A belated report, though a story worth sharing for all fans of “The Beautiful game” as well as “The beautiful Bird”.
Whilst at Victoria Park Tipton last year, I noted some strange behaviour on one of the football pitches involving some tracksuited geezers. One had a bucket, the other a bowl and they were going up and down both wings of the field weaving in and out of the potholed turf complete with shovels in hand. It only became clear what they were up to when I noticed what was contained within one of the receptacles- freshly piped goose turds.
It was clear that given the lack of uniform that these were not employees of Sandwell council, who I presume in their maintenance of sports pitches- you would think given the statement made about geese “soiling pitches” would be keen to facilitate the removal of such “deadly” material themselves in “the interests of public safety.”
Bucket of turds
But no, these England Heroes and fellow turd cullers appear to have been doing the job themselves. Fair play thought I, ensuring that those poor little kiddies don’t go blind and “inadvertently swallow” animal excreta before kicking off.
But then what happened next shocked me and I cried “Foul”. One of the players simply emptied his third full bucket into the long grass, just a couple of metres out of the touchline, and out of immediate sight to the naked eye. RED CARD OFFENCE SURELY!
No referee turned up or Russian linesman to halt play as the task continued with more turds ending up in the green stuff.
It all seemed like a hopeless task, but just when the turds were getting on top, in from nowhere popped substitute “Bobby Charlton” complete with wallpaper paste tray and trowel chipping in to save the day.
The serious point to all of this is what these “match officials” were doing just dumping this material a few yards out off the pitch? Closer examination revealed goose pats had been formed.
Some of the turds are on the pitch- they aren’t now
Much was made in John Satchwell’s culling report and in submissions to the joint scrutiny committee about health risks associated with this one birds excrement, yet here is an example of the stuff merely being dumped out of their selfish sight.
One wonders if obsessions with measuring things by time and weight is all part of the anal retentiveness that can build up the stress levels in later life- certainly it appears to be the case with some who participate in amateur sport. Equally I can imagine having to suffer the misery of a father who believes he was a great unsigned talent having to try and live his fantasies through his kid who “ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH!!!”, by shouting at them on the pitch like some form of bullying fat controller. I’ve seen this aggressive behaviour whilst passing some games on different parks and it really isn’t pleasant at all- in fact you could call it “domestic abuse“.
But back to goose turds- if it is so much of a problem, the council themselves do not appear to be tasking themselves to remedy the situation themselves. There are chemical repellents available to deter birds from eating the perfectly prepared habitat of short grass that they enjoy grazing on. Why are the council not providing the amateur teams with the proper health and safety materials or a waste bin that the turds can be emptied into and disposed of in the correct manner?
Of course having encountered the stuff myself frequently over the years and never suffered any ill health effects, from something which is basically recycled grass, it is difficult to see what all this time wasting is really about. Are you men or mice?
But on the theme of management, I also happen to have stumbled on an amateur team that played in the hallowed elite of The Sandwell Division 2 – yes the mighty SPS FC.
SPS, Don’t know what the initials stand for- maybe “Self preservation society”? No idea if they are still going, but they were active just 3 years before the April 2013 report written by Mr Satchwell Senior. Why is this important you cry, well just take a look at who the manager of this team was.
Not only that but his son, Jnr and Dartmouth Park project manager, an integral part of the defensive lineup.
“mascot” Lol
It seems SPS had some mixed fortunes that season, winning some and losing some, at the end of the day… it’s a funny old game… shit I’m starting to sound like a pundit now, though thankfully I don’t use football analogies in everything I do.
At least one of these games was on Victoria Park Tipton itself, classed as an “away” match for some reason- not sure why there 😆
There are some interesting match reports concerning some of the conduct of the players- I didn’t write this- just sharing it as it’s all in the public domain already.
Foul language being used to the referee
The following week “Papa John” took the fledgling team under his wing by giving an ironic pep talk apparently
Were the changing rooms shipping containers. LOL
So here we have a situation where the main proponent of goose culls is in fact involved in football at a very amateur level. I don’t think I’m being unfair to the man in pointing this out, or singling him out, as he would the geese. This I’m afraid is just one example of the idiotic Darren Cooper era of Sandwell council where everything it seems revolved around football- particularly with West Bromwich Albion- for whom the ex leader claimed to sneak into matches without paying as a boy. The other issues being of course nepotism and not being transparent about personal interest being declared in the decision making process.
Now it may come as a surprise to Tipton’s answer to The Cloughs, but we were once “united” in support of the same team at Wembley Stadium seeing the Boing Boingers in a losing effort against Derby County. My visit to the nations premier stadium is not my only one over the years in seeing this team play- though I wouldn’t call myself “a fan.”
The area of Brent, reminiscent of a dog turd with a giant dog biscuit in the middle of it, has much the same grimy appearance as Great Bridge on the Tipton/West Bromwich border- so it could be said this felt like a home game. I also remember playing football on those park pitches with goal posts as jumpers and everyone naming themselves after famous international stars of the day. I was “Socrates”- I’d like to think the philosopher , not the bearded Brazilian.
I also remember watching England go out of successive World cups, swearing at an Argentinian and cursing German penalty takers, but it’s only a game, the world goes on and nothing should have to die for it.