Alan Nixon - an apology

Sort of right

Recently we printed a series of stories which suggested sports reporter Alan Nixon is a 'lumbering fatarse', a 'tabloid chubster', a 'fat prick' and a 'turd' who spouts 'made up transfer bollocks' while wearing a 'meffy leather jacket'.  

We now realise that is not the case and apologise unreservedly.

If we gave anyone the idea that Nixon is a 'lumbering fatarse', a 'tabloid chubster', a 'fat prick' and a 'turd' who spouts 'made up transfer bollocks' while wearing a 'meffy leather jacket' we are very sorry. 

We accept that Nixon is not, nor has ever been 'lumbering fatarse', a 'tabloid chubster', a 'fat prick' and a 'turd' who spouts 'made up transfer bollocks' while wearing a 'meffy leather jacket'.   

It is not the intention of this lifestyle advice site aimed at superhunks and the women who worship them to make anyone think that sports reporter Alan Nixon is a.. well you get the idea. 

Sorry.

In other news, course he is. And this.

But what's the spread like - part 3

Ace

Continuing the breakneck tour of the press rooms I've been in we land, spent but happy, at:

Leeds (Leeds, Leeds) United:
This was when Leeds had just got relegated to what is now the Championship but then was probably the First Division. Sorry to the anonymous commenter on the previous two instalments of this who started to cry when he saw I'd got the location of the Fulham press box wrong.
I don't really remember Leeds that well, the press lounge was alright though, and Elland Road is an ace ground.
This was during the Ashes in this country - not last time but the one before - and everyone missed the kick off as they were watching 'snakehips' Shane Warne's last ball. There's probably a Liz Hurley joke there but I can't think of it.
All the fielders were funnelled up either side of the batsman like some guard of honour. Either way, I had some sarnies.

Leyton Orient:
This was after they'd put those flats in each corner of the ground but, I think, before they'd got planning permission for them. So they were all empty and I couldn't really see the appeal anyway. What if you were on nights on Saturday?
The press box was at the back of the stand (presumably the big one) I think, and I vaguely remember it being a turd of a climb to the top. No memory at all of the grub though.

Liverpool:
Top drawer. In front of me as I picked me brief up was rock star Chris De Burgh who had a brief chat with the security guard who then turned to me and said: 'I love his music you know,' in some kind of bizarre confessional/coming out. I had no alternative but to give him the stinkiest of eyes.
Inside it was like Goodison only red and with loads more trophies. There was a nice spread of sarnies and stuff, and a brew. Some old boy sidled up to me, possibly to defend the south side of the buffet as I had a right plateful.
He asked which way my farthing was going today. I replied the other lot. Can't remember who Lipewlfubbleclub were playing but there was a minute's silence (I know) which the crashing halfwit from BBC Radio Merseyside - not Alan Jackson, the other one who presents the football - answered a phone call in the middle of.
And this wasn't on his mobile, this was an old BT phone which he let ring for a bit. I'd made double sure my phone was on silent as I didn't fancy the solemnity being punctured by a tinny version of Z-Cars.
Benitez was the manager at the time, but this was before he went mad.

Muzzies everywhere

Manchester City:
Now you're talking. Hot food before the match, sarnies at half time AND after - a few fellas were filling their pockets. And beer too!
Some people don't like City's ground but they're idiots. The view's good, there's leg room - what more do you want?
The press box is good, quite low down on the same side as the TV cameras are, with the press lounge big enough to cope. The managers do the press conference in a weird chapel-like room (which may be a chapel) where you can often, if you're lucky, see Alan Nixon in his meffy black leather jacket. When he's not making up bollocks transfer stories like. Or maybe he does some of them there - just think, you could see the magic happen.

Previously:
Part 1
Part 2

But what's the spread like - part 2

I like the use of 'the' here

Continuing the rundown on press/malingerer facilities at England's football grounds. Next up, let's have an odd hush for...


Fulham:
Ah, Craven Cottage. Such an odd combination of quaint and prefab.
I always have it in my head that the Cottage is a proper old ground but the reality is three quarters of it is new.
The press lounge and box are in the last remaining old bit, the Johnny Haynes Stand (except the Cottage itself), named after the ground-breaking cabaret act of the same name.
He used to entertain the troops after their submarines docked at Fulham harbour with his monkey juggling act (the twist being he juggled the monkeys) until his death from lead poisoning in 1978.
I had to smooth my way in at Fulham as I'd forgotten to get my press pass request in early and they were full but I went along anyway and, after some whimpering on my part, they let me in.
This was a few years ago and there was still a touch of 'we're just glad to be here' about the club. Here being the Premier League and Craven Cottage I suppose.
Decent spread before the match and at half time (Marksies sarnies if I'm not mistaken, and soup I think) but the press box is stuck away at the back of the stand towards the corner. Like you might with do with a relative you're ashamed of at Chrimbo.

Gillingham:
My word they were friendly. Another of those clubs where two people seem to do everything. Helpful, nice, good spread (sarnies and pies with a choice of brew - most of the clubs in the bottom two divisions offer the same sort of thing), good press lounge, good bogs, good view from the press box - all good. Famously Gillingham has the highest ratio of chip shops to people in the country, 1:3.

Llllllet's get ready to rrrrrrumble!

Huddersfield Town:
I got to the door and was told in no uncertain terms that my attire was inappropriate for the day's event. I had on jeans, some kind of plimsolls, and a shirt. But Huddersfield - certainly at the time - operate a dress code for the press area and just weren't ready for the hard rocking lifestyle my clothes represented.
They had to get the chairman down to give me special dispensation, a mild rebuke and eventually entrance to the stadium. He was right of course, I'd not thought to check and just assumed. But it's his gaff and I should have made sure (something I always did after this).
Anyway once inside it was all very nice. Can't remember much about the lounge but the press box itself is ace - loads of room and split into pairs so you're not surrounded by the brutes.

Ipswich Town:
Absolutely brilliant - ace facilities, ace ground, ace people, ace grub, and beer afterwards. It was absolutely sodding freezing and they gave us these little square things which, when cracked, went all warm. I sat on mine.
Joe Royle was Town manager at the time and he was smoothness personified in the press conference. Just breezed in, sat at the top of the weird stage-like area he was to make his address from, poured himself a glass of red, listened to the question which was already being asked, took a sip and started.
He knew all the local press cats' names and was engaging, funny, and massively likeable. After he finished, Royle and the Ipswich press man headed off down a corridor. I pursued, introduced myself as a reporter and an Evertonian and said: 'I know it didn't end well for you at Everton but that cup run of 95 was one of the best times of my life. I just wanted to say thanks.'
He was slightly taken aback at first but then said: 'Great days weren't they?' And chatted about the moderate blues until the press fella gave him the hurry-up.

Previously:
Bolton to Everton

But what's the spread like - part 1

Stately

The new football season kicks off tomorrow, seemingly to nationwide shrugs. But no matter, it's the perfect time to rate the most important things any togger club can offer - the matchday facilities for those freeloading know-nothng weasels, the press.
I used to move at the runtish end of these fetid circles so here's a few gaffs I've sampled.
Remember they might have changed a lot since. Possibly they've replaced food with beatings, in these chastened times. I'll do the rest next week probably. If nothing else I'll tell you about Standard Liege.

Bolton Wanderers:
As you'd expect from a new-ish stadium, nice and clean. Good size press room, excellent view from the press box, friendly staff. Decent spread I think - can't really remember but I'm getting a strong pie vibe from memory. Stuart Hall let on to me as he was leaving, so any way you slice it I was the day's big winner.

AFC Bournemouth:
Small, tight ground with facilities to match. Staff were spot on, including the fella (I think this was Bournemouth anyway) who wrote all the copy for the programme, took the pictures, designed the pages and proofed them all. I think his wife had left him.
Also this was where I saw the fattest ever former player - worse than Alan Brazil. Can't remember his name but he was so big he had to sit in the aisle (on the stairs) as the seats were too modest for his stature. He was working for local radio I think.

Brighton & Hove Albion:
This was the Withdean and it was bizarre, but I really liked it. It felt more like being at the fair than the match. For those who don't know the Withdean is also a local sports facility, and while the match was going on there were some fellas having a game of squash inside the ground, under the stands I think.
There wasn't enough room in the press box for me (see above) so I watched the match with the home lads who do the tannoy annoucnements in this little hut. It was ace. Nice brew but can't remember the grub.

Charlton Athletic:
Oh the giddy days of the Premier League. Hot food and a nice brew before the match, sarnies at half time. Probably a scotch egg sliced three ways now with the South London Press man demanding first dibs.
Interesting variation on the press box at The Valley, which is an example of how you can re-do a ground but retain some of its character. It's actually the front row of the top deck of one of the stands. Works well and there are these tiny little tellies for you to watch replays on. Oh yes, for all the bellyaching you get in the press about referees missing things, you don't half hear a lot of 'who scored then?' in the trenches.
Only down side at Charlton is the press lounge is in a different bit to the box so you have to go outside and mingle - shudder - briefly with the public. Ghastly.

Chelsea:
Utterly sensational. Ace food, booze, big old press room. Not massive press box and it's low down on the same side as the dug-outs, but there are tellies and that.
Can't remember what the staff were like, I was there with someone else (who was working) so I just stuffed myself and boozed solidly.
But the overall impression was definitely of the big time. For all the bluster and the upsetting the squares with their vulgar money spending, there is a definite air about Chelsea. They belong where they are. Whether they can stay there when the money tree dries up remains to be seen, but the swagger is definitely, justifiably, there.

Colchester United:
They'd just built the stadium when I visited and hadn't even finished all the roads, so it's probably improved a lot since then, but my overall memory is one of traffic jams.
Once inside the ground is like a lot of the other new ones for clubs at that level - tidy. Can't remember anything else but it seemed to be very green.

Crewe Alexandra:
Brilliant. A proper old ground with the press box at the top of the stand you see when the train pulls in (that stand is much higher than it looks when you're climbing up it). Probably the best view of any press box I've been in.
No spread as such but you get a voucher for a pie and a cup of coffee which you pick up from the bit under the stand. That's right, you have to queue with the paying public.

Crystal Palace:
Ace. Utterly sensational pre-match music and a perspex screen at the front of the press box to keep you separated from the general.
Really good eggs working there - the sort of people that keep a lot of clubs running with their goodwill. Some clubs, in fact I reckon most to a degree, take this a little for granted, which is one reason people working in football that aren't players get paid so badly. If you're doing extra for free why would they pay you more? Especially when there are people waiting to take your job?
There seems to be a real spirit of union between those working for the clubs that I've never seen in any other field of work, which I think is born from the knowledge that they're all getting slightly mugged for the 'privilege' of working in football.
Anyway there's a nice spread of sarnies in this little room under the stand (same corner as where the players come in) and you get a brew. Ian Snodin came bounding over after I nodded at him - I think he thinks everyone who lets on is someone he's met in a pub.
Bit of a squeeze for the press conference - they have to redo the room for this, a bit like after the meal but before the 'do' at a wedding. Only with Iain Dowie instead of a bride and their press man as the already brow-beaten groom.

Everton:
Another corker here. Really friendly staff, nice little spread (pies, possibly sarnies I can't remember, tea) in a very small room under the Main Stand at stately Goodison Park.
Like their runtish upstart neighbours Liverpool, Everton's press box is small but functional - and why should they extend the free seats into the paying areas?
The view is exactly the same as any comparable bit of the ground in that there's always some of the match happening behind a colossal pillar, but it feels like a real stadium. One where great things have happened.
The press conferences are in the same room (again, this might have changed) where it's a bit of a squeeze but that adds to the feeling of it being, I felt, slightly more like a chat than a staged event. Quality.

'Well you should call it a courgette pizza with some seafood then'

Red

These were my parting words as I left Deptford's Big Red pizza bus thing, next to the Bird's Nest pub (ace) just by Deptford Bridge DLR on Saturday eve.
I'd been there once before and had this mega ace pizza with sausage (I think) and black pudding - I know! - so had returned with hopes way north of high.
Like a fool, I let my fiery Latin nature interfere with the ordering process and, instead of sticking with the clear winner of the previous visit, my eye was taken by the seafood pizza. 
The menu boasted 'fresh squid', prawns and courgettes, and that was good enough for me. 
A Meantime Pale Ale later the grub arrived and I prepared to tuck into my feast with extreme prejudice. Imagine my horror when I saw the plate before me - I was so enraged I forgot to take a picture.
Three prawns, two bits of squid (which were rather tough but then that is the nature of the beast), and courgettes all over the show - scattered around with gay abandon. A sea of green disks mocking my heartache.
The pizza was alright but, unlike the previous visit, this one didn't pass the fold test - namely you should be able to cut a slice and, just folding it slightly upon itself, it should remain straight to the tip. 
This enables smooth mouth eatage - anyone eating pizza with a knife and fork wants locking up in sandpaper-and-nail prison, something I've just thought of where everything is made of sandpaper and nails, including the toilet paper. Which also has tabasco sauce in the fibres. And knives. 
On lesser topped pizzas - your mushroom, for example - you really should be able to just pick a slice up. Yes there will be droopage towards the end but you get the point. This one was flacid. The base, tragically, was too thin to maintain the toppings. My previous visit the base was good. The service on both visits was fine and the place itself is nice.
But I was gutted.
On leaving I said to the fella: 'You know, the seafood pizza is a little light on the seafood.'
'How do you mean?' he replied.
'Well, three prawns?'
'But they're real prawns.' (I didn't quite get this bit)
'Lot of courgettes though, maybe you should rename it'. And you know the rest. I shall return once more before registering my definitive view of Big Red Pizza, which is at 30 Deptford Church Street, SE8 4RZ.