The April issue of When Saturday Comes was a little late in turning up at Chez CSTB, which is a crying shame. I’ll blame my local letter carrier for denying me the pleasures of WSC’s provocative examination of whether or not it is permissible to call Spurs fans “yiddos” (regardless of whether or not they’ve “reclaimed” the pejorative for themselves), along with fascinating recollections of the 1980′s football fanzine boom.
As always, however, some of WSC’s funniest bits are at the expense of the pundits and commentators that make Fran Healy seem downright scholarly by comparison. From WSC’s Simon Tyers.
Ian Wright’s survived the BBC cull perhaps with half an eye on his light entertainment contract, even though his seated shifting and weaving is approaching attention deficit disorder proportions. Mark Lawrenson (above) should retain his loft position, too, despite contriving with John Motson, to cover the Liverpool v Manchester United FA Cup tie in as obtuse a manner as possible. John opened with the curious gambit that Liverpool’s previous Cup win over United “predated the invention of Chanel No.5″, a connective milestone that I’m sure was at the forefront of everyone’s mind, then conceeded that Peter Crouch’s goal “may have even hit the inside of the post” just in case we thought the ball had propelled itself over by means of voodoo. But they upped the ante with a bravura performance around Alan Smith’s injury, Lawrenson wondering first if he had “dislocated something with the force of the shot” before diagnosing from the monitor close-up a “sort of loose” leg and that it was his right. Mark Lawrenson is 47 years old. If he hasn’t learned to tell left from right by now, there truly is no hope for him.