Kevin Day - Who Are Ya?

This book is dedicated to Ali, whom I fell in love with halfway through the Blackburn chapter and still adore; to Ed, our brilliant son, and, more importantly, a Palace fan; and to Molly, whom I love like a daughter. And, of course, to my dad, known by many people reading this as dear old Kenny.

CONTENTS

FOREWORD

I have known the author of this fine book for over 20 years. During that time, he has written countless jokes for me. Some of them were actually quite funny, only to be ruined by my delivery. Others were good enough to not be spoiled by my rotten delivery. Others have occasionally landed me in a bit of bother, whatever my delivery. This was all during 15 seasons of They Think Its All Over for those of you who are unaware, this was a comedy sports quiz show that was pretty popular in its day, lots of fun to be part of, and got very respectable audiences who quite enjoyed watching sportspeople being made fun of. Kevin Day was one of the scriptwriters for the show and despite his allegiance to Crystal Palace, we became friends. I did, though, pretty much always score at Selhurst Park, and because of this I always had a soft spot for Palace (please dont tell him). Despite the show reaching its inevitable conclusion, Kevin would still write the odd joke for me if I had a speech to make, or a big show like BBC Sports Personality Of The Year, in the days when we had time to ask more questions than we do now.

Well, who would have thought that after all this time, Kevin would ask me to write for him? I, of course, was more than happy to do so, especially when I saw the idea for the book: a tome that would prove invaluable for research to those of us who work in the sport and for those who are just enthusiasts of the beautiful game. It would also inevitably be an amusing read, and so it proved to be. The cultural history of every one of the 92 Football League clubs. Well researched, wittily transcribed and accurate.

Or so I thought. Naturally, the first pages I looked at were those of the club that I have supported since I waddled around in just my pants (funny how your childhood catches up with you). As I was reading about Leicester Citys miraculous triumph in 2016, when against all the odds they won the Premier League, I noticed that Kevin had written: How did a decent team with only one genuinely top-class player win the Premier League? Jamie Vardy, who came from nowhere to score goal after goal.

I beg your pardon, Kev, mate.

At this point I was about to call him to say forget your foreword, but as I went for the phone I spotted a small [*] and a footnote at the bottom of the page. Here he begrudgingly accepts that Ngolo Kant (World Cup winner) and Riyad Mahrez (Premier League winner again, with Manchester City) were also top-class players. That, readers, is the authors equivalent of a last-minute equaliser having been outplayed throughout.

Genuinely, though, Ive always enjoyed Kevins wit, his writing and his regular appearances on Match of the Day 2. He loves his football, hes a passionate supporter of his club and the game and his immense knowledge shines on every page. I just wish I could think of something funny to finish with Oh, I know, Ill ask Kevin.

Gary Lineker

INTRODUCTION

Ive always felt sorry for people who dont get football. People who say Im sorry, I just dont understand it. Poor sods. What do they talk about to strangers at weddings, I wonder?

Football has filled my life with joy (and misery and anxiety) for more than 50 years, and in that time the game has changed beyond recognition. But one thing will never change: the insatiable desire to watch Crystal Palace and all the lovely intangibles that go with it; or, as my wife so eloquently puts it: talking the same bollocks to the same people in the same corner of the same pub year after year.

I reckon Ive seen over a thousand football games in my time and been to around 72 grounds, and the lads I still drink with have been to most of them with me. Youll have your own versions of Steve, Roy, Gaz, Chirpy, Dickie and Nick (and all the many others whose names I will mention in the acknowledgements because I promised) and my guess is that your match day experience is similar. Yes, we occasionally talk politics or films, and, even less occasionally, family, but mainly its Palace. Past games, past players, past kits, and always the comparison with the modern game, which normally ends up losing.

My football club gives me a sense of identity. A belonging, a place in a community united by the glorious idiocy of being a fan.

Because there is a kind of idiocy to our support. Not only in its constancy, but in its rituals and its superstitions. Arriving at the pub through one lucky door and leaving by another. Always turning left out of the railway tunnel. Trying to get searched by the same steward. Nonsense but necessary.

For a time I had the best job on TV. I spent 10 years as that bloke from Match of the Day 2, getting up at stupid oclock to travel the country with fans of all shapes and sizes. I loved it, and I was proud that I became known as someone who understood football and gave its fans a fair hearing.

Being a Palace fan actually helped me on Match of the Day 2. There was an innate sense from most football fans I met that we were in the same boat, and had probably picked the wrong team to support. Except we also knew that the bad times are often more fun than the good, and actually bring you closer as fans.

Being a comedian also helps when I meet fans of other clubs. A lot of them seem to think I deliberately chose Palace just for the material. I didnt, but when your goalkeeper nutmegs himself to score an own-goal, it does help to know that its given you a new five minutes.

I am still involved in various podcasts and radio shows, which brings me into contact with all sorts of people in the game. I love meeting people who love football, and youll meet a lot of them here.

Patrick Stewart talks about Huddersfield, Freddie Flintoff about a one-man pitch invasion, Stephen Fry about his days as a football hooligan at Norwich, Sylvester Stallone about Everton and Danny Dyer about cockneys who support Man United. It does his nut in.

There are a lot of people in this book who you will know, and many you wont: like the two disgracefully funny old ladies at Hull, or the blokes in a Portsmouth pub who refused to even speak the name of an ex-manager and the Palace fans who communicated by wheelie bin.

And there are people in this book I would love to have met, if only to find out whether the stories I discovered are true. Why did you start a team in Rotherham that only played by moonlight? What was it like to carry a stuffed fox on to the pitch at Carlisle every week? How many times did you have to launch that coracle at Shrewsbury? I probably wouldnt get the same answer twice. Cherished tales change and grow in the telling.

So here are tales about your club, about every club in the Football League and a few that arent any more. The 92nd chapter is a tribute to clubs currently lost to the League, and one in particular. The anger of every football fan at what happened to Bury FC proved something I have always suspected. We football fans have far more to unite us than to divide us.

Having said that, and to avoid accusations from Palace fans that I have a secret admiration for any other club, I have also included the reasons why you shouldnt support them!

Kevin Day

ACCRINGTON STANLEY