Another early bath*

The blues are still blue

Two iconic photographs appeared on my Twitter feed today. The first is a timely reminder that we're only a couple of weeks away from the World Cup kicking off in the former USSR. England, as per usual, haven't got the slightest chance of getting anywhere near the finals; unlike in 1970 when Alf Ramsey took his squad to Mexico as defending champions - 1966 and all that. And though we came close, we weren't close enough. But I just love this photo - everything, the sky, the lads' tracksuits, even the curtains on the coach, is a shimmering blue. With the exception of Alan Ball's red shirt; there's always one.

The green green grass

Exhibit B is that rare thing - a bunch of thugs looking almost wistful. Leeds Utd were, for much of the seventies, known as Dirty Leeds. They would knock seven bells out any opposition they played on a Saturday afternoon. Bar none. Yet, for five minutes on the training ground they quite literally stood like statues long enough for a team photo like no other. And, just for that literal snapshot in time, they looked like butter wouldn't melt. Who needs Photoshop?

Miles Davis - Blue in Green

* In case you're wondering, here's the original early bath

Sing when you're winning

Football chants: they're a bit like radio jingles. Throwaway yet informative, simple yet to the point. And funny; aimed at players, mostly, but often directed at the fans sitting in the opposite end to you. A prime example of the former: remember when Peter Crouch (6'-7") played for Liverpool? He's big, he's red, his feet stick out the bed, it's Peter crouch, Peter Crouch. And the latter: when the away fans inform the home fans that they don't think much of their ground and sung to the tune of When the Saints - My garden shed is bigger than this, my garden shed is bigger than this.

And like any catchy song that eventually becomes an earworm, it's the alchemy combining a turn of phrase and a memorable tune. In fact, and I'm probably going out on a limb here, but you'll probably find that 90% of all the best chants rely on just a handful of tunes. Think of a chant you heard last Saturday afternoon and I'll lay money on it being hung around one of these songs:

Knees Up Mother Brown

Sloop John B

Winter Wonderland

Guantanamera*

The Hokey Cokey

Son Of My Father (God Bless Giorgio Moroder)

This Old Man

Amore

She'll Be Coming Round The Mountain

Glory Glory
Go West
Kiss Him Goodbye

There are, obviously, notable exceptions. When Rio Ferdinand famously failed a drugs test, Fulham fans came up with His name is Rio and he's watching from the stand to *that* tune by Duran Duran.

But my personal favourite has got to be one from the seventies (of course) and was a rather succinct tribute laid at the door of Billy Bremner (587 appearances/ 91 goals for Leeds Utd 1960-1976).

Na na na na, na na na, na na na na na BILLY! BREMNER! to the opening bars of this:

* When Rangers keeper Andy Goram was diagnosed with mild schizophrenia, the chant Two Andy Gorams, there's only two Andy Gorams could often be heard at grounds north of the border.

Duck!

A theme park just around the corner from us unveiled its new ride this week. It made the local paper; with speed/drop/G-force stats that would make your hair, quite literally, stand on end I think it's safe to say I'll be sticking to the tea cups. Or the dodgems. But I digress. Reading the feature I was more interested in who they'd got to open this end of pier attraction. *Drum roll* Peter Lorimer! Or to give him his full title Peter 'Hot-Shot' Lorimer. A former Leeds Utd striker with a shot so fierce he was once pictured in Rothmans with his right foot cooling down in a bucket of cold water.