FOREVER IN BLUE HOOPS

The 2011/12 season will be the 20th anniversary of RFC's return to their traditional blue and white hoops. Club colours are a source of great pride to supporters of any clubs, especially clubs like Reading where we are bereft of trophies and glory and hang onto such trifling matters of livery in order to claim some sort of identity for ourselves. The fact that our gloriously beautiful colours were ripped off by the cockney spivs of QPR in the 1960s matters not to RFC followers, for we know that we can claim to having originated a blue and white kit more than 90 earlier.


RFC have celebrated this anniversary by releasing a home strip which is - literally - half decent. Due to a ludicrous league rule about two-tone strips, the reverse of the home shirt this coming season is all white, allegedly for the benefit of clueless media types (remember - 'I HOPE YOU CAN READ THIS, BRIAN MOORE?', the very best banner on display during the 1995 play-off final at Wembley). However, the shirt itself retains a retro-70s Bukta-look, resplendent with collar. And best of all - a return to white shorts.


Team group photos of those 1871 pioneers show our forefathers bedecked in caps, blue and white hooped shirts and white knickerbockers. I am not going to get all Anders Breivik about this, but if it was good enough for Mr Sydenham 140 years ago it should be good enough for us now. There was a time in the 1950s and 1960s where RFC wore all white and then sky blue home shirts but these seemed unpopular with the supporters and the club returned to the hoops, only to ditch them again in 1983 under the brave new world of Roger Smee. One suspects that supporters back then were just happy enough to have a club to support after Maxwell's merger mutterings and were not minded to kick up much fuss about the club colours. But in the fanzine era, Taking The Biscuit fanzine were particularly vocal about a return to traditional hoops and finally in 1992 post-Moynihan and Bassett, the football club seemed to give a damn about the feelings of the supporters and our colours were reinstated. That 1992/93 effort was also accompanied by white shorts, so stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Negative Jeff.


So what prompted me to realise this significant anniversary? Well, it was the lend of a friend's home videos. No, nothing like that - although in a way what I had borrowed was seedier than porn. I had borrowed a grainy VHS-to-DVD transfer of RFC goals videoed from local ITV news throughout the 1992/93 season; a labour of love of record-stop-eject-record-stop-eject proportions ad nauseum, chronicling Mark McGhee's second season as RFC manager. The summer of 1992 was an angry and confusing time both locally and nationally; the Tories had recently won a barely conceivable 4th consecutive term in office, Graham Taylor's England with Keith Curle at right back had unsurprisingly flopped in Euro '92 (Brolin-Dahlin-Brolin!) and Reading found themselves 'promoted' to Division 2 having finished only 12th in Division 3 the previous May, thanks to the Behemoth that was the FA Premier League. To have this uncertain period encapsulated in video highlights of the-way-we-were football-wise way back then really is quite something, and one suspects that should Hugh Scully and Tony Robinson ever come across this sacred, rare DVD footage they would have an almighty tug-of-war over this antique time-capsule of a period where the step haircut and Tab-clear cola were in vogue.


1992/93 was also a transitional period for local broadcasting. I don't know if you're familiar with ITV franchising policy, but in late 1992 it was announced that TVS were losing their franchise to Meridian Broadcasting come January 1st 1993 and the flagship Coast-to-Coast news magazine was to be replaced with a Meridian equivalent. Many of the presenters kept their jobs under the reshuffle, others were to lose theirs and tragically Fred Dineage's glasses were to be found on a rock just off Hayling Island, discovered by a mournful, wailing Fern Britton. Football - as with life - carries on however, and the footage commences.....not at Elm Park but at Selhurst Park, for this is a veritable treasure-trove of footage for the southern football fan due to the vagueries of record-stop-eject and the often fleeting footage provided, our time lord manages to also record the goals and highlights not just for Reading, but also for Southampton (top dog in the south at the time), Pompey, Bournemouth and Brighton.



An indication of perceived south coast bias of TVS is shown by the fact that Alan Shearer's debut for Blackburn at Palace is covered, solely due to him having signed for mega-bucks from Southampton. The action soon moves on to Victoria Park, Hartlepool where Jimmy Quinn lobs Reading in front on his debut, but the Royals are soon struggling. Mark McGhee scores a belting finish in a draw with Orient, but a home defeat to Hull follows and Reading end the game with ten men due to Lea Barkus displaying some petulant retaliation. There is some great violence throughout actually; Jimmy Quinn clouts Exeter's Peter Whiston with a right hook which makes Leigertwoods assault on Craig Bellamy look like a Facebook poke and at the end there is some glorious footage of the infamous Swansea riot.


The action is chiefly described by David Bobin, who looks rather like Alan Partridge of The Day Today vintage - you almost expect him to describe yet another Jimmy Quinn imperious header as being 'liquid football'. Bobin gets bumped off in the new year to be replaced by the side-parted Chris Maughan who seems almost unashamedly proud to more than hint at his support for Reading. Good man. Bobin and Maughan introduce us to familiar names throughout; Adrian 'Andy' Cole scores early on for Bristol City against Pompey, Steve Foster's iconic headband is on display for Brighton and Steve Cotterill - Pompey manager of late - cannot stop scoring for the Seagulls, although not as prolifically as Guy Whittingham for Pompey. Nicky Hammond is shown conceding a soft goal for Swindon at Fratton Park, Peter Shilton similarly for Plymouth at Elm Park and Robert Codner is sent off for two violent bookings for Brighton.....the second of which decapitates one Chris Makin. Adie Williams is later shown red for a soft looking elbow on.....Eamon Dolan.


The grounds themselves are cause for nostalgia too. The Taylor Report is a few years old by now, but the suggested improvements haven't really kicked in. As well as lovely old EP, Fratton Park retains an unusual air of charm with two open ends and Brighton's Goldstone Ground is epic, all mesh fences and pens with an open terrace along the side. Fantastic. At the Goldstone, as Reading begin to find their feet, for some reason the home side are wearing their away kit as a Lovell goal gives us the win but Reading themselves are forced to wear firstly Huddersfield's awful away shirt - as Shaka saves a pen in his breakthrough season - and then later on Wigan's red number on their travels. At Watford in the Coca-Cola a 2-2 draw is earned with the defending on both sides part OFSTED-failing schoolboy standard.


It's not all football though, no sir - the remote control presumably went missing as the sports desk rambles cheerfully on about yachting, Poole Pirates, Havant rugby and best of all dirt-track biking from Sussex where only a smiling Peter Purves is missing. There are heroes and villains on display throughout; Adie Williams takes a long ball on his chest, turns the defence and crashes home a consolation goal at the Vetch Field with aplomb not usually seen from a centre-half whilst Stockport's Andy Preece is sent off for GBH on Bournemouth's keeper. Pompey's game at Oxford ends in 'An American Tail' - Fieval, having blown a 5-2 lead.


The plot thickens with a Reading cup run. Royals dismiss Birmingham frm the FA Cup despite a centre-half playing in goal saving a Quinn penalty. The league form dips as James Lambert rises to stardom in the cup, a 2-3 Elm Park loss to Exeter with Grecians right-back Scott Hiley scoring a hatrick is rather disconcertingly slack and that is followed up by a 2-4 loss at home again against Stockport with Kevin Francis - the black Matthieu Manset - running riot. It all starts to go to pot with Lambert on trial at Monaco (he was last seen working for Westcoast by the way, Jordan Obita take note) and Tom Jones finding It's Not Unusual to be on the receiving end of a fierce Parky tackle.....this one breaking his leg in training.


However, Meridian take the baton from TVS in the new year and the new broom at ITV sweeps Reading on to a long unbeaten run, we even get a cup draw at Premier League Manchester City. John Madejski launches into an emotional diatribe about vandals setting fire to an electricity box at Elm Park but the only home fire burning is on the pitch where McGhee's men notch up seven successive home wins and we're on the periphery of the play-offs. Michael Gilkes is in sparkling form, leaving defenders for dead and scoring a series of important winners by outpacing his fullback and shooting across the keeper; it is stirring stuff which frankly makes Jimmy Kebe look like Michael Meaker. One of those home wins in secured after a thrilling win in the 'southern derby' with Bournemouth, who peg us back to 3-2 from being 3 goals down. Bournemouth's second goal is celebrated enthusiastically on the Town End terrace by a Cherries fan in flat cap and driving gloves.


Ultimately we just miss out on the top 6 and the season ends with Swansea fans having a good old riot at Elm Park with some Meridian footage which would give Danny Dyer an erection. Chief Inspector Keep of TVP was expecting a carnival atmosphere but bemoans down the camera lens that "that wasn't carnival, that was out-right.....damage!" Let us hope that our play-off conquerors return to top flight football doesn't also descend into mindless, bloody violence as David Bobin, sorry Alan Partridge might put it. The footage ends on a happy note though; Mark McGhee signs a 3 years contract 'til 1996 and he talks of european football at Elm Park in years to come. We'll have to see how that pans out, but firstly over to Carl Tyler with the weather.....


[This post is dedicated to South Downs Royal, a huge fan of the bLOLog]

FORGING FRIENDSHIPS

There’s always next year. As Reading fans slipped morosely away from Wembley back in May after yet another play of final loss, there was always next year. After a defensive horror show in the first half at the national stadium, for Brian McDermott and his men there was always next year. Nick Hornby remarked in his ground-breaking fan-biography Fever Pitch that “if you lose the Cup Final in May, well there's the third round to look forward to in January. And what's wrong with that? It's actually pretty comforting if you think about it.” There’s always next year. But while his mucker Negative Jeff, looks forward to the new season in his own inimitable style, for life-long Reading FC fan Tony Forge, sadly, there is no next year.



Rather touchingly, Forge – who had been gravely ill for some time- held on long enough to listen to radio commentary of his beloved RFC fighting back admirably in the second half against Swansea with a typically gung-ho response. Such fighting spirit was typical of Tony himself throughout his illness. His visits to the Madejski became fewer and far between during the final months of his life, but he was always keenly waiting on the other end of a telephone for updates and debates with his mates. His spirit will live on in his old drinking buddy, Jeff.



Jeff himself had been ill, although you’d not know it. A more sprightly sexagenarian you couldn’t wish to find, as evidenced by his half-time star-jumps during our regular interval congress behind the East Stand. Jeff holds court during what is affectionately referred to by the regular participants as ‘the half time moan’. Passing comment on the game itself seems almost a chore to Jeff – although he regularly makes mention of his dissatisfaction at McDermott’s chosen style of play – rather more, he is curious to know whether you are attending next week’s away game and if so which train are you taking and most importantly which pub will you be in. Jeff is one of the senior citizens amongst the train-travelling RFC away-day crew and although he clearly enjoys being held in reverential terms by chaps several years his junior during these precious 15-minute male-bonding sessions as they chant his Bee Gees inspired theme tune, he will undoubtedly miss his compadre and peer, Forge.



I remember first meeting Forge for the first time on the way to Brighton in 2002. I was with Andy Ray and Compo, was shaking off a horrible hangover and my mood was not improved by a wretched train journey comprising several changes due to engineering work. We boarded our 3rd train of the day at Liphook, which for all I knew was the @rse-end of nowhere. A gentleman joined us on the platform at Liphook and having sat behind us during this last leg of the journey he must have become weary of listening to our ill-informed football opinions because he interrupted, put us to right and joined in the conversation. He was a very plain speaking bloke, not unafraid to chip in on a topic of conversation relating to a subject matter he clearly felt very passionate about. And do you know what, he spoke with real authority, he was a good many years our senior but was comfortable interrupting 3-know-nothing lads all young enough to be his son and discuss football and RFC in particular. More recently I came to know Forge through the likes of Negative Jeff, DWM and Deavesy. What a brilliant set of chaps; utterly unpretentious, they enjoy each other's company, they enjoy the banter, the beer and most of all the football. I am proud to support the same team as this group of gentlemen, who respect one another and their team, their club. This group of fellas might have a quiet moan and groan occasionally about the team's fortunes, but they always remained supportive and just happy to get on with travelling up and down the country sharing in their strongest mutual passion - Real Ale, no,.....RFC!



Life is fleeting, our number will be up eventually and for Tony Forge the fat lady has sadly already sung. For centuries, man has pondered the meaning of life and found more questions than answers in this, the best of all possible worlds. Sure, wasting time and money travelling up and down the country, sitting in dead-end pubs drinking good beer doesn’t seem the best use of our four score years and ten, but without the fripperies of trifling debate about how best to tactically arrange millionaires so as their ball-kicking skills will outperform another set if millionaires, life surely is rather empty and clinical. People like Tony Forge embody what football fandom is all about; friendships, a good old fashioned debate and a few drinks before and after. Jeff won’t be lonely without his old mucker, because such is the non-denominational dynamic of football crowds, Jeff will continue to have a drink in various different footballing towns around the country with a group of chaps of varying ages, backgrounds and political persuasions he might otherwise have nothing in common with. Myself, I can recall receiving a cheery ‘hello’ at an away game from a senior practitioner at a partner agency in my professional life which momentarily render me rather sheepish due to the appalling language I had been using towards a part-time umpire, adjudicating a group of millionaires kicking a ball around immediately prior to said friendly greeting. It takes all sorts to make a football crowd, and – broadly speaking – if you’re wearing the same colours they don’t discriminate against one another, creed or colour. Long may the social side of attending football thrive, thanks to the hostelries and buffet cars of Britain!