Post Easter blues

Good evening everyone.

Well I suppose I should start by wishing everyone a belated Happy Easter which has come and passed since I last vented my spleen in a figurative sense around these parts. I hope you are all suitably full as a result of consuming plenty of Easter eggs over the holiday period. Sadly, I am now at an age where no-one seems to buy me them any more, hence I refrained from stuffing myself this year. A combination of the generally horrible weather and the stresses of the past week have given me the post-Easter blues, so I apologise if I'm in a particularly bad mood tonight.

As ever, there are a few things to discuss but I'll try and make it brief. Well, I suppose its quality that counts, not quantity. Here goes:

1. Legacy of Hillsborough is that it must never happen again
This past Wednesday marked the twentieth anniversary of the Hillsborough stadium disaster, one of English football's darkest ever days. On April 15 1989, 96 Liverpool supporters were killed after being crushed due to overcrowding in the Leppings Lane end of Sheffield Wednesday's Hillsborough ground just a few minutes into Liverpool's FA Cup semi-final clash against Nottingham Forest. Twenty years later and the grieving relatives of those that lost their lives that day still await justice in the form of an acceptance that South Yorkshire police take responsibility for the mass loss of life that fateful day.

This tragedy also has particular resonance for me because it is the first ever disaster I can really recall watching unfold on television. In April 1989, I was just over three months shy of my eleventh birthday and later that year I would be moving from primary school to secondary school. Remembering this timeline makes this recollection of the disaster all the more poignant because I can think of all the people who were at school with me 20 years ago who I would see in the playground the following Monday and the schoolchildren back then are now husbands, wives, mothers, fathers and in some cases are likely to have children not far off the age they would have been back then.

The youngest casualty of the disaster, who so happened to be current Liverpool captain Steven Gerrard's cousin, was 10 years old at the time. Had he have lived, what would he have achieved? Would he have been married by now? Might he have become a father? Would he have gone to university and forged a good career? Might he have been in Steven Gerrard's position and become a footballer for his boyhood team? Sadly these are questions that can never be answered.

Just as I imagine many people will have vivid memories of exactly where they were when JFK was assassinated by Lee Harvey Oswald on the greasy knoll in Dallas, or just as people will recall where they were when Princess Diana died, I can remember exactly where I was when the Hillsborough disaster occurred. I was in the very room from which I am writing this blog now, in the family home in Brighton. I no longer live here now, although my father still does, albeit I retain a computer here.

What is particularly striking is that it is the small details that I can particularly remember. I remember that I was alone in the room watching Grandstand when they went over to Hillsborough and cut to the pictures on the pitch. I was too young at the time to appreciate the enormity of what was happening, but I am pretty sure that even back then I realised I was watching people dying on television through my young eyes. The sight of the stricken being carried off on advertising hoardings used as makeshift stretchers is a haunting image that has stayed with me. I can remember the survivors being interviewed with bloodied foreheads and the sight of an ambulance being driven across the centre circle to treat the casualties. The same centre circle on which the match had kicked off just minutes earlier. In hindsight, I have wondered how watching such graphic atrocity unfold while watching television alone did not leave me traumatised or having nightmares in the aftermath, because I do not recall it affecting me in this way.

The twenty year anniversary of this horrific event also serves to remind everyone of how much the game of football has changed in the intervening two decades. Some of these changes have been for the worse with fans at the lower end of the wealth bracket sometimes priced out of the game, while corporate supporters have a day out at the football scoffing prawn sandwiches when previously they would have spent it on the golf course. The influx of corporate support and families may not be to everyone's liking, but the fact that they are going to football matches is a clear indication of how football's reputation has risen from the mire into the cash cow that is milked for all its worth that it is today. Inevitably, there will come a time when the game in this country will implode, but it is unlikely to ever fall into the dungeons of despair that it had reached by the end of the 1980s.

If the 1990s was the time of football's boom, thanks to Sky television's blanket coverage of the game and the new Premier League, then the 1980s saw English football's deepest depression. Hillsborough marked the culmination of a decade that brought the game to its knees in this country. In 1985, rioting by hooligan supporters tying themselves to Liverpool's colours resulted in 39 people dying prior to the European Cup final between Liverpool and Juventus. Just weeks earlier, a fire caused by a discarded cigarette caused tragedy at Bradford City's stadium. The season's worth of paper rubbish beneath the wooden seats gave the fire all the ignition it needed and within minutes the fire was fatally out of control. I remember seeing footage of this on a fire safety course a few months ago and it is astonishing just how quickly that fire spread resulting in the deaths that it caused.

The Conservative Government of the time, led by confessed football hater Margaret Thatcher saw football as an elephant in the room and pigeon-holed all of its supporters as worthy of the level of disdain that one normally reserves for chewing gum stuck to the bottom of their shoe. Around the time of the Hillsborough disaster, the Sports Minister of the time presided over the motion of cracking down on hooliganism by asking all football supporters to carry identity cards. Had this proposal ever seen the light of day, it would have given the Poll Tax a run for its money as the most unpopular policy of the Thatcher administration. Some of this disdain sadly had some justification due to the actions of a sadly significant minority, but if the aftermath of Hillsborough has achieved anything, it has certainly led to a change in attitudes among those that run the game.

The Hillsborough disaster was memorable for the dangerous perimeter fencing designed to keep supporters off the pitch. This was a measure brought in due to the rioting that was prevalent in the 1980s and unfortunately such fencing is still used in many other countries. The Taylor Report which reported on the disaster and introduced changes in its wake, requested that all seater stadiums be introduced and that terracing became a thing of the past.

This is a subject that polarises opinion among football supporters and I can understand why. There is no doubt that the atmosphere in an all-seater stadium can be funereal at times and being constrained by seats does not allow supporters to release the level of energy or passion they would if they could stand up and move around or go and stand in a "singing area" where the more vocal supporters could congregate and sing to their hearts content. There are those who advocate a "safe standing area" where those that wish to stand and sing can do so. In principle, I would not have a problem with this and when I go and watch a game in the non-leagues, I prefer to stand rather than sit. However, in practice there is the always the possibility that someone crosses the line of what would be termed "safe standing" and on that basis, I very much doubt you will see standing reintroduced in top flight football in England in the near future.

It seems that it often takes a disaster for the authorities to act responsibly and make the world a safer place. Take the railways for example, it was the tragic carnage of the Purley and Clapham Junction rail disasters that led to a mass review of safety on the tracks in this country. In recent times, railway travel has improved from a safety point of view, but it took these terrible tragedies to occur for progress to be made. Hillsborough proved to be a similar catalyst for safety in football stadia and the modern generation of top flight supporters can largely take their safety and comfort for granted when they go to a match on a Saturday afternoon, or indeed on any other day of the week that games are now played. This can be no consolation to the families of the bereaved, but nonetheless it is a legacy of this tragedy that people can take heart from.

For the families, they can never get any kind of closure until they receive justice. This justice is in the form of the South Yorkshire police force acknowledging blame for the disaster by opening gates into the overcrowded Leppings Lane stand and by following rules rather than responding to the reality of the situation facing them. It is also worth considering whether it would have been possible to have delayed the kick off of the match when the overcrowding issue became known.

Unfortunately for the families, I doubt they will receive the full apology they hope for. Police cover-ups are not unknown and they find it difficult to be accountable for blame where it is merited, as recent events in London may potentially demonstrate. The police force of that time have largely retired and I would expect if an unequivocal apology is ever forthcoming, it will be after the time that the people who needed to hear it most, the parents of the dead, have departed the scene.

In saying this, the footballing authorities need to take their share of the blame too. The ticketing arrangements needed to be better and it was crazy that the team with the greater number of supporters in Liverpool were allocated the stand with the smaller capacity. This was all the more shocking considering that there was a "near miss" at the same end of the same ground for a cup semi-final between Tottenham and Wolves some eight years earlier, where the larger contingent of Spurs supporters were crammed in like sardines in the Leppings Lane end.

In organisational terms, the football authorities have improved since 1989, albeit they are not perfect. But everyone involved in football in this country, be they administrators, players or supporters must not get complacent. The game has come a long way in two decades and it is to the credit of everyone concerned that families can go to the game now and enjoy a match, whatever some traditionalists' misgivings of the changes to demographics of the football supporter are. But this anniversary is a timely reminder that such atrocity must never happen again because the sheer notion that a dad and his child can go to a game on a Saturday afternoon and never make it home for their dinner is sickening to consider. I wish the families of the ninety-six supporters who lost their lives that wretched day all the best in their sustained quest for justice.

2. Apathy is the national dish
So are you all feeling patriotic? Have you fixed the cross of St George to your window sash? I only ask as next Thursday marks St George's Day, the day when people residing everywhere south of Hadrian's Wall, everywhere east of the Severn Bridge and everywhere north of the Channel should be coming together and celebrating this green and pleasant land. And yet for all that, we don't really do St George's Day justice in this country, do we?

Maybe it is because people are aware that their national patron saint is in fact about as English as Greg Rusedski, but I doubt that is the main reason. There is much debate about where St George is actually from, but popular belief has it that his origins were in ancient Rome. The plainer truth as to why St George's Day is not widely celebrated is that it is that very English trait, the classic English reserve that gets in the way. People often complain that we do not celebrate being English enough, until when it comes to the crunch, we are all as guilty as the next person of not really identifying what that Englishness is or caring what it is.

There are other factors at work too. Far right groups such as the BNP and skinhead groups have bloodied the flag of St George with their imperialist, partisan beliefs which have made national pride and celebration regarded as distasteful in some circles and so people distance themselves from being English. And yet, who elected this minority as being representative of the population anyway? The majority of English people who are proud of their country but do not resort to bigotry or partisanship need to be wrestling the flag from those who have so bloodied it. The ever controversial subject of political correctness rears its ugly head too, although its arrival cannot be entirely unlinked to the previous outbreak of jingoism.

At the other end of the scale, back in the 1990s, John Major showed once again how politicians have an uncanny knack of being out of step with the time by saying what his notion of Britain was. Major's idea of modern Britain was just about recognisable to a modern audience but only if they studied Charles Dickens for their A-levels. Major spoke of village cricket, the smell of cut grass, warm beer and vicars riding bicycles. Major's logic was not all flawed in that it is the simple pleasures in life that English people particularly indulge in and enjoy, but the picture he painted of modern Britain was terribly quaint and outdated, if indeed that Britain ever did exist.

St George's Day can never expect to be like St Patrick's Day is in Ireland and nor should it have any aspirations to. Quite apart from the fact that the Irish have an entirely different national psyche to the English and are generally more extrovert, March 17 is largely a commercial operation with a certain stout company that was founded in 1759 near Dublin and which rhymes with Binnis putting its name to various items of head attire worn by Irishmen of birth right and Irishmen of spirit (or spirits) packed into the theme bar.

And yet, there are things we can learn from St Patrick's Day even if we do not adopt the same template, if only we could change our attitudes. Real ale is the British alcoholic poison and so pubs up and down the land should be promoting the local ale on 23 April. Is it really so far fetched to think of the people of Brighton drinking Harvey's from when they knock off work through to last orders? In fact, the pub is a staple of the English culture so it should be the backdrop to celebrating the national day.

If you asked 100 English people to name English cuisine on a Family Fortunes revival, Les Dennis might well be forced to empty his pockets if a contestant suggested pizza, Chicken Tikka Masala or Spaghetti Bolognese, such is the common person's ambivalence towards homegrown cuisine. And yet, England does have cuisine with an appeal of its own and if you were to sum up what was English food, pub grub would be top of the list. So just as Irish bars offer up Irish stew on March 17, April 23 should celebrate scampi and chips and steak and kidney pie and the greasy spoon cafes of the country should celebrate the good old fry-up. And because we are English, brown sauce will be compulsory.

For those that are teetotal or for those that are not gastronomes, the celebration of what is English could surely be extended. This is a country of rich heritage. It has produced some of the finest music the world has ever heard. It has a rich history of low budget cinema. Some of the great innovators and scientists were English. Throughout England, there is an expanse of beautiful countryside and wildlife. All of these aspects of English life can be celebrated with special events on 23 April to attract those that identify with this part of being English.

I am sure that some of these ideas I have mentioned will come to fruition on Thursday, but that won't stop people complaining that celebrating being English is not widespread, while at the same time doing little to celebrate themselves unless of course they feel that participating in that favourite English pastime of having a good moan is an adequate way of marking the occasion.

There are those that suggest making St George's Day a bank holiday in order to encourage people to celebrate it more. I have my doubts about how realistic this strategy would be. The calendar in England is already top heavy in spring with regards to bank holidays with Good Friday, Easter Monday, May Day and Spring Bank Holiday all falling within a couple of months of each other. In contrast, there are no bank holidays at all in the four months between the August Bank Holiday and Christmas Day. It would make sense to mark the Remembrance Day commemorations with a Bank Holiday which falls during the intervening period to remember those that sacrificed themselves for their country. But apart from logistical angle, I think making St George's Day a bank holiday would largely see it treated by people in the same way that any other bank holiday is marked. If the weather is good, a day at the theme park or the car boot sale. If the weather is bad, stay at home and watch DVDs from under the duvet.

We have to acknowledge that the main problem in getting people to be more patriotic and celebrate St George's Day more is to remove people from the shackles of apathy that plagues the nation. This apathy is particularly prevalent during times of economic depression as the media whips up a frenzy of doom and gloom and actively encourages a country of negativity and self-pity. Until such insularity and apathy is conquered, and that certainly will not happen in the short term, we are going to have to accept that St George's Day is going to be day that does not register on many of the natives' levels of consciousness. Each of us can in our own way change this by doing some small things, but it is a collective responsibility to change our state of mind rather than the fault of bureaucracy or political correctness. But changing that state mind just wouldn't be, well, very English would it?

3. Cabinet roadshows a waste of time and money
I wonder how many Glaswegians had a warm glow in their hearts this past week in the knowledge that Gordon Brown and his cabinet would be arriving in the city in order to convene the latest monthly cabinet meeting.

Since Gordon Brown became Prime Minister in June 2007, the cabinet roadshow has been something of a brainchild of his and in recent months, the red carpet has been laid out for the PM and such luminaries as Ed Balls, Jacqui Smith and David Milliband at most of Britain's premier cities and Southampton for them to discuss the key issues of the day.

Yet, at a time when saving money is of paramount importance, surely these beanies are an extravagant waste of time and resource. Quite apart from the not insignificant policing and security bills that will be incurred in order for these roadshows to be hosted, consider also the amount of money that will be going on cabinet ministers' expense claims for their travel and their hotel stay. And that does not include any additional costs incurred for a minister's husband accessing a channel above 900 on the hotel television late on a Saturday night while the wife is discussing prison reforms in an adjacent room. Just as long as he paid for his own tissues!

In an age of high technological capability, why is there a need for extravagant day trips? If it is felt that meeting once a month in Westminster is problematic (which would be surprising given where the House of Commons is), why can't the cabinet have a video or telephone conference? At least that way, it will not involve sitting in a stuffy room and falling asleep when Alistair Darling speaks. Without wishing to sound like a ranting Talksport or LBC disc jockey who permanently have a moral compass fixed to their breast pocket, at a time when funds are tight and the country is in the grips of recession, there simply is no justification for such a blatant waste of Government resource.

4. Dyas needs to know what it is
In the latest round of recession blues, Robert Dyas finds itself in the soup with store closures and a buyout looking like a necessity. This seems to be a store that a lot of male shoppers have some kind of affinity for in that it is the Nuts of High Street stores. It sells male orientated products that can show off the male macho tendencies.

At least, that was the Robert Dyas that people remember. The perception and the reality would appear to be some way apart. Much like Woolworth's, this is a shop that people are remembering for its nostalgia but have probably avoided shopping in for several years. In these days of B&Q and Homebase superstores that have car parks enabling heavy goods to be readily deposited in the boot, the challenge Dyas has is that people are going to out of town stores where they can fill up the car.

The other issue is that Robert Dyas has something of a perception problem. It describes itself as an ironmonger but really its boundaries are stretched far beyond those confines. The last time I went into Robert Dyas, I can remember encountering everything from watering cans, saucepans, oven gloves and shelf brackets right through to cook books. If you were to ask the directors of Robert Dyas who their core customers are and what their core product is, I think there would be a shortage of clarity around the answer to both questions.

Because there has been extensive diversification in the types of product that Robert Dyas sell within its stores, the importance of having a good store layout is crucial to satisfying the customer. The last time I visited my local Robert Dyas, the layout was shoddy and it took me several minutes to find the item I was looking for. It was also noticeable just how quiet the shop was when I visited. Its stores are by no means small, but yet the layout can appear cramped and inadequately labelled.

We live in times when not only can the type of goods that Dyas sell are able to be bought in out-of-town superstores, but they can also be ordered online. Amazon has even ventured into the market of house and garden related goods. Purchasing hardware online and getting it delivered is a more convenient option in people's busy schedules and there is no doubt that Robert Dyas has been affected adversely in this way.

Just as Woolworth's did not move with the times and have an online presence and come up with viable competition to the clicks and mortar powerhouses, so Robert Dyas has stuck to its traditional model and believed that people will keep shopping with them because of their long standing name and reputation. The reality is now starting to set in and while nostalgia is clouding people's memories, subsconsciously there is a reason why these shoppers have stayed away all this time. Robert Dyas has a niche audience and it is no longer meeting mainstream customers needs because it has just become a pick and mix of the house and garden product. Its target market are older people but they fled to B&Q (in some cases to don the B&Q apron) some time ago. Against this, it really is not hard to see why Robert Dyas is in the doldrums.