Forty20 Magazine

Hello there

It occurred to me that I literally haven’t mentioned the rugby league magazine I continue to write in, for an absolute age.

I still do write for Forty20 magazine.  In fact, I’ve just written my latest article, and thought as I was writing it that it didn’t really need any knowledge of the sport to understand.  I then decided I’d show it to you here in private.  Just so you can see something else I do that ordinarily wouldn’t hold any sway on here. It usually wouldn’t be accessible to those not up to speed with Rugby League so I’m taking advantage of the anomaly.

I’ll also point out that since March 2020 I’ve refused payment for my articles.  I don’t say this so we can all kneel and praise me; I really wanted the magazine to withstand the barrage of uncertainty that came with the lockdowns etc and wanted to do my bit to lighten the load on them as a business.  They didn’t demand it, I did.  Because I am great, and we should all kneel and praise me for it.  Or at least ease my conscience in sneaking this unedited article onto here. Basically, I did this for free today (voluntarily), in the time I would be doing stuff for here.  So why not both?

I must stress again, lest I lose your eyes, that I genuinely think this article needs no actual knowledge of rugby league to understand, it’s intended as social commentary within the context of a sport, but I shall provide you with the following bits of context, just for clarity;

1.  The Rugby League World Cup is hosted here in the Autumn.  This is much the same as a football world cup but with a different sport on the field.  It was meant to be last year but was postponed due to safety pandemic concerns (the Australian team said they wouldn’t risk coming over, and they would be considered the best team).

2.  The culture secretary (sic) Nadine Dorries, further lowered her own bar of ineptitude and idiocy last week by attending a launch event for the World Cup, where she spoke about a drop goal in Rugby Union as though it were the same sport.  I do hold back from calling her a waste of skin in the article, but I am firm in that belief.  I do however mention Gary Glitter, which may end up on the floor of the sub-editor’s office…

3.  Kelvin Skerrett was a player for Wigan in the eighties, who very much employed a thug approach to the game.  A real cheap shot merchant, and always on smaller players.  That sort of thing. There’s a famous bit of commentary which often does the social media rounds, where the commentator calls him a “dirty get” and then shouts at the referee for being a “dick’ed” and a bottler in not sending Skerrett off.  Kelvin Skerrett did stuff like that pretty much every week.

That’s all you need to know.  Most of that gets explained in the article anyway.

I really should have asked them for permission to do this, eh? It’s 2am now though, and I’m honestly not the selling point of that magazine.  I fill a page and a half for them because I like them. It’ll also have a bit of a sub-edit on it I expect, although what I submit generally doesn’t get changed much. It’s usually just adding more context that I assume folk will know anyway. I’ll be watching the mention of Gary Glitter like a hawk though.  Which is what we should have been doing with the actual Gary Glitter ironically.

Article is below, I’m off to do some drawing now and definitely not have another coffee. I appear to have stupidly become the voluntary vessel for caffeine and propranolol to battle it out for influence on my blood pressure.

Hope all safe and well for you.

Lots of love to you from here

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I think I’m generally rather positive about Rugby League.

I don’t tend to join in with the mob whenever there are big ol’talking points doing the rounds.  I had no strong feelings when all the red cards and bans were being flung about, didn’t subscribe to the “game’s gone soft” mantra, certainly didn’t declare that Saints were untouchable and would go all season without a defeat (Seriously though, when will people learn to not make that daft declaration?), and keep my mouth shut on the performances of individual players.

The welcome re-emergence of the World Cup publicity machine of late has, however, raised my hackles a little.  Well, a lot. I’ve also been caning Bloody Mary’s all morning before sitting down to write this, so you’ll have to excuse any mistakes I make on the finer points.  Details aren’t important though, are they?

I’ve waited.  Honestly.  I’ve waited and waited.  I’ve watched the amazing team behind the World Cup get wheeled out for literally years now, feeling all the empathy a human being can feel for folk who have gone so far beyond the call of duty in delivering a ground-breaking tournament.  I’ve admired the grit and determination in them to stay positive, to stick with the excitement and promotion, despite hurdle after hurdle being thrown their way.  We must never forget, every one of these people should now be looking back on a brilliant tournament, and a job well done, rather than having to keep trying to enthuse a skint, fed up, and broken public.  Some of this was out of their hands, some of it was thrust upon them.

All were in agreement that the start of the 2022 season was glowing with positivity.  I’m not suggesting we all throw in the towel, but the scratches have started to show, and the gilded optimism no longer shines as bright. After a very strong start, the Channel 4 coverage has retreated somewhat, with erratic scheduling and an unsettled presenting team.  I’d hope I’m wrong, but it feels as though it’s been de-prioritised in favour of other things. Ten games are not a mega-commitment to ensure the familiarity of the same faces on screen.

That’s a side whine though.  Let’s get back to the World Cup.  The battered and beleaguered World Cup that needs all the love and support it can get after such a rough journey to this point.  That needs the respect it deserves.  As does the whole sport. Another quick Bloody Mary for me…

We get treated appallingly.  Not “in a way” or “from a certain point of view”, just in simple facts.  Really, really appallingly.  We are the shameful member of the sporting family, ostracised and dealt with without care or consideration.  An occasional photo opportunity if the crowd and coverage is big enough, but otherwise kicked away to fend for ourselves.

You know what I’m leading up to right?  I’m really not making a mountain out of a molehill here.  It’s not funny, and none of us should be distracted from our fury by tweets and memes making light of it.

The Secretary of State for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport, Nigella Dawson or whatever she’s called, spat in the faces of everyone involved in the World Cup. You’re meant to say the “Right Honourable”, but she was neither. Don’t dare think it was excusable.

She didn’t call Mal Meninga “Mark” or refer to Wakefield Trinity as the Wildcats.  She didn’t write “Saint Helens” rather than St Helens.  We’re used to those casual disregards and can collectively tut and move on.

Nope, Nigel Dorrid got the sport wrong.  At a promotional event for the World Cup.  A tournament that has literally the eyes of the world on it, and an organisation that has had every bit of hope continually postponed, had the State Secretary for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport  - let me emphasise those again in caps – DIGITAL, CULTURE, MEDIA & SPORT – insult and undermine its biggest UK event in history by getting the sport wrong.  Again, I know you know this already, and I know you’re cross about it too, but let me just shout that one more time.  THE SPORT WRONG.

Please don’t confuse this with Tory bashing.  I am more than happy to do that, but that’s not what this is. I once had a conversation with John Prescott at a TV recording, the week before the 2008 Saints Hull Challenge Cup final. I was excited to be discussing Rugby League with someone who knew what I was on about, in a TV studio in Hammersmith, but was soon utterly crestfallen as he told me he was going to attend it but didn’t know who was playing. So, I am painfully aware this spotlight hijacking occurs cross-party for every sport.

Why do we even let these people in the building?  We are a sport that came to be by standing up to this sort of thing.  How are we continually pandering to the ignorant stuffed suits like Nicola Dumbo? Can we not go back to being outlaws? Genuinely though? You’ve got Warrington getting jerseys printed for buffoons whose primary experience of any form or rugby involved flattening a child in front of press cameras, in one of the most weird and warped displays of machismo I’ve personally ever seen (and I saw Kelvin Skerrett play), and grinning, inept publicity seekers like Nadger Dorito getting the sport wrong.  Hang on, caps lock again, THE SPORT WRONG.

We can argue all day that all publicity is good publicity (although I’d counter argue that Gary Glitter might contest that), but we are continually treated like something to be scraped off their shoe. We deserve better than we are getting, and we aren’t going to get it.  Not from them.  I saw a promo for Sky Sports Summer highlights yesterday and we weren’t on it.  The other code was on it.

You’ll notice that they never mix them up the other way round.

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