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Memories of WGS


kwsaint

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Watching the highlights of Scotland last Friday playing like a WGS side reminded me of the 2 1/2 years he spent with Saints.

 

Apart from the cup final, his post match interviews were priceless. After a win at Liverpool that put us 4th he was asked how he was going to celebrate. 'I am going to have a mars bar and a can of coke and watch teletext' was the reply.

 

Other memories?

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Just imagine a WGS Nigel Adkins double act in interviews

 

Please, no. You're not even comparing apples with oranges, let alone apples with apples.

 

Strachan. Former top flight and international player with some of the best quips football has ever seen. Brevity the soul of wit.

 

Adkins. Can speak for yonks without actually saying anything. We had "manager blindness" when he was in charge, but he was a cliche factory.

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My personal favourite memory is sitting in a press conference of his and a male reports asked a question regarding Jason Dodd (I think) that could be quite offensive. He replied "if you say that to him he'll rip those pretty blonde highlights of of your head". That reported looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

 

Wish I could remember the question. There must be a recording of it somewhere.

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I remember sitting in the Itchen about 7 rows back near the bench and WGS starts swearing at a bad decision by the ref. He then notices there is a ball boy in his teens sat near the dug out and goes over to apologise about the swearing! The ball boy must have been a foot taller than WGS and kept saying it's ok but WGS wouldn't stop apologising!

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Am I the only one to think that WGS's "wit" is rather over-rated?

 

The journalists are just trying to do their job. On some days, they might not be doing it particularly well - just like football players and football managers.

 

It's easy to be a smart-arse. Most post-game interviews deliver little real insight. But given the choice between Nigel Adkins' earnest and repetitive talks, and Strachan's quick-to-the quip lips, I prefer the honest and respectful style of NA, over the glib entertainment of WGS's approach. It seems to me that the manager's first obligation, if they agree to do the interview, is to respond to the questions (as boring, clichéd, or inept as they might be), rather than to put the interviewer down.

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Am I the only one to think that WGS's "wit" is rather over-rated?

 

The journalists are just trying to do their job. On some days, they might not be doing it particularly well - just like football players and football managers.

 

It's easy to be a smart-arse. Most post-game interviews deliver little real insight. But given the choice between Nigel Adkins' earnest and repetitive talks, and Strachan's quick-to-the quip lips, I prefer the honest and respectful style of NA, over the glib entertainment of WGS's approach. It seems to me that the manager's first obligation, if they agree to do the interview, is to respond to the questions (as boring, clichéd, or inept as they might be), rather than to put the interviewer down.

 

Can't agree, WGS tended not to take fools lightly rather then simply be glib or entertaining for the sake of it. Certainly he isn't random for the sake of attention like Ian Holloway.

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My favourite Saints manager in the relatively short time I've been supporting the club by quite some way. It's possible the next decade will bring us greater success than he did, but I'll still miss those days.

 

Do you think he's fulfilled his potential since he left Saints? If not, why is that, do you think?

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To be perfectly honest I haven't followed him very closely - I suppose that's your answer. I was only a kid when he left so I'm not well-positioned to really analyse his performance with us either. Just rose-tinted nostalgia for me.

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Am I the only one to think that WGS's "wit" is rather over-rated?

 

The journalists are just trying to do their job. On some days, they might not be doing it particularly well - just like football players and football managers.

 

It's easy to be a smart-arse. Most post-game interviews deliver little real insight. But given the choice between Nigel Adkins' earnest and repetitive talks, and Strachan's quick-to-the quip lips, I prefer the honest and respectful style of NA, over the glib entertainment of WGS's approach. It seems to me that the manager's first obligation, if they agree to do the interview, is to respond to the questions (as boring, clichéd, or inept as they might be), rather than to put the interviewer down.

 

Adkins is no more honest than WGS, and certainly no less glib with his off-the-peg rentaquotes.

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I have a lot of time for WGS. I interviewed him for Beautiful South quite early on, his training sessions were light years away from Hoddle and Gray, high impact and intensive they focused on one touch football and physical fitness. He and Paul Telfer would often nip off for run after the training session which always amused me as everyone else looked knackered.

In terms of interviews he was ruthless, if he didn't like you or you ****ed up he'd be on it like a flash. Show a bit of respect, be measured in your approach and he was great fun. I remember Meridian getting the run around, I got 40 minutes with him which rather ****ed them off...

Right man, right place, right time... I'll always love the guy...

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Am I the only one to think that WGS's "wit" is rather over-rated?

 

The journalists are just trying to do their job. On some days, they might not be doing it particularly well - just like football players and football managers.

 

It's easy to be a smart-arse. Most post-game interviews deliver little real insight. But given the choice between Nigel Adkins' earnest and repetitive talks, and Strachan's quick-to-the quip lips, I prefer the honest and respectful style of NA, over the glib entertainment of WGS's approach. It seems to me that the manager's first obligation, if they agree to do the interview, is to respond to the questions (as boring, clichéd, or inept as they might be), rather than to put the interviewer down.

 

Yes, you are.

 

Journalists are lazy, biased, self-opinionated and cunning. Strachan makes them look like the tw*ts they are.

 

I miss him too. Ramirez wouldnt be lasting just 60mins if WGS were still here. He' play the whole 90 like a spring chicken or he'd be gone.

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Think we had just lost at home to Boro and WGS was asked by the dumb arsed reporter, "So, Gordon, in what areas do you think Middlesbrough were better than you today?"

 

The reply from WGS ... "What areas? Mainly that big green one out there..."

 

Absolutely priceless.

 

Amusing but I'm not sure that's a particularly 'dumb arsed' question

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Am I the only one to think that WGS's "wit" is rather over-rated?

 

The journalists are just trying to do their job. On some days, they might not be doing it particularly well - just like football players and football managers.

 

It's easy to be a smart-arse. Most post-game interviews deliver little real insight. But given the choice between Nigel Adkins' earnest and repetitive talks, and Strachan's quick-to-the quip lips, I prefer the honest and respectful style of NA, over the glib entertainment of WGS's approach. It seems to me that the manager's first obligation, if they agree to do the interview, is to respond to the questions (as boring, clichéd, or inept as they might be), rather than to put the interviewer down.

 

And when football managers perform below par, those journalists slaughter them. Fair is fair, why shouldn't football manager have a pop when the Journos are substandard.

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And when football managers perform below par, those journalists slaughter them. Fair is fair, why shouldn't football manager have a pop when the Journos are substandard.

Frequently they aren't substandard though - they are simply asking the questions readers / viewers want to know the answer to - even though yes, the manager might have answered that before and the journo already knows the answer but still needs a quote.

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Am I the only one to think that WGS's "wit" is rather over-rated?

 

 

I don't think many of his comments were as hilarious as they've subsequently been made out to be, I just think that having any wit at all made him stand out from the usual endless cliches. If one of my mates had said the "velocity" thing, I don't think it would have raised that many laughs and we certainly wouldn't be still talking about it ten years later.

 

Instead of him being a great wit, I think he was just more refreshing and entertaining to listen to. I don't think there's any alternative career in comedy waiting.

 

So yes, I agree, over-rated as wit, but the value was in having a manager with any wit at all, you have to appreciate that.

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I don't know if it was true, but I did enjoy this story...

 

We'd just been beaten at home 0-1, it was a dour match, I can't remember who. (Also, it may have been a draw, can't remember).

 

Anyway, WGS got them all in for training on a Sunday, early doors at an arranged time. The players all arrived, but there was no WGS. WGS calls Pendrey, and tells him to tell the players he's going to be 15 minutes late. 15 minutes later, he calls again. He repeats and rinses the excuse until 90 minutes elapses. Finally, after the 90 mins was up, he arrives.

 

His reasoning? "You wasted 90 minutes of my time on Saturday, so I wasted 90 minutes of yours".

 

Don't know how that was received by a bunch of Premier League footballers but still, I like the story and I like the style.

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Haven't you got somewhere better you could be spending your time? I think you need to go back to where you belong.

 

You know I would like nothing more than to pop round and see your Fine Family of Scandinavians - to take a look at what you've done with the place, catch up with what the grown-ups are doing these days, see the precocious kids who must be all grown up now, and the fat one who most probably isn't. Why I'll bet there are even a few new little sprogs running around in the clan!

 

However I'm not sure that I'd be welcomed any more. Too much time has passed since I walked out on those noble sentinels. I made my decision and I have to live with that now. Sure, to my face they'd be all peaches and cream, but deep down there would be a sadness. There would be resentment. There would be gossiping, and snigg*ring, and subtle jibes that go over my head. "Oh here comes the last of the famous, International Playboys", they'd mock. I'd be the prodigal son returning without even the redeeming qualities of being broke, being broken or having any kind of commitment to stay. In short - a tw*t. In the words of JC: everybody hates a tourist. It wouldn't be fair. I've made my bloody, treacherous bed and now I have to lie in it. Those who falter, and those who fall, must pay the price.

 

Just know that I treasure every one of the little critters in your wonderful abode, and go about your ways safe in the knowledge that there will always be a little bit of my heart devoted to it.

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We have a great photo on the side of my, then little, girls, Mrs JBS and Gordon. The Girls had been getting the players autographs after a game and WGS came out the girls being 10 & 9 and having gotten confident in asking the players themselves rushed up to him got their autograph and asked for a photo, just as they were posing Mrs JBS is joining in at which he sticks his arm round her cuddles the 3 of them up to him and says "oh good a family photo!" Producing great smiles from them all.

 

On the pitch erasing that last 10 minute atmosphere from pure dread, to expectation as we could see the players were fit enough to play 120 minutes due to the regime WGS brought to training. Good days and smashing memories for my kids

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I don't know if it was true, but I did enjoy this story...

 

We'd just been beaten at home 0-1, it was a dour match, I can't remember who. (Also, it may have been a draw, can't remember).

 

Anyway, WGS got them all in for training on a Sunday, early doors at an arranged time. The players all arrived, but there was no WGS. WGS calls Pendrey, and tells him to tell the players he's going to be 15 minutes late. 15 minutes later, he calls again. He repeats and rinses the excuse until 90 minutes elapses. Finally, after the 90 mins was up, he arrives.

 

His reasoning? "You wasted 90 minutes of my time on Saturday, so I wasted 90 minutes of yours".

 

Don't know how that was received by a bunch of Premier League footballers but still, I like the story and I like the style.

 

The story is true Crab, however he phoned them after 90 minutes and said something like 'you wasted my time and now I've wasted yours, goodbye.'

 

That was all he said before hanging up to Pendry.

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You know I would like nothing more than to pop round and see your Fine Family of Scandinavians - to take a look at what you've done with the place, catch up with what the grown-ups are doing these days, see the precocious kids who must be all grown up now, and the fat one who most probably isn't. Why I'll bet there are even a few new little sprogs running around in the clan!

 

However I'm not sure that I'd be welcomed any more. Too much time has passed since I walked out on those noble sentinels. I made my decision and I have to live with that now. Sure, to my face they'd be all peaches and cream, but deep down there would be a sadness. There would be resentment. There would be gossiping, and snigg*ring, and subtle jibes that go over my head. "Oh here comes the last of the famous, International Playboys", they'd mock. I'd be the prodigal son returning without even the redeeming qualities of being broke, being broken or having any kind of commitment to stay. In short - a tw*t. In the words of JC: everybody hates a tourist. It wouldn't be fair. I've made my bloody, treacherous bed and now I have to lie in it. Those who falter, and those who fall, must pay the price.

 

Just know that I treasure every one of the little critters in your wonderful abode, and go about your ways safe in the knowledge that there will always be a little bit of my heart devoted to it.

 

 

Don't you dare act all deano about it, firstly, it's not the same and secondly, deano's come home! Now stop sulking and get back home now to say hello.

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