You Know It Makes Sense

Ten things not to do when managing a football team for the first time:

1) Expect any thanx - whatsoever!

2) Volunteer to wash the strip.

3) Expect anyone to help you to put the nets up.

4) Expect anyone to help you to take the nets down.

5) Go in goal when your regular keeper doesn't turn up - you already take 95% of the blame for when things are going wrong.

6) Expect to win anything.

7) Travel at the front or back of the convoy to away matches. If you're at the front you'll get blamed for the late kick off and if you're at the back you won't get there unless you have an A-Z and the ground details jotted down. Plus - you'll get blamed for the late kick off.

8) Expect players to pay their fines - especially if they've been sent off for violent conduct.

9) Expect your team to get on like one big happy family - you just CAN'T please all of the people all of the time.

10) Expect that anything you see on match of the day, sky sports, setanta or any of the big match shows is gonna even slightly resemble any of the match play that you are more than likely have to make sense of. Only occassionally will you see a true 'Ronaldo' at grass roots level.

If you can manage to get through your apprenticeship in one piece then your skin might thicken enough for you to consider how you might cope at a more senior level...

If I am honest, my first impression was "Wow! This is not for me..." so after the initial two year apprentice period that saw the collapse of the 'B' team (just prior to the conclusion of their first season) and which in actual fact saw the 'A' team reach the 1991 Veejay Cup Final I took a break. I'd made up my mind during the semi final game that this team was hitting a 9.5 out of 10 on the chaos-meter far too regularly. In two seasons L.I.F.C transformed from being a club that inspired positive interest around the community to being the a headline story for all the wrong reasons. "Wanna see a ref get wasted? Okay, see you at the Lion match." "Wanna see a mass brawl between players who are all on the same team? Okay pick me up at 2.30pm and we'll head over to the Lion match." "Wanna see a football strip torn to shreds by a player who's just been dropped?..."
And yet, in the 90/91 season Lion International 'A' managed to reach two semi finals and one final - The Veejay Cup Final. And somehow, for that game we managed to attract around 150 supporters who were willing to give Lion one more chance to roar with pride. If I had any doubt about throwing the towel in for a while, the argument in the changing room 15minutes before kick-off between two so-called team mates and my failure to find any words of inspriation from that point onwards, the late arrival of a key defender, the doom, the gloom and the 3-1 defeat definately made up my mind. Ding ding!!! End of Round One!!!


I guess you catch my drfit...

The Twighlight Zone

It's amazing. That time passes by and no matter what you do or have done, no matter what your past consists of, your experiences, your desires, you cannot and will not see what your future holds. How was I to know that in 2007/08 season I would be giving a half time team talk at 3-1 down in a league cup final to a women's football team who although had shown plenty of promise in their previous seasons, had never won anything before in the world of football? How was I to know that my skills and knowledge were going to be tested to the max on a rainy day in May 2008 and that like it or not my credentials were going to be further defined by my actions. Love football? Don't most people when things are going their way? When the goals are easy to find and the injuries are few and both fans and team have everything to gain and nothing to lose. But when you're back is against the wall - slightly differant story. That's when sleepless nights accompany never ending days. When finding goals are like finding gold dust and when you are easily inclined to question everything that you have previously so vehemently stood for...

Still...this story is yet to be told. Let me take you back to where I previously left off...

Birth of a Lion

For many years the lion was my favourite animal. It is a magnificent specimen, proud and glorious and quite rightly holds the title 'King of the Jungle'

The image of the lion is synonymous with rastafarianism. Negus Tafari at his coronation to the throne of Ethiopia took the name of Emporor Haille Selassie I, King of the Kings and Lord of the Lords, Conquering Lion of the tribe of Judah, Elect of God, Himself, and the Light of the World, Defender of the Faith. Bob Marley sang of being 'Iron like a Lion in Zion'. Many of my friends would (and still do) greet each other with the phrase, "yes m'lion." And yet the idea to name the first football team I formed 'Lion
International' didn't come from me but came as a tongue in cheek suggestion from one of the youths who were passing the time away at Action Sports in the year that I was busy scoping the idea out. Up to this day I am convinced that he was actually taking the mick out of the 'dread' who had appeared out of the blue talking about 'unity' and 'community' and 'football teams' when he had previously been better known for his musical abilities rather than any sporting acumen.

And so, after nuff huffing and puffing, Lion International F.C was born in time to compete in the Bloxwich Combination 89/90 season. Two teams emerged. Lion 'A' were the more senior in age of the two but were the least experienced in footballing terms. No member of the team had played in any team since their respective school days and the challenge of somehow moulding a side that could put up a decent challenge to established league teams was kinda unreal. In addition we had to take into account that some team members weren't exactly what you would call the 'best of friends'. In fact, to say that there was a touch of ill feeling amongst some players would only have been scratching the surface. Lion 'A' was hot like a bubbling pot and at times - fit to explode.

Lion 'B' on the other hand at least were able to say that the majority of team members shared a comraderie that went back to their childhood days. They lived in the same area of town, shared similar interests, watched eachothers backs and were no strangers to football. If it hadn't been for the fact that the 'B' team had disappeared after the first training session only to re-emerge after they had realised that I had managed to pull together another team, then the 'B' team would have probably been the 'A' team and visa-versa.

The one thing I hadn't figured on was just how difficult it is to finance football at grass roots level. Okay you can collect subs and try to organise the the odd fund-raising event now and then but when you encounter the costs of hiring a pitch, buying a strip, paying league and F.A fees, paying insurance, paying the referee, purchasing nets, courner flags and the other pieces of equipment, paying the inevitable fines and finding the petrol to travel both to away matches and league meetings, you begin to realise that community football is no joke. It costs!!! 'No wonder people get so caught up in the winning thing - to meet such costs and still be losing match after match is not very encouraging.' So a lot of my time was spent on a cap in hand mission that at times reaped positive rewards. And it seemed worth it, particularly when Lion's exploits gave the local press something to write about.

The first season was an absolute nightmare. I enlisted the help of my good friend and fellow artist Gary (otherwise known as King Worries) to run the 'B' team whilst I took the weight of the 'A' team on my shoulders. And together we (the 'A' team) lost more than we won, argued more than we agreed and at some points almost totally imploded. The pressure was unbelievable and the amount of times that I almost trotted into the distance never to be seen again only God knew.

Bandyt Re-lived Gallery

Beyond Bandyt

The 80s were characterised by waves of socio-political developments which meant that there was lots to talk about - and in my case, to sing about.

From 1985 through to 1989 Lytton (Banga), Desmond (Desi Roots), Kevin (Ryder), T (Skippa) Sherman and myself (Bandyt) played gigs up and down the U.K as the roots-reggae band known as 'Bandyt'. We were blessed enough to feature on the same bills as artists like Sugar Minott, Maxi Priest and Sandra Cross and to have one of our singles 'Roadblock' played by Radio One's iconic dj, the late John Peel. I was pretty geared up to live my life as an international reggae artist; singer, songwriter, guitarist, the works but unfortunately it all came crashing down when the band split in 1989.

Throughout this period though Britafrican-Caribbean people were on an incredible journey of self discovery. In terms of finding employment, housing and social acceptance the 70's and 80's had been particluarly challenging to the senior generations. Such programmes as Alex Haley's 'Roots' had began to enable society to begin to break down the popular misconceptions concerning black history but the same challenges remained in the 90's. In addition the issue of developing positive self esteem, knowledgeable and positive self awareness and self motivation became a massive challenge amongst the Britafrican-Caribbean community - and all this against the backdrop of a British society that could often have been decribed as "at best extremely aloof and at worst extremely racist."

In the typical stereotypes; if there was anything that black people were good at, it was sports and dancing and as much as I detested to subscribe to such stereotypical notions, I had noticed that in some respects it was actually quite true. We were good (in some cases exceptional) at sports and most of us definately knew how to dance - we had rythmn!!! The fact that we were also very talented in many other aspects of life had simply gone un-noticed or had been swept away by the controlling winds of imperialism and colonialism. And so, with this in mind alongside the virtue of my own (sometimes potentially damaging) experiences I decided that I needed to take action. I needed to join 'the struggle'. And I would join it; perhaps not following in the footsteps of a Malcolm X or Martin Luther King jr or even a Bob Marley type protaginist - but clearly there was a 'struggle' and I needed to join it...

Afro Caribbean F.C Gallery

In the beginning

I was proud to wear the colours of A.C.F.C even though I only ever played for them twice; one friendly and one league match. That's me...the dreadlocked guy on the right.

Truth was I wasn't a good enough player to break into the team. Poor first touch, lack of control and technique, couldn't header a ball to save my life, nowhere near fit enough and also a bit of a loner/maverick. It was also relentlessly naive of me to think that just because the team was called Afro Caribbean Football Club (and I was quite obviously of African-Caribbean descent) that I was automatically guaranteed a place in the first eleven. Amateur, grass roots football, contrary to my beliefs at that time, was not simply about taking part or community spirit. It was about winning - an in order to win you had to play your best available players no matter what their background, age or in some cases even attitude happened to be. For me this didn't fit. All I wanted to do was have something to do. Something that would keep me out of trouble, introduce me to new friends and help me to get a bit fitter and all of my plans looked like being shot to peices basically because I wasn't a very good player. Still, for the short time that I was with them, I was proud. My cousin Ossie (front row - second from right) was a great player, then there was Evo (front row furthest left), Minto (back row - furthest left) Johnny King (stood behind the keeper) and Sticks (crouched in front of me) all of whom I had great respect for. They would all go on to better footballing times than that saturday afternoon when I stood in the ranks. My story was going to be well differant, so differant in fact that I really think that it's worth sharing. You see, life on the sidelines (firstly as an un-used sub then eventually as a spectator) was just the spur that I needed to open my mind to the real opportunities and challenges that life could and would offer. How could I begrudge A.C.F.C wanting success? It was on a cold afternoon following a brief conversation with the team manager that I realised where I was going wrong. I noticed that he didn't seem to have any time for me even though I had been at every training session and featured in a pre-season friendly so I asked him, "when am I going to get a chance to play?" He looked at me and said, "to be honest mate, you just ain't good enough." There was no training at the time so I asked, "but if there's no training how will I get to be good enough?" His answer was, "sorry mate, I just don't know." And with that he turned away and focused his attention on the match that was taking place at the time. But how could I begrudge him wanting success for his team - I couldn't could I? But it was then that I decided that what I could do was to seek some success of my own...