Odds and Sods Volume 1: Four Heroes

 

Farewell, Diego

Diego Armando Maradona was not only a footballer, he was a genius.  A midget.  Latterly, a junkie.  A national hero.  Front page news as well as back page.  Loved and despised - but loved more than despised (at least outside of England).  As unpredictable off the pitch as on it.

The only other footballer I've seen with his level of ball control and sheer on-pitch genius was George Best - and the two were strikingly similar in the way they played their football and lived their lives.  Both had problems adjusting to normality once their playing days were over, and both went to an early grave (Best at 59, and now Diego at 60).  Both played in an era where most defenders could be brutal in their treatment of gifted attackers like them, and could not rely on protection from match officials.  Injuries, serious ones, were not uncommon and both suffered their share.  Pitches were often poor, mudheaps in winter and bumpy and hard as concrete by seasons' end.  Balls were heavier.  

And yet these two men could run at pace, weaving around defenders left sprawled in a heap, the ball seeming tied to their boots, skipping over challenges that would have caught lesser players.  They scored sublime goals and tap ins and often carried teams on their own such was their ability.  I wonder what they would have achieved in today's environment, with lighter balls, boots like carpet slippers to play on a pitch like the carpet in my front room, and next to no physical contact allowed?  It's frightening - but I suspect either of them would have far eclipsed today's "best players" Messi and Neymar (although I suspect Christiano Ronaldo would up his game to compete - the man's a machine).

Argentina is now in 3 days' national mourning, his body laid in state at the Presidential Palace in Buenos Aires until his private funeral next to his parents today - I can't remember any sportsman having that kind of honour at his passing, and it underscores what high regard he earned.  At his peak in the years immediately after Argentina had been roundly beaten by British forces in the Falklands Conflict, he gave the nation back its pride, and carried its team to the highest honour by winning the World Cup in 1986.  Forget the Hand of God abberation in the Quarter Final against England, his second goal four minutes later was more typical, a mazy run from deep in his own half, leaving half the England team sprawled in his wake before sliding home - genius, and the sort of goal he scored time after time throughout his career.  There is an iconic photo of him surrounded by six Belgian players - a second later and he was gone, wriggling a way through them.

So farewell, Diego,  And thanks for the memories.

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Slowhand

I watched a showing on Canal+ the other day of Eric Clapton's 70th birthday gig at the Royal Albert Hall five years ago.  He had a fine band of musicians almost as old as him (apart from the obligatory black girl back up singers) and it was great.  The man remains one of my all-time favourite musicians.

His nickname is Slowhand, and it has nothing to do with his guitar playing - there is nothing slow about that.  As a blues guitarist, whether electric or acoustic, he is without peer.  The nickname was given to him by John Mayall when Clapton was a young up-and-coming guitarist in Mayall's Bluesbreakers band, and came because he was surpisingly slow at changing a broken string mid-concert.  Whether he ever got better at that I have no idea but the nickname stuck throughout a career that spans nearly sixty years.  

The first album I ever bought, back in 1969 was Cream's "Goodbye", the last release by the original and best power trio.  Side one and the first track on side 2 were recorded live and showcased their brilliance: Jack Bruce re-defined the bass guitar and Ginger Baker was simply awesome and an inspiration to us would be drummers - after hearing that album I gave it up as a bad job.  The remaining tracks were studio cuts, including the brilliant "Badge" with Beatle George Harrison (Clapton's next door neighbour) guesting a L'Angelo Mysterioso.  But on every track, Clapton's guitar playing was the highlight.

I was lucky enough to see him live once, in I think 2006 or so.  He played a free concert on the beach in Gdynia, and my brothers-in-law and I drove the 300 odd kilometres there to see it.  Stuck in traffic, we arrived late and missed the first 15 minutes or so and had to stand way back from the stage, but it was still a terrific show.

The film on tv showed that Slowhand is now, unfortunately, slowing up.  While he is as accomplished and imaginative as ever soloing, many of the songs were taken at a slower tempo - not necessarily a bad thing, the blues doesn't have to be taken at breakneck speed.  The band was excellent, long time Clapton associates like Andy Fairweather-Low (the fresh faced lead singer in 1960s pop band Amen Corner who has matured into a good blues guitarist in his own right), Chris Stainton on piano (he was also in Gdynia and provided a beautiful piano solo at the end of "Layla"), Paul Carrack (keyboards and singer in Mike and the Mechanics and a great performer in his own right, going all the way back to Ace in the early 1970s) and Steve Gadd, one of the best jazz drummers in the world.  All in their mid 70s and still consummate performers, they came across as a pick up band of mates just having a bit of fun at the local pub.  Which is no bad thing.

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Sir Lewis?

Lewis Hamilton, like him or loathe him, is now statistically the most successful Formula 1 driver of all time.  Most race wins, most pole positions, equal most championships (ties on 7 with Michael Schumacher and likely to exceed that next year), and closing on other records like most successive championships (again probably next year), most wins from pole and most triples (pole, win and fastest lap in the same race).  There is no-one better than him in wet conditions, and not many come close in the dry.  His ability to wring the best from the car and come up with that little extra when needed to snatch a pole or race win is acknowledged by his peers and team principals alike.  He is simply an extraordinary driver and consummate racer.

And yet he is not universally liked.  It goes with the territory I guess - Schumacher was  criticised too (often with good reason: he was good at bending the rules to succeed).  His critics say he's got the best car so he should win.  Correct: but then the best drivers always end up with the best car - Schumacher at Ferrarri, Vettel at Red Bull, Senna and Prost at McLaren.  And in each case, they were all able to get more from it than their team mates.  In his rookie year, Hamilton came close to demolishing Fernando Alonso, a two time champion and one of the best drivers of his generation.  It's been the same with every team mate - except once when Nico Rosberg beat him as Mercedes team mate a few years back, won the title and promptly retired.

Off track, too, he has his critics.  He has always enjoyed the trappings of fame and fortune - the fast cars and private jets (more criticism and allegations of hypocrisy from the environmentalists who point out that his wealth comes from possibly the most polluting sport on Earth), the tattoos, the interests in music and fashion with regular appearances at high profile events.  Not to everyone's taste, including mine, but as his team boss Toto Wolff says if it doesn't interfere with his fitness, race preparation and driving (which it clearly doesn't) then where is the problem?  

This year his off-track activities have taken on a new prominance with his support for the Black Lives Matter campaign and his own work for inclusion in the workplace.  As the sport's only black driver and coming from a council house background, this was always likely to come to the fore, and in my view he is doing absolutely nothing wrong.  Without question, there is an awful lot of unfairness in the workplace, not only in F1, with women and minorities like BAME and LGBT suffering disproportinately.  In this day and age, if Lewis and his campaigning can make a difference and bring more diversity then great.  He should not be condemned for using his profile to try to make a difference.  The fact that he was able to persuade Mercedes, known throughout their time in racing as the Silver Arrows, to adopt a black livery (which in my view looks better than their traditional colours) this seaon, and for the F1 circus to adopt measures to show its support too - BLM patches on overalls and cars, pre-race solidarity demonstrations and other events) and the drivers to join him in taking a knee brfore race starts - shows the kind of clout he now carries.  It will be interesting to see how this goes in the future.

And now there are calls for a knighthood to go with his MBE.  Strictly on performance, he deserves one - if Andy Murray received one for three tennis Grand Slams (and supports the award for Lewis) then surely 7 World Championships should mean one for the driver?  Add toi that the work he is doing for charities and to promore diversity, it should be a nailed on certainty.

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My name is Bond.......

Finally, Sir Sean Connery died recently, at the ripe old age of 90.  I will miss him.

He was by far and away The Best James Bond in the movie franchise (although Daniel Craig and Pierce Brosnan in my view run him close), with an interpretation much closer to the character as written in Ian Fleming's series of books.  He looked like Bond as described in the novels, and his behaviour, often brutal and unacceptable in this day and age, was of its time and worked perfectly in that context.  The cod humour that personified in particular the Roger Moore era was very low-key and didn't always work, and the stunts and car chases rare rather dominant (but all the better for that).

But there was always more to Connery than 007.  His film catalogue included The Hill, a gripping 1950s war story; The Man Who Would Be King, an Empire romp co-starring Michael Caine and based on a Rudyard Kipling story - great fun; and A Bridge Too Far - the story of the Arnhem lnadings of 1944.  Then there was a cameo as Richard the Lionheart in Kevin Costner's reading of the legend in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (he came close to stealing the movie, except that Alan Rickman's Sherriff if Nottingham had already done so) and as Harrison Ford's dad in Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade.  He won an Oscar for his Irish cop portayal in another Costner movie The Untouchables, was convincing as a Russian submarine commander in The Hunt for Red October and channelled Bond in the action thriller The Rock with Nicolas Cage.  Among my favourite films, and it's as fine a back catalogue as any.

But the great thing about Connery was that whatever role he played, his voice and strong Scottish accent remained unchanged. 

One of my favourite actors.  He will be greatly missed.