On July 1^st ( see entry for that date) I wrote to the Secretary of State for Health, Alan Johnson regarding the fiasco surrounding my (hopefully) life saving, and changing treatment for Cerebella Ataxia.

This is his reply.

Dear Dermot,

Thank you so much for your letter of July 1^st and I am sorry for the delay in replying, but things have been a bit hectic lately.

I was very impressed by you letter and the important points that you make. I have taken the liberty of writing to the Chair of the Primary Care Trust to question the way in which you were treated, and to see if there is anymore that can be done for you.

I’ll write to you again when I receive their response and my very best wishes to you and your family.

Yours sincerely,

Alan.

There would have bee no complaints from this quarter as eleven home League defeats tells it’s own story, the nadir being a 2-5 reverse to the might of Ipswich, this on top of a 2-4 thrashing against Southampton also at Walton Street, and away misery included a merciless 5-0 walloping by Colchester.

There wasn’t even the consolation of vanquishing the White Shite who, despite being relegated managed to win at Walton Street on a bone chilling January night when the players simply couldn‘t be bothered.

What went wrong?

In summary, it starts with the departure of Peter Taylor as, having struggled at the start of the inaugural Championship season by paying the opposition too much respect, we found out how to close down games and win ugly in the fixtures that mattered, 1-0 wins over Crewe and The Damned United spring to mind as we defended from the front and killed the game once we scored. Not pretty, but part of the learning process.

Having secured Championship status Chairman Adam Pearson promised to spend big in order to build for future success.

But no matter how much we fool ourselves about Peter Taylor, the truth is he only saw City as a means to repair his damaged managerial reputation.

Otherwise why would a guy who coached and then managed the Senior England Team, appointing Beckham as skipper seemingly out of left field, be bothered with a Club in perennial turmoil and lumbered with the eternal sobriquet of “under achievers”?

Quid Pro Quo. The ultimate footballing symbiotic relationship with both parties heartily satisfied in the wake of back to back promotions, but Taylor had the proverbial Red Light on and any reasonable suitor would do. Especially an old flame. Along came Palace and away he went, with this correspondent’s best wishes. We understood the deal.

Enter Phil Parkinson.

Not one dissenting voice was heard from any quarter.

A Smart Move. Well Done Pearson. The Boy Done Good. Hot Shot Young Progressive Manager.

The last statement provides the key to why a forward thinking coach, tipped for the Premiership ended up getting the old Tick Tack.

Player Power. The Comfort Zone. As a pose to Pro Zone.

Stuart Ayles was commissioned by Parkinson to sort out the fitness levels which to any observer, were not up to scratch for a team hoping to climb the table.

He devised a rigorous programme, but it seem the Senior Pros weren’t having any of that, thank you ever so much.

£4k a week apparently only requires a player to turn up a 10am, do a bit of jogging and some five asides, then home in time for Bargain Hunt.

The players, revolting in every sense of the word, lobbied the Chairman who responded by sacking Ayles and Parkinson’s assistant Frank Barlow.

Wrong, wrong and wrong again.

He should have chucked the players out and made them run ten laps of the perimeter for having such confounded cheek.

Pearson, instead sent the squad and management to a Five Star Country Club in the Midlands for a three day “bonding” session allowing Parky to make it clear what his vision for the Club was and to move the thing on.

How did the players reward him? By caving in to a 5-1 walloping at, of all places Colchester.

This game would have meant the world to the Manager but the players made it clear they didn’t give a toss. Not my problem Guv. Cheque please!

The clamour from the “fans” sealed it after a supine capitulation at home to Southampton.

Exit Stage Left Followed By a Bear. Enter Phil Brown. Everyone’s Mate. A Good Lad. Balm The Wounds.

Brown is a crap Manager, has no tactical awareness or people skills. As long as he is liked that’s all that matters. He has signed a right royal rogues gallery of Old Lags on fat wages, instead of paying fees for young, hungry players on the way up.

Virtually all of the players coming in (Richard Garcia excepted) are around the thirty years old mark as are the ones he has failed to sign.

Juniniho. Is someone on drugs? The only “message” this sends is to agents with older players who can no longer cut it at the top level, and are looking for some mug to give them one last pay day.

This policy is sanctioned by the new Chairman, a Southern media type with no previous experience in football.

Fatal. A hubristic Manager and a rookie Owner.

Prediction is that we will be in the bottom three by October, Brown will be sacked and the pantomime season will begin in earnest. Hope I’m wrong.

The museum which is located in this famous Son Of Hull’s family home, conveniently located in the Museum Quarter of the Old Town, has be reinvigorated and is well worth a visit.

It’s amazing how, when you live in a place you ignore what’s in front of your nose in favour of visiting other Northern locations such as York, Leeds or Lincoln.

The weekend was ushered in with a yacht race from Rotterdam to Hull completed by eight of the vessels which are to compete on a Round the World Challenge which sets of from the Mersey in September.

Yorkshire Forward, which is a Government Quango charged with spending Public money in order to attract business to the Region has devoted £4 million towards the entry of a yacht (The Hull and Humber) and crew in the Global Race, and the evidence was on show yesterday as the Clipper Class yachts were paraded in the River Humber, and very impressive they are too. (See photo album).

Yes, we can carp about the money and I can’t imagine for one minute that a business person watching as the boats sail up into New York Harbour under the watchful eye of the Statue of Liberty will jump up and down screaming; “We must invest in Hull!”, but it does raise the profile of the City as one with drive and ambition, and let’s face it, it is very easy to be cynical about such investment. And in the wake of the floods people will carp.

The magnificent, and underrated Waterfront of the City was shown off to be a vibrant and picturesque place, and for once in this wretched “Summer” we had a reasonable day to show for it.

We spent the day in the Museum Quarter, firstly at the Street Life collection which show the old transport systems of the City, set in contemporary scenery followed by the Wilberforce House which is lively, informative and has something for everyone. Conor is only four, but loved it as there is a trail for young one’s to complete whilst I immersed myself with the history and politics of slavery right up to the present day.

This includes a depressing, but necessary montage on contemporary racism in Britain including a contribution from Ian Wright who has donated a signed shirt.

And our very own Clive Sullivan’s World Cup Winner’s Medal from 1972, when he was the first black person to captain any British national side, is present reminding us (as if we need it) what a truly trailblazing and heroic person he really was.

The whole thing which doesn't cost a single penny, allied to the weekend's events showcase Hull (for once) in a positive light and I for one am proud of our Tradition of defiance (The English Civil War started here when the King was refused entry to the City) and progressive poltics via Wilberforce, and more recently John Prescott and Alan Johnson.

I admit to a certain amount of trepidation in the lead up to the film, as I am a massive fan of the TV show which I believe is the best ever comedy, due to the absolutely cracking, clever dialogue and characters that maintain the balance between situation comedy and downright farce.

The scenarios are always grounded in a reality, however tenuous that the viewer can relate to, and the key to the success of the show is it’s multi layered approach which means that a four year old and his Dad can both get equal enjoyment. It is genuinely subversive, whilst brilliantly entertaining and it’s hard to find a show that has done all of the above on a consistent basis.

However….. My fears were grounded in my impression that the show had lost it’s edge in the last five years, and Homer in particular had become too obvious, too stupid, well just too… That’s not very eloquently put, but it’s an opinion that fans of the show may relate to.

The Ricky Gervaise penned episode was a particular low, and the one featuring Tony Blair wasn’t too clever either.

The first decade relied on a sense of subtlety and irony (both traits that the British Liberal Public School Left accuse the Americans of lacking) which seemed to be diminishing in recent output.

There was no need to worry as this film will go down as one of the best films in the comic genre of all time.

Mark Kermode of the Observer uses the benchmark of five laugh out loud moments or gags to judge if a comedy is any good.

The Simpsons Movie passed that test in the time it takes Homer to eat a doughnut, Marge to have her first nag and Bart outwit his Dad, ie no time at all.

I laughed, along with a full cinema throughout the film, and a couple of brilliant lines made me miss the next joke so a return viewing is inevitable.

I won’t give too much away, but Ralph’s line after Bart’s nude skateboarding dare, Marge’s take on what it means to be a woman, Homer’s advice regarding urinal etiquette and the slogan on a Duff Beer blimp early in the picture are amongst the many highlights, plus of course the merciless baiting of the Fox Network and American politicians. Watch out for the Al Gore jokes.

The first review on IMDB.com sums the film up to perfection;

“For Simpsons Fans it will be the best of all feelings to watch this movie.”

Dead right matey.

Play didn’t resume until 4.40, so I wasn’t too upset as it was a filthy day to be sitting around in the cold and drizzle. Nevertheless 41 overs were possible with Kent chugging along to 135/2 by stumps.

Young Joe Denly impressed as he left the ball well and refused to be drawn into any Dazza histrionics, the Yorkshire Skipper doing the old hand-on-hips-how’d-you-miss-that routine. He is still there on 60, his 15 match First Class Career has so far garnered 1136 at 54.09, definitely one for the future.

We saw eight overs which saw the men from Kent reach 21/0, Gough bowling fast and straight allied to Gillespie swinging the ball away, beating the edge of Key’s bat on a couple of occasions.

Given the dire weather that has denied Yorkshire the opportunity of victory points in the last four matches, Gough was understandably so desperate to stay on when the light closed in, that we had the privilege of seeing the leg spin of Adil Rashid in the seventh over.

The youngster is a delight to behold. I’ve seen him bowl in the flesh four times now, and he has control, flight and bounce. He rarely bowls a four ball which is some achievement for a leg spinner, and a minor miracle when you consider he is only 19 years of age.

In addition to 56 wickets in just 17 games, with three five fers and a best of 6/67, he has recorded 5 50’s and remained marooned on 91* in the last game, at home to Surrey.

I was relieved in a way that his England Lions debut a couple of weeks ago saw a return of 0/90 off just 12 overs, and a duck with the bat, as it dampens down the wild talk in the press of an England Cap. He isn’t ready and we’ve been down this road before with Chris Schofield, and to an extent Jimmy Anderson, although the Burnley man produced some sublime swing bowling in the last Test.

A lot of agony with those choices, but also some really fun times which make it all worthwhile.

Padraig Harrington’s amazing win at Carnoustie which was the climax of one of the finest Open Championships in recent times, and once Justin (whom I taught at Robert May’s School) was out of the hunt there was only one man for me and that was the immensely talented and likable Irishman.

His acceptance speech told you all you needed to know about the man. Quiet and understated, yet confident and giving the plaudits to the unsung heroes that make the Open such a great event. The volunteers, the green staff and above all the fans.

Harrington came to my attention in the mid ‘Nineties when he broke through onto the European Tour lifting the Spanish Open in his first year and making his Ryder Cup debut in the ill feted Brookline Match of 1999, but he had gone on to be the nearly man so many times, thus when he found the notorious Burn on the 18^th I had a sinking feeling….

I felt so sorry for Sergio Garcia. The guy has cohones, as his compatriots would say, as having led for much of the event he somehow overcame the potential implosion of losing three shots mid round, to end up in a play off as he lipped a putt on the 18^th. I was sure it was down as the brilliant TV pictures showed the every contour of the eight footer but it stayed out and by such small margins greatness is won or lost.

But Padraig overcame his nerves the best in the playoff, despite missing a six footer on the third extra hole which would have killed Sergio’s hopes, and playing the last too conservatively. But by that stage the Spaniard was spent and it was a bogey that won the Jug in the end.

Somehow an appropriate, if not a particularly fitting end to a day of sublime golf, mixed with some shots that shattered hopes.

I was glad the usual suspects were absent from the top of the Leaderboard, making it an exciting and unexpected few hours of really gold quality competition which epitomised why sport is so great.

Some butt clenchers (in no particular order).

Kiwah Island Ryder Cup 1991. Langer’s putt (missed).

Ireland v Spain penalty shoot out 2002. (Lost).

Liverpool 0-2 Arsenal 26/05/1989.

Second Test V SA when the Lions clinched the series win against the defending World Champions. 

Kelly Holmes on the home straight of the 800 metres in 2004 Olympics.

The whole of the 2005 Ashes Series (after the obligatory Lords debacle.

Munster’s march to the European Cup in 2006.

City needing to beat Burnley 3 zip to go up in 1984. We won two nil.

Redgrave’s final Gold in Sydney.

The first thirteen seconds of the RL Ashes 2004. Morley got sent off. Series over.

I went to London on Tuesday in a state of turmoil, as upon closer analysis of the letter written upholding my appeal allowing me treatment for Anti GAD associated Progressive Cerebella Ataxia stated one course of treatment only…

And that’s the key sentence.

I don’t need to elaborate on the purpose of porn. It’s pretty damn obvious, so for Dexter or indeed Eli Roth’s Hostel to be truly “porn”, they must by dint encourage feelings of violent excitement in the viewer.

This is the hard part. One person’s turn on’s are anathema to others, so you have to go on the basis of probability, and for me neither Hostel or Dexter seem to have the aim of titillation.

True, they may be deeply offensive to some, and possibly get a minority all hot an bothered, but there is always the option of not watching. You’d have to be a bit of a simpleton to accidentally view either as the warning are strong.

No one is going to suddenly turn into a violent sociopath because of these offerings. If they did it would have happened anyway. There has to be an element of treating the audience as adults.

Dexter for me, poses that question of how society is organised so that we disdain this sort of casual violence, which 150 years ago was on public show via executions. The ultimate snuff for the masses

There is definitely a strain in the human soul that is capable of unspeakable acts. The Holocaust is a prime case in point historically, and Rwanda, Bosnia and Darfur are contemporary evidence.

Eli Roth also poses an interesting point for discussion. How come we can “tolerate” mass killings in Iraq but get so utterly wound up by the violence in Hostel, which incidentally I found darkly comic rather than offensive?

Cochrane cites misogynist angles in her criticisms but having seen Vacancy, Captivity, Hostel and Dexter I can only lay that charge at the first mentioned picture in which a man beats a woman whilst uttering hateful, gender based abuse.

Had the victim been black, and the language racist then I’m sure the censor would have taken a dim view, but the other movies contain non such anti woman material.

Overall I can’t see what the fuss is about. If you don’t want to wonder about why a man may murder another, drain all the blood away and chop him up and freeze him, or indeed a woman chop a bloke’s appendage off, then simply heed the warnings and don’t bother.

But that’s not what Dexter and Hostel are about any way. They are about the human condition and what can go wrong. Hostel especially, is damning of a Society where if you are super rich, money can buy all including the power over life and death. Capitalism taken to the nth degree.

Live Earth My Arse….

So here it is;

Your surroundings influence your style, be it as a writer, artist or musician, so I don’t have a problem with it.

You can hear the Libertines in the Arctic Monkeys, ska in the Kaisers and New Wave rock in Franz Ferdinand, but if the listener gets that inexplicable frission of excitement which turn gigs into emotional an connection between the band and the audience, that’s all that matters.

That’s why rock is so great. It unifies people in a shared experience and anyone can have a go. If they have talent it will get recognised, as the MySpace phenomenon proved with the Arctic Monkeys, who as an unsigned band had literally hundreds of thousands of people getting the idea of their ethos and music online.

I am knocking on 40 and I guess there are those who think I’m sad for following new bands, but when I heard the Editors I saw the spirit of Joy Division and it just clicked.

Same deal with Dirty Pretty things and how I felt seeing bands in the ‘Eighties and early ’Nineties with the same connection to the audience. The Levellers spring to mind. Not for the musical style (obviously) but for the ethos where the artist means it.

As with Oasis. I loved that Band and indeed a great deal of the stuff around that time.

October 1994 I was in Our Price in Farnham minding my own when I heard "Cigarettes and Alcohol". I went up to the counter and said "Whose that? Can I buy it now?"

It was that instant. Raw in your face Rock and Roll.” Definitely Maybe" did as much for UK music as Punk did. Fresh and basic. The ultimate "Three Chords and the Truth".So simple.

Bear in mind the previous week I'd been to see Pink Floyd. One of my favourite bands but hardly world changing stuff. The thing with Oasis is, like U2 they appeal right across the class boundaries. The best music brings people together and can reflect change in society.

John Major and The Tories were just clinging on. “In Office but not in Power”, as Lamentable Lamont put it. And everyone knew liberation was around the corner.

Especially for my age group (26 at the time) who had been through the Thatcher era.

Me and most of my mates were lucky, but plenty of our age hadn't been. Never worked and marginalized. Parents had lost their homes or been made redundant at least once with all that goes with it. Especially up North.

How we hated Thatcher and her Party, and Oasis seemed to encapsulate that this dark period was lifting and that the Northern Young Male Working Class had not been beaten and was still there with aspiration and hedonism.

Then we were not in our leafy middle class Kirk Ella ghetto. We both had crap paid jobs and literally every penny mattered. Years of living in rented awfulness with bastard landlords who wouldn't fix even basic stuff. Six weeks with no shower. And at the mercy of some Rackmanite.

As a teacher I was driven by my hatred for the Tories and all they stood for. Low wage/high profit economy.

Keep people scared by unemployment, poor and addicted. Families ground down by it all. Partners turning on each other. Booze, domestic violence. All because of lack of money, opportunity and above all aspiration.

Meanwhile the consumer economy goes into overdrive. Aspire to this but you'll never get it you sad failures.

This album seemed like the antidote.Angry,loud,hopeful.

"Live Forever" says it all. What a belter.Great songs. Just so optimistic and simple.

” You can have it all if you want it".

The gig I went to in November 1995 at Earls Court was all I ever hoped from an event like this.15,000 a cracking system that meant you could have a loud but crisp sound. And a band on the cusp of greatness.

I've never known an audience to go so mental but then Noel played a four song acoustic set and had everyone rapt. You have to have some balls to do that and make it work. But the songs were the king.

What's the Story had just been released and was just as good as the debut.

For three albums ( if you count the Master plan) Oasis were the best band in the world and a symbol for the end of the Tory era and a new optimism epitomised by Tony Blair and the Labour Party. For the Many, Not the Few.

I though it was the best thing I'd heard recorded by a British band in my lifetime. Some good old rock and roll ("Some Might Say") allied to some well crafted song writing of maturity ("Cast No Shadow").Is it over familiarity but if I hear "Wonderwall" one more time...

Having said that there isn't a "weak" track. I like "She's Electric". Humorous. Shows a songwriter at ease with himself.

However the Beatles influence is obvious and later became a serious Achilles heel. Noël isn't the sharpest tool in the box and I reckon he's the sort of bloke who knows what he likes and hasn't got too many influences or much of an open mind .

"Hey Now" is the genesis of his fall. Too clever by half lyrics set to Beatley music. Contrived.

By contrast the debut "Definitely Maybe" is raw and unpretentious. Not trying to write for anyone else. Makes it a totally honest effort. And it has Oasis’ best ever song “Live Forever” (below).

But What’s the Story Morning Glory? gets my vote and is Number Nine on my (ever so interesting) Top Twenty Albums of All Time list.