(Martin O’Neill enters the living room, he flops down in his favourite armchair, takes off his glasses, rubs his forehead vigoursly, puts glasses back on and pushes them up the bridge of his nose. His wife enters the room with a concerned look on her face)

MRS O’NEILL ‘Love, we really need to talk about the shopping situation.’

O’NEILL ‘As i’ve said on numerous occasions, I am addressing the situation.’

MRS O’NEILL ‘But love, it’s now been six weeks since we ordered our last lot of shopping from Sainsbury’s’

O’NEILL ‘It’s an ongoing situation, I am looking closely at various food options, Naturally you wouldn’t just expect me to name the brand and type of biscuits and crisps i’m targeting, it’ll take just a wee while longer.’

MRS O’NEILL ‘We are running out of food rapidly, and I have to be honest love, a lot of the things you ordered last time were a waste of money.’

O’NEILL ‘I refute that, what was a waste of money?’

MRS O’NEILL ‘Well for example, you insisted on buying that African Togo Jerk sauce, you tried one spoonful of it and then shoved the jar to the back of the cupboard. Then there were the 6 bottles of English wine you bought, who buys English wine?’

O’NEILL ‘Those English wines are terrific, they just need to mature under the stairs for a couple of years.’

MRS O’NEILL ‘ The Ginger wine you got seemed nice, but even that turned out to be corked.’

O’NEILL ‘I thought you enjoyed the Spanish Rioja I got?’

MRS O’NEILL ‘I’ll never know how nice that would have tasted, £15 a bottle and you poured most if it into a spaghetti bolagnese, it wasn’t bought for that.’

O’NEILL ‘Not everything was bad’

MRS O’NEILL ‘No, I suppose the Lee Evans DVD was quite good, although we had already seen it when we borrowed it some time ago, we shouldn’t have paid £20 for it.’

O’NEILL ‘There is nothing to be concerned about, i’m growing some promising young veg in the garden, we can always make use of that.’

MRS O’NEILL ‘We can’t live on saplings love, we need food in the cupboard by Monday at the latest.’

O’NEILL ‘When is the deadline for getting them to deliver for Monday?’

MRS O’NEILL ‘Saturday at 6pm.’

O’NEILL ‘Well i’m certainly not worrying at this moment in time, there are plenty of other options that might come to fruition through Tesco or Asda’s websites, i’m giving it great consideration.’

(Mrs O’Neill exhales a heavy sigh, exits the living room feeling dejected, O’Neill stretches back in his armchair, he’s feeling sleepy and totally relaxed, just down the hallway the antique Grandfather clicks it’s ever turning rhythm, all is well in his world as the arms of Morpheus envelope him) ]]> http://www.heroesandvillains.net/archives/83/feed 0 http://www.heroesandvillains.net/archives/66 http://www.heroesandvillains.net/archives/66#comments Tue, 17 Jun 2008 19:37:50 +0000 Mac http://www.heroesandvillains.info/wp/?p=63 The Blessed Martin was scheduled to take part in Euro2008 web chat today on the offical Euro2008 website. Our Martin turned up 20 minutes late and looked like he was doing his own, slow, typing. Below is a transcript,

15:01 – David Farrelly (Moderator)
Martin O’Neill will be in the chat room soon. Please keep those questions rolling in…

15:22 – Martin O’Neill
Hi there, sorry to keep you waiting. I am delighted to be here in the chat room in between my time with the BBC, and to take some time to answer your questions.

15:22 – chopperward
Hi Martin. Like your managament style. Who has impressed you the most and who realistically could you see coming to Villa to fit your team? I know jop was mentioned on beeb and also gomez. I reckon you would take gomez for sure! good luck

15:26 – Martin O’Neill
As we stand the Dutch have been very impressive, I don’t think it is any surprise that Portugal have come through from Group A. They have the best player in the world in Ronaldo. It is interesting to see Italy and France trying to qualify as only runners-up considering they contested the World Cup final. As for players coming, we were having some fun in the studio and we mentioned them in a joking way, as they weren’t playing so well. So I don’t think we were being serious.

15:26 – danjodanjo
Hi Martin,
I like your management style. Who will be the player of the tournament?

15:29 – Martin O’Neill
I think that there is little question that even if his tournament ends against Germany that Ronaldo is the best player in the world and he doesnt necessarily need this tournament to prove it. David Villa of Spain is a player I have admired for quite some time and it is no surprise that he is coveted by the very best clubs in Europe at the moment. Like Zagorakis last time, there might be a surprise, but that will probably depend on how far his country goes in the tournament.

15:29 – seb_gva
Do you watch all the games and have you spotted any new tactical trends?

15:33 – Martin O’Neill
I have watched all the games, except one, which I have to watch over again. In terms of tactical trends, I haven’t seen anything that I would call new, however I wasn’t expecting to either. France play two holding midfielders, but this is nothing new. When I was manager of Celtic, we came across this on many occasions in Europe. The same basic principles probably apply most often and I am just pleased that the art of dribbling and going past players, hasn’t died.

15:33 – kkrAllstar
Hi Martin, big Villa fan here, keep up the fantastic work!

Have you set any targets for the team next year and what would you consider our realistic ambitions to be?

15:37 – Martin O’Neill
First thing to do is build up the squad, as we were operating with the smallest squad in the league and we were relatively lucky with injuries. We may have had problems if the injury list had been bigger. Sixth last season was very satisfactory and in normal season would have got us into UEFA Cup. Our immediate plan is to get into that through the Intertoto Cup. But next season we will attempt not to stand still. The eventual aim hopefully sooner rather than later is to compete with the top four (easier said than done).

15:37 – adiman
Can you see Northern Ireland reaching a final tournament in the near future?

15:41 – Martin O’Neill
It is getting very difficult but not impossible for small nations to get into major tournament finals. Northern Ireland in the last few seasons have done exceptionally well, winning some major battles, but in football terms, losing the war. For a country like Northern Ireland it is a bit cyclical in the sense that that team had a great side in 1958 and had to wait until 1982 and 1986 to have another top quality group of players. Perhaps that might happen in the not too distant future, but at least there is great optimism because of what they have done recently. I hope it happens!!!

15:41 – kevashby
Martin, if you would have been appointed England coach do you think the team would be here now? For the record, I do.

15:44 – Martin O’Neill
That is extremely kind thing to say…you must be related!!!!

15:44 – KoolBavarianKing
@Martin
Same old question everybody asks:
Who do you think will reach the final and who amongst them will raise the trophy?

15:47 – Martin O’Neill
At the start of the tournament, Gary Lineker posed the question to myself, Alan Hansen and Alan Shearer. I possibly through sentimentality went for France. It looks as if on the eve of the game with Italy I need my head examined. However, I’ve seen it too often in the past that countries have the ability to come good in the course of the competition..stranger things have happened that the winners of ITA v FRA, should Romania not beat Holland could end up in the final. So, I’ll stick with my original choice and see the doctor tomorrow morning

16:02 – Martin O’Neill
Sorry guys, but I have to go…..I appreciate taking the time to chat with me when I am sure you have many other interesting things to be doing. I hope you are enjoying the tournament, it’s getting to the big deciding time now!!!!!

16:04 – David Farrelly (Moderator)
We’d like to thank Martin O’Neill for taking the time to answer your questions. Thanks to all who contributed. Back to the action. Have you taken the Fan Challenge?

As Gerry said, on the discussion forum, A couple of moments of interest interspersed with long empty pauses culminating in a disappointing and fruitless ending. A typical Martin O’Neill summer activity according to some.

International football is what football used to be like.

The winners will be from a country who have an astute Manager, work well together as a team, and play to there collective strenghts.

Whereas the Prem will be decided on who has spent the most money, regardless of the various strenghs and weaknesses of the Managers, we all know who’s finishing in the top 4 next year.

Its down to Money.

If Chelsea or Man Utd fail one year they go out and spend £50M.

You can’t do that in the international game, you have to work with what you’ve got. Take Greece, winners of the Euro’s last time out, that’s the equivalent of Middlesboro winning the Premiership, no matter how good the manager it isn’t going to happen, because it’s a game of big bucks now.

But it can still happen on the International stage. Who’s going to win this year? It’s not clear cut, and its down to the managers and players to compete on a much more even playing field.

I’m enjoying Euro 2008, even though England aren’t there, its makes a pleasant change from the totally predictable glory hunting moneybags premiership.

Discuss this here:

http://www.heroesandvillains.info/discuss/viewtopic.php?t=25916&start=0

Tradition has it that football supporters are introduced to their fate by their fathers. Coming from a totally non-sporting family, my initiation onto the Holte was left to the persuasive wiles of a nine-year-old classmate. How he convinced his dad to take another unruly lad to see the Villa I’ll never know. But it is Graham Attwood I have to thank for the beginnings of an obsession.

It was on a murky but magical Saturday in winter that I took my place on ‘ the Holte. Left of goal, face peering through the low railings which passed as crowd control in those days, I strained to make sense of a fourth round FA cup tie viewed from boot level.

For me it was a delight to view five Villa players, but the real wonder was simply to see all those thousands of people in the same place at the same time. We spent a fair part of the second-half leaping on each other’s shoulders in a precarious effort to see the very back of the steep bank of faces behind us. I learned a lot that afternoon – the stoical acceptance of defeat, a few new words, and the fact that given the right angle, you could frame the whole Witton End in Johnny MacLeod’s bandy legs.

Two seasons on from my Holte End debut and I had graduated up the terracing. The front was for wimps and my group of eleven year old toughs congregated behind the white tunnel wall on the Trinity Road side of the Holte. The fact that we rarely won hardly mattered. Some Saturdays were special, and this was one of them.

Much of the second half was spent willing on the team as even the outpost we occupied was engulfed in the collective roaring of thousands of Holtenders. Between us we turned a two goal half-time deficit into a glorious single goal victory.

I came away nursing a sore throat, a drained nervous system and a stupid grin. But it didn’t matter. I’d done my bit, I was part of the Holte. I was absolutely hooked.

By now die Holte was mine. Actually, I grudgingly shared it with two friends. We re-affirmed our ownership on alternate Saturdays by arriving at one o’clock and queuing to get in (this for games attracting less than half the ground’s capacity). I could not understand why everyone didn’t do this, little knowing of the more adult pleasures of another Holte a hundred yards down Trinity Road.

Once through the turnstiles The Holte became our playground with the labyrinth of tunnels

under it’s steep slopes serving as secret passages in a host of war games.

In our mind the Holte was the best there could be. We simply ignored the crumbling terracing, sprouting weeds and ancient drainage system which spilled waste water from the pitch onto the feet of supporters. Like the team we followed, the Holte was falling apart.

Another excursion to the front (due to the presence of television cameras) and a rendezvous with fame. At the age of eleven I was the person responsible for a crucial Villa equaliser. In reality, for the first time ever, I knocked back the matchball to Bruce Rioch who, in his eagerness to get on with the corner, sprayed us all with that orange shale mud which still surrounds the pitch. A quick corner and George Curtis bundled home the ball. I’m told by those allowed to stay up to watch the match that my point saving heroics were only visible as a musty grey smudge through the goalnet. But who cared, the point I had won would herald the start of a relegation-avoiding revival to lead to next season’s championship. For good measure I vowed never to wash the Rioch mud from my face and clothes.

Two seasons on, we had been relegated and I had washed again (football supporters are fickle like that). For me this game captures what the early seventies Holte was all about more than any other. By now the clubs’ support, focused on the Holte, was gaining recognition. The club and it’s support were one and the same. This was a game we would win simply because we wanted it that way. The match is now history; MacDougall’s headed goal setting off a passion, volume and intensity of support rarely equalled. Hugging strangers, people climbing floodlights, etc. But my mind’s eye focuses on a lanky youth scrambling from the Holte End masses to join the on-pitch celebrations. Crombie clad, booted and sporting an unfortunate seventies haircut, his absolute joy is probably more representative of what it was to be a Holte Ender then than any amount of thirtysomething reminiscences. Perhaps more significantly there were no dire threats of fines or officious notification of recordings taking place. He was simply shepherded back onto the terrace.

We knew that the first division was our destiny, it was simply a question of waiting. Supporting the team from the Holte had become a ritual around which adolescent life was built. We were time-served members of the Holte and delighted at the growing numbers sharing the experience.

Matchday still meant early arrival but more to secure our spot three quarters up the terrace than anything else. War games had given way to a collection of carefully honed superstitions from the pre-match cheering of Terry Weir to his goal line pitch to the collective willing of the Trinity Road pigeons onto the field (if they landed in the centre circle a Villa win was assured) every fate was called to the Villa cause.

Relationships between club and supporters were healthy. A Wembley win and exciting league form had helped cement a mutually beneficial relationship. Within it all the Holte was a focus for the sometimes exaggerated emotions which supporters nurture, reflecting a new pride in the club’s resurgence and it’s young squad.

Our second division Holte End days were to end before a buoyant full house in brilliant sunshine and with no pressure whatsoever. The Holte was a solid bank of support in celebratory mood, the final whistle heralding the on-pitch party which had threatened all afternoon as the Holte poured forward putting the wilderness years firmly into the past.

As the celebrations ended I walked back towards the Holte. Pausing on the eighteen yard line I looked upwards into the scene of so many triumphs and disappointments. From pitch level, in brilliant sunshine and devoid of ifs masses, it looked smaller than I imagined it should. I did not realise it at the time but that moment marked the end of an era for us also. We were sixteen and about to leave school. From now on our Holte End days would be set against the pressures of an adult world.

Back in its rightful place and with more vocal opposition the Holte simply got better and better over the following seasons. Always original, it developed a repertoire of songs and behaviour that was pure spectacle. A few balloons brought to one early season game became a blizzard of colour that welcomed the team onto the pitch for the rest of the season. And the fervour was not confined to the young. Many was the middle-aged man seen shamelessly clutching handfuls of balloons at 2.50 on Saturday afternoon.

More athletic and absolutely unique was the ‘V’ for Villa routine where volunteers would be held upside down over the heads of the crowd, legs in a ‘V’ shape. This occurred at most games but on one glorious occasion some spirit of the Holte orchestrated scores of people to attempt it simultaneously. Legs in a ‘V’, scarves tied between ankles swaying throughout a rendering of ‘Walk On’. Goodness knows what a psychologist would make of it but at the time it was tremendous.

Feelings between Holte and club still existed but with a little less trust than when we had been fighting our way back together. This game demonstrated the club’s view of the Holte. Without warning a fence was erected down the centre of the terrace. Certain Holte-enders reacted and more attention was focused on rocking the fence from it’s foundations than backing the team. The fence went but the sour taste remained.

The pain and glory of supporting Villa is well known. Villa teams possess an infuse capacity for self-destruction which explains the fatalistic attitude displayed by supporters. Of course this means that when things do turn out correctly the delight is so much more pronounced. This was never demonstrated better than in two games I days apart during our championship season.

Billed as the championship decider, the queues stretching an hour before kick-off reflected the fact. So it was with smug season-ticket holders smile that I cut across the line to battle my way up the terrace. The Holte was absolutely packed and radiated a sharp-edged tension relieved slightly at kick-off, but turned to grim stoicism when McNaught bungled a backpass to allow Ipswich to score. Despite desperate backing and Herculean efforts from the team we lost the game. My despondency hurt almost physically. Seventy-one years and we had blown it. For once I just wanted to get away from the Holte.

A series of good results and the championship was back on again. Although we didn’t know it, the points which were to win the league were gained on this day. A goal by ex-Holtender Gary Shaw settled the nerves and then the rumours started – Ipswich had won/lost/conceded the title. Whatever, part way into the second half the anxiety was lost in a wave of pure noise. It was carnival time in B6 and the Holte was leading the band. The team picked up the mood and produced some of its purest football in years. Once again we were working together.

This game closed a significant chapter in Holte history. ill-conceived changes to the end and rank performances killed a little of the spirit. We now watched football from a high security corral.

An end of season game meaning little to most Villa supporters. For me, though, the -match was special. This was the match I had chosen to take my eldest son onto the Holte for the first time. We stood a few yards from where my Holte End days had begun twenty-three years earlier. Such a lot had happened on the terrace behind us that had shaped my life that I held a nagging fear he might reject the place. In the event a Cyrille Regis goal in @ seconds dispelled those doubts. This day represented one of those occasions any parent will recognise when a natural cycle was completed.

I expected it all to end on a depressing note – a frustrating final season and the Holte going out with a whimper. Then came the Tranmere game and the old shared focus was back. A gutsy team willed on by the collective force of it’s supporters. But perhaps the most fitting Holte End epitaph came a hundred and more miles south of Villa Park at Wembley. The cup was won, the celebrations underway then, cutting clean through the bedlam and echoing round the stadium, the sound of thousands of voices:

‘Yippee yie aye,
Yippee yie yoh,
Holte Enders in the sky!’

The spirit lives on.

John Harris.

After some hefty Season Ticket price increases we’ve had supporters on here virtually saying “thanks for giving me the opportunity to give you more money Randy & feel free to charge me more if you like” whilst deriding anybody that dare question the rise. There’s a similar point made by mb 4 before this if you don’t believe me!

None of this should be implied that I have any criticism of Randy and his team. It’s just an observation. In fact the kudos of “giving” our shirt sponsorship away is invaluable. It promotes our “brand” (yuk! yuk! Wash my mouth out I hate that term) and actually makes shirt sponsorship even more valuable. It sends out the message to other clubs that we’re not wholly money focused (You hear that RedScouse? You want Barry pay us what we want. What he’s worth, for we, unlike you have money to burn!).

Don’t just automatically assume that this was just some simple an altruistic gesture, for you underestimate the fantastic businessman that is Randy Lerner. And boy are we lucky to have him.

MY ALL-TIME GREAT ASTON VILLA TEAM

The number of greats missed out would easily fill a couple of coaches: Joe Bache, John Devey, Harry Hampton, Gerry Hitchens, Eric Houghton, Brian Little, Frank Moss, Gary Shaw, Howard Vaughton and Peter Withe to name but a few.

Some of these haven’t made my side because they went to Small Heath, some because they didn’t play enough games. I wasn’t sure about including Mortimer now he’s at the Ollbiyun talking absolute bollocks but I’ve put that down to advanced senility – it’s a sharne when it happens to your heroes.

The. really sad thing about the team is the small number of international caps they got (8 for Sid, 5 for Waring, 4 for Evans etc). Scandalous, but it partly explains why England have only won one World Cup and the other home nations sod all.

I’m only old enough to have actually seen half of the team play, but I think the side is beyond dispute (an open invitation for everyone to argue about it). Centegenarians may argue that James Cowan (356 appearances between 1889 and 1902) should play instead of Macca but they can sod off. Macca is God and will always be in my side. ]]> http://www.heroesandvillains.net/archives/6/feed 0 http://www.heroesandvillains.net/archives/62 http://www.heroesandvillains.net/archives/62#comments Wed, 04 Jun 2008 08:50:07 +0000 Martin http://www.heroesandvillains.info/wp/?p=1 Twas on a cold March day in 1997 when Heroes and Villains first hit the ‘net. I ripped off some code from a magazine cd, and uploaded about 12 pages to my Virgin.net freespace account. It joined the “VillaWeb” (what ever happened to that?) as one of the 2 significant Villa sites in Cyberspace.

And now 11 years later, we’re still going strong, the longest running Villa site in the world, thanks to you guys.

It’s been a while since we had pioneered a “blog” frontpage, (remember the Manila site?” and thought it about time that we did it again, so welcome to the new “Fanzine” style front-end of Heroes & Villains.

Keep checking back as we add more and more articles. In the meantime, don’t forget to pop over to the forum.

Cheers

Mac