“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only…”
It’s been a while – “I’ve been away, I’ve been working” – and when last we met, I explained the journey towards a mural I had painted. It was planned and developed during those strange days of spring and early summer: fear and happiness in equal measure; horror and joy.
Dickens pre-empted it all quite nicely.
The actual summer holidays then flew by; resting, cooking, reconnecting with old friends and wondering how the new normal would play out.
There were several frantic scrambles for Trickett merchandise; a very pleasant trip to Wales, staying in a Piggery (and seeing one of Britain’s most notorious hooligans) and then getting two new hamsters whose nocturnal habits (and squeaky wheel) kept us awake amidst the worries about returning to school settings and the inevitable stresses a return to said apparent normality might bring.
We also pondered the future of Messi – wow, does Koeman get into some messy situations as a manager – and the strange scenarios around footballers having to self-isolate for myriad reasons. Then, of course, the long awaited release of three classy new Hummel kits: sneak previews and teasers started the excitement for the new season, heightened by a first trip into town (for what felt like forever) for a lovely lunch at Wreckfish Bistro:
The service and food were incredible, our anniversary meal six months on, and a reminder of the wonderful work done daily by the catering sector. Octopus, morcilla, curried cod, smoked lamb, a pungent blue cheese… all fantastico, magnifico, and the day also involving a trip to the Toffee Shop to see the kits in real life. Some of the training gear is lovely, too, although so far I’ve limited my purchases to the pink one for B’s birthday… there will surely be more to come.
The green kit for the little boy, certainly, especially if this start to season continues, and talking of kits, it’s been fantastic to see – for the first time – an equal spread of kits on show at his Sunday morning football coaching sessions, suggesting a shift in mentality.
Suddenly, things had exploded. The painfully slow and disjointed midfield of lockdown was rumoured to be giving way to the trip of exciting signings. I couldn’t believe me eyes (and social media) as it became apparent we were about to sign two of my favourite players from overseas: Allan and James Rodriguez. We all began stalking them on social media, tracking planes, identifying hotel rum bars and recognising their drinking partners… a chance to celebrate one of the best football photos ever taken, too.
The start to the season was a triumph, not just with the goals and performances, but a shift in mentality: even West Brom – which I followed whilst touring Knowsley Safari Park for E’s birthday – and then the derby, despite the stupid challenges and subsequent controversies, didn’t bring about too much bother (except on Twitter, but that’s a story for another day) and in between, I’d celebrated my birthday with us top of the league and again ventured into town for a romantic and simply perfect meal (finally!) at Six by Nico then went to a pub watching the Crystal Palace game.
The Sicily themed meal – a compensation for not being able to go there back in May – was just perfect, with amazing arancini (see the remnants of, above) luscious lamb and perfect pork being the highlights… and red wine with the lemon dessert? Wow.
But overall it was weird, signing in everywhere, sitting down and having to watch the game on my phone but very rewarding, cathartic almost, after all we’ve been through – not just this year, but for decades previously. The bubble may well burst, but it feels like we’ve got our identity back at the very least. As Dickens said, at odds with the mood of the nation… how very confusing.
For my birthday I got more vouchers to spend at Trickett, the new Elena Ferrante novel, a Playmobil BTTF DeLorean and an amazingly beautiful book on the history of football badge design. I took the family out for pizza, my boy to see that Maradona mural I wrote about previously, and returned home to see that The Spirit of the Blues was on its way to number one. Strange, and positive, times indeed…
A new series of The Twilight Zone then started, as things got serious again. I started to think about conspiracy theories and the general situation. About how much this all felt like a TV series; what with the masks and the deniers, the revolts and scaremongerers causing problems. I then thought back to Birdbox last year, and the similarities in that parents like us are trying our best to protect the young from exposure to what was out there, but with the inevitability of what happens in the film (in case you’ve not seen it!)
Still, at least we have the King of the North to protect us.
Now, I didn’t understand the reference point when I spoke to a friend of his about him – actually never seen one episode of GoT – and, kudos to Joe Anderson for his stance too, but Andy Burnham has proved himself to be a real hero in recent weeks.
Tribalists and apologists might not concur, but I don’t really care about them. They shouldn’t be reading this; they should be lighting the candles instead, sad specimens.
I want this blog to still be about art, not politics. I could discuss the sadness at La Emin’s recent news; a fantastic South Bank Show on Terence Davies; the rather brilliant first episode of The Undoing or even a trip to Southport’s Atkinson gallery and an exhibition on early Femmes Fatales… but it’s hard at the minute to contemplate the trivialities of creativity when there’s so much serious stuff to discuss.
Here’s what I wrote recently, in praise of Greater Manchester’s Mayor:
Lest we forget, the chasm is widening.
Our country is a mess, both in terms of health and politics, and a great divide that already existed has only been exacerbated by recent introduction of inexplicable tiers.
It’s easy to feel hard done to when there’s a whole history of injustice to reference.
Meanwhile, football also finds itself at a crossroads; what would have been solace in these troubled times, has become a circus as the Glazers, JWH and Mr Parry have made illicit and immoral plans to break away which thankfully were rejected. As usual, no apology given when asked for by one of our own.
I’ve always liked the cut of his jib, Andy Burnham: the classy Hillsborough speech; the interview in an old WSAG; that podcast of his favourite songs I wrote about in a recent issue; his involvement in the homelessness projects as seen on Manctopia on BBC2; his regular presence at Courteeners gigs and in the Gwladys Street… need I go on?
The way he has conducted himself throughout the pandemic has been most impressive and his comments this week highlighted the fact. The ‘canary in the coal mine’ analogy was perfect and symbolised his Own background and his representation Of the communities in his regions. Similarly, that he’s involved with several others in the ‘Saving the Beautiful Game’ project, shows his interest in equality and fairness in football as well as the society he serves.
Andy, we salute you.
Anyway, back to October.
A long-planned night away scuppered like the other birthday presents from the last two years, we accentuated the positives and struggled through to Hallowe’en with the help of Scala Radio, Netflix and food magazines, especially Sainsbury’s magazine (who very kindly sent me a free copy after a mix up at the local store) and it all led me to dress like this guy to placate the upset kids wondering why another Hallowe’en had been spoiled.
Hallowe’en and us haven’t mixed well in recent years.
Emergency visits to Alder Hey, broken door locks and painful Dental Hospital operations have given the kids the impressions that the day is fated; hopefully this year will remove any fears that we can’t enjoy the day without problems! We spent time carefully crafting pumpkins, cooking the remnants, understanding how lucky we are… despite everything.
Happy Hallowe’en.
