The End

That's all folks...

Bergan Bargain

Always been a fan of Norway. They used to give Hartlepool loads of players back in the 1990s. A lasting memory of this second Viking invasion was Jan Ove Pedersen netting against Darlo, prompting burly blokes dancing down the terracing clad in daft plastic horned helmets.

The players were good. But the novelty Norse inspired hattage not so much. However the Norwegians fared much better in the fashion stakes with this wintry gem. Bergans of Norway have been making quality jackets since the war, protecting the wearer against the harsh Scandinavian climate but not against Nazi bullets. This one arrived from our North Sea neighbours via vintage stockist Too Hot for a bargain price and in Hartlepool United royal blue as well...

Pools v Sheffield United (JPT)

Victoria Park. Under the lights. Ten quid in. Pie (balti). Pint. Another one. Usual spot. Love terracing. JPT. 7pm KO. Sheffield United.  We're 3-5-2. Four minutes in. One nil down. Sixes and sevens. Heavy rain. No atmosphere. Good save. Good save. Good save. Where's the defence. Under the cosh. HT. 0-1.

Another pint. Chat. Swear. Laugh. We're 4-4-2. Look comfortable. Look very comfortable. Look better. Than them. Giving them a game. Might get back into this. Through ball. Rakish on it. Square pass. Fenwick. FENWICK. YES. Bouncing. Bobbing. On the stairs. Swear. Cheer. One all.

On top. Going forward. They're League One. We're League Two. But we're at home. We're better. Ooooooh. Close. Flashed by. Atmosphere now. Swear. Clap. Shout. Pools!

3 mins added. One on one. Save. Swear. Corner. Tenth. Need 11. Bet off. Whistle. FT. 1-1. Penalties. Our end. Their keeper. Boo. Goal (us). Cheer. Wave arms. Shout. Goal (them). Quiet. Miss (us). Swear. Blast it. Next time. Wave arms. Goal (them). Swear. Only going one way. Ends 3-4. Out. Again. Still. Some positives. Value for money.

It's a simple game.

Hat Weather

It's the first of September. Officially Autumn. Hat season. So let's celebrate with some high profile hattage...

Football Map

There's no place like home. Dorothy knew it. She must've known there's no place like your football clubs home either, as she (well, We Are Dorothy) has recreated the names of British football stadia into a quirky map. So she'll be able to find her way from Oz to Carrow Road.

Over 500 names are included, the majority famous football grounds but also 'map-tly' named training grounds (i.e Platt Lane), club names (Nottingham Forest) and players (David Rocastle). Hartlepool are represented twice with Victoria Park and Rink End making an appearance.

It's an inspired walkthrough famous names and places of British football. Available for £25 which given the match day prices for the majority of stadiums is a bargain.

Casual Co-op

The Overlook. That hat sought the world over from horror film fans to your above average dresser at Nottingham Forest. Anyway I've got one and it'll piss you off threefold -

1) Given the inflation busting prices on eBay I got this for mates rates (a score) via CC forum.

2) I've never seen The Shining.

3) I'll probably hardly wear it.

Anyway I've got one so hatters keep hating.

Next up not such a success story. Been after a grey sweat for a bit and when the chance came for a Lazyitis sweatshirt I was on it quicker than you could say Wimoweh. However the XL is still a bit snug so it's listed in the GoodNorthern shop. Fastest fingers first. Still worth posting about though on this Happy Monday...

And finally to complete the CC love in a bit pin badge love - even more so as This Thing of Ours a freebie from Mr Love himself Hess the Horse. To complete the rout the recently-pulled-due-to-a-potential-court-injunction-and-now-rarer-than-a-green-edger-on-a-Nick-Love-Generation-wannabe Dead Hard pin. The funny thing is I'm not, it says I am. Now that I've mentioned I'm not (even though it says I am), must be terribly post modern...

Subbuteo Adverts

Spennymoor Town vs Hartlepool United (again)

Fast becoming an annual pre season fixture between these two sides, it was up to Brewery Field yet again to see how Pools new signings (all ten of them) are gelling against one of the regions best non league clubs.

Suns out. A fiver in. Beer in hand on the touch line. A good fair game. I'm thinking this is what football should be about, enjoyable and inexpensive, in a ramshackle ground full of character, a million miles (and pounds) away from the plush all-seaters at the top of the pyramid.

Pools are playing a strong side and Spenny realise fairly early on that they're in for an uncomfortable afternoon and resort to tough late challenges. Pools left winger cops a fair few kicks but United remain unflustered by shifting attention to the right, and this tactic pays dividends when a floating ball in from the RHS is met by last seasons top scorer Scotty Fenwick precision head. One nil.

Spenny's unit of a goalkeeper, a typical beefy non league custodian, makes a couple of excellent saves, one from a cross-come shot from the right wing and a solid free kick into the top corner. Pools should be a few up but the whistle blows for HT, leading to another age old tradition lost from the modern game - fans changing ends. We leave the Football League standard covered terrace behind the goal and perch on the more modest pavement and black and white painted fence surroundings behind the other.

Time for a thumb through the programme. The editor must be a Poolie on the quiet as an extensive proportion of the well made two quid issue is devoted to Hartlepool - a full sixteen pages devoted to Pools including an expansive club history and plenty detail on the pen pics. And then there's a further two pages on Pools programmes from yesteryears. Nice.

It's blustery in the second half and Pools are kicking up hill on the lopsided pitch so the fluidity of the movement is halted. Plus there's been a full roster change with all starting eleven subbed after 45 mins. The second string huff and puff but not as strongly as the cross field gusts, so have to rely on half chances. Trialist Fergus Bell takes on of these to extend Pools lead.

With the game all but won Pools compete at a leisurely pace, continuing to attack down the right hand side with decent success. Young hopeful Connor Smith takes one chance coming in from said side and coolly slots into the corner. Towards the end new signing Jake Carroll, a Huddersfield Town left back, cuts in and places one into the net. Four nil.

A resounding pre-season success for Pools, the same result as the previous visit and I'm kicking myself for not backing it (16/1 on Bet365). However a check of the other 5pm finishes see that Preston, Rotherham, Wigan and Bournemouth all won, meaning my daft pre-season two quid fourfold has landed me twenty quid. I love coming to Spennymoor.

Him Off The Viz

The hottest ticket in town on Sunday was Simon Donald's book reading. The stand up comic / Viz creator is doing some autobiography excerpts in a tiny second hand bookshop in ye olde Durham. A North East legend. My home town. An air of secrecy and exclusiveness surrounding the whole event. There were only twenty tickets available. Me and my mate have numbers one and two. We're excited. But Jesus, I hope we're not in the front row.

However my memories of the Viz are slim. It's not like I'm not a fan, just when it was in its mid 90s prime I was too young to form part of their readership. That didn't stop me nabbing Dads copies for a sly read. Memories include Spoilt Bastard getting a kicking off the Teletubbies, Cockney Wanker getting his black cab license and overcharging tourists, a readers competition to find any Man United fans actually from Manchester (some numpty angrily wrote in stating that indeed he was, but giving his address as Rochdale - he was promptly told 'Dale has a professional club). And then came my Billy the Fish Football Yearbook and his tales of fish like goalkeeping genius, lethal strike force of Shakin' Stevens and  Mick Hucknall, and buxom squaw Brown Fox with her geet massive chebs.

It's with these thoughts in mind I'm in a Durham pub, trying to recall more Vizzy goodness from memory, mainly so I've got some ammo at hand in I'm case quizzed later. If questioned then at least I'll not be judged as some kind of non Viz fan fraud by the stereotypical die hard comic book nerds that'll no doubt be in the audience, literally, by the dozen.

As the drinks flow me and my pal remember our joint favourite Viz moment, although it was actually post Donald years. Flashback 2010, we're coming back from a Hartlepool away fixture, coincidentally at Rochdale (for any confused Mancs, Pools played Rochdale, not Manchester United), and he bought a copy of Viz at Piccadilly. Now we're on the Northern rattler trying to keep our heads down as it's full of Leeds coming back from wherever they've raped, pillaged and picked up nil points that Saturday afternoon. Only we're laughing like drains at some random bits and pieces, it's only a matter of time before one of West Yorks Neanderthal grunts for the time and once we reply in deep Durham tones we'll promptly have our teeth removed. We're drawing attention to ourselves but we care not a jot for our fate, because we're lost in mirth at the sheer mental daftness on print. Like I say it was post Donald era but I'm sure he'll be happy his legacy is living on in belly laughed guffaws on a delayed train heading north, with football tensions rising...

It's strange that the directions to the People's Book Shop should be turn right  at Waterstones. The "proper" bookshop in all its corporate splendor on the main road, the one we're heading to through a blink-and-you'll-miss-it coffin sized tunnel/alley giving alternate route to the cathedral. Up some creaking, sloping wooden stairs and we're in at close quarters with Mr Donald himself. A unique venue, an icebox laden with Stella Artois (donations welcome), left-wing literature strewn shelves and tough metal seats as sharp as the wit as the man we've come to see...

Donald explains about the hi-tech equipment dotted around. He's recording us for his audiobook. Straight away we're part of this, we're in competition with bigger, better venues and the people of the People's Bookshop will not let our hero down. That's not to say, of course, we're over generous with the laughter - when we giggle and guffaw it's warranted. And there's plenty of laughs to come throughout the night...

Donald recounts autobiography paragraphs with witty results. Some quality coming of age schoolboy japes to pissed up heckling when denied a rigged magazine award. And most memorably when noticing the singer Robert Plant slipping off towards the toilet, Donald quizzed him at loud volume if he was going for one of his famous tunes - Hey Robert, are you going for a Big Log?
Heart warmingly Donald feels the need to over explain things from a certain era, for the younger members of the audience. Given that this is exclusively me and my mate Paul, we feel personally addressed by our hero as he looks over at us, although he's probably sussed us as the stealing dads' Viz types...

Interval. Donald mingles with the crowd given there's no dressing room (or stage curtain (or stage in fact)) to chill out, so is telling jokes and sharing past times with those who remember. It would be nice to listen but I need a wee. Back down the creaky lopsided stairs to form a queue outside the only wash closet. And then I get the aging Comic Book Guy trying to suss me, stating the loaded "the thing with Viz was it was a game changer". Shit. I don't need this. There's a few pints of pre-match Carlsberg swilling round, two bottles of Stella nipping the back of my head, I'm trying to think of what gems I can remember from Mellie's Profanasaurus Rex to fend him off, erstwhile thinking I'd rather be facing those Leeds fans again. Thankfully we're interrupted by someone re-entering the building, triumphantly announcing he took a piz in Varsity across the street. I do the same.

Second half. This mainly consists of FAQ that turn into some hilarious and compelling anecdotes. One such about Viz plots being that the best and funniest tales are based on truth. Donald sitting in a kebab shop at closing time in Toon, Two drunkards are troughing their boxes of death, one peels a string of kebab and starts rubbing it on his neck...
- Heearr, can yee smell porfume on me nek?
Mate, sniffs - Aye I can
First chap (rubs more kebab like a cheap aftershave advert) - worra bout noo?
- Nae lad ah cannae
- Fank fuck for that. Wor lass is like Shorlock fuckin Holmes
It went in Sid the Sexist.

Other memories include Donald's dark days with the newspapers, which he elaborates extensively on his encounters with the gutter press, but also of other celebrities (shall remain nameless) plight. Although not quite what I was expecting, it makes for fascinating listening. I then realise the atmosphere has shifted - this is not longer a stand up comedian doing a gig, we're mates now, he's having a chat amongst friends. Made possible by the intimate venue and the handful of kindred spirits present...

Full time. After bringing the house down with a goal for Pele (won't explain this - buy the book) and a highly amusing North East version of The Wheels on the Bus, we notice two 45 minute sets have spiralled into almost three hours of comedy and quality yarns. Then it's down to the bread and butter of book signing for Donald, no, Simon - we're friends now - with Sid the Sexist Tits Oot for Ian, a shameless photo opportunity with a celeb and a handshake.

A truly unique experience, fun had by all concerned and, most importantly, a new favourite Viz memory.

Mad Shirt

Everyone has a mad shirt in their wardrobe be it floral design, a loud madras or luminous pink. Or in my case all three. However this Aertex effort takes them to the next level, teaming up with the nutty boys to create this piece of merchandise for their 2010 tour. I was first aware of the shirt a few years ago when blogging about music / designer collabs but only sourced it of late after stumbling across one on the bay of despair.

Aertex has a rich heritage spanning all the way back to 1888, and historical highlights included kitting out the Desert Rats during the war and creating England's 1970 World Cup kit. And ten years into their third century it was working with Madness to create an instant cult classic - a trim fitting, button down gingham complete with Mad M. Mad not Mad.

Th@t North

A new shop selling old (pre-loved) gear th@t opens tomorrow. Just hope it has website, because it's in Stockport. Th@t's too far to go. Even for smashing old school labels like these...

World in Motion

It's quarter of a century to the day one of the greatest footie songs was released. And World in Motion had it all - an anti violence message sung by a band who were popular amongst the casual movement, World Cup song lyricsmith Fat Les aka England's Irie aka Keith Allen amongst the ranks, ray bans and those iconic 1990 England shirts, and, of course, John Barnes "unique" rap.

It remains a popular tune 25 years later, and usually pips Three Lions to number one spot when the music channels do their top World Cup songs every four years.

It could have been so different though. New Order were tricked into doing it by manager Tony Wilson, the Factory Records supremo claiming he'd been approached by the FA (he'd actually pleaded his bands cause to Lancaster Gate). Then the lyrics could've changed - the FA wanted 'loves' to be replaced by 'we've got the world in motion) and Allen wanted to play on the acid house scene at the time, calling the E is for England. And finally Barnes only taking his role after winning a rap off with Paul Gascoigne, Peter Beardsley and Steve McMahon. Imagine Gazza doing it? I mean it's pretty cringey now (albeit fucking deadly when you're drunk).

Best Football anthem ever though? Whether yes or no, band member Bernard Summer described it as "the last straw for Joy Division fans"...