Mistletoe's Musings

I have a lot to say about football which I inflict on you even though the majority of you have no idea what the game is or the attraction. Today's footballers are fabulously well paid, move around between clubs and even countries to fulfill their ambitions of glory. Today is the funeral of one of the giants of the game - Nat Lofthouse of Bolton Wanderers.


He was born the same year as my dad 1925. Here he is talking to another great of that era, Jimmy Armfield.


Like my dad, he was 14 when the Second World War broke out. Like my dad he went down the pit. Lofthouse was a Bevan Boy, men conscripted into the coal mines to keep the coal coming while others went off to war. Unlike my dad he had already signed for Bolton Wanderers and became part of their legend.

He played two FA Cup Finals that passed into legend. In 1953 he was on the losing side against Blackpool in what became known as the Matthews Final when the two Stans, Matthews and Mortensen, won the cup for Blackpool. Lofthouse scored, but the feat was lost in the euphoria of Sir Stanley Matthews winning the FA Cup at the age of 38.



In the 1958 Cup Final, he scored the winner, famously barging Manchester United goalkeeper Harry Gregg into the net in the process. Vic Halom did the same thing in 1973 and the goal was disallowed. Not in the 50s. They won 2 - 0 with Nat scoring both goals against the survivors of the Munich Air Disaster that had decimated the Manchester Utd team 3 months before.


He played centre forward for England between 1950 and 1958, scoring 30 times in 33 games, an unparalleled goals to games ratio. He earned the nickname Lion of Vienna in 1952, scoring his second goal against Austria in spite of being elbowed in the face, tackled from behind and brought down by the goalkeeper.

His funeral is happening now, attended by the great and good of football, members of the Royal Lancaster Regiment who are forming a guard of honour down the street and children from Nat Lofthouse's school where he was discovered as a schoolboy player. His name adorns one of the stands at Reebok Stadium, Bolton Wanderers home ground, and his legend will live on. One of a kind.

Nice day. Only one friend out for lunch. I had a very tasty steak pie.





I feel in need of a Booth fix. In keeping with the current month's theme I'm going to look at who Booth encounters in Season 2 that could have been a friend, but wasn't.


( The real Seeley Booth: rivalries in the workplace. )

There will be a shorter coda to Season 2 to come.

RIP Pete Postlethwaite. He was a consummate actor, with a remarkable range, from Father Lawrence in Romeo and Juliet to Danny, a dying miner and brass band conductor in Brassed Off. He was Oscar nominated for his role in In the Name of the Father. I found him magnetic to watch.

Some language in this extract so NSFW. Here the colliery band have won the national championship at the Royal Albert Hall. His speech says it all.

Watched the Remembrance Sunday Parade. I love the music every year. A special remembrance for Daryn Roy, a local lad who was killed in Afghanistan this year.

Two excerpts: Dido's Lament and Flowers of the Forest



A change from my usual Sunday videos.

WE WILL REMEMBER THEM

Paul the Psychic octopus has died.

There is nothing more to be said.

Here's a British institution. One of the greatest ventriloquists of his era has died aged 79. Ray Alan was best remembered for his work with Lord Charles a slightly inebriated sounding toff, and here is an example of how good he was where he and Lord Charles operate Little Johnny.


I have been to the cricket but came home just after lunch after a shocking display by the Durham batsmen 121 all out against Kent. Terrible. Only our 18 year old superboy BenStokes and Mitch Claydon got into the 20s. Kent are 150 -5 in reply. Rumours were flying of unrest in the dressing room. The captain had stood down earlier and Phil Mustard took over. Also injuries have continued with Ian Blackwell out now. Then Graham Onions has been ruled out for at least 3 months with a stress fracture of the back and a poorly knee. Paul Collingwood can't come back and play because he is resting a sore shoulder. I tell you I am a Jonah! The weather wasn't as hot as over the weekend but it was still in the 60s and my arms have had their tan topped up.

England are playing Mexico tonight in the football and I bet Bent still doesn't get a run out even though Capello is resting key players. They have two friendlies before the World Cup starts and he'll be lucky to get 20 minutes, let alone picked for the final 23. There, that should ensure the opposite happens.

Ben Stokes now on crutches; Darren Bent has a tight hamstring and is not in contention. Huh

92 years old. She had such a pure voice I think.

So Gordon Brown has bitten the bullet and stepped down as Labour Party Leader. Looks like the last attempt to have the Party hang on to power now that Nick Clegg is keeping his dance card open. This whole political vacuum is very disturbing. No party was elected with an absolute majority so both main parties are dancing round the Lib-Dem flame when the only have 56 seats. Either way the voters will be dissatisfied and any standing we still had in the world will be reduced again.

I am taking solace in the cricket now that KP is safely home being a daddy. Come on England!

The weather here is disappointing. It looked lovely and sunny in Brighton at the racing this afternoon and it is grey and chilly here. I'm blaming the volcano. This can't just be cloudy skies day after day surely.

That programme was quite interesting. It revolved around a medieval skeleton found in a burial ground in Ipswich. Turned out he was African, probably brought back from the Crusades. He died of a nasty abscess on his spine. The research was fascinating and of course stable isotopes and DNA played a crucial part in the identification of where he was from. This being Dundee University and not the Jeffersonian they had to wait 3 weeks for the results. Also the webcam link was very wobbly and had a delay. Ha! The realities v. television. This week's warns of upsetting scenes because the body is a mummified child from the 19th century. Sounds upsetting indeed.

More people have gone.

First a man who many reviled, but others, such as me, praised for his integrity in the face of adversity and a lifelong belief in Socialism. I speak of Michael Foot MP and former leader of the Labour Party. Aged 96 he is probably most noted as the Party Leader who attended Remembrance Sunday at the Cenotaph wearing a donkey jacket in order to lay his wreath alongside Margaret Thatcher and the Queen. I remember him as a great orator who could apparently silence the House of Commons, a notoriously rowdy place, with his words.

Here is some info about him.

And some pictures



Plymouth in the post-War election where Labour defeated Churchill's Conservative Party.



At Durham Miners Gala in 1963.
I saw him at the last Gala he attended about 6 years ago. He may have been in his dotage by then and had a nurse with him, but he sang every word of The Red Flag that one of the bands played.



A photo taken by Denis Healy, his great political rival whom he defeated for the party leadership in 1980. Sadly, he led the Party to its greatest defeat in 1983 and resigned.

Also a sad loss is the first black football manager in this country, Keith Alexander.



Only 53, Keith watched his team, Macclesfield Town lose to Notts County least night, drove home and collapsed and died.

He was manager of Lincoln City when he suffered a brain aneurysm several years ago. Having taken them to four successive playoff finals, he was unable to continue and lost his job. However he went on to Peterborough and Bury before joining Macclesfield and keeping them up. It is a sad day for them and his family.

As a retired person I get to watch quite a bit of daytime tv and, if you pick and choose, some of it's not too bad. I enjoy property shows and one I like is Escape to the Country. So it was a great shock to get up this morning and learn one of the presenters was found dead in his flat yesterday. I can genuinely say I am stunned.

Alexander McQueen found dead

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Good Lord

I'm watching the horse racing at the moment - such is the busy life of the retired - and they are racing in a blizzard at Lingfield (in the south east of England) immediately followed by bright sunshine and green grass from Punchestown in Ireland. We aren't having anything like either of those extremes here. It is what the Scots call dreech. There are still swathes of dirty snow all over the place but also grass.

I see one or two famous people have died like Erich Segal and one of the McGarrigle sisters. It's sad.