Dial M for Merthyr

1912 revisited

2011-05-31T18:15:00.001+01:00

LIFE IN THE SOUTHERN LEAGUE SECOND DIVISION DURING SEASON 1911-1912

The season 1911-12 was certainly a successful one for Merthyr Town as they finished champions of the Southern League Second Division. This was no mean feat as, over the course of the season, they had to contest local derbies with Cardiff City, Pontypridd, Ton Pentre, Treharris, Aberdare, Mardy and Cwm Albion. The biggest ‘name’ in the division was, current Premiership side, Portsmouth, who had been relegated from the Southern League First Division at the end of the previous campaign. Not surprisingly, the south coast club were hardly enthusiastic about the number of visits which they would have to make to the South Wales Valleys.

In an attempt to avoid travelling to the Valleys in the winter months, new Pompey Manager, Bob Brown, shrewdly arranged the bulk of his Club’s away fixtures for the first half of the season. Even so, the facilities and pitches at many of the South Wales grounds could, at best, be described as basic. What follows is the views, comments and experiences of a Portsmouth Evening News reporter of a number of Welsh teams and journeys to Wales.

Portsmouth’s first trip to Wales came on September 9th 1911 with the away fixture at Treharris. On disembarking at a remote railway station, several of the of the Pompey squad thought that they had arrived in a foreign land. If the team felt this was bad, their spirits fell even further when they saw the Treharris ground. This was described by the reporter as being:

“.... a semi-bog in a hollow and lumpy with it.”

When the match got underway, our reporter felt that :

“Treharris played an utterly unorthodox and primitive type of football.”

Nevertheless, primitive football or not, Treharris ran out winners by 2 goals to 1.

Pompey’s next away trip was a journey to the Rhondda to face Ton Pentre. Once again, the reporter was less then impressed stating:

“The ground is quite miniature and as rough as it is small. When you
stand between the goal it seems anyone with a long arm could touch
the corner flag. The playing surface is covered with coal dust.”

This time Portsmouth managed to overcome the conditions and won the match by a goal to nil.

Another fixture which Pompey had to fulfil was Cwm Albion away. At this ground, conditions were even more basic, as our reporter relates:

“A guide was employed and led us to an unenclosed ground ......
across two fields ankle deep in mud. The dressing room was a
disused cow shed although the home team changed in the village. I
I was then shown a broken wooden box marked PRESS from
which to write my report. The game was watched by a few hundred
people, most of them safely beyond the reach of the collecting box,
on the slopes of the hill surrounding the ground.”

Bad as the conditions were, they did not stop the south coast club from thrashing Cwm 6-1. Just as fortunate was the fact that Pompey did not incur the wrath of the Cwm fans, a section of which, after one match, chased after an unpopular referee threatening to throw him in the river. The official was forced to take refuge in a house until a police escort arrived to take him to the railway station!

The last Welsh away trip which Pompey had to make in the first half of the season was to Pontypridd. The reporter was equally as scathing of the facilities here stating:

“Almost unbeatable at home, they had a cinder track running through
The centre of the pitch from goal to goal. The stirring song ‘Land Of
My Fathers was sung throughout the game and Pompey lost 3-1.”

This fixture marked the end of Pompey’s visits to the Welsh Valleys until March 23rd 1912. On this occasion they faced the journey to the top of the Rhondda to face Mardy. This trip proved to be their most difficult and expensive of the whole campaign. Portsmouth had to make the journey at the time of a miners’ strike. They set off on the Friday evening but only got as far as Reading when their train ran out of coal. Consequently the team was forced to stay overnight in Berkshire. The following day, few trains were running due to the effects of the strike and Pompey finally arrived in Mardy an hour after the published kick-off time. However, by the time the game had ended (Portsmouth won 4-2), trains had stopped running for the night in the Rhondda. This meant Pompey had to hire cars in order to get them to their railway connection in Cardiff. In all, their ‘away-day’ to Wales had cost the club £40!

Many of the Welsh clubs were just as disorganised when they visited Portsmouth. Early in the season, Aberdare had difficulty in getting a team together and hardly any of their spectators made the journey to the south coast to witness their team go down by 4 goals to nil. Portsmouth secured promotion by beating Treharris 5-1 at Fratton Park. At this time Treharris were so short of money that they had to borrow £5 from Pompey in order to enable them to return home to Wales. At the time, Portsmouth probably felt that it was money well spent as at least they would be spared from similar fixtures the following season.

The effects of the miners’ strike had placed many Welsh clubs in a very difficult financial position by the end of the season. Indeed, due to the cost of travel, Treharris refused to play at Kettering unless the League helped with their travel costs, while Cwm Albion were forced to drop out of the League shortly before the end of the season.

What the Portsmouth Evening News reporter failed to mention in his article was the much better facilities and support enjoyed by Merthyr Town. The team played at Penydarren Park, which at the time, boasted a pitch surrounded by a running track along with a covered stand and enclosure. In addition, although Merthyr Town had only been formed as recently as 1908, their support was numbered in thousands and was drawn from all sections of the local community. On 23rd September 1911, Pompey visited Penydarren Park and a crowd of around 5,000 saw them run out winners by 2 goals to 1. On 30th December, the Merthyr team, accompanied by around 500 supporters travelled to the south coast for the return fixture. Although missing four first team regulars, the Town team held their full-strength opponents to a 1-1 draw. The Merthyr Express reporter at the game felt that:

“The game was certainly the most exciting played on the Portsmouth
ground for many a long day. ...... Merthyr, for all their reserves,
Made a great impression, They deserved their point for their pluck,
And Savage’s goal was certainly a beauty.”

At the end of the season, this point proved to be crucial as Merthyr Town piped Portsmouth to the title on goal average!

SOUTHERN LEAGUE SECOND DIVISION 1911-12

TEAM P W L D F A PTS

MERTHYR TOWN 26 19 4 3 60 14 41
PORTSMOUTH 26 19 4 3 73 20 41
CARDIFF CITY 26 15 7 4 55 26 34
SOUTHEND UNITED 26 16 9 1 73 24 33
PONTYPRIDD 26 13 7 6 39 24 32
TON PENTRE 26 12 11 3 56 45 27
WALSALL 25 13 11 1 44 41 27
TREHARRIS 26 11 10 5 44 47 27
ABERDARE 26 10 13 3 39 44 23
KETTERING 26 11 15 0 37 62 22
MARDY 24 6 12 6 37 51 18
CROYDON COMMON 25 8 15 2 43 45 18
CWM ALBION 22 5 16 1 27 70 11
CHESHAM TOWN 26 1 25 0 18 131 2

SOURCES OF INFORMATION

Issue One revisited

2011-05-31T17:32:00.003+01:00

http://ffwtbol.co.uk/2010/11/29/fanzines-revisited-dial-m-for-merthyr-issue-one/

Spirit of '58 T-shirts

2010-12-01T23:09:00.002Z

Moses Russell

2010-11-22T23:22:00.000Z

Fred Keenor book review

2010-11-06T10:59:00.003Z

Fred Keenor - The man who never gave up

James Leighton

The Fred Keenor statue campaign is quite rightly high on the agenda at Cardiff City at the moment, the fundraising for an iconic landmark to celebrate one of the city’s favourite sons has started - the latest boost a release of a CD of the song “I’ll be there” by The Stand which no doubt you will all have bought via one avenue or another.

An opportune moment then to release a biography on Keenor but can James Leighton do the story justice? The majority of Cardiff City fans will know the story of the Cup Finals of 1925 and of course 1927, coupled with the loss of the League Title on goal average but what about the man who led the Bluebirds though those amazing times? Will the publication Fred Keenor - the Man Who Never Gave up” provide the content to provide an insight into the man who lifted the FA Cup on 23rd April 1927 at Wembley Stadium?

It’s a difficult task in itself as the story of that era has been debated over the decades by football fans throughout South Wales. For me, the author has managed to provide a much welcomed insight into not just the player but also the times that surrounded the sport of professional football in those fledgling years for Cardiff City FC.

The early years of the Club are covered including the signing of Fred Keenor from local football, the pre-war seasons are a struggle for the young Cardiff man who already shows great determination to succeed at his hometown arena. The outbreak of the Great War arrives and Fred signs up for the Middlesex Regiment alongside many other famous football players of the age, the story of the regiment is told in much more depth in the book When the Whistle Blows but James Leighton skilfully steers the reader through the horrors of the conflict culminating in Fred being wounded at the Battle of the Somme. It’s a story that needs to be read by the modern football supporter. At the end of the war Fred Keenor regains his fitness and succeeds in forging a place in the Cardiff City team.

James Leighton continues the story season by season and the style of writing works for me as the publications of the day are used to bring a more human element to the stark statistics of a football campaign.

The book is complemented by some excellent photographs of Fred Keenor, many of which would be new to the reader and deserve a wider audience.

There is an iconic photograph of Fred Keenor and the FA Cup at Penydarren Park just five days after the Cup Final for a friendly match against Merthyr Town. The result? A 1-0 win for the hosts.
　

The final chapters of the publication after Fred Keenor’s retirement from Ninian Park, although brief, cover his time at Tunbridge Wells and then return to his home city. It’s a tough end to a sporting life serving both club and country to the highest honours but it’s sympathetically told by the author.

Fred Keenor - The Man Who Never Gave Up should be a must-buy for anyone who truly believes that professional football has provided the sporting heartbeat for generations in South Wales.

　

Wanted : One Flag

2010-09-11T21:41:00.002+01:00

Dial M For Merthyr is sad to announce that the infamous MERTHYR TYDFIL GODS COUNTRY flag was lost prior to the Montenegro v Wales in Podgorica on 3rd September.

A substantial reward of no particular value is offered for information leading to the recovery of the Merthyr Town FC heirloom.

Please help reunite this artefact with its guardian Mr. Moppy. All information will be treated in confidence and forgotten very quickly.

We thank you for your co-operation in bringing our flag back to it's spiritual home.

Legend opens Tea Bar

2010-04-10T20:08:00.002+01:00

Phil Howells writes ...

2010-02-26T23:47:00.001Z

THE TIMES THEY ARE A'CHANGING or HOW CAN A POOR MAN STAND SUCH TIMES AND LIVE?

The ramblings of former journalist, former civil servant and playboy PHIL HOWELLS, who wishes to remain anonymous.

ANOTHER Day In Paradise or Dead And Gone? The former a hit for Phil Collins (did anybody like him?) and the latter an entrant in the US Billboard charts before its official release by someone called TI (I never heard of it or him either).

Well, those ditties could sum up Merthyr Tydfil Football Club over the 20 years since Dial M For Merthyr first came into the world, brash and informative, full of forthright opinions and criticisms but never libellous ( I hope).

Martyrs fans were always looking to a glorious future although the vision seemed more than just rose-tinted but this year the club could have been Dead and Gone!

As it is, we face a long battle to achieve security but there is a definite pulse there. We hope that progress can be made just as Dial M matured over the years and became a must buy to add to all the other costs of supporting our beloved club.

Football culture has absorbed music, fashion and drink in recent years just as a beer mat has soaked up a spilt pint of Allbright. When I took my first footsteps into the hallowed Penydarren Park , there was no Jubilee Club, Strikers, Candac Suite or even the Rhys Tavern. Post-match saw me heading for a local cafe for a sandwich and a cup of coffee before taking in the latest cinematographic offering at The Castle Cinema or Theatre Royal. Well, I was under 18 at the time!

Pop music was just being born (on easily breakable 78 rpm records) with Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly, Jackie Wilson, Bobby Darin and Conway Twitty (the latter memorably mentioned by Mrs Warboys in a One Foot In The Grave episode). These artistes provided an antidote to such earlier offerings as How Much Is That Doggie In The Window by
Patti Page and Cry by Johnny Ray, who was deaf! This was before Def Leppard began to prowl!

You can still visit some non-league football grounds where they churn out the 1960s hits for pre-match entertainment as they have been doing since the 1960s.

At PP the disc jockey (are they still called that?) usually moved with the times. And at Strikers or the Candac Suite, in an attempt to still try and be trendy (do they use that word now?) I have enthused over such groups as The Killers (led by Mormon Brandon Flowers) when really I would be looking for Cortzez The Killer (nothing to do with Cortez Belle) by Neil Young.

In fairness, a female friend did select a Bob Dylan track for me in Strikers a few years ago. Bob is my hero! Some folk care about my musical tastes!

During Dial M's journey through life, the football trips have also kept pace with the changing music scene. When I was travelling on the team bus and writing the match reports for the Echo etc, in Lyn Jones' days, Andy Beattie would enthuse about his favourite blues singers. I don't think the fans have often been heard singing on trips although Wolvesy and Co seemed to be fond of The Fields of Athenry.

It's a classic Irish song. I was with my brothers a few years ago to see The Dubliners (one of many times) in Brecon. Chatting to Paddy Reilly (vocalist on Fields) and Eamonn Campbell before and after the show, we bought them a round or two. Sadly, before they could reciprocate, they had to return to their hotel! Four Green Fields or parched concert-goers?

Having been banned from the youth club, as being over age, even I have had to be aware of the disappearing years and I think my Saturday nights trawling the town hotspots have gone. I am usually to be found in a quieter establishment and back to drinking pints instead of all those bottled drinks which began to be in vogue a while back which meant you spent more money but drank less as far as volume was concerned.

All the fans loved Strikers so much that by about 7.30pm on a match day, dozens of us would depart for Town! Zone or Chambers, (whatever it was called) was first on the list because of the Happy Hour when folk would leave the bar clutching as many bottles of Bud as they could carry! You had to move around to avoid getting your feet stuck to the floor.

The Vulcan, with the latest House, Garage, Old School, New Wave or whatever the music was, would be on the schedule as well as such hostelries as Pitmans (Miners' Arms), where you would get your hand stamped as you went in, The Belle Vue, where they have always had a good jukebox, and Castle Hotel, where sometimes Cakey would be playing the music.

Then afterwards any ladies with us would demand that we hailed a taxi to travel the couple of hundred yards to The Three Horseshoes. We were never allowed to walk!

The bolder folk would end up in Koolers (at times known as Einsteins or The Kirkhouse as I think it is now titled again).

Then a dash for taxis home and dreams of the next game at PP, another day in paradise.

In fact, for several seasons the football was of secondary importance on a Saturday. Some supporters would not even bother to watch the game but would arrive in Strikers as The League of Wales results started to flash up on BBC Wales.

The gang bound for town has shrunk in numbers, the pubs have changed , Bryan Adams has been toppled off the top of the charts, but Dial M For Merthyr is still a part of Merthyr's football culture.

Whatever happened to Don't Call Me Butt?..........

Dial M For Merthyr - then and now

2010-02-26T23:44:00.000Z

1989 Dial M for Merthyr

Curtain Hair.

Flared C17 Jeans

Polo by Ralph Lauren after shave (even though we didn't shave ;-)

Away in the car (an escort)

Being skinny

Wales away in Germany (pack your head bag mun!)

Swansea in the cup

The Weegies down for a game of football

The Stone Roses

Egg fried rice from Jen Chang, bottom of town

Brecon Road wars

Armani t-shirt

Beanie hats

The film Platoon

Word of mouth

Drinking in the Belle and onto Koolers

Spain with the lads

ZX Spectrum

A tattered copy of Catcher in the Rye

Dance music all night long

YSL brown chord jacket

Being young

Adidad Gazelle trainies...

2009 Dial M for Merthyr

Greying hair

Diesel jeans

Mortgages

Kasabian

Penguin polo tops

Waltzing with Bashir

The internet

Getting chunky

Drinking in the Anchor

France with the wife

Wine bars in Soho

A red label Levi coat

Mac Book

Galette with Langoustine Veloute from the Ivy

Glasvegas

A pristine copy of The White Tiger

Adidas Gazelles...It's good to know some things will never change..;-)

Wales at Penydarren Park

2010-01-24T20:53:00.001Z

The FAW Amateur XI that beat Oxford University 3-2 at Penydarren Park on 5th February 1949.

2010-01-18T21:52:00.001Z

The Welsh Schoolboys team that played at Penydarren Park against England on 19th April 1913 unfortunately we lost 4-0 in the match.

2010-01-13T20:17:00.001Z

The Big Freeze of 2010?

So another day with snow, another day off for the kids, and continued coverage on both radio and television as to the effects of the current arctic conditions for South Wales. It’s certainly affecting the Martyrs, we haven’t played a match since 12th December and we’re unlikely to do so until 23rd January for the visit of Chippenham, but how has snow and ice affected the club in previous years?

I spent a few hours researching the “big freeze” of 1963 and how we coped in days of yore with frozen pitches? I’m sure older readers will have some memories to share too.

It seems the cold weather hit the UK and South Wales in particular on the evenings of 28th-30th December and the Lilywhites were only just able to complete their 1962 fixtures with a 4-1 defeat at Rugby on the final day of December. A match played on two inches of snow, cleared lines and sanded goalmouths. A match remembered for the great performance by goalkeeper John Clarke who prevented a rout with some inspired saves.

The Club chose this time to launch its new Heads of the Valleys Bingo Club as a fundraiser, Doug Morgan of the MTFC Supporters Club was on hand to warn that “if the scheme doesn’t go I don’t think we’ll have Southern League football in Merthyr Tydfil for much longer” A scenario all too familiar to the current supporters of our club.

A visit to the Rich Field to play Brecon Corinthians in the Welsh Cup was the next match but was postponed due to the icy conditions, the cancellation having a knock-on affect already on fixtures as the proposed visit of Worcester City was postponed in order that the Welsh Cup match be played. Things were a lot different in those days.

It was no surprise that the re-arranged match in Brecon for 12th January was also postponed as that area was particularly badly affected, my dad remembers driving in a truck up the main road to Brecon with the snow packed up on each side of the road with just a gap to drive through, it must have been a claustrophobic experience indeed. The Welsh Cup still took priority so the Southern League remained dormant for the Lilywhites.

The cold snap was already affecting the club’s finances but Vice-Chair Bill Richards remained bullish; “It is a present loss which we hope to recover later in the year with evening matches”.

By 19th January the Merthyr Express was reporting Thousands Without Water in Merthyr’s Freeze Up, it was noted that many homes in exposed areas had been without water for two weeks already. Of the 4,000 council homes in the Borough, a third were frozen up.

Indeed elsewhere in the UK, the FA Cup 3rd Round was struggling to its conclusion. It finally took 66 days to complete with a total of 261 postponements recorded. This inactivity provided the cause for the Pools Panel to sit for the first time.

Despite the cold weather and no football Merthyr team manager Les Graham continued to look for new signings, it was reported that Alan Wood was a target from Bristol Rovers coupled with Ray Williams coming from Hereford United.

Merthyr still looked to play their Welsh Cup tie with Brecon but the low temperatures and snow was unrelenting and the chances of playing this match were basically nil.

Ken Tucker remembered the season very well, “The pitch at Penydarren Park was unavailable so we had to train indoors at the YMCA on Tuesday and Thursday as normal. The team was full of ex-professional players so there was no let up in training”.

Meanwhile the Heads of the Valley Bingo Club had got off to a slow start, Doug Morgan blamed the weather and the overlap with the Supporters’ Club established Lucky Numbers scheme. However with the backing of the local LVA the scheme was picking up. The first £70 winner was Mr. J.H. Jones of Merthyr Conservative Club.

The local weather conditions had not changed by the following week, this time it was local industry that was forced to act. On 23rd January Hoovers put off 1,700 workers as Welsh Gas reduced its supply to businesses by up to 50%, the factory was able to re-start the day shift the following day and had to send telegrams (this is long time before text messages!!) to 450 workers advising them to resume. Lines Bros had 500 workers off by that Wednesday too but hoped to resume by Monday. The domestic scene was no better as coal supplies were scarce too, the prefab house in Haydn Terrace, Penydarren were particularly badly hit by this.

The Brecon game unsurprisingly still had not been played but the club was hopeful of reserve team fixture at Penydarren Park on 26th January against Swansea Town. The match in Brecon scheduled for that day was doubtful so the club announced that if off then they would play the Southern League XI in the Welsh League fixture. It was hoped that as Swansea’s match at Queens Park Rangers that day was also in doubt that a match containing both first team squads could be witnessed by the Merthyr Tydfil faithful.

The ice remained in place though and was delaying the signing of both Wood and Williams. Good news though as Colin Rees joined the club from Leeds United.

Ice on the Neuadd Reservoirs was reported as 18 inches thick.

Halifax Town converted The Shay stadium into a public ice rink to raise funds.

It was now over a month since the last match at Penydarren Park, a Welsh League match against Ferndale on 22nd December 1962.

It was still not as bad as the 1946/47 season when Merthyr went nine weeks without a home game, although they did manage to play away games in that time. When they finally managed to play a match at Penydarren Park 5,400 fans turned up to see Bedford smashed 6-1. That season had to be extended with the final home match being the visit of Milford United for a Welsh League match on 14th June!!!

The Brecon match on 26th Jan was off, there’s a theme to this story somewhere.

The weather at the end of the month seemed to improve but still the problems continued with over 1,000 burst water pipes reported and many gas mains fractured. Residents in Blanche Street, Dowlais were evacuated from their homes as gas board workers looked to repair a leak, unfortunately one resident Sarah Williams was found unconscious at home and had to be rushed to St. Tydfil’s Hospital for treatment, sadly she died two weeks later. The emergency services remained on high alert, they even had to intervene to remove a large icicle from outside of Howfields in the town High Street.

Good news for the football though as the Swansea Town friendly went ahead. The first match at Penydarren Park for six weeks, a disappointing 2-1 defeat. Ken Tucker raised the spirits though with a spectacular goal in response to brace by the visitors’ Mike Hayes. Frankie Collins missed a late penalty for the hosts, hitting his shot straight at keeper Gordon Smith after Brian Hughes had handled. 420 attended this match, no doubt hungry for football action.

The Swansea match wasn’t without its problems though, the water system froze so the players had to use the YMCA building’s facilities after the match.

Brecon finally relented to Merthyr’s request and the Welsh Cup match was scheduled for Penydarren Park the following week if it passed an inspection by referee Leo Callaghan therefore the match with Wisbech Town joined the long list of postponed Southern League fixture sidelined by the Welsh Cup. If the match went ahead then Cyril Beech was the surprise choice at centre-forward. Alan Wood had finally joined Merthyr but was unable to play due to FA of Wales rules.

Within seven days the snow had returned and in force - a warm front then produced a thaw that turned the roads to slush nevertheless the road system was hit badly. Water pipe problems remained for residents and coal supplies remained low.

The FAW finally relented as the Brecon match was postponed once again, both clubs were instructed to resume their league fixtures with the Welsh Cup match scheduled for a midweek date. Penydarren Park was put once again on stand-by for the fixture but in the meantime the Lilywhites turned their attention to the possible visit of Cambridge City but the thaw had brought its own problems and the match was considered 50/50 to be played.

The Heads of the Valley Bingo Club (does anyone know how this worked?) continued and the £70 first prize was claimed by a Mrs. Richards who had bought her ticket in the Glamorgan Arms (where was that in the town?), the LVA was now in full support of the scheme and publicans were encouraged to lend their support.

The home matches did not beat the elements so Merthyr gambled on playing a tour of Dorset to tick off two fixtures for 15th and 16th of February. Weymouth on the Friday night with Poole hosting the next day. Danny McCarthy, a former Cardiff City player, also joined the squad.

The gamble was a relative success with a 2-0 defeat at Weymouth and a excellent 3-0 win at Poole. Merthyr playing well in both matches. Centre-half Keith Vopke continued to catch the eye at the back. The win at Poole was particularly satisfying as the match was played in ankle deep mud plus new signings Wood and McCarthy netted a goal apiece.

As Merthyr planned for the next week’s journey to Yeovil, who were the proposed Welsh League opponents for Penydarren Park (weather permitting)? Brecon Corinthians of course.

Merthyr continued to impress with a 1-1 draw in front of 1,820 at Yeovil. Jim Clarke scoring a brilliant goal with a cool lob over the goalkeeper from a narrow angle. The Brecon match? … Postponed I’m afraid.

The Penydarren Park groundsman John Rees now called for volunteers to clear the pitch and get it ready for the visit of Guildford City on 2nd March, the Supporters’ Club responded and a dedicated team worked all week to attempt to finally get a Southern League fixture completed at our home ground.

864 supporters were there to see the return of first team football after over 2 months absence from Merthyr. Some still thought that the match shouldn’t have gone ahead but referee David Jones from Aberbargoed got it started and both teams entertained in a 0-0 draw despite pools of water and ankle deep mud all over the pitch.

After the match it was reported that manager Les Graham had confronted one of the club directors.

The following Thursday saw the long awaited Welsh Cup tie with Brecon finally played, a 2-1 victory meant a fourth round tie at home to Newport County but Les Graham had already departed. He tendered his resignation to the Board prior to the match. Les Graham had joined the club in 1959 to succeed Albert Lindon, he had already taken two pay-cuts whilst managing Merthyr.

The Directors’ dispute with Les Graham appeared to be about the amount of time he spent at Penydarren Park, he lived in Cwmbran and trained in Newport.

The loss of the Manager was far from popular with the supporters but at least they had football to watch as the Club looked to tackle the obvious back-log of fixtures. Following a 4-0 defeat at Wellington came a spell of three matches in five days; Thursday 21st March home to Newport County in the Cup (kick off at 4.30pm as we had no lights in those days) - but were well beaten 4-0, two days later we hosted and lost 1-0 to Dartford in the League (560 crowd), at 4.45pm on the Monday we took and beat Wellington 2-1 in front of 490 fans.

The remainder of that season became a relegation battled culminating in a fine 3-1 win over Cambridge City, who arrived as League Champions, in front of 780 supporters on 11th May. The heroes on the day were Ken Tucker who scored two goals, both from Frankie Collins’s long throws, and Brian Williams.

Who knows how long the current freeze will remain? Will it surpass both 1947 and 1963? Let’s hope not. I fancy watching us on 23rd January v. Chippenham, don’t you?

Twentieth anniversary of the fanzine

2010-01-02T23:12:00.003Z

It was August 1989 and two Merthyr supporters are carrying a box around Old Road, Briton Ferry during a pre-season friendly in the sunshine (can you remember when we had a pre-season and it was sunny?), the majority of the crowd that day bought a copy of the new fanzine Dial M For Merthyr, probably most of them thought it was the programme (in the early days we were always asked "Is this the programme?", we'd say yes, sell one and then hope they didn't realise until we were safe in Strikers drinking the profits!) but it was the start of the Dial M For Merthyr fanzine.

The late 80s had spawned a new generation of publications dedicated to raising the profile of the ordinary supporter on the terraces, the early pioneers being When Saturday Comes, The City Gent (Bradford City), The Pie (Notts County), Orientear (Leyton Orient) and Watch the Bluebirds Fly (Cardiff City), it was a post-Hillsborough landscape with the fight against ID cards being led by the fledgling Football Supporters Association from its Liverpool headquarters, fences around the pitches, crumbling terraces and a wagonwheel was the best food you could get. The fanzines were a constant antidote to the patronising and out of touch coverage of the established media in the UK who failed to see the real issues relevant to all supporters, the fanzines weren't always welcome (the Merthyr Express expressed its caution in welcoming us after one of our early issues) but they remained vibrant until the establishment began to absorb the better elements into the mainstream, mainstay publications like Shoot were soon overtaken by more fanzinesque editions like FourFourTwo who relied heavily on journalists who had cut their teeth on the fanzine scene.

Dial M For Merthyr has continued over the 20 years to cover the fortunes of our club whether through joint fanzines with Cardiff City, testimonial issues for Chris Holvey or anti-racism booklets for the annual Let's Kick Racism Out of Football. We may not be able to match both Cardiff City and Swansea City for the number of fans but we have shown constantly that we have enough talent to maintain a famous fanzine brand which continues to be admired in terrace culture.

Twenty years after that first issue copied in Merthyr Law Courts and side stapled by hand, we look to bring out an anniversary issue celebrating 20 years of Merthyr Tydfil FC fan culture so whether its the poncho you wore to Woking, the music you listened to as you drove to Sutton Coldfield or the article that changed your view on football please forward your memories on both fanzine and Merthyr Tydfil to us for inclusion in the next issue. Deadline will be around 20^th February 2010.

Please forward all articles, one liners, poems, ideas for articles, dodgy photos of MTFC fans in various grounds to us at wolvesy@yahoo.co.uk

NEITHER CARDIFF NOR SWANSEA BUT INTERNATIONAL MERTHYRISM

Transport Top Trumps

2009-08-31T15:53:00.002+01:00

I'm hoping to keep everyone up to date with the standard of motor coach tranport for those lucky visiting teams arriving at the Lyn Jones Gates during the season, and so to the first league table of the current campaign;

Bedford - a nice orange coach, with nice leather seats, Sky TV also on board so they could grab a quick glimpse of Y Clwb Pel Droed on S4C before they headed over the bridge
Bashley - non-descript but they steal 2nd place with their classy "Pride of the New Forest" bus plaque
Tiverton - unimpressive, can't remember it to be honest, which is a bit of a drawback for a definitive review

More to follow - will Nuneaton be able to shine on arrival? Can Bedford be knocked off the top of the table? We can envisage this being the new crowd-pleaser at Penydarren Park, crowds thronging the Dai Martin Drive to catch a first glimpse of the away team charabanc, extra stewards being required, copies of "Bus Monthly" being on sale in the Club Shop, or do we have too much free time on our hands?

Late News

2009-08-31T15:45:00.002+01:00

Dial M For Merthyr is delighted to announce that Mr. Colin Mewett will be available to the media on Saturday 5th September following his appearance to cut the ribbon to re-open the Colin the Monk Stand at Penydarren Park prior to the Nuneaton Town match. Colin will be happy to take questions on football stadium architecture, the relevance of Shalespeare to current football programmes' content and the necessity of stocking Rhymney Bitter in the Candac Suite but is unable to comment on Burnley's great start to the season.

The fine art of simulation

2009-08-30T21:17:00.002+01:00

It seems the football world is getting rather hot under the collar with the current spate of players indulging in a bit of simulation, in other words diving. Now you cannot fail to have seen the footage of the Eduardo penalty incident for Arsenal against Celtic last week, this has sparked the usual backpage controversy as pundits from all aspects of the media try to have their say without upsetting anyone from within the game, did he dive? Do we care? Or to be honest, would we care if our player dived for us?

Of course for all Merthyr fans of a certain generation this is a moot point because we have seen the greatest proponent of the fine art of simulation in the shape of Chris "The Legend" Williams. The Legend joined us from Bridgend Town I think and was an instant hit with the Penydarren Park faithful, a decent goalscorer who pitched in with a dozen or so goals a season but it was for the dark arts that he was most admired. And let no-one tell you different, it was an art form for Chrissie.

There's many a tale of a desperate Merthyr piling on the pressure for that late winner or equaliser but to no avail, the crowd are frantic, nothing seems to work, just think back to this weekend's match against Bedford as an example, but then a stoppage in play and a substitution, a roar from the crowd as Chrissie's perma-tanned shape sprints on to the pitch, the rest is in the hands of the match officials as at some point he will hit the deck in the area, it's a certainty, as certain as night follows day that we will have a penalty appeal and we'd usually get the verdict as he was surely the master at his dark craft, a little nudge past the defender and a twist and down he'd go, a whistle, the man in black pointing to the spot (or where it should be for the Theatre End) and celebrations amongst the Merthyr support and did we ever think it was wrong? Was there ever any guilt? You know the answer already, if its for your team its acceptable but if its the other team?

I was once at Portsmouth watching the Wolves lose again when Steve Claridge crashed to the ground with minimal contact and as the packed away end rose collectively to its feet to roar its disapproval I was the only left sitting in those damp seats with a wry smile as I remember back to Chrissie Williams. The fine art of simulation will never die but there's some who are craftsmen and some like Eduardo who are not.

Friday 12th June

2009-06-12T23:00:00.003+01:00

There are few days in life that echo down the years, today was one of them. Our Supporters' Trust made true on their promise to protect the club from the never ending procession of winding-up orders issued against it. The last few weeks have seen the Trust's legal representatives defer insolvency, keep us in the FA Cup and call "time out" on the continued stagnation of our proud club. We now look with hope to the future.

The work starts here. The supporters of Merthyr Tydfil FC have acted on its behalf and will continue to do so.

Keep on, keepin' on!

Rock stars sign up for web comedy

2009-05-06T20:14:00.002+01:00

By Ian Youngs Music reporter, BBC News

Pete Doherty, his former bandmate Carl Barat and ex-Creation Records boss Alan McGee are appearing in a new comedy about the world of rock 'n' roll. Svengali is earning a cult following on YouTube after McGee, who signed Oasis and Primal Scream, agreed to enlist in some of his famous friends. Barat plays himself in the new episode, with Doherty lined up for the next one. Noel Gallagher is next on the list of stars to ask. McGee said: "Anything is possible. We know everybody."

The show was conceived by Shameless actor (and Dial M's very own) Jonathan Owen, who plays the manger of a hopeless new rock band called the Premature Congratulations. He is trying to get them a record deal and wants to persuade Doherty and Barat to reform the Libertines so his band can support them.

Jonathan Owen plays struggling rock band manager Dixie. "It's a parody of the world of rock 'n' roll," Owen said. "But you can't parody rock 'n' roll because it's the only profession in the world where bad behaviour is actively encouraged, and I don't think there's another industry like that. It's a perfect world to capture on camera.

"I wanted to use real rock and pop stars to play themselves," he continued. "People love to send themselves up so I was absolutely delighted that people like Alan McGee and Carl Barat came in and played themselves, and more people now want to be in it as well." McGee initially agreed to make a cameo appearance in the second episode, but liked it so much that he has opened his contacts book.

Owen said: "The next step is that we want to get Russell Brand and Noel Gallagher. Alan's very good friends with them and he's basically said to us, 'I'll get whoever you want.'" I'm not trying to get a Bafta or an Oscar - "I'm playing Alan McGee with guys that I've just met who I like. And bizarrely, it works and I like the people, so I'll carry on doing it."

Owen has inside knowledge of the music industry after having a record deal as part of The Pocket Devils in the 1990s, while Svengali's scriptwriter Dean Cavanagh - Irvine Welsh's writing partner - was in Glamorous Hooligan.

The director, Phillip John, who has made episodes of BBC One drama Ashes to Ashes, was in punk band Reptile Ranch. Svengali's cast also features Smack the Pony's Sally Phillips. Owen said they had been approached to turn the show into a film, and were currently talking to Stephen Fry's production company.

Svengali episode 3 (2 parts)

2009-05-05T00:14:00.001+01:00

Jon Owen, the fanzine's very own Taffy Fox, has produced a further two episodes of the Svengali series for your enjoyment;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2G1fWap1drY

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sG7A0ubEsYM

Watch the Bluebirds Fly

2009-03-30T21:11:00.002+01:00

Congratulations to Nick and the lads from Watch the Bluebirds Fly Fanzine - 20 years and still going, the current issue (No. 65) is a return to form for the Abercynon based publication. Now available on the terraces at Ninian Park.

Issue 47 - Thank You

2009-03-14T23:39:00.002Z

Thanks to everyone who bought a fanzine today, it was great to see that Dial M For Merthyr remains a favourite amongst the supporters.

So far we have raised £58.50 through the first day of sales, this profit will go towards the Players Travel Fund.

If anyone missed a copy of Issue 47 today, please contact us either via themartyrs.com forum or via funkysheep@dialmformerthyr.net

On that subject, don't forget that the Trust is hosting a Quiz at the Cefn Club on Thursday 19th March starting at 7.30pm. All profits from this event will also go into the Players Travel Fund.

Dial M - Issue 47

2009-03-13T21:02:00.002Z

Staggering news - we said there would be no more Dial Ms in print, but as usual we couldn't resist once more day in the sun. Issue 47 goes on sale outside Penydarren Park before tomorrow's Merthyr game versus Brackley. Price 50p.

Svengali Episode II

2009-03-13T20:54:00.000Z

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hT9bumvQvN8
Dial M's Jon Owen stars as Dixie in the second episode of Svengali. Keep an eye out for Guardy who makes his acting debut. His texting in the pub scene is remeniscent of a young Al Pacino. Big things are expected of Guardy in the future.

A tribute to Frankie in Issue 30

2009-03-04T19:52:00.002Z

At the pantheon that is Penydarren Park,
Frank is this Martyr's nonpareil,
As the faces changed,
The destination changed,
but Frank still remained, true,

Season after season,
Frank was at the fore,
The sonorous terrace of Wales's greatest team,
respectful even more,

From fullback through to trainer,
and all round cool cat,
The Wank Bank will always salute,
the true hero of Merthyr's proletariat

The Purple Elephant recalls the halcyon days in Issue 29

2009-03-04T19:36:00.003Z

My favourite team is Merthyr
They play in black & white
They're in the Dr. Martens League
This year they're pretty shite

They've won the Welsh Cup three times
and big crowds went to see
They used to be quite good before
Their best? Division Three!

They don't win enough these days
but it doesn't bother me
I'll always love the Martyrs
more than Linda Lusardi

Purple Elephant says that he loves Merthyr

2009-03-03T17:54:00.002Z

I love you Merthyr,
I love you more than the tides love the moon,
Or Mickey loves Minnie and Pooh loves honey,
I love your big green pitch and your grey concrete lumps,
And your cool black and white strip,
But no matter how green your pitch,
How grey your concrete lumps,
How cool your black and white strip,
It's you that I love,
When I saw you standing there,
Me, Thirteen,
You, Forty One,
Smiling at me,
I had come out of Strikers and you were just shining,
A naked soul shining,
And I knew I would just die if I didn't spend the rest of my life with you.

Suntan Sammy poem 2

2009-03-03T17:52:00.001Z

Poretta,
You weren't too clever,
But don't fret(ta),
Now you're better

Suntan Sammy poem 1

2009-03-03T17:47:00.003Z

Sam Bowen,
We're glad you're going,
You're not as good as Cohen,
or even Jason Bowen

Atalanta revisited

2009-02-03T11:53:00.003Z

The Dial M lads returned to Bergamo last week for the visit of Bologna, a few of the sites from 1987 where revisited including the stables area where the buses from Como were coralled before the match, the hotel at the rail station where the Bar Boys stayed and also the Hotel Excelsior San Marco where the team stayed and where the iconic rooftop shot of Georgie and Wayne Punk was taken.

A return trip is planned soon, details will be posted.

Svengali Pilot

2009-02-02T20:24:00.001Z

Jon Owen, the Taffy Fox of Dial M fame, has unveiled his latest short. It's well worth a view;

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=F-b1ZuLwYGs

Issue 13 and a half online

2009-01-29T21:21:00.002Z

This is like your Birthday, Christmas and the day you lost your virginity all rolled into one.

Here's Issues 13 and a half, 14, 15 and 16 all in one post.

http://content.yudu.com/Library/A12mjt/DialMIssue13andahalf/resources/index.htm
http://content.yudu.com/Library/A12mjv/DialMIssue14/resources/index.htm
http://content.yudu.com/Library/A12mjw/DialMIssue15/resources/index.htm
http://content.yudu.com/Library/A12mjx/DialMIssue16/resources/index.htm

ALL FOR FREE.... Whoo Hooo!!!!

Interested in fanzines?

2009-01-25T10:43:00.003Z

Dial M For Merthyr continues to receive the best titles of the fanzine world and if you fancy a sample read of our colleagues in the zine world then why not pick up a free copy of an issue in the club shop from the Tiverton match on 27th January.

We currently have the latest issues of;

When Saturday Comes, the half-decent football magazine
Leyton Orientear - Leyton Orient
The Thin Blue Line - Cardiff City
The Popular Stand - Doncaster Rovers
A Load of Bull - Wolverhampton Wanderers
The City Gent - Bradford City

The next issue of Dial M For Merthyr is in the production stage.

A Letter from America

2009-01-09T22:29:00.002Z

The San Fransisco Martyr contacted Dial M today with some great moments of past Martyr magic. Take it away Spic.........

So here’s my list of the top 10 Merthyr games that I have attended. Some choices are obvious, others a little more esoteric, but all are games that have stuck in my head for various reasons. I make no apologies that the bulk of the games are drawn from the late 1980s and early 1990s. This of course, is because I later became an expat and martyr fan in exile. Coincidentally we got crap again around this point in time as well…..

1. Merthyr vs Atalanta Won 2-1 European Cup Winners Cup, 1987
The obvious choice – the Sgt Pepper of the survey. The strangest thing about this game isn’t that we beat a top draw Italian side containing the majestic, Swedish footballer of the year Glenn Stromberg. The strange thing is that it didn’t seem like a surprise to me. For a week Merthyr was the centre of the universe. Ceri Williams was on St and Greavsie tarmaccing (check THAT out on Urban Dictionary) roads. We were backpage headlines in National newspapers. The Merthyr team met the Pope (Ok, I exaggerate… anyway who needed the Pope when we had God A.K.A Lyn Jones).

2. Merthyr vs Newport, Drew 2-2, Won 1-0 Welsh Cup Final, 1987For some purists this may well be number 1, the earlier work that made the magnum opus of Atalanta possible. Continuing the Beatles theme, think Revolver. The key to the success was coming from behind twice in the first game wasn’t seen as a victory, only a draw. Underdogs rarely win big game replays, but we did – victory duly crowned from the spot by Chris Baird. Ahh the good old days – Thursday cup final replays, only one substitute, Carol Jones’ buses, Stevie Williams tackle. It also meant I got to go and watch one of those open top team parades that I only normally get to see on the news.

3. Merthyr vs Crawley, Won 3-1, Southern League Premier, 1989
This game has attained legendary status. Penydarren Park has been described a dustbowl as temperatures soared into three figures , and my personal memories recall massed pitch invasions for each of our goals and at the final whistle. It capped the end to a remarkable run-in where, according to some sources, we played our last 10 league games in just a two week period, and Dai Webley broke Dixie Dean’s record of 60 league goals in a season. Although some of these stories are undoubtedly Apocryphal it was a remarkable game to cap a remarkable run-in to cement our place in the Conference for the first time in our history.

4. St Albans vs Merthyr, Won 5-4, FA Trophy 1993
A nine goal thriller – 3 of which I missed either side of the half time break due to either refueling or taking toilet pit stops. My goal celebration for the winner is still talked about by Moppy to this day. Unfortunately, so are my navigation skills for the trip back to Stevenage. I was the self proclaimed lucky charm for the Martyrs FA Trophy run that year, making several successful away trips. I still have pangs of guilt for pulling out of the trip to Gateshead at the last minute, where we spectacularly surrendered a 2 goal lead to crash out.

5. Bristol Rovers vs Merthyr, Lost 6-0, FA Cup 1987
The omens were not good when Dai Webley sustained a work injury prior to the game and missed out. Gary Wager breaking his leg when the score was goalless did not help either. Roger Mullen went in goal, but he also got injured, or sent off, or something. Peter Jones was definitely sent off for a Cantona-esque kung fu attack. These were still the heady days of one substitute so between the injuries and red cards we must have finished the game with 8 or 9 men. So why is this game in my top 10? Our third goalkeeper of the day, centre-forward Chris Williams, dived (surprise surprise..) to save a late penalty. The Merthyr faithful responded like we had just won the entire trophy – it was the ultimate Pyrrhic victory. It also began a run of four five seasons where we were an ever present in the 1st round Proper of the Cup.

6. Swansea vs Merthyr, Won 2-0, Welsh Cup 1988
Away to league opposition with Wayne Jones in goal – this was to be the game in which the cheeky non league upstarts were to be brought down to earth. However that reality check would have to wait for another round as the good times just continued to roll. This was the beginning of seven successive years when we would draw the Swans in the Welsh Cup. We won some, we lost some, but like all sequels the original remains the best. This would be higher up the list but for the fact that on the bus trip home I over enthusiastically signed up for an away trip to Buckingham the following Saturday. In a classic case of after the Lord Mayor’s Show they hammered us 3-0.

7. Newport IOW vs Merthyr, Won 3-2, Southern League Premier, 2002
The game which heralded the start of my Renaissance period with the Martyrs after several years of self imposed exile. Tickets to Ryde, fish pie to die for, attaining hero status at the Balcony nightclub, second winds, avuncular feelings and heading back on the ferry with all 3 points. It was a game where I had forgotten the joys of non league football – not only can you abuse the opposing goalkeeper, but he can hear you, and will more likely than not abuse you back. Who would have thought that a British seaside resort in January could be so much fun.

8. Merthyr vs Stafford Rangers(?), 4-3, Conference 1991(?)
The height of the ‘lucky seats’ phenomenon. Having used them to overturn a 2-0 half time deficit earlier in the season we faced an even steeper mountain as we trailed 3-0 at the break. We believed, and Mick delivered, calling on the Roman pantheon buried under Penydarren Park to deliver our Istanbul. The lucky seats era were happy days but unfortunately the fickle Gods have long since abandoned us and are now rumoured to follow Liverpool around Europe.

9. Merthyr vs Malta, Won 2-1, International Friendly, 1988(?)
This game was a symbol for how much Merthyr were conquering all that lay before them in their glory years. They were playing, and beating international teams. My favourite touch with this game was that our opponents were billed as a “Malta World Cup XI”, as if Malta have ever been near one…However we did beat Malta, who have beaten Greece, who won the European Championship in 2004 – few non league teams could lay claim to such grandeur with just two degrees of separation.

10. Merthyr vs Wealdstone, Drew 1-1(?) Conference 1990(?)
From the stands at Penydarren Park it has been possible to spot a few big names – Bob Latchford, Paul Merson, Robert Prosinecki, Norman Whiteside… Nothing compares however to seeing my childhood hero Trevor Cleaver from Grange Hill in the away end. His clandestine card playing days in the Boiler Room were to provide the inspiration for my own shenanigans in my school’s Computer Room, and he even got to stalk my childhood sweetheart Georgina Hayes. Saying that, he did look a little too much like Brent Carter. B+.

The Placid Ex-Casual

Time for (climate) change

2009-01-06T12:22:00.000Z

Dial M For Merthyr believes its time for the current club to follow the lead of the pioneers of 1908 and consider a change of sport at Penydarren Park.

A bold move maybe, but with the current cold weather becoming normal for this time of year its becoming increasingly obvious that other forms of entertainment are needed at PP to keep the turnstiles turning and the bank account healthy.

Our solution? Schedule all matches away for January. Hire the local fire brigade to take a few thousand gallons of water from the Taff, after carefully extracting any neglected shopping trolleys, and flood Penydarren Park. Allow mother nature to do her work.

Ice.

Its so obvious really, we welcome the birth of the town’s new ice hockey team.

We just need a snappy name now.

The Merthyr White Socks anyone?

Wolvesy

Dial M For Merthyr Tours Coming Soon!

2009-01-05T00:22:00.002Z

The Tourist Trap

Dial M for Merthyr is happy to finally release the news that Historical Tours around Merthyr will begin in the close season (no, not annually in October) so from May onwards tourists will be able to discover the hidden relationship between Merthyr Tydfil Football Club and its immediate surroundings. Tours will start from the famous "Dai Martin" Gates at Penydarren Park with a designated guide allocated to each group, training in spin & propaganda has been undertaken by Dial M for Merthyr volunteers and already we have an expert at hand to guide the innocent visitors around our fair borough, unfortunately his name is Hulby but no matter the size of the party they'll be able to hear his wise words as they wander the avenues and boulevards of the Pearl of the Valleys, in fact they'll be able to follow the script in Thomastown with a decent westerly breeze.

But what's the tour entail I hear you ask? It'll be an audacious journey through the history of our famed football club as we visit sites of special importance to us all. The tour is being developed constantly so if you can suggest further areas of the locality that have added to the story of the Martyrs then please get in touch so that we can bring Hulby up to speed.

The first port of call for those wishing to learn the background to the all-conquering football teams of Merthyr is Park Terrace, our guests will be free to amble down the tree lined artery that links our fine stadium to the outside world. Here our guide will be joined by colleagues to give a practical demonstration of the hidden Merthyr art of bouncing a parked car out of the way of a visiting team bus before they reach the St. Mary's Church.

Here they will be asked to pause at the memorial plate to the original pick up point for all supporters' club away trips, once again aided by his colleagues the Guide will look to re-enact the pushing and shoving of the supporters as the Parfitts bus arrived, any tourists who manage to beat the tour guide team to the back seats of the bus will win prizes. Smacking the seats and spreading a dust storm through the coach is strictly prohibited although historically correct.

As the tour group turns left on the Brecon Road there will be just enough time to gaze upon the Edwardian splendour of the Park View public house, those brave enough to undertake the "last pint before the bus" challenge can re-live the unique Merthyr tradition of ordering a lager even though the bus had just pulled up in front of the church. Hulby will supervise the consumption of the pints before heading for the British Tip (of course the subsequent traditional piss stop at Tafarnaubach will not be covered on the current tour).

The British Tip section of the day is the first of our character events, the tour guides will dress in appropriate 1980s police costume complete with obligatory moustaches and help to re-enact the post-match scenes from the 6-1 defeat by Enfield from the era. Tourists will be handed small packets of rocks in order to meet the challenge of stoning the visiting supporters' coaches parked in the Castle car park, once again a direct hit will result in a prize although a true re-enactment would be to run around aimlessly from the police giggling before trying to buy cider in the Fountain Shop.

The tour party by now will arrive at the new embarkment point for all Travel Club trips; the Law Courts. In bad weather there will be an opportunity to seek shelter in the doorway of the Courts as hundreds of expectant travellers have in the past. Hulby has special access to enter the building so that everyone can gaze upon the actual photocopier that worked through the night in 1989 to produce the 1st issue of the Dial M For Merthyr fanzine, but remember no touching!

As the group heads into Glebeland Street they will be in need of refreshment, and here they will have reached one of the most important watering holes for the discerning Merthyr supporter; the Wyndham Arms. This tavern has become the spring board for all away games (although for an evening match a pint of Rhymney Dark in the Winchester has also been known to have sufficed), so the lucky tourists can pause to reflect on the majesty of our town with a pint whilst watching the racing from Wincanton and listening to the Clash on the juke box. It doesn't get better than that for the vast majority of Merthyr fans. A true opportunity, although we're a bit worried that Hulby and his team won't be any position to carry on the home leg of the tour by this time.

But onwards they must go and it's across the road, through the alley, and into the bus station to visit one of the many places of pilgrimage for those who still worship the 1987 Welsh Cup winning team. Yes it's the spot at the X4 Cardiff bus-stop where Ceri Williams was found sleeping on the Monday morning after the game (yes the replay was played on a Thursday), it's been said that a short nap at this spot can cure the most fierce of hangover. It's like a boozy lourdes. Hulby will need to compose himself at this point and move the party quickly down the High Street to visit the 1980s version of the Merthyr web-site. Where did you buy the Football Echo for the match reports from home and away? Where did you buy raffle tickets? Where were you able to catch up on the gossip from the club? Yes, Bernard's Newsagent where a quality selection of porn and fireworks were also on display. We were quite excited when the new building on the corner of Swan Street was being built, there were rumours of a museum to commemorate the shop complete with low ceiling but we think it's a barber shop instead. Where was Cadw to prevent this happening?

The trail now heads back up the High Street heading towards the Old Town Hall but first the party will be able to pop into the shoe shop at the bottom of the arcade built on the site of the old estate agent where supporters sold tickets for the Welsh Cup Final in May '87.

A quick detour up the arcade to stand outside Tesco is next, this used be the site of the original Train Station and it seems that in our early days visiting teams or supporters were routinely encouraged to leave the town by the discerning locals, the tour party will be aided by Hulby and his colleagues to hurl filthy and abusive language in a 1911 fashion to extras dressed as Edwardian Cardiff fans. It's fun for all the family but done in a responsibly historical manner.

Each tour member will be handed a black & white rubettes style hat and a Lyn Jones black & white dragons scarve for the next stage of the journey. An open top double decker bus with Frankie Hegarty upon it will drive slowly up Castle Street, Frankie will hold a replica of the Welsh Cup and the tour party will be able to relive the Cup win parade from 1987. Black v-neck jumpers and thin, pale blue club ties will be worn by all tour guides at this point in deference to the dress code of the day. Recordings of Lyn Jones's speech will be played from the balcony. The Old Town Hall is an integral part of the Merthyr football story, it was here that the public meetings were held in the formation of the new club in 1945. It would be great if a football museum could be added to any plans the council has for the current site especially as it was here that the courage of servicemen sending money back from the outposts of the war was rewarded by setting up of Merthyr Tydfil AFC.

The party will be tired by now, the walk around the gilded streets of the borough coupled with magnitude of both our club's history and potential would have exhausted even the fittest and most cynical of tourist but there's no time for rest as the Tour Guides will push on up the High Street past an icon of cuisine that satisfied generations of Merthyr supporters; Hing Hongs or to be accurate to the local dialect; Billy Bongs. A few tourists may feel the need to lay flowers in memory of the Special Chow Mein with an Egg on top, Hulby may need to be consoled at this point but he is a professional and will carry on his duties.

There will only be time for a quick nod to the Anchor, the current post-match watering hole for the fanzine team, before moving swiftly up the famous street to reach the Imperial Hotel. The tour would with ordinary circumstances be able to experience the pre-match routine of the first Merthyr Town teams who for three seasons used the Tiger Inn on this site as their dressing rooms before walking up to Penydarren Park for a game but scandalously no-one seems to want to take responsibility for the derelict YMCA building so the famous Pontmorlais Steps remain closed. It is said that the Spanish Steps in Rome were modelled on their Pontmorlais counterpart. Once again Cadw remain silent on the issue. Please note that it will be impossible for the party to enter the Imperial as the landlord has a strict No Gangs policy.

We now reach the final part of the tour, our skilled Tour Guides will be on hand with mountaineering equipment to aid the tour party in their final challenge the assault course from Pontmorlais Promenade past the old Cenotaph up the grass bank and over the fence by the Freemasons' Temple. The tour will now have returned to Penydarren Park where the guests will be able to contemplate their day with a complimentary Peter's Pie outside a deserted Strikers.

Dates and times of tours will be confirmed soon, subject of course to Hulby's shift patterns at the hospital.

Dial M for Merthyr Tours coming soon!

Sheppy New Year from the fanzine team

2009-01-01T10:25:00.002Z

And to celebrate here are two of Suntan Sammy's best poems from Issue 46;

Craig Stiens, your lorry is white and mean,
just like the team,
Llandarcy you get seen - or sometimes,
even Tonna

Keddle,
When you back pedal,
Don't let that winger, meddle,
with the ball

Next Issue out in early February if we get enough articles, keep on keepin' on!

Dial M's Jon Owen stars in Irvine Welsh film

2008-12-22T12:44:00.008Z

You're a Star by Colin MacIntyre

TRAINSPOTTING writer Irvine Welsh is making his directorial debut with the first full feature film ever to be filmed in Merthyr Tydfil.

Pre-production started this week as a crew from London set up camp at The Bessemer Hotel in Dowlais ahead of seven weeks of filming as part of the ITV project written by the Scottish author and starring Heolgerrig actor Jonathan Owen as a champion darts player in the lead role.

World-famous author Welsh formed a production company with Jonathan and novelist Dean Cavanagh earlier this year and the comedy, entitled Good Arrows, is one of the first projects.
Irvine was expected to arrive in Merthyr this week where he was planning to hold workshops with members of the Merthyr Media Project who will be involved in the production of the film, for which Jonathan dons a fat suit.

It is thought to be the first full-length feature film to be shot in Merthyr. Jonathan, who first appeared on our screens in the Merthyr-set soap Nuts and Bolts, and starred in Irvine’s risque TV debut Dose, said: “All my life I’ve wanted to bring something to the town and put something back.

“Irvine and Dean thought having the kids from Merthyr Media Project there to shadow the crew and learn as a real production is made was a brilliant idea, and when we went to ITV they agreed. “Irvine’s one of the most famous writers in the world and to get him to come to Merthyr is fantastic.”

Jon was sub editor of the early editions of Dial M and central to some of it's serious bufoonary.

Issue 13 online

2008-12-21T21:33:00.001Z

http://publishing.yudu.com/Library/Auf26/DialMIssue13/resources/index.htm

DMFM Mugs on sale

2008-12-21T21:27:00.002Z

Dial M mugs are now on sale at £6. To purchase one please contact us on mike@themartyrs.com

Issue 12 online

2008-12-14T21:49:00.001Z

http://publishing.yudu.com/Library/Auf27/DialMIssue12/resources/index.htm

New York New York

2008-12-06T18:39:00.026Z

As soon as Joe Calzaghe announced that he would be having his last fight in New York the need to be there became like a drug to me. Despite the problems of booking the original fight in September (before Joe broke his hand), myself and Wolvesy found ourselves in the bar at Bristol Airport at 7.30am the day before the fight. The Continental flight saw a few Miller lites served by a Stewardess who sounded like Grover off Sesame Street, we swapped Near and Far gags for an hour in her honour and soon we arrived in the Big Apple, very hungry, ready for a sesh and keen to have a top weekend.

Our hotel was just off Times Square and on crossing the neon lit wonderland I asked the Ginger Giant what his first impressions were of one of the busiest places in the world. Wolverhampton summed it up perfectly, "It's like Ponty,....... on market day". We got in our room and the TV was rammed full of American Football - NFL, College and no kidding there were a few schools games on with kids of around 14 playing. The NFL game was showing Green Bay versus The Cardinals. After debating why anyone would want to play in a shithole such as Phoenix we hit the city.

After taking in Madison Square Garden and the Empire State Building we got ourselves a steak and chip dinner each and a few pints. As the bill arrived Wolvesy received a text from Merthyr 'Keeper Ashley Morris who was in a bar just around the corner. Within a few minutes we were in The Stout, which was wall to wall Welsh people. Ash had been there a few days (New York not the Stout) and was filling us in on his trip. The bar was bouncing to the sounds of indie bands and chatter of the day ahead. The Roses, Mondays and EMF are the first three bands on offer and the party was in full swing. Ash told us the disappointing news that Kerry Hope from Merthyr would not be fighting the following day as his opponent had weighed in 5 pounds over the limit. You had to feel sorry for Kerry.

After a few more pints tiredness had set in, we were flagging, but Wolvesy had invested in two tickets to a comedy club as we'd crossed Times Square earlier, so we ventured back up through the city to find a basement club reminiscent of downstairs in the Kooler. The place was well attended, so much so that we were forced to share a table with two lovely (but obese) Yanks. This couple could eat and we had to hold our pints as there was no room to dock them due to the buffalo wings, tacos and dips they were grazing on. Their fridge must be some feat of engineering - probably to feature on Discovery next year in the series Megastructures. Mrs Fatty took a real shine to me and I was waiting to be invited back to their hotel room for a chance to burn my arse on the light bulb as a part of the Fatty swingers threesome, but I soon blew my chances as I ripped into them as they were unfortunately from Phoenix. After me pointing out that American money smelt of piss and they only voted for Obama as some kind of KKK wind up, we watched the show a respectful distance apart. A gang of numpties from over the bridge decided to get a bit chopsy with us, but we heckled them so well even the Mexican comedian turned on them and by the end of his set, they had left the scene of their embarresment.

The comedy had been pretty good and we tumbled out into the night air at 10pm. The rest of the night was a bit of a blur, meeting some pleb called Owen from Pontypridd who lived in New York and didn't know Joe was fighting (how does that work) and on the way back to the hotel the fateful words, "one for the road" caused us to stumble into one last pub. - where one became a few. New York is not like London it really is open 24/7 and the pubs are still at bursting point at 3am. It is a party town and is a highly recommended place to go with the lads.

Fight day saw us take in an open top bus trip around the south of the city, the rain hammered down at noon so the trip was to be cut short. The journey back to the hotel was enhanced when a gorgeous red head in a micro skirt sat opposite us, lets say it warmed us up for an hour.

Late afternoon saw us meet up with Ash again at the Stout and it wasn't long before we found ourselves entering MSG. We'd bought the tickets from a dodgy ticket trader from Boston and although neither of us had uttered a word about it we both breathed a sigh of relief when our bar-coded tickets beeped a happy high pitch screech and the gates swung open.

MSG was all an arena should be. Other than paying £6 for bottles of Miller p!ss it was a complete success - the view is impressive and the atmosphere was charged. A visit to the bogs was enhanced when one of our countrymen fell out of a cubicle with his trousers around his ankles only to announce that he'd shat his pants. The Americans didn't know what had hit them. Our seats were great and in true Welsh tradition there were people sleeping in our row, the day had been too much for them. As the row infront of us filled up the Red head from the bus showed up in a micro top and even more micro bra - Happy Days!!!

It was warm in the arena and we'd both worn long sleeve Merthyr away shirts -shit you sweat like fuck in them - how do the team run about for 90 minutes without collapsing. The undercard was absolutely crap, even former world champ Zab Judah fought like a pussy. We didn't care and neither did most of the crowd. A massive booooo went out when the screens showed Roy Jones Jnr entering the building and moments later around 2/3rds of the 15,000 crowd went wild in appreciation of Super Joe. It felt like a home game.

The fight was brilliant with Jones putting Calzaghe on his arse in the first round. Joe was not going to let his undefeated 45 fight record be taken however and put in a vintage display, doing what Jones has done so many times to his opponents. The work rate was unbelievable and Joe tormented Jones for the remaining 11 rounds. Jones was cut up badly and Joe won the fight 118-109 on all three judges cards. Other than the knockdown the fight was a near perfect shutout. At the end of the fight we had a chance to go ringside and rub shoulders with Lennox Lewis, Enzo Macarinelli, Enzo Calzaghe and Ioan Gruffydd. Ioan even had the chance to take a pee next to The Chairman - wonder if he's made a note of it on his blog???. On leaving MSG I bought a programme - £20 - I kid you not!!!

Back to the Stout for celebratory drinks and even the yanks were buzzing and full of praise for the Undisputed King of the Light Heavyweights. The DJ sent the pub into uproar as he played 'One Step Beyond' with people dancing on, by and under tables. By 3am we decided to hit the hay. As we jumped into the lift back at the hotel there was a mother and daughter in there already. The pensioner mam was wrecked and was bouncing off the walls. I told her she was bolluxed and she told me, "Cos he winned see butt!" in a broad valleys accent. We left her daughter trying to drag her towards their room. They'd had a good night, so had we.

The following morning saw us watching more American Football on TV, a dude washing leaves off 7th avenue with a hose for an hour when a brush would have taken him 2 minutes and two huge black fellas holding hands on the table next to us through the whole of breakfast (they didn't look the type). Our bus ticket was valid for two days so we headed up through Central Park and onward towards Harlem. At the Dakota building Wolvesy decided he needed a 'pwp'. After trying a chemical portaloo at the edge of the park the big fella came out after 10 seconds green as Kermit the Frog due to the smell and insisted we go in the museum straightaway. 10 dollars later EACH, Wolvesy was sat on the throne... happy.

After looking at weapons from the civil war we left the museum. I was intent on finding our bus stop, but Wolves was stopped by a little hobo woman and her dog intently looking at what the old crow was up to. Apparently Yoko Ono is quiet happy to talk to anyone, but even she drew the line at someone from Heolgerrig. The bus tour was quiet enjoyable, but the draw of the pub came quickly and before long our whistle stop trip was over and by early Sunday evening we were back at the airport. Wolvesy had time to pass the time with his old music teacher Wynford Jones who as a boxing referee of note, was there doing summaries for BBC Wales. By Monday morning at 9am we were back in the Pearl of the Valley and bed was calling me.

New York is a superb place to go and if Joe does fight again I recommend everyone gets along to watch the bout. Boxing has so much passion and is about the only sport that creates an atmosphere, fear of losing and joy even close to that of football. Joe Calzaghe IS the finest boxer Europe has ever produced and I am so glad I got to see him in this career defining fight against a legend like Jones.

Dr Obnoxious

Molesey (Away) FA Trophy - January 1991

2008-11-30T16:28:00.000Z

A decent Martyrs team (actually the team was crap, as always). For three intrepid explorers, who travelled up over ye old Severn Bridge to that sad and rather smelly country, the day was more memorable for an event which took place in the toilets at half time (ooooooo) than the game itself.
It was myself, Bungle & Will who lumbered down to the law courts during the depths of the harsh Glamorganshire winter, to experience the delights of a Trevor Meyrick away trip to London. These were the days when you were actively encouraged to carry alcohol on away trips. The more the better. In fact it was common place for fans to be turned away from one of Trevor's busses for not carrying the required quota of eighteen cans of elephant beer and a kilo of whizz. This almost caused the first mishap of the day as Will, upon inspection, only had seventeen cans in his possession. Things were looking ropey for a few moments until the great man produced a two litre bottle of the demon voddy which, in my book more than made up for his initial error.
The bus (which seemed to be the case on all of Trevor's trips) did resembled as Bungle put it, "a fucking swimming bus", However we were assured that there would be no problems in making it to the game. Bungle's initial fears seemed to have some content as the driver de-toured down the Merthyr Valley, and the possibility of a couple of lengths in Aberfan baths was on the cards. Will, who had by now polished off the vodka complained because he didn't have a towel.
The journey up was pretty uneventful apart from the fact that the three of us were totally blotto. The first stop was Reading services (I think.) Only a quick stop for breky and as soon as the fruit machines and spacey's were strapped to the roof it was away to go. Will was due to meet up with his new girlfriend from London whom he had met a couple of months back in Crete. Due to his totally drunken stupor he was refusing to pay full fare on the bus as he seemed convinced that he only required a single ticket as he'd be going back to her place to, "crack the case so to speak." To say that the rest of the bus had their doubts was an understatement to say the least.
On arrival in Mosley, we hit the nearest pub - The Green Dragon! Still a dragon's a dragon in my book. A couple of pints and it's decided to head for the clubhouse. Bungle moans as he thinks he's pulled. No chance. On to the clubhouse which is surprisingly ok. Will has by now disappeared to meet the "beautiful Debbie" (His words not mine) in some other local pub. Dai Ted starts taking bets whether (a) She'll turn up and (b) She's smart. Still, Will is very keen. After a few more fizzy jar's (served in the floppy pint glasses like they have at Glamorgan games), it's onto the match.
A comfortable victory is predicted by all, but it is a cup game so who knows. Still no sign of Will. The game starts well with the mighty Martyrs forcing the early pace. Steve Williams finally puts us one up on the stroke of half time giving us the psychological advantage. Still no sign of Will.
It was during this half time interval that a rather unusual incident occurred. Due to the large number of pints that had been consumed, visits to the bog were numerous. During one visit I was having a routine slash, discussing the chances of the Martyrs progressing to the next stage of the competition as you do, when all hell broke loose. Suddenly, up went the scream " GGF~EEELLLLLLL" In all the commotion it suddenly became apparent that one particularly drunk Merthyr fan was discharging a strange black substance. In fact he was so blotto that he was totally oblivious to the fact that he was pissing black! When this slight medical problem was brought to his attention he seemed quite amused and started to sing the theme tune from Dallas. The rest of the bog however did not share his enthusiasm for this amazing spectacle and instead of trying to erect an oil rig on his head thereby inciting an Iraqi invasion there was a massive stampede for the exit. With shouts of "Leper, Leper & Unclean, Unclean" Realising the panic he had caused, doctor death tried to calm the fears of the Martyrs hordes back on the terraces, who by now were chanting "bring out the dead" (a popular Wank Bank chant during the Aplin days) and with a cheeky grin explained "it's alright lads I've been drinking Guinness!!!!
Back to the game though and there is still no sign of Will. Dai Ted is starting to look worried fearing a large pay-out if Will is successful with the beautiful Debbie. The game itself is heading for a boring but deserved 1-0 win for the Martyrs when suddenly Moseley are awarded a penalty. Bollocks. 1-1. I can't believe it. Same old Merthyr. The faces in the team change but the outlook still remains gloomy. Still the final whistle goes and a replay back at PP on Tuesday. For us it's back to the club house for more ale, a quick stop off for more supplies and back on the bus for the journey west. DT is looking very glum as Will, as promised, did only required a single ticket. Jammy git.
Back in South Wales, a couple more pints and home to bed dreaming of Wembley. By the way we stuffed them in the reply 1-0.
Dai Cunny

Issue 11 online

2008-11-30T16:23:00.000Z

Issue11 now online

http://publishing.yudu.com/Library/Aufsm/DialMIssue11/resources/index.htm

New York / Calzaghe Fight Photos

2008-11-12T18:43:00.002Z

http://www.themartyrs.com/gallery/newyork08/index.htm

Merthyr on the Orient Express

2008-11-03T22:06:00.000Z

It's 8.30 a.m. The place, as usual, is the Merthyr Law Courts. The DMFM Crew are once more gathering one by one for what will hopefully be another memorable trip. The destination, The English Capital, for our F.A. Cup tie with the mighty O's of Leyton, E10. The Supporters Club buses are filling up nicely and the sight of about four hundred Merthyr fans queuing up is great. Just like the old days, eh?
9.00 a.m. arrives and our minibus still hasn't turned up along with a couple of the boys ie Jimmy Kranky and Mr Strong. However, we are joined amazingly by Typey sporting two bruised eyes courtesy of the bouncer at the Pitz. 9.30 a.m. and our minibus finally arrives with Mick, Gwynney, Hulby and, as Shaun Ryder would say, Mad Cyril on board. A quick trip back up to Dowlais to collect Mr Strong and the booze from the Miners and we are away, with a quick stop in Treforest to collect P.J. Woodcraft - Welsh Lovespoon maker.
The journey up is quiet although the traffic in London is horrific. The time is passed with Hulby and Mad Cyril shouting obscenities at everyone we pass. The highlight comes passing the BBC studios where about two hundred screaming teenage girls have gathered to catch a glimpse of Boyzone (I think). Hulby, the cool cucumber and general all-round sex god that he is sticks his head out of the window and shouts "They're all gay" to great cheers all round.
We eventually cruise into Raf the Taff's street at about 2.30 p.m. to find Raf has left for the pub. Ten minutes later we find him when he's been joined by the rest of the Orient boys as well as Keechy, fresh from a night out in Cardiff for the Holland game. Two quick bottles (or ten pints if you drink with Tim the Turtle) later and we make our way to Brisbane Road. On arrival the players have just entered the pitch and the Merthyr fans are making all the noise. I must admit to being very surprised at the size of the away support (about 850) which is bigger than our average home gate. The seats are packed and the terrace at the front is fairly full. The stewards refuse to let me put my flag on the fence claiming it would obstruct the view. The fact that there were no fans at that part of the terrace seemed to escape the Cockney twat. It was only for another club official to say it was okay that stopped a potentially nasty incident. With the game underway the Martyrs hordes seemed strangely subdued excepting for us lot. Creating an atmosphere at the Orient games is apparently not allowed as the same friendly steward told us to stop standing up to sing. Ten renditions of "You're not singing any more, Bobby Moore" and they just gave up and left us to it. The Orient fans on the other hand seemed quite happy to just sit there.
The game is going well with Merthyr having their fair share of play, without really creating good chances. Orient were, to be honest, pathetic. Their fans have every right to feel angry, as some of their players showed a total lack of commitment. Barry Hearn seems to be talking a good job of getting the O's up the league, but that's Orient for you. Big on rhetoric, small on the incidental details, such as winning football matches, however today was to prove the exception. I needn't bore you with the details of the game as most people were either there or read about it in the local press, but when one Paul Evans deservedly put us one up I went suitabit beserk. I really thought we would have gone on to win, but unfortunetly it was not to be. When that dirty Jack bastard scored the winner, I along with the rest of the Merthyr fans was, in the words of a famous actress, gutted. I just wanted to be alone. Still, before the game I would have settled for a 2-1 defeat with us scoring first. Not disgraced, the boys left the field to a standing ovation, which brought us onto the main event of the day, a night out in London.
Mad Cyril did his best to upset every member of the populus of the London Borough of Leyton on the way back to the Northcote, where many beers were to be supped, before moving onto the Birbeck. Here I ended up deep in conversation with two girls from Ireland about High Street bank charges. I tried to impress them with my Charbonniers Gold Club discotheque card, but it was all to no avail and I came to the conclusion that they must have been a pair of lesbians! Meanwhile back at the ranch Cyril is trying to get us all shot by a rather large West ham fan. As the beer is flowing, the singing begins with all the regular songs given an airing and some good quality anti-Cardiff/West ham material proving popular.
The evening then started to deteriorate with most of us getting split up trying to find some sort of nightclub. Most of the boys ended up in some Irish place but with a closing time of 12 o'clock and a £6.00 entrance fee, myself and Typey decided to head for a hard-core banging techno club in Ilford called Secrets. Sounds tacky, lets give it a go.
The club is crap. Certainly an a par with Spats in Tredegar and marginally worse than the old Hamiltons VIP club in Merthyr. Crap music, crap drink and all very expensive. However, it is full of super-model women who unfortunetly didn't want to know two pissed up Merthyr boys in Allbright stained beany hats. Stuff this, back outside after about an hour and an extremely long taxi ride back to Raz's house in the plush boulevards of Wood-something-Green. The taxi drops us off but the street is a mile long and we don't know which one old Razzi lives in. We stagger amongst the Porches and Range Rovers, until we take pot luck and knock any door. Bingo! Raz answers!
Early Sunday. Leyton Orienter -v- DMFM. No changing rooms, no showers, pissing down with rain and Orient only have six players, so straight to the King's Head for more drink, jellied eels and prawns, safe in the knowledge that the Orient boys bottled it. The final few hours of an enjoyable trip were spent singing and admiring the beautiful barmaid Mitch. 3 o'clock arrive's and we're back on the bus for a five hour journey home. Still the final moment is spent sleeping on the stairs of the Miners Hall, well and truly BLOTTY!!

Issue 10 online

2008-11-03T22:05:00.001Z

http://publishing.yudu.com/Library/Aufso/DialMIssue10/resources/index.htm

The Return

2008-10-28T09:57:00.001Z

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, it’d been a while since I had flirted with the old lady, would she still be there? The same old place, the same time, the same welcome? I wandered up the Park Terrace, hands pushed deep into my pockets against the winter chill, I daren’t raise my head into the harsh wind that blew down the avenue, lest the inevitable tears be mistaken for grief. I was aware of my companions, their resolute foot-steps echoed through the ages, how many times had I bound up past St. Mary’s a black & white rosette pinned for ever to my heart? Now in my mature years I feel a duty not to get emotional about arriving at Penydarren Park, seasons may change but time stands still on the corner of the Tregenna, young Davey Martin is always the first to greet me, it’s a tradition really, I’ve walked around and made a fresh run at the gates if David has been called away. Some things just have to be right. Neil the Gate takes the loot, we discuss today’s horse or maybe the latest Wales match, its part of his training to ensure that the supporter is relaxed for the ninety minutes ahead. The incline to Strikers seems steeper today, it must be the withdrawal symptoms again, its only the vision of Hylene with the 50/50 tickets that keeps me going, that and the slab of Kendal mint cake in my back pocket mmm warm and flat just like a pint in Randalls Bar. Two tickets please. Deposit them in place of the cake and say a little prayer to our patron saint; St. Lyn of the Joneses. Today is going to be my day, my number called, I think I’ll buy some paint. I’m ill at ease now, I just can’t remember what my pre-match routine entails; is it bar, food, piss, gossip, speculate? Or food, gossip, bar, speculate, piss? Perhaps I’ll stand in the toilets with a pie & a pint, sure to be a captive audience. I plump for a hot pie and a look at the club shop, or boutique if you prefer, my minced beef & onion pie is hot & tasty, in fact its spot on and brings that tear back to my eye, a football pie should always be just that bit too hot, you know that moment when you bite into it and the roof of your mouth caves in, or it starts to disintegrate in your hand and the molten filling is heading southwards, those are great moments in a man’s life. How you react is so important. I took my time. A great pie but couldn’t we bring a few Clarks pies up from Cardiff? True they may not travel well. The Club Shop has undergone a transformation, a sleek modern outlet run with ruthless efficiency by Wingnut, unfortunately for me its Hulby behind the counter, I stand back and marvel at the man’s genius for customer relations. Everyone gets what they want but sometimes they may not realise it until much, much later. I stumble outside, blinking into the sunlight of this brightening day for Merthyr Tydfil FC, nothing seems to have changed, which is a good thing. The Merthyr support retains that brand of gallows humour that strengthens its ties to the Club. Everyone laughs but deep down it’s the hope that keeps us going, if we put in the time then we will be rewarded by the good times. And today for me is one such time, I’m usually useless at remembering specific games but I think this one will live long for me. Chippenham Town home on 25th October, a 2-0 win. It was nice to be back at the Stadium of the Pearl, first a leisurely lounge in the Colin the Monk Stand then a nostalgic perch in the Lucky Seats, I felt relaxed and entertained. The final whistle was a disappointment, there was more to come. So I slip out of the stand and join the throng heading back down the street, the steps here are livelier, the Town team has delivered for the Town, credit crunch or recession, moods have been lifted. Into a town centre pub, head to the bar, at almost every step the score is requested, then details. I turn and make the most of it.

Monday

2008-10-27T19:31:00.000Z

I went to Aberdare today, you know just to gain a perspective on life at Merthyr. Snake Valley in the autumn, the leaves were falling fast in Llwydcoed as my bus inched its way to the Valley floor, but the town centre was busy despite the late hour of the day. Wandered around the Market, freshly baked welsh-cakes, perfection indeed, followed by a quarter of winter-warmers, it couldn’t be more old skool!. Not a bad day out to be fair. I may go back.

Spaghetti in Bologna

2008-10-26T20:28:00.000Z

After an inept performance in Zurich against an average Swiss side another away fixture against an Italian team who were, at the time, pissing the group, was never going to be easy. In the grand scheme of matters it didn't really make much difference what the outcome of the game was as Denmark at 'home' four days later was the big one. But, the manner of the defeat in the game in Bologna was the most disappointing factor; if it had not been for a phenomenal display by Paul Jones in the Stadio Dell'Arra that night then could easily have been a double figure deficit that separated Wales from the Azzuri.
Nevertheless it gave opportunity for a Dial 'M' For Merthyr mini Summer holiday to the Emilia Romagna region of Italy - a city that has modelled its pasta on the naval of Venus.
A 1.30am start from MT; Councillor Griffiths, President Mytton, Wingnut, Emma and myself were the intrepid explorers on this occasion, with the Councillor drawing the short straw of being driver to the Stansted headquarters of the UK's finest low cost airline - 'GO' (a great airline if your highest expectations of the cabin staff's dress code aspires to T-shirt, jeans and a pair of daps). The start of a mammoth 20 hour drinking session then commenced at the ungodly hour of 5am; We'd beaten the opening time of the airport bar by an hour but an emergency supply (of 'Desperate Dan' proportions) of Carling BL was pulled from the boot of the councillors car and it was away to go...
The flight then lived up to its '£100 Stansted/Bologna return' expectations ie shite, but the beer (and the spirits once the beer had run out) flowed all too easily. A short taxi ride after landing ensued in the baking heat of Bologna and we were soon in our quality accommodation right in the heart of the city; a bit pricey on this occasion, by Dial 'M' standards, anyway - £18 per person per night!
Quick change, shower, shave and the draping of the Dragon on the Hotel balcony and we were off to hit the town. Most of the Welsh fans were congregating around the City's main square (Piazza Maggiore) and the Welsh contingent added their touch of culture with a game of 5-a-side Football overlooked by an impressive statue of a macho looking Neptune, surrounded by voluptuous mermaids, water gushing freely from their breasts...
The gastronomic capital of Italy, Bologna serves up high quality cuisine that nurtures a multitude of good life's ingredients; Parma ham, Parmesan cheese, mortadella, chestnuts, fairytale funghi and the inevitable Burger King. Yes, in this hotbed of culinary delights the Dial 'M' party posse dines with Ronald McDonalds archenemy.
The day ends in a blur with several lobster faced sunburnt Welsh fans dancing the night away in the now customary European City's Irish bar...
The morning of the game kicks off with a walk to the player's Hotel to pick up the allocated match tickets. John Hartson is walking around outside the Hotel and, as usual, is slagging off Bobby 'one brow'. The team from the S4C current affairs program 'HENO' are on the City's streets and take a few shots of us with Big John and, later in the day, track our movements around the many public houses. The one thing that does become clear, though, is the players' total lack of respect for the Welsh football manager. In no way does that excuse the inept performance that was to follow...
There were close to 1000 Welsh fans in the Stadio Dell'Ara on this barmy summer evening. The Welsh 'team' (using the word as loosely as possible) did not deserve 1% of the support that was given to them that night. The adopted supporters' anthem 'Men of Harlech' was sung with immense pride for close on two hours. Bloody pathetic; one of the better chances Wales have of qualifying for a major finals goes tits up because some key members of the team don't try a leg, seemingly in an attempt to embarrass the manager into resigning. Thanks a lot, you selfish bastards!!!
Word in the pub later is the BG has quit. These reports are later confirmed. I personally thought BG would have done a half-decent job in charge of the team but his naivety at this level of football was cruelly exposed after a variety of public disagreements with a number of players brought into question his ability to manage an international soccer team. I feel BG seen himself as some sort of Brian Clough figure in his attitude but, unlike 'old big 'ead' he couldn't quite just pull it off, even failing miserably on quite a number of occasions by making a total arse of himself.
The night deteriorated away with the wee small hours being spent with Alan Prickett in a transvestite bar (no connection) in the 'seedier' part of the city. The decision to head back to the Hotel was taken when a 'person' in the bar with 'electric' blue bobbed hair, high heels and an Adam's apple started giving me the eye...
The only highlights of the journey home were discussing travel arrangements for the now vital 'home' game with Denmark at Anfield the following Wednesday and watching the President getting progressively drunker, culminating in his physical & verbal abuse of the Stansted bus transit system, the Pink Elephant.
With Denmark now finding their form in this ever changing Group 1 qualifying pool, will the now managerless Wales be able to lift themselves for the challenge ahead???

Issue 09 online

2008-10-26T20:25:00.000Z

http://publishing.yudu.com/Library/Asse9/DialMIssue09/resources/index.htm

Bad Middle Names - First in a series of one

2008-10-19T20:18:00.003+01:00

Paul RONALD Keddle and Michael RONALD Jones. Merthyr's Two Ronnies.

GLADIATORS a tale from the end of the last millennium

2008-10-19T13:52:00.001+01:00

The site of the Roman fortress is where the Coliseum of Penydarren Park now stands. Many gladiators have graced this magnificent monument that was subsequently reconstructed for a battle with a European legion from the land of Julius Caesar.
There are numerous tales told of the great gladiators and their generals who have graced the Emperors colours of black and white. The battles fought on the sacred turf of Penydarren Park have led to many spoils of war by the eleven gladiators that have been selected to represent our great legions.
There were times when the Emperor was good, innovative, gentle, wise and most of all a great leader of men. Most people knew that the poor folk called supporters were the lifeblood of the kingdom that surrounded the sacred turf of the Coliseum, without whom nothing would exist, but very few listened to their wisdom, and very few still do.
Sometimes the Emperor was unwise, being short sighted and only looking for his own glorification and after his own interests. He would rule with an iron fist and no one else would be allowed an opinion.
The legions have seen many fallow years when battles have been lost when they should have been won. Gladiators have been of poor quality and even poor in battle. But sometimes there were periods of celebration, generally after the Emperor has found a new soothsayer, who has also found a new general for his gladiators, men of astute knowledge, with qualities of leadership that far surpass that possessed by mere mortal men like you or I.
Then one day during a dark period there came a man with a ghostly silver mane. A wise and cunning soothsayer, who gathered around him gladiators of the highest quality and a General that organised everything. The silver haired soothsayer made the Martyrs a team of repute, a team feared throughout the land and eventually even on foreign battlefields. He delved deep into the magic realms, fighting many a battle with the powers at the Coliseum, arguing his case for what he thought would make the Martyrs a great side once again. Both the poor folk and the rich people of the kingdom flocked to the Coliseum to witness the wondrous deeds that their gladiators performed, climbing up into the top battlefield of the Conference.
After years of poverty, working together the soothsayer and the Emperor who implemented his own fiscal policies, reaped many rewards for the Martyrs that initially led to great success. But there was resentment with the awe in which the soothsayer was held by the poor folk and he was eventually replaced, this came about with great sadness and had a profound long-term effect. Then during time of famine the poor folk eventually drove the Emperor out of the Coliseum, and as the years went by each Emperor tried to discover ways of making the kingdom safe for eternity.
Many are the celebrations that this great volume of verse has previously re-counted, bountiful were the good times for the poor folk, bright was the clear blue sky above and the future looked virtuous. But then my friends the hardship of reality was upon us as once again as times began to change.
So great were the powers of the silver haired soothsayer, that some thought of him as an alchemist (certainly some of his gladiators possessed magical powers), that he returned to the Coliseum and battled on but times went from bad to worse. The power of the soothsayer began to wane, the poor folk began to moan and whinge (so nothing different there than) and a bitter and twisted power struggle for control of the Coliseum nearly brought the realm to its knees and his downfall was due to political intrigue.
But another great soothsayer came from across Offa’s Dyke and tried his best on two separate occasions to restore success to the Coliseum but he experienced problems with the two Emperors who squabbled over the kingdom and he to fell by the wayside.
In the last two calendar periods, soothsayers have arrived from the Vale of Ebbw, the capital of the Kingdom, a disciple from the PFA and one again from the wrong side of Offa’s Dyke. But the poor folk who visit the Coliseum have witnessed only gladiators that have battled against a tide of poor performances. The Martyrs who were once great and proud face humiliation and journeys along Fosse Way and Watling Street to the wilderness long since erased from the memories of the dark distant past.
Fear not though, keen supporter, whether we all be poor folk, for one day soon another great soothsayer will rise up backed by the wise and benevolent Emperor who will emulate and exceed those feats of yesteryear. I pray that this is so.
Predicting the future is extremely difficult but by gazing into your crystal ball you may see a gladiator before you now, even though he may not be wearing the true colours of black and white, who will lead the Martyrs through many glorious battles. But there are very few certainties in this life and we can have no right to succeed. This will only be achieved through hard work and honest endeavour.
With the dawn of the new millennium the responsibility for maintaining the success of the gladiatorial amphitheatre is ours. A word of warning to you all. Unless we bring to our Coliseum that has witnessed such joy and misery, that knows all of the hymns of your fathers and your father’s fathers, our sons and daughters and their sons and daughters week after week to enjoy the spectacle laid before us, the dynasty will die.
It is people like you that are the ones that really count. It is your memories of the Coliseum that is the encouragement for the future. It is the hymns of past and future battles, the tears of joy and sorrow, the tales of yesteryear upon which the foundations of our great club are based. Its tradition is its life and you are its blood.
Emperors and soothsayers will come and go, but through the families of our community we will ensure that the crest of the Martyr of Tydfil will survive throughout the next millennium.
This I know to be the truth.
Spartacus

Issue 08 online

2008-10-19T13:46:00.001+01:00

Issue 08 is now online.....

http://publishing.yudu.com/Library/Asse8/DialMIssue08/resources/index.htm

Coming soon

2008-10-19T13:43:00.000+01:00

Funky sheep T-Shirts

Welsh Film Remakes

2008-10-17T08:23:00.004+01:00

Dial M For Merthyr, the title is a spin on the film title, so this inspired a few more.

Here's the list;
9½ Leeks
Trefforest Gump
Cwmando
The Lost Boyos
An American Werewolf in Powys
Huw Dares Gwyneth
Dai Hard
The Wizard of Oswestry
Cool Hand Look-you
Sheepless in Seattle
The Eagle has Llandudno
The Magnificent Severn
Haverfordwest Was Won
Austin Powys
The Magic Rhonddabout
Independence Dai
The Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch That Time Forgot
Seven Brides from Seven Sisters
The Bridge on the River Wye
A Beautiful Mind-you
Don't look Back in Bangor
Evans Can Wait
A Fishguard Called Rhondda
Where Eagles Aberdare

God's Country - Part one in an occasional series

2008-10-15T19:08:00.003+01:00

Moppy and Wolvesy in Dusseldorf this morning.

Election news

2008-10-15T19:02:00.002+01:00

With Dial M having filled three berths on Merthyr council this year and with another by-election being fought by another member of the Dial M Party in two weeks, we are proud to announce that Hulby is also in the running for election as the next President of the USA. This Channel 3 report from the US charts how Nigel was plucked from obscurity to be a serious contender to McCain and Obama.

http://www.tsgnet.com/pres.php?id=370743&altf=Ojhfm&altl=Ivmcfsdijop

Issue 07 online

2008-10-13T22:37:00.001+01:00

http://publishing.yudu.com/Library/Aslg2/DialMIssue07/resources/index.htm

Game On!

2008-10-13T22:29:00.000+01:00

After two draws and two defeats the omens weren't looking good for a trip to Jenner Park in the quarter-final of the BBC Sports Department Flagship Tournament. Barry Town, about to retain their League of Wales title by a another massive margin, had scored 100+ league goals with Eifion Williams and Darren Ryan regularly on the score sheet. They had experienced players running through their squad. Recently though there had been a few hiccups: draws against Ebbw Vale and Rhayader Town had sown the seeds of doubt in the professional players minds, would they cope with Mitchell and Cohen’s pace? Could they penetrate the mean defending machine, marshalled by the revelation of the season - Neil O’Brien? The match, being screened live by BBC Wales, turned into a cracker. The Dial "M" Party Posse assembled at the now customary Twynyrodyn watering hole, The Baili Glas Inn, landlady Marilyn promised the boys curry and chips on return from the game. Quick pints, minibus arrives, traffic jams reached by Treforrest, lost in Barry, Hulby gets the blame as normal. Eventually arrive 6.40 p.m: game already started. A quick scan of the security surrounds of Jenner Park reveals my complimentary ticket to the match. A road sign bunks me up over the fence and under the barbed-wire, whilst an overturned wheelbarrow reduces the strain on my ankles as I land inside the Park. The Belly Boys: Baldy & Butch Dingle, follow my lead with Tim being the only payer. The ground is full: unfortunately full of under 14 year olds. A bit of a pisser really as most Merthyr fans go to watch football at Penydarren Park to get away from the everyday nagging of partners and children, to get a bit of piece and quite really. The game itself was superb. Barry players were all very comfortable on ball but I don’t think that they expected such stubborn resistance from a resolute Merthyr team. Neil Thomas was solid in goal. Abraham and O’Brien’s arial prowess combined with the 100% dog of Barnhouse. Wigley and Willo restricted the Barry attack to very few clear cut chances. Everyone in midfield worked hard for the full match, with Lossy excelling on his return to Jenner Park. Summers of course scored the all important winner and also came close for the Martyrs on numerous other occasions. So the unexpected had become reality. A win against Barry Town at Fortress Jenner. Here’s hoping for a final with Newtown so that the Merthyr fans can really "C the C" just to piss off Gavin Grosvenor and the rest of the vast Newtown (boring as Barnsley) tossers.

Dial M - Jib Jab fun - 2006

2008-10-13T08:51:00.004+01:00

Typey, Wolvesey, Myton, Hulby and Wingnut get the Jib Jab treatment in 2007. Very funny.
http://sendables.jibjab.com/view/Y7G5lxR6GDlqXJZm

What the ****ing hell are you wearing

2008-10-10T17:55:00.003+01:00

Well done to Stade de France for this horror kit. Merthyr's 1995 testcard kit has finally been surpassed.

IT'S JUST LIKE WATCHING.....TELETEXT?!?

2008-10-06T20:33:00.001+01:00

I was sat there watching the telly, just me and my woman sitting there relaxed, the only thing spoiling the chilled atmosphere is me switching back and forth from Page 307 of Ceefax, no score, no worries, just a rush of adrenalin each time the pages scroll through to that page, 0-1, Mitchell, me bouncing around the room, to the fridge, a couple of tins, BBC2, The Outer Limits - shit programme, back to the Ceefax, 1-1, Drewitt - I knew it, you don't release players of his enthusiasm and commitment, still it's a point, back to the outer limits and some stupid scientist morality tale.
9.47pm, I scroll through to page 307, "come on boys, a last minute winner " eh 2-1, not for them , Stafford win in last minute, depressed, back to fridge, clear the stock of lager, slumped and dazed, appeal to the great Chairman in the sky who replies, "I sent you Addison, what more do you want?"

PURPLE CONES

Tired and Weary - 2000

2008-10-06T20:30:00.000+01:00

With growing financial problems, dwindling crowds and an alarming lack of interest, is it time for one of the remaining members of the original "irate eight" to cut their losses, admit they were wrong and return "home" with their tail between their legs?
At approximately 9.10 pm on February 16th 2000, Andy Morrell slotted home his seventh and Wrexham's eighth goal of the evening to round off a miserable and totally unjustifiably embarrassing night for Merthyr Tydfil Football Club and their dwindling band of supporters. I say evening but could easily have said season. I could have taken a broader view and said the last five years or so. The stark truth is that there is a strong possibility that our team could be playing Western Division football next year. From what I've seen this season we are certainly not too good to go down.
There should be no excuses for what happened at the Racecourse Ground. The result was just a culmination of the mis-management and general apathy that has dogged the club for the latter part of the last decade. The club has side stepped from one catastrophe to another. From threats of closure to relegation. Despite the new ownership at the club, (who in fairness have not had sufficient time to right the wrongs at the club), we could well find ourselves back in the same position footballing wise that we were thirteen years ago. Paget Rangers away anyone?
I remember an Alun Evans article in the Western Mail some years ago stating that economically, Merthyr would eventually be forced to join the League of Wales. It seems that he could be right after all.
The fact is that we have not progressed at all in the last decade. Penydarren Park is almost identical to what it was in 1987. The team is far, far worse than it has been since the early 80's and our support back to the rock bottom hard core of 600. The atmosphere on match days is non-existent. No matter what happens in the near future, whether we win the FA Trophy, promotion to the Conference followed by the League or whether we get relegated to the Western Division, we will find ourselves back here. Merthyr, whilst playing in the English pyramid will always be a Dr. Martens league team.
Merthyr is a Dr. Martens town. Just like Crawley or Atherstone, or Salisbury or Worcester. Anyone who thinks different is surely an eternal optimist. Recent attendance figures for the Conference show record levels of support, the average being 1,600. If you look at the top teams that figure can be doubled. I for one find it very difficult to see a Merthyr team sustain that kind of support for any sort of timescale.
In my opinion, and I know that many Merthyr fans will strongly disagree, there is only one place that we belong; the League of Wales. The time has come for all Welsh clubs to break free from their involvement in English football which has been holding us back for years while the rest of Europe moves on. Imagine a Welsh Premier League (perhaps similar to that in Ireland) with say, (in no particular order) Cardiff, Swansea, Wrexham, Newport, Merthyr, Barry, Cwmbran, Bangor, Aberystwyth, Llanelli etc. Local rivalry. Total media interest in Wales. Media interest from the rest of Europe as a National League. European football every few years. I don't believe for a moment that our crowds wouldn't increase by at least 50% for a home game against any of the above teams, maybe even 150% if we're doing well.
Furthermore, there is a more profound reason for supporting the League of Wales. It would mean us being part of a broader more cosmopolitan European scene, helping to create a style and image of our own. The fact that we are too closely involved with the English game is thwarting football in Wales. Over the last few decades the national team has done very well to even come as close as we have to qualifying for a major tournament. Many people say that we do very well for a small nation. True. But there are countries of a similar size to Wales who do even better. Norway or Denmark. Every other country in the world has a proper national league and it's time to choose which side we are on.
THE PURPLE ELEPHANT

TIM HARRIS - WHAT's THE SCORE? 2000

2008-10-01T22:02:00.001+01:00

They say that revenge is sweet, and it doesn't come any sweeter than our 4-0 hammering of local rivals Newport Gounty on their own patch. With the papers predicting an easy win for the Gwent side, Skywalker's Martyrs turned up cast in the role of lambs to the slaughter. However, this was so far removed from the eventual truth, as the Nike boys handed out a lesson in football to an outclassed and outplayed Newport, which left their manager Tim Harris ln a terrible state. Having had his team reduced to a shambles by the P.P. crew, it was time for Tim to sample some rather large slices of humble pie ... and I bet he enjoyed every mouthful!
From the off, we overwhelmed a bemused County side, winning every 50/50 ball available. Loss, Clarke and Carter controlled the midfield, which released Regan to torment the home defence with his blistering runs down the right flank. When Newport did win some possession, they soon gave it away, which left Thommo, Needs, Lima, Baddeley and Power as virtual spectators. With so much possession ourselves, this constantly kept Newport on the back foot, which enabled our midfield to play quick ball up to Summers and Carter.
Sadly for County, the only reasonable chances they had fell to Garry Sheppard who made no valuable contribution to the game whatsoever. His striking partner Danny Hill was even worse ... and we thought we had problems up front ! At the other end, their defence was completely overrun, as chance after chance was created. Loss was simply awesome, as he controlled the midfield alongside the inspirational ball winner Mr. Clarke. Their dominance in this area was to prove vital .....
Our opening goal was a real gem. Regan collected the ball in his own half, and went on another one of those mercurial runs past the Newport defence, before pulling an inch perfect low cross into the path of Summers who made no mistake from eight yards. This led to some crazy celebrations both on and off the fleld, as a deserved lead was taken. However, before we had time to calm down, we were 2-0 up! Winning the ball out on the right, Lossy swung a high cross into their area, home keeper Pat Mountain and Summers both went for the high cross, and the ball ended up at the feet of Darren Ryan who made no mistake again from eight yards. This led to even more crazy celebrations ... but the best was still to come. With the half coming to an end, Carter was clattered by Thorne right alongside the corner flag. Enter Lee Lee Lee Baddeley! Lossy's perfectly flighted free-kick was met by the head of the centre-half, and the ball thundered into the net ... 3-0, and game over!!
The second half was a much more subdued affair, in that Newport knew that the game was lost, whereas we were content to settle for a three goal lead. Former Martyr, Shaun Chapple was replaced, to a series of boos from the travelling Merthyr crowd ... and by the way, he still won't tackle.
Regan and Summers made way for Mitchell and Perry, and it was the two substitutes who combined to set up our fourth goal in the last minute. Winning the ball on the edge of the box, Perry made a slide rule pass between two County defenders, for Mitchell to finish comfortably from six yards. At the final whistle, mass celebrations had begun amongst the players and fans. However, the demoralised and shell-shocked home side left the field to chants of "what a load of rubbish!" ... and to be honest, that's all their players deserved. I can imagine how they must be feeling, as last Boxing Day springs to mind. One thing is for sure though, we have definitely laid that ghost to rest! I am also delighted for Sky and Gilo, who have put in so much hard work. They had the players prepared both physically and mentally, which proved too much for the home side on the day. Hopefully, we can take this forward for the rest of the season, as we have proved our pedigree when we are top form.
As a die-hard Martyr, this result will take some beating. We have regained some credibility on the Welsh football circuit, and put County firmly in their place. With two DMP games against them still remaining, and a DMC game to be played away, there is plenty to look forward to. Admittedly, we have no chance of winning the competition but to the players and fans alike, our cup final took place at Spytty Park on 30th September 2000 and we won 4-0 !!!
An emotional Llama, 09.19 hours on 2nd October 2000
LLama

Issue 06 online

2008-09-29T21:13:00.000+01:00

http://publishing.yudu.com/Library/Aquyf/DialMIssue06/resources/index.htm

MILAN - Italy versus Wales

2008-09-29T20:13:00.001+01:00

The big one had arrived and it was off to Milan - officially pronounced Meeelan. Five of us set out from the Jewel of the Valley at 2pm on Friday. Having properjobs we couldn't get away days earier. By the time we left the Pearl the Dial M posse were on te train back from Bergamo. As we left we knew that the club's erstwhile Secretary (Pughy), would be waiting at the bar of the Hotel with a beer for us. The only problem we had now would be with our ticket bookings. Myself, Dan, Noddy (who’d be dubbed The Major later that night by a drunken North Walian), Spike and my ‘Paul Hunt’ lookalike brother hit Heathrow at 5pm knowing that we had 2 hours of Calsberg supping before flight time. A shake of the head at the check-in desk alerted me to the fact that my online booking was turning into shit. Without flight tickets the weekend was going to be a tad shorter than I'd antticipated - I hit the ticket desk and seek out someone sensible. His names David (a good Welsh name) and five minutes before the gate is shut - and we are forced to return to Wales, I have five boarding passes in my mits. Relief is not the word!! In the 90 minutes it took to sort this out, our plight has made it on to the train from Bergamo to Milan and Pughy is full of words of discomfort whilst I can hear Hulby roaring with laughter in the background at my misfortune - fuckers I thought.

We hit the bar and sink a swift one in less than two minutes. It’s straight onto the plane, where within half an hour we realise there is no beer left on board. This just about sets the tone for the next few days. At Malpensa airport we go in search of a bus to the city, the search looks in vain until ‘Hunty’ spots a dragon at the back of a coach. Within seconds were aboard and hotel bound. Now the coach in costs 3 Euros to go 20 miles, yet the three miles from the station to the hotel costs us 20. Maths not being my strong point, I pay, tell the drive that I'll see him next Tuesday, greet the Sec and hit the bar. My round I proclaim and the 6 beers are mine. I’m 30 Euros lighter for the experience, a harsh lesson learnt.

Matchday starts with Pughy confesssing to spending much of the previous day on a Bergamo bus when the female driver forgot to tell him when he had reached the Atalanta Stadium and took him all the way from one end of the city to the other. At the bus station the sec was the only person still sitting on the bus and the driver was quite embarressed for him. The transport system in Milan is great, It’s clean, punctual, direct and most importantly in the case of us Welsh people FREE. Top Class! We’re off to town with some fears in the backs of our minds. We heard stories last night of how Newport and Swansea fans had formed a WWF tag team pact to run the mightly Bluebirds out of the central square. Talk of stabbings, arrests and a murder are not what you want to hear. Nevertheless, once were in the town the atmosphere is quite jovial. After a trip aroud the sites - the Cathedral, La Scala and some shops. Dan get’s himself an Atalanta shirt and Pughy bags one for Wingnut A McDonalds is consummed and our thoughts turn to some entertainment.

The shops are not my thing, but Female Beach Volley Ball is right up there at the top of the list. Cue the ladies!!! The Italian Open was in town and first up was France versus Germany. The french go off like a train, but the Germans just know that they are going to nick it on penalties again. And after an 11-6 half time lead the ‘Hot’ French girls blow it to the nasty looking girls from Munich. The demograph of the crowd would be mirrored at the San Siro later that evening - some how I knew that the second half would the key to the day. With all that sitting in the sun (drooling), the need for a beer hit us, so we hit a bar only to find that beer was banned in the city. But us Welsh are resilient people so we headed for the Castle - bypassing the museum and sculptures and sought out the hot dog vans. A Litre of Heineken for 3 Euros and the day was getting much better. I don’t know if the lager gave us a shot of courage, but Spike insisted we went up the 108 Metre high tower to get a good look at the city. I swear by the time the lift hit the top my legs were like jelly. A few pictures and a swift exit and it was back to the park for a sit under the trees. Bliss...... My thoughts turned to Weymouth.

By the time I’d finished my drink Merthyr were 2-0 down and as Pughy put it “Good Night Vienna”. Talk turned to David Blaine’s next feat of endurance - Giving him a season ticket at the Park was suggested. A stroll back to the hotel for a quick change would take our minds off things. Pughy was doing the stats at the stadium for the Western Mail and was meeting Mark Bloom at the Cathedral, so we were down to five. No sooner had he gone the phone went and news of a ‘Tez goal lifted the spirits. I was the only one who had hopes of an equaliser and my faith was rewarded as we got to the hotel, Simon Heal had scored in the 93rd minute, I was really up for the big one now. After a trip to the supermarket for some after match refreshments, we got the ‘free’ bus to the stadium. Darkness was drawing in and the mood had changed.

If I was looking for trouble I didn’t expect it in the form of a 60 year old woman, but the saucy old bat decided she’d try and lift my wallet from my shorts. Now I don't condone hitting women, especially pensioners, but I make exceptions when she's got her hands around my beer money. A beginners guide to basic Welsh vocabulary followed, plus a quick right hand that Joe Calzaghe would have been proud of and my new mafia friend gave a shrug of the shoulders and stumbled off to find her next potential client. I made a note to myself to check for horses heads in bed later that night. The San Siro is regarded as one of the world’s finest grounds, but I’m sure the away end must have more than the one gate and the one staircase, that all 8,000 Welsh fans had to use. This ground is a potentail death trap, make no bones about it. If we were fearful about getting in to the ground, the following three hours lived up to all the pre match billing. Off the field we were all penned in below the Italian fans and the Azzurri took great delight in throwing bottles at us, generally spitting and a few relieved themselves over the balcony - What a welcome!!!. The police looked on and did nothing. To add to the problems there was no stewarding at all, allocated seats went by the wayside and the less friendly elements of the Welsh following were baying for blood. A commotion over seating starts up next to me some bloke insists we’re all in his seats - it’s a blotto Dai Webb, he joins the gang, his equally drunk batman Tony follows and tales of the day are swapped.

On the field Wales took the game to the home side and for 35 minutes looked like getting three points let alone the one we would have all settled for. Mark Delaney partnered Page in defence and the Villa man played brilliantly. Koumas slotted into Midfield as Simon Davies had to cover for Delaney at full back. Johnny Harts upfront was imense and an upset looked likely. It was only in the last ten minutes of the half was it apparent that the home side had a touch of class. The second half started much the same a the first had ended with Italy in full comand and the torrent of missiles getting more numerous. From 64 - 80 minutes Italy scored 4 times. Inzahghi took a superb hat trick within nine minutes and Del Piero capped a fine display with a penalty his performance thoroughly deserved. Somewhere between the 2nd and 4th all hell broke loose and some of the Welsh boys decided to take on the riot police. The ugly scenes that followed got the blood rushing and we nearly pissed ourselves when we saw members of Merthyr's Travel Club legging it up the staircase away from the epicentre of the violence.

A full hour after the game and we left the stadium to find that we’re all miles from the city centre and hotels area, the lack of transport is not funny. The last bus is a 12.45am, the stop is outside what looks like a large mental hospital and we wait for it by talking to a Romanian vagrant about Georgi Hagi - we get the feeling this is going to be another near yet so far adventure. Formations and players for today’s game were discussed. What position should Simon Heal be playing? Does Typey look like Gary Speed? Is Dowlais bigger than Luxembourg? Dan forgets The Major’s nickname and calls him the Colonel - he get’s that nickname all for himself. We get back to the hotel by 1.30, knowing that we’re up at 6am to get to the airport.

After what seems like a minute of sleep were in the Taxi - the drivers opeing gambit is “Inzaghi”, my reply is "F*!% OFF", so the remainder of the journey is in a tense silence. We amuse our selves in the airport by taunting my brother as the rest of us had been upgraded to Business class, things had improved from the outward bound flight. Whilst at Heathrow we try some Jackass type foolery on the travelators. By lunchtime I’m in Baverstocks having dinner with the family and the whole experience is a distant memory. Now who’s for a play off game in Istanbul????

Dr Obnoxious

Issue 05 online

2008-09-24T08:48:00.001+01:00

http://publishing.yudu.com/Library/Aquye/DialMIssue05/resources/index.htm

Apologies for the quality of this one, but it was originally shite and there was 2 blank pages in the copy I had. Typical!!

The Slate-1993

2008-09-22T23:19:00.007+01:00

In 1993, BBC Wales arts programme 'The Slate' did a short piece on Football fanzines. Of course Dial M for Merthyr were very much centre of things. A youthful Wolvesy did the team proud.

Issue 04 online

2008-09-22T21:20:00.001+01:00

http://publishing.yudu.com/Library/Aqqb6/DialMIssue04/resources/index.htm

SAY IT AIN'T SO, JIMMY? Newport.Pt1

2008-09-22T21:10:00.001+01:00

It's been the match that has stood out for all Martyrs fans since the season started, another opportunity to educate our neighbours from Gwent in the social etiquette of non-league football. Our chance to provide their supporters with the fundamental requirements for football at our level; hospitality in our clubhouse, four sides to a ground with no segregation (and no crowd trouble). What we couldn't rely on was what would happen on the lush green lawn that is Penydarren Park. It had been a tidy Christmas but to be honest it was all going to be little more than a warm-up for the main event; Merthyr Tydfil -vrs- Newport County.

I'm glad they've adopted their old name, it just seems more honest and gives a historical edge to matches. Against my better judgement I felt quietly confident about the encounter, the Martyrs record against the Gwenties isn't very good but recent performances if not results had been encouraging with the lads attempting to play a passing game whenever possible. Upon arrival at Penydarren Park, the clubhouse was there before me; A beacon of welcome to the lost souls who have kept the faith in North Glamorgan. Time for a quick pint before the main event, it was good to see both sets of supporters mixing before the match. A cold can of Carling later and out to the most revered piece of real estate in world football; the Wank Bank. It never disappoints me, whenever I enter this haven of football passion I can sense the previous generations of Merthyr supporters before me moaning and heckling the referee whatever the state of play. Long may those traditions continue.

A l pm kick-off; now for those Newport fans reading this I must advise that I am using the verb "to kick-off' in the traditional start of a match sense and not in the Spytty Park 1995 version of events. So most of the talk around me was of the session after the match and where we would end up at the end of the night, the Baili Glas being the favourite. The main body of the Newport support was directly in front of the DMFM posse during the first half so we had to endure the continual dirge of "Cum'on Newpoooor!" But worse was to follow as the Martyrs makeshift defence collapsed under the pressure of Bayliss & Dale and the goals started at the Theatre End. So you have stand there and take it, fair enough but what was not on was a brief outbreak of racism mid way through the first half when Cohen made a run in front of the Wank Bank. Subsequently, I have been informed through the mailing list of the Merthyr web-site that other Newport County supporters have identified the muppet responsible for the racism and have appealed for information on his identity, it's absolutely brilliant to see supporters taking that kind of direct action. Not even a couple of cups of the strongest tea in the world could lift the gloom as the Gwenties totally dominated the first forty-five minutes.

At half time I would have settled for the 0-3 scoreline as a result. Newport were too strong in all departments for a surprisingly lacklustre Merthyr team, Lee Jarman was experiencing a baptism of fire especially from the impressive Carl Dale who was unstoppable. Those of us on the Theatre End at the start of the second half were pretty much resigned to a heavy defeat and then the Martyrs scored. Now I can cope with losing pretty well, I'm a Merthyr fan after all, but it's the hope that gets to you. It was 1-3, could we get it back? The Martyrs were a different side, more direct, playing with passion, what was next? An amazing Carl Dale volley that flew past Neil Thomas that's what. I experienced a moment of calmness as I watched the Newport supporters celebrating in the Wank Bank, an out of body experience. Why don't Merthyr compete in derby matches? We lost to Barry Town and Cardiff City earlier on.

The Jenner Park experience only improved by the lack of their junior ninjas; Flying cans etc. The black humour was flowing around me, a dog was trying to get on the pitch. People were trying to help the canine intervention. Even that didn't go to plan. then, the Martyrs get another. Chaos, celebrations, dancing. Hope springs eternal, and that's the problem. I can cope with defeat but we'd got another chance, everyone's up for a revival. The Martyrs press on without really causing Pat Mountain any problems. You get a really good view down the Penydarren Park pitch towards the Chapel End from the Theatre End, so we could all watch as Merthyr's wall fell apart to allow a straight driven free kick to fly in past Neil Thomas to finally settle the match. That really summed up the match, Newport's determination only matched by the Martyrs' capitulation. The joy of non-league football, after match pints in your own clubhouse. Time to reflect on the match, the Strikers club full, plenty of cash going over the bar, Newport and Merthyr fans together, no problems, let's hope we get the same hospitality for the return match at Spytty Park. Walking round the town later that evening you could spot the Martyrs faithful by their desperate attempts to prise some positives from yet another derby defeat, it's amazing how easy it is for Carling Black Label to cure a broken heart.
Chairman Mao

Madrid 2007 - Chairman Mao's Stag

2008-09-18T22:13:00.035+01:00

Just look at this Liverpool fans - this lot have got 9 of them. That's what you call History.

The Santiago Bernabeu

The Madrid Ultras, who we got to meet up close shortly after this. The ones in the black shirts real sh!t me up. They were well up for it and a little scary.

The Real Madrid bench was looking a bit ropey at the end of the 2007 season.
Wolvesy's stag line up: Knighty, The Brown Baron, Owens, BOB, Suntan Sammy, The Groom, Lukey, Rusty and Wingnut. Myself and Hulbachino out of shot.
Click pictures to enlarge.

Dial M for MERTHYR - The birth, death and rebirth

2008-09-18T22:13:00.033+01:00

Above are some of the Dial M troop - Wolvesy, Mytton, Hulby, Wingnut and Typey.

The sight of two portly gentlemen wandering around Briton Ferry's pitch on a warm afternoon in August 1989 carrying a box must have seemed a bit strange to those Merthyr supporters who were there to witness a pre-Conference season friendly match, especially so when those two Merthyr lads proceeded to sell a new magazine "written by the fans, for the fans!".

The cover above is from the first edition after we dumped local rivals Newport out of the FA Cup. The header reflected the scoreline of the match.

This was the birth of the Dial M For Merthyr fanzine. It was the era of Thatcher and her ridiculous ID cards for football, Colin Moynihan and Hillsborough. The football authorities seemed powerless to stop the rot. The renaissance of the national game began not from the comfy surrounds of the boardrooms but from the terraces, the rise of the Football Supporters Association under Rogan Taylor coupled with the explosion of the football fanzine movement ensured that for the first time the voice of the ordinary fan was being heard. Fanzines such as Orientear (Orient), The Pie (Notts County) and When Saturday Comes were an inspiration to supporters all over the country who had something to say about their clubs and how they were run. Merthyr was to be no exception, our rise from the Midland Division to the Conference via Welsh Cup Final and Atalanta had been covered in general by a media only interested in patronising cliché with no real insight into this resurrection of this once proud club. Merthyr joined the football revolution with the establishment of Dial M For Merthyr, the first issue was photocopied one evening in Merthyr Law Courts whilst Rob Parker kept an eye out for the security guard. It was a rough side-stapled affair but its initial print run of 300 soon sold out as this new addition to Penydarren Park caught the imagination of the Merthyr supporters pouring into the ground for those early exciting matches in the Conference. 14 years later and 46 editions of the fanzine have been produced, even though sales were banned from Penydarren Park on two separate occasions, along the way Dial M For Merthyr has attempted to champion the cause of supporting the biggest club in the Valleys, its been reviewed in The Guardian, Daily Telegraph and Mail on Sunday, its attracted BBC cameras to cover Merthyr fans at a rain-soaked Vetch Field and radio crews to seek our opinions at Penydarren Park.

But it's been a long time since that naïve first issue and thankfully the coverage of football and of its lifeblood; the fans, has improved dramatically. The enthusiasm and flair displayed by those early fanzines has now been absorbed by mainstream publishing resulting in the current glut of magazines devoted to the game of football, the choice being endless from World Soccer to United We Stand.

The emergence of web-site message boards, chat rooms and mailing lists coupled with radio phone-in shows has provided an instant release for the disgruntled football fan of today so where does this leave one of the catalysts of this new era, the fanzine? To be honest, it has made producing Dial M For Merthyr increasingly difficult so much so that it's Christmas and only now the first issue of the current season will have been on sale. As a result the issue on sale today will be the last issue of the fanzine for the foreseeable future, it's been proved that Merthyr supporters can produce quality creative writing if the need arises, perhaps next season's promotion to the Conference will provide a fresh impetus for a new breed of fanzine writers.

Since this article ran in the matchday programme in December 2003 there have been more issues of Dial M and we've even found our own area in Cyberspace - it's in the blood and it aint going away.

WOLVESY

No Tea Party at Boston

2008-09-18T21:18:00.000+01:00

Last Saturday (29-Jan) the Martyrs travelled to Lincolnshire to meet the DML league leaders Boston United. Today's fixture, at home to Burton Albion, will be the first game MTFC will have played since the 4-1 trouncing at York Sheet. But do not be too disheartened, my friend, last Saturday was not as bad as the scoreline suggests.
For the DMFM crew this was the away fixture of the season. League leaders at their excellent York Sheet home coupled with the prospect of a major Saturday night SESH in Peterboro' afterwards. Quiet roads and some manic driving from Dai Jizz softened the journey up. Nottingham was reached in just over two hours but it took another 2 hours to get to Boston from this point, mainly due to the various tractors/combine harvesters/road sweepers that we got stuck behind on the A~2. Boston was reached at around midday. It was good to see another car full (Julie Martin's gang) arrive just after us as, due to a lack of numbers, the Supporters club were unable to run a coach to the game, which was extremely disappointing. The town centre was visited for a sweaty breakfast to line our stomachs for the long day ahead. Then, blind optimism struck. One member of the posse was convinced, after a dream they had on New Years Eve, that the Martyrs were going to win 3-0. A quick look in Corals' showed that Merthyr were 7-1 just for a win and 100-1 was offered on a 3-0 victory, A total sum of £7-50 was wagered on the two bets, together with a deep-sea diver on that night's lottery. We were convinced that by 8-l5pm that night we were going to be millionaires and The Martyrs would be 3 points closer to the Scum. As 1 said. Blind optimism...
One thing that must be said about Boston, it's like Beverly Hillbilly country! These tossers have the cheek to call us sheepshaggers. Cheeky bastards. A pint was had in the local JD Wetherspoon's - this place was a cross between Buffaloes and the Martyrs Club, Galon Uchaf. So, common sense soon prevailed and a return was made to the football clubhouse, for a game of cards and some pre-match gossip.
The game started extremely brightly for us; as a Craven corner (sounds like a Sunday morning wildlife show with namesake John) was slickly headed home by Lee Jarman to send the handful of Merthyr fans delirious.
But with the galeforce wind behind our backs, The Martyrs couldn't maintain this early spell. of pressure and by the interval were 3-1 down. Seamus Kelly, making his debut, had a nightmare for the second, and especially, the third goal. A nice touch from Cohen at half time saw the tireless wingback give the Irishman a consoling cwch! What a nice guy!
Ten minutes into the second half and it was 41 with Walker and Kelly leaving a left wing cross for each other. The Boston attacker wasn't so generous with his precision header. But, apart from these four efforts from the Pilgrims, they didn't really have another shot on target, whereas Merthyr had a number of efforts well saved by United's keeper Paul Bastock. The difference between the two sides was that their forwards took their chances whilst we had Gary Shepherd leading our line.
One of the most disappointing aspects of the day was the lack of support from South Wales. There was a maximum of 20 Merthyr fans at the ground, which was piss poor for such a `big' game. The United fans were also continually telling us how they had the best ground in Non-league football. To be honest they may have held a valid claim ten or fifteen years ago but the ground is starting to look a bit tatty. Unlike PP, there was only one tea bar at the stadium, and the clubhouse had all the atmosphere of the Glove & Shears on a Monday afternoon. PP may not be the best in Non League any more but our catering & social facilities are definitely top of the league.
On departure the Hill-billies wished us a pleasant journey home (albeit via a "Its a long journey home for the sheepshaggers" comment - pot, kettle, black springs to mind, here). But we were not destined for Heaven yet; we had a shedload of booze to drink in the public houses/discotheques of the fine City of Peterboro'. The rest of the evening was spent, quite predictably, drinking far too much, eating stodgy food and ultimately, puking it all back up again. In fact, I still suffered the after effects of the night in most Lay-bys on every road in Northants/Leicestershire etc., during the arduous journey home.
So, before you settle down to watch the Martyrs today, don't be too despondent, last Saturday wasn't that bad, honest!
COME'ON THE MARTYRS, DON'T MAKE ME EAT HUMBLE PIE.

Dr Obnoxious' guide to being happy

2008-09-18T13:50:00.014+01:00

You are depressed and happiness seems impossible but you couldn't be more wrong!. As long as your depression is not due to a chemical imbalance, which is often not the case (It is where Typey is concerned - the chemical being lager) these steps will help you feel happier by breaking your negative thought and the hold it has over you.

SEVEN steps to being happier

Gratitude
Think of your life right now. What good things are there to be thankful for? Start listing them on a piece of paper or just go over them in your head. The fact that you can find many positive things in your life no matter how depressed you may feel is comforting and will change your mood.
Example - You don't owe the bank 100s of thousands personally. The bank will not be repossessing your house soon will he? Also you were able to watch a pulsating 90 minutes of FA Cup football on Saturday - 3 goals, 2 sendings off. OK they were all against us, but it was entertaining. There you go, feeling better already aren't we.

Pause in the Moment
If you stop for one moment and forget the future and the past and concentrate on now, look around and ask yourself what is everything like now, you will see that there are no problems or worries in the present. Bring yourself into this present and forget everything else at least for as long as you can.
Example - We didn't lose a game today, it's Thursday. In the league table of 'today only', we're a comfotable mid table team (albeit alphabetically). Nobody was laughing at our inability to defend today, we tight at the back and nobody could score aginst us. Go Merthyr!!!

What if...?
What if you get that job you want? What if you make a new friend? What if everything goes well? What if and then something positive is mind changing! Instead of you always thinking negatively you will begin to expect something positive. Change can be good...
Example - What if the board at MTFC are right and there really is nothing to worry about. Who knows in 7 seasons time we could be playing Champions League football. What if there is a special booby prize of a million quid if you conceed over 150 goals this season. We'll be in god's pocket soon - I promise you!!

At least..
No matter how bad things appear you can always find a positive. Try adding at least to the end of your sentences when you here yourself begin to complain. I am fed up with my job but at least the hours are flexible. He talks too much but at least he is honest. This also will help you to think more positively. Depression makes everything black and this technique can help bring in a little light.
Example - At least the clumbsy keeper can't cost us three points this coming weekend as we've sacked him. At least your going to die at some point and the never ending gloom that is being a Merthyr fan will cease at that point. It's not so bad fella, is it?

Stop saying I can't
Realize that there are few things you can't do mostly what you are saying is that you don't want to do something. Examine why this is so - is it fear? Start correcting your statements and also those you tell yourself. you will be more happy as a result.
Example - We don't want to win games this season and are losing them as a reaction to society and the pressure it puts on kids to be winners. We've adopted the Corinthian ideals of taking part and fairplay to all. We are a beacon to the halceon days of the 1890's. Play up Merthyr, play up.

Start imagining things improving
What you can see as possible, is possible. If you dream something you can make it real. The only thing stopping you is your thinking and your fear. As soon as you think things can improve and you have the power to change your mood will be lighter and happiness much closer.
Example - Think of doing something else on a Saturday. Get a girlfriend, take her to the cinema. If you can't pull yourself away from football then maybe stay in the house and watch Jeff Stelling - just look away if the results at the bottom start with BGB FT .

Decide to be happier
Sounds too easy but yes you can decide to be happy or unhappy now! Decide to change what you can and accept what you can't and decide to be happy and more positive. You will weaken the grip that depression has over you.
Example - Basicly get a fu*king life you saddos and enter the real world. It's only football and our part is to be rubbish at it. Life in the Western Division was just as much fun, the football as nothing to do with it and is just a distraction. Have a beer and forget about it. In fact have more than one.

I hope this was of use and it's pulled all you Merthyr fans away from the edge of the chasm of depression that is MTFC. If this doesn't work - just think, you could be one of the inbred three armed bog monster supporters of Newport County. There you go, you just cracked a smile.
Dr Obnoxious

Dial M - Issue 03 and a half online

2008-09-16T20:53:00.004+01:00

http://publishing.yudu.com/Aq8la/DialMIssue03andahalf/resources/index.htm

And a special bonus posting this week. Dial M for Merthyr issues 3 and a half.

Everyone is reading it you know;
" Was I supposed to have saved that boss? Can't you see I'm trying to read Dial M" - Scott Allison at Poole on Saturday.

"I'll take care of business in a minute, let me just finish reading Dial M" - Chuck Chuck head of Lehman Brothers.

" Now F*$k off out of my office Tosh - I'm reading Dial M". - Dave Jones.

Dial M - Issue 03 online

2008-09-16T20:47:00.000+01:00

http://publishing.yudu.com/Aq8l9/DialMIssue03/resources/index.htm

Dial M issue 03 is now online.

Bright and Breezy

2008-09-16T18:49:00.000+01:00

The Dial M group assembled at Anthea's cafe at Bro Dawel with the news of the Newport deals fresh from the press. Shepherd in exchange for our old friend Clarkey, it seems good business to me.
Gary Shep has never really caught the imagination of the Martyrs fans, we've been used to players like Paul Caviel and more recently Phil Green who always gave everything for the black & white shirt no matter what the occasion. It was never a matter of confidence for these players but more of pride in the Merthyr shirt.
Gary Shep is capable of getting goals, his goal at Ninian Park in the FAW Premier Cup being one of the best of this season, an exquisite header showing that he can finish. Maybe a change of scenery will suit him, let's hope he doesn't finally get going at Spytty Park on April 24th, irony? Don't get me started. I only hope that by the time that this issue appears that Darren Ryan has returned from his loan deal at the Gwenties a favourite of this publication who hasn't seemed to have been given a fair crack at the team. Darren buys his round, a true gent.
The departure of Shep brings back Dean Clarke to Penydarren Park, to be honest he's just the type of player required during a relegation battle, a real competitor in the midfield designed to win the ball, his partnership with Lossy could provide vital in the coming months. We need a supply from which Danny Carter and Cohen Griffith can create chances. It would seem that Jimmy Mullen is finally beginning to shape the squad that he requires' for a promotion push next season hopefully it won't be to regain our place in this division.
We need points from every match we play this season, points make prizes after all, so what could we expect from Halesowen Town? The Yeltz have always had a great relationship with us, right back to their first match in the Southern League in 1986 when they recovered from 1-3 down to take the points with a 5-3 win, a classic. The Supporters Club football team have continued to play their friendly curtain raisers with their Black Country counterparts, upon our arrival at The Yeltz Club it was obvious from the celebrations that Steve Rees had lead his troops to yet another win, 4-3 with even Llama scoring from a header. A good omen?
A couple of swift lagers, the clubhouse was full with plenty of Merthyr fans discussing the transfer news. The general belief that this could be our day. For some reason I haven't been to Halesowen since Phil Evans rose like a salmon to earn a point in the late eighties. The ground hasn't changed much since then, it's one of the most open grounds in non-league football so I wasn't surprised to see most of the crowd huddled behind the goals for the first half.
The Martyrs started in fine form, we could have scored as early as the first minute when a Carter cross was missed by the other new boy Dean Birkby. Carter bolstered by Clarke and Loss was controlling the midfield, with Cohen and Mikey Regan making most of our attacks down the right wing. It was time for lady luck to intervene, a Carter cross deceived everyone and the Halesowen keeper could do nothing but slice the ball into his own net. Bedlam behind the goals, fifth from bottom but 1-0 up. Come on you Martyrs! The support grew in voice, the temperature dropped.
Nathan bought a round of chips, Wingnut got the teas in. Merthyr fans just seemed to spend the first half walking around trying to take in the fact that the Martyrs were back to their best. Then came half-time.
Time to venture out from our haven of shelter and warmth, so began the great trek. A march that will one day go down in history along with Scott's ill-fated vaunt to the South Pole the Merthyr fans set off in single file along the top of the terraces heading for the Stourbridge Road End. The wind was biting, frostbite ever present. The Valleys spirit pulled us through, when a colleague stopped and refused to go on there was always another supporter on hand to encourage, soon a hardy bunch had arrived. A massive black & white flag appeared, it almost took Little Dai to Kidderminster as the storm force wind heightened. A Red Dragon showing "Merthyr Tydfil AFC" was acting like a beacon and by the time both teams re-emerged for the second half, the hundred and fifty or so Merthyr supporters had all made it.
Lee Price had replaced Cohen shortly before the break and so the Martyrs seemed to be more defensive from the re-start. It was freezing on that terrace and Merthyr had lost control of the match, for thirty minutes the Yeltz kept the pressure on but to their credit the Merthyr defence marshalled by Sky never gave in as they have many times this season. Tom Ramasut putting in some great tackles before being replaced by Richard Gardner. The frozen steppes of Worcestershire still echoed with support from the Merthyr supporter's huddled around the makeshift igloos that had been built. Lossy cleared off the line, their centre forward shot wide when 'one on one' with Seamus. The Martyrs ended the match strongly though with Logger leading the line after replacing the tired Birkby who looks useful, good in the air with some good touches on the ground.
The final whistle brought great scenes of joy behind the goals, have we turned the corner? As we set off back across the great divide, every Merthyr player was applauded by those of us who still could use their frozen limbs.
The Yeltz Bar brought warmth and lager. Results came in, we were up to fifteenth. We headed back to Wales, suffering the awful 606 phone-in program on Radio 5, does the Premiership need anymore coverage? Does the media care about supporters who don't follow the consumer giants of Manchester, Liverpool and London? It would appear not. Only when reports of trouble at Reading came through was there any deviance from the set agenda. Whilst supporters from Tottenham and Middlesborough moaned of poor results and commitment, our car full of fans felt pride in a magnificent display of pride by the Merthyr players today. Neither Cardiff nor Swansea but international Merthyrism!!
Chairman Mao

Merthyr She Wrote

2008-09-16T18:44:00.002+01:00

So I'm standing outside the Main Gates at Worcester City when Miss Marple gets out of a taxi, she's short of the fare, well it's ridiculously expensive in England, she obviously doesn't know the taxi chat ("Working late drive?" or Busy in town tonight?") so I step over and hand out some arian and pretty soon she's through customs and into the crime scene. Worcester have stolen a point and I want it recorded for the record. Worcester is not really a favourite destination for the Dial M For Merthys entourage, we were and still are innocent ! For me, it's an awkward trip - it's neither here nor there, it's a half day off work and a mad rush to Merthyr for the fast car over the border. Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to your pilot; The Brown Baron. Now, Mr. Brown loves a burger, and especially a burger from Dowlais Top so almost sixty minutes after leaving the Baili Glas we've travelled less than two miles, but soon it's the joys of the open road before us and time to relax, no, sorry what I meant to say was, then it was the A465. How can a one vowel and three numbers cause so much anxiety ? The Heads of the Valleys Road, game on ! You all know the score, you've all travelled to hundreds of away matches on the same route, for us the journey isn't measured in miles, but in time, it should take just over a hour to get to Strensham. That's the magic word for most Merthyr fans, Strensham ! Either you're really on your way to a game or you're almost home, it's like a beacon guiding the way. How many times have you had a piss there or even paid some ridiculous sum for a piece of toast at 3 in the morning ? You know what I mean, it's a tradition. Suffice to say that we made the match, in fact we would have had a skin full if we hadn't had to endure Worcester's shitty parking facilities, here's another ground going nowhere. A pint later and it's out to the terraces, once again it's a good turnout, maybe 100 fellow devotees scowling and grimacing at each other, Merthyr ? I love it, born and bred, bury me there ! To our great surprise, the Martyrs emerge from the prison camp fencing tunnel in our obvious third strip; it's gold apparently, dirty yellow really but nonetheless it looks good and tonight we played well in it, the golden boys. It was our first sight of Dai Thomas, would he be up for it ? Many players have dropped down to us and tried to coast it, at their cost ! First impressions ? Dai can be a legend if he maintains his 100% attitude, he chased everything tonight and should have had two goals, only to be denied by some great goalkeeping. The Martyrs dominated this game, we played some good football at a great pace, it almost took my mind off my piss poor cup of tea in the first half, I thought Salisbury had the worst tea, but here come Worcester with their My Mums tea bags and creamy milk and it's all over, minging tea. First half, under the roof opposite the main stand and it's obvious that Les Dennis is reffmg the match, Merthyr are on their toes after everything and it's looking good so obviously Worcester score first and to be fair it's a cracker, a cross is knocked out of the penalty area only to be lashed in by the nearest Worcester player, I would have applauded but I was trying to breathe life into my cup of tea. Merthyr continue to dominate the match, we even get Les Dennis on our side when he gives us a penalty when Logger faints in the box, I have an acid flashback as Gilo slots home the penalty, wooooh, Crawley 3-1 maaan, yeah peace! The second half is spent with Hulby, our co-driver, entertaining the huddled masses behind the goal. "You tease !" "Our survey said ?", if you were standing next to us during the match I have no apologies to make, you know who he is and we have warned you, he is an idiot and should not be approached unless under the influence of alcohol. Dai Thomas drags their defence everywhere showing his ability but a mixture of great defending and poor penetration ensures the shares are spoiled or the spoils are shared whatever you fancy really, basically it's 1-1. Thommo deserves a mention though for keeping his concentration to make some good late saves. It's a sign that we're really still on the way back that a match that we obviously should have won was treated as a point gained by the majority of Merthyr fans, to me Worcester got off lightly, hence the reason that Miss Marple was called to the scene. To be honest, she was a waste of time, she had a few pints, but never bought her round. Typical.
Chairman Mao

Dial M Investigates

2008-09-10T20:10:00.004+01:00

Dial M have found out where Tosh got the idea of playing one up front at home against Azerbijan.

Cheers Wolves.

Picture courtesy of today's METRO Newspaper.

Berliner Pilsner, Snickers, shit train journeys, depressing towns, miserable aggressive coppers with guns, Grizzly bears, snoring, McDonalds and more

2008-09-08T17:52:00.001+01:00

The Poland Trip
Sunday had finally arrived. All that waiting seemed to take an eternity, especially the last two weeks. Myself and Billy the Fish (BTF) decided to meet up slightly earlier than planned to enjoy a couple of liveners around town prior to meeting the rest of the boys in the Baili Glas, Afershave Hill, CF48. On arrival at 9.30pm we were the first there and "pussies" seemed like the perfect adjective to describe everyone else. Two minutes later and Dai and Mopp steam in looking exited. We are finally joined by the rest of the "Polish train mob" which consisted of Wingy, Rob the bomb (RTB), Hulby and the Brown Baron.

The trip had already taken a major setback the previous week as Typey was forced to withdraw with a broken limb. In fact it was that man himself who, as usual, had tirelessly arranged all travel and accommodation for the boys (cheers Rob). Now we were down to eight. The haul to the Polish capital was to take us over 20 hours via minibus from Merthyr to Stanstead, onto Berlin airport before catching the Paris-Moscow express train 600km across East Germany and Poland. Tidy.
After several pints and a few games of pool it's out into the freezing cold Merthyr night for a curry before departure from the law courts. The minibus is on time and it's away to go. The journey up is relatively quiet for a Dial M trip probably because there's no Typey. Everyone seems content to sleep, or generally relax to the tunes on the radio. The main talking point is the game and if the Poles will batter all the Welsh fans. Hulby seems confident that being a Dowlais Mountain Man will stand him in good stead and that none of us has anything to fear whilst he's with us. mmmmmmm, heard that one before Nige. Soon enough we hit London. Time 4am. BTF now springs to life demanding that everyone starts seshing immediately. For me though it's a couple of hours kip on the airport floor hopefully getting a head start on the rest of the boys. Ok I'm a puss.
Once in the departure lounge everyone comes to life and the booze is starting to flow quite freely. Except that is for Dai and the Brown Baron who as per usual and being the pups of the trip, are struggling. No such trouble for myself, BTF and Wingy. BTF has to threaten Dai with physical violence before he finishes his pint of liquid heaven. It looks as if Hulby's beetroot diet is going well as he comes from the cafe with a full cooked breccy and a pint. There are now quite a few Welsh fans milling around with Ritchie, the Valleys commando, making a guest appearance. Onto the plane and after the customary humming of Men of Harlech, the Brown Baron tries out a bit of sexual innuendo with the air stewardess. I think she's impressed with our Welsh/Catalan until he tells her to shut up and get the booze in.
As is the case with every away trip, arrival at the airport sees the first arguments begin. Everyone disagrees on our next move in trying to find the train station and things aren't helped by no-one, except muggins here having any DM's (Thats Deutchmarks to those of you from Caedraw.) Once we find our bearings it is decided to purchase 96 cans of Berliner beer at 5.6%. On reflection, maybe we should have shopped around a little. It tastes a little like greyhound piss only worse. But as BTF said "just shut up and get boozing you pussies" The first cans were opened (sssssssscccchhhhhhhh) on the connecting train from the airport where we were joined by a particularly attractive German chicken. The Brown Baron sees another opportunity to speak English with a French accent and expect this young Berlin lassie to understand. As Hulby correctly pointed out, she could well understand, she just thought Browney was a twat.
The next ten minutes is spent explaining the cultural differences between the Welsh and English to a rather pissed up old fool who had more than a keen interest in our Feinherb & Spritzig Premium Pilsners. Little did he know that if he waited until Thursday he could have about fifty of them! Soon enough we switched trains and were on our way. The train was about two million miles long and finding an empty carriage was pretty diflicult to say the least. Tempers once again became frayed especially when, after eventually finding an empty room and the fork-lift had stacked the beer, a young German family pointed out that we were sitting in their pre-booked seats. Bollocks, Hulby explalned out loud before proceeding to see if they would mind pissing off somewhere else. Then a rather aggressive looking Polish copper with a big gun shifted us in a matter of seconds. Once settled, good progress was made on the Berliners and conversation began on the War. Hulby seemed to have an unlimited knowledge of bullshit on the subject which left the rest of us amazed and BTF in a raging anger at Hulby's stupidity. After about ten passport/ticket checks from extremely ropey looking Polish army types, hunger began to set in. The problem was that no-one had much money and the only thing on the buffet car was Berliner Pilsner and Snickers. Brilliant. A Snickers and lager dinner. As the booze and boredom kicked in the arguments started up once more with Dai seemingly the target for much aggression. At one point the Brown Baron rose from his seat and grabbed at young Dai's throat, with hatred in his eyes. I must be honest though, my Zlotti's were on Dai to take him out in three rounds as Dai was beginning to tense up real good. Later it was Hulby's turn to have a pop, this time with fists flailing for no apparent reason. Hulby though denied the use of fists on someone a third of his size despite everyone in the carriage witnessing it. Eventually we cruise into Warsaw Central in good time and order a couple of taxi's to our five star hotel - the Praski, opposite the Zoo.
Once the rooms are sorted and the Brown Baron has tried his luck with the receptionist it's out into the freezing cold, hostile Warsaw night in search of the demon alcohol. The roads are chaotic with traffic and we walk for what seems like miles as there are no pubs and nowhere seems to be open. Tiredness and starvation are now setting in and Hulby's gut is expanding rapidly. Not even his fanny can keep him warm in this cold. Eventually we stumble across a Pizza Hut and in we go. Everyone steams into the salad bar much to the annoyance of a group of Poles. Tough shit. The Brown Baron, now hyper-sophisticated after living in Sydney for eight months orders a bottle of white wine with his pizza. BTF looks on in dismay. Wingy meanwhile is glugging beer at an impressive rate as he has done all day all things considered. Following food, myself and Hulby make our way back to the hotel at around 11 pm, totally wrecked. The rest of the boys enjoy a few more pints in the Irish pub before turning in as well. Tuesday moming. l0am. Mopp enters our room and wakes us to a torrent of abuse. There are some very tired bodies in need of rest here. Slowly we all come around and after a quick shit, shave and shower, it's offinto downtown Warsaw minus Dai and RTB to find our bearings. A quick hello to the grizzly bears across the road in the zoo (one ofwhich developed an erection on sight ofHulby) and we move swiftly across the longest bridge in the world into the centre of town. Again, we walk for miles in search of food to settle our aching stomachs. Hulby is starting to sweat. Eventually we stumble across a Burger King'with minging food on offer but in we go. Next stop its Warsaw's equivalent of Anne's Pantry for a can of beer and for me and BTF to have a dump. Well it was the best we could flnd in this seemingly pub-less town. Finally we do find a pub (can't remember the name) and settle down to the main reason for the trip. Booze. Browney is again up to his tricks in trying to pull the waitresses but to no avail. As the booze begins to flow freely the pub starts to fill with some Welsh fans and the conversation is of football. We start talking to Dave from Conwy who, with impeccably bad timing, shows us an article from the previous days Daily Mail which mentions the expected crowd trouble between Legia and Cardiff fans. Just what we need. Meanwhile Hulby is starting to sweat and so he and Browney make their way back to the hotel to change. Next we make our way to the flashy players hote! to collect our tickets. We also had a bit of a chat with Paul Jones and Nathan Blake who advise us that the U21's had lost. With spirits now high from the alcohol we decide to move on to the Irish Pub which if full to the top with Wales supporters enjoying the delights of Warsaw (Not that we'd seen any) A couple of dishes of lush Goulash is the order of the day for me and Wingy, washed down with cold fizzy largers. Life doesn't get much better than this. Next to appear in the pub are a mob of violent looking Poles in shell-suits (from Tredegar!) looking for an off with Wales fans. Apparently there are about forty outside wanting to know. Not good news. BTF says he had just walked past a gang of boys outside and thought they were from Porthmadog. Allright lads he says to them!! Soon after the Polish knob heads piss offwe move on to the Underground music bar. A bit of a trendy looking establishment with expensive beer. Things are looking very gloomy for me now and the thought of bed has crossed my mind on more than one occasion. Things get worse when the bouncer kicks me out for sleeping on the bar. For me the night was over and I made my way back to the Praski where Hulby and Browney are fast asleep! Pussies. The sight of me awakes them into action and they are soon ah dressed up and ready to go into the night with Browney muttering something about sluts and Hulby looking oa unconvinced, 1 am - I'm woken by BTF. Drunk as a boot. He tells stories of the "tidy tity bars" him and Wingy have been ftequenting since my departure before dosing off and snoring super loud. 4.30am - Woken by Browney, drunk as a boot muttering on about cheeky sluts, champagne and loosing all his loot. He then proceeds to have a scuffle with his bed sheet before dosing off and hiccuping super loud. Magic.

Wednesday morning - 10.30am. Once again woken by Mopp. This time accompanied~ by Dai and Hulby telling stories of last nights adventures. Dai says that he and RTB must have seen every Wales fan in Poland except for us lot yestecday, but nevertheless had a good sesh. A few stories have been doing the rounds about trouble in town last night as well. Apparently two Welsh boys got a pretty severe kicking at the hands of some Poles and we were being advised not to seek revenge. Revenge being the last thing on our minds as we were too busy shitting ourselves. After the customary shite, shave and shower it's down to reception to sort out the passports as our early departure tomorrow, along with today's quota of beer will no doubt leave little time for the administrative formalities. Once again Browney tries to sex up the super model receptionist, however, with chat up lines such as (with a french accent, of course) "Does your boyfriend have big penis", "you like big penis" and "me and you tonight ya ya ya" it's no real surprise he failed. The receptionist muttered something which Hulby translated as "why are you wearing a stupid BT Cardiff Devils top!" Browney, the DMFM sex god and all round pulling machine of past trips can't understand it. He's lost his touch. He will not let this minor setback deter him though as he bids to improve on these appalling pulling statistics which even Dai would frown upon. Out into the town once again we go in search of grub. Some of the lads need to cash some loot again (They must cash about £10 a time!) while Me, Wingy, BTF and Browney go for a steak with plans to meet the rest later in the Irish Pub. Into the London Steakhouse for a couple of liveners to calm the fears of the day ahead. We pick a table around the corner and close the curtains so that no Poles can see us. We are also joined by a few more Wales fans with stories of brawling. Oh tidy BTF thinks out loud.

After the steakhouse we try a minging pint and a couple of Tequilla slammers in the Western Bar. This is by far and away the worst pub in Europe and makes the Pontlottyn spunk shed look like the New York Hard Rock Cafe. Browney once again goes on the pull after some French speaking Polish chickens despite protestation from the rest of us to leave. it is left to me however to act as a translator and impress the ladies much to Brownies dismay. Next it's onto the Irish Pub where the rest of the boys are supping steins of lager. Magic. The pub is jammed with Welsh boys including Jon the German, Bridgends finest hooligan and much singing and happiness is to be had by all. Wingy is sinking pint after pint like there's no tomorrow while Dai leads the singing on the tables, which are cast in the shadow of the magnificent "Dial M for Merthyr" flag. Thoughts of angry Poles are now far from our minds as there is nothing quite like a tipsy, angry Hulby with a large glass in tus hand to inspire confidence. There are about 150 of us in the pub and we all agree to make our way to the stadium together. This is what it's all about. Collective drunken singing not poxy Dr Martens league football. On departure at 7pm we are met by an angry mob of skinheads outside, But the tooled up riot police rounded us up and marched us for a whole hour to the ground, ensuring that we missed the kick-off. The walk was a little shitty at times especially as the ground is in the middle of a park in the middle of nowhere and stopping for a piss was usually greeted with a baseball bat type stick across the back of the legs. On arrival at the ground we find that there is only one gate open with the game already underway. After the efforts in trying to pull the fences down by about fifty Welsh fans they finally speed things up, but only after setting dogs and CS gas on the offenders. On entry (to the ground) I'm reminded of that scene from the classic play Grand Slam when Mog walks into the stadium in his pants in Paris to cries of "Wales, Wales" Awesome. Of course being a football crowd the 400 or so Wales fans probably made more noise than 10,000 rugby buggers. The atmosphere is tense with all the Wales fans in excellent voice. As for the game, well I can't really comment as we were about a mile behind the goal with 20 foot fences preventing us steaming the pitch. At times it was pretty difficult working out which half the ball was in, although this is sometimes a good thing though when watching Wales. The Polish fans were in fine voice first half as well and looked quite impressive with their flares (not the trouser variety!) The second half saw Wales silence the Polish crowd with their effective tactics and also saw an incredible version of Men of Harlech from our end which lasted the entire second half Tops. At the final whistle the players ran over to us to celebrate, throwing their shirts into the fans.

Thursday morning arrives 5.30am. This is no fun. Bleary eyed and wrecked we shower - and gather our humble belongings before saying our goodbyes and making our way to the station, which has quite a few ropey looking skinheads loitering with intent. It's 6am for god sake. Don't these people ever give it a rest? lt's the start of the long return journey back home to Wales and it's fair to say that exciternent levels are nowhere near the same level as Tuesday. The thought of arriving home in about 20 hours time is depressing me something terrible. Still, we make our connection onto the nrain train to Berlin. Once again it is chaotic for well over an hour, and this cominues each time we stop. The journey is a nightmare. In fact I think it's more depressing than watching a Newport County training session. We pass the game playing interesting littie games like Swear Word association and Moppys favorite, Who can swear the loudest. Meanwhile Hulby is beginning to sweat. Still we cruise into Berlin airport in time for a couple of sherberts to pick us up. Things end as they began with me Wingy Woo and BTF seshing and Browney and Dai woosing out while the rest of the crew enjoy a sleep. Once Hulby has purchased his customary two million super-duper strength ciggys for the smoking population of Blaendowlais, it's onto the flight, and before long were are cruising on the M25, M4 and that most g1orious strip of tarxnac ever laid, the A470. Home to bed at last. Oh shit work in the morning. Mind you I can feel a little flu coming on. A sickie is definitely on the cards. Tidy.
Verdict on Poland - Okay, but don't go there!
THE PRESIDENT

Dial M - Issue 02 online

2008-09-07T15:34:00.001+01:00

http://publishing.yudu.com/Ap9uv/DialMIssue02/resources/index.htm

The day Roger should have been sacked... 1999

2008-09-05T21:31:00.000+01:00

14th September 1999 - the day Roger Gibbins, as soon as he stepped onto the team bus after the game away to Newtown in the FAW cup, should have been sacked as manager of Merthyr Tydfil FC. Basically the performance at Latham Park that evening was shocking. A 1-0 defeat against a Newtown side who, on the night were the better team even though they played most of the game with ten men and the majority of the second half with nine players. That was bad shit. It was also evident from that match how totally inept Haydn Fleming was as a 'footballer'; this guy was a professional once, he's now with Maesteg Parc. Enough said I think.

But the big pisser of the night was the non-appearance of the Merthyr players & officials in the Newtown clubhouse after the game. The only excuse I can think of on their behalf is that they were embarrassed that they had been outplayed, outfought & were found wanting tactically against a LOW side. If Gibbo had any bollocks at all he would have instructed all personnel associated with Merthyr Tydfil FC to walk into the clubhouse, have a pint, a bite to and subsequently congratulate Newtown FC on an excellent performance.

What actually happened was a disgrace. The Dial 'M' posse who went for a beer after the game were confronted by an angry Newtown chairman who wanted to know where all the Merthyr Tydfil players were. When told that they had jumped on the bus and buggered off home to MT then a few expletives were uttered. As well as the hospitality that was laid on there was also an award that Newtown intended on presenting to the Merthyr man of the match.

Overall, for the Merthyr supporters left at Latham Park after the game it was embarrassing to say the least. The Newtown board of directors awarded the man of the match trophy to the representatives of Dial 'M' For Merthyr who were still left enjoying the free scoff & booze that was intended for Merthyr Tydfil FC. By 11.30pm, when we eventually left Mid Wales, things were looking cool through our alcohol-tinted glasses.

It didn't take much longer for the powers that be at MTAFC to see what a totally inept manager RG was and basically sacked him, albeit via an ultimatum. Nevertheless, in my opinion the night of the 14th September 1999 was when he should have been sacked, not just on his lack of managerial ability...

... AND IT WAS A BLOODY GOOD LAUGH

2008-09-05T21:16:00.000+01:00

The phone rang at 6. In the morning. The call was coming from Merthyr to get up and get ready. Glamorgan were at Lords and the whole of South Wales seemed on the road. The DMFM crew were set to join them. Around 45 minutes later, the peace of my Cynon Valley haven was shattered by the arrival of our charabanc, whether this mini-bus would reach London seemed doubtful, it seemed to be held together by sellotape. I climbed aboard, all were present, only RTB to be collected at Quakers Yard to make up the nine selected to represent Merthyr Tydfil FC, having the dubious pleasure of delivering us at the home of cricket.

The length of the M4 seemed to be full of all manner of transport transporting Glamorgan supporters eastwards, even the sight of two Gloucestershire coaches sparked weird celebrations as cars, vans, mini-buses and coaches tried to flag them down to share in the vast cider lake that was heading towards London. Wingnut had started his sesh at 6.30 am outside the Norton, he was to last until 2.30 am outside some club in Camden Town. Our only diversion was to find our hotel near Paddington, it was to be my first stay at the infamous "Conti", a regular haunt for Merthyr boys enjoying a sesh in the English capital. I was not to be disappointed, it took all my strength to find my room with my every step sticking to the carpet. There was no need for a key, just push the door and in. I'd drawn the short straw and was sharing with Little Dai and Typey, no peace for me then but I'd avoided Hulby's snoring (who had kept me awake for three days in Prague).

The mini-bus was parked at a friendly office near Lords and off we set on a trek to see Glammy bring home the Cup. We arrived at Lords 15 minutes late to be met with sight of Welsh fans hiding flags about their persons, flags were being confiscated upon entry no matter what the size, a few teatowels were lost to the stewards. Wingnut put the famous DMFM flag under his hat and we were in, how he managed to get his mobile off-licence in must remain a secret. Typey had managed to get his hands on some Mound Stand tickets, the price was the same as nine Merthyr matches, the ground looked superb and seemed full everywhere except our stand which had some empty seats.

I think the Mound Stand is set aside for the neutral observers but today it was full of Welsh supporters intent on a party. The day will go down as one of the best sporting occasions ever, the Glamorgan support was without doubt the best that Lords has ever seen. The singing started at 11.15 and lasted all day, you seemed to know everyone. There was a family from Newport in the row in front of us, they were tidy lads, it was that sort of day. Matthew Maynard's innings set the tone for the Mound Stand, every score sparked goal-like celebrations, one of shots flew for a four right in front of us, the DMFM flag appeared spontaneously and so did the stewards who seemed to swarm towards us in an attempt to confiscate our flag. Eventually, I accompanied one of the stewards to the Head Stewrards Room on the ground floor. They seemed confused by the huge spanish flag, I was given a receipt for "1 very odd large flag" and told to get it after the game.

Meanwhile, Maynard and Powell seemed to be setting Gloucestershire a tidy target. The stand were singing, Wingnut had opened the bar and seemed to be serving most of South Wales. Jack and the Newport boys seemed to enjoy the white wine whereas a couple from Worcester had the dubious honour of sharing a bottle of cider & black with Hulby who was commentating on the match. The corks on our aussie hats danced as the runs kept coming and then our wickets starting falling. Maynard's century kept the dream alive but to be honest even we knew, in our relaxed state, that were 20-30 runs short. The break was spent touring the ground, meeting old friends and stocking up at the bar which was rumoured to be closing. The tractor drivers started well, and were soon on their way to victory which seemed to change the mood around us to the more bizarre. Hulby, stripped to the waist, was the centre of attention, the whole stand asking "Who ate all the pies ?". Guilty as charged.

It had to happen I suppose, one of my cohorts who shall remain nameless (to protect the innocent) suddenly appeared standing on his seat, naked, the Mound Stand went mental. Immediately, there was a tap on my shoulder and what seemed to be dozens of the boys in blue waited to eject the hero of the hour. A couple of the coppers were from South Wales, up in London to help out the Met, and one from Swansea was tidy enough to allow us down to the holding cells before our now fully clothed friend was taken to Marylebone police station to rest awhile before his rescue by his fellow countrymen. Back in the Mound Stand, we were visited by streams of well-wishers who offered all kinds of support if our hero was charged with anything, drinks were swapped and the party continued although Glamorgan now were doomed to another heroic failure on the field. I was eventually handed our flag, our friend from Swansea intervening during some petty bureaucracy, and soon we were all on the field celebrating our nationality and having a bloody good laugh.

If Glamorgan ever get to Lords for a Final again, you just have to go. It was the KFC next to Marylebone police station that witnessed the emotional reunion of the 'Lords 1' with the rest of the DMFM contingent. Back to the Conti, a quick change then out to the Worlds End pub in Camden Town which is a favourite starting point for all Merthyr/London weekends. The tube ride across London enlivened by a Tom Jones karaoke session, we arrived at the Worlds End to find that Foreign Legion, my favourite Welsh band, had just finished a cracking set downstairs. The pub seemed full of Merthyr. My liver was beginning to struggle so I headed back to the Conti, leaving a few of the lads to head for a nightclub, I am the elder statesman after all.

I awoke to a filthy hangover and to the fact that one of the lads was MIA (Missing In Action), our youngest colleague had failed to re-appear for the trip home. A few hours later and we were on our way back west with our little lost friend asleep in the back of the bus, he had forgotten the name of our hotel and had spent the night walking around the streets of London, narrowly avoiding being mugged, being driven around by the Met and finally getting in touch by mobile phone with RTB. At Reading services, we met the Glamorgan squad returning home, most of the players seemed happy enough queuing up for Burger King, but Matthew Maynard seemed genuinely gutted and having signed a few autographs told the lads that we'd get back to Lords soon. I couldn't take any more booze so declined the offer of a Baili Glas session and headed back to Cwmaman for a warm bath and an early night. Martyrs !!

CHAIRMAN MAO

An away game? What to do on 6th September?

2008-09-02T16:46:00.002+01:00

Corby? Now that’s a long way. The lads have hit form of late and we’re starting to climb the table but still it’s a long way to Little Scotland so what are the alternatives to traversing the windy plains of England;

Only 1 really, get down to the Millennium Stadium and watch the young Wales team take on Azerbaijan. Kick off is at 3pm, if you’re lucky you can sit next to Hulby Marulby and enjoy his match analysis.

Nowt else to report on cultural events in the Glamorgan area, just keep your mind on the season ahead.

Whatever you decide, don’t forget ……… choose wisely!

Dial M - Issue 01

2008-09-01T21:15:00.000+01:00

Issue one of Dial M for Merthyr went on sale in 1989 and here it is in all it's glory. Over the next year we will bring you the resulting 50+ issues of Dial M that found their way to the fans of Merthyr in the19 years following thie landmark in publishing.

http://publishing.yudu.com/Freedom/Ao9l7/DialMforMerthyrIssue/resources/index.htm?referrerUrl=

Away matches? What to do on 30th August?

2008-08-27T16:30:00.002+01:00

So the Martyrs continue their travels over the border by completing the Oxbridge double in Marston, but if you can’t face the trek across the lowlands to the A40 then why not try the following whilst you receive those texts from the hardy souls in Oxon;

A visit to Treharris is always enjoyable, there’s a few pubs around the town centre but my favourite is the Quakers down in Quakers Yard, get the X78 down the valley or even the mighty Arriva special to Quakers Yard South, and enjoy a pint before the hike up the hill to the Athletic Ground. This weekend they entertain West End from Swansea, the West Wales outfit are continuing to progress in the Welsh pyramid so it will be interesting to see how our near neighbours deal with their visit.

As for entertainment, you could be lucky and find a ticket for the closing performances of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang at the Millennium Centre in Cardiff, always enjoyed that film mainly due to Lionel Jefferies character. Remember to keep the phone on silent for the matinee performance and don’t leap into the air screaming “Get in” if we get that first away goal of the season. Although I can’t see H from Steps as the Child Catcher, but on the other hand he is from the Rhondda …….

Of course Oxford can be pleasant. Its Saturday. There’s a bus waiting … Richard on 07852 950486 for all your travel requirements could be the call.

But remember whatever you decide …… choose wisely!

Salisbury Bus Trip 2003

2008-08-25T19:01:00.003+01:00

Dial M ran a free bus for the Junior Martyrs at the end of the 2003 season. Little Dai brought a cylinder of helium to fill the hundreds of balloons we took. Many beers led to the Dai Pest and Wingnut bursting into song. Hilarious.

Kaos Korner

2008-08-25T18:42:00.007+01:00

Jarge was distraught as Daddy told him that as a punishment for uttering the words Barry and Town, he would be taken to watch The Martyrs that afternoon.

Poll news

2008-08-24T19:46:00.002+01:00

Unsurprisingly Hing Hongs was voted the best chinesse in Merthyr ever from our latest poll. Sadly Bongs is no more. It was the spiritual last stop off on a succesful Dial M night out.

Professor Plum’s Book Review

2008-08-19T17:49:00.000+01:00

John Charles Gentle Giant
Mario Risoli
(Mainstream Publishing)

Mario Risoli has covered the life & career of John Charles in some detail for this biography, what will be of interest to Merthyr fans though will be the chapter dedicated to the great man’s tenure at Penydarren Park in the early 70s. The fact that Mario has taken the time to cover this chapter of his life is to Mario’s credit as usually his time at Merthyr is often mentioned as a mere afterthought at the end of his Cardiff era. The book is well written and charters John’s rise from Cwmbwrla Park to be the greatest players ever produced by Wales. The book details his early days at Swansea Town, his transfer to Leeds United and his subsequent move to Turin where he is still regarded as a god by the tifosi. His tussles to be released for Wales matches are uncovered, the reluctance of Juventus to allow their star man to travel back to Wales only enabled John to gain 38 caps despite a 13 year career. But for me, it was the chapter on the Martyrs that brought the greatest satisfaction. Mario Risoli has interviewed Ken Tucker, then Secretary, Terry Collins, then a club Director, Nick Deacy, then a young aspiring striker, and Ieuan Evans, then a member of the backroom staff. The away trip when John Charles forgets to collect Nick Deacy, the story of the stolen brussel sprouts, the disappointment of the Hendon 2nd round FA Cup tie are all covered. Some of the press cuttings from the early 70s are probably still relevant today, Phil Howells then covering the Martyrs for the Merthyr Express at one stage bemoans the fact that the Merthyr public don’t seem to be getting behind the club despite being unbeaten at home and only conceding two goals in nine matches. Ken Tucker confirming that at Merthyr you had to be top as 2nd, 3rd or 4th didn’t attract the fans through the gates. No change there then. In closing, the book is well worth a look. It’s currently in hardback and costs £14.99, it’ll be available in the Sports Library in the Club Shop from the New Year if you can’t wait for the paperback version. Happy Reading.
Professor Plum

They played for Merthyr Town

2008-08-18T21:48:00.001+01:00

The second of a series of portraits of players who graced the turf at Penydarren Park back in our distant Football League days, we follow our homage to Samuel “Sonny” Gibbons in Issue 41 by looking at the enigma that was Patrick (Paddy) Moore (1909-1951);

The interesting story of Paddy Moore came to light when I was trawling through the Football League records of Merthyr Town players, I was intrigued by his 10 international caps, but this time not for Wales, but with both Eire (9) and Northern Ireland (1). I was hoping that the player had been capped by his country whilst playing for Merthyr Town, further research revealed that his time at Penydarren Park was a nightmare and his international career must have seemed a distant dream but Paddy Moore was to go onto carve a niche in the history of Irish football.

Patrick Moore was born in Ballybough in 1909. His first noted club was Richmond Rovers (probably in Dublin), he soon joined Shamrock Rovers making his debut on 3rd May 1929 in a League of Ireland Shield match. He was soon spotted by our near neighbours Cardiff City for whom he signed on 28th August 1929, he failed to make an impact at Ninian Park only making one appearance and was subsequently transferred to Merthyr Town on 8th March 1930. He must have wondered what he had let himself for as he had signed for a desperate club that would eventually finish bottom of Division 3, conceding an astounding 135 goals, and of course losing our Football League status. Paddy seems to have served in Merthyr Town’s defence during his short stay at Penydarren Park which is surprising considering his success in later years at both Shamrock Rovers and Aberdeen, maybe if Merthyr had played Paddy in his obvious preferred forward role then we may have overhauled both Bristol Rovers and Gillingham and avoided the ignominy of our expulsion (at least for another 12 months). His first match was in front of a 4,000 crowd at Bournemouth on 22nd March where he was joined in making his debut by Smith, a half-back signed from Aberaman, and V. Lewis, a full-back signed from New Tredegar. In a hard fought match played into the teeth of a strong wind, the Merthyr team fought back from an early goal to lead 2-1 almost before half-time only for their play to go to pieces in the second half as they made the journey home with a 4-2 defeat. Paddy Moore continued his short career in South Wales with his home debut in a 3-2 defeat by Walsall. Merthyr’s desperate fight to climb the table was boosted by a remarkable 2-0 win at Queen’s Park Rangers witnessed by an incredulous 10,000 Londoners. Paddy’s final matches in Merthyr’s colours were to seal Merthyr’s fate and remain two of the most controversial for different reasons, first the visit of Fulham to Penydarren Park on 12th April, could the Town improve on the great result at QPR? Even for the usual conservative reporting style of the Merthyr Express it would seem that the Town played courageously only to lose 4-3, a match heavily influenced by two offside goals for the Cottagers. The next match was so awful for Merthyr that the Merthyr Express doesn’t seem to have been able to provide a match report for it. The match was a visit to Somerton Park on 17th April 1930. The result? Newport County 10 Merthyr Town 0. A team containing nine of the players who had performed so admirably at Bournemouth less than four weeks earlier had collapsed in Monmouthsire to signal the end of Merthyr Town’s stay in the Football League. It must have also been the final straw for Paddy Moore as he was soon returning across the Irish Sea to start the 1930/31 season with Shamrock Rovers. He made one more bid to make the Football league but after only four appearances for Tranmere Rovers, he was soon back at Milltown wearing the green & white hoops of Shamrock Rovers. Paddy Moore was now called up for international honours with Eire. In fact he marked his international debut by scoring as Spain were held to a 1-1 draw at Barcelona’s Montjuich Stadium in front of a 100,000 crowd on 26th April 1931. Senior international matches were a rarity in those days, this was only Ireland’s sixth game since the formation of the FA of Ireland six years previously. His elevated status ensured that at the end of that season Paddy Moore once again crossed the Irish Sea but this time for the Scottish League. His destination? Aberdeen. Paddy Moore’s career, stifled as a defender in South Wales, now took off as he served five seasons at Pittodrie, his legendary status in the North East of Scotland was confirmed by his club record achievement of scoring the most goals for Aberdeen in one game; six goals against Falkirk in 1932. The football fans of Merthyr must have been wondering whether this was the same player. Paddy Moore’s international career continued to match his success at Pittodrie, his third cap came in a remarkable 4-4 World Cup qualifying match against Belgium at Dalymount Park, Dublin on 25th February 1934. Moore was the hero of the 28,000 crowd when scoring all four Irish goals, he was the first player to score four goalsin the history of the World Cup, his record for Ireland was to stand for another 41 years until Don Givens matched him in a 4-0 win over Turkey. Paddy Moore had come a long way from that infamous defeat at Somerton Park. Paddy Moore’s final goal for Ireland was against Holland in a 5-2 defeat at the De Meer Stadium in Amsterdam when the no-nonsense Moore put the visitors ahead 2-1 when he shouldered ‘keeper Van Male and the ball into the net. In a glittering but tragically short career, he was capped only nine times but scored seven goals. Paddy Moore was undoubtedly the first super star to appear on the Irish scene, a cult figure, a bit of a rebel, a hard drinker and alas dead before he reached his 42nd birthday. Paddy Moore played for Merthyr Town. The Town’s fortunes may have been so different if his potential had been realized when he first arrived at the gates of Penydarren Park on the morning of 8th March 1930.

Dial M For Merthyr has so far failed to track down a photograph of Paddy Moore if anyone has any further information on the player then please get in touch to the usual editorial address on the inside cover of this issue.
Chairman Mao

Away matches? What to do?

2008-08-16T20:38:00.000+01:00

What is a Martyr to do when the lads are off in foreign climes?

23rd August

Mmm, a conundrum. DMFM recommends visiting the Willows to take in Troedyrhiw's match against Seven Sisters. Travel to the capital village of the Plymouth Ward is easy, try either a 81 bus from stand 10 of Merthyr Bus Emporium or even risk the Arriva train from Merthyr Central to Troedyrhiw General, en route to the stadium why not sample a beer or two in the Ex-servicemans Club? A proper workingmens club serving good beer at affordable prices, post-match munchies could be sated at the Pak Ho chip shop on the square before heading north back to Merthyr to celebrate that win at Cambridge.

For those of a more cultural persuasion we recommend heading west to Jackland to see the Ray Cooney farce “Run for your Wife” at the Grand Theatre. There’s nothing like a good farce after all.

For those of you just fancy a few beers why not head to the Mumbles & Swansea Bay Beer Festival running at the Brangwyn Hall, Swansea from 21-23 August. Entry is just £5 and the drinks are available between 12 noon and 11pm. At the cider stalls we’re advised that the perry is very well received.

Or you could just head to the Rhondda to cheer on the plucky lads from the Brunswick as they compete in the FAW Trophy for the first time!

But if you change your mind and fancy the journey to Cambridge then why not give young Richard a tinkle on 07852 950486, there’s a charabanc trip to be enjoyed!

Whatever you decide, remember ……. Choose wisely!!

And we won? 2004

2008-08-15T22:49:00.000+01:00

Working on a Saturday. Deadlines to be met. Texts coming through on the mobile from the lads, excited, it’s one of the highlights of the season. Twerpton Park and Bath City await. Frantic phone calls ensue. Favours are called in. Work sorted. Released. Sprint down to Cardiff Central. Leap from toe to toe as I work my way slowly through the ticket barriers, platform 6 for the Valleys, yeah I know. First train to Radyr? Treherbert. A Rhondda train, should I risk it? I push through the Primark bag laden shoppers and secure a seat. I’m on my way. The train pulls into Cardiff Queen Street as I try to recall the last time we won at Twerpton, now my memory isn’t the best when it comes to the Martyrs, in fact I can’t remember the last time we won at PP, but it must be a few years ago but why does the trip appeal to so many of us? I think it’s because Twerpton Park seems like a big ground, there’s an away end in which to pretend that we’re still a major force in non-league football, their clubhouse has improved of late and there’s the Old Crown down the road for a couple of scoops and a tidy jukey. Now to our younger element reading this article, this may shock, but Bath City could be argued to be our real derby match. It is to me. Newport just doesn’t cut the mustard for this salad lover. I’m woken from my reverie by the realization that Radyr is approaching, there’s a few Tory voters getting to their feet and sure enough I’m soon diving into a waiting car ready for the second leg of the journey. It’s half past one and The Brown Baron’s motor is moving swiftly to the Border. Sit back and relax. There’s nothing better than traveling to a Merthyr away game, the sense of anticipation increasing in proportion to how near you’re getting to the ground, this has nothing to do with the reality of the current form of the team, you know that you always travel in hope otherwise what are you doing with your time? Its not for the view. The M4 never fails to bore the sense out of me. Look what its done to Hulby Marulby over the years, a man on the brink of a Oxford education brought to his knees by years of following the Martyrs on the road. There’s a growing unease in the car as we near Bath, nobody wants to break the silence but once again we’re lost in Bath city centre, it must be the uniformity of the stonework on the houses, it’s like a very well commercialized maze, we eventually stumble across the river, and are en route to Twerpton. It’s five to three as we tumble out of the car. Straight up to the away end where there’s a dozen or so Merthyr fans being advised by the dozen or so stewards that the turnstiles are down at the other end of the ground, we roll down the car park, attracting more Merthyr fans as we go, it’s gone kick-off and we’re still outside as Hulby and Moppy are in a state of shock at having to pay £7.50 to watch the Martyrs. I call for strong tea off one of the half-dozen or so stewards and quickly our two parsimonious heroes have negotiated the cash transfer. In the ground, no segregation, and the Merthyr support is spread out. Once again, I’m impressed with the loyalty of my fellow devotees, close on one hundred have traveled down to Bath. As for the team, well we look good in our new second strip, good choice. It must be a commercial success too. It’s pretty obvious that we’re facing one of the worst teams ever to represent Bath City, the Martyrs seem comfortable without really threatening the Bath diminutive goalkeeper, both Cortez and Mikey Regan are causing their defence enough problems with their tireless running into the channels. Gary Thorne is once again mastering anything launched into our penalty area and anything else is being safely handled by Thommo. To be honest, it’s no surprise when we score. A Danny Carter corner is headed home by Cortez to spark varied celebrations around the ground. The Supporters Club lads are bouncing around the terraces whilst those of us in the seats prefer a genteel golf-clap and “three cheers for Cortez”. It’s cold. Time for food. Now getting fed at Twerpton hasn’t always been a great experience, who can forget the famous frisbee burgers from one match over the festive period a few years ago? There’s a few of those burgers being used as beer mats in the Park View. Things have changed, one “straight” burger later and I’m happy. Now for drink. Just before half-time and it’s down to the bottom gate again to meet the dozen or so stewards to get a “pass out” for the club. Walking up the car park. Roar from inside ground. Rob Parker waving hands in air, either we’ve scored or Doug Ellis has resigned. Mikey Regan. 2-0. Half-time. Perhaps we’ll get a draw. I really must stop getting cynical. It’s that self defence mechanism in all Merthyr fans kicking into place whenever things start to go well. Wingnut gets the round in. The bar is already mobbed by fellow explorers from the Valleys, some of whom don’t seem to have watched the first half yet, class! Flat lager. Nothing changes there then. Stare at the pint a lot. Eventually peer pressure forces me to down the golden liquid in two and head back to the entertainment. Second half was dire. It was now seriously cold. Behind the goals, those of a more mature generation reminisced on away trips of yesteryear whilst the more energetic of our support sang monotonous songs of no significance. There’s nothing to report. Danny Carter fired wide. We looked comfortable at the back. In short it was the most boring 2-0 win ever but it would be truculent to complain. Three points in the bag. We win at Bath City. A great win considering all the rumours in the fortnight leading up to the game, we’d beaten the bottom two sides in consecutive matches and had re-joined the battle at the bottom of the Conference “promotion” race. Hulby’s on night shift so it’s straight back in the motor, and apart from a panic at the Servern Bridge when our hairless friend refuses to chip in for the toll, it’s a contented assembly of Merthyr supporters that is greeted by the new landmark of the neon Tesco sign dominating the Pearl of the Valleys’ skyline. Good to be home, even better after a win.
Chairman Mao

So you’re hungry? 2005

2008-08-14T22:51:00.003+01:00

In response to a few e-mails from visiting fans with regard to spending the weekend in the Pearl of the Valleys and having a meal out to celebrate getting three points at PP, here’s a DMFM recommended eating guide for Merthyr Tydfil;

Bwyty Arbennig, High Street, Cefn Coed Y Cymer
Aberglais Inn, Pontsarn
Nant Ddu Lodge, A470
Anne’s Pantry, Lower High Street, Merthyr Tydfil
Chaplins, Lower High Street, Merthyr Tydfil
Red Cow, Pontsticill
Bessemer, Dowlais
Hing Hongs Restaurant, Upper High Street, Merthyr Tydfil
Balti Walla Restaurant, Upper High Street, Merthyr Tydfil
Sam’s, High Street, Cefn Coed Y Cymer

Bon appetit!

Delboy Smith
This article is only two years old, but look at the number of these establisments which are now closed. The economic slow down is certainly having it's effect. Even our beloved Bongs is no more. Life sucks.

The shortest ever season

2008-08-14T08:21:00.003+01:00

It was quiet apt that the new Dial M for Merthyr Webzine went live to the world yesterday, on the day news broke that our beloved club (lets be honest we now feel as close to the club as we would be to a Barry Town supporting step son) were served a winding up order. This is about the millionth time our club has faced closure since Dial M has been in print. Groundhog day Martyr fashion.

Lots of Merthyr fans are up in arms about the whole affairs, but here at Dial M towers we have the feeling of optimism and hope in our hearts. Stan’s period of ownership has seen crowds dwindle from 1000 plus for home games to crowds regularly under 200. Lets be honest you never believe the official crowd and a short game of count the crowd from the ‘Colin the Monk’ stand will always net you a sub 200 figure for regular league games.

The feeling of apathy that has haunted the club for the last 18 months could take the good ship down. Hopefully the Revenue’s action will spark a breakthrough moment and a change of ownership can be secured. Failing that we could be in a for another year of misery. The court case should reveal the true extent of the problems at PP and with those out in the open, there could be a way of getting the club back into the black and moving it in a positive direction.

Over the summer the directors have created a working group of volunteers that have been working their bums off at the ground, whilst these same directors have known about the winding up order since May. These workers have been duped and their actions have in reality been as effective as moving the deckchairs on the Titanic. They should have entered the season feeling euphoric and enthused, but Saturday’s game could be the one and only home fixture we face.

Some directors are blaming the supporters and the supporters trust for the failings of the club, but if there is little honesty from the club in the extent of it's problems, then how can the supporters help them. There is less than a week left to the high court hearing.

Enjoy the season ahead, however short it could be.
Dr. Obnoxious

Iberico at PP

2008-08-13T20:12:00.002+01:00

So what’s your half-time routine? Do you queue at the Penalty Spot café for the chips lottery? Or do you wait patiently at Terry’s gaff for a tea? Maybe you forsake the last 5 minutes of the half to get that half-time quencher in at Strikers? All wise choices but I say we should go Spanish in our approach to food & drink at Penydarren Park.

I’m not sure if it’s a trend across the Iberian peninsular but the Basques in particular take their own food & drink with them to the stadium, be it Bilbao or San Sebastian. I think we should follow suit, it may not be a sheepskin full of Rioja or a choirizo baguette in our duffle bag but why not a bottle of Rhymney Dark or hipflask of Penderyn whiskey to ward off the dark spirits on a wet Tuesday at home to Corby? As for food, what’s the issue? I’d recommend a full Swansea Road picnic. Pasties, pies, crisps, sausage on sticks, just the basics. Instead of that queue or that trudge to Strikers, we should be sitting in discussion groups on the Wank Bank, passing around the bottle of red wine and the Y Fenni cheese platter whilst discussing the performance of the Bristol referee or why Danny Carter still looks fitter than half the team.

The end result of this motivation of self-service trend would surely be for the Club to save money on personnel and stock by closing all the tea bars and Strikers, no more worries about licensing hours and wedding bookings instead Penydarren Park would become the pic-nic capital of the Valleys. Each lunchtime the pitch would be filled with the happy workers from T-Mobile and the Assembly Government all tucking into their Brie & Grape sandwiches whilst raising a glass of Merlot to the past glories of Merthyr Tydfil FC. A new bohemian outlook for the people of Merthyr would surely develop, resulting in the end of party politics in the borough (just think no more Tony Chaplin letters in the Express) and a period of enlightenment for all its citizens.

All it takes is a couple of ham sandwiches and a bottle of Dandelion & Burdock – think about it!
Chairman Mao

Global geo-economic pressure and the Terraces of Penydarren Park

2008-08-01T10:55:00.002+01:00

It cannot have passed your attention but the world seems to be gripped by a global credit freeze with many economists having to raid each other’s thesaurus to find another word for recession, so how will the economic downturn (oh no I’m doing it now, damn you global media!) affect the Martyrs? What can we do to ride out the credit crunch and reach the golden sands of financial safety? It’s going to be tough, the rise in the price of oil affects us all especially as we reach the “peak-oil” period in the UK (we’ve probably already passed it), our domestic stocks can only diminish so we spend more resources seeking the ever-decreasing stocks around the globe, hello Antarctica!! The hike in oil prices causes an effect felt through transport to the very commodities in those Eddie Stobart lorries criss-crossing the country, we have to become self-sufficient at Penydarren Park.

So allow me to confirm stage one in the Dial M For Merthyr New Economic Plan; gather up your forks, shovels and hoes (no, not those ones) and meet me on the Theatre End as we unveil the new allotment society. All the players will be fed in-house with a diet of root vegetables maintaining our athletes for the campaign ahead. No longer will we have the luxury of practice matches on the current wasteland, the Board is to be congratulated for their foresight in adapting the area to agricultural use. What cannot be consumed by the players will be used as barter within the Borough of Merthyr Tydfil as the current capitalist society obviously collapses under the strain of the demise of oil, a few dozen beetroots will pay for the tandem bicycles required to transport the squad to our away match at Chepstow (it’s a long way but all down-hill thankfully for the lads, the return journey is a killer but as fans the game will be over so we won’t care). As you can see the Southern League will be configured on a regional basis, although if we maintain a large herd of Welsh mountain ponies above Bedlinog we could find ourselves in the Premier League.

Our squad of horsemen will be free to roam the island the week before matches using the goods produced at Penydarren Park as barter for accommodation and training areas. This doomsday scenario presents a problem for the Travel Club but a precendent has already been set, the bicycle trip from Merthyr to Bristol has shown that Merthyr fans are resourceful and no OPEC monopoly will change our desire to follow the fortunes of the Martyrs.

Football was first noted in the medieval period, the odds are that in the foreseeable future that the world could be heading for an equitable period in its history. Football will be there to entertain the peasants and from the spirit and expertise concentrated at Penydarren Park, you can be sure that Merthyr Tydfil FC will be there selling snake oil on the way but bringing home the points. The UEFA Cup may be an issue but I have a friend who owns a Viking long-ship in Porthcawl. Bilbao, here we come!!!

Chairman Mao

Bristol or Bust - March 2008

2008-07-31T21:20:00.006+01:00

Sometimes the mind of Wolvesy can have some stupid ideas. Sometimes I laugh at them, sometimes I just shake my head in dismay at the fact that they actually came out of his mouth, rarely do I say, “Yeah I’m up for that”. Well the phone call I got as he and the ‘Nut of Wingedness’ returned from the Swans v Leeds game must have caught me unaware. Within two minutes I agreed to ride a bike to Mangotsfield in six weeks time to raise money for the club. I didn’t even have a bike for god’s sake!!!!
Within ten days I’m on the Taff trail from Aberfan about half way through a 10 mile training ride trying to quantify how stupid an idea it was. As we approached Rhydycar the chain jumped off the cog and I hit the handle bars with a thump, I knew the bike was an alien concept to me and that this idea was by far the most stupid one he’d ever come up with. Wolvesy left me and Wingnut to head off to Helogerrg, little did either of us know that as he went around the corner he fell off the bike and collapsed in the grass with exhaustion. That’ll learn him and his beer fueled brain.
You get the idea to this point, we were far from ready, but as the five weeks progressed the training got easier and a week before the big day we even left the borough of Merthyr for a brief few minutes. I felt like an explorer from the 15th century, with people telling me how daft an idea it was. I simply held the belief that Bristol was ‘downhill all the way’, in the same way Ferdinand Magellen told the Portugese that the world was in fact round. Magellen was right and I was kidding myself with bravado, as I was soon to find out. I’d also been given a ton of advice from experienced cyclists and the school of thought was that Bananas and Tracker bars were the best source of energy and should be consumed at every possible chance.
The day came for the big ride and I met Sparky, Kyle, Ricky, Wolvesy and Wingnut at the gates of PP. Dai ‘The Exile’ Webb was there in the support vehicle. I did worry when he reported that he had no tools, oil or life support equipment. He had no bananas and there wasn’t a tracker bar to be seen. Who organised him? He did have about 60 litres of Mango Powerade on board, a taste I would learn to hate with a passion in the next 27 hours. In fact Mango juice now equals pain in my mind and will do so until the day I die. The tracker bars I’d packed also tasted like cardboard as you’d expect.
I realised as I left PP that I only had two of the twenty one gears on my bike working – 12th and 14th, this was the same amount as Kyle. What Kyle had over me was the snapped cruciate he’d suffered 18 months earlier – by god he’s a tough boy and would suffer over the next 65 miles. Ricky was going to lead the way from the off as he made light work of the whole day, not once did he get out of the saddle to push. The rest of us were the wrong side of thirty and we slowly put Quakers Yard, Nelson, Ystrad and Measycymmer on the list of been there. I’d eaten 4 tracker bars to date.
The first hairy moment happened at Cross Keys where a wrong turn saw us heading down the dual carriageway. A road full of huge lorries soon had Papa Wolf shaking like a shitting dog. We soon got into Risca in one piece and needed to find the canal. Sparky asked an old lady at a bus stop to point us the way and in doing so she missed her bus. Not one of us cared to apologies – we were on a mission after all. Within minutes of finding the canal we hit an area called ‘Fourteen Locks’. This part of the run is a similar to Regent Street in Dowlais, but is around 4 miles long. We hit the bottom in about five minutes and we ranged from shades of light white to a dark white – it was scary but as our motto of the day read, “Downhill is the future”. As we entered Newport I ate a tracker bar to calm my nerves.
In minutes we made it to County’s Spytty Park. The welcome was piss poor, they let us use the bogs, but other than that it was just like usual – short on entertainment and smiles.
The next part of the ride I will skirt over as the road from Newport to Chepstow would send the most ardent insomniac off to the land of nod. Needless to say the coastal wind tested our resolve and I consumed another 4 tracker bars. PlasMeyrick saw the Ginger Giant net an unwelcome puncture, but within minutes we were on the old Severn Bridge. Scary? Big time! Hail, gale force winds and a twenty mile an hour speed limit were on offer. I did have to slow down so the speed traps didn’t catch me out – Sorry I could have walked across quicker I was that tired. I was to the point of giving up and so were the rest of the MTFC newly formed Bike Club. The Travelodge in Aust was a welcome site and after eight hours in the saddle the 90 minutes I spent in the hot bath was bliss.
A bit of dinner and eight pints of Stella later, I can’t remember returning to the Lodge. The following day was a piece of cake, with the 15 miles completed in two hours. We arrived at 11am in Mangotsfield and the Mango bar staff looked after us with beer, chips and a free entry. Wolvesy fell asleep in the pub before becoming Mrs Wolves, with a transvestite act of perverse levels. I was that tired and getting drunk that he started to look slightly attractive by half time.
Dai Twigg somehow caught us up by doing the trip in five hours, sadly he was disqualified from the day as he looked like an extra from Ali Baba and the 40 thieves when he turned up. Surely cyclists do not need to look so pseudo-erotic to hit the road at such speeds.
The reception we received entering the ground was by all accounts awe inspiring with mams, dads and kids cheering us in. It was appreciated, but wasted on me as we’d been in the pub for nearly three hours and I was just about capable of pedalling the 200 yards to the ground. Thanks anyway if you did stand there and cheer us home.
Merthyr won thanks to goals from Marcus Griffiths and Mike Jones and by Nine O’Clock I had to make a bee-line for my bed as exhaustion had set in. We made around £1,800 for the club and were repaid with a ban from the directors – how much of an own goal was that. Whatever they do, they will not break our spirit and our ability to carry out the stupid ideas of the fool from Heolgerrig. Next year he has promised us a rowing boat to Weston Super Mare or riding a horse to Gloucester – Anyone up for either?
Eddie Mercs

TV or not TV – that is the question! - 1989

2008-07-31T21:00:00.005+01:00

This article was from the first issue of 'Dial M for Merthyr', written by Wolvesy.

This article is based on the BBC Wales’s attitude to football now that the ITV regions have the rights to Barclays League football action. The BBC Wales Sports Desk might as well be called the BBC Wales Rugby Sports Desk from now as football coverage is down to a minimum, which is not surprising since HTV have the rights to the Cardiff, Swansea and Wrexham League action. BUT the point is that the BBC have not realised that there is a lot of great football action in Wales outside the Big Three. For instance Bangor City, Caernarfon and Rhyl’s efforts in the HFS Loans League could be mentioned every week or so with possibly some goals shown with the report. Alternatively and closer to home, Merthyr must be given more coverage this year. The League run-in last season brought the BBC cameras to the Park and it must be said that the coverage was excellent with great goal action and superb interviews with Lyn Jones and John Reddy.
Barry Town and Newport County will this year both be in a different league (well Barry might be if the Welsh FA change their minds and allow them into the Hellenic League) and both these teams will have great local support which the BBC could tap into.
A weekly Welsh League slot would be the most encouraging as that would improve the presentation of the Abacus Welsh League.
The plain fact is however that a large amount of football supporters in Wales watch non-league football and they have been ignored long enough by the media. The BBC in particular now has the chance to provide a weekly insight that would, I believe, be immensely popular in Wales. One last thing, a message to HTV Wales. The coverage of the Wrexham play-off run was appalling. The people of North Wales deserve better coverage of their only League representative.

Wolvesy
Postscript: About a week after the fanzine came out I was awoken from my mid morning doley slumber by a call from Gareth Davies, the then Head of BBC Wales Sport, who assured me that the BBC were to cover Merthyr’s matches and that they were committed to the non-league game in Wales.

Welcome

2008-07-31T19:05:00.003+01:00

Welcome to Dial M for Merthyr the Web-blog.