premier League” we ironically sang as we celebrated on the pitch following the 1-0 defeat of Woking in the play-off final. Anyway, I digress, I should bring this back to some relevance to a Watford fanzine, let me lead you through some of the familiar faces to you, that have visited Twerton Park over the last twelve months:

The first ex-horn to face the Romans was Jamie Hand who played for Chelmsford on the opening day of the season. In a bizarre game Chelmsford were 4-0 up inside half an hour, with on-loan Bath keeper Will Puddy having a nightmare debut; however he saved a penalty to stop Chelmsford going 5-0 up, before a remarkable fightback saw the Bath nearly snatch a point with the game finishing 4-3. Jamie played the first ten Chelmsford games of the season before moving on to eventual playoff finalists Woking. He would not have such a happy time against Bath a second time, being on the end of a 5-0 thrashing, the first of 3 defeats Woking would suffer at the hands of Bath. Jamie would not play in the other two, moving on to Zamaretto Premier League side Hemel Hempstead Town.

A week after the visit of Woking, Dean Holdsworth brought his high-flying Newport County side to Twerton Park. Even at this early stage of the season Newport were miles clear, and would go on to win the league at a canter with 103 points, so a 1-1 draw in a hard-fought local aggro match was an excellent point. Newport are a club on the rise, for those who don’t remember, they are a former league club and reached the quarter-final of the European Cup Winners Cup in 19812 (Qualifying through the Welsh Cup). They went bust in 1989, and have since been rebuilding the club in a process which has often been turbulent – 3 seasons had to be played in Gloucestershire to avoid being coerced into the Welsh league by the Welsh FA. Having secured promotion, Holdsworth will this season face his brother David, who is manager of Conference National side Mansfield, surely the first time twin brothers have faced each other as opposing managers.

Three more Watford legends would bring their sides to Twerton Park throughout the season; Andy Hessenthaler brought his fancied Dover side to Bath in February and went away with a point, but his side would eventually miss out on the playoffs and Hessenthaler would move back to Gillingham. Alan Devonshire is another who is making a name for himself in non-league management, he has guided Hampton & Richmond to two promotions and finished the 2008-09 season in the Conference South playoffs. Hampton had started the 09-10 season well, but were unable to repeat their success, eventually finishing 14th, despite taking maximum points over the season from Bath City. Finally, Barry Ashby is assistant manager at Welling United, where I went on my first Bath City away game, and saw my adopted team take all the points winning 2-0 at Park View Road. The season run-in also saw the appearance of former Watford trainee Elliott Godfrey at Twerton Park in a Staines shirt. On loan from AFC Wimbledon he was unable to get on the scoresheet as Bath got the 3 points which got them into the playoff places with 3 games to go. They wouldn’t look back from there, avenging their opening day defeat by beating Chelmsford over two legs in the semi final and beating Woking for the third time during the season in front of 4,800 fans at Twerton Park in the final.

So this season Bath play at national level for the first time in 14 years, and will remain part-time (with an expanded squad of just 19 players) in a league which is increasingly full of full-time professional clubs. Bath will have their work cut out to stay in the division against the relative spending power of the likes of Grimsby, York, Cambridge, Darlington and of course L*t*n, a game I look forward to immensely. Bath’s place in the Conference South has been taken by Boreham Wood, promoted from the Ryman Premier playoffs despite a “fan” walking onto the pitch and assaulting a Kingstonian defender during the final. Disgracefully the FA took no action against Boreham Wood and they take their place in the Conference South for the first time, alongside another local side St. Albans.

There are plenty of other non-league clubs in the local area and if you’re feeling a bit disconnected from our beautiful game, or are simply at a loose end on a Saturday afternoon, I can’t recommend highly enough taking in a non-league game. You’ll be welcomed with open arms, you’ll not be charged a fortune to get in, and you’ll watch 22 players who dedicate their spare time to the beautiful game in exchange for less than most of us would spend on a weekend away following Watford. Standing in a traditional football ground you’ll remember what football is supposed to be about and be reminded what’s wrong with (and what’s right with) the top of the game. And next Saturday 4th September, is national Non-League Day. England are playing on the Friday night, no Championship or Premiership games, so you’ll have a free Saturday. Don’t let the girlfriend take you shopping, head to your local non-league side. Go and support football, you might be pleasantly surprised. But if not next week, then whenever, they’ll still be there, because they love football.

kfc-kid, (though I’m more of “tofu-man” these days).1 Team Bath, the darlings of the BBC FA Cup coverage, due to nostalgic notions of bygone student teams were actually a bunch of cheats. Funded by University cash, they were set up with the theoretically admirable aim of educating players who had been released by professional clubs, allowing them to play in the lower leagues with the possibility of being picked up and having a second crack at Professional football. In reality they were paying large transfer fees (by non-league standards where any fee is almost unheard of) for experienced non-league players, and also paid large salaries by the standards of the league. This was funded off attendances of around 100, though away fans often disputed these exaggerated figures. In 2009 The Football League, and the Conference decided the funding model was not fair and announced Team Bath would not be allowed promotion to the league or conference national. At which point the team folded.2 Where one Gary Plumley played in goal in front of 18,000 baying Welshmen, so let’s not put his piss-poor performance at Villa Park down to inexperience.3 Photos taken by the Yuffie, a Bath City supporter who takes all the photos and runs the club website.

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There’s no such thing as home advantage.There, I’ve said it, and now I feel like that kid in the fairy story who notices that the emperor is parading around in his birthday suit. But can I really be the only person to have questioned the assumption that it’s somehow easier for the home team to win a game of football than it is for the away team?I can tell you’re going take some convincing, so let’s run through the factors generally viewed as contributing to the phenomenon of home advantage:The pitchI’m sure there are plenty of park pitches where there’s a genuine advantage to be gained by knowing, say, that there’s a large pothole over by the corner flag that’s never been properly filled in, or that one side of the pitch is liable to turn into the Somme after five minutes of light drizzle.But at the professional level, pitches are much of a muchness, generally well tended and flat. Ever where there are local variations, it’s hard to see how this gives an advantage to the home team. Take Vicarage Road. Does playing on a boggy quagmire once a fortnight during the winter months help the Hornets? I rest my case.The groundWe’ve all heard about the dastardly ruses teams employ to cause their visitors maximum discomfort: ‘forgetting’ to turn the hot water on in the away dressing room, neglecting to mend the wonky leg on the massage table and so on.Maybe this really does have an effect. But you’d have to hope that professional sportsmen, with all the expensive training and psychological conditioning they receive, can rise above the trauma of having to wait a bit longer than usual for their pre-match massage.The travellingOn the face of it, this is more plausible. We all know what it’s like sitting on a coach for three hours, and it’s easy to imagine that by the time you get off, the last thing you feel like doing is playing a game of football against a bunch of players who’ve just strolled over to the ground from their nearby homes.But that’s not how it works, is it? For one thing, players don’t live locally any more. To give just one example, during his playing days, Alec Chamberlain lived in Northampton – so when

The Myth of Home AdvantageTim Turner has been thinking about one of football’s most cherished clichés, and he’s come to a startling conclusion

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we played Luton* at Vicarage Road, he had to travel further to get there than they did. Did he therefore forfeit home advantage on an individual basis? It’s a nonsense.The idea that travelling in itself puts you at a disadvantage would be more acceptable if it wasn’t assumed to apply equally across the board. When Liverpool play Everton, they can get there by ambling across Stanley Park if they want. Dundee and Dundee United are famously sited on the same street, and it’s not that long. So why is the away team at a disadvantage in that fixture?The crowdAh yes, the famous ‘12th man’, the passionate home crowd that can spur on a team to great heights. And I don’t doubt that this is true, sometimes at least.But shouldn’t that logically mean that the clubs with the loudest, most fanatical supporters ought to win everything? Clubs like Newcastle, Man City, Sunderland, Wolves... By the same token, the grounds where the singing is occasional and tentative ought to offer easy points to the visitors – grounds like the Emirates and Old Trafford, for example.So the idea that having the home crowd on your side gives you an automatic advantage is plainly tosh. Again, look at Vicarage Road. Yes, we can make a bit of noise when the mood takes us, but I don’t believe that any footballer ever looks at the fixture list and shudders at the thought of having to play in front of the naked aggression of the Upper Rous.Above all, it’s hard to take the concept of home advantage seriously when it’s applied so indiscriminately. If someone came up with a formula that took into account the distance the away team had to travel, the average decibel level generated by the home crowd and other factors, and then calculated the home advantage as a percentage, say, then I might be prepared to accept it.Now I know what you’re going to say: if there’s no such thing as home advantage, why are there more home wins than away wins most weeks? The answer brings us to the crux of the problem, and the reason that it matters: tactics.The myth of home advantage relieves managers of the stress of having to think too much. If you’re at home, you know you’re expected to win, so you line up in an attacking formation and batter the opposition until they concede. If you’re away, you play defensively, avoid taking risks and hope you might snatch a goal on the break. The reason there are more home wins is that most away teams’ defences simply aren’t good enough to withstand the pressure they’re put under.In an ideal world, I’d take one of those memory-wiping devices Will Smith used in ‘Men In Black’ and use it on every footballer and every manager to rid them of the notion that there is any such thing as home advantage. Then they’d be forced to approach every match on its own merits – work out how to neutralise the opposition’s best players and devise a system that allowed their own to shine.For proof of how this can work in practice, think back to the 2006 Championship Play-Off Final. On neutral territory in Cardiff, Aidy Boothroyd went toe-to-toe with Kevin Blackwell, and only one of them got their tactics right. Imagine how much more fun football would be if you could turn up every week and have no idea how each team was going to play.

*Come on, you must remember them. They’re a non-league club now, but they used to be quite big...

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Who remembers the 1-0 cup win over Scunthorpe in January 2009? Not that long ago, was it? Who scored*? A quick Google turns up the Daily Mail’s summary: “An uninspiring third-round FA Cup tie at Vicarage Road saw Watford battle to a 1-0 victory”. I do remember it was a dull match. Except for the Alexis I Dupont Marching Band from Delaware, en route to Obama’s inauguration, who set the place on fire (only metaphorically, you understand) in the closing stages when they, otherwise bored to tears, started a bit of a party in the Lower Rous. Boy was that ever fun! If you were there then you were probably, like me, watching the band rather than the match. And you remember the lift that it gave the whole stadium. One of the highlights of previous seasons for our kids, when they still came to matches with us, was the visits of Sheffield Wednesday and their band. Playing at all their matches, home and away, from the early 1990s until 2005, they created an atmosphere and spurred their supporters into song. Back closer to home, we recently had the drummer in the Rookery who made a huge difference to the vocal support.

But he (she?) has disappeared in the last year or so, with an occasional deputy every couple of months. I reckon the atmosphere has suffered without him/her. Towards the end of last season, when we were deep in the mire, Harry was immense in whipping up the faithful, popping up all over the place with that drum. Vicarage Road is renowned for its respectful crowds – and, yes, that’s a euphemism for quiet. Personally I’m hoping that we don’t have an influx of vuvuzelas which only drown out anything more artistic. But a brass band? Hmmm… maybe… I know of at least one other fan who plays trombone. I play trumpet a bit … that seems like a good start. So what d’you reckon? Should we have a band? Do you want to play? If we get a decent core together, who knows? If you fancy it, and you play something suitable then get in touch through CYHSYF. It would be a lot of fun. *Rasiak. The game was more notable for the debut of Jack Cork.

A Brass NeckHamish Currie hopes he won’t be the only one jumping on the bandwagon and blowing his own trumpet at the Vic. Over to you readers...

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Memories

For many years my friends and I have stood and watched the great and the good, the bad and the ugly play before us. Things have changed since my first match - notably the blue and white stripes long gone and replaced the beloved yellow of today. But sometimes, when the rain lashes down on a cold winter’s evening and I’m here all alone I can still remember the open terraces with their railway sleeper banking and dog track in front.

I could tell you many a tale of heroes feted, legends born, enemies made over the years. I’ve seen it all - the wonder of Barnes and Blissett, Scully’s goal against Stockport, the goal that never was, Cliff Holton, those magical European nights, Endean’s header against Liverpool, the thousands squeezed in on all sides in the cup against Man Utd. Yep, believe me when I say I’ve seen it all unfold in front of me and haven’t missed a home match in years.

For generations I have shared every heart beat of the club, witnessed every row, every heated exchange both on and off the pitch. I have seen managers come (many who loved the club dearly) and go (many who couldn’t get out the door quick enough), but all have played their part for good or ill in forming my memories.

It is not the same these days since my closest friends left me. I used to be the main man in town. People would come to me for shelter, and respite. The rich and famous would join me and share a drink and a joke both in good times and bad. But my friends have all moved on. New friends have come, but it is never the same. Youngsters don’t have the time these

days. There is no warmth in my new friends, not like the past when there was character and atmosphere and you could feel the passion in the crowd - especially at night. Ah the tales of magical nights under the lights at Vicarage Road. Did I tell you I helped fit the first lights at the ground? Banks of what could be described as giant car head lamps down the sides of the pitch. In time they went too, but it was a real novelty at first.

I know my time is coming. I’ve had a few scares in recent years and, to be honest, I never thought I’d still be here today. I hardly get visitors any more. I used to love visitors - the old and the young would embrace the history, the smell of tobacco, the fading of past eras. Warm memories still remain - like the joyous celebration on the night we beat Wrexham to gain promotion and everyone gathered round me. Mind you that was in sharp contrast to a few years previously when the fans mobbed and bundled all over me in protest at the board.

Believe me I have seen a lot and I have always kept an eye on things when you’re not there. I know I shan’t be long for the waiting now. They are removing my hat so to speak so I shall stand exposed in all weathers - just like my friends were in the past. I suspect some time soon I shall be replaced with concrete and plastic and no uprights to block the view, and when they do spare a thought for the old East Stand. I doubt my replacement will ever see such history. Chris Lawton

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