CYCM 28/01/17: 1992-1993: The Perch Knocker Offerers
If you’ve ever lost a ridiculously daft amount of your life to following a football team, you should know by now that seasons normally fall into three categories:
1. Those that leave a lasting mark on you, with moments of wonder not only indelibly inked into the history books, but also that part of your limbic system (it’s in your noggin) where only true happiness is allowed to reside
2. Seasons that are as ‘meh’ as a cup of tea where you’ve not left the bag in long enough, and though you decide to see it through, you’re just counting down the slurps until it’s over
3. Snide seasons that unfairly induce kipper levels of giddiness. They may proclaim brazen boasts of glory, but end up going so sickeningly belly up, you’re left sobbing into the unending darkness of the night, until you realise you’ve got work in the morning and you should probably get some sleep
The seasons of 1992-1993 and 1993-1994, with all their upturned collar, counter-attacking, Gallic swagger, fall firmly into the first category. 1988-89, with a paltry 23,368 at home to Wimbledon falls into the second category (though the New Year’s Day comeback and subsequent spanking of Liverpool gets a special mention). And as for the third category, well, 1994-1995 walks away with that dubious honour without anyone else getting a look in.
Where to start with that Neil Webb’s waistline of a season? Well, its main problem was that all the magic it promised had actually been hogged by the previous two seasons. A first league title in twenty-six years, the club’s first ever double, number one in the charts with Status Quo; those heady days gave way to West Ham on the last day of the season, Matthew Simmons’ jacket, and a right royal seeing to by Barcelona. So as horrible as the 94-95 season ended up being, perhaps we should actually give the poor bugger a break. Its entire cache of thaumaturgy had been nicked by the previous two seasons and well and truly extinguished. It never stood a chance. Which is a similar situation Saturday 11/02/17 finds itself in, as it has the unenviable task of following up two magic-infused Saturdays in a row, courtesy of Course You Can Malcolm.
Yes, you did indeed read that right: two Malcolms in a row (we’re flipping bonkers, I know). Saturday 28/01 against Salford City is our 92-93, with the 04/02 against Salzsburg being our 93-94. So briefly spare a thought for the following Saturday against Chorley, but make sure it is only brief, because you might start having nightmares over Paul Rideout, or Hristo Stoichkov and Romario leading a dazed and confused defence on a merry dance. And no-one wants that (Also, this doesn’t mean the following week will then represent the 1995-1996 season, as the whole analogy falls flat on its arse at that point).
Anyway, enough looking back to the early nineties, with all its baggy panted, floppy haired nonsense. It’s time to tear ourselves away from dewy-eyed nostalgia, thrust our faces firmly towards the future like the modern go-getters we are, and see what Saturday number one has in store:
10:00 The Oddies have to be up and out to arrive at a ridiculously early time, prompting questions about the state they’ve left their beds in. In reality at least 65% of them will be there to set up. The other 35% will go all quiet when asked about their personal hygiene in the bedroom
11:00 Doors open, and you’re going to need to get here sharpish. We’re not just saying that to panic you into coming early, but out of genuine concern you’ll be left kicking your heels outside with only post-Peter Lim Salford City fans for company
11:22 Rubbing it Red – see below
12:07 45 minutes later, the bar opens, and our radge-tastic support breathes a huge sigh of relief
1:00 Pam and Sarah from The Hummingbird Project – see below
1:30 Charlotte Delaney – See below
2:00 Cabbage – Disappointing menu option or as far-from-disappointing-as-you-can-possibly-get Manchester band? Read on….
3:00 Soz, you’ve got to go and watch the football at this point. Look, it’s not our fault you decided you wanted to own your football club now, is it?
Rubbing it Red
You may remember ‘The 8:15 from Manchester’. You may not (for some reason I don’t and I was eight, nearly nine when it was first broadcast, so you’d think I would, but there you go). Either way, we’re bringing ‘The 11:22 from Manchester’ to Broadhurst Park, and starting at some time after 11:21, and before 11:23. Sticking with the theme of facing forward, this is the simple yet beautiful premise of ‘Rubbing it Red’. There’s no need to re-visit the troubles the club has had in the last few years, but this is all about washing that bitter taste out of our collective mouths, spitting it down the sink and letting the fresh, minty taste of positivity take its place. With everybody’s favourite barmpot Barmy Mike MC-ing (though for this we’re renaming him Balmy Mic as his dulcet tones will sooth us all), we’re going to have a group of 22 Reds and assorted good folk for whom FC has played a part in their lives. They’ll be talking about the club, answering questions or even doing one of those Irish jigs if it so pleases them. Essentially whatever they feel like, but it’s all based around happiness, the love for their club and moving onwards and upwards. There’ll be fanzine representatives from Red Issue, Under The Boardwalk, A Fine Lung and Mudhutters Media, communications folk from the club, various supporters from an assortment of groups, overseas exiles, ne’er do wells, and maybe even the odd journalist.
Because the beauty of our club lies in the fact not one single person is bigger or more important than the other, all the speakers will be stood by, in front and behind the bar rather than on a stage. Not one person looking down on others, not one voice louder than the others. Except there’ll probably be one voice quieter as you always get that one person who holds the mic too far away from their mouth. Always. Either way, you’re all welcome to listen, ask questions, discuss and above all, give yourself over completely to the warm, Red, Mancunian embrace on offer.
The Hummingbird Project
For those who don’t know, this is Buxton-based The Hummingbird Project in their own words:
“The Hummingbird project was set up by myself (Pamela Meade Lake) and Jo Gregory in order to raise awareness of the recent refugee crisis in Europe and beyond. We have harnessed the good will of people in the High Peak and South Manchester who help us to help refugees.
Our aim is to raise funds and collect donations to send much needed aid to refugee hot spots across Europe and Syria. We have sent aid to Syria, Macedonia, Lesvos, Leros, Chios, and Samos and to Athens. We support women and children in camps in Turkey and also have sent aid to Calais, Dunkirk and Paris.
Our cash donations have helped support Mums and babies breastfeeding in the camps in Macedonia, the Hellas Lifeguards, childrens activities in camps in Lesvos and to provide food for refugees Samos, and we have recently given funds to enable aid to get to Lebanon, a project we will be supporting this winter.”
Back in the summer when we put on a Friday night version of Malcolms, Pam came along to talk to us about all the good work they do. Originally coming from the opposite end of the East Lancs, and with her only previous experience of FC being erm, good natured ‘banter’ between Buxton fans and our own outside their ground, she didn’t quite know what to expect. I think it’s safe to say one evening spent talking with Reds and seeing Broadhurst Park, turned all that justified apprehension on its head, and left the club with a giddy new fan. Unable to stay away any longer, Pam’s back, and alongside fellow Hummingbirder Sarah, will be talking to us once again.
Like last time, we’ll also be doing a collection, so if you do want to donate, they ask you to be HUMBLE (and not ‘umble like a Cockney would say it, as that rules out the hygiene aspect):
Hygiene – Toiletries, nappies, wipes, dental items, sanitary towels
Underwear – Bras, men’s’ briefs (new), ladies’ briefs, children’s underwear (new)
Medical – Medicines (prescription & non-prescription), medical/hospital equipment, mobility aids
Blankets – And sleeping bags
Love – ‘TeddyAid’, ‘Packs for Peace’, Hand knitted items, Friendship bracelets
Everything for the Feet – Boots, shoes and socks (all ages)
For more details, feel free to pop onto The Hummingbird website and have a ganders. Please also note, due to the fact we’re expecting it to be ram-jammed, the collection point’s going to be located at the cabin outside the ground.
It’s an honour for us to have Shelagh Delaney’s DNA on the stage in the form of her daughter Charlotte. And what better opposition to have on the day than Salford? It’s like it was meant to be (if you believe that sort of thing). In yet more cases of coincidence/fate, as the WCML’s website says:
“Charlotte has written a play inspired by a rail trip across America that she took in April, re-tracing a journey made by her Mother in 1972. Charlotte was accompanied by historian and author, Selina Todd, who is now writing the authorised biography of Shelagh Delaney.”
So not only do we have Malcolms alumni Selina involved, but friends of Malcolms, MaD Theatre Company, have also worked on Charlotte’s play, Sweet Responsibilty. You can’t make this stuff up.
See here for a cracking interview with Charlotte.
There’s a slew of bands out there these days that may publicly speak a lot, but don’t actually say anything. Not Cabbage. Currently riding a wave of publicity and success, they recently tore into The Sun, when the hateful rag championed them to be big in 2017. “Read into the lyrics and you’ll find how much we despise your odious, backwards nationalism” they told them (along with a lot of effing and jeffing that the paper, quite frankly, deserves to get every single day of its existence).
The Mossley five piece, comprising of Lee Broadbent (lead vocals), Joe Martin (vocals, guitar), Eoghan Clifford (guitar), Stephen Evans (bass), Asa Morley (drums), are currently making waves in the music biz and beyond, and with good reason. They’re anarchic live, their tunes are ridiculously good, and they’ve got more to say on a whole host of subjects than most of their peers ever will. Have a listen here to get an idea of what they’re all about.
Despite all the fame, it hasn’t gone to their heads, especially when Guitarist Martin describes the band as a “bunch of scruffy bastards”. Meanwhile, the Guardian described them as “…a scabrous object in the path of the obvious.” and as I have no idea what that means, I’ll leave the final word about Cabbage to the band themselves:
“Read a book, steal from a billionaire, listen to Cabbage.”
Underpinning all of this loveliness will be twenty-two songs played by our DJ in residence, Scott Taylor. Anyone who knows Scott will tell you he has more LPs than were fictional city fans on the hill at Ewood Park, which as we all know, is a scarily massive, dock off figure. To get that figure down to twenty-two is some achievement, so here’s that list in full:
Holland & Dozier Why Can’t We Be Lovers
Teddy Pendergrass Somebody Told Me
The Dells The Love We Had Stays On My Mind
Esther Phillips Home Is Where the Hatred Is
Debbie Taylor I Don’t Wanna Leave You
Donny Hathaway Someday We’ll All Be Free
Walter Jackson My Ship Is Coming In
Freddie Waters I’m Afraid to Let You Into My Life
Z.Z. Hill That Ain’t the Way You Make Love
Phillip Mitchell There’s Another In My Life
Bobby Womack I Don’t Wanna Be Hurt By Ya Love Again
Terry Callier I’d Rather Be With You
G.C. Cameron A Night Like This In Georgia
Bessie Banks Try to Leave Me if You Can
David Ruffin Walk Away From Love
Sam Dees Troubled Child
Peabo Bryson I Can Make it Better
Smokey Robinson A Silent Partner In a Three-Way Love Affair
Aretha Franklin Angel
Beloyd Get Into Your Life
Minnie Riperton The Edge of a Dream
Lamont Dozier All Cried Out
On top of all this, we’ll have the usual food and beverage offerings, a quiz, t-shirts for sale, and there’s probably even more that I’ve forgotten about, but if it’s important we’ll let you know. We’re good like that.
So, if you’ve made it this far and you’re still reading, thanks for sticking with us. Your eyes might be dry and tired, your mind frazzled, your arse numb, but you made it. There was a lot to read because we’ve got a lot of love to share with you. But the very fact you’ve been with us all the way means you care. Which means we’ll probably see you on Saturday. And you know the best thing about it all? This is just 1992-1993. Next week sees 1993-1994 and a distinctly Austrian flavour to proceedings. But more about that next week…..
Just so you know: CYCM’s new home is in the Main Stand bar. We’ll have two thirds of the room, but if you’ve just read all this and think it sounds bobbins, then one end of the room will be partitioned off so you can enjoy a pint in peace. Once you’re in the ground, entrance to CYCM is free, just head to the Main Stand (through the turnstiles if you come after 1), but try and get there as early as possible (come in through the main entrance and up the stairs if you arrive before the turnstiles open), as we’re anticipating it’s going to get busy. So busy in fact, we’ll have hand stamps allowing you to get in and out as you please. We don’t want you not getting back in if you’ve popped out, as that’d just be cruel. And we don’t want that.