The Sporting Hack

I broke out in a cold sweat. It was the middle of the night – 4:16am to be precise – and I’d wrestled like a Panamanian defender or a politician for power with the idea that what if, tonight, the best team won? A clean, straight battle, akin to what we’d seen in the France v Belgium game, between two teams who have exceeded expectations to get to the semi-final? Samuel Umtiti scored the winning goal in a fair contest untainted by drama or allegations, leaving three teams. And yet, the raging pessimist inside my head reminds me that England, should they lose to Croatia, can still finish fourth. The phrase “don’t get your hopes up” was coined, I’m sure, with the England football team in mind. The thought of bowing out gracefully in the semi-finals fleetingly appeals instead of suffering the gut-wrenching agony and potential worldwide humiliation of being inglorious runners up to our Gallic neighbours. Croatia will pose England’s sternest test of the tournament to date. The sprink...

Darren Ferguson doesn’t suffer fools. Not players, press or board members. A conflict of views with the latter proved to be the catalyst from his departure from Doncaster Rovers. I was there for his unveiling as manager in October 2015 (above) and was present at what proved to be his final post-match interview 928 days later following a dour goalless draw with AFC Wimbledon. He looked fed up. In his first interview though he was bristling with eagerness and wanted to cut short the pleasantries in order to get on with the job in hand. Doncaster had begun the 15/16 season sluggishly but shaking them out of their slumber never seemed insurmountable for the Scot who boasted prior success at Peterborough. Rovers were relegated but Ferguson stayed put. He was going to have to be pushed before he would walk and highlighted once more his belligerent streak. The louder the dissenting voices grew, the more he dug his heels in – it was admirable in a way. A summer rebuild was ...

Darren Ferguson’s departure from Doncaster Rovers on Monday evening received indifference from most quarters. Fergie's time is up While foreign supporters wave white handkerchiefs as an expression of disgust, no one in South Yorkshire, it seemed, was reaching to mop away the tears for the outgoing boss who had taken Rovers sideways, at best, and then left midway through the first screening of this year’s Love Island. That may seem harsh, but the consensus that Rovers players were “on the beach” towards the end of the season was inescapable. Anyone who thinks differently – particularly when a side goes five games without scoring - has their heads buried in the sand. Ferguson arrived a dozen games in to the ill-fated 15/16 season and attempted to pick up compatriot Paul Dickov’s tatty rag of a squad. It was to get worse before it got better. Players who were past their best and on big money were not ideal ingredients to avoid a second relegation in three seasons. Nonethel...

In my younger years, I was prophetically – and accurately - told I would like three things in life; cricket, curries and beer. In short, it proved true. Though battling baltis and hangovers is now more my staple than facing the short ball. The assumption that fewer kids are interested in watching a bat v ball contest forms part of my (wider than I’d realised) disillusionment with the game but could it be considered cricket’s own fault? Rewind to 1998 and the fifth and final day of the South Africa test at Headingley and you’ll understand that my first experience of cricket, aged eight, was a perfect one. A dramatic series win proved seminal for English cricket. And though I had no real appreciation of what Darren Gough was doing, both technically and contextually, in skittling the Proteas, I just wanted to be like him so would re-enact his nuances as I would, say, Alan Shearer. And, shortly after receiving a Nasser Hussain playing card for the 1999 World Cup from school, I re...