Hartlepool are almost rock bottom at the moment. 23rd propped up only by Bury. Seven points on the board. Rumour has it that there's a split in the camp. Since Cooper returned training schedules and times have changed, and a certain section of the squad are unhappy about this. I've had it on good authority that it's the Yorkshire based players who are causing the bother, they're traveling up, rabbiting in the car and not pulling their weight on the pitch. Player Power. Trying to get the manager sacked. However as chairman Ken Hodcroft has shown in the past with Chris Turner, he'll not pull the trigger irrationally when it's one of his pals in charge. And Cooper is a mate after what he achieved first time round at the club. So they've had the discussion and his job is safe. It could be a transfer overhaul come January - presuming Coops manages to chalk up enough points to keep the fans off his back. The big six pointer comes next Tuesday away at Bury...
So with Pools being, quite frankly, shite, watching your country might provide a welcome break. Me old man won a couple of San Marino tickets in the golf so cheap hotel and rail tickets booked and Oyster cards topped up, off we went. Looked forward to it with a new found sense of optimism not had since the early Sven days. Watching England back then was exciting, the so called 'Golden Generation' were going to win WC 2002, Euro 2004 and WC 2006 etc (for those who don't know the result - they didn't) and home games were played around the country, bringing the Three Lions to new England fans. However the Golden Generation are now Golden Oldies and the new lot don't look all that. Recent tournaments have been a disgrace and tactics poor. However when John 'I'm not racist' Terry (You are), captain and cunt, retires, then being England is something to be proud of again. And I guess others felt the same as Wembley was a sell out against a team of computer salesmen and bus drivers.
The new Wembley. Been before for 2008 Carling Cup final. It's a smashing stadium. And going against my AMF principles, we were actually in the posh seats. Not my fault, they were free. But it felt strange having a padded seat, leg room and a cup holder. However the view was unobstructed and clear, so settled down in some comfort. Got annoyed at half time though when went off to find a bovril and could only fine bottles of wine, Champagne or Coke at £3.
There was a lot of noise in the stadium prior to kick off but the carnival atmosphere gave way to the England band drumming, mexican waves and the biggest cheers reserved for Joe Hart touching the ball. Not the greatest of spectacles although my Spurs supporting Dad had a good chuckle when Walcott was taken off for what can only be described as a severe winding. For fucks sake a rugby player the other week ruptured a bollock in the opening minutes, carried on for 70 minutes and then had to have it removed. Walcott runs into the goalkeepers flying arse and has to be stretchered off and sent home.
San Marino parked the bus. Presumably their centre half using his day job experience there. Ten men in front of the goal and a surprising competant goalkeeper (who could and maybe should have been sent off). Job done in the end, five goals - worryingly less than both previous games against SM under Turnip Taylor - however didn't jump up for one. What was the point? We knew they were coming and were expected, so not going to jump around like a nut. First time I've not jumped up for goals since said 2008 Carling Cup final when me and said Spurs fan dad were in the Chelsea end. Said John Terry played that day too. Said racist.
Was good to see them live at Wembley. But enjoyable? Not really. And then drawing in Poland yesterday has brought me back down to earth with a bump. Hartlepool. England. Both shite. Football. It's a fucking joyless experience sometimes.
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