Competition: Cliches
Competition
Lucy Vickery
Wednesday, 23rd June 2010
Lucy Vickery presents the latest competiition
In Competition No. 2652 you were invited to submit an extract from the autobiography of a sportsman packed with as many clichés as possible.
The World Cup will no doubt provide a feast of words and phrases that have had the life squeezed out of them, as well as ample opportunity to mock players and pundits for their unimaginative use of language. But no less a literary giant than Kazuo Ishiguro has come to the defence of footballing clichés, describing them as poignant and beautiful. ‘At the end of the day’ was singled out by the Booker prize-winning author as an expression of stoic ruefulness that comes close to reflecting the true human condition.
That and the classic ‘Early doors’ (which, I was disappointed to discover, was not in fact invented by Ron Atkinson but dates back to 1902, when it was used to indicate the moment when theatre doors were opened for the riff-raff to scramble for the unreserved seating) featured prominently in an entry in which you all gave 110 per cent.
P.C. Parrish, John Plowman and John Phillips were unlucky losers. The winners, printed below, get £25 each. The bonus fiver belongs to Bill Greenwell.
In a situation like deadball situations, I was absolutely up for it ten times out of ten. In a nutshell, that was what did the business, because, frankly, when all’s said and dusted, you get stuck in or the crowd goes mental. You have to pick and choose your moments, which you can’t just pick and choose, and show what your foot is made of. You practise until perfect, like your life depended on it, then absolutely step forward, and curl it like there was no tomorrow. And I was blessed with two feet, actually: I could score from all over the park, and I used to drop it into the box as sweet as nuts in May, and someone could do the business, or the keeper could watch like a kid as it sailed over him. Football’s about that, taking your chances, turning on a sixpence, heads or tails.
Bill Greenwell
I’ve lived the dream. Been lucky, you might say. But I say, in this game you make your own luck. And that means keeping your head up, not losing your bottle when your opponents are setting out their stall and asking all the questions. There was a time at City when the manager had lost the dressing room and morale was on the floor. But we knew we were too good to go down and the lads still gave 110 per cent in a bid to gatecrash the top four. It was a big ask, but we made it. The form book went out of the window, meaning next season we were in Europe. There are no easy games there. We got played off the park by Dynamo Bogrol. But at the end of the day football’s a funny old game. In 90 minutes you can go from hero to zero.
Basil Ransome-Davies
To be honest, I didn’t give 110 per cent at school but I stepped up to the mark when necessary and, at the end of the day, I take a lot of positives from it. My teens were not an easy ride as it’s not a level playing field out there and leaving home was a whole new ballgame. However, the team was like my family and my philosophy, learned at the University of Hard Knocks, is that even if you don’t get the breaks it’s not over ’til the fat lady sings. My life is a tale of two halves and, to be fair, I look at myself in the mirror with my head held high. Obviously, I’m not one to rest on my laurels while wearing the shirt and in the next chapter I’ll explain how I raised the bar while still taking one game at a time.
Jenny Lowe
As a former champion, I’m often asked how I throw my darts. It’s a good question. At the end of the day, everyone has their own style. The fact of the matter is: it all comes down to consistency. If you throw with exactly the same movement all the time, you can’t go wrong. The reason being that aiming with a nice, smooth, even motion makes your throw more accurate and means you focus on the end-game. Let’s face it, a good follow-through puts more points up on the board. I’m not being funny when I say that a miss in darts is as good as a mile. Basically, every player is different, and it’s up to each of us to make our own choices. Just put in the effort and give it 110 per cent.
John O’Byrne
In the final analysis, say what you like about Ron Rothery, he was old school, more father than manager, taught us to work hard and play harder but always as a team. We played some absolutely liquid football back then. It was all or nothing at Rovers; when you won you were over the moon, when you lost you were sick as a parrot. But in football, as in life, you can’t stand still, you have to take it to the next level.
So transferring to Bognor was a revelation for me, a chance to work with real icons like Darren Fick and Wayne Get who didn’t just play football but lived it too, guys who gave 110 per cent effort 110 per cent of the time
Maybe I forgot you’ve got to take it one game at a time, but we had some fantastic laughs. Besides, if you don’t shoot, you can’t score, right?
Adrian Fry
The fact of the matter is, without a doubt, it was not all beer and skittles. To be perfectly honest with you, and certainly not pulling any punches, it was sometimes tough at the top. But as I’ve said before, football is a funny old game. In a very real sense, one minute you’re up, the next you’re down. Come hell or high water, I wanted to win, make a fist of it. I had to get stuck in, take the bull by the horns, so to speak. I’d always harboured a long-felt desire to play for England but I knew it would be no foregone conclusion. I had to give it my best shot. The chance came and I was over the moon. It was a dream come true. Now the world was at my feet, literally and truly.
Sid Field
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