Child’s Play: Football and bouncy castles

I am reluctant to say that it was a case of the ridiculous to the sublime, but it was a case of what I have a habit of packing into not just an afternoon but an hour of one afternoon. The last day of the Premier League season, and I stop off at Foxes for a coffee. I am en route elsewhere. The bar is – to use the vernacular that it appears we must now do – rammed. The boozerists of Manchester United, Chelsea, Stoke, Wigan or no team in particular. “Jamie’s throwing knives,” says Lee. Leicester have lost.

This is the English at play. Pints, boisterous, laughter, tattoos, lots of white skin having gone red, “come on, you’s”. You couldn’t, in all honesty, ever describe it as refined. A substantial frame heaves into view. “Oi,” I shout, with my best lack of refinement. I need a word. Grizz, aka Minty, is on foot patrol back to the hotel. Along with Pater Minty. I think to suggest that pater looks younger than offspring, but he can read about here instead. A somewhat, how can I put it, bulky child with a pink face asks Minty about later entertainment. “Statues.” It seems to do the trick. Child’s play and the English at play. Refinement is the word that has lodged into my mind as I depart the lager laager. It may be elsewhere.

I have an appointment. Have camera, will spend some time on a Sunday afternoon pointing it at a bouncy castle and a small child on a space hopper. This is the Mallorcans at play. Child’s play and older. There is beer, but it is being served in more dainty receptacles. There is boisterousness, but it is that of children hurling themselves on the bouncy. The tattoo-ing is hidden. The only obvious body adornment is the white clown’s face paint of three “chicas” whom I take to be play leaders.

This is Sa Romana, the impressive Romanesque pile on the road from Puerto Alcúdia into the old town. They have opened a children’s play garden. It seems like a good idea. There is a deficiency of such places. The beer, and the Coke and the juices, come from the “chiringuito”, also a new development. In the evenings it becomes a sort-of chill place. It is the domain of Luis, formerly of the now-defunct Mestizo. The play garden is large, large enough to accommodate a small football pitch as well as all the brightly-coloured paraphernalia and plastic of a Toys ‘R’ Us display area. And as it is all grass, it has a natural safety factor.

The Romana clan is there in force – from Mosquito and Cas Capella as well. The tourist office is represented, though not necessarily in an official capacity. Other restaurateurs are, too. Juan from Varadero, for example. I wander about the garden, photo here, photo there. A large and multi-coloured Swiss ball affair, minus the Swiss as it appears insubstantial, rolls up against me. I’m sure I can hear air escaping, so I ignore it. Slowly deflating oversized beach balls are not my job. Mine is … . Well, what is it? I do at times wonder. The English at play, the Mallorcans at play and earlier I had written the longer story of the Jolly Roger and the piece about tribute acts. Easy. A Sunday afternoon. Child’s play.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

After The Event – Linekers’ World Cup Song

Not quite after the event, because the event hasn’t taken place, but long after the event of the whole gig about getting an England World Cup song going because the Fab-ster had pooh-poohed the notion of Rooney doing a Barnesy-style rap (about three months after the event), comes … .  Sorry, Nobby, it’s crap. Linekers Bars’ World Cup song.

The blog is still fully behind Jess Conrad and “Soccer Superstar” and I feel bound to mention – again – George and the Dragons’ “Green Fields Of England”, which is only marginally better than – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HiWEA5fUjUg

“Express yourselves.”  –  “We want goals.” We want Jess.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Kill The Dog – Why the British don’t watch Real Mallorca

What do you do on a Sunday afternoon? Any time between, say, three and six? In the UK, you may settle down on the sofa to watch the football, or you may be in a bar, watching the football. In Mallorca, you may settle down on the sofa to watch the football, or you may be in a bar, watching football. Wherever you are, what in all likelihood you are watching is the Premier League, unless you’re German, in which case you’ll be taking in the Bundesliga. If you’re more of a nerdy football fan, you may eschew your home leagues, the leagues from where you come, in favour of some other league – La Liga, for example. If you’re even more of a nerdy football fan, you may eschew those home leagues in favour of Real Mallorca; you might even go, if you happen to be in Mallorca.

I may be wrong, but before Paul Davidson came depth-plumbing and blowing his pipes full of what turned out to be fool’s gold I don’t recall “The Bulletin” devoting particular attention to the club or team. Prior to this, I didn’t pay much attention to Real either. It was the Davidson farce that made the club worthy of anything other than indifference, so the British angle can be said to have stimulated attention. The paper’s only regular column on current matters Mallorcan is about Real, and it is now – in association with the club – offering a package to the remaining home games. There is more than just a touch of desperation about this appeal to the British football fan to come and put his bum on one of the thousands of empty seats at the ONO. Look at the games coming up and you might wonder why there has to be such an appeal. Real Madrid, Barcelona and Valencia have all yet to play in Palma this season. If these games can’t be sold out well in advance, you do have to ask whether Mallorca deserves a La Liga side. The stadium does, after all, have a capacity of no more than 25,000.

There are several reasons why the expat would not take up the offer. Take one – telly. What do you do on a Sunday afternoon? This coming Sunday afternoon, Liverpool will be playing Blackburn, Bayern Munich will be up against Hamburg in a top-four clash in the Bundesliga. Mallorca may be away, but even were the team to be at home – against Vallodolid – the result would be the same. Premier League, Bundesliga take precedence. It matters not that one’s own team may not be playing. The home leagues are as much a part of the expat football fan’s make-up as the team he actually supports, as are the cultures of those leagues – styles of play and even the language; the language of the terrace transported to the bar. Sing when you’re winning? You wouldn’t know what to sing at Real Mallorca, even if the fans did actually sing.

Going to a Mallorca game is at best an occasional thing, if at all. It falls into the category of being one of those things that should be done at some stage. A home match against Barça might well be that “stage”. One against Gijon or Getafe? Your expat football fan would be hard pushed to have ever heard of either of them, let alone be able to locate them on a map of the mainland or even pronounce them. There is arguably greater interest among tourists than residents where Mallorca games are concerned, but this interest is part of the holiday experience and stems from a not insignificant motivation on behalf of the football fan to be able to say that he has been to such and such a ground. I once stood among a couple of thousand grumpy-looking Swiss all chomping on Wurst und Kartoffelchips during a God-awful pre-season friendly between Grasshopper Zürich and some other team whose name escapes me. And all because I could say I’d been, and to the ground of a team with a mad name, to boot.

Adopting another team is one thing. Many football fans are prone to this. But to swap allegiance from the original team, from the original league is quite another. It would be like giving up a desire for curry and bacon and eggs in favour of Mallorcan sobrasada sausage and the ensaimada. It just doesn’t happen like this. Football, football teams, football leagues are too ingrained into the fan’s footballing psyche. Which makes me wonder as to those who go native in support of a local team, Real in this case. La Liga may well be one of the two or three “best” leagues in world football, but it’s not your expat football fan’s league; it’s someone else’s, something to perhaps be admired, but not to get fanatical about.

Yes of course, take in the odd Real Mallorca match. God knows they need all the support and money they can lay their hands on, but don’t let’s believe that your average expat footy fans are about to abandon the Premier League or Bundesliga bar in their droves, because they’re not. Perhaps the stronger message coming from Real Mallorca should be – if you don’t come this season, you might never come if the club goes the way of all Portsmouths, ejected from the Premier mother ship without even a parachute payment. This would be along the lines of “if you don’t buy this magazine, we’ll kill this dog”. A threat in other words. Now then, threats. That’s the language your football fan understands.

QUIZ – Who threatened to kill the dog? Famous magazine cover. (I’m sure it was also an album cover by the same “group”, but maybe I imagined this.)

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Real Mallorca heading for administration

Poor old Real Mallorca. It just gets worse. The club’s interim president has taken the first step towards placing the club into administration. A period of three months will now follow a declaration of the club’s insolvency before a judge, a period during which the management will seek some accord with its various creditors. If this is unsuccessful, there will be a month’s prolongation, at the end of which administration would be the result. The timing of the declaration before the judge is not without significance. The four months would take the process up to the end of the football season. The club may yet avoid relegation on account of its parlous financial position, and relegation would be massively unjust for a team that has performed surprisingly well given the off-field crisis.
The club’s president has, meantime, been in discussion with the regional government’s president. One outcome of this is that the government may take over as club sponsors. “The Bulletin” referred to this the other day, though it said the “Mallorca government”. There is no such thing; it is either the Balearic regional government or the Council of Mallorca. Either way, if any government is going to start piling in with some cash for the club, then it could well be asked what the hell it’s playing at. Why should government intervene with a club that has been so mis-managed and which is so poorly supported? It is not a club for the majority of Mallorcans, or anything like it. Nor is it somehow emblematic, in a way that a Barcelona is. The government might perceive some involvement with a new “strategic plan” as a way of garnering electoral support from supporters, but their numbers are hardly great. And one, inevitably, comes back to the question as to why no serious buyer has emerged over the past couple of years. It’s because it’s not really worth anything, despite the remarkable efforts of the team and the coach Manzano who is almost certain to leave at the end of the season, come what may.
Make the most of it, any football fans in Mallorca. What is left of this season might be your last chance.

Swing Lowe – Vicious Sid And Real Mallorca

Sid Lowe. Not a stranger to a bit of controversy and not a stranger to this blog, as any of you will know who recall the ding-dong he caused when he drew attention to an advert in which the Spanish basketball team made “slitty-eyed” gestures at the time of the Beijing Olympics (18 August, 2008: Basket Case – at http://www.alcudiapollensa.blogspot.com). Now it’s the turn of Real Mallorca. The club has apparently sent him a letter expressing its indignation (so it is said in “The Bulletin”) following something he wrote on his “Guardian” blog, which would probably not have caused much of a fuss had it not been picked up by the Spanish media.

Lowe, for those of you who don’t know, is a journo based in Madrid and has made a career out of taking the rise out of Spanish football and sport. He is also a football commentator on Spanish TV, but he is of course British, and it is this – being British – that one suspects people don’t like, some Real Mallorca supporters and officials, that is. There has also been a touch of lost in translation as well as selective reading of Lowe’s piece in which he called Real Mallorca “rubbish” and sub-headed the piece by saying that “Real Mallorca are badly run, financially constricted and have a shoddy team”. None of this is inaccurate, though he goes on to qualify this by looking at the recent farcical ownership fandango and by heaping praise on coach Gregorio Manzano for getting a team of average players to perform as well as it is – to fifth position in La Liga. In response to one of only, from what I can see, two comments taking him to task, he also qualifies the use of the word “rubbish”, one that is typically used in throwaway terms by English speakers. He also said that the club has “no fans”, which he then explains in the comments exchange; the club has a poor attendance record, which is undeniable.

It does all seem to boil down to who you are and where you write. Go back to the title of that previous blog entry about Lowe. “Basket Case” is a term I have used on more than one occasion to also describe Real Mallorca. Lowe’s article is not a million miles away from stuff I have said about Real Mallorca, especially in respect of the ownership nonsense, the lack of money, the level of debt and the fans – I still find it hard to understand how the only La Liga club in Mallorca cannot regularly fill its stadium, one with a capacity of some 25,000. Actually I do understand, because many Mallorcans follow Barça or even one of the Madrid teams.

The mention in “The Bulletin” described Lowe’s piece as “inflamatory” (sic – there is an “m” missing). It was nothing of the sort, and many Mallorca fans would probably agree with much of what he wrote. Indeed many have said much the same thing, especially with regard to the damage to the club’s reputation caused by the likes of Grande, Davidson and the Martí family.

Read Sid Lowe’s article here: http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/blog/2009/dec/07/mallorca-managerial-magic-sid-lowe

In A World Of Contradictions

Returning to a couple of recent stories – the line-up for Palma’s Sant Sebastià fiesta and the ongoing troubles at Real Mallorca.

Palma town hall is copping some flak over the promotion of the fiesta, both in terms of the concentration on the music angle and for not having international acts and not giving greater prominence to local Catalan artists. All very contradictory, but ’twas ever thus. Various cultural and music sorts have voiced their views to the “Diario”, one saying that there should be greater attention paid to other events, e.g. gastronomy (always gastronomy), and our old friends Músics per la Llengua (who were helpful with some enquiries in the summer) arguing that less well-known Catalan acts should be given centre stage (or stages) in Palma. The chap from the Diario’s own radio station is the one who is bemoaning the absence of international artists.

They are all right in their different ways, but the contradictions just go to underline a further criticism of the organisers, that they don’t have a “clear project”. Well they wouldn’t do if people keep offering them different possibilities. Something, though, that needs to be remembered is that Sant Sebastià has two evenings of major ents – one the music, the other the fire-runs and fireworks (assuming the town hall agrees to fireworks this coming January). Both evenings should demand equal weighting, so the criticism of the concentration on the music is partially valid, but nevertheless it – the music – has become synonymous with Sant Sebastià and there is no other island fiesta that has such a long list of acts and such a number of stages. It is curious that the desire for less focus on the music comes from the editor of “Youthing”, the “yoof” what’s on publication that has nicked the presentation of “Time Out” magazine. It is the absence of international acts, which might help to attract an overseas visitor and which might also give greater impulse to overseas marketing, that is the most valid criticism. But if the town hall hasn’t got the money, and it has had to cut its budgets, then it shouldn’t be criticised that harshly.

Having said though that Palma council might be a touch brassic, this isn’t stopping them planning to buy the former stadium of Real Mallorca, which has been abandoned for years, is derelict and a rare old eyesore. Unlike the current stadium, the club actually owns a part of the old stadium, around a third. So for the town hall to be sniffing around with a cheque book at the ready might sound like good news for a club in such an impecunious state as Real Mallorca is. There again, the town hall places a value of around 18 million euros on the decaying old pile, one that it wants to develop as another conference centre. The group of owners reckon it’s worth a minimum of 25 million and won’t sell for anything less, which will mean endless discussions and little hope of Real Mallorca getting its hands on some much-needed readies. Not that six million or eight or nine million would go that far when your debts are some ten times greater than any sale revenue. But anything would do just at the moment, for here is a club in serious danger of being booted down the football food chain, i.e. out of La Liga. 

Meanwhile, the accusations grow against the now disgraced all but brief owners, the Martí Mingarros and their company, Safin. “The Bulletin” has a fan who does a good regular column about the club, and he has consistently been a supporter of the knight in shining armour, Mateu Alemany, who re-emerges at times of regular crisis to put the club back on its feet. Yet even he now suggests that Alemany might have been more diligent in trawling the internet for evidence of the suitability, or not, of the Mingarros and Safin. Apparently, one can find evidence of unsuitability, so questions might legitimately be asked as to whether Alemany was precipitate in selling to Safin.

This Mess We’re In

Real Mallorca. Pronounce “Real” correctly and it sounds “ray-ahl”. Pronounce it incorrectly, in English, and it is real. Real mess, as in right mess. Not even a hundred days have passed since the new owner, Javier Martí Mingarro, took over, having paid something around 4 million euros for this basket-case of a club. Yet now, he has announced that he has nary a euro to spend. And so the club is up for sale – again. Part of the problem is that banks won’t extend credit. Well, what a surprise. Perhaps someone might have asked them before pen was put to paper and the club went into new ownership. 

Even less of a surprise is the fact that Real Mallorca is awash with debt. Anyone could have read the papers to learn that some 64 million euros (and rising) of short-term debt existed, to say nothing of the other 20 million or so. Anyone could have checked the books and discovered that monthly outgoings on first-team players and other staff amounted to 360,000 euros. Not everyone would have been able to say that other players and staff would not have been paid for two months.

A real mess. A real mess that has been gathering force for some time, thanks to the debt run up by the former owner, Vicente Grande. Force and farce, the latter surrounding the ludicrous episode with Paul Davidson who made a monkey of the fans, the club and his one-time cheerleaders in the local English-speaking press.

What is it with football clubs and pretenders to the ownership thrones? For Real Mallorca, read many others, such as Portsmouth or Newcastle United. Whatever one thinks of Mike Ashley, he did at least have money and did pay off the club’s debts. Real Mallorca cannot even bank on this happening, because the banks won’t chip in. And who can blame them? 

Football appears to attract, more than any other “business”, charlatans, dreamers, egoists and nutters. In England, there is at least more money sloshing around from TV. Not so in Spain, unless the club happens to be Real Madrid or Barça. What does Mallorca get from TV? 1.3 million a month. One comes back also to the fact that the club doesn’t even own the stadium with its capacity not that much greater than that of … hmm, Portsmouth’s Fratton Park. There may be real estate lurking elsewhere, but what would be its prime asset, one that might act as collateral, is not its to put up as security. Again, small wonder that the banks are unwilling to play along. The only salvation is that the team, remarkably, is doing well this season.

 

The so-called “humid space” that is La Gola in Puerto Pollensa enjoyed a visitation a couple of days ago. Up popped the environment minister, Grimalt, alongside Mayor Cerdà to do some sort of topping-out ceremony on the parking area. For once, he wasn’t cutting some tape or helping to plant a tree. The environment minister does get about. One day he’s opening walkways in Son Bauló, then he’s doing the same around Artà, the next he’s giving the boss of TUI Germany a hand with the spade and planting the first pine in the TUI Bosc (forest). The latter is a splendid example of corporate sponsorship for parts of Mallorca. I am all in favour. Indeed, I have previously suggested that resorts could be sponsored. Maybe they will be. The sale of naming rights can bring in a pretty centimo. Just ask Mike Ashley who wants to flog off the naming of St. James’s Park. But there is one more sponsorship that TUI should consider. Indeed one ownership it should consider. 

TUI Real Mallorca. TUI-owned, lock, stock and barrel. There you go. Problem solved.

Little Boxes Made Of Ticky Tacky

Not for the first time, the odd little area of Ses Casetes des Capellans in Playa de Muro has aroused some passions. It has, in the recent past, been the site of an outcry over the raising of a flag with Francoist associations on one of the small houses. There has also been concern as to the fact that the sand area, around which many of the cottages are arranged, has been a free parking space for those destined for the beach. Indeed, the regional government’s own tourism website has advised that it be used for parking. Muro council has now decreed that only residents of the town, with a permit, can use the parking area. 

 

To remind you, Ses Casetes sits at the border between Playa de Muro and Can Picafort. The houses not only encircle the parking area but also make their way into the forest that, itself, is part of the wider nature park of Albufera. As such, all the residences occupy dune or formerly dune land, which can also – almost certainly – be classified as “salinas”, dried salt lands. Those of you with sharp memories may realise where this is all leading. Yep, it’s them again – the Costas authority, the one that oversees and determines what is rightfully or wrongfully built in the general area of the sea. (This is, by the way, something of a follow-up to a piece from 5 May: Mean Streets.)

 

Ses Casetes has history. It was originally designated as a holiday retreat for clerics (strictly speaking, I guess, chaplains, which would be the closest translation of “capellans”). That the houses may have passed into private hands as holiday homes is not the issue. What is, is that they contravene what the Costas has established to be land in the public domain. Ses Casetes could be bulldozered. 

 

The Unió Mallorquina (UM) party at the town hall is leading the fight against the Costas’ stance. And it is a fight, in its own words, “for the peculiarity” of Ses Casetes. Nicely put. It is this, the very peculiarity of the area, that makes it something worthy of preservation. The socialists at the Mallorca Council have now weighed in as well, arguing that Ses Casetes is not only unique to Mallorca, it is unique to Spain, too. Perhaps it is, though it may be overstating its significance. As such, it has little merit in terms of architecture, but that very peculiarity should be sufficient to have a heritage site protection stamped onto it. 

 

What has riled many is the fact that the Costas have given only a month for representations to be made against the “demarcation” order, officially announced on 8 October, and that the authority has planned a meeting with residents for 30 November, i.e. some three weeks after the process of representation has finished. As a minimum, the UM is pressing for a month’s extension. Meanwhile, there is to be a protest this coming Saturday.

 

Even were the Costas to reject the opposition, Ses Casetes would not suddenly disappear. Indeed, the rulings on demarcation allow for a maximum stay of execution, so to speak, for up to 60 years. You might ask, therefore, what the fuss is all about. Apart from anything else, the owners cannot, were they inclined to, sell their properties. But the most important aspect is that oddness. Mallorca should cherish its curios and not have them demolished, even if the prospect is some way in the future. The Costas often appear to act in a heavy-handed manner. In the case of the “casetes”, it is heavy-handed and short-sighted.

 

 

Tiki Taka

A few days ago, Andrés Montes, the Spanish football commentator, died. Some of you may recall him being the object of my ribbing during the 2006 World Cup**. He was one of the Three Tenors, as helpfully dubbed by correspondent Alastair I think, the threesome of commentators (which also included Julio Salinas) who would burst into song during a match. Montes it was who coined “tiki taka” to describe the short passing game of the Spanish team, and which he would frequently drop into his commentaries. He was infuriating, but he was certainly different.

 

** (This was on the main AlcudiaPollensa blog – http://www.alcudiapollensa.blogspot.com)

 

I’ll Give You Security

How things can get distorted. The title of 5 August was “only to distort”. It happens. In Puerto Pollensa a new system of security has been introduced in the Club Náutica: security cameras and access barriers to the jetties; cards are due to be introduced at some time in the future. This is all part of a system of security that the Balearics ports authority, responding to improvement demands from the association concerned with moorings, is implementing not only in Puerto Pollensa but elsewhere. 

 

In light of Palmanova (and now Palma), this development is being interpreted through speculation as some sort of response to the terrorist attack. It may be opportune that the system has been implemented now, but it is not and was not a system with terrorism in mind. There is an issue with general security in the ports and marinas; of course there is. This is why Puerto Alcúdia has, for some time now, had a barrier control for vehicles at the entrance and swipe-card entrance to the jetties. There is, at the nautical clubs, a great deal of floating expensiveness that might be tempting to some. Security is necessary and frankly overdue.

 

 

Real Mallorca under new ownership

It has been a while now. About a year ago, everywhere you read (including this blog) was full of the story of the Real Mallorca football club takeover. The eventual collapse of that takeover by Paul Davidson left many not with just egg on their faces but a full English breakfast with double helpings of toast. Initially Davidson was meant to have offered just short of 50 million euros for the club. It always seemed way too much for a club that doesn’t even own the ground and cannot be guaranteed to fill a 25,000 capacity stadium. Now there is a new owner – Javier Martí Mingarro, a Madrid businessman. He has paid four and a quarter million euros in return for the same 93 odd per cent of shares that Davidson was due to purchase – less than 10 per cent of what was on offer when Davidson first approached the club’s then owner. The payment now may not exactly be nominal – four and a quarter million can hardly be described as that – but it is paltry by comparison and will strike many as being so for a club in La Liga. But is almost certainly more realistic than Davidson’s absurdly grandiose offer and pronouncements. When Freddy Shepherd, following the collapse of the Davidson deal (the amount for which had by then fallen by some ten million euros), came and had a look, he said that the club was “unviable”. Certainly for the amount he was contemplating, which was reported variously as between ten and twenty million euros. 

 

As with pretty much everything else, Spanish football has not been left unaffected by the economic climate, unless the club happens to be Real Madrid. But it was in a mess before the crisis. Real Mallorca was and is heavily in debt, and unlike counterparts in the Premier League, clubs in La Liga, such as Real Mallorca, do not benefit in quite the same way from television money. They do benefit, but there is not the same collective bargaining that the Premier League undertakes; individual clubs, for which read Real Madrid, Barça and one or two others, get the cream of the TV money through their own separate negotiations. Four million or so euros for Real Mallorca? It may not sound much in football terms, but it is probably realistic.

 

 

Palma bombs

Little bombs, little bits of very little, save for the odd bits of hysteria. Nothing. Forget it.