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FOOTBALL’S FASHION FAILURES
Football has a chequered history when it comes to fashion, and that is being generous. Looking back over pictures from the last couple of decades, the mind boggles as to quite how grown men managed to conduct their professional lives in such a horrific range of uncomfortable, ill fitting, poorly designed clobber. However, we all know footballers don’t do things by halves and seemingly unsatisfied with having to wear a kit that looks like it could have been designed by a 4 year old with an etch-a-sketch, players have taken to adding to their match-day attire.
I knew we were in trouble when players started wearing coloured boots. I can’t quite remember when they started cropping up, but once they did, there was no stopping them. Red, white, green, blue, purple, gold – I even think I recall seeing Tamas Priskin wearing a pink pair once, not ideal when you are trying to hide from the linesman in an offside position for the 100th time in the same game…
An earlier indication of players losing the sartorial plot was the increase in players wearing gloves. I think my earliest memory of a gloved player was our very own John Barnes, so I am loathe to be too harsh and as Roy Keane correctly observed recently – ‘that boy could play’. However, it has to be said, I doubt that gloves are really necessary and when worn with a short sleeved football shirt, they look plain ridiculous. Yes Lloyd, I’m looking at you.
After the gloves came the tights. Yes, tights. The first player to wear them almost certainly came up with an excuse about them aiding a recovery from an injury, keeping muscles warmed up or some such claptrap, but nowadays they are slipped on without so much as a hint of embarrassment or self consciousness. In a Champions League game recently, even the officials felt it necessary to wear a pair. The pansies.
So, the best loved and most watched sport in the world now has players running round in pink boots, tights and gloves. Surely it couldn’t get any worse. Could it? Of course it could. One simple word and the questionable taste of an Arsenal player has taken football’s crimes against fashion to a whole new and unforgivable level. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the snood.
For those of you blissfully unaware of the latest way footballers have found to make themselves look daft, a snood (I can’t even type the word without feeling embarrassed and slightly silly) is a sort of circular scarf that is worn round the neck, a bit like a big woolly polo mint. Presumably to protect the oh so delicate adams apple region from developing hypothermia. If it sounds ridiculous, it looks even worse and whilst I’m sure the players involved have signed lucrative sponsorship deals to sport these questionable garments, I wouldn’t wear one in the privacy of my own home if you paid me, let alone in front of the watching world.
I dearly hope that when Samir Nasri pulled on his snood for the first time in the Emirates dressing room, he was greeted with howls of derision and merciless mickey taking. I fear that it’s more likely he was asked where the rest of the squad could get one. If you are interested, I’m sure you can get them from the same shop that sold Emmanuel Eboue his white tights.
The only pleasing thing to come out of this worrying trend has been the swift action of our brave and fearless leader Malky Mackay. Clearly sharing my point of view, he quickly announced a ban on Watford players sporting snoods. Quite if a player would have risked the wrath of Sean Dyche by turning up in one, we shall never know…
Perhaps in snubbing snoods, Watford are living up to the ‘unfashionable’ tag that has seemingly been ours for so long. Well, we’re bucking other trends too. We’re nurturing talent instead of paying for it. We’re active in the local community instead of trying to flog shirts in Asia. We’re brave enough to not do what the others do and if that means we’re unfashionable, well that suits me just fine.
Come on you Horns!
— Mike (@RookeryMike
Fog on the Vic -Watford 4-1 Cardiff
Will Buckley was dominant. He made the Cardiff left back Lee Naylor look like a conference player. He out paced him and frustrated to the point where his only tactic was to kick Buckley off the ball. And after getting a yellow card he was substituted – in the first half. You know it isn’t going to be a good day when you have to make a defensive substitution in the first half.
Friday Fun and Games
Having seen it he produced a bag of cola bottles and he was also able to recreate the celebration of that goal.
From the Rookery End with Thanks
Watford fans across the world will have got their weekend off to a flying start
having witnessed the Hornets thoroughly outclassing previously unbeaten
QPR on their home patch, but for me and my fellow ‘From the Rookery
End’ co-presenters the news that our podcast had been downloaded for the
10,000th time made sure the day was a truly unforgettable one.
The MAGIC NUMBER
For a football club with a three sided ground, it is perhaps appropriate that
the objectives detailed in the recently released Annual Report are described as the ‘three pillars’. Unlike the ancient columns that support the increasingly forlorn looking East stand however, these pillars look like they could be integral to the future of Watford and could be around for some time.
All-Time Home Grown Watford XI
1 – I’m only going to pick players I’ve seen play.
2 – Er, well that’s it actually.
A Song for Don
This month we have decided to write a song for Don Cowie. He’s currently out of action with a knee injury and a song might help the healing process and get him back on the pitch a little sooner. The song we’ve decided to use as inspiration is “The Postman Pat” theme song.
I’VE GOT A GOLDEN TICKET
The world and his wife are always after a ticket for something. From the Rookery End’s Mike Parkin is no different…
My entire world seems to be revolving around the search for tickets. I’m sure I’m not alone in currently being surrounded by an over excited and increasingly frantic gaggle of women desperately refreshing the ticketmaster homepage in a bid to purchase tickets for Take That. It’s quite a sight.
IF HAD A MILLION DOLLARS…
We’ve all daydreamed about it. We’ve all talked about it with friends and colleagues. We’ve all got our ideas of what it would be like and with a first prize of over £100 million still unclaimed, the question is being discussed more often than ever. What would you do if you won the lottery?
In answering this question, I imagine I’m much like you. We share a passion (some may say affliction) that means our thoughts don’t immediately turn to the houses we’d buy for ourselves and our family. Neither do we imagine a visit to the local Bentley dealership or a trip to an exclusive travel agent. Such frippery is not for us. We are Watford fans. We of course, would invest in the club. Sorry, what’s that? You wouldn’t? You do want a Bentley and a trip to the Seychelles? Oh. Fair enough, it’s just me then. If I won £100 million on the lottery, I’d buy Watford FC.
All new regimes make changes and mine would be no exception. If you are reading this, don’t panic Malky, I like the cut of your jib and your job is safe. Carry on big man. You will see some differences though…
Firstly, our beloved mascot Harry the Hornet. You may not see a grown man in a costume as a priority. You obviously don’t have a 20 month old daughter. She simply can’t get enough Harry. I can’t help feel that she is being short-changed though, with previous incarnations of our furry friend boasting far superior features – an early 90’s version even got an on pitch wedding! It’s time we invested in an asset that has been neglected for far too long. Sorry Malky, that new player from Arbroath can wait – the first thing my money will be buying is a massive, imposing new tail for Harry the Hornet.
Next up, food. If you like pizza pods, I’m sorry. I really am – your taste buds must be shot, presumably after wolfing a scolding hot portion of aforementioned foodstuff. Anyway, they are gone and in their stead I shall be borrowing from the noble sport of cricket. Cricket teas are legendary, containing all manner of fine food and drink, none of which is conducive to playing sport, but all of which tastes delicious. These wondrous meals are usually put together by the Mother of one of the players, lovingly prepared the night before the match. Well, that’s what is going to happen at Vicarage Road. Each home match day the players Mums, on a rota basis, will receive a generous allowance from me to provide home cooked food for us loyal supporters. Michael Bryan will be entitled to a plateful too – having a player weigh in at under 7 stone surely has to be against some FIFA regulation.
Next up. Music. Z cars will remain. Some traditions are sacred. However, any ‘celebration’ music will be axed. Fans’ cheering a goal is the sweetest sound in sport, it doesn’t need a soundtrack to kick-start it. As for pre-match, my regime will see the reintroduction of brass bands playing on the pitch. The sight and sound of these mighty musicians reminds me of standing on the family terrace and the fantastic noise they generate provides far more motivation than hearing Kasabian again…
Obviously the East Stand would be rebuilt and renamed. I will resist the temptation to name it after myself, neither will I use it to promote the podcast which I co-present (next edition available after the Scunthorpe game!). Instead it will be named after an ex-player. No, not Blissett, Barnes, Jenkins or Mooney. I am prepared to ignore history in the vain hope of getting a laugh. It will be named after Jamie Hand. That’s right ladies and gentlemen, The Hand Stand.
Malky will get a few quid to spend of course, but apart from that, I wouldn’t change much at all. If it ‘aint broke, don’t fix it. This club of ours is in pretty decent shape and the people we have in charge are doing a mighty fine job, even without my fictitious winnings