LAMBERT PROVING TO BE HIS OWN MAN AS NORWICH CONTINUE PROGRESS

LAMBERT PROVING TO BE HIS OWN MAN AS NORWICH PROGRESS CONTINUES

As football phone-ins reveal on an almost daily basis, everybody thinks they know how to manage a team. I have recently been particularly struck by the number of Arsenal supporters voicing their dissatisfaction with Arsene Wenger, a man who has played no small part in making their club what it is today. Three Premier League titles, four FA Cup triumphs and a Champions’ League final are not enough, it seems, to grant him immunity from the vitriol of hundreds of ‘Gooners’ who can tell him who to buy, what team to pick and which substitutions to make.

I have never heard Wenger cite the influences on his management methods and style. Perhaps they are simply his own. When most football bosses get asked about their mentors there is usually a stock answer along the lines of ‘I have worked with various managers over the years and taken a little from each of them’. This seems reasonable; most intelligent people glean something, good or bad, from those with whom they work in whatever situation. Occasionally they might come under the influence of an extraordinary character, in football perhaps a Shankly, Stein, Ferguson or Mourinho, and, maybe even unconsciously, undergo a period of particular influence.

Martin O’Neill, it is said, was much affected by Brian Clough. Whether or not this is absolutely the case only he will really know. There might indeed be some common characteristics beyond the tracksuited pitchside look favoured by both, the confident, lucid and occasionally challenging post-match interviews but only those (like John Robertson) who have been present in a Clough dressing-room and one presided over by O’Neill will really be able to confirm or deny the theory.

Norwich City’s Paul Lambert, who skippered one of O’Neill’s sides at Celtic, is now thought by some to be a ‘clone’ of the Ulsterman, against whom he will be in direct opposition this week as he takes his team to face Sunderland at The Stadium Of Light. However, is this just a short-sighted pundits’ view based on little more than an observation that both tuck their socks into their tracksuit trousers?

In fact, I consider that Lambert is very much ‘his own man’ and indeed he has proved this season that it is possible to be just that and to enjoy success. Going against the received wisdom that what you need to do well in the Premier League is players with experience at that level Lambert has moulded together a squad drawn from virtually every echelon of domestic football except the top flight.

In this respect it might be argued that he is like some of the managers of the past who, like Clough, made so-called ordinary players better. However, that would be to miss the essential point that modern football makes different demands upon players and has become a squad based game.

Clough’s ‘invincible’ Nottingham Forest side which went 42 games unbeaten in 1977-8 featured just 16 players, unthinkable in the 21^st century. Yet as recently as 2002-3 Claudio Ranieri earned himself the nickname of ‘The Tinkerman’ for the excessive squad rotation which arguably cost him his job. Here, I think, lies the key to successful management in the modern game at the top level; the ability to rotate players yet maximise performance and, perhaps the most difficult part of the equation, maintain team spirit. This latter aspect means keeping your players not just fit, but happy, supportive and willing. It is this aspect of Lambert’s management which seems to mark him out from many.

Without detailing every new team line-up Lambert has named this season those of us who follow Norwich closely have become familiar with change. The manager has regularly made three, four or even five changes to his team, often accompanied by completely different formations, regardless of previous results. This has made it difficult for opponents to predict the way City will approach a game and meant that it is almost impossible to name Norwich’s ‘best eleven’, if indeed such a vague concept actually exists.

Crucially Lambert has kept his squad focused and, it seems from outside at least, ‘together’. I would suggest that this has not been accidental but the product of inspired management. Faced with the prospect of having a raw 19 year old goalkeeper as back-up for an extended period of time Lambert’s decision to throw Jed Steer into action in the FA Cup win at West Bromwich Albion turned out to be a bold masterstroke. Following a brilliant debut Steer is now twice the man he was, swelled by the trust his manager placed in him.

Against Chelsea at home Lambert decided to leave his most creative player, Wes Hoolahan, out of the side. After a gritty 0-0 draw the manager used his post match interview to praise Hoolahan for his exemplary attitude. Just when you think you know what his next move will be, he surprises you. Who expected Simon Lappin to suddenly feature in the starting line-up at QPR?  Who predicted the extended return to the side of Andrew Surman, let alone the run of goalscoring form that ensued? Who raised eyebrows in the cup tie at The Hawthorns when, with the score at 1-1 and Steve Morison not even on the bench, Lambert replaced  Hoolahan and Holt with Jackson and Wilbraham?

In the early weeks of this season fans’ favourite Grant Holt was regularly a substitute and some began to question his ability to ‘cut it’ at the top level. His response has firmly answered his doubters. His attitude, it seems, has never wavered, he remains the most positive, bullish embodiment of The Canaries’ indomitable team spirit. How exactly Holt has been handled by Lambert we do not know. How he manages to keep his players happy, each believing that they he is still an integral part of what the manager calls ‘the group’ is the secret to his success. He has found a formula, it seems, for keeping his players rested, fit, hungry and contented.

At the end of a week which saw Jonny Howson welcomed into the fold with Lambert citing a player’s character as ‘paramount’ when considering signings, it’s time to applaud once again the quiet Scotsman’s progress. He is unlikely ever to reveal too much of his method, preferring to avoid, rather than court, publicity and never criticising his players publicly. After the dreadful home defeat by MK Dons in The Carling Cup he did manage a comment of ‘disappointing’ but I wouldn’t mind betting he was a little more forthcoming in the dressing room! But his measured inclusive approach to his job has seen City through to the last sixteen of the FA Cup and to a top ten berth in the Premier League.

Whoever or whatever his influences have been they are certainly working!

WHITBREAD THE CHIEF LAUNDRYMAN AS CANARIES KEEP CLEAN SHEET

WHITBREAD THE CHIEF LAUNDRYMAN AS CANARIES KEEP CLEAN SHEET

I don’t know if Zak Whitbread’s Dad, Barry, was at Carrow Road for Norwich City’s goalless draw with Chelsea but if he were he must have been a proud man.

Barry Whitbread was a fine player himself and indeed was something of a legend in non-league football in the North West back in the late seventies and early eighties. Holding down a full-time job as a PE teacher in Liverpool he was a prolific scorer for, amongst others, Runcorn and Altrincham before moving permanently into the coaching and management career which took him across the globe. It was while Barry was coaching in the USA that Zak was born in Houston, Texas. Whitbread senior later enjoyed a spell as the manager of the Singapore national side before returning to England and working in a coaching and scouting capacity for, amongst others, Liverpool, Bolton and Blackburn.

Barry Whitbread was my tutor when I took my first FA Coaching badge during my student days in Liverpool. I remember him as a thoroughly professional operator; all his sessions whether in the lecture theatre or on the pitch were organised with absolute precision and minute attention to detail. At the time this was perhaps somewhat unusual in a football world which still tended towards what might be called a ‘Mike Bassett’ approach. Nowadays, of course, and no more so than at Colney and Carrow Road in the Lambert era, we expect no stone to be left unturned when it comes to preparation, analysis of performance and the appropriate use of sports science.

Funnily enough the topic I was given to coach to local schoolboys for my practical examination was ‘Defensive Heading’; what a fine example Zak Whitbread’s performance against Chelsea would have been to show to those youngsters 32 years ago! Time and again Whitbread won important headers whether faced with long diagonal balls or crosses, and in my opinion he was deservedly named Man Of The Match, although that is not to underestimate the contributions of others. John Ruddy was again on top form, dominating his box, handling with certainty and proving that, when necessary he can be quick and decisive in coming off his line. Daniel Ayala produced another impressive display, winning his own fair share of headers, using the ball well and thankfully resisting the temptation to make any challenges as reckless as the one which cost City a penalty at The Hawthorns last week.

Nor should we underestimate the defensive work of every other player in the side. Defending starts at the front and though fans are often quick to voice their frustration when forwards seem occasionally to lack energy they do not always realise just how exhausting all that running and closing down can be. Steve Morison receives some criticism from those who sit around me at Carrow Road but it clearly comes from those who have never played up front, let alone on their own as he often has this season! Morison does a huge amount of running as, of course, does Grant Holt, and against a team which moves the ball as fluently as Chelsea this can be a thankless task. Behind the front two today every other member of the line-up ‘put a shift in’ to use the common parlance. Anthony Pilkington was, unusually, singled out by the manager for special praise; not only did he work hard when Norwich did not have the ball but he also made several impressive forays forward and gave Ashley Cole a few uncomfortable moments.

So this was a team effort and a point hard earned by all those in the yellow and green. But let’s return to Whitbread. In a career dogged by injury the young American/Scouser has managed fewer than 150 senior appearances with Liverpool, Millwall and Norwich yet now it seems, given a run of starts, he is beginning to produce his best and I, for one, would be surprised if his form is not again catching the eye of the USA National coaching team. His blossoming partnership with Ayala at the heart of the Canaries’ defence is testament not only to his ability but also to the superb coaching work of Ian Culverhouse and Paul Lambert. Against Chelsea not only was he dominant in the air but he made countless blocks, clearances and tackles whilst showing an admirable assurance on the ball.

That first clean sheet might have been a long time in coming but with Whitbread growing in confidence with every game it certainly ought not to be City’s last. Dad, Barry, would have been particularly proud of his son’s unrelenting focus and concentration throughout the ninety minutes as the shackles were kept firmly on Fernando Torres and his expensive team-mates.

IS THIS AS GOOD AS IT GETS FOR LAMBERT?

IS THIS AS GOOD AS IT GETS FOR LAMBERT?

Following Norwich City as I have for over forty years has not been without its ups and downs. The highest point perhaps was the away win against Bayern Munich in October 1993 or maybe finishing third earlier that year in the inaugural Premier League season. The low point has to be the 7-1 home defeat by Colchester in August 2009 as the club made the worst imaginable start to its first campaign in domestic football’s third tier since 1960.

Following last Saturday’s win at West Bromwich Albion the club now sits proudly in 9^th position in the Premier League and without cataloguing details of the miraculous turnaround engineered by Paul Lambert and his staff one wonders if, quite simply, in the 21^st century English football world this is as good as it gets as far as Norwich City are concerned.

It is unlikely that the club can ever entertain hopes of repeating their achievements of 1993. Similarly other clubs whose history might even include First Division titles (Portsmouth, Burnley, Ipswich, Derby) but which can never aspire to the financial clout of the ‘big boys’ must realistically come to terms with limited ambition. It is in no way a negative criticism of the club I love to ask just how far is it possible to go?

That is not to say, of course, that there cannot be occasional victories over the game’s giants, as Swansea City so admirably showed this very weekend with a pulsating win over Arsenal. But with finance so dominant in the game it is difficult to imagine that a Swansea or a Norwich City could mount a realistic challenge for the title.

 Paul Lambert has proved that he can take players from lower levels and make them better. He can inspire and motivate them to punch above their weight, to draw on every iota of their capability to produce their best. He and his staff have put together a squad of honest, industrious and skilful characters, raised their fitness levels and instilled in them a magnificent team spirit. Thanks to Lambert’s tactical nous (and that of his assistants) Norwich City can today count themselves amongst the top ten football teams in the country. Thirty, or perhaps even twenty, years ago it would have been possible, if unlikely, that he could have pushed for the top prize with his current employers.

In all that he has achieved at Norwich Lambert has proved that he has what it takes to have a crack at managing at the top. However, whereas the young Bill Shankly could in 1959 secure the manager’s position at Liverpool, albeit at a lowish point in the club’s history, and the still quite inexperienced Brian Clough went to Derby in 1967 and within five years took them from Division Two to the League Championship it appears that such aspirations are no longer realistic. Indeed one has to question whether the great managers of yesteryear would have been able to achieve such magnificent success had they been around today when not only are there just five or six clubs financially capable of the top prize but also those after the manager’s position in those clubs come not only from Britain but across the globe.

So what next for Lambert and his assistants, Ian Culverhouse and Gary Karsa? If, as seems likely, they keep Norwich up this year what more can they achieve before ambition causes them to look elsewhere? Sadly establishing East Anglia’s finest as a Premier League fixture with crowds above the 30,000 mark (allowing for a bit of stadium expansion) really will mean a ceiling has been reached. It’s possible, of course, that there could be a Europa League adventure somewhere along the way but the fact remains that if Lambert is to prove himself one of the very best of British managers he will have to leave Norwich, either for a bigger domestic concern or perhaps a continental outfit. Only by handling a big budget and dealing with the world’s greatest players in a Champions’ League environment will he be able to write his name alongside those of Shankly, Clough, Busby and the like.

I am sure that all Canaries’ fans will feel like I do that when the time comes, as it inevitably will, that Lambert moves on. We will forever be grateful to him for his remarkable work here. He has rebuilt our team, rekindled our enthusiasm and restored our pride. I am sure we all hope that it will be some time yet before that happens and perhaps our biggest fear is that we will lose him not to one of the game’s giants but to a club outside the top echelon but perceived to be bigger than Norwich City; I could understand him going to Liverpool or Manchester United but would hate to see him at Aston Villa!

NO CALL FOR THE CROWD DOCTOR AS CANARIES SHOW PREMIER LEAGUE CLASS

NO CALL FOR THE CROWD DOCTOR AS CANARIES SHOW PREMIER LEAGUE CLASS

I didn’t know until I sat in The City Stand before the FA Cup tie against Burnley that the club even had a ‘Crowd Doctor’. However, there in front of me was a man in a fluorescent jacket with those two words emblazoned across his shoulders. Inevitably I pondered the potential demands of his job. Would he be called upon to administer collective therapy for shock in the event of another MK Dons debacle? Or was he there in case the Barclay End crowd surfer came to grief on the pitchside hoardings? As it happened he wasn’t required.

I was excited, being old enough to remember the days before the FA Cup lost some of its magic. The Third Round still seems special even though it is now the stage when highly paid Premier League reserves  try desperately to remember where they left their boots as Sir Alex, ‘Arry, Arsene and AVB rest their galacticos.

Arriving at the ground I had bought my usual ‘Golden Goal’ ticket. I never win and I sometimes wonder if anybody does. You never hear, do you? Such things are shrouded in mystery. At Liverpool they used to run a competition where you bought a ticket with a crowd number on it and if your number matched the official attendance you won £100. I actually once heard a Scouse wag whose ticket was just one single digit over the right figure exclaim ‘Oh would you look at that? If I hadn’t come I’d have won!’

The Burnley fans outside the ground were optimistic. Ray, Frank and his son, Stuart, had travelled from the North West to meet up with Ian, a Claret now exiled in Norfolk. All four considered their resurgent side stood a good chance against Norwich who, they believed would be below strength. ‘You’re like we were a couple of years ago’, said Ray, ‘staying in the Premier League is more important than the FA Cup.’ Ian proudly informed me that he had seen Norwich’s 1959 first round win over Ilford which launched the then Third Division Canaries’ amazing march to the semi-final.  They told me, too, that their team once won the game’s most famous Cup, though, understandably, that 1914 triumph was soon eclipsed by subsequent events.

Both clubs, then, have proud cup history but this time there was not a white police horse or a tin-foil covered cardboard cut-out FA Cup in sight and the only wooden rattle I saw was the one wielded by the programme seller outside The Barclay. This is the FA Cup 21^st century style and to quote Mark Chapman on 6-0-6 the magic is now ‘more Paul Daniels than David Copperfield’. So despite recently having  performed in knockout competitions about as impressively as Ann Widdecombe in ‘Strictly’, on this occasion Lambert’s men were ‘at it’ and cruised to a win which underlined how far they have come since twice struggling to overcome Burnley last season.

You can always tell when the Norwich crowd are not anxious about events on the pitch; it’s when The Barclay and The Snakepit begin their chanting competition and I timed its first arrival at around forty minutes. The home fans, too, revelled in taunting the meagre Burnley contingent with a chorus of ‘We are Premier League!’ which, in fact, was a fair commentary on City’s performance.

The most disturbing match day experience for me happened, incidentally, as I queued for my half-time cuppa. The man next to me asked ‘Would you hold my sausage roll while I have a pee?’ I was so shocked I nearly called the Crowd Doctor!

I HAVE A VOICE BUT I WILL NEVER BOO MY TEAM

I HAVE A VOICE BUT I WILL NEVER BOO MY TEAM.

 After Norwich City’s recent home match against Fulham, the Canaries’ manager, Paul Lambert, spoke of his disappointment at a small section of the ground expressing their disquiet at half-time following 45 minutes of football which had not met their expectations. The EDP’s Chris Lakey has subsequently written in his ‘Opinion’ column that fans are ‘entitled to have a voice’. Both, of course, have a point; Lambert is right to talk of how far his team have come since the beginning of his tenure whilst Lakey is only too aware that customers who pay around £45 for a ticket have the right to express dissatisfaction.

I wonder, however, if it is that simple or whether perhaps what we are witnessing in grounds across the country is, in fact, football’s version of society’s recent trend towards short-tempered intolerance; the sort of anger-expression we see every day in the school, the supermarket or, particularly, on the road.

There was a time when supporting your team meant just that. It was unequivocal, unconditional and unwavering. ‘Who do you support?’ you would be asked, and your answer (in my case ‘Norwich’) wasn’t followed by the caveat ‘but I reserve the right to boo the team when I feel like it and to hold up banners demanding a change of manager when we lose a few games.’

How times have changed! The arrival of social media such as this blog, message boards and twitter has given everybody not just a voice but a platform from which to shout and now we regularly witness the results of coordinated unrest. Blackburn Rovers’ recent woes might well have tested the patience of even their most dedicated fans but I cannot imagine that twenty, or maybe even ten, years ago they would have responded in the belligerent fashion that has seen their manager, Steve Kean, subjected to particularly unpleasant abuse. I can recall feeling desperate about Norwich City’s plight under Peter Grant (remember QPR away?) and Glenn Roeder but it never entered my head to boo the team or resort to personal abuse. I always felt, perhaps naively, that at least everybody was doing their best!

I also think that a crowd expressing dissatisfaction during a game can only detract from the performance of a team; hardly the role of the football supporter surely? When I trailed around the country as a lad watching Ron Saunders’ and John Bonds’ teams toiling (and often losing) at Anfield, Old Trafford and The Baseball Ground it never entered my head to boo. They were Norwich! They were wearing the yellow and green and that was enough! If they lost, I lost too! I shared their pain, I didn’t add to it! One filthy, wet Saturday afternoon at St. Andrew’s in March 1972 springs to mind. Saunders’ City team, chasing their first ever promotion to the top flight, played Birmingham City in a real top of the table face-off. I sat in rain-soaked misery as we crashed to a dreadful 4-0 defeat. I have rarely, if ever, felt so low at a football match, whether playing or watching. Never once did it occur to me to complain, to criticise the players or to question the manager’s tactics. City had lost and I, like them, had, as managers always now say, to ‘dust myself down and go again’, even if that was  just to school on the next Monday morning! (Incidentally Norwich won the Division Two title that year by one point...from Birmingham City!)

Most people would, I think, as they usually do where modern football is concerned, say that ‘it’s all down to money’. We’ve all heard those callers to the BBC’s 6-0-6 ‘These blokes earn more in a week than I do in two years, Robbie! If I want to boo them when I pay their wages, then I will!’ And, yes, many can rightly sympathise with that view. But, and here’s my point, how does that fit with being a supporter of your club?

Money does seem to have clouded the issue, though. Our consumer society tells us we have rights. If the product we pay our hard-earned cash for does not meet our standards then we can send it back and claim a refund. Football, though, is not like that. It’s a game. Even Manchester City cannot win them all.

As for players’ wages, well who wouldn’t like to earn what they do? But it’s a brief and precarious career and, to be completely fair, they only take what they are offered. It’s all legal.

In an ideal football world players would be paid according to their performance. However, one only needs to read the widely-varying ‘marks out of ten’ sections in newspapers after match reports to realise what a nonsense that would be! Blimey, there’s a bloke who sits behind me at Carrow Road who would have sent Steve Morison to a Siberian labour camp by now!

It’s a huge cliché to call football ‘a game of opinions’ but it is just that. It’s also the people’s game and it’s about clubs and their supporters. True supporters understand, I think, that their role is to promote not denigrate their club.

I always get a little chill when Norwich City run out of the tunnel. Over the years they have given me massive excitement, huge interest and not a little disappointment. Being a Canaries supporter has been an important part of my life. I will never boo them.

'HYPOCRISY..THY NAME IS FOOTBALL'

With apologies to Shakespeare

‘HYPOCRISY...THY NAME IS FOOTBALL.’

Unless you’re listening to the magnificent Stuart Hall on BBC Radio Five Live it is unlikely that football turns your thoughts towards classic literature. However, I have to admit that both during and after Norwich City’s 2-1 New Year win at Loftus Road I could not help myself calling to mind one or two familiar quotations.

It is Stuart Hall, of course, who regularly weaves literary allusions into his reports (‘And here we are at The Colosseum (Anfield) for a game of Titanic proportions...’) and watching Joey Barton’s sending-off, then reading his subsequent reactions, as well as those of his remarkably erudite manager, Neil Warnock was what set me going.

First a little history. On the 16^th March 2002 Gary Megson (whom we Canaries know well) took his West Bromwich Albion side to play Sheffield United (then managed by Warnock) in a game which has since been known as ‘The Battle Of Bramall Lane’. The match was abandoned after 81 minutes when The Blades, losing 3-0, were reduced to six players, having had three sent off whilst a further  two walked off injured. There were accusations from the Albion bench that some Sheffield United staff were encouraging their players to feign injury to get the game abandoned.

More recently, on 13^th August 2011, Joey Barton, playing for Newcastle United against Arsenal, was slapped in the face by Gervinho. As millions saw on ‘Match Of The Day’ that evening Barton’s reaction was to throw himself to the ground with all the subtlety of the murder victim in a local Am Dram version of an Agatha Christie mystery. Gervinho was sent off and Barton later commented, ‘I did go down easily... I have been hit harder by people at school...he raised his hands, we all know the rules about that...I have made a meal of it.’

So to West London, January 2012. Barton puts his forehead against that of Bradley Johnson, admitting ‘There was a touching of skin with no velocity at all’. But the trouble is, you see, that he put his head against that of another player and we all know the rules about that, don’t we?

Interestingly, Johnson did not go to the ground as we have seen so many players (not just Barton) do in recent years. However, he did react, touching his face in a way that would suggest that some ‘serious’ contact had been made. Whether his reaction merited the vitriolic accusations made after the game by Warnock is doubtful. The Rangers manager said ‘I’ve seen him (Johnson) do a few things like that....I think he should be done (charged)’. He did not specify what any of the ‘few things’ were or say whether he had seen them in real life or in his imagination.

Our views on Warnock’s subsequent reflections on the game however, ought not to be coloured by his nastiness towards Johnson, nor by the fact that he once put two fingers up to Nigel Worthington (then City manager) after a game at Carrow Road in March 2006. Instead let us consider calmly and fairly the balanced and philosophical nature of his views. ‘It seems to happen every time we play Norwich, getting people sent off and all the decisions going against us.’ Forgive me but if I were a Rangers fan I would not be impressed by my manager sounding in a Press Conference like a spoilt seven-year old.

How impressive that Paul Lambert judiciously declined to comment on the incident. How indicative of his infinitely more thoughtful demeanour and typical of his measured style.

So why was I thinking of literature? Well first Barton’s come-uppance put me in mind of Sir Walter Scott’s ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave/When first we practise to deceive’.  Football might be a game currently at the mercy of financial giants and unscrupulous players but Barton’s dismissal yesterday might at least make Gervinho believe that it remains true that ‘what goes around comes around’. Like the boy who cried ‘Wolf!’ Barton has created for himself a reputation and he must learn to cope with that.

And so to Shakespeare. ‘Frailty, thy name is woman’ said Hamlet. I’m not aware that the young prince was a fan of our once beautiful game but if he were he might have commented ‘Hypocrisy, thy name is football.’

Stuff Your Primadonnas - Give Me Holt! 17th DECEMBER 2011

STUFF YOUR PRIMADONNAS...GIVE ME HOLT!

Almost exactly one year ago (20^th December 2010) I posted a blog entitled ‘Grant Holt – An Ordinary Legend’. In it I celebrated not only the outstanding performances of ‘The Horse’ but also his sheer down-to-earth qualities. What I focused on could almost be called an ‘anti-celebrity’ image. I mentioned his post-match interviews and how they make the listener almost feel part of things, how he speaks our language and genuinely comes across as one of us. I wrote that I felt we were watching legendary status in the making and I finished the blog by stating that I firmly believed that one day Holty would lead out a Norwich City side in the Premier League.

One year on and I feel it is now time to welcome Holt into Norwich City’s Hall Of Fame (not that I claim the right to do so!) Most City fans would quite rightly consider that the key man behind our unbelievable change of fortune over the last twenty seven months has been Paul Lambert whose shrewd acquisitions and tactical awareness have underpinned everything we have achieved. That is not to underestimate the off-field contributions of the board, the Chief Executive and the coaching staff, especially Ian Culverhouse. However, if we concentrate our attentions on the park, the part Holt has played in our renaissance is certainly the stuff of legend.

Fifty goals in under one hundred appearances is a magnificent achievement but statistics don’t do justice to Holty. Here is a man, signed from League Two Shrewsbury Town after plying his trade at (amongst others)Workington Town, Halifax,  Barrow and Rochdale, who now has people seriously suggesting that, at the age of thirty, he might merit an international call up!

There can be few of us who expected this when Bryan Gunn, in what might be considered his final positive contribution to the club he served so magnificently for so long, signed the big man in the summer of 2009. For my part I knew he had a decent goalscoring record in the lower leagues but I also knew he had moved around a lot, numbering at least eight clubs amongst his former employers, and I wondered why. I have to say now that given his magnificent contribution to The Canaries’ cause since then I simply cannot understand how a player who so completely embodies commitment was allowed to slip through the grasp of so many managers without ever attracting the attention of a top club. At the end of the 2006-7 season he was voted Nottingham Forest’s player of the year and yet they let him go!

If Holt were a difficult character, a dressing-room ‘stirrer’ or a bad influence on others I could understand it. Given that as far as I can see he is the absolute opposite, I can only count our Canary blessings! Maybe there is some truth in the concept that this is a perfect example of the ‘right place, right time’ theory. Paul Lambert’s arrival at Carrow Road coinciding with Holt entering a mature phase of his career might just have created the perfect combination, the manager’s burgeoning appreciation of the game with its continental influences providing  the centre-forward with the necessary guidance to polish his bustling style with a bit of Premier League lustre.

Whichever way you look at it Grant Holt is now part of Norwich City folk-lore. His goal today at Everton was the result of a piece of skill which had it been performed by a Drogba or a Balotelli would have been feted to the extreme, while his goals at Anfield and last week against Newcastle were more reminiscent of Ron Davies (for those with long memories!) or the Toon’s own Alan Shearer.

Holt scores goals..and we love him for it. But for me his presence means more than just goals. He is our leader, our icon, our talisman, our heart. A hat-trick against Ipswich, that silly moustache, laughing on the pitch, accepting a substitute role with dignity, speaking through the media directly to us fans.. all of this is what makes him special. I’m sure we’re all tired of reading that he was once a tyre fitter but still the idea that a lad who came up the hard way, and even went to play in Singapore as a wannabe twenty year old, is now outperforming some of the strutting primadonnas of world football is just another reason that our club is what it is.

How does the Barclay song go? We ****ing love Grant Holt!

Why I'm Not Jealous Of Manchester City. 4th DECEMBER 2011

WHY I’M NOT JEALOUS OF MAN CITY

So we lost 5-1 and took a bit of a pasting in the end. The Manchester City machine rolled on in its plush surroundings with its urbane manager and its untold millions. Mario Balotelli came off the bench to further demonstrate his arrogance and Adam Johnson showed what a good player he is and why being a bit-part substitute is wasting his career in exchange for Middle Eastern lucre.

Well I’m not jealous. On the contrary the trip to Manchester City’s ground (ludicrously dubbed ‘The Etihad’ in yet another demonstration of how football has sold out to Mammon) reminded me forcefully of just how glad I am to support Norwich City and, I suppose, just how grateful I am that we have not been taken over by some foreign oligarch.

‘Hang on,’ you might be saying. ‘Wouldn’t you just love Norwich to be where Manchester City are?’ Well, yes I would but not if that meant losing my club’s identity, changing the name of the ground, fielding a team of mercenaries collected from across the globe regardless of price who have no regard for my club’s identity, history or heritage, and employing David Platt in a coaching capacity.

I always respected Manchester City in the past. Undoubtedly the poor relations as far as football in that city is concerned they are supported by more locals and when I was a kid had some pretty flamboyant success under Joe Mercer and Malcolm Allison, playing an exciting carefree style of football which catered at various times for the flair of Mike Summerbee, Francis Lee, Rodney Marsh, Dennis Tueart and Peter Barnes. Their indomitable supporters stood by the club whatever the situation and (like us) they still pulled in bumper ‘Blue Moon’ singing crowds when they sank to the third tier of English football. And I remember being really impressed when I heard that when Old Trafford suffered bomb damage they even let United play at their Maine Road ground. I also loved the urban myth their fans created suggesting that Uwe Rosler’s granddad was the Luftwaffe pilot responsible for the bombing!

Now their seemingly ordinary fans are seriously contemplating their team becoming one of the most dominant forces in world club football. But is it really their team?

I might be wrong but I just don’t think I could identify with such a disparate bunch, and a bunch of which every member is a massive star. In my early days as a Norwich fan I had a particular fondness for those members of the team who seemed not to take their selection for granted but to value it; I remember the hunger of the young Graham Paddon, the desire of the lanky, almost awkward, David Cross, the drive of the emerging Darren Eadie and the passion of the youthful Craig Bellamy. Then later I felt such gratitude when I heard that Darren Huckerby took a substantial pay-cut to join us (ironically from Man City!). ‘That’ll do for me,’ I thought.

I have written before of my admiration for Grant Holt’s ordinariness and it is undimmed; indeed it has been hugely increased this year as he has accepted his slightly diminished on-field role with good grace and still contributed massively. They say you should never meet your heroes and maybe they’re right but give me a Holt over a Balotelli anyday, or a Tierney over a De Jong or a Hoolahan over a Nasri. I just need to identify with my team somehow, to share my club with them.

So honestly I mean it. If some big money sheikh bought Delia out tomorrow and brought in fifteen top players who’d never heard of Norwich City, didn’t know a canary from a parrot and weren’t prepared to learn the words to ‘On The Ball City’ I think I’d have to take up golf!

Manchester City have a great team. They are so good they can get rid of Carlos Tevez and have Balotelli, Johnson and De Jong on the bench

Treated like sh**, Sir Alex? You don't know what it feels like. 29th AUGUST 2011

TREATED LIKE SH**, SIR ALEX?
TRY PUTTING YOURSELF IN OUR SHOES.

So Sir Alex Chewing-Gum thinks that Manchester United have been treated like excrement by the FA. Well after three weeks of Premier League
existence I reckon we Norwich city fans are the ones asking questions about ill-treatment.
I wonder at what point a club becomes respected as 'belonging' in the top flight. On the evidence of what we've seen so far this season
it's to do with Premier League longevity and the attitude of referees (but I can't help thinking that the formula is complicated by money and what I
can only term managerial 'beef').
It used to be easy to know a top club. It was those with a history, a venerable old stadium (think Highbury, Roker Park, Maine Road, White Hart Lane)
 and a loyal, mainly working-class fan base. My childhood memories also suggest that the really top teams had instantly recognisable kits and at
least seven automatically recognisable names on their team sheets every week.
But today's Premier League is a completely different environment. Such teams as those of my boyhood belong to a bygone, misty age.
You might think it's just all about money.That's the common cry of the disgruntled fan, especially those of a certain vintage. The thrust of their
argument is that if you get yourself a Russian oligarch, a Thai businessman or a bored Arab Sheikh and don't care too much where they got their money from
you're on the road to success. The next step is to ensure that your starting line up is about as authentically British as paella, pizza or chilli con carne.
 Or maybe move to a new stadium, away from the streets that play home to your supporters and into an out-of-town, no-atmosphere warehouse without a roof.
Well my close observation of Norwich City's first three weeks as a Premier League club is leading me to a different conclusion. I have clearly identified
 the single most significant factor in measuring when a club has 'made it'. It's when the referees favour your team. When the 50/50s go your way.
 When your player commits two yellow card offences but stays on the pitch but your opponents get red cards for similar if not less serious challenges
and your team receives penalties for 'fouls' outside the box.
Had Ritchie De Laet's challenge at Wigan which resulted in a penalty taken place in the home penalty area at Old Trafford or Stamford Bridge it would
 have been dismissed as a 'coming together' - the most recent addition to the pundits' lexicon (meaning - 'I don't know if it was a foul or not').
Leon Barnett's red card challenge on Stoke's Jonathan Walters was, firstly, outside the box and, secondly, the most glaring example of a 'coming together'
I've ever seen. Meanwhile John Ruddy's dive at the feet of Ramires at Stamford Bridge might well have been a penalty but the red card was harsh.
Can you even imagine the vitriol which would have been spewing forth from the camp of Sir Alex (whether directly from old Wrigley tonsils himself or not)
if those decisions had gone against Manchester United? Apoplexy wouldn't even get close to describing the mood.
And yet any surprise or disappointment expressed by Norwich fans or management at these decisions is quickly dismissed. On 'Match Of The Day' (where the level
of punditry has reached an alarmingly poor level) the 'experts'have shrugged and smirked, 'Norwich were perhaps a little unlucky.' On 6-0-6 Blackburn's
Jason Roberts dismissed the complaints of an articulate Norwich fan on this issue by saying that's the way it is for small clubs - when you go to such places
as Old Trafford and Stamford Bridge THAT'S WHAT YOU HAVE TO EXPECT.
So let's just check that. WHAT YOU HAVE TO EXPECT is corrupt, inept, incompetent officiating BECAUSE YOU'VE JUST GOT PROMOTED.
Now I've always regarded Norwich City as a bigger club than Wigan Athletic and certainly the equal of Stoke City. I don't think either Roberto Martinez
or Tony Pulis are quite as intimidating to referees as a Ferguson or a Wenger and yet successive referees offer these clubs more 'respect' than they afford
Norwich City.
Unless Paul Lambert can quickly learn the tricks of referee manipulation/intimidation it looks like we face a season of being 'a little unlucky' with officials
and only by surviving in the top flight for a few years (like Wigan and Stoke) will we 'earn the right' to be treated fairly, or perhaps that means unfairly
at the expense of some other more recently promoted team. Hmmm... this staying up business is a lot more complicated than it might seem.
Treated like sh**, Sir Alex? You haven't got a clue what it really feels like!

Catering References,,a message for national journalists. 7th August 2011

CATERING REFERENCES...A MESSAGE FOR NATIONAL JOURNALISTS

This week I’ve read two articles in national newspapers discussing Norwich City’s prospects for the coming season without making any catering references. I hope this is evidence that a tired old grating trademark of lazy journalism has had its day but just in case, as the Premiership restaurant opens its doors, I have a message for those big boys of the press who are turning their attention our way.....we’ve had our fill of catering references. Really. We’re stuffed full. We have no appetite for any more.  So pay attention!

What’s on the menu at Carrow Road this season? For starters Paul Lambert’s recipe for success has been based on a diet of solid fitness training for the players. And while there will surely be a pressure cooker atmosphere at home games which will boil over at certain times the manager has garnered a promising mixture. Relatively speaking he has collected the ingredients for his team from the bargain aisles of the football supermarket though he is making judicious use, too, of what was already on the Colney shelves or, like Korey Smith,  Chris Martin and Declan Rudd, home-grown produce.

In a team stuffed with possibilities there will be familiar beefy stock provided by goal-poacher, Grant Holt (though he might this season have to feed off scraps a little more), a soupcon of magic by Wes Hoolahan, searing pace by Richie de Laet (judging by pre-season) and the rare ability to slice open defences by Elliott Bennett and Anthony Pilkington.

Savages' Key Role in Norwich Win. Thanks, Robbie! 29th APRIL 2011

Savage’s key role in Canaries’ victory.            THANKS, ROBBIE

Robbie Savage. ‘Pretentious’, ‘arrogant’ and ‘hypocritical’ were the words which sprang to mind as I watched his ultimately rather sad farewell at Carrow Road on Monday. Though he has often captured the headlines for the wrong reasons in his pantomime career Savage has, I think, generally given of his best for whichever team he has played. He has 39 Welsh caps, a League Cup winners’ medal, a Maserati (I think) and millions of pounds. A pretty fine haul in a variety of senses for a pretty limited player.

With his blond ponytail and Alice band, his record of attention-seeking behaviour and pseudo-rebellious traits Savage has cleverly kept himself in or near the football headlines for fifteen years or so now without ever really reaching the top. As his limited playing powers wane he has, inexplicably to my mind, somehow impressed those that govern our national sports radio station (BBC Five Live) sufficiently for them to grant him considerable amounts of air time. In particular his co-presentation of 6-0-6 (which has amazingly seen him nominated for a broadcasting award) has allowed him to display what seems to me a severely limited tactical appreciation of the game and an even less impressive ability to understand coherent arguments. The result is a constant tirade of repeated, shouted put downs whenever his own view is challenged.

Savage is apparently some sort of players’ representative for the ‘Respect’ campaign for referees and match officials. Anybody present at Carrow Road last Monday will appreciate the huge irony of that completely ridiculous fact. Indeed I can think of few finer examples of complete and utter nonsense in the world today, sporting or otherwise. Tasked with man-marking Wes Hoolahan and having been proved incapable of so doing, Savage set about trying to influence the game in other ways. Whingeing and whining at every decision that did not go Derby’s way he quickly began to irritate the home fans. One of his finest moments came when he stood over a free kick awarded to Norwich, illegally trying to stop it from being taken quickly. When it was taken, despite his interference, and the ball subsequently lost, the referee quite sensibly called it back to be retaken. Since Savage had (illegally) prevented Norwich from properly taking the kick this seemed fair. Cue a pathetic rant from the Welshman; arms waving, mane tossing, voice raised, the ‘Respect’ campaign ambassador did all that he could to undermine the entire concept of the movement he is supposed to represent. What a hypocrite!

However, the best was yet to come. When substituted, Savage played his key role in the Norwich victory. Dawdling ridiculously slowly across the full width of the Carrow Road pitch he responded to the cat-calls of the home fans by pausing repeatedly to wave to all parts of the ground. This was a self-indulgent and breathtakingly arrogant demonstration of self-importance. Had it been perpetrated by a truly great player in the twilight of his career it might have been acceptable; from Savage it was totally embarrassing.

How wonderful, then, that this ridiculous posturing should result in extra time being added by the referee only for Norwich City to snatch victory in the very dying seconds. How marvellously fitting that the footballing gods should exact their revenge in so ruthless a fashion.

Thanks, Robbie!

Leicester Away - Isn't This What It's Supposed To Be Like?

ISN’T THIS WHAT IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE?

OK I’m not claiming to be the only one who’s noticed it. In fact everyone’s been talking about it. Just how ‘together’ as a bunch are the current Norwich City team? When the dressing room camaraderie actually becomes palpable, when we in the stands can see it, can actually feel it, what a massive positive force it can prove to be.

At Leicester last night we saw one of the most memorable away performances for a long time. Others will report of the game itself – Wes’s brilliance, Wilbrahimovic’s first goal, Crofty’s energy, Foxy’s passing, Wardy and Zak’s aerial domination etc – but what will stay with me is the positive energy being generated by St. Paul and his men.

Wilbrahimovic has been waiting for that goal. He’s come close a few times, even in the last seconds against  Preston, and it must have been weighing on his mind. How good for him, then, not only to break his duck but to see the enthusiasm with which his team mates celebrated his success. Even after the final whistle he was being congratulated by those who had been on the bench. That’s what makes dressing rooms tick.

And Leon Barnett has been out since his hamstring injury against Reading. Yet when Holty smashed home the penalty last night the team goal celebration, though not original, was a tribute to Barnett’s recently born offspring. He has not been forgotten. He’s still part of things.

It is possible, too, for us to feel part of it all. Maybe the instant nature of communication today helps – we quickly hear interviews with manager and players for example- but I, and I have heard other fans say this, can never recall a time supporting City when I have felt quite so much that this is my team. I have written before about how our captain seems like one of us, an ‘ordinary hero’ and if he has the same effect on his team as he seems to have on the fans then I can understand why they are so motivated. The players need us to support them and they seem to want us to be part of things. Their goal celebrations, their energy, their responses to our support both on and off the pitch suggest a togetherness with us which is genuine. It is hard (and painful) to remember now Glenn Roeder’s alarming verbal assault on a fan at a formal meeting, his superior ‘detachment’ born of a completely different attitude to the fans from the one which Paul Lambert has generated.

At Leicester last night City fans enjoyed themselves. Perhaps forgetting the pressures of work, financial stresses, health worries or any of the other day-to-day issues which might touch our lives negatively we not only saw but almost became part of a great away performance. We cannot play for Norwich City, though there won’t be many of us who have not, at one time or another, dreamed of pulling on the yellow shirt, but we can sing, clap and roar our support for the team. We can urge them on with our energy to go a bit further, run that little harder and put in that extra tackle. The consequent performance on the field and the ‘feelgood factor’ off it, possibly explain just why we bother. We are football supporters for nights like last night. We put up with the bad times for exactly nights like Leicester and seasons like this.

Paul Lambert has consistently spoken of the importance of the fans. He then talks of the players. The fact that there is now a perceived relationship between the two is proving crucial at this critical time of the season. Our lives are being enhanced by their performances and their football is being powered by our support.

 Isn’t this what it’s supposed to be like?

An Interesting Day Out in Burnley 5th FEBRUARY 2011

AN INTERESTING DAY OUT IN BURNLEY

I have seen City play at Burnley nearly every time they have visited in the last ten years and until today I have always enjoyed myself. Outstanding memories include the wonderful 5-3 win in the promotion season when Matty Svensson scored a sublime header after a brilliant Drury/Huckerby move down the left and a rudderless City (with the hapless Jim Duffy in charge) parading John Hartson in what must surely be the biggest football shirt ever made.

Today, however, with the rain teeming down throughout, had an altogether different feel to it. Burnley FC have always enjoyed a pretty good reputation. As a lad I well remember the accolades the club enjoyed as something of a football ‘academy’. Great players like Jimmy Adamson, Andy Lochhead and Ray Pointer (the latter two were both present today, incidentally) earned the club almost universal respect in the sixties and last year’s sojourn into the Premier League seemed almost like the rebirth of a once great football club. Burnley is a small town and its football club has always been a ‘proper’ club – even allowing perhaps for an ill-fated escapade involving Paul Gascoigne.

BUT TODAY THINGS WERE DIFFERENT.

Right from the start the home fans displayed a hostility towards us which was born of ill feeling. Whether this was something to do with ‘Burnleygate’ and the whole Paul Lambert affair I don’t know, perhaps having tasted life with the mega-rich and still enjoying the benefits of parachute payments, Burnley supporters have forgotten their roots. From the first minute to the last they harangued our players, accusing us of cheating, dirty play and conning the referee. When Adam Drury received a yellow card for what was admittedly a rash challenge, albeit one to which he committed early on a slippery surface, the uproar was ridiculous. The henceforth constant booing of one of the most honest professionals in the game was disgraceful and, to my ears at least, went beyond what we would regard as the usual cat-calling of an opponent.

Simeon Jackson, too, was singled out for some pretty terrible abuse. From my seat in the main stand I reckon there might have been one or two occasions when he went to ground easily but honestly no more than almost all forward players do these days, including those of Burnley. Nonetheless he was labelled a cheat (expletives deleted) by most of those around me despite the fact that he almost never won a free kick, most crucially when he was clearly fouled as they won possession before their first goal.

However, the worst abuse was reserved for Holty. The Horse put in his usual shift – mixing it physically with the opposition’s big central defenders, backing in (as any forward must), standing his ground, making tackles, harrying and chasing. To top it off, of course, he scored a superb equaliser. To hear him accused of blatant thuggery moved me to take issue with one woman seated behind me. I pointed out to her that on at least two occasions Burnley players who had gone down and stayed down as if seriously injured were instantly up and running once a free kick had been given when initially it looked as though they were certain stretcher cases and that this was just as much cheating as anything any Norwich player had done. Her abuse did her no credit and spoke of zero understanding of the game.

The irony of the whole situation came when the Burnley winner ensued from a free kick given for a pretty innocuous Holt challenge which saw the Burnley player concerned sprawl headlong as if he had been shot.

St. Paul and his coaching team tried something different today, understandably perhaps opting to play the first half with all three of his recently excellent centre-backs in a back three with Adam and Cafu slightly more advanced than usual in a midfield five. It didn’t really work as Burnley with the excellent Eagles pulling the strings particularly exploited the space behind Drury to deliver a number of dangerous balls. That said we went in only one down and with Lambert changing things back to our favoured back four and diamond after the break City were superb.

You win some and you lose some (not many these days, though) and most of us accept that. Supporters are notoriously partisan and we accept that. It grieved me today, though, that followers of a once highly-respected and very English team should be so hostile and abusive towards another.

It wasn’t just the weather that was foul in Burnley today.

'BURNLEYGATE' - Lessons to be learned? 8h JANUARY 2011

‘BURNLEYGATE’ – Lessons to be learned?

Now that the dust has settled on the events which I will always think of as ‘Burnleygate’ and we have made our customary third round exit from the FA Cup I wonder if it is time to reflect on the events of Thursday and Friday last and to ask whether any lessons might have been learned.

Let’s be honest – twenty five years ago none of it would have happened. A club in Burnley’s position would not have had a website on which to go public about their approach to another club’s manager. Even if such an approach had been made, perhaps via a discreet phone call, the chances of it being almost instantly known across the globe would have been as real as the non-existent website. In other words this was a thoroughly modern phenomenon, a twenty-first century football occurrence, an internet driven, technology-fuelled rumourfest of  hitherto (as far as Norwich City are concerned) unprecedented proportions. We can only imagine what would have gone on had access to the internet existed in the troubled Chase era!

Yes, I was certainly caught up in it. Checking every few minutes to see what the situation was. Has he gone? What’s he said? What’s the latest on the Burnley message boards? What are the bookies saying now? Thousands of Canary fans, I am sure, were doing the same. Sky Sports says this. Radio Norfolk reports that. Here’s some footage of St. Paul driving his car. Does he look a bit fed up? He must be going mustn’t he?  

And at the end of it all...False Alarm. He’s going nowhere. He never was. He’s always been happy here. There’s  a job to do. He loves the fans. Wes has signed a new contract.

So have we learned anything or do we have to go through all this again the very next time another club casts envious glances in the direction of the Norwich City dugout? Well I think we ought to just take stock. Perhaps this is the result of a fanbase getting just a little too close to its manager. The love affair with Lambert started almost from day one – certainly from home game one, when a side invigorated by the goal scoring introduction of a youthful, hungry Korey Smith thrashed Wycombe in the same August Carrow Road sunshine which had seen humiliation two weeks earlier.

And as the romance developed there were just so many wonderful dates, particularly when Paul took us away from home – to Stockport, Southend, Colchester, Walsall and Charlton. We grew to love each other. We sang it to him and he whispered it to us in interviews and gestured it to us at games. Then another girl (albeit one dressed in claret and blue) fluttered her eyelashes in Paul’s direction and like a jealous, insecure partner we panicked. He told us there was nothing to worry about (‘I have nothing to add to the club’s statement’) but we would not accept it.

We wanted him to tell us straight that he did not like the girl from the North West and we pushed and pushed until we got that assurance. then we went to bed happy. Should we actually have shown a little more trust? Should we have respected our man just a little more? Are we so insecure that we panic every time another girl looks at him?

OK I know I have laboured that analogy rather too much so I’ll leave it. But the point is that we love our manager and he knows it. We now have to accept that he is a potentially great gaffer who is destined for the top and as long as he takes us as far as he can along the way, then when the day comes that he moves on we should send him on his way with thanks and good wishes (even if it is with heavy hearts).

We all know, I think, that Paul Lambert is a pretty private man and he will not have enjoyed the events of the last few days at all. Let’s learn to respect him and his privacy. I sincerely hope that if media speculation such as we saw recently occurs again anytime soon I for one will be able to resist the temptation to get caught up in the frenzy.

Never Mind The Qualiy - What's the Score? 28th DECEMBER 2010

‘NEVER MIND THE QUALITY....WHAT’S THE SCORE?’

It goes without saying that football is all about results. We hear it time and again from every direction as the latest beleaguered manager is placed under the media microscope. ‘X has three games to save his job,’ we are told, or ‘Y faces a must-win game’. Rarely, if ever, do we read that a manager faces the sack if his team don’t produce a fluent passing performance which is pleasing on the eye. I can’t remember the last time I heard of a manager avoiding the sack because his team played well despite losing consistently.

And yet there has been a chorus of opinion following today’s win against Sheffield United that we were lucky to get away with a win. Had John Ruddy not made a last-ditch save just before Wes’s hat-trick we would have drawn. Had the ref not been a little keen to point to the spot when Holty hit the deck for the first penalty we wouldn’t have taken the points. All of which might be absolutely right but hang on a minute! Remember when we battered Hull only to lose? What about the Portsmouth game? Does anybody recall the game at Forest when we played the team with one of the best home records in the country off the park, only to draw? When the Horse was sent off at Reading for pulling out of a challenge we were 3-1 up and cruising in a game from which we eventually took only a point.

Ask any player or manager and they’ll tell you that generally these things even themselves out over the course of a year. So what we should do is just have a look at the league table and observe that as the season nears its mid-point we aren’t doing too badly. There is no real need or purpose in bemoaning a lacklustre performance when all we need do is celebrate the result.

This does not mean that I don’t care how my team plays. Indeed having spent the time before our game today watching Aidy Hoofroyd’s Coventry show that the difference between the league leaders QPR and the Sky Blues might be only six league positions but is, in fact, mega light years in terms of quality of football, I am firmly of the opinion that our one time Youth Team manager must never again be allowed near any of our players at any level. What I mean is that provided we are trying to play decent football (‘in the Norwich way’) we should regard points gained from a below par performance in just the same way as those picked up from a blinder.

Throw into the mix the absence of some key players (Surman, Barnett, Ward, Drury, Lansbury) and today’s win takes on a different complexion. Paul Lambert and Ian Culverhouse have reintroduced several key qualities at Carrow Road which have been missing for some years and one of these is a vitally important depth of squad. No longer does the absence of one, two or even three players spell disaster. Look at the way Michael Nelson has returned to the side with purpose. Who’d have thought six or seven weeks ago that David Fox would be where he was today at the heart of our midfield? At the same time we now have flexibility during the game. Hence today we saw the sideline staff instigate not one but two rearrangements of system in an attempt to make things happen. This is absolutely vital in a seriously competitive side and for me is perhaps the single most impressive aspect of the Lambert regime. One of my saddest memories of our relegation slump is the sight of a helpless (clueless?) Gunny standing on the sideline, arms folded, as we slumped to a home defeat against an awful Sheffield Wednesday side. It is still possible, as we have seen this season, for us to suffer home defeats but it will never be as a result of inaction from the sidelines.

We now look ahead to the New Year with the prospect of a tilt at back-to-back promotions looking realistic. Whatever Paul Lambert does or does not do in the transfer window he has my support. And if he decides to start a game with Wesley on the bench then who am I or anyone else to question his planning?

And if we get a result as we push on into the second half of the season, remember.....NEVER MIND THE QUALITY...WHAT’S THE SCORE?

Radio Pundits - We deserve better! 21st December 2010

RADIO PUNDITS  - WE DESERVE BETTER!

Listening to Radio Five Live’s review of the football year tonight, ‘chaired’ by Mark Chapman and with contributions from Martin Keown, Phil Brown and the excruciating Steve Claridge, I was moved to think that we deserve better.

Perhaps it is simply bias that make me consider our local man, Chris Goreham, to be one of the best of the up and coming bunch of commentators. Having recently, owing to a geographical quirk, had to listen to our home game with Leicester City on BBC Radio Leicester, I can assure you that their version of Goreham is to football commentary what Michael Theoklitos is to goalkeeping, and we are lucky to have Goreham. Alongside him Neil Adams manages to steer a difficult path very skilfully – supporting the club, recognising weaknesses (not many these days) but managing to keep the lid on any potential hysteria.

But at the national level we are being sold short. I admire hugely most of Five Live’s full-time staff. The likes of Mike Ingham, John Murray, Conor McNamara, Guy Mowbray and Mark Pougatch are the very best at their trade. However, Alan Green is unfortunately becoming one of those who has forgotten his role and thinks he has a right to pontificate about all matters; in particular Green’s constant belittling of referees does the game no good (I once heard a caller to six-o-six take Green to task on this, asking the opinionated Ulsterman how many games he had refereed. ‘Oh no! I’m not having that!’ Green cried as he cut the caller off, recognising with all the instinct of a cornered politician that there was no way out.) One of the BBC’s brightest rising commentators, Darren Fletcher, seems to me to be suffering by association with the simply dreadful Robbie Savage.

Savage is a decent footballer if you like journeymen. However, his (or his agent’s) manipulation of the modern game to furnish him with a vulgar, brash lifestyle hardly qualifies him to comment on all matters to do with football to the listening public every Saturday evening on six-o-six. His constant refrain that footballers ‘deserve all the money they get’ is alarmingly simplistic and last Saturday his admission that had he been playing for Leicester against Ipswich he would have ‘gone down injured’ and done all that he could to ‘con the ref’ was shameful. In a game riddled with cheating and dishonesty on and off the field the BBC licence payer deserves better than to have to put up with such a poor example. His hectoring of callers to the programme and his loud put-downs of any who opposes his views have apparently led him to receive some sort of radio ‘award’. One wonders who makes such awards. What is perhaps most embarrassing is Savage’s inability to follow the thread of anything remotely resembling a coherent argument which repeatedly leads him to ‘shout down’ callers. Recently Fletcher seems to have joined Savage in a sort of laddish twosome and his own perceptive analysis of the game is in danger of being distorted.

Claridge is another journeyman turned pundit whose prattling, ungrammatical outpourings (whether on Five Live or ‘The Football League Show’) leave a great deal to be desired. I do not suggest that we must have only university English graduates on the airwaves but a certain level of basic articulacy is  surely required. Listening tonight to Phil Brown alongside Claridge deepened the gloom; this evening’s BBC strategy seemed to be to introduce a subject, let Claridge ramble, stumble, repeat and twist the language this way and that before passing over to Brown for more of the same but this time with a North Eastern accent, then expect the listener to glean some sense from it! This from the BBC – the premier broadcaster in the world.

Martin Keown was not my favourite player and indeed not all that he did on the field was exemplary. However, he represents, for me, a balanced view of the game, articulately expressed, which I find unusual amongst many of the former players Five Live uses. There are others who impress – Craig Burley and Pat Nevin to name a couple – but generally speaking this is an area at which the BBC needs to take a serious look. We deserve better!

GRANT HOLT - 'An Ordinary Legend' DECEMBER 20th 2010

GRANT HOLT - An Ordinary Legend

The word 'legend' is certainly overused these days and probably more in football circles than anywhere else. I guess what it has come to mean is somebody who will always be remembered by a club's fans.

At Norwich City we have a few 'legends' - Forbes, Keelan, Gunny, Iwan, Hucks - and probably there are many fans who would add their own to this list.

And now, I think, we are watching legendary status in the making. Grant Holt, 'The Horse', seems destined to enter the Carrow Road annals and what is so special about him is his ordinariness.

He's no super-model, is he, Holty? With the best will in the world he's probably a little too rotund to be a professional sportsman. And he's no Greek God to look at is he, if we're being honest?

A lot of highly-paid footballers spend a fortune at the hairdresser's but somehow I don't think Holty forks out a great deal on mane maintenance.

Much of Holty's game is a little ugly, I reckon. He lumbers down the channels and crashes into challenges - it's all a lot more bash than flash, isn't it? He wins a lot of free kicks but he gives a lot away, too, and picks up his fair share of cards.

And we've all come to love his goal celebrations. The most recent, a sort of full length backflop onto the Ricoh snow was about as elegant as an Ann Widdecombe waltz, and I'll never forget that one after his second goal at Stockport last year when he wanted to slide but didn't quite have the room and ended up dong a sort of clumsy roll as he approached the corner flag.

That's the thing about Holty for me; he isn't a poser - in fact, he's about as far away from one as you could get. Don't get me wrong. Don't think I don't notice his ability. Not only can he muscle his way into the box and win headers (Scunthorpe, Coventry), score from the tightest of angles (Reading, Coventry), but he can also be surprisingly quick-footed with a trick or two to get away from defenders.

But his greatest assets are those he has learned on the way up in his career. The early years spent in non-league and lower division football have made Holty into the horrible opponent he is for so many defenders.

He backs in, he uses his elbows, he moans at the ref, he falls over when he's only been nudged, he harries and presses and chases and runs and runs and runs. And, as Neil Warnock said earlier this year, 'He's clever, very clever..' Whether or not it's 'clever' or just a measure of the bloke, he certainly knows how to work the Canary fans.

His post-match interviews make you feel like part of the team, like he's taking you out onto the pitch or into the dressing room. This is not some distant being from the planet Superstardom, this is our man, 'The Horse', willing to bust a gut for us..which is why we are willing to travel, and pay, to see him play.

I recently heard a radio pundit say they thought that a lower end Premiership outfit should take a punt on Holty. I can see why but I'd be gutted if they did because I honestly believe that one day this Canary legend will lead out a City side in the Premier League.

It would devastate me if Holty left. I cannot think of any player more fitting to score a hat-trick against our fiercest rivals. That alone might secure his entry to the club's Hall Of Fame.

For me his name should always carry with it the suffix 'The People's Champion'.