Answers On A Postcard

Sometimes, some days, I have more questions than answers. Some days, everything seems as it should. Questions get raised, I have the answers. Today, I have the questions and I would welcome any answers.

I am watching Real Madrid v AC Milan this evening. Did anybody else see the fan run on the pitch in the first minute? He slips on the grass just around the halfway line, and allows the steward to catch him, who promptly kicks him and takes him down. Is that allowed even? Fair enough, it was wrong of the fan, but it was pretty unnecessary of the steward.

I went for a run this evening. Before running, I felt I needed something to snack on so I had a bag of crisps and a small piece if chocolate. I ran strong, just over 8km in 47 minutes and felt very good. Why did I need to eat crap before the race, making me feel guilty for eating it and thus running longer and faster? Would I have run the same if I had a cereal bar instead?

So, today we had the revelation that Wayne Rooney wants to leave Man Utd. I was pretty surprised to be honest at just how fractured the situation seems to be. I cannot remember a player under Sir Alex, a world class player at that, want to leave the club at the peak of his game. The word peak may be debatable based on this season, but you know what I mean. I have met Rooney a couple of times, and I have to say I am not his biggest fan as a person. And nope, it is nothing to do with him leaving Everton – that £30m was essential. So, where does he go from here? I would be amazed if it was Chelsea or Man City, and do Real need him? My guess is Real sign him, and Higuain makes way.

I was at a thoroughly enjoyable Merseyside derby on Sunday. A deserved win for my boys and I was proud of them. Liverpool are really struggling right now and all jokes aside, I do actually feel sorry for Roy Hodgson. He had limited money to spend in the summer in a difficult situation. I accept his signings have not turned out to be successes just yet, but at the same time, I think it is grossly unfair to judge signings when it is still October. Fernando Torres has not been fit for six months and is a shadow of his former self. Hodgson inherited a number of players who were unhappy such as Mascherano and Aquilani and had to be shipped out. The whole situation was far from perfect, and I can’t quite understand the reaction of some of the fans. Would anybody else have done better? Who will Liverpool attract that can improve things? I say stick, not twist.

I was on the receiving end of a pretty blatant fib last weekend and it wasn’t the only one I’ve heard recently. I was in a hotel that I go to fairly regularly, and the lady on reception said that the lift was out of order. It has literally been out of order for the past six months. I don’t really care to be honest, as I am perfectly fine taking the stairs. However, when I made a joke remark about it not working a single time I had been in the last few months, she said it had been working fine. It was a fib, and unnecessary. There are some times when one just needs to hold one’s hand up and accept it. As said, far from major, but why did she need to fib to me?

I read a headline on BBC’s website today – ‘French strikers step up pressure’. Isn’t Laurent Blanc muttering to himself ‘If only’??

A 20-year-old American Football college player was paralysed this weekend after a tackle he made went badly wrong. My heart goes out to Eric LeGrand and I hope he can somehow make a recovery. There was a horrendous collision in the NFL also this weekend with DeSean Jackson coming off worst in a sickening clash. I won’t post links, but you will find both on youtube if you wish. The question of concussions and injuries like this have been hotly debated in the last 18 months in NFL. The NFL have now decided to suspend players committing such tackles. I agree with it, but why does it take such horrific injuries to happen before taking such action? This is nothing new.

Mohave Mirage

It is 3.30pm and I am in the Mohave Desert. I have been walking for days, it feels like weeks, months, years. Little food, little water, I do not really know who I am any more. I don’t feel like my old self, don’t look like my old self. It is an out of body experience that is hard to describe unless you have experienced it yourself. I’m emotional but numb, physically and mentally. I can’t talk. There is nobody to talk to, and I don’t have the energy to talk even if I could. I haven’t seen anybody for miles, nothing living anyhow, I haven’t seen any sign of life or any landmarks or anything. Is there any end to this journey….wait. What can I see in the distance? There’s a building. An old dusty old building. I get closer, I see a sign. The signs says ‘We sell Boddingtons here – barrels and barrels in stock!’ The first sign of life I have seen for miles and they sell my favourite beer. I pinch myself, I am awake. I cannot believe this. If this is the way I leave this world, let the last mouthful I take be a gulp of room temperature Boddingtons. Heck, it could be even be cold, I’d take that after being out in 45c degrees heat for so long. I break into what feels like a sprint but I know deep down it is only a jog. The pub is drawing ever closer and I can see the door only metres away. I stop and pause, can this really be happening. I rub my eyes and re-open them. The pub….the pub is now miles away in the distance. It is getting further and further away.

Me and my girl run once or twice week together. We need to do more, and sometimes run separately if our schedules do not suit. We have one particularly route that we do every so often – our apartment, to Lutry and then back along the lake to Ouchy. It is approximately 9km, and it can be shortened or extended depending on whether HJ feels like Paula Radcliffe, and whether I feel like Hicham El Guerrouj. The first 3km is reasonably pleasant, a fair amount of it is a slow downhill run which breaks my sensitive body into the run slowly. I can deal with that. From around 5-8km, we run along the longest road in the world. The Mohave Desert. We run along the road until we reach a set of traffic lights eventually and we turn left at that point and down to the lake. When I run, I look for milestones and landmarks, it keeps me motivated. On this long stretch of small inclines and bumps, there are four sets of traffic lights. I am struggling at this point and I hope and pray that each and every one of them is the final one, which means the run is almost over and there is light at the end of the tunnel. Disappointment comes with each traffic light which does not signal the left turn. Then, we run round a corner and see the lights. The lights. I see them now. This time, the lights do not disappear in the distance. There is life back in these old heavy legs of mine, and I can see the lights.

Nobody said getting in shape was easy and nobody said running was pleasant. Well, maybe they did, but it wasn’t Robert Christian Esteva. Still, the end point is very enjoyable. Sitting there, having accomplished a reasonably solid run, is a great feeling. It is that final sip of Boddingtons, that is just so sweet after the trials and tribulations to get to that stage. I will be making more regular visits to the Mohave in the coming weeks – don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.

Random Sporting Thoughts

Plenty of excitement around the start of the NHL season – I am in my element at this time of year with all my favourite sports up and running. I expect the usual super powers to return to the top and fight for the Stanley Cup this year – I expect a winner from the Red Wings, Capitals and the Penguins. I feel as if injuries really hampered the Red Wings last year, while I believe the Olympics were not particularly beneficial for the other two especially. If pushed, I’ll take a punt on the Capitals.

I am genuinely excited about boxing in November and December. Some top class fights scheduled and hoping to get to the Katsidis v Marquez fight which could be an absolute gem. Khan v Maidana should be fascinating, while Froch and Abraham will be a corker too. Then there is Pacquiao v Cheatarito which should be fun to watch also. Happy days.

Commonwealth Games in Delhi. I’m not there, and I do not know anybody who is. That said, the media coverage has been incredible negative and hard not to believe that there are some major issues out there. Hearing the swimmers fall ill due to an alleged contamination of the practise pool is pretty shocking, and that is just one of a number of issues reported. All that in mind, just how important are these games these days? Not very I’m afraid to say.

I was saddened to hear about Rugby League player Terry Newton committing suicide a couple of weeks ago. A great player who was serving a suspension for taking an illegal substance. So sad that nobody seemed to be aware of the troubles he was going through. Maybe a reminder and wake up call for the Rugby Football League and many other federations to improve their care and support of suspended, injured and retired athletes.

Another star cyclist reported to have failed a drugs test, and a handful of other riders also. I have the utmost respect for the UCI and there is no doubt in my mind that they lead the way in sport as the most rigorous and ruthless drug-testers around. At the same time, I cannot help but feel that they are killing cycling. Actually, it is the cyclists who are killing it. How many federations cover up positive drug tests, match-fixing in order to protect their interests? I would guess at a fair number of them. Sad, but very likely to be true.

Looking forward to a Canadian Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday and Week 5 of the NFL season. I’ll go on record and offer my tips – may as well revel in my success or look like a total muppet.
Bengals -6.5
Atlanta -2.5
Texans to win and -2.5
Saints -6.5
Chargers -5.5 (Sorry dude, what do I know?)
Lions/Rams over 42.5 (my favourite bet of the round)

Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

How many times has the title of that song been appropriate for moments in our lives? I consider myself pretty good at spitting the word out but I won’t pretend it is easy. I don’t think it is easy for anybody, but I do personally feel it is better to say it that not.

One of my favourite bands of all time broke up recently few months back. I consider myself a pretty loyal guy and I stand by my bands and artists regardless of what anybody has to say about them. For some reason Barry and Jon Bon seem to be on the receiving end of a fair bit of stick recently and I cannot for the life of me understand why. Some folks owe them an apology. They have stood by me for years and in turn, I’ll repay their faith and support them. That’s what love is about. So, when I heard that The Killers had broken up a few months back, I felt pretty let down. What had I done to deserve that? It was harsh to say the least.

Thankfully, it seems a temporary break – a Ross and Rachel ‘break’. I was heartened by that news, coupled with the announcement that front man Brandon Flowers was going solo while the other boys took a break. Heartened but concerned. I’ve seen this happen so many times to good people. They get all carried away thinking that can go it alone and produce the goods, and fail miserably. I feared for Brandon I have to admit. Maybe I lost a bit of faith. Jon taught me to Keep It and maybe I lost it.

Brandon I apologise.

Sunday night, HJ and I went to see Brandon in Zurich, and Brandon nailed it. Great energy as you would expect from The Killers chap, but a slight twist of country and randomness meshed in. In a fabulously small and intimate venue called Kaufleuten, it was the perfect setting for a quality gig. The album, Flamingo, is a gem and I have yet to hear anybody say a bad word about it. My favourite tunes, enhanced by the gig, are Magdalena, Jilted Lovers & Broken Hearts and Hard Enough. No complaints about any on the album, and I recommend it.

So the gig was due to start at 8pm which was handy as the last direct train was set to depart at 10.04. Early starts for both of us this morning so it made sense. Well, my naivety and inexperience of these small venues and gigs was exposed. Brandon came on stage at 9.30, ten minutes before we had to leave for the train. Not only would it be a case of leaving early, but virtually leaving after two songs was not really an option especially given my recently tarnished reputation. So we bit the bullet and saw it through and rolled into bed at 2am, cream-crackered but happy. A great gig, and thoroughly enjoyable.

So Brandon and I are back on after our date last night. I feel a bit bad for any doubt I had. I cannot wait for the Killers to rekindle their magic, but solo Brandon is pretty darn good. He moves on to the UK soon, and I would recommend any folks to grab a ticket if you can. Brandon is even heading to Leeds for a gig at the O2 Academy – after my last blog about my library in Leeds, he thought he would make an appearance. And he is going to nail it.

These Days

September has been an interesting month. Interesting and challenging at the same time. I like interesting things, and I like challenges. There’s been travel….from Boston to Denver, and every town in between. Well, not exactly, but it’s a musical reference which only the very special will recognise and acknowledge. Mine reads more like St Tropez to Lausanne, and Basel, Nyon, Liverpool, London, Leeds, Paris and Oslo in between. Fast and fun, but happy to spend a couple of weeks in Lausanne now and recharge.

There’s been plenty of work. Busy times at work with Euro qualifiers, Matchday 1 and 2. A couple of trips to Basel have given me some good experience and met some cool new people. More Basel fun in October and November and I am looking forward to both those visits.

There’s been the birth of a new project. This is a fun one, but one I am very excited about. It is the start of a number of projects that are going to born in the coming months and who knows where they will lead. I almost feel pregnant, it is probably the closest I will come to feeling that way. Giving birth to a number of little babies, watching them grow and hopefully succeed. I don’t like nor deal with unsuccessful stuff, and I won’t stop until these babies bloom. Failure and obstacles are overrated.

I decided to take a new approach in September. I have never been afraid of the principle of change and I am not one to dwell and labour on things which are not working. That is why I decided to cross dress in September. I was fed up with the usual mundane clothes and I thought I would mix things up a little bit and wear HJ’s clothes. The story on Monday actually goes something like this:

7am - Wake up after another average sleep. Sleep is overrated.
7.45am – Packed for Basel, dressed and coffee traveller prepared.
8am – Last minute checks for anything missing for the next two days in Basel. Check, check, and check.
8.15am – Final preparations, and leave the house with HJ.
8.20am – Jump on the bus with HJ to the station for me, to work for HJ.
8.22am – HJ asks me if I am wearing her coat.
8.23am – The label says yes.
8.24am – I come to terms with the fact that I am going on official business in cold Basel for two days, in a lady’s coat.
8.30am – Go to the post office
8.45am – Take the train to Basel

Fast forward two days:

3am – Go to bed after finishing work
9am – Ignore alarm ringing in my ear and roll over
10am – Wake up after another average sleep (sleep is overrated), throw my lady’s coat back on and hit the road

Outcome

Reputation still in tact and potentially enhanced as a new leader in fashion

I am now ready to face October and more challenges. If you’re having a tough time, throw on your lady’s or boy’s coat and ride the waves. It does wonders.

Pain is inevitable, Suffering is optional

If you happen one day to be fortunate enough to be invited to Leeds, or even just a visit to Lausanne, you’ll be afforded the opportunity to see the Esteva library. Don’t expect to see Chaucer, I had more than enough of muppets like him at school. Don’t expect to find the latest crime thriller by Patricia Cornwell – coming from Leeds and having lived in Liverpool and Barcelona, I’ve first-hand experience of that kind of stuff. Apart from the Dexter series, you will find a predominantly sports-autobiography based collection. There are plenty of other gems in there, but either way, it is sport pretty much. That will not surprise most people who know me, and if it does, then we need to get to know each other a bit better and you need to buy me a drink.

I strongly lean towards autobiographies. I am fascinated to learn about the sportsmen and women that I admire and the psychology behind what makes them what they are. I mentioned it in a previous blog post, but my recent reading of Andre Agassi’s book was a real eye-opener, and gave me a completely different perspective of him.

Sat on my bookshelf in Lausanne is one particular book written and given to me by a friend of mine when it came out gift just over a year ago. It is called Englischer Fussball by Raphael Honigstein. In one particular chapter, it details a trait which he argues is very English – the need to suffer unnecessarily, taking the long route, and even taking a subconscious enjoyment from it. Being faced with adversity or some form of pain – physical or psychological – and being able to show that you can truck through it, survive and overcome it. I know there are certain elements that sit somewhere in my mindset along these lines, and I think it is the same with many folks. Whether it is a typically English thing, I am not so sure, I know others who are similar. It is not a case of eliciting sympathy or attention, it is purely a mechanism that works in the brain, probably to build psychological strength. That is my logic anyhow, maybe some folks think differently. Unquestionably some folks like to suffer and then have the hard luck story to tell – it is a similar thing in the sense that telling those stories is just as key to them as anything else and they thrive from it.

It is far from being a positive characteristic. I tend to avoid it at work for example – one would probably be fired in no time for procrastinating and taking inefficient routes. However, it is one which we can so easily fall into and even take some pleasure from. This may sound totally strange to some people also. Why suffer in any shape or form, or waste time, when it is completely unnecessary? There is no real logic behind any of it, I guess it is just how some people are and I know there are random parts of me like that.

The Blues and the Bees

Tuesday night was a pretty special evening for me as Brentford played Everton in the Carling Cup at Griffin Park. To most people, it sounds pretty unglamorous and it was on the whole, but special nonetheless. It was a slightly surreal evening as the team I have supported since 1985 were up against the Bees, where I was a Director on the Board for three years.

I flew back to the UK for the game, and a reasonably unpleasant dental appointment, and it was a fantastic evening. Sadly, the Toffeemen’s woes continue and they were beaten on penalties. It was another pretty poor performance in truth and while they were the better side, the Bees missed a penalty. David Moyes has a fair task on his hands to get this season turned around pretty swiftly. All pretty disappointing from that perspective, but on the flip-side, it was A the Carling Cup and B. there is no other team I would rather my boys be giant-killed by than the Bees. At this point, I should go on about the Cup being a Mickey Mouse competition and nobody being interested in it…..

The atmosphere was fantastic – understandably as this was a huge game for Brentford and Everton brought 2,000 of the 9,000 fans down for this one. In a stadium of just over 10,000, it was almost a sell out and it made for a close intimate atmosphere. Seeing what it meant to the fans and the directors was great. Having been on the board, I know just how important these kind of games are to a club the size of Brentford – every year we prayed that the team could get to the stages of the cup where the Premier League teams joined the competition and that we would draw them for the financial windfall that comes. Beating one of them is all the sweeter – even a diehard Evertonian can appreciate that.

Returning to Griffin Park certainly brought back plenty of memories. It was the first time in 16 months since I resigned from the board that I was going back – and needless to say, I received some glory hunter comments. How anybody can call an Everton fan a glory supporter is beyond me, but I take the point! It also allowed me to see some familiar faces and catch up with two old friends – and I’ll emphasise the old PW, I now know you read my blog!

People often ask me how it was being on the board of a football club. I often say it is far from being as glamorous as it sounds. I suspect being on the board of a top Premiership team has slightly more glamour about it, though I suspect Bill Kenwright and Sir Philip Carter were not thinking that last night. For me, my three years at the club were generally quite passive and I spent most of my BFC time observing protecting the interests of the person I was representing on the board rather than playing a hugely active role. Given I had little time outside of work and commuting, this was my main priority, but it was an incredible learning experience. One which I certainly would not have gone through had it been a Premier League club and one which I would not take back at all. From onions on the burgers to what happens on the pitch, I was exposed to everything. Of course, everybody is most interested in the football side of things, the team, the transfers – everybody playing the role of manager and offering their views on who we should buy, sell, start and drop.

When I joined the club, they were going through a pretty severe rough patch having sold several key players to balance books and replacing them with cheap alternatives. Surprisingly enough, it didn’t work. Things have improved in the last 18 months however since they have received investment. I also note quite a shift in perspective from the fans too – not just from last night, but on the message boards and forums I read. There is much more positivity around and less focus on wanting to shoot the directors. I was always pretty fireproof given that I was representing the main investor at the club, but I was always a little taken aback at some of the criticism some fellow Directors received. Having gotten to know them on a personal level, it was tough to understand – regardless of mistakes being made, there is not a bad person among the current crew with all of them having BFC at heart. I was delighted for them after the game, they deserve it for the time and money they put into the club – with never a hope of getting any of it back out.

Even after the nine hours sleep in the last two days, the toothache, two delayed flights and a miserable loss, I’ve enjoyed the journey and I am pleased for the Brentford boys. Hopefully the result for both teams will spark them in the league where both are in a similar situation and need to improve. The next game cannot come quick enough for Everton and me.

What I have learned this week

Calgary really is an insane city – snow in September already. Easy to think it sounds so cool, but only when you experience do you feel sorry for those who have to survive it.

I have realised that a pair of jeans that fit properly make a massive difference to one’s appearance.

I learned this week that perhaps I do have a slight man-crush on Brandon Flowers – I cannot wait for his concert in Zurich in October.

I realised that I actually welcome injuries to boxers when I cannot go to a big fight that I want to see and one guy has to pull out injured meaning I could possibly go when it is rearranged. I’m not proud of that one but it is true.

I am not one for doom and gloom and I actually consider myself to be quite a positive person. However, when you think something cannot get any worse, the truth is, it can.

I am going to Oslo next weekend and I am genuinely excited. Never been up anywhere up there before, and I cannot wait.

I remembered this week that people often believe newspapers when they want to believe them, and do not believe them when they do not want to.

I learned this week that I do still need to lose some weight and a couple of love handles. Half marathon training starts Sunday.

I learned this week that footballers do cheat on their WAGS, but they are sometimes set up – read Peter Crouch. His credit card was stolen and he was going to collect it in the hotel in Madrid, and it was portrayed as an affair.

I learned this week that there is a new star blogger in town.

Bouncebackability

One trait among athletes and in people in general that I admire the most, is the ability to hold it together psychologically when things are going tough and to fight back. The team that is losing and fights back to get a result, the boxer who has been whipped for 11 rounds and knocks his opponent out in the 12th, the guy down the street who has been diagnosed with cancer and fights through it and survives. The problem however was how to describe the process without too many words – there was no particular adjective to explain it.

A couple of years ago, a new word was introduced into the English dictionary following a campaign on Soccer AM – one of my favourite television shows – and it finally filled the void. Bouncebackability was born.

This was no more evident than on Saturday when HJ and I were on Merseyside for Everton v Man Utd. My boys played quite well apart from some comedy defensive moments, largely due to a poor performance from Sylvain Distan. 3-1 down with only injury time remaining, the Blues somehow managed to bounce back and score two goals in the 92nd and 93rd minutes to draw 3-3. The whole place erupted…or so we heard. I am not proud of this, in fact I am ashamed, but I insisted that we leave on 90 minutes. I was fighting off a cold, and was fed up at 3-1 and figured the boys had no chance with Utd in control of the game. It’s a rule I have always abided by – never leave before the final whistle. However, over the last couple of years, with a fairly fast paced lifestyle, I have developed a rule – I will leave on 90 minutes if there is a difference of two goals or more. Well it well and truly bit my butt this time, and we were victims of a severe case of Bouncebackability.

We experienced another example of Bouncebackability recently. My adorable little niece Mia had her first day at school around ten days ago. The little monkey was so excited about her first day and was having a great first day until she fell off the climbing frame and broke her collarbone. She had a rough day and a half, but then she just seemed so positive and brave about it all. Granted, she was enjoying a sweet and ice cream diet, but I was amazed at how she dealt with it all. She was on good form and she had the ability to bounce back amazingly well. I guess kids have greater recovery powers – I don’t think I would have been so lively as she was.

I would hazard a guess that anybody who has seen the show Soccer AM knows all about Bouncebackability. I would also guess that most folks here in Switzerland and anywhere else outside of the UK have never heard of it. Well, now is the time to adopt it. Throw it into a conversation when appropriate and spread the word.

Snipplings

HJ and I were in Nice airport last week and we people-watched for a while. Some sad farewells and some joyous hellos as folks watched their loved ones depart or arrive. Made me think that Airports are actually Churches – full of ups and downs and not too much middle ground. There is either great delight (weddings, christenings – arrivals) or there is sadness (the funerals and farewells). There are even folks who pray in both too!

So, the UFC have decided what better way to celebrate my 31st birthday than to schedule a huge event in the one place I have dreamed about watching a big fight for years now – December 11th, Montreal. I have no alternative but to go, and direct flights from Geneva make it all the more appealing. GSP on the card….what more could I ask for? Who is coming? I'll buy first round!

NFL season starts on Thursday and I am going to go on record with my Superbowl prediction. Ravens v Packers and I think the Ravens win the shootout.

I worked at the Switzerland v England game yesterday. My observations: Jo Hart showed his first signs of the vulnerability this season – it will be interesting to see whether it is a sign of things to come. Jagielka – I love this guy as much as any, but I think some of the praise is over exaggerated….I do not feel completely comfortable with him at this level and want to see the same against top class international strikers before being convinced by him. Some English journalists are pretty horrendous people. I expected the Swiss more than anybody to clamp down on smoking in the stadium but they were very relaxed about it. First half was one of the best halves I have seen from an England team for some while.

Read a whole lot on holiday last week – I have missed reading in recent months. Book to recommend – Andre Agassi’s autobiography. Very interesting read, but very much based on his psychology and what made him the guy he is. Far more emphasis on that than the actual sport – depends on whether that side of it interests you. It did me. One point in the book where he beat his dad at tennis when he was 9-years-old reminded me of when I used to play badminton with some mates after school with our English teacher who was pretty sharp. He used to hammer us every time, took no mercy, but I gradually started winnings points. After weeks and months of training and practicising and plenty of beatings on court, I eventually beat him and the feeling was amazing. Which leads me on to another book recommendation – this one comes via a colleague. Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell – The Story of Success. He discusses the “10,000-Hour Rule", claiming that the key to success in any field is, to a large extent, a matter of practicing a specific task for a total of around 10,000 hours.

Footballers and infidelity – do they genuinely think they can get away with it? I will never understand the logic of some many of them. The irony is, the wives/fiancées/girlfriends are generally prettier than the ones they are cheating on them with. I feel sorry for the intelligent and clever footballers who are honest and loyal but probably stereotyped as being just as thick as so many of their colleagues.