Calvin changes family as he transfers to Millwall

A jumbo hot-dog between Robbo’s eyes…Morison apologising to a defender…and a tweet that brought a tear to his eye

By CHRISTOPHER DAVIES

IT IS a widely held belief that you can change most things in your life but not the club you support. You can change your name, house, job, wife/husband, religion and nationality but your club is sacrosanct..it is forever.

Michael Calvin, a Watford fan since childhood, crossed the ultimate divide when he was writing Family – Life, Death and Football, his new book. He spent a year on the frontline with Millwall and achieved the dream of football writers and supporters by going into the heart of a club. He was at training, in the dressing room, at board meetings – in fact anywhere and everywhere.

Millwall, a club with a stigma brought about from incidents in the past, won Calvin over. He admits he lost his professional detachment during a game at Colchester. He calls it “a real us against them day”. The home club had done as much as they could to make conditions for the visitors – let’s say challenging.

Calvin said: “In was in the Aidy Boothroyd days, on Easter Monday. The dressing-room had been cut in half, the walls had been painted black and all electrical sockets had been removed.”

It takes more than that to intimidate Millwall. Calvin said: “The players pooled their batteries, put them into an iPOD charger and Dizzee Rascal was soon blaring out.

“Millwall took the lead and Colchester made it 1-1 after a goalkeeping mistake. The momentum of Paul Robinson took him into the back of the net as he tried to stop the ball going in.

“Paul found himself facing the away end and a Millwall fan behind the goal had a jumbo hot dog, about 12 inches long. He threw it like a javelin in disgust and it went through the net, hitting Paul right between the eyes, with onions and tomato ketchup and God knows what else all over his face.”

It’s funny but it isn’t.

“With 10 minutes to go Millwall scored what proved to be the winner. I was sitting next to Gary Alexander, a sub, on the bench and with a striker’s instinct he shouted ‘it’s in’ a second before the ball crossed the line. We both jumped up, and made eye contact. We knew what we were about to do was wrong, but we started hugging each other and jumping up and down like little kids.

“That was the moment Millwall got me.”

TO UNDERSTAND Millwall Football Club you first have to understand the area of south-east London where most of their fans live and where I grew up. Driving through Lewisham, Deptford or New Cross, down the Old Kent Road or Walworth Road you can find yourself stuck in a tenement time-warp, the surrounding boroughs sadly neglected in comparison to others where modernisation is concerned. Near the Den there are arches where, if you threw a couple of street urchins down, you could turn your clock back 150 years.

It was a learning curve for Calvin who said: “The club are in an area where there is a crossover between refurbished flats and deprivation.

“Millwall are an old fashioned football club with a real emotional intensity between the fans and the club. A couple of generations ago, if there was a death in the family the natural outlet for grief was the parish priest or vicar. For Millwall supporters the club has a more central part in their lives. “

A hardened journalist who has worked in more than 80 countries covering every major sporting event, Calvin is not embarrassed to admit a message from a Millwall fan brought a tear to his eye last week.

Returning on the team coach from Bristol City where Millwall had played well only to lose to a stoppage time goal, defender Alan Dunne was reading through his tweets. There was a message from a fan called Tim Dill which said: “Dunney, my dad died on New Year’s Day. Millwall all his life. I reckon he’d get a kick from an RT. ‘Safe trip, Red’ Thanks.” Of course, Dunne duly obliged.

While Calvin believes Millwall are “burdened by their outdated image” it is something the club have to live with. The book is excellent and the fly-on-the-wall insider accounts will appeal to fans of all clubs. It will, Calvin hopes, change the way outsiders look at Millwall. “If you have preconceptions about Millwall, read the book and come back to me,” he said. “It is a proper football club with the right values. Sadly people are judged by a small minority.”

Millwall’s reputation travelled ahead of them when they played West Ham United in the Carling Cup in August 2009. The policing of the game left much to be desired as did the home club’s overall control. Calvin witnessed first-hand the commotion outside Upton Park before retreating to the safety of the press box.

He said: “I sat behind a reporter who was under pressure from his news desk who had been watching some trouble on Sky News. He had to produce a piece and simply typed the words ‘Millwall’ ‘West Ham’ and ‘trouble’ into Google. The old stories came out from Cyberspace and formed the basis for his report about what was going on around him.”

Each club faced charges of failure to ensure their supporters refrained from violent, threatening, obscene and provocative behaviour; failure to ensure their supporters refrained from racist behaviour and failure to ensure their supporters did not throw missiles, harmful or dangerous objects onto the pitch. While West Ham were found guilty, Millwall, who were not involved in any of the security talks, were cleared by the Football Association of any wrongdoing. It cost Millwall £100,000 to defend the charges.

IT TOOK Millwall manager Kenny Jackett “about 10 seconds” to agree to the book, granting Calvin an access all areas pass to the club.

He said: When I turned up on the first day Kenny told the players what was happening. Neil Harris, who was the spiritual leader of the group, came over for a chat. I felt very privileged but most of all accepted. The chairman [John Berylson] and the manager had said it was OK so the players were fine.”

Calvin became what he calls a chameleon in the dressing room, staying in the background but taking notes in a small pad. The club had no editorial control over what was written but Calvin gave the manuscript to Jackett and the players out of courtesy. Jackett’s mother told him off because he had sworn so much.

“The dialogue had to be real, it had to be honest,” said Calvin who saw the good, bad and ugly that go with the roller-coaster of emotions experienced by a football club.

He said: “You see the rage where players are at each other’s throats. You see the frustrations, the fear, the insecurity and even the awe after a really good performance.

“You also see real tenderness. I shall never forget the touching moment involving Danny Senda after he tore an Achilles tendon. He was laying face down on the physio table, the players gathered around him and Harris kissed him gently on the back of the head. It was saying ‘we’re all with you.’”

It is obvious in the book that Harris, the club’s all-time record goalscorer and a true Millwall legend, was the player who made the biggest impression on Calvin. Harris, now with Southend, was diagnosed with testicular cancer in 2001 and Calvin confirmed: “Yes, by a distance. He is one of the best human beings I’ve ever met. He’s street-wise, a brilliant politician in a football sense and there is a humility in the guy that goes back to coming into the pro game so late.

“What I found hugely impressive was the way he used his cancer as a source of mental strength which he shared with others, especially by undertaking counselling work with other sufferers. Vince Lombardi, the famous Green Bay Packers coach, said that the strength of a group is in its leaders. Harris comes into that category.”

Then there is Steve Morison who joined Millwall from Stevenage Borough in 2009. “At 16 he was one of a group of players told by Tottenham they did not think he would made the grade, nothing personal, sorry, don’t come back. He played for Northampton, Bishop’s Stortford and then Stevenage. Kenny signed him, for £130,000. It wasn’t an instant success story.

“I remember speaking to him after his first game at Southampton. He said ‘wow, everything happens so fast, I almost couldn’t catch my breath. I was thinking so fast I thought my head was going to explode.’

“Gradually he became more accustomed to the pace but he went through the fires of hell. He missed a goal in an FA Cup tie at Staines which beggared belief.

“On the Monday morning I was in Kenny’s office. He went through the miss on the DVD and said ‘I’ve seen some things in my time but how did that happen?’

“Kenny told Steve he was built like a brick you-know-what…he was a Millwall-type player but he wasn’t acting like one. He actually said ‘sorry’ to a defender he’d accidentally bumped into. Kenny went mad. You don’t apologise to defenders, he told Steve. You have to put yourself about not say sorry.

“Once, Steve was substituted at half-time. It was all going on around him in the dressing-room, he got undressed slowly and as the other players were going out for the second-half he just stood there in a world of his own, obviously wondering if he was good enough.

“Fair play to the guy. He came through, scored a lot of goals for Millwall who sold him for £2.8 million to Norwich where he’s been a revelation, also making his mark for Wales. He proves there is talent in the lower leagues. Kenny worked really hard with Steve on the training pitch and it paid dividends.”

HAS THE experience of living the dream made Calvin a better journalist?

“That is for others to judge. It has given me an insight that I never had into the realities of a game that we tend to judge on superficialities. I have also noticed a respect that is routinely denied to football writers these days from managers and players who have read the book.

“At the 1982 World Cup I remember travelling from the airport in the England team bus and chatting to Ray Wilkins. I was the youngest member of the Press corps and he was one of the youngest players in the squad. We spoke about our respective positions. That sort of intimacy of contact has gone now, it’s too much us versus them now.”

There can be no follow-up to Family but Calvin is writing a prequel, interviewing the 30 most popular Millwall legends including, of course, Harris plus among others Terry Hurlock, Tim Cahill, Barry Kitchener and Keith Stevens.

Watch Michael Calvin talk about Family – Life, Death and Football here…

British Sports Books Awards: Results

Patrick Barclay and Brian Scovell, both members of the FWA Committee of long standing, both had books nominated in the 2011 British Sports Books Awards at the Savoy on May 9. Patrick’s was “Football – Bloody Hell” a biography of Sir ALex Ferguson and Brian’s was “Bill Nicholson: Football’s Perfectionist.”

Brian’s book which has just come out in paperback, was also entered in the Biogaphy Section. Five of our Committe members chose Anthony Clavane’s “Promised Lane The Reinvention of Leeds United” in the Football Section and they were Mike Collett (chairman), Martin Lipton, Glenn Moore, John Ley and Gerry Cox.

Catrine Clay’s “Trautmann’s Journey – From Hitler Youth to FA Legend” won the Biography Award.

FWA Shortlist for Football Book of the Year

EACH YEAR, a select band from the national committee of the Football Writers’ Association, take some time out from writing their own words to read as many football books as possible before deciding on the Football Book of the Year, one of the main categories in the increasingly influential British Sports Book Awards. This year’s winner will be announced at a gala dinner at the Savoy Hotel on May 9.

Fifteen or 20 years ago, there were few intelligent, thoughtful and discersive books published about football, with cricket and rugby writers in general waxing far more lyrically, and in greater numbers, than those from our game. But all that has changed.

Now there appears to be more outstanding publications reaching the bookshelves than before and 2010 was no exception. However, the book committee of the FWA had to draw up a shortlist from the dozens of great books that were produced and after lengthy deliberations, their recommendations are listed below.

Mike Collett, chairing the Committee this year said: “What we are looking for is a book that tells a story in a special, unique way, and there were plenty of candidates to chose from before we settled on our final seven. We now have to give very careful consideration to the strengths and merits of these finalists and each one in their own way is superb and a deserving winner. . It is not going to be easy – but its going to be highly enlightening.”

The shortlist is (in author’s alphabetical order):
PATRICK BARCLAY: Football – Bloody Hell ! – The Biography of Alex Ferguson Yellow Jersey
MICHAEL CALVIN: Family – Life Death and Football. Integr8 Publishing
ANTHONY CLAVANE: Promised Land – The Re-Iinvention of Leeds United. Yellow Jersey
CATRINE CLAY: Trautmann’s Journey – From Hitler Youth to FA Cup Legend Yellow Jersey
JAMES MORGAN: In Search of Alan Gilzean – The lost legacy of a Dundee and Spurs legend. Back Page Press
BRIAN SCOVELL: Bill Nicholson – Football’s Perfectionist. John Blake Publishing
JONATHAN WILSON: The Anatomy of England – A History in Ten Matches. Orion Publishing

The committee will make its choice by the end of April with the winner announced by Queens Park Rangers manager Neil Warnock at the dinner at the Savoy on May 9.

Book Club: ‘Thank You Hermann Goering’

In his time working for the Daily Sketch and Daily Mail, Brian Scovell probably reported on more Test matches and international football matches than any other English sportswriter. This fascinating, amusing and moving memoir is filled with hundreds of anecdotes and insights into top sports personalities and other public figures, including previously untold stories about Maggie Thatcher, John Major, Princess Diana, Brian Lara, Enoch Powell, and Alan Sugar.

Following a German bombing raid on the Isle of Wight in 1943, Brian spent two years in hospital reading articles by Tom Philips, the leading sports writer of the day. His mother wanted him to be a banker, but in that hospital bed Brian decided to go to Fleet Street, so he has Hermann Goering to thank for the way his life turned out.

England cricket captain Ted Dexter called him ‘Scoop’ and two of his scoops, both outside sport, concerned a secret meeting between Goering and Lord Jellicoe at St Lawrence, in a failed attempt to broker a peace agreement, and a German amphibious raid on a radar station in the same area.

One of the book’s central themes is Brian’s love affair with his wife Audrey, an artist who died in 2000 and continues to inspire his writing. As he contends with the boozy Cobbold brothers, weathers spats with fellow journalists and travels the world (meeting Pope John Paul II and Reverend Canaan Banana on the way) she remains his chief allegiance, more important than newsprint or sport.

THE AUTHOR
Born in 1935 on the Isle of Wight, Brian Scovell was one of the Daily Mail’s longest-serving and best-loved sports writers.He has written 24 previous books, most famously co-authoring the autobiography of the illusive Brian Lara for Corgi, but he has also written about Dickie Bird, Trevor Brooking, Bobby Robson and Ken Barrington. His books about England Managers and Jim Laker were both nominated for the Sports Book of the Year Prize. He lives in Bromley in Kent.

Book Club: Scovell achieves third Double

Brian Scovell, our longest serving member on the FWA Committee, has achieved a third Double in the season that Tottenham Hotspur won the first Double of the last century. His biography of Bill Nicholson commemorating the 50th anniversary has been widely reviewed and his 25th book has just come out, a memoir entitled “Thank You Hermann Goering – A Life of a Sports Writer.” Frank Keating said of it “a triumph, it’s a terrific piece of work and I read it in one sitting, well, two.”

In 1982 he brought out “Ken Barrington: A Tribute” and “Times on the Grass,” the first autobiography of Bobby Robson and in 2006 his books “The Impossible Job – The England Managers” and “19-90 Jim Laker” were nominated for the British Sports Book Awards.

FWA Book Club: Forgive Us Our Press Passes

From Forgive Us Our Press Passes (Know The Score Books – Amazon £13.99).

Never before have so many leading football writers been united in one publication. Newspaper rivalries are set aside as the Football Writers’ Association present a unique collection of more than 60 original essays on every aspect of modern football. Know The Score Books are giving 10 per cent of the retail price of the book to Great Ormond Street Hospital Children’s Charity. The best writers have come together for the best of causes.

From the delight and downfall of Diego Maradona to the highs and lows of supporting Brighton and Hove Albion and Barnet, from the achievements of Sir
Alex Ferguson to those of Hartlepool United, from goal celebrations to refereeing, the rise of African football to David Ginola’s hair and Bob Paisley’s slippers, from Sir Stanley Matthews and Ferenc Puskas through Roy Keane and Steven Gerrard, from the craziness of and Vinnie Jones to the life of a TV commentator and that of a former pro-turned-journalist, every angle of the Beautiful Game, across England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales and all other points of the compass, is covered in Forgive Us Our Press Passes.

You can buy the book here…

By Mike Collett

There was nowhere quite like the Collette Restaurant and Snack Bar on FA Cup Final day at Wembley Stadium in the 1960s. Nowhere. It is the kind of place
people no longer eat in. Actually, even when it existed there weren’t too many places like it that people ate in, but on Cup Final day it was absolutely magical.

It stood less than half a mile away from the Twin Towers, opposite the entrance to Wembley Stadium mainline station and for me, for a time, it was even more
magical and exciting than actually being in the stadium itself.

Well that’s not quite true, because all I longed for was the chance to find a ticket.

I used to imagine, as I poured out another Kia-Ora orange from the huge dispenser or prised open the top of another bottle of Coke or Seven-Up that I would find one carelessly discarded amongst the empty cups or plates, or that someone would just walk in, and offer me, a gawky teenager, a ticket for the final.

You think like that when you are 15.

Without realising it at the time, the Collette gave me a privileged position among football fans, because I went to Wembley for the Cup Final every season.

The Cup finalists often stayed not far from where I lived, either at the Brent Bridge Hotel off the North Circular or at the Hendon Hall Hotel and I learnt very early exactly what the magic of the Cup meant, both to the players and the fans.

We used to go to the hotels to get the players autographs. Then on Cup Final day I’d find myself among the fans, listening to their conversations about their heroes I’d been with the day before.

The optimism of fans never changes before a Cup Final. No matter what colours, or rosettes then, they happened to be wearing, it was always thrilling. No-one ever admitted they were going to lose, ever.

The desolation of the losers never changed either. Losing fans don’t stick around for cups of tea afterwards. Winning fans would come back and order steak and chips.

Forty years on, and no matter what else the big clubs may be aiming to win today, there is still nowhere quite like Wembley on FA Cup Final day and those
days at the Collette helped me fall in love with the world’s greatest cup competition.

My Uncle Jack ran the place and added the final ‘e’ to the Collett name on the tiled shop-front sign to give it an air of refined European sophistication.
But you cannot imagine a place less likely to attract refined European sophisticates.

“What’s that last ‘e’ for, Uncle Jack?” I asked him once as I carried a huge pile of empty plates back to the kitchen where the amazing El Greco, the one-armed washer-up, worked on match days. In fact, he was about the nearest thing the Collette Restaurant & Snack Bar ever got to the European game. And despite his nickname, he was Italian and told me he used to play for Inter Milan.

“But you’ve only got one arm,” I would tease him.

“I was not the goalkeeper … and I’ve got two feet,” he’d reply, and there was no arguing with that.

I never asked him how he lost the arm, but he was certainly the most effective one-armed professional dish washer I’ve ever seen.

While El Greco stayed year after year and did the washing up, cooks came and went, but none could match Vi. She was formidable with a mane of jet black hair
and a personality that could fill a room, or even Wembley itself. There were often so many people in the tiny kitchen you had to walk sideways to get anywhere.

“We need more plates, Greco,” she would scream at the one-armed dishwasher. “So hurry up.” Another arm wouldn’t have gone amiss.

Uncle Jack had thought about the final ‘e’ on the end of the name and as I walked out of the kitchen, through a little corridor where he had his ‘office’ and used to type up things like ‘1965 FA Cup Final Menu Special’, he was waiting with his answer.

“People will think it’s Italian. Then it should have an ‘i’ on the end then and be Colletti,” replied his precocious nephew.

“They’ll think it’s French then,” he explained, as if that made a blind bit of difference.

All they wanted was a steak and kidney pie and chips, or steak and chips or beans on toast or egg and chips. I don’t think they’d heard of pasta at Wembley in 1965.

But you had to hand it to him, Uncle Jack was certainly a showman with an engaging style. Small, balding and with a fine moustache and a wonderful sense
of humour, he would also usually wear a long white coat while on duty on Cup Final day. It made him look like a cross between a doctor and a butcher, which
perhaps wasn’t a bad thing.

He was a cross between Arthur Lowe of Dad’s Army fame and the great Spurs fan and actor Warren Mitchell and had been something in the City before a career
swerve occurred. He ended up running this madhouse.

There were in fact three very distinct sections to it. The Snack Bar part, where I began working on match days as a 13 year-old, was at street level. The restaurant was up a winding staircase where about 25 tables occupied the whole floor.

There was a Juke Box in the corner and every time I hear Otis Redding’s Dock of the Bay I can picture the sounds and smells of that restaurant as if it was
yesterday. In 1968 an Everton fan put in about £2 – a fortune at the time – and keyed in Dock of the Bay which played non-stop about 25 times for more than an hour. It must have been the high point of his day. West Bromwich beat them 1-0 with Jeff Astle’s extra-time winner.

One floor above the restaurant were the mysterious rooms which were let out to all kinds of equally mysterious people. I found out later that El Greco lived up there where he had a box with a wooden, gloved arm in it.

I rarely ventured to the rooms, but in 1965 Uncle Jack had a brilliant idea. Years before Sky TV came along, Jack, although he didn’t know it, I reckon,
invented Pay per View TV. There was no satellite technology involved here however. He just put a TV in an empty room and charged all those without
tickets still in the restaurant at kick-off time five shillings to watch the match. He made a killing.

There wasn’t a lot to do while the game was actually on, and once I had cleared up the empties, he let me sit in with the world’s first Pay Per View TV audience.

There might have been 100,000 actually in Wembley across the road to see Liverpool beat Leeds, but it seemed to me there were almost as many in that
bedroom, all of them Liverpool fans as I recall, all of them in suits and all of them delighted to be seeing the match on a tiny black-and-white Rediffusion TV set.

However ‘seeing the match’ might be something of an exaggeration. After a while the room became so full of smoke, wild language and Liverpool fans going crazy, it was amazing anyone could breathe, let alone work out what was being beamed live from 200 yards away.

My lasting memory of the 1965 Cup final is actually ‘seeing’ Ian St John’s winning header through a dense fug of Woodbine cloud and an ecstatic Scouser
hugging me half-to-death celebrating Liverpool’s first ever FA Cup win.

The following year, 1966, saw the Collette decked out in World Cup Willie paraphernalia and the place moved into overdrive with so many matches at
Wembley. Everton and Sheffield Wednesday came to town for the Cup Final and the Snack Bar was doing a roaring trade.

The tea urn was being drained in record time, the sandwiches were selling like hot cakes, which of course, we didn’t sell, bottles of coke were going by the
crateload. A Sheffield Wednesday fan came up to the bar.

“How much is a ham sandwich ?”

“Two and six,” I replied

“How much is cheese sandwich ?”

“Two and three.”

“And how much for teas?”

“Six pence.”

He thought for a moment or two. I didn’t know whether he was gonna hug me like that Scouser had or belt me.

“I’ll have two teas. I’m not paying your thieving London prices.”

I served him two teas. He drank one after the other and walked out. Strange people football folk. Wonderful people too.

It was April 11, 1970, about half past two and the Cup final between Chelsea and Leeds was less than half an hour away. As was usual, the Collette was emptying as fans went across to the stadium.

I was cleaning up the Snack Bar when I heard the words I’d dreamed of for years. “Oi, mate, you don’t know anyone who fancies a ticket do ya? Face value.”
“What? I do. Wait there one second.”

I bounded upstairs and found Uncle Jack to tell him of this stupendous, earthshattering opportunity.

“You can go if you find someone to stand in for while you’ve gone,” came his less than encouraging reply.

Half an hour before kick-off and Where on earth was I going to find ANYONE to do that?

“But it’s the FA Cup final and some bloke is offering me a ticket.”

“Ok, go on, I’ll do it. Off you go, but be back here five minutes after the game ends or else you’re sacked.”

Twenty minutes later I was IN Wembley.

I’d been there before but never on Cup Final day, and yes I had to admit it. It was JUST a bit better than seeing the match on the black and white telly upstairs at the Collette.

The old place was pulled down many years ago and replaced by a bland office building. I’ve been a journalist covering matches at Wembley for over 35 years
now and often wish I could just pop in there for a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich.

And put Dock of the Bay on the jukebox. Over and over again.

Mike Collett, a member of the Football Writers’ Association national committee, is the author of the Complete Record of the FA Cup and the soccer editor of
Reuters.