FOR those still content to believe the conclusion that Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone in the assassination of President John F. Kennedy 50 years ago this very day, perhaps you'd like to consider this list of people:
Jack Zangretti, Eddy Benavides, Mary Meyer, Hank Killam, Bill Hunter, Gary Underhill, Jim Koethe, Teresa Norton, Karen Carlin, Marilyn Walle, William Pitzer, David Ferrie, Eladio Del Valle, E. R. Walthers, Rev. Clyde Johnson, William Pawley, George DeMohrenschildt, Carlos Prio Soccaras, Lou Staples, Joseph C. Ayres.
All of the individuals identified above had connections to the vast story of President Kennedy's murder, some with bigger roles than others.
Of those 20 people named, all met their deaths violently: Seventeen of them received fatal gunshot injuries, two died from blows to the neck while one had his throat cut.
This list, incidentally, doesn't include people such as Lee Bowers Jr, William Whaley, Rose Cheramie, James Worrell or Mona B. Saenz, all of whom died in unusual road accidents.
And not forgetting famed American journalist and TV personality Dorothy Kilgallen who was the only reporter to interview Jack Ruby - the man who shot Oswald - when he was in his jail cell in the spring of 1964 and began her own meticulous research into the President's death. Kilgallen, a regular panellist on the celebrated CBS TV game show What's My Line? for 15 years from 1950, was found dead in her New York apartment in November, 1965, not long after she had told friends: "If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to break this case. This story isn't going to die as long as there's a real reporter alive - and there are a lot of them." Kilgallen's death was said to have been caused by a cocktail of pills and alcohol although the exact circumstances were "undetermined".
But hey-ho, never mind. It was Oswald alone, don't forget, and there is nothing else sinister linked with this case whatsoever. Nothing. That's what we've all been told to believe, haven't we?
Friday, 22 November 2013
Tuesday, 19 November 2013
The Real Nightmare On Elm Street
I THINK I must have been in my very early teens or perhaps in my last year in junior school when I happened one day to be thumbing through an encyclopedia detailing famous historical events.
My eyes were drawn to a monochrome photograph, slightly blurred, of a car with a number of people around it. The caption underneath the picture explained what was going on - American President John Fitzgerald Kennedy is assassinated in Dallas, Texas, on November 22, 1963, by Lee Harvey Oswald.
Little did I realise that more than three decades after I first saw this image I would count researching the conspiracy behind the brutal public execution of America's 35th Commander-in-Chief as among my greatest and most important passions.
Let me be frank from the outset. For those of you willing to go along with the official account of what happened that dreadful autumn afternoon, you need to wake up and smell the coffee.
Maybe it's for the easy life; maybe it's because you don't like difficult questions; or maybe it's because where the truth goes on this one it's to a far darker place than you could ever imagine - or really want to go to.
But for those still happy to go along with the official story that a lone, disillusioned man with Marxist sympathies fired three shots from a $13 bolt-action rifle with a defective telescopic sight from a sixth floor window at a moving target from 88 yards through thick foliage causing fatal injuries to one occupant of the limousine and serious wounds to another (with the same almost pristine bullet) while somehow reversing the law of physics by getting the mortally-wounded man to move backwards following a projectile that hit him from behind travelling thousands of feet per second, I've some bad news I want to relate to you - Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy don't exist. But if you buy into the findings of the 1964 Warren Commission, you may as well believe in Father Christmas and the elfish flying creature who leaves a shiny coin under your pillow whenever you lose one of your gnashers.
It was the writer William Manchester who really kick-started my intense interest in the assassination of President John Kennedy. The year was 1988 and I can still remember getting his famous book out of the library at St Katherine's College in Liverpool where I was in the second of my three years reading History and American Studies for a BA Honours Degree.
Manchester's 1967 tome, The Death Of A President, opened my eyes to an incredibly-hypnotic story, and from that moment on - at that point exactly 25 years since Kennedy's murder - my interest was sparked to find out through as much research as I could just what really happened in those fateful few seconds one November lunchtime on an ordinary downtown street in the third-biggest city in the second-largest State in the Union.
I am not what some might call an 'Assassination Buff' - the sort of person who has devoted more hours of their lives than they care to mention on the subject. Far from it. But I do have more than a passing interest and have read many articles and books and witnessed a good number of programmes, films and documentaries - and, as any good journalist should do, I have listened to both sides of the case.
And, really, there are only two arguments: (1) Lee Harvey Oswald did the whole thing alone and it's case closed or (2) Lee Harvey Oswald did not and it's case still open.
Those are your two choices - it really is as simple as that.
There are countless side issues I could write about on this truly incredible story - and I have no doubt I will on a forthcoming blog. But for now, I'll leave you with these two facts to ponder over as the world prepares to mark half a century since President Kennedy's murder:
If Lee Harvey Oswald was the sole assassin as the Warren Commission ruled beyond reasonable doubt - and we should be content in the knowledge that this is indeed true - why on earth in November 2013 - 50 years later - are some 1,171 documents still withheld by the Central Intelligence Agency and marked "national security classified" in relation to the President's death?
And, why is it that the files of the House Select Committee on Assassinations which met in the late 1970s will not be opened for another 16 years?
Somewhat strange, wouldn't you say, given it's "officially" an open and shut case?
My eyes were drawn to a monochrome photograph, slightly blurred, of a car with a number of people around it. The caption underneath the picture explained what was going on - American President John Fitzgerald Kennedy is assassinated in Dallas, Texas, on November 22, 1963, by Lee Harvey Oswald.
Little did I realise that more than three decades after I first saw this image I would count researching the conspiracy behind the brutal public execution of America's 35th Commander-in-Chief as among my greatest and most important passions.
Let me be frank from the outset. For those of you willing to go along with the official account of what happened that dreadful autumn afternoon, you need to wake up and smell the coffee.
Maybe it's for the easy life; maybe it's because you don't like difficult questions; or maybe it's because where the truth goes on this one it's to a far darker place than you could ever imagine - or really want to go to.
But for those still happy to go along with the official story that a lone, disillusioned man with Marxist sympathies fired three shots from a $13 bolt-action rifle with a defective telescopic sight from a sixth floor window at a moving target from 88 yards through thick foliage causing fatal injuries to one occupant of the limousine and serious wounds to another (with the same almost pristine bullet) while somehow reversing the law of physics by getting the mortally-wounded man to move backwards following a projectile that hit him from behind travelling thousands of feet per second, I've some bad news I want to relate to you - Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy don't exist. But if you buy into the findings of the 1964 Warren Commission, you may as well believe in Father Christmas and the elfish flying creature who leaves a shiny coin under your pillow whenever you lose one of your gnashers.
It was the writer William Manchester who really kick-started my intense interest in the assassination of President John Kennedy. The year was 1988 and I can still remember getting his famous book out of the library at St Katherine's College in Liverpool where I was in the second of my three years reading History and American Studies for a BA Honours Degree.
Manchester's 1967 tome, The Death Of A President, opened my eyes to an incredibly-hypnotic story, and from that moment on - at that point exactly 25 years since Kennedy's murder - my interest was sparked to find out through as much research as I could just what really happened in those fateful few seconds one November lunchtime on an ordinary downtown street in the third-biggest city in the second-largest State in the Union.
I am not what some might call an 'Assassination Buff' - the sort of person who has devoted more hours of their lives than they care to mention on the subject. Far from it. But I do have more than a passing interest and have read many articles and books and witnessed a good number of programmes, films and documentaries - and, as any good journalist should do, I have listened to both sides of the case.
And, really, there are only two arguments: (1) Lee Harvey Oswald did the whole thing alone and it's case closed or (2) Lee Harvey Oswald did not and it's case still open.
Those are your two choices - it really is as simple as that.
There are countless side issues I could write about on this truly incredible story - and I have no doubt I will on a forthcoming blog. But for now, I'll leave you with these two facts to ponder over as the world prepares to mark half a century since President Kennedy's murder:
If Lee Harvey Oswald was the sole assassin as the Warren Commission ruled beyond reasonable doubt - and we should be content in the knowledge that this is indeed true - why on earth in November 2013 - 50 years later - are some 1,171 documents still withheld by the Central Intelligence Agency and marked "national security classified" in relation to the President's death?
And, why is it that the files of the House Select Committee on Assassinations which met in the late 1970s will not be opened for another 16 years?
Somewhat strange, wouldn't you say, given it's "officially" an open and shut case?
Thursday, 29 August 2013
Damascus if we do, Damascus if we don't
SYRIA.
That ancient Middle Eastern nation is now well and truly back in the news headlines.
It's on the front pages of every British national newspaper, bar one.
But then, Celebrity Big Brother is rather important too, isn't it, Mr Desmond?
The current state of play is very concerning indeed. As we stand, weapons inspectors from the United Nations are carrying out detailed investigations into the alleged use of chemical devices to kill and maim hundreds of innocent men, women and children in a suburb of the nation's capital city, Damascus.
The inspectors are set to complete their work by Friday and report back to the Secretary-General of the UN, Ban Ki-moon over the weekend.
It is believed that the regime of dictator President Bashar al-Assad is responsible for the actions that caused all these deaths by use of weapons outlawed since a treaty was signed by the vast majority of the world's nations as long ago as the 1920s.
Syria, incidentally, is one of the handful of countries not to have signed the treaty alongside such other luminaries as Angola, Egypt, North Korea and South Sudan.
It is believed that since civil war broke out in Syria in 2011, at least 100,000 people have already perished.
But it's only now that the world has decided to sit up and take notice - and it's all due to the usage of chemical weapons.
From my limited knowledge of the situation and taking on board my education which led to a degree in history, I find it completely inconceivable that military action taken by outside forces could lead to anything other than regime change in Syria.
For goodness sake, this isn't a particularly tricky level in Call Of Duty where you can always press the reset button if things go awry.
You are dealing with the lives of millions of people, not just in Syria but in the wider Middle East and arguably the whole world.
I just cannot agree with the idea that firing a few dozen Tomahawk cruise missiles at identified military targets will immediately solve the crisis in Syria.
If anything, I believe Assad's regime will fight back in any way he sees fit. And with his allies Russia and Iran close by, that's an extremely fearful thought indeed.
But then, we have the flip side of this coin. Does the world sit by and do nothing and allow this dictator to continue gassing his own people?
It seems to me, that the only long term solution for Syria is almost certainly going to be regime change. For once a leader has sanctioned the use of chemical weapons against his own people, how on earth can he be welcomed to the table of diplomacy at the United Nations? After all, surely Assad is a war criminal and by definition would need to stand before an international court of law.
I just hope there is complete support at the United Nations for whatever action is taken. But with China and Russia hinting they may well vote against a military response led by the United States, the United Kingdom and France, I fear that may well not be forthcoming.
The next few days are going to be very important indeed for the lives of millions of people in the Middle East.
It certainly puts other things into perspective... although Big Ron's latest faux pas is pretty important too, eh, Mr Desmond?
That ancient Middle Eastern nation is now well and truly back in the news headlines.
It's on the front pages of every British national newspaper, bar one.
But then, Celebrity Big Brother is rather important too, isn't it, Mr Desmond?
The current state of play is very concerning indeed. As we stand, weapons inspectors from the United Nations are carrying out detailed investigations into the alleged use of chemical devices to kill and maim hundreds of innocent men, women and children in a suburb of the nation's capital city, Damascus.
The inspectors are set to complete their work by Friday and report back to the Secretary-General of the UN, Ban Ki-moon over the weekend.
It is believed that the regime of dictator President Bashar al-Assad is responsible for the actions that caused all these deaths by use of weapons outlawed since a treaty was signed by the vast majority of the world's nations as long ago as the 1920s.
Syria, incidentally, is one of the handful of countries not to have signed the treaty alongside such other luminaries as Angola, Egypt, North Korea and South Sudan.
It is believed that since civil war broke out in Syria in 2011, at least 100,000 people have already perished.
But it's only now that the world has decided to sit up and take notice - and it's all due to the usage of chemical weapons.
From my limited knowledge of the situation and taking on board my education which led to a degree in history, I find it completely inconceivable that military action taken by outside forces could lead to anything other than regime change in Syria.
For goodness sake, this isn't a particularly tricky level in Call Of Duty where you can always press the reset button if things go awry.
You are dealing with the lives of millions of people, not just in Syria but in the wider Middle East and arguably the whole world.
I just cannot agree with the idea that firing a few dozen Tomahawk cruise missiles at identified military targets will immediately solve the crisis in Syria.
If anything, I believe Assad's regime will fight back in any way he sees fit. And with his allies Russia and Iran close by, that's an extremely fearful thought indeed.
But then, we have the flip side of this coin. Does the world sit by and do nothing and allow this dictator to continue gassing his own people?
It seems to me, that the only long term solution for Syria is almost certainly going to be regime change. For once a leader has sanctioned the use of chemical weapons against his own people, how on earth can he be welcomed to the table of diplomacy at the United Nations? After all, surely Assad is a war criminal and by definition would need to stand before an international court of law.
I just hope there is complete support at the United Nations for whatever action is taken. But with China and Russia hinting they may well vote against a military response led by the United States, the United Kingdom and France, I fear that may well not be forthcoming.
The next few days are going to be very important indeed for the lives of millions of people in the Middle East.
It certainly puts other things into perspective... although Big Ron's latest faux pas is pretty important too, eh, Mr Desmond?
Monday, 12 August 2013
Guilty Pleasures #2
MANY issues are discussed and dissected on the sports desk at work.
Some, nay, virtually all are not fit for repeating on this blog, largely as I definitely could not afford the legal fees the associated lawsuits would inevitably bring...
But one thing that did get a brief mention today was a movie that those distributing the Academy Awards in the spring of 1965 decided should be given the coveted title of Best Picture.
Alongside this film in the nominations for that category almost half a century ago now was the melodrama set on a liner on its way from Mexico to Nazi Germany in 1933, Ship Of Fools starring amongst others Vivien Leigh and Lee Marvin; the movie version of a play about a comedian, A Thousand Clowns, which earned Martin Balsam the Best Supporting Actor Oscar; Darling, a relationships drama in which Julie Christie received the celebrated golden statuette for Best Actress; and the epic Doctor Zhivago which brought together Omar Sharif and the incredibly-talented Christie in David Lean's critically-acclaimed version of Boris Pasternak's famous romantic tale set in Russia before, during and after the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution.
All, according to those voting in the Academy, were equally worthy of winning the Best Picture Oscar for that year.
Except they didn't.
The movie that won the honour that evening in 1965 remains for me one of the most uplifting pictures I have ever seen.
It's been shown countless times on television and I daresay the majority of you reading this blog will have seen it.
I also know a fair number of you will swiftly dismiss it as simply three hours of sentimental rubbish laced with huge dollops of saccharine from first reel to last.
But for me, the unforgettable mix of nuns and Nazis plus some of the most memorable songs ever written by two of the last century's finest musical collaborators - Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II - makes The Sound Of Music one of my all-time favourite movies.
The cinematography is just outstanding, starting with a magical opening sequence in which the focus is on the truly breathtaking majesty of the Austrian Alps.
I'm sure most of you are all-too aware of the movie so we won't head down the plot-explaining route.
What I do recall as a child was sitting through a film that lasted a lot longer than the usual one-and-a-half to two hours - and not becoming restless.
I was completely taken in by the story - which is loosely based on an incredible true tale - and thoroughly enjoyed what was being played out in front of me.
The performances in the movie are terrific, led, of course, by the Oscar-nominated Julie Andrews as Maria.
Andrews was right up there as one of the leading theatre and cinematic draws of the mid-1960s. Twelve months before she had won the Academy Award as Best Actress playing the title role in Disney's much-loved musical Mary Poppins. And as in that "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" movie, she's on top form throughout.
For all he despised The Sound Of Music - and he did from a number of accounts - Christopher Plummer plays the role of the former German naval officer Captain Georg von Trapp marvellously. The scene towards the end of the picture where he tries to sing Edelweiss before being helped by Maria is one of many highlights. Yes, Plummer's singing voice was dubbed for the film, but it's nevertheless a standout moment for me.
The final ten minutes of the picture where the dark side of the story is re-enacted as the family are being hunted by the Nazis remains absolutely riveting while the conclusion is so uplifting it can go a long way in helping to counter any miserable feelings you may be experiencing in your life.
Oh, and why was The Sound Of Music being discussed on the sports desk? Well, a colleague of mine admitted he had never seen it.
That was some confession.
But definitely not as open as this one...
Some, nay, virtually all are not fit for repeating on this blog, largely as I definitely could not afford the legal fees the associated lawsuits would inevitably bring...
But one thing that did get a brief mention today was a movie that those distributing the Academy Awards in the spring of 1965 decided should be given the coveted title of Best Picture.
Alongside this film in the nominations for that category almost half a century ago now was the melodrama set on a liner on its way from Mexico to Nazi Germany in 1933, Ship Of Fools starring amongst others Vivien Leigh and Lee Marvin; the movie version of a play about a comedian, A Thousand Clowns, which earned Martin Balsam the Best Supporting Actor Oscar; Darling, a relationships drama in which Julie Christie received the celebrated golden statuette for Best Actress; and the epic Doctor Zhivago which brought together Omar Sharif and the incredibly-talented Christie in David Lean's critically-acclaimed version of Boris Pasternak's famous romantic tale set in Russia before, during and after the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution.
All, according to those voting in the Academy, were equally worthy of winning the Best Picture Oscar for that year.
Except they didn't.
The movie that won the honour that evening in 1965 remains for me one of the most uplifting pictures I have ever seen.
It's been shown countless times on television and I daresay the majority of you reading this blog will have seen it.
I also know a fair number of you will swiftly dismiss it as simply three hours of sentimental rubbish laced with huge dollops of saccharine from first reel to last.
But for me, the unforgettable mix of nuns and Nazis plus some of the most memorable songs ever written by two of the last century's finest musical collaborators - Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II - makes The Sound Of Music one of my all-time favourite movies.
The cinematography is just outstanding, starting with a magical opening sequence in which the focus is on the truly breathtaking majesty of the Austrian Alps.
I'm sure most of you are all-too aware of the movie so we won't head down the plot-explaining route.
What I do recall as a child was sitting through a film that lasted a lot longer than the usual one-and-a-half to two hours - and not becoming restless.
I was completely taken in by the story - which is loosely based on an incredible true tale - and thoroughly enjoyed what was being played out in front of me.
The performances in the movie are terrific, led, of course, by the Oscar-nominated Julie Andrews as Maria.
Andrews was right up there as one of the leading theatre and cinematic draws of the mid-1960s. Twelve months before she had won the Academy Award as Best Actress playing the title role in Disney's much-loved musical Mary Poppins. And as in that "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" movie, she's on top form throughout.
For all he despised The Sound Of Music - and he did from a number of accounts - Christopher Plummer plays the role of the former German naval officer Captain Georg von Trapp marvellously. The scene towards the end of the picture where he tries to sing Edelweiss before being helped by Maria is one of many highlights. Yes, Plummer's singing voice was dubbed for the film, but it's nevertheless a standout moment for me.
The final ten minutes of the picture where the dark side of the story is re-enacted as the family are being hunted by the Nazis remains absolutely riveting while the conclusion is so uplifting it can go a long way in helping to counter any miserable feelings you may be experiencing in your life.
Oh, and why was The Sound Of Music being discussed on the sports desk? Well, a colleague of mine admitted he had never seen it.
That was some confession.
But definitely not as open as this one...
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
Our Luis cannon
LUIS SUAREZ has courted controversy wherever he has gone.
The first time I became aware of him was in the 2010 World Cup quarter-final clash between his country, Uruguay, and Ghana.
Funnily enough, I had pulled out Ghana in the office sweep and the African team were doing me proud after first negotiating their tricky group stage before earning a place in the last eight of the tournament with a 2-1 win over the United States.
Then came that quarter-final match against the South Americans.
Biased? Of course I was. Like most "neutrals", I was rooting like mad for Ghana to reach the semi-finals - and not just because a couple of quid was riding on their progress!
Sadly for them - and for me - it wasn't to be. As most football followers who read this blog will recall, Uruguay made it through after a penalty shoot-out.
But not before Suarez had been in the spotlight - and not for the first time in his career - for all the wrong reasons.
He handballed a goal-bound effort that led to a spot-kick that could have won the game for Ghana and was shown an automatic red card.
Fortunately for Suarez and his Uruguay teammates, the penalty was missed. Suarez was picked up by the TV cameras celebrating the miss with a fist-pump as he walked down the tunnel towards the dressing rooms.
That endeared himself forever to the Uruguay nation while doubtless alienating millions of football followers around the world.
Uruguay went on to beat Ghana - ironically via penalties - and the African dream of having a nation in the last four in the World Cup finals was dashed, for another four years at least.
Months later, my club, Liverpool, went out and bought Suarez for somewhere in the region of £23m - and he immediately became a Kop icon.
His debut off the bench against Stoke City resulted in a pivotal goal in front of The Kop and he was off and running.
So much has happened between that moment and where we find ourselves now with the forward it would take too long to recount here.
There have been plenty of ups - the FA Cup leveller at Wembley against Everton in 2012 quickly springs to mind as I was there with Matthew to witness it - but as far as I am concerned, the downs outnumber them by a hefty margin.
And now, today, August 7, 2013, we find ourselves in this dreadful mire with the player.
Already banned for 10 matches for biting an opponent - again - Suarez is, via his agent, seemingly attempting to engineer an exit from the Reds.
He apparently had a "foot injury" which ruled him out tonight's tour match in Norway. A foot injury? C'mon, were all Liverpool fans born yesterday? What a load of utter bollocks.
The fact is, he wants to go. Liverpool publicly claim they don't want to sell him but privately can't wait for a club to come in with a big enough offer for them to say: "Ta very much. Adios Luis. And don't forget to shut the door on your way out."
While this saga has been going on for what seems like forever, I've been wondering all the time what the club's most important man in their entire history would have said.
I reckon it would have been something along the lines of this: "Arsenal, son? Ye say Arsenal? If you want to play for another team in red I'll drive the bloody car for you to London. I don't want you at this magnificent club. And these fans wouldn't want you either."
Yes, leave Anfield for God's sake, Suarez. Frankly, I really couldn't care less where you end up.
All I know is you're dragging our great club through the mud yet again.
And as a Liverpool supporter of more than four decades, I know club legends when I see them - and believe me, you ain't fit to lace their boots.
The first time I became aware of him was in the 2010 World Cup quarter-final clash between his country, Uruguay, and Ghana.
Funnily enough, I had pulled out Ghana in the office sweep and the African team were doing me proud after first negotiating their tricky group stage before earning a place in the last eight of the tournament with a 2-1 win over the United States.
Then came that quarter-final match against the South Americans.
Biased? Of course I was. Like most "neutrals", I was rooting like mad for Ghana to reach the semi-finals - and not just because a couple of quid was riding on their progress!
Sadly for them - and for me - it wasn't to be. As most football followers who read this blog will recall, Uruguay made it through after a penalty shoot-out.
But not before Suarez had been in the spotlight - and not for the first time in his career - for all the wrong reasons.
He handballed a goal-bound effort that led to a spot-kick that could have won the game for Ghana and was shown an automatic red card.
Fortunately for Suarez and his Uruguay teammates, the penalty was missed. Suarez was picked up by the TV cameras celebrating the miss with a fist-pump as he walked down the tunnel towards the dressing rooms.
That endeared himself forever to the Uruguay nation while doubtless alienating millions of football followers around the world.
Uruguay went on to beat Ghana - ironically via penalties - and the African dream of having a nation in the last four in the World Cup finals was dashed, for another four years at least.
Months later, my club, Liverpool, went out and bought Suarez for somewhere in the region of £23m - and he immediately became a Kop icon.
His debut off the bench against Stoke City resulted in a pivotal goal in front of The Kop and he was off and running.
So much has happened between that moment and where we find ourselves now with the forward it would take too long to recount here.
There have been plenty of ups - the FA Cup leveller at Wembley against Everton in 2012 quickly springs to mind as I was there with Matthew to witness it - but as far as I am concerned, the downs outnumber them by a hefty margin.
And now, today, August 7, 2013, we find ourselves in this dreadful mire with the player.
Already banned for 10 matches for biting an opponent - again - Suarez is, via his agent, seemingly attempting to engineer an exit from the Reds.
He apparently had a "foot injury" which ruled him out tonight's tour match in Norway. A foot injury? C'mon, were all Liverpool fans born yesterday? What a load of utter bollocks.
The fact is, he wants to go. Liverpool publicly claim they don't want to sell him but privately can't wait for a club to come in with a big enough offer for them to say: "Ta very much. Adios Luis. And don't forget to shut the door on your way out."
While this saga has been going on for what seems like forever, I've been wondering all the time what the club's most important man in their entire history would have said.
I reckon it would have been something along the lines of this: "Arsenal, son? Ye say Arsenal? If you want to play for another team in red I'll drive the bloody car for you to London. I don't want you at this magnificent club. And these fans wouldn't want you either."
Yes, leave Anfield for God's sake, Suarez. Frankly, I really couldn't care less where you end up.
All I know is you're dragging our great club through the mud yet again.
And as a Liverpool supporter of more than four decades, I know club legends when I see them - and believe me, you ain't fit to lace their boots.
Wednesday, 3 July 2013
Trying to make sense of it all
LET me tell you about a dreadful sod of an infection that I guess most of you reading this will have never heard of before.
Its name is cytomegalovirus - abbreviated to CMV - and, as far as I am aware, it remains without a cure.
Back in the mid-autumn of 2004, I became a Dad for a second time. Our second son, Joseph Anthony Snowdon, was born on October 13, a brother for Matthew, three years his senior.
Joseph weighed in at a very healthy 8lbs 3.5oz and I can vividly remember cutting his umbilical cord as I had with Matthew back in May, 2001.
All appeared well at first, and as our new-born son snuggled close to Louise in the recovery unit at the hospital, I thought everything was just perfect in our little world.
How wrong I was.
Within hours of Joseph's birth, we began to notice a rather disconcerting rash that was appearing on his little body.
And within a short amount of time we learnt, to our great upset, that he had been born with congenital cytomegalovirus.
What the hell was this condition and what did it mean for Joseph were our two primary questions. The answers we received were not the ones any parent wants to hear.
It's a virus that can be contracted by an expectant mother via a simple thing such as a cold and passed on to her unborn child without her knowing what has happened.
And the seed it sows produces a harvest of devastation for the child including problems with movement, below average head growth and sight impairment.
Joseph, to some degree or other, has these symptoms. He attended portage sessions for some time and throughout 2005 and 2006 we took him every Friday morning to Crosby High School for hour-long hydrotherapy sessions. His head size was measured many times at hospital and clinics and was found to be smaller than normal. And he was diagnosed as being long-sighted so accordingly he was prescribed to wear glasses.
Quite a lot, I think you'll agree, for someone still in their first years of life.
And then we come to the knockout blow.
What CMV also has the nasty ability to do is cause brain defects. In about 5% of cases it causes what is known as 'cerebral calcification'. This is when calcium, which usually helps in the development of healthy teeth and bones, for whatever reason, finds its way into the brain - and stays there.
Its presence was detected in Joseph's brain when he went for scans at an early age and it confirmed our worst fears about him - he had only partial hearing as the CMV virus had attacked his two cochlears. And on top of that, he was going to be delayed developmentally.
It was a crushing blow for all of us, not least Joseph who was completely oblivious to our upset. He was born into a world with little or no sound so he knew nothing else. And the way he moved was just his way.
Over the years since his birth we have attended countless medical appointments, hospital visits, information classes and clinics.
In the summer of 2008 when Joseph was approaching his fourth birthday we made the biggest decision of all. He underwent a near three-hour-long operation in Manchester to fit a cochlear implant on his weakest ear, his left one. The hearing aid he wore there was not giving him much in the way of sound support and the advice we were given, and took, was that a hi-tech cochlear implant would give him the best chance of improving his speech and language skills in his crucial early years' development.
It was a decision neither of us took lightly, but we agreed it was the right one to take for Joseph given all his other problems.
Thankfully, the operation was a complete success and a few weeks later, the device was switched on.
Considering the implant was hooked up to a backpack to be worn underneath his clothing on a set of reins, remarkably Joseph took to wearing it pretty well from the start. In tandem with his hearing aid on his right ear, Joseph began to become accustomed to the new sounds it produced for him.
And thanks to a wonderful team of speech and language therapists who worked tirelessly with him, Joseph increased his vocabulary week after week.
Academically he was allowed to follow Matthew into his mainstream school and to date is approaching the last few weeks of life in Year 3.
It hasn't all been plain sailing, though. Joseph's poor social skills and delayed development in a range of areas have had a profound impact on his life and those around him. He finds it incredibly difficult, nay impossible, to express what he is feeling to us and his peers. And, sadly, this often manifests itself in violent behaviour that, at the root cause, he is not truly responsible for. It's that bastard of a virus I mentioned right at the outset.
Things are tough right now, very tough.
Thank goodness that we - and Joseph - are receiving support from a whole range of sources from the medical world to his schooling and family therapists. Their work with him and us has been extraordinary although their tasks are still a very, very long way from being completed.
Joseph could be classed by some people as a problem child.
He isn't.
He is a child who has problems.
I wish to God he had never been born with them, but not for one minute have I ever wished he had never been born.
Like his elder brother, I love them to pieces and I'm just so sorry for him he has had to contend with this condition throughout his near nine years on this earth.
I'm still trying to make sense of it all - but to be truthful, I can't.
All I know is we'll love and care for him as long as we can - and that's the only thing that really matters to us.
Its name is cytomegalovirus - abbreviated to CMV - and, as far as I am aware, it remains without a cure.
Back in the mid-autumn of 2004, I became a Dad for a second time. Our second son, Joseph Anthony Snowdon, was born on October 13, a brother for Matthew, three years his senior.
Joseph weighed in at a very healthy 8lbs 3.5oz and I can vividly remember cutting his umbilical cord as I had with Matthew back in May, 2001.
All appeared well at first, and as our new-born son snuggled close to Louise in the recovery unit at the hospital, I thought everything was just perfect in our little world.
How wrong I was.
Within hours of Joseph's birth, we began to notice a rather disconcerting rash that was appearing on his little body.
And within a short amount of time we learnt, to our great upset, that he had been born with congenital cytomegalovirus.
What the hell was this condition and what did it mean for Joseph were our two primary questions. The answers we received were not the ones any parent wants to hear.
It's a virus that can be contracted by an expectant mother via a simple thing such as a cold and passed on to her unborn child without her knowing what has happened.
And the seed it sows produces a harvest of devastation for the child including problems with movement, below average head growth and sight impairment.
Joseph, to some degree or other, has these symptoms. He attended portage sessions for some time and throughout 2005 and 2006 we took him every Friday morning to Crosby High School for hour-long hydrotherapy sessions. His head size was measured many times at hospital and clinics and was found to be smaller than normal. And he was diagnosed as being long-sighted so accordingly he was prescribed to wear glasses.
Quite a lot, I think you'll agree, for someone still in their first years of life.
And then we come to the knockout blow.
What CMV also has the nasty ability to do is cause brain defects. In about 5% of cases it causes what is known as 'cerebral calcification'. This is when calcium, which usually helps in the development of healthy teeth and bones, for whatever reason, finds its way into the brain - and stays there.
Its presence was detected in Joseph's brain when he went for scans at an early age and it confirmed our worst fears about him - he had only partial hearing as the CMV virus had attacked his two cochlears. And on top of that, he was going to be delayed developmentally.
It was a crushing blow for all of us, not least Joseph who was completely oblivious to our upset. He was born into a world with little or no sound so he knew nothing else. And the way he moved was just his way.
Over the years since his birth we have attended countless medical appointments, hospital visits, information classes and clinics.
In the summer of 2008 when Joseph was approaching his fourth birthday we made the biggest decision of all. He underwent a near three-hour-long operation in Manchester to fit a cochlear implant on his weakest ear, his left one. The hearing aid he wore there was not giving him much in the way of sound support and the advice we were given, and took, was that a hi-tech cochlear implant would give him the best chance of improving his speech and language skills in his crucial early years' development.
It was a decision neither of us took lightly, but we agreed it was the right one to take for Joseph given all his other problems.
Thankfully, the operation was a complete success and a few weeks later, the device was switched on.
Considering the implant was hooked up to a backpack to be worn underneath his clothing on a set of reins, remarkably Joseph took to wearing it pretty well from the start. In tandem with his hearing aid on his right ear, Joseph began to become accustomed to the new sounds it produced for him.
And thanks to a wonderful team of speech and language therapists who worked tirelessly with him, Joseph increased his vocabulary week after week.
Academically he was allowed to follow Matthew into his mainstream school and to date is approaching the last few weeks of life in Year 3.
It hasn't all been plain sailing, though. Joseph's poor social skills and delayed development in a range of areas have had a profound impact on his life and those around him. He finds it incredibly difficult, nay impossible, to express what he is feeling to us and his peers. And, sadly, this often manifests itself in violent behaviour that, at the root cause, he is not truly responsible for. It's that bastard of a virus I mentioned right at the outset.
Things are tough right now, very tough.
Thank goodness that we - and Joseph - are receiving support from a whole range of sources from the medical world to his schooling and family therapists. Their work with him and us has been extraordinary although their tasks are still a very, very long way from being completed.
Joseph could be classed by some people as a problem child.
He isn't.
He is a child who has problems.
I wish to God he had never been born with them, but not for one minute have I ever wished he had never been born.
Like his elder brother, I love them to pieces and I'm just so sorry for him he has had to contend with this condition throughout his near nine years on this earth.
I'm still trying to make sense of it all - but to be truthful, I can't.
All I know is we'll love and care for him as long as we can - and that's the only thing that really matters to us.
Thursday, 30 May 2013
This particular 'union' doesn't get my vote!
RIGHT, just so as you're in no doubt - I cannot stand rugby union.
You'll notice it's the 'union' code of the sport that's the key thing here.
The league version is pretty much faultless, one of the best sports to watch on TV, and - even though I never got a chance to at school - I reckon it must be an absolutely fantastic game to play.
League is so straightforward - six goes to attempt to score a try; if not you turn over possession. Not unlike another of my favourite sports, American Football, where you get four goes to attempt to move the ball 10 yards further into your opponents' territory and eventually kick a field goal or score a touchdown. Failure to move the ball without scoring means possession is turned over.
Now we come to rugby union... does anyone have a clue WTF is going on apart from the fact they're all trying to beat the living daylights out of each other before the referee awards a penalty which mystifies both sets of players, the fans in the stadium and those watching on TV - as well as the expert pundits?
Well, never mind, it's all part of the game which these days is to ensure your side earns enough penalties to overcome the opposition by booting the ball between the sticks without any defender having the chance to block the kick (unlike a field goal in American Football).
I am certain that after practice, anyone with a decent kicking leg and an eye for distance could boot a ball between two uprights without anyone bearing down on them in an attempt to stop them.
Sadly, and to its terrible detriment, the union code of the game has become almost totally reliant on the kicking game and penalties.
Great tries are so rare from open play, they still show Gareth Edwards's truly brilliant effort for the Barbarians against the All Blacks as the perfect example of how to score a try - and that was 40 years ago.
Which, I think, was the last time anyone scored a try in rugby union...
And now we come to the Lions Tour... Anyone who has Sky Sports or listens to TALKSport will know that there can't be any major football events happening this summer as this bloody visit to Australia has been plugged for the best part of six months.
I've ranted on this before on Facebook and now Twitter, and I'm ranting again here in my blog - THE AUSSIES DO NOT GIVE A DAMN ABOUT RUGBY UNION!!!
It's not even the fourth most popular sport in a country that has a population barely more than the sum total of the UK's five biggest cities. Aussie Rules, Rugby LEAGUE, Soccer and Cricket always lead the way Down Under.
So if the best players from England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland - as the Lions purport to be - cannot defeat Australia whose real rugby allegiance is with the League version, then it's a pretty poor show indeed.
A lot, nay all of this hullabaloo over the Lions' trip is class-orientated. It's a public school sport, don't forget - 'rugger' - where if you were to suggest playing the league version you'd be laughed out of the dorm.
It's always been the same with union. I can distinctly remember as a child listening to Sports Report on the good ol' BBC Radio 2 on a Saturday in the late 1970s and early 1980s awaiting to hear the report of Liverpool's latest victims on their way to another championship only being told that the football reports would come later as there had been an important match at Murrayfield, the Arms Park or Twickers.
It was the fact rugby union came first in the pecking order - even above the nation's number one sport. And it's still the case today. Rugby union reports dominate the airwaves around 6 Nations time even though a huge majority of the UK could not give a damn about it. But, we're force-fed the news of an exciting 6-3 game in which no tries were scored but three penalties landed in a contest for the purists - in other words, a load of rubbish that anyone watching with minor interest would have switched over to watch the test card.
Yes, bring back the test card!!!
So, just to round off my rant. No, I really couldn't care less if the Lions win, lose or draw in Australia. I won't be able to avoid it, working as I do on the sportsdesk.
I'm just looking forward to when the first little indiscretion happens when some player or other is caught on CCTV in a shop doorway snogging someone other than his wife or a half-cut star is punished for attempting to leap from a ferry to the dockside only to miss his target or someone, now, stay with me here, actually scores a try. The first two are dead certs, the other, well, what do you think?
You'll notice it's the 'union' code of the sport that's the key thing here.
The league version is pretty much faultless, one of the best sports to watch on TV, and - even though I never got a chance to at school - I reckon it must be an absolutely fantastic game to play.
League is so straightforward - six goes to attempt to score a try; if not you turn over possession. Not unlike another of my favourite sports, American Football, where you get four goes to attempt to move the ball 10 yards further into your opponents' territory and eventually kick a field goal or score a touchdown. Failure to move the ball without scoring means possession is turned over.
Now we come to rugby union... does anyone have a clue WTF is going on apart from the fact they're all trying to beat the living daylights out of each other before the referee awards a penalty which mystifies both sets of players, the fans in the stadium and those watching on TV - as well as the expert pundits?
Well, never mind, it's all part of the game which these days is to ensure your side earns enough penalties to overcome the opposition by booting the ball between the sticks without any defender having the chance to block the kick (unlike a field goal in American Football).
I am certain that after practice, anyone with a decent kicking leg and an eye for distance could boot a ball between two uprights without anyone bearing down on them in an attempt to stop them.
Sadly, and to its terrible detriment, the union code of the game has become almost totally reliant on the kicking game and penalties.
Great tries are so rare from open play, they still show Gareth Edwards's truly brilliant effort for the Barbarians against the All Blacks as the perfect example of how to score a try - and that was 40 years ago.
Which, I think, was the last time anyone scored a try in rugby union...
And now we come to the Lions Tour... Anyone who has Sky Sports or listens to TALKSport will know that there can't be any major football events happening this summer as this bloody visit to Australia has been plugged for the best part of six months.
I've ranted on this before on Facebook and now Twitter, and I'm ranting again here in my blog - THE AUSSIES DO NOT GIVE A DAMN ABOUT RUGBY UNION!!!
It's not even the fourth most popular sport in a country that has a population barely more than the sum total of the UK's five biggest cities. Aussie Rules, Rugby LEAGUE, Soccer and Cricket always lead the way Down Under.
So if the best players from England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland - as the Lions purport to be - cannot defeat Australia whose real rugby allegiance is with the League version, then it's a pretty poor show indeed.
A lot, nay all of this hullabaloo over the Lions' trip is class-orientated. It's a public school sport, don't forget - 'rugger' - where if you were to suggest playing the league version you'd be laughed out of the dorm.
It's always been the same with union. I can distinctly remember as a child listening to Sports Report on the good ol' BBC Radio 2 on a Saturday in the late 1970s and early 1980s awaiting to hear the report of Liverpool's latest victims on their way to another championship only being told that the football reports would come later as there had been an important match at Murrayfield, the Arms Park or Twickers.
It was the fact rugby union came first in the pecking order - even above the nation's number one sport. And it's still the case today. Rugby union reports dominate the airwaves around 6 Nations time even though a huge majority of the UK could not give a damn about it. But, we're force-fed the news of an exciting 6-3 game in which no tries were scored but three penalties landed in a contest for the purists - in other words, a load of rubbish that anyone watching with minor interest would have switched over to watch the test card.
Yes, bring back the test card!!!
So, just to round off my rant. No, I really couldn't care less if the Lions win, lose or draw in Australia. I won't be able to avoid it, working as I do on the sportsdesk.
I'm just looking forward to when the first little indiscretion happens when some player or other is caught on CCTV in a shop doorway snogging someone other than his wife or a half-cut star is punished for attempting to leap from a ferry to the dockside only to miss his target or someone, now, stay with me here, actually scores a try. The first two are dead certs, the other, well, what do you think?
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