I love Tony!

Education has been a burning subject lately, both nationally, and in the close confines of my own family circle. My eldest has just been through the GCSE selection process, and the whole evening was quite an eye-opener for me. Apparently, and perhaps I should have been - but wasn't - aware, the Coalition has introduced something called the 'E-Bac', or English Baccalaureate. It is (according to the DfE) not a qualification in itself; rather, it seeks to ensure grade 'C' or higher passes in subjects which are perceived as having more value than others. Namely: English; maths; history or geography; the sciences; and a modern language. The E-Bac was introduced to counter the steep rise in the take-up of vocational subjects (one assumes woodwork, hairdressing and such) especially among the lower income sections of society, which means that poor CT kids are not getting a fair crack of the whip when it comes to the Russell Group or a spell as an intern at Conservative Central Office. As a result, they become neets or stack shelves for benefit plus expenses for the rest of their worthless existence.

My daughter's school is one of the shiny new Academies, and as such embraces wholeheartedly any bilge the current crop of fuckwitted Ministers spew out. It is, additionally, a faith school. Nuff said. I have been impressed and surprised by the obvious wealth of resources in the place, and by the enthusiasm of the staff, even if they do seem a bit like drones, all power dressing and watches. My own references for teachers have always been along the lines of frayed cord jackets smelling of pipe smoke, tired cynicism a la Mrs Krabappel, and (with some notable exceptions - I'm looking at you, Mr and Mrs Waites) a strong leaning towards the Left. A bit like The History Man without the sex. Anyway, before nostalgia carries me too far away from the point of this ramble, I find the earnestness and sheer corporate feel of the school somehat overwhelming. Apparently, Business Studies is one of the most popular optional GCSE choices, and the fear of many parents is palpable as they strive to give their kids some kind of toehold on the future.

Worst of all, amidst this desperate grasping for a life, is the cold hearted cynicism of people like Michael Gove. In a tough field, he is a close contender for the vilest man in Westminster. His track record of a warehouse full of bibles and his refusal to include homophobic religious ranting aimed at schoolkids as discriminatory is bad enough. Now, we see just how cosy he has been with the Dirty Digger, seemingly lunching with the old goat and Rebekah Wade on an almost daily basis while Murdoch was laying his plans for a money spinning private education business. Given the most recent Leveson stuff, surely a thorough examination of just how close the Secretary of State for Education and Rupert and his boys were (are...) would be in order? Just the one quote (October, 2004) from Gove, referenced in the title of this post, is enough for me:

"I can't hold it back anymore. I love Tony!"

Although we mustn't forget that he is a millionaire who paid his mother-in-law thousands of pounds of expenses cash while flipping his homes. This is the kind of twat that is setting educational policy for fuck's sake. It has to stop.

So, on to the important lesson doled out to a thoroughly abject Blackburn Rovers, who were turned over easily after a slightly obdurate opening half hour. The team is looking good, with our attacking options as fluid and exciting as I think they have ever been. Bolton to come, and I'm always reluctant to tempt fate, but that should be another 3 points in the bag. Bloody United old boys staying the pace with another last minute clincher against the Canaries. Still looks as if the title's going all the way to the wire.

Carreg Llwyd

Piss off Pearson

Just starting Owen Jones' Chavs - The Demonisation of the Working Class, and it's made me think (once again) about the issue of class in this loose affiliation sometimes referred to as a nation. The first chapter deals with the disappearances of Madeleine McCann and Shannon Matthews. Despite - or perhaps because of - the very different ways in which these stories ultimately panned out - it is very revealing when you actually think about it. The screeching nonsense of Carole Malone and Allison Pearson  are only to be expected, but it was excruciating to read India Knight's comments about the Dewsbury Moor family. Oh, I know she writes unreadable bollocks for The Observer, and is sickeningly smug, but somehow I thought she was just a little bit better than that; a little less vitriolic and dismissive of her fellow human beings. I was wrong of course - despite the fact that she once responded to one of my tweets.

There can be no denying that (with the exception of Polly Toynbee and the recently disgraced Johann Hari) the chatterati all clearly felt that the Matthews family, along with their neighbours, were markedly less deserving of the milk of human kindness than the shiny, professional McCanns. Ever the opportunists, both Cam's crew and the NuLab boys all latched on to the bathetically tragic story of Shannon to reinforce the 'undeserving poor' dialectic which is proving to be so dangerously effective at present.

I was raised on a council estate. My grandmother was a cleaner and my mother a barmaid. My father drove lorries for a living. Nights out were working men's clubs, bingo and thick smoke, cheese & onion crisps and blackcurrant squash. My diet was heavy on offal and potatoes (though I never tried a jacket spud till I was 10 years old) and tea with lots of sugar. Dripping butties were a frequent treat, and my uncles did the pools every Saturday. These days, having attained my university (well, Poly anyway... And all right, it was at Sunderland, but still...) education, and despite living at or just beyond my means, I still choose Waitrose over Lidl (and often over Morrison's) and I eat bruschetta. I listen to opera (occasionally) and prefer BBC4 to ITV1. I'm paid monthly, and struggle just as much as any 'undeserving' benefit-sucking family would when week 3 comes around, though none of my hard-earned wedge goes on mortgage payments. I realise through reading Chavs that I have been guilty of mocking a large section of society, as well as my own heritage, and hang my head in shame. It was perhaps my very closeness to the working classes which gave me the feeling that I could do so, but there really is no excuse.

Footballers of course are paid weekly, regardless that the pay packets of even the modestly well remunerated ones are roughly four times the annual median wage, and it is really very odd that this vestigial link to the days of miners' sons tramping off the cobbles and on to the pitch remains. Substitute cobbles for favelas or African villages, and we have a sign of the times.

I'm not sure how one would categorise Mario Balotelli in terms of social class, because I know little about Italian society and less about Ghanian, but there are occasions when his football class comes to the fore, and I for one am glad that he has chosen this moment to produce the goods. The defeat at Munich could quite easily have marked a downturn in our fortunes, the top of a slippery slope from which arresting the slide could have proved difficult. Luckily, Blackburn are truly shit this season, and that's saying something.

In a haze

Unlike Jimmy Norman and Mick Jagger (among others) time is not on my side, but I have had a few moments of me time over the past few days, and could not have asked for better smog weather in which to laze it away; birthday bowling with my daughter and her friends, a few beers and a laugh with my mum, couple of games of Simpson's Hit & Run, and now it's back to work - if that's what you can call it. The place is like a graveyard today, all the crash barriers laid out in preparation for the big day on Friday, and the vast majority taking the opportunity offered by the many bank holidays to stay at home or head off to Tenerife or Bognor.

Last night I endured the terrible drone of Steve McClaren on 5 Live as the hard-fought victory at Ewood Park played itself out with that satisfying finish from Dzeko. Everyone knows that McClaren is a joke, but by god he was truly awful as a radio pundit. Alastair Bruce-Ball is a vivid and insightful commentator, but it was heavy weather for him as Uncle Steve laboured his way through yet another rambling soliloquy. He will no doubt feel vindicated that his constant repetition of the 'If they make it through the first 20 minutes...' cliché proved almost correct, and I began to want to smash my beautiful Roberts (not Jason) to pieces every time he said 'the boy Jones' or mentioned that he knew De Jong from his time in Holland, and knew 'the boy' Dzeko from his time in Germany. It was one of those commentaries that can turn games, because the energy required to propel your team to victory is diverted to hatred of the voice coming out of the speakers. And yet... It was not to be. Not this time anyway.

Of course, shit as they are (and I have been to Ewood Park. I know) Blackburn were never going to be an easy proposition at home. Big smashers they are and one piece of commentary about a Paul Robinson punt downfield (apparently it momentarily disappeared from sight in the floodlit gloom, it was belted so hard) reminded me with a feeling of pain of England's performances during the World Cup in Japan, when one of his kicks hit the camera which was suspended high over the centre spot. All muscle and scuffle in the box, big half backs diverting the ball in from 3 yards and a horrible sinking feeling. But then, there was Dzeko (who said Balo was offside? Not the ref)  doing a Torres and slotting one in just when you needed it.

Overall, it was a patchy performance which might have been very different if we had stuck one in during the opening 20 minutes, but it will definitely do, especially as the Baggies did so well against Spurs. What a marvel Silva is (though he did switch off for the middle section of the match, and it was noticeable how important he now is to our attacking game) and what a rock Kompany. It's ours to throw away now, that fourth spot, so let's keep going and get it done.

SUPER Sunday

While it's still fresh. Got to love the moment. Fourteen goals in 3 games. Onuoha doing his chances of appearing for Nigeria in June a power of good by getting a brace, and 4th spot looking good, especially with Spuds providing the final fantasy for the Pompey losers (I don't have a heart of stone, and I can appreciate the amazing-ness of their being in a Cup Final after blah blah blah, but I never liked those bastards, chimes and drummers and shitty little place down there. Sorry.) softening them up for the visit of the Gooners in midweek and inflicting the expected psychological damage which will probably lead to the usual end of term choke-up. On top of that, Scousers unable to put the Gentleman's Club to bed, and the most excellent Mr Allardyce keeping the Rags at bay. All in all, what one might describe as a good day at the office.

With the exception of the goal, Brum were surprisingly meek today. Not on a par with Burnley, by any means, but hardly the street fighters we've come to expect under the tutelage of the Hun Big Eck. They got a lot of bodies in the way in the opening 20 minutes, but never looked as if they would pose a threat, and most definitely melted away when we started to attack them. I have to say that Adebayor had a good game, and I felt sorry for him on two occasions when Carlos could have fed him an easy tap-in, but chose instead to try himself. Never mind. He got his own brace, and it was a definitely pleasing team performance. Thankfully, Kolo Toure was not called on once that I can remember to make a saving tackle.

Now, to my previous statement on the end of season placings. Based on current form, I still expect Chelsea to finish top. Two key games yet to come will decide the position beneath them. Should Arsenal do the Spuds on Wednesday night (which is now a stronger possibility than it was. It's a tough one to call, but I feel that Arsene's boys might just have it in them) then the pressure on SAF will be just that little bit more intensified. Again, however, it's a tough one to call, and City are just as likely to implode as they are to win. I'll stick to my guns and say that the result doesn't really matter as long as it's a decent game, like the one at the Sty all those aeons ago.

For the moment then, I reckon it's going to be as follows:

1. Chelsea
2. Arsenal
3. Rags
4. City
5. Spuds

A lovely day.