Avi Cohen was killed in a road accident. Hell of a nice guy. I used to go to the synagogue to see the birds & arrange the 'meet' for ER. Everything was so different then. Not the age of innocence. If anything that is now where everyone seems so bloody naive. Then we knew not expect 'owt but trouble'. We were rarely disappointed. It was what you saw is what you get. We weren't pretending, playing at being silly buggers and certainly not all feely touchy maudlin. When people died or tragedies happened the Bobbies went out to get the baddies & didn't make speeches alongside a 'friend of the family'. No yellow teddies and no flowers strewn all over the place. No shin guards & bloody hard tackles. Goalies were hunted down in their areas with the deadliness of a u-boat. In fact the fuckers had to bounce the ball every three paces. And no one spoke to the ref never mind theatrical chimpanzee antics. That gormless aggravating L'Pool jessy wouldn't have lasted ten minutes. Now. I understand they go to synagogue to pray or whatever they call that imitation of a frenzied penguin that our wannabe yids do these days. I think that I am getting old. I'll close by saying that Bates is an and out c%nt.
Dr Michael Benjamin, Community Psychiatrist ------------------------------- myRay: On-line Self-Help CBT http://www.myRay.com http://www.myRay.org ------------------------------ Mental Health: http//www.MyDoctorExplains.com -------------------------------- Auditing || Quality Control http://www.MyDoctorExplains.com/alamo/ -------------------------------- Blog: http://www.DrMichaelBenjamin.com On 16 November 2012 14:03, Richard Naef <[email protected]>wrote: > http://bit.ly/T64uD9 > > > Arsenal vs Spurs: Should the North London Derby Be a Jewish Holiday? > by Anthony Clavane > 16 November 2012 1 Comment > When Arsenal take on Spurs this Saturday, hordes of Jewish fans will break > their sabbath to worship at the altar of football. Anthony Clavane, author > of Does Your Rabbi Know You're Here: The Story of English Football's > Forgotten Tribe gets that guilty pleasure... > > > When Arsenal take on Spurs this Saturday, hordes of Jewish fans will break > their sabbath to worship at the altar of football. Anthony Clavane, author > of Does Your Rabbi Know You’re Here: The Story of English Football’s > Forgotten Tribe gets that guilty pleasure… > At the end of the 1970s, the Jewish Chronicle rang Bob Paisley to enquire > whether his new signing, Avi Cohen, was orthodox. “Orthodox what?” the > Liverpool boss replied. “Orthodox midfielder? Orthodox defender?” If Avi > was > an orthodox Jew, the journalist explained, he couldn’t play on a Saturday. > “But I’ve got half a dozen like that already,” quipped Paisley. > The Israeli defender was so unorthodox he actually turned out for Liverpool > on Yom Kippur – to the great horror of his country’s media. Some Israeli > writers even invoked the concept of divine retribution to explain the goal > he gifted Southampton on the Day of Atonement with his badly-misjudged > backpass. I have always felt bad about watching football on that day. In > fact, despite not being religious, I still suffer slight pangs of guilt > watching football on a Saturday. As my old headmaster once explained to me, > Saturday is the Day of Rest, not the Day of the Match. > But maybe that’s part of the attraction. Like eating bacon, or sleeping > with > a Gentile, it’s a deliciously illicit activity. And, like driving to the > synagogue on Shabbat, we all do it – but don’t like to talk about it. “It > is > virtually impossible in Britain,” David Baddiel once wrote, “to be Jewish > and male and not interested in football.” > It didn’t matter if it was winter or summer – shabbas stopped at three > O’Clock because they went to the match at Elland Road > Jews have been kicking balls around ever since Norwood Jews Orphanage > thrashed Endearment 11-1 in January 1901, one of the first ever matches > played in the Sunday Football League – a competition set up by the Jewish > Athletic Association to increase interest in the game. And they have been > following football, with a rare fervour, ever since thousands of Yiddisher > boys caught the train from Whitechapel to White Hart Lane, to be greeted > with the refrain: “Does your rabbi know you’re here?” > Two recent fascinating books about Manchester City, for example, were > written by Jewish fans of the club: Colin Shindler and David Conn. For > Shindler, the Blues were “a broad church, an open synagogue. Nobody cared > what you did on Saturday morning if you were at Maine Road on Saturday > afternoon.” The Jewish TV dramatist Jack Rosenthal frequently introduced > football themes into his work. I remember, as a boy, being enthralled by > his > sitcom The Dustbinmen, whose central character was a Colin Bell nut. In one > memorable episode, unable to get into the then-City ground at Maine Road, > he > gave a running commentary of the match to his gang whilst sitting on a wall > outside; from the crowd noises he was able to identify players, free-kicks, > corners and, of course, goals. > “Does your rabbi know you’re here?” used to be a song Spurs fans were > taunted with. I even heard it aimed at Leeds supporters when I was growing > up in the city. My rabbi certainly knew I was at Elland Road. Occasionally, > at a midweek game, we would bump into each other in the car park. As a > schoolfriend, who eventually became a cantor at one of the Leeds > synagogues, > said: “Our generation went to shul, came home, had a nice meal, and then – > it didn’t matter if it was winter or summer – shabbas stopped at three > O’Clock because they went to the match at Elland Road. It was that special > day in the week. Maybe the fact that they went to Elland Road was part of > the shabbas as well, as far as they were concerned.” > It could be argued that Arsenal have embraced the Jewish connection more > enthusiastically than their rivals > In the Gentile mind, there is only one Jewish club of course. It is > Tottenham Hotspur, not City, Leeds or even Arsenal, who are identified with > yamulkahs, salt beef sandwiches and the Star of David. In the 1930s, > according to a Manchester Guardian report, Jews made up a third of the > average crowd at White Hart Lane – equal to about 11,000 supporters > regularly attending. At a 1934 north London derby the Daily Express’s > Trevor > Wignall discovered he “was nearly entirely surrounded by them…the majority > of my neighbours were partisans of the Spurs. They were vociferous to a > degree but they were good losers in that they agreed that their team was > outplayed.” But why did so many East End Jews support the club? They were, > after all, closer to West Ham. The simple reason is that the public > transport network made access to the stadium from the east and centre of > London relatively easy; no other ground in Londonwas as easy to get to. For > secular Jews who were happy to travel by train, the Stoke Newington and > Edmonton Railway from Liverpool Street, near Spitalfields, allowed them to > observe their new shabbat ritual of cheering on The Spurs. > Since the Second World War, most London Jews have lived in north London. It > could be argued that Arsenal have embraced the Jewish connection more > enthusiastically than their rivals. In 1965, for example, they moved > forward > a league match against Northampton Town, and delayed their original kick > off > time by over an hour, to avoid a clash with Yom Kippur.” By 1951, when > Hapoel Tel-Aviv toured Britain, the club’s fan-base had grown considerably. > Of the Israeli side’s three matches – against Manchester United, Rangers > and > Arsenal – it was the one at Highbury which created the most excitement. In > his programme notes, Arsenal manager Tom Whittaker highlighted the “good > relations between the Jewish and non-Jewish supporters of the club”. > Over the years, as the Jewish community has become increasingly secular and > integrated, football has become – in some ways – its new religion. I’m not > saying that Jews are more passionate than non-Jews. But, in Does Your Rabbi > Know You’re Here?, I argue that our obsession with the game is all about > belonging. My great-uncle Louis Saipe, the Leeds Jewish community’s > unofficial historian, once wrote: “I am proud and happy that I am a Jew, > and > even prouder and happier that I am an English Jew from Leeds.” I have lived > in exile down south for many years now but every time I come back to the > capital of God’s own country I think about this sentence. All three things > – > my Leedsness, my Jewishness and my Englishness – have interacted to form my > identity. And all three came together in the form of Don Revie’s great > Leeds > side. When I first stood on the Elland Road Kop, I was aware of belonging > to > a minority culture, but that didn’t seem to matter. On the contrary, as a > teenager, being Jewish and a football fan amounted to the same thing. > Either > way, Saturday remained the most important day of the week. It still is > > > > ttfn > > Richard > > Please support my fundraising for African Revival - I'll be cycling through > Uganda in February. > http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/RichardNaef > > > > > > > _______________________________________________ > Leedslist mailing list > Info and options: > http://mailman.greennet.org.uk/mailman/listinfo/leedslist > To unsubscribe, email [email protected] > > PETE CASS (1962 - 2011) Rest In Peace Mate > > _______________________________________________ Leedslist mailing list Info and options: http://mailman.greennet.org.uk/mailman/listinfo/leedslist To unsubscribe, email [email protected] PETE CASS (1962 - 2011) Rest In Peace Mate
