A Man Without A Team: Boxing Day Boredom

Nothing is open. Not even Aldi. OK, Morrisons is open. (And it doesn't have an apostrophe, cos I just checked).

A football fan with a team would at this point be salivating over the following things:

* the prospect of a local derby, traditionally the Boxing Day/New Year's Day match-up. Unless you're in the Welsh Prem, in which case your 'local derby' is likely to be a village about 800 miles away or thereabouts, with no public transport and whose pubs are scared to open in case... well. In case they sell lots of beer. Which they always did when Bangor City visited. And the next year they bloody well made sure they did open and put on food. Because the City fans were always, always in good voice and good humour.

* the opportunity to get out of the house, and away from Chrimbo food/games/telly/moidering. Not that these things aren't bloody ace, of course. But it is a chance to compare tales of bad jumpers, coooked-to-a-soup sprouts and turkey that has been in the oven so long it's drier than an Oscar Wilde quip delivered by Will Self who has also recently remembered that all life is entirely pointless on a cosmic scale, and that even as a world-class, world-famous author, his work will also be dust in hundreds of years. Indeed, The Book Of Dave is in part a meditation on this very thing isn't it? Also, I just realised that Will Self looks like my mate Max, who is a top bloke and very happy usually. You probably don't know Max. You should. He's a good lad.

* Moidering with peers. And shouting at referees, half-hearted faux-hatred laced with lovely Christmas pudding puns and the like. I couldn't be arsed finding any, so here's some for kids instead. My favourite was when Bicko, fully-committed to a hugely red-faced howl of anger at the ref, stampeded from the back of the Farrar End to the front and shouted FUCK OFF YOU... TWIT, having lost his thread halfway through and run out of steam somewhat.
(EDIT: Bicko remembers it being the St. Paul's End... but the point still stands).

But I'm not gonna do any of these things today, cause I'm A Man Without A Team aren't I. Cause, let's remind ourselves, the side that finished second in the Welsh Prem last year and should have been in Europe and the Irn Bru Cup, was relegated for these reasons.

I spose that after the relegation, we're awash with local derbies though.

The City team plays Porthmadog today. I've always liked them lot. It's a great awayday, just far enough to get a bit merry and not too far to come home to get... well. Maybe merry, like when we won the league under Nigel Adkins for the first time. It was ace. I seem to remember getting a lift there and back with Sion Sebon, whose ace band were ace.

Port are a good example of a good local club. Nice enough people. Decent little ground, with a shit as fuck mudbath pitch. Bilingual all the way if not Welsh first language. And that is mighty fine say I. Port have quite a few ex Citizens in their ranks including the brilliant Sion Edwards, a Bangor lad who ought to have made it as a pro with Wrexham but was unlucky to be released. Ten years down the line, he's a legend.

But it's not really ringing true, this. It's not right. Sion - and Shaun Cavanagh, for that matter - ought to be in Bangor blue. And Bangor ought to not be in the Cymru Alliance. Cause: the side that finished second in the Welsh Prem last year and should have been in Europe and the Irn Bru Cup, was relegated for these reasons.

And enough of that. But an update, too.

What we've had recently has been a litany of fucking bullshit, to whit:

* There was a claimed 'change of ownership imminent'. Oh, right. Yeah. Except, not according to Companies House, so far anyway.

* the groundsman who has put 20 years' service in and been praised on the awesome quality of his pitches has, according to rumours anyway, not been paid for several months. Other rumours say he's taking legal action. What's not in question is that since he's been away from the club - for whatever reason - the pitch has become awful. Out of the hands of an expert into the hands of amateurs, who know maybe how to drive a big grass cutting machine. But nothing about drainage, remedial pitch work, keeping the pitch as good as possible in the worst of weather etc. There is no reason the groundsman has not been paid. Or, let's see, we haven't been given one anyway.

* This man has become the new commercial manager. I couldn't link to the Bangor City website, because the pitchero subscription has been allowed to run out. Again. (It might work when you click it. If it's been paid). This man didn't last long in the job. It's almost like there's no goodwill amongst local businesses anymore. I wonder why? How puzzling.

These are not the things I want to be thinking about on Boxing Day. The residual muck and shite on the shoes of a couple of terrible years.

I'm off to slump in front of the telly, drinking dregs of wine leftovers and chomping my way through whatever crap's left over from yesterday. It's all I've got left.

Maybe they'll go bust in 2019 eh.

Peace and love of the season to most men. But not all. There are some who can fuck right off.

PS: Kudos to Caernarfon Town FC. Today they're doing a collection before the game for a local family whose house was burgled before Chrimbo. The Cofis are above Bangor City in the league structure for the first time ever - and morally, about a galaxy above. Selah.

Here is an idea for a magazine that I had and it wouldn't leave me alone when I was asleep so I had to make it so well don't blame me ok it was my stupid brain

AMWAT: Intrigue, or not as the case may be

Rumours swirl about 'a change in ownership', which might be something of a smokescreen. Two directors are 'stepping down' - now whether that means the current regime are going to finally fuck off or not is debatable.

Rumours also have it that it's gonna just be another cardboard puppet company instead, with the current regime still behind it. But then, rumours are rumours aren't they. Here's a nice musical interlude that seems apposite at this point:







We'll see.

Gary Taylor-Fletcher came back as boss last week. GTF is a bloody awesome chap and one of the greatest players ever to have worn a Bangor shirt (yes, really: just pure class even though he can't really run anywhere anymore). But the fact he had to go and come back again is still testament to the fact that the club was relegated for being financially moronic at best.

Shall we look at the statement from the old auditors again? Oh yes, let's.

One of the minions involved with the club is a mouthy bankrupt with a predilection for the confrontational. Another is responsible for bringing this regime in, according to rumours anyway, so is ultimately culpable.

And the long-term groundsman, whose work over two and a half decades has been incredible, has not been paid for months. The reasons why? Nobody knows.

So, ultimately the question remains: if someone new, I mean, properly new, is going to sweep away this last couple of weird years and rid the club of all the gonks and shiftytits, then what are they going to actually buy? The current owners have no assets - maybe player contracts - and have just put in loans. Those loans haven't been converted into shares. So the club is in debt, although who authorised those loans is also somewhat in debate isn't it?

Seems to me that administration is being chased. And if that happens, there's not much stopping the current regime (or associated parties) making a derisory offer for the ruins, and by doing so snipping the actual main shareholders, the BCFCSA, out of the picture entirely.

So we wait, and we worry, and we know that this race has far left to run.

Let's just listen to some brilliant music for a bit instead. Oh, what should we put on? Hmm...

Yn y fynwent gwerin

Welais i’r meddyliau orau fy nghenhedlaeth yn disgyn i wallgofrwydd

Allach chi checio i mewn, ond byth yn adael

Felly cadwch dy phen, a cadwch dy arian

A geisiwch dderbynwch eich tynged

Fyddwn ni gyd yn mynd yna yn y ddiwedd:

Y Fynwent Gwerin

Ie wir.

Pum ar hugain mlynedd ar ol, clywais i sgwrs efo dwy o fy ffrindiau orau

Dal yn gredu mewn newid y byd

Drwy cerdd a drwy creu pethau newydd a rhydd

Ond un wedi boddi ei hun drwy feddwi

Ac yr llall wedi’i gladdu

Yn y fynwent gwerin

Dios mio.

Wel, mae’n amlwg does na dim atebion i fywyd. Dim atebion siml beth bynnag.

Dwi’n rasio lawr i’r un oed a’r sengl vinyl rwan

Ac rwan, os na pwynt o gwbl mewn gario mlaen

Hyd yn oed trio ddeall sut dwi dal yma?

Dwi wedi cael ddigon o’r ddrama

Yr fynwent gwerin

Grandewch.

O’r ddiwedd fe gafon ni anturiaeth peldroed. Ond ar ol hynny?

Pawb yn rhedeg i'r doctor, nid Dwygyfylchi neu Baris

Rwan dan ni gyd yn siarad am iechyd meddwl

Mae pawb yn cymryd Sertraline a SSRDs mond i deffro

Ac yn cario mlaen o dydd i dydd heb syrthio mewn

I’r mynwent gwerin

Aye. Aye.

Welais i’r meddyliau orau fy nghenhedlaeth yn disgyn i wallgofrwydd

Ond sylwais i heddiw: dim bai nhw di o.

Dim bai’r pobl yn trio cadw to dros eu ben

Dim bai’r pobl yn gweithio drwy’r stress ac austerity.

Na. Duw. Llywodraeth sydd ar bai, ie, yr un, un stori

Yn y mynwent gwerin

Ond mae’n waeth na hynny:

Yr tric orau chwaraeodd y ddiawl oedd troi brawd yn erbyn brawd

Yn y ddiwedd, ni i gyd sydd efo’r bai

Roedd ganddyn ni llawer o siawns i meddwl

Pwy yw’r pobl sydd wirioneddol yn cadw ni lawr

Yr lladron, y lladdwyr, ie: Dan ni wedi rhoi ein hunain

Yn y fynwent gwerin.

A Man Without A Team: A Team Without A Manager, Again. But This Time It's Very Interesting

Well, well, well.

Previous posts in this series have talked about the managership of Bangor City being a poisoned chalice, and also given props to SVJ for his football knowledge.

Now never in a million years did I or anyone else expect him to be named assistant manager at Mosta FC, over in Malta.

All SVJ has tweeted about it is that Mark Miller is the head coach out there. We await full confirmation of the rest.

The Vaughans have lots of history in Malta, including Floriana and Hibernians. Malta is a lovely place. Everyone ought to visit at some stage. But it is one thing going on holiday, and another thing getting in a spot of hot water like this.

To be fair, the Floriana experience seems to have been at least at one stage kinda positive for fans. Some familiar names in there, too. Gary Roberts, for one. A great player with serious flaws. We've all got our own stories though, our own troubles. City had a great season with Gary as slightly reluctant but ultimately marauding right-back, before he left under something of a cloud post-Europe. And he did possibly the most Gary Roberts-esque thing ever when, on his 30th birthday he first missed a penalty (he never missed pens) and then kind of quite rightly got sent off for a horrendous two-footed late challenge. Watch it here.

This story is breaking at the moment so expect a lot more to come out. Some rumours include:

* The return of two Bangor legends - Wembley scorer Paul Whelan and Sion Edwards - as management team, with an emphasis on local talent.

* local businesses getting together to boycott the club in terms of dealings and supplies

* bankruptcy notices being sent out.

Nothing at all in terms of facts yet (11.45am, Friday 23 November). But bloody hell, it's kind of exciting isn't it. The message boards are going mad... well. Madder. And there's only one these days to go mad. But still. What a fucking story eh. Tragic, sad, unnecessary, bullshitty, bollocksy, exciting.

City play tonight. SVJ will be there, apparently, still in charge. We wait for more info. The owners have been saying recently things like, "If you want the club back then buy it back". In fact, their loans are their only collateral because the loan-to-shares hasn't ever been authorised. The EGM and the AGM both failed to happen because of irregularities in their calling. So the BCFCSA remain major shareholder, and those loans remain a debt.

And one that people would be quite frankly stupid to buy up. Expect administration by the end of the season. Where that leaves the club, well, we can all guess can't we.

Interesting times.

In the Kitchen of the Lord

Listen to this beautiful modern hymn here

AMWAT: Recap

* U19s are losing players everywhere - and losing matches too

* the former groundsman is said to be looking at legal action to get his wages. He had been groundsman for 25 years.

* there is someone who is banned from football, involved in the club in several ways. And shouting at everyone else.

* the BCFCSA, which had gone dormant, is now reactivating itself. A meeting is scheduled. This is sensible, ahead of a crucial AGM vote re. transfer of loans into shares.

* crowds continue to fall to half of last season's average, and probably an eighth of what a successful and honest team on the pitch would attract


Since I started writing what's more or less a personal diary of this season, I've lost all faith in football. I've lost 35 years of support and love and frustration and the occasional triumph. I've lost the possibility of heading to weird little places and meeting people I've not seen for months or years, and having a jar with them like it'd been only a couple of hours.

I've written less poetry, less prose, fewer words. It feels I am a bit blocked-up by this bullshit. I'm entirely less motivated by anything now. Just... whatever. Treading water.

But.

The meeting of the BCFCSA and what might come of that is a spark that might relight the flame. I am sick of being downbeat and lost and holed.

Course, you could say that the old club was lost a couple of years back when this path was taken, for whatever reason. Course, you could say we'd be in Cymru Alliance now anyway, skint and struggling. But ya know. It'd've been relatively honestly done, at least. I think most of us - a lot of us anyway - are ready for the edifice to fall.

What was it that Malcolm McLaren used to say? Believe in the ruins?

Mind you, one of his other slogans was Cash from Chaos wasn't it. Which is kinda where we came in.

In years to come we'll know Who Killed Bambi.

A Man Without A Team: The End Game?

We now know why Bangor City failed the licence, and it's not particularly happy reading. Here's the auditors' rather uncompromising explanation, courtesy of the Daily Post.

And here's an analysis by a Chester City fan. Chester were also taken for something of an interesting ride by the same owners, and that didn't end well either.

There's also been much coverage of a money-laundering crackdown promised by the government.

Now whether that extends to semi-professional football clubs, or is relevant in any case, is debatable.

What isn't debatable is that fans - ordinary fans, people who just want to watch a game - are talking about tipping off the national economic crime centre about their own club.

Let's just pause to let that one sink in.

Meanwhile the comrades continue to gather outside of the walls. There will be another way, but it will be messy getting there. When long-standing supporters like J D-J feel alienated, things really are in the end game.

There's a residual angle being pushed forward by regime-ish characters, and that is that the former administration are culpable because they authorised the handover of power to the current regime. There's some twisted logic to it isn't there. Like, "it's your fault, you knew they were bad apples". Which is kind of like the Fast Show character that is a bit of a geezer, who tells you he's gonna take your stuff, and duly does.

Whose fault is it? The person who's been told they're gonna get robbed, but falls into the trap anyway? Or the person doing the robbing?

Obviously, it's the robber isn't it.

Anyone trying to blame the innocent person for naivety is on very shaky moral ground indeed.

There is an AGM coming up, at which the shareholders will vote on whether the regime's loans can indeed be converted into shares. This would make VSM majority shareholder. It might well be the case that absentee shareholders don't vote. That would be another step toward the end. Once the VSM loans are shares, the club will be responsible for servicing that debt should they call it in. And that means whoever might want to take over will have to find the best part of 500k to clean up the club.

And, well, what was that about the new crime centre?

Ay, ay, ay. What tangled webs.

AMWAT: Another GM

So there is gonna be an Annual General Meeting, and it looks like it's been called properly in plenty of time. Which is a start isn't it.

I expect all shareholders will get the agenda in due course. The interesting part will be when it's discussing the ratification of the loan-to-shares that the notional owners decided to give themselves about six months or so ago. Should that happen to be rubber-stamped then they will truly own the majority shareholding, legally, and - well - the implications of that are fairly obvious.

The interim/caretaker manager might well stay on I guess. He's pursuing his UEFA badges and might decide to do that with the first team rather than the U19s. He does talk the talk, but the financial side entirely overshadows everything else.

Talking of the age groups, there are rumours that kids are being asked to pay for trials with the academy system. No idea if there's any truth in that, but what is undeniable is that on falling from grace and being ejected from the Welsh Prem the club lost funding assistance for the academy. So that cash - £19k was mentioned but I've no idea if that's true - that cash has been lost. What happens next is again unclear.

So the mire and the swampy tread continue to sink the club.

We might have been challenging for the Welsh Prem this season. It was all going in that direction. Maybe we'd have progressed in Europe. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

And now?

AMWAT: I see the future and it is called hope

No comment needed. Love and unity will bring us through this strange and difficult time.

O noes Xmas cancellated omg wot omg ffs

Christmas has been renamed

Winterval

Halloween has been replaced

By Autumnval

Poppies have been banned

For shame

Bonfire Night has been slammed

For its name

This year Jesus will not be

Allowed in school

No angels on top of trees

It’s PC rules

Does anyone really ever believe this shit?

Does anyone really ever believe this shit?

Does anyone really ever believe this shit?

Does anyone really ever believe this shit?

Does anyone really ever believe this shit?

Does anyone really ever believe this shit?

Does anyone really ever believe this shit?

Does anyone really ever believe this shit?

Never mind PC

It’s Racist Cunts gone mad

Can’t blame social media really

Just people

The next generation will see

Right through

This shit This shit

This shit This shit

This shit This shit

This shit This shit

Because if you live online

You know

That mostly it’s all lies

And so

It’s only us older fuckers

That read

A Facebook update

And seethe

The young ‘uns won’t believe this shit

The young ‘uns won’t believe this shit

The young ‘uns won’t believe this shit

The young ‘uns won’t believe this shit

The young ‘uns won’t believe this shit

The young ‘uns won’t believe this shit

The young ‘uns won’t believe this shit

The young ‘uns won’t believe this shit

With luck

They’ll see it off, thank fuck

Virtual worlds will matter

And so

Personality will shatter

And so

Bring it Bring it

Bring it Bring it

Bring it Bring it

Bring it Bring it

We’ve had our chance and look at the fucking state

Of it

We’ve never really understood the fucking shape

Of it

Bring it Bring it

Bring it Bring it

Bring it Bring it

Bring it Bring it

Bring it Bring it

Bring it Bring it

Bring it Bring it

Bring it Bring it

The kids are alright.

AMWAT: Stockholm Syndrome

I can't help but like our Director of Football from his interviews. This one, for example, he comes across as pretty articulate and honestly committed to the club.

I mean, his signings have nearly all been pretty excellent over the last few years.

But the problem was never on the pitch was it? Until now, at least.

It's a strange old situation this isn't it. Very strange indeed.

Ay carumba. Amidst all the absolute nonsense maybe this can be turned around yet.

Can it?

Or have I had too much Henry Westons?

Is there such a thing as too much Henry Westons? I mean. It's not exactly Frosty Fucking Jack is it. This shit is tasty. Henry Westons was clearly made from actual apples, rather than counting as cider because one of the cousins of one of the workers in whatever chemical plant they mix Frosty Jack in once saw a magazine article about Apple Computers. I like to think of it as Trampagne. But then that makes me a hypocrite doesn't it, given the amount of Frosty's I've drunk over the years. Although the seventh post here makes me a bit worried.

And.

I just realised I said 'our' again in that first sentence.

Once your team has got you it's for life really isn't it.

I am very confused at the moment.

I started with Jack and I'll end up in the shit one way or another I guess. Selah.

A Man Without A Team: A Team Without A Man(ager)

Well, well, well.

Something of an inevitability about the fact that Craig Harrison has taken his delicious decolletage to warmer climes, that is to say, Connah's Quay.

Now, the reason given is that Mooby-boobies wanted to take a full-time job on. That's understandable. It's non-league football isn't it. And, yes, I know the Welsh Prem is on paper the top league in Wales, but it's still about the standard of the bloody NPL at best. Anyway, City are in the Cymru Alliance which is non-league in those terms too.

SVJ - who has been a footballer, at least, and seems to have decent contacts for players - has taken over along with Alan Lewer (who two years back came to us, went to Southport, came back, went again, had a testimonial vs Liverpool U23s) and Luke 'Persil' Purcell, who apparently is general manager at the club.

There are rumours players weren't getting paid. Rumours are rumours. Nothing you can do to stop them, and nothing to stop speculation apart from clear and frank communication. Which has hardly been the strong point round those parts for three years or so, has it.

So yeah. Usual names will be linked won't they. Mark Wright, Neil Young, probably fucking Zebedee from the Magic Roundabout. Alan Morgan was our assistant boss to Nev in some of the early successes, so chuck that into the ring too. And, of course, Phil Baker has just retired from playing. Well, take your pick.

So The Most Successful Boss In Welsh Domestic Football (yeah, yeah, I know) has gone. He followed GTF and Kev Nic out the door just a few months after being hailed as the saviour to lead us back to the promised land (trips to the Franchise eight times a season). GTF followed Ian Dawes, who was gonna do great things when they went full-time (and got sacked for not being on a course for the Pro License). Dawes followed Andy Legg, who lasted two months before departing (no real reason given aside from talk he couldn't commit to full-time, specially living in Nottingham). Legg followed Nev Powell, who'd initially been told he was given a budget and would be backed 100%.

I did write a while back that it was the definition of a poisoned chalice, and Harrison's got the hell outa Dodge soon as he realised exactly what was going on around him.

Hardly a shock that this has happened again, is it. I'm not surprised, but I am a bit sad that this merry-go-round of malignancy is still whirring and chucking out dogshit at all that surround it. Sooner the gears break and it's condemned by the council, the better.

And yeah fuck all those metaphors. What an absolute joke that club has become.

In the real world, things still happen. We lost a great comrade this week. Someone whose passion and heart and support took him all round Europe well into his eighth decade on the planet. Small mercies I guess that he missed out on this latest piece of nonsense.

RIP DR.

Whoops Oedipocalypse

Oedipus Rex

Whipped off his kecks

And plopped the thing between his legs

Into his wife,

Which they both liked

So they did it night after night.

He was the king;

He beat the sphinx.

He solved the riddle she’d asked him:

Once voice, one life

But who at times

Has four, then two, then three feet nigh?

Oedy-lad

Knew it was man

And smugly gave his answer back.

He was correct.

And off he went

To marry Queen Jocasta next.

The couple did

What couples did

As then, as now: they had four kids.

They all survived

As Thebes thrived

Until plague struck the city’s lives.

The Oracle

At Delphi knew

How to hold off the city’s doom.

King Laius lost,

His killer must

Be brought to justice. Oedipus

Sought counsel through

A prophet, who

Let slip that Laius, in his tomb,

Lay dead because

Out in the dust

Our Oedipus had bashed him up.

It came out that

He’d killed his dad.

He didn’t know, because he had

Been stitched up:

Been brought up

By Polybus and not killed off

Which was the plan.

But a herdsman

Had saved the baby way back. And

Jocasta cried.

Jocasta died.

And Oedi poked out his own eyes.

Oedipus Rex

From birth was hexed.

His life laid out, his future wrecked.

Was he to blame?

Could he have changed

The world once things were put in place?

Laius was

A filthy sod

Who’d cut holes in his little lad

Just cause some fool

Had said: Whoa, dude,

This baby’s gonna, like, kill you

Justice was served:

Laius deserved

All that befell him, all we’ve heard.

A twisted tale

Of love that failed

Of death and weirdness, lives curtailed.

Oedipus Rex

Took off his kecks

And put the thing between his legs

Into another,

And discovered

He was a fucking motherfucker.

Moral: If a weird dude tells you that your newly-born son is going to one day kill you, don’t leave him out on a mountain where anyone could find him. In fact, tell the weird dude to piss off and bring the kid up yourself so he knows right from wrong. Jesus, I mean. Come on.

Wearable Poem: Snowflakes

AMWAT Supplemental: Message Boards

There's still one that's active. People are posting there, but some have been put off by the latest shenanigans.

The accounts are out and they don't make great reading: a big hole of where a certain amount of cash has actually come from exists. This may well be the reason the auditors couldn't sign off the paperwork and why the club failed its license.

Anyway. Whilst grubbing around in the dungy effluence of the Internet I found a previous message board, which is technically still alive but from which there was a mass migration elsewhere in about 2015.

It is very informative, and goes back to about 2013/14. This is what discussions largely were:

* Nev Powell has done his best but it's time to go.
* Nev Powell is paid too much.
* When other people point out that success deserves positive promotion and attendant rewards, they are referred to the previous two points.
* The board are useless and don't put in any money.
* The board has stolen 30k for a tax bill.
* The board must go.
* Nev must go.
* I am banned from other sites because I say Nev should go.
* The Nev Lovers are heads-in-sand ostriches.
* The Nev-Loving board is deluded.
* Player X is injured and should not be being paid.
* The BCFCSA unilaterally handed over 30k to the board without asking the people that raised it.

I say discussions, but it was generally the same three or four people under various aliases repeating themselves and getting hot under the collar when they were caught talking to themselves. Some other themes:

* X is gay and does gay sex.
* The franchise posts links to franchise stories, trying to drive traffic there (shameful isn't it).
* X is not a Bangor fan.
* Where has the money gone?

And, disgruntled and mischievous/annoying people also did things like:

* Posting the same message in a flood of different languages, taking two or three pages up with drivel.
* Posting song lyrics over two, three or four pages.

It's kind of how to kill a message board isn't it.

What does this all mean? Well, in retrospect this is what was going on, pre-the current regime getting involved.

* Bangor had gambled on getting into Europe again, but when they didn't, there was a huge hole financially (the club was actually in profit in the early 2010s)
* The league-winning team was not added to effectively in a particular January transfer window, and lots of money was wasted on a couple of dodgy signings that didn't help.
* Rent on Nantporth was and is absolutely crippling, as are running costs of the facility. Farrar Road in its latter years was being paid for by the developers so that eased the purse strings and we won the league.
* The 30k tax bill was down as I understand to the fact that travel-to-work (training, games) was not in fact exempt from taxation, and therefore this mistake needed rectifying. Talk was that a certain midget had grassed City up, but there's no proof.
* There really was no other option but for the terrace money, the 30k, to be given to keep the club going at all. It was either that or a club that went bust. (In retrospect that might have been a better option, and we'd have a terrace and a team untouched by... well we all know who... and we might be in the Welsh Alliance, but damnit it would be honest).

So things were far from rosy before the current regime took over. And, in fact, when the consortium was announced it was almost miraculous. Until the news about who they were came out, of course.

Things were in dire straits a couple of seasons back. Something needed to happen.

It was the wrong choice with whom to get involved. Plain and simple.

And the person that engineered it is to blame.

Maybe the rest of the board got sideswiped and conned. Maybe they knew. I don't believe they or the BCFCSA as major shareholder (shares issued for that 30k) would ever have voted it through had they known. No chance.

Ay carumba.

You lie down with dogs, you're gonna get fleas.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Uncestry.com

AMWAT Xtra: Message muddle

EDIT: The way things are moving, most of this was out of date and some of it inaccurate mere minutes after it was posted. I've left it as is because I think it shows quite well the way things are going and how it makes me, at least, feel. Sad times.


The former team has two active message boards. One has a password and is kinda more sedate and considered whilst the other is more unruly and libellous.

The unruly one often has people starting fights with people on the sedate one. This goes way back to when Nev Powell was in charge. There were two factions:

1. Those who loved the bloke for his record of three Welsh Cup wins on the trot, a league championship against the odds, many European adventures and one season where City went to the last game of the season only to lose 6-0 to the Franchise in the league decider, plus losing the Welsh Cup Final. The seasons after that weren't great, and honestly the money was frittered away on chasing the dream, but he stayed around to fight relegation and succeeded twice. Nev was also a player in the 1980s who has a real affinity for the club, having played in Europe and also nearly got promoted to what is now the conference (losing out by one point after topping the league much of the season.) 

This faction supported Nev staying and trying to rebuild. I mean, I was amongst them. Can't stand chopping and changing, new boss every season, hundreds of players passing through, all that crap. Hey ho.

2. Those who saw all the above and concentrated more on the aftermath of the dream; the relegation battles and the empty coffers; even the wages the manager was paid. This faction considered Powell to have been the architect of all that was wrong about the dodgy seasons, and wanted him out so someone else could have a go. New players, new board, all that.

So there was always tension. Of a sort, anyway. At the end of the day it was all quite tame stuff.

That's until the regime began to start its shenanigans. Then, it was more like this:

2. You lot were all for them and we always said they were dodgy. You are collaborators.

1. Yeah, not really. That's not actually true is it.

2. You lot were all for them... etc

To the extent of actually calling out individual fans - long-term fans at that - for their perceived apologism for the regime. Always, this was erroneous. Naughty, really.

Even then though it was all just about within the limits of reason.

Last week, Message Board 1 suddenly had threats, multiple posts, weird vibes about it. It had at some extent been hacked.

Seems that someone had locked the administrator out of the email account they'd used for the board, and in doing so requested a change of password, and therefore took control of it.

I mean how fucking petty can you get.

The background to all this is the now, nearly-quaint situation where a certain midget connected to a certain franchise was rumoured to send threats of legal action to the admins of various different boards that had been used over the years. A series of message boards started up then went silent under these threats; maybe four or five. But the fans still found another one to use, until threats happened and the whole circus went round and round and round again and again and again.

This, though, was and is different.

This is what we've come to here is it? Hijacking a message board to try and smoke out people from underneath their alias? To do what? 

Instead of just, ya know, enjoying the ride and handling things professionally like paying bills and doing accounts properly?

Is it really the case that hacking into one of the few gathering places for demoralised fans is the way to get everyone on the same side again?

Fuck me, this is as far from my club and my team as I could imagine. What a load of absolute nonsense.

The password board is back up - ostensibly from the original admin - but the trust has gone and I won't be posting anymore. Lurking, maybe. Posting - what's the point?

Scorched fucking earth.

AND IT IS ONLY FUCKING FOOTBALL ISN'T IT

Agafuckingdoo Batman.

UPDATE: Literally as this was being posted the Message Board 1 has been closed, with the following text all that is left:

Due to the lack of interest this guestbook is now closed.
I opened this forum 5 years when 2 other well known forums were forced to close. People wanted a forum password protected to stop trolls and troublemakers having it shut down. I set this one up and have paid a yearly subscription to enable me to password protect it and to keep it ad free. Bangor city blues was also closed down in 2015 while we kept going strong. I am no longer willing to do this if people are not willing to use it. 
I only hope that when the chat forum gets closed down someone else is willing to put the time and expense into opening another protected platform. 
I would also like to add I was approached yesterday asking if I was the admin of the chat site or if I could give any details as to who runs it. As this came from a legal source I can not give any further details.

Also just for the record to stop the rumour mill that is going round. The change of email address lately to request the password has been changed because I ME MYSELF got locked out of the previous one. The email address was only used for people requesting passwords nothing to do with this forum and the set up just for the passwords so people can stop with the conspiracy theories now!
Thanks

Admin

AMWAT Wk7: Roofs and bins

I live a few doors down from a roofer. He's a good lad, and fixed some flashing for us in a massive rainstorm once. It's a very neat job, too.

At the moment he and colleagues are busily restoring an entire roof for him and his neighbour. So I keep thinking someone's knocking at the door, when actually it's the sound of them hammering. They're fixing it properly, so that when it does piss it down - which is inevitable in the UK - the house won't get wrecked and flooded and fucked and be useless and not fit for purpose and condemned and all that.

Fix the roof when the weather's good. It's an old saying isn't it. And, well, you can't argue can ya.

Every Monday is bin day round here; it alternates between the less-popular Brown Bin, which is for garden stuff, and Grey Bin, which is household waste. Recycling is also the same week as Grey Bin. So every Sunday evening I do the bins, cos it's my job to do the bins whilst the First Mrs Shoo watches Strictly on Ice or whatever fucking rubbish is on. I don't mind really. It is a bit of a smelly job, but it needs to be done. (And that's just watching X-Fuckers LOLOL*)

I think the evening's the right time to do bins, personally. If it's out all day it will stink and make the street look rubbish and attract pests and bits of errant Aldi's Finest Sausage Roll packaging will dance devilsong down the street on the rampaging wings of a mutinous breeze.**

Not everyone thinks like I do.

Next door likes to do the bins soon as they get up on a Sunday, and thus they have a very, very good chance of Winning Bin***. They're usually in the top three on the street, anyway. There's another house quite near the top of the road that is always well early, too. It's a fascinating battle that I observe on my travels to and from town to wander about looking for weird kitchen gadgets in charity shops.

But because the roofers have had to access the back and front of the house, seems to me that they've had to move the bins out the way. So, yesterday - Saturday - at about 2pm, when me and The First Wife went for a promenade to Aldi to seek out 50% offers on rapidly-wilting spinach, we noticed that magic had happened.

There was a single Grey Bin out.

Plus associated recycling boxes.

The roofers had Won Bin - and won it by quite some stretch. So, as they'd started at about 9am, I calculate that the bin was out about 48 hours before it was to be collected. That's some impressive Bin Winning isn't it?

It's kind of how it feels these days to look for my former team's results on Twitter. They went 2-0 up then let in two quick goals. Extra time saw them win a crappy league cup game 4-2 against another crappy side who we used to play in a higher league that we got kicked out of because the roof fell in.

___

* This is a brilliant joke, fuck off.
** Proper writing here.
*** Grey Bin is the prize really. Winning Brown Bin doesn't mean all that much. Not everyone joins in with Brown Bin every two weeks. It's very mulch-dependent, is Brown Bin. One for the connosieurs. Maybe the futsal version compared to the 11-a-side Cup Game that is Grey Bin.

Mens insania

Mens sana innit

(I mean, it isn’t.)

Thick-thick-thick

Sludgy-pudgy-fludgy

There seems no point

Or end to it.

Healthy mind? Oh, well

I think that went away a while

Ago. Ago. Aggro.

Cider-lager-vodka

There always was more

And that did it.

I forgot to turn on the power

To the ol’ washer-dryer

Stink-stink-stink

Gruds-shirts-socks.

It’s chugging on now

And that is it:

The zenith of my productive

Ability today. But who gives

A fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks

And all the other swears

And fuck this shit.

Mens sana? What about it?

I’m not sure I even want it.

Tick-tick-tick

Hours, seconds, minutes

The end is gonna come along

So why fight it?

A Man Without A Team: Week Six/Keeping My Hands

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A Man Without A Team: Week Five/Tramadrama

I don't think that anyone's remotely surprised at the news that the EGM has been postponed.

The reason given is that 'shareholders requested it'. Now I know some of the shareholders, and I'm not sure they actually did request a delay. What is certain is that the EGM would have needed an agenda and the latest accounts to be sent out to the shareholders in advance, in order to be legal.

I'm not sure any of that info was sent out, and I'm not sure that the EGM was announced with the legal amount of notice either. Fourteen days is the minimum, unless a majority of shareholders agree to quorum quicker than that. Given that there's a huge question mark over exactly who the majority shareholders are, I doubt that happened either.

So here we are again. On the pitch, they won 1-0 at the weekend. The amount of people that care is dwindling even further. Yes, stray/lone voices do still say 'Support the lads on the pitch', and I completely understand why they call for this. I mean, nobody wants to fucking know about what shenanigans happen off the pitch. I didn't sign up for Bangor City Financial News Weekly did I. I haven't spent thousands of hours of my life cheering as the income and outgoings are balanced by an accountant. I haven't got excited when the secretary has bought a new pen. I've not bought a beanie hat with a picture of an agreed overdraft against future European earnings on it.

I mean. We all want to support the lads on the pitch. The biggest tragedy of it all is that the link - traditionally stronger than most - between the players and the fans has been broken. That isn't easy to do, but it has happened here. Ask the supporters of FC United. Of Liverpool AFC. Of St. Pauli. Even, at one stage, of Swansea City (not anymore though, sadly). Brighton. Blackpool. Darlington. Hyde United. Newcastle. The once-mighty Altrincham, Ask them why they have built their own edifices if they could. Ask them why and when and how their hearts were broken by Manchester United, Liverpool, whoever.

They just wanted to support lads on the pitch too. But the off-pitch financial nonsense killed it for them. From the Glazers and their debts to the UAE Human Rights Champions, from the Russian mobsters to the money-launderers, the shit sportswear wankers and the downright gangsters, there have been some pretty unsavoury characters involved with the cash business of football. Ask them why they got involved. Before you do, make sure you say goodbye to your loved ones, and get them the antidote for Novichock on ice.

The other day, on my way to Morrisons to look for marked-down bread rolls, I passed the back of a slightly gnarly pub. It's good too: they have regular Elvis appearances, and memorably once me and my mate half-crashed a party at which first Specials then Sham 69 then the Oppressed blasted out over the jukebox. In the alleyway near it, you do sometimes see a couple of characters who seem to be lending each other money in return for... well. You never see what's passed between them. You can guess.

This time, though, the 7.30pm bite of the crashing night had kicked in; it had been a gorgeous autumn day of sun and sharp breezes. Out the corner of my eye I spotted something on the floor, something shiny and plasticky and flat. I picked it up. It was clearly medication of some kind. I looked closer and saw the legend: TRAMADOL.

The pack was empty.

I threw it in the recycling and went on my way, wondering what might have become of me had it had any pills left in the blister pack.

UPDATE: A few hours after this was first posted, someone connected to the club claimed on Facebook that the postponement of the EGM was requested by the BCFCSA's (former) chairman. The veracity of this is unclear. But the fact remains that the EGM wasn't announced in the correct time period anyway, and the status of the 2017 accounts remains unclear too. Back to square one, then. The usual half-truths, misdirections and ineptitude mixed with bubbling latent aggression seems to rule these days.

A Man Without A Team: Week Four

I mean, it's nearly October and I feel entirely empty. I can't even be arsed watching Match of the Day.

The former club turned around a half-time 3-1 deficit to win 5-3 in the entirely useless League Cup of the league they find themselves in due to financial shitness.

Yawn.

Anyone who asks questions about where the money is coming from, why they failed the license, who is in charge, etc etc etc gets the stock response:

"Come down to the club any time. We don't reply over social media."

Now let's just check why some people think that doing this might not be such a great idea. It would - to some - seem a little foolish for anyone to countenance going to meet people 'for a chat' whose history includes this.

Course, as a wooly left-wing bleeding-heart Remoaner snowflake, I am firmly of the opinion that people who transgress and serve their punishment deserve a fresh slate.

Is it really so difficult to address the issues in a press release once and for all?

Like, explaining this?

Ah well. It's only a game isn't it.

UPDATE 4.30PM: There have been quite a few exchanges on social media, including my own, with the owners/their reps. No answers have been forthcoming, but an EGM has been called on Sept 27. Now the statutory notice period is 14 days, unless agreed otherwise by a majority of members. The BCFCSA was majority shareholder until the current owners converted their loans to shares (and whether procedure was followed there is debatable still). We are, of course, 10 days away from the EGM date. Hopefully this means answers will be forthcoming sooner rather than later; there are a series of questions that have been batted back by the owners as per the above post. We can only wait and see what the EGM is about.

I'm not an expert - far from it - but a cursory Google search brings up some interesting legal requirements about meeting contents and matters to be discussed that are at the time of writing this not anywhere near the EGM announcement online by the club.

Anyway, back to Mrs. Doyle...

A Man Without A Team: Another nail in the coffin

Nobody expects angels on the pitch. Sort of the opposite really.

But up to a reasonable point. Go in hard, commit, wind players up, do everything to win.

But not everything that is possible to do.

Some things - racism from a midfielder of my former club who is somehow also the captain - are absolutely unacceptable.

I am glad that they are not my team anymore. Awful off the pitch - and on it.

This is the twitter of the opposition's striker. It's legit. Bangor's manager has apologised.

A Man Without A Team: Of Moobs And Men

Bangor lost at Airbus 3-2. This used to be a Welsh Premier fixture.

I once got a row off my missus because I got into some verbals with their subs bench at their ridiculous, cold, shitty ground in Broughton. I think we lost that one too. We always fucking lose there, it's a shit place to go and I've always hated it. Well, anyway.

I didn’t go to the game, although it briefly crossed my mind to do so. One reason was that there’s another bit of nonsense going on; this time it’s Companies House who are looking to strike the company off the books. The club say it’s ‘an admin delay’ based on a confirmation statement – info on exactly who is a director, and who are the shareholders – that hasn’t yet been filed. Well, the petition is active as of 11 September, which is a date with resonances far beyond the madcap antics of the clowns in charge.

Course, the club says it’s an oversight. They still haven’t provided the books for the supporters’ association to look at yet. And, in fact, the long-standing BCFCSA who have raised probably £100,000 or more over the last decade for the club have themselves gone dormant after the chairman stepped down. Nobody blamed him, nor any of the other officers who have similarly not been motivated to give up their hours, expertise and souls to keep a club running that has been snatched away from us all.

So my former team lost 3-2, after coming back from a 2-0 half time deficit. Cue calls for a new boss, but half-hearted ones: really, people are hoping that the company is stricken from the record so something – someone – can start again. Comrades are watching carefully.

The club also hosted a Wales Under-21 International last week. Not that anyone knew about it, or could buy tickets: another massive oversight. These games are bloody prestigious for a club at City’s level and not to push them is ridiculous. Comrades who watched the game on telly noted that the once-full advertising hoardings around the pitch looked patchy and absent. Anecdotally, local businesses are not renewing because they don’t want to be associated with the regime. Also as we’re not on telly every week anymore it’s not a good investment either. Res ipsa loquitor, and all that.

One of the message board discussions, with typical gallows humour, has been an admiration of Bangor City’s current (at the time of writing) manager Craig Harrison. The hapless boss is blessed with what you may well call ‘a fine pair of jugs’, his full figure attracting comments along the lines of ‘I’m only going to watch them bounce up and down when we score’, and other heartfelt sentiments. God only knows what Harrison is thinking at the moment. Maybe something along the lines of, ‘Er what the fuck have I got myself into.’ Or maybe, ‘Damn it I said let’s get better in the gymnasium, not get gynaecomastia.’[i]

What is true, and not funny at all, is that Connah’s Quay went to Falkirk and won their Irn Bru Cup game, played at roughly the time the Citizens were trying and failing to turn around the deficit at Hairbrush. The Falkirk game is exactly the match City should have been playing in, having earned it on the pitch by finishing second in the league last season. Irony? No. Just pure fuckheadery. How far we have fallen.

Here’s the team that earned it, and where they have ended up – squad numbers not noted. I’ve gone old school. This line-up played the final league game of 2017-18, away at Bala. Both goals were absolutely wonderful: the first, by Steve Hewitt, should have won Goal of the Season on Sgorio but one of his other goals did; a cracker at Aberystwyth. It also shows the potential and class of the side that was being built. George Harry’s winner was a touch of quality, too.

1.       Matthew Hall – nominated as WPL Young Player of the Year. Now at Cardiff U-23s

2.       Guto Williams – young local talent, perhaps the best since Owain Tudur Jones. Now studying at, and playing for, Cardiff Met ‘on loan’. Doubtful we’ll see him again.

3.       Tom Kennedy – ex-Leicester, Rochdale, Bury defender. Retired.

4.       Luke Wall – hugely talented midfielder/winger coveted by many clubs. Offers came in throughout the season, big rumours the franchise put in a 5-figure fee. WPL Young Player of the Season. Now at Stalybridge Celtic, in the NPL where City used to play. It’s below his level.

5.       Anthony Miley – captain and long-serving defender, who nearly won a contract with Swindon Town in one of those weird TV shows that were briefly popular. Signed for Bala, played in Europe, and scored an own goal in that game too.

6.       Danny Gossett – also at Bala, the ex-Oldham pro was one of the best players of last season, debuting for Wales C. Had trials for various professional clubs in the summer.

7.       Joel Bembo-Leta – a January signing to City, bolstering the defence and the physical presence. Current whereabouts unknown but based in Manchester he no doubt has plenty of choice.

8.       Alex Darlington – talented ex-Wrexham pro who then went on to be a central part of the franchise’s success for many years. Injuries have slowed him, but the No. 10 is struggling in the Cymru Alliance with Bangor City.

9.       Steven Hewitt – the man who has played in the Championship with Burnley and League Two with Accrington Stanley. A brilliant midfielder, he surprisingly came back to Nantporth to sign for the season after initially leaving in the exodus at the end of 2017-18.

10.   Dean Rittenberg – one-time Blackburn Rovers youth prospect and the third Bangor City player to be nominated for the WPL Young Player of the Year. The scouse lad shocked many when he signed for Cefn Druids. Given he has four England Under-18 caps, it’s quite the fall.

11.   Laurence Wilson – experienced defender with 250+ games in the English Professional System under his belt. Represented England at all youth levels up to and including Under-19. Now at Connah’s Quay.

SUBS

12.   Connor Roberts – ex-Everton and Chester keeper; one of the best Bangor had had for a decade. Instrumental in helping stave off relegation, twice, on the pitch. Off the pitch not even he could help. Absolutely brilliant between the sticks, he was unlucky that Matt Hall broke through. Now at the franchise, which is near his Shropshire-area home. Once called up to the senior Wales squad.

13.   Gethin Thomas – local lad who came through the Under-19s and signed a contract for the first team. Still at club.

14.   George Harry – ex-Wrexham prospect and clearly a talent. Scored a fabulous goal in the last few minutes of the final game of last season to ensure City finished second and earned the right to play in Europe. Which they didn’t. Now at Llandudno.

15.   Sam Jones – consistent goalscorer for all youth sides, another Under-19s player who was beginning to break through. Still at club.

These lads should have been in Scotland yesterday. That they weren’t is a disgrace.

The current players are blameless, of course. But that they are there at all is a horrible truth that lies atop a pyramid of lies, cheating, criminal rumours and legal weirdness.

This should have been the team that I supported. The team that grew together and challenged for the league. They are scattered as the team is shattered.

I am a man without a team.

---

[i] This is a brilliant joke.

Tilling

If I could just reach into the past

I would make a present

Of my future:

We live, we think

Not then, or tomorrow,

But in a constantly-moving, eternal now-

Moment broken when noticed-

Chased-

Named.

‘Be melting snow’ says Rumi,

‘Wash yourself of yourself’.

Pomegranate seeds, our essence,

Sweeten the arid ground

Readying the rough dirt;

Hope.

Fancy A Bowl?

Words Become Delinquent

I dropped a rhyming couplet somewhere near.

So if you find it, could you bring it here?

I had it in my pocket, but – oh dear! –

I didn’t even feel it disappear.

The metre of the words was just iambic;

It wasn’t all that fanciful or classic.

Loosely themed round something faux-romantic,

You’d recognise it if you ever passed it.

Alas! Fie! Woe is me! - and all that nonsense

That men in tights should say on stage with glee -

But for myself, well, I’d rather drink essence

Of Skol and Frosty Jack mixed with cat pee.

So if you find my couplet, please do stop it

From joining in a deviant, foul sonnet.