The Madness of the Managers

•June 16, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Sven Goran Eriksson was largely a very good manager for England. Then he snapped. Was it the constant media sniping, or just being too long in the job? I don’t know. Whatever the reason, when it came to World Cup 2006 in Germany, he decided to take one fit striker (Peter Crouch), one crocked striker (Michael Owen), one speedy schoolboy (Theo Walcott) who hadn’t even played a minute of Premier League football and a brilliant attacking midfielder (the then Wayne Rooney), but a player recovering from injury.

Schoolboy Theo Walcott

Readers of the Johnny Mackintosh books will know I’m a football fan, and I went to Germany for the bitterly disappointing tournament. It was the maddest of possible selections – Michael Owen dragged his injured body off the pitch in the group stages, never to return and we were bereft. Back in those days, when Rooney collected the ball in midfield and ran at the opposition, he was as frighteningly good as Messi, but he hadn’t played as a striker before and, however talented he is, didn’t know the role. When it came to the crunch, not even Sven believed in his Walcott gamble. When the team needed a spark of inspiration, young Theo remained an embarrassed spectator on the bench.

This time around, England sailed through qualification; Capello said all the right things about not taking injured players, only selecting players in form and not picking people who weren’t playing for his clubs. The horror of the vuvuzelas hadn’t then begun, so we can’t blame them for Fabio’s madness, but at the eleventh hour he too went barking mad and performed a volte face on his stated position.

Heskey flaunting the flag of St George?

Inexplicably, into the squad came Jamie Carragher, a man who retired from international football years ago and has had a simply terribly season for mid-table Liverpool. Into the squad came Ledley King, a man permanently injured. We also have Emile Ivanhoe Heskey, who may have the coolest middle name of any England player, but can’t get in the Aston Villa team (as well as not being able to score a goal). Finally, from nowhere we have Shaun Wright Phillips, far down the pecking order at Manchester City behind the sadly discarded Adam Johnson.

The best English centreback this serason has been Michael Dawson. He received a belated call up to the squad with Ferdinand’s sad loss, but should have been on the plane ahead of King or Carragher. Even now, he’s uncapped, and time is running out to play him.

Heskey is big and powerful, but can’t score; Crouch is big but lightweight, but scores lots. Sadly (and it’s not their fault), as soon as either goes onto the teamsheet, England play hoofball. The only way to progress in the World Cup is to keep the ball and to move it quickly from man to man, creating openings. Every punt to Heskey or Crouch is a 50:50 ball which, if we lose it, means we spend several minutes and lots of energy winning the ball back, only to punt it forward again. By all means take Crouch because he is different and does score, but only play him as a last resort  if we need a goal in the final half-hour of a game.

Fabio was probably right not to take Walcott, but Wright Phillips offers nothing better. The balance of the squad would have worked better with his Manchester City teammate Adam Johnson, much preferred by their club manager, Roberto Mancini.

I do think Barry will be fine, and will benefit from the rest (he looked jaded all through the second half of last season), so at least I agree with the manager there. However, with all the passengers now in South Africa, we’re down the bare bones of a winning squad.

Psycho - penalty miss

In Italia 90, after a dreadful opening, player power dictated a change of formation and method. Into the side came the incomparable Mark Wright as sweeper, and the team didn’t look back until first Stuart Pearce and then Chris Waddle fluffed their lines (rumour has it Waddle’s penalty went into orbit, he ballooned it so high). The pundits are now saying we have to change our formation for the later stages, but that’s too late if we’re to get used to it and learn to play incisive keepball on the ground. We’ve got to start now and hopefully the players will demand it if Capello himself can’t see it.

How Waddle's penalty went into orbit

Other than the keeper, the team for England versus Algeria picks itself:

GK: James/Hart/Green

RB: Johnson (could be the star of the tournament)

LB: A Cole

CD: Dawson

CD: Terry

CM: Barry

CM: Lampard

RM: Lennon

LM: J Cole

In the hole: Gerrard

CF: Rooney

I hope Signore Capello is reading this, or it could be a very miserable next month.

Posted in Football, World Cup
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Maggie’s Animal Life

•March 27, 2010 • 1 Comment

On Wednesday evening I found myself trudging home late at night through the kind of incessant downpour you feel is never going to end. Rain that infuses every part of you, seeping up your trousers, down your sleeves and occasionally washing over you as a car drives past too quickly. My thoughts turned to a marvelously funny, insightful and poignant novel I read recently called The Flood, by Maggie Gee.

Set in the City, where it’s always raining, flood waters are steadily on the rise. Battered boats rescued from scrapyards serve as makeshift buses for the tower blocks, around which the waters are rumoured to have been diverted from the city centre. In that centre, the wealthy are ferried to the opera in gondolas. While all the inhabitants of the city are struggling not to drown in their various problems, their President Bliss tries to deflect attention to far away, pursuing a Blair-like war against the unfortunate inhabitants of a  poor distant country. Neither his cabinet nor the general population has any enthusiasm for the crusade, but somehow Bliss is able to continue with the war (for the sake of peace, naturally).

As well as the rain, I was thinking of this particular novel because I was travelling home from the launch of Maggie’s latest book,  My Animal Life. I’m not sure the Al Saqi bookshop on Westbourne Grove has ever been so crowded. Three of us were there because we’d all had the privilege of meeting Maggie a year earlier, and sharing a writing month with her at Hawthornden Castle as the finishing touches were put to this memoir (I was beginning Johnny Mackintosh: Battle for Earth). It’s a wonderful thing to see a physical book when you were also able to watch it in the late stages of development in the womb. It’s also great to meet fellow writers and on the night I chatted with several I’d not met before.

Maggie spent a little time in conversation with Colin Grant, another author as well as BBC World Service Broadcaster, talking particularly about the candour of her new book, and what had led her to write about herself rather than her characters. Maggie’s a very deep thinker. She puts a lot of science in her books, she’s often tackled difficult themes (check out The White Family), and she comes across as very honest and full of love. While Colin asked her about “sex”, she ended their conversation saying the greatest taboo in writing is “love”. As the place was bursting at the seams, concerned for her audience, it wasn’t long before she stood to read to us from My Animal Life.

I had a very religious upbringing and, although I know now that we’re from all the same stuff as the other creatures on the planet, I still often think of people as separate from animals. That’s strange because my philosophy is very anti the rationalist/logical school that’s dominated so much of our thinking since the Greeks. Intellectually, I believe we’re social creatures, rarely motivated by logic precisely because of our animal nature (if you force me to argue rationally). There’s nothing dirty or disappointing about calling ourselves “animals” – it’s what we are and we should embrace that. Maggie certainly does that, but it doesn’t stop her wondering about some of the great mysteries of life. Some questions she opens the new book with, saying she wants to explore, are:

“Can I save my belief in the the soul from my love of science?

Why do we need art? Why are we driven to make it?

How do we forgive ourselves? And our parents?”

I know the book’s going to be wise, funny, honest and interesting. I’m sure there’ll be something in it for writers everywhere. But I know I’m lucky to have met Maggie and I’ve benefited from spending time with he, so I’d urge everyone to do the same by reading her new memoir.

Posted in Authors, Book signings, Publishing Industry
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You have one day to go into space

•March 22, 2010 • Leave a Comment

I just realized today is the very last day to send your name into space (with an accompanying message if you like) aboard a genuine solar sailing ship. IKAROS (the Interplanetary Kite-craft Accelerated by Radiation Of the Sun – OK the acronym’s a little contrived) will be launched by JAXA, the Japanese Space Agency, later in the year, together with the Venus Climate Orbiter.

Readers of Johnny Mackintosh: Star Blaze will know that brother and sister pairing, Erin and Zeta, fly a solar sailing ship called the Falling Star. Within our solar system, the Sun’s solar wind wouldn’t be strong enough on it’s own to propel a ship, so we’ll need lasers to force it along. However, within Erin and Zeta’s home system of Alnitak there’s an unusually strong solar wind, which is probably why they developed such a vessel.

I’ve sent a message into space, as have Johnny and Clara. They’ll be launched on a DVD carried by the spacecraft – why don’t you join us?

Posted in Clara Mackintosh, Johnny Mackintosh, Science
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Self-portrait

•March 22, 2010 • Leave a Comment

They say the eyes are the windows of the soul. I went to the opticians today and came back with these pictures of mine:

The yellow dots in the middle are my optic nerves. You can see the dominant colour is green (a little like Johnny Mackintosh), but I have darker, brown areas while Johnny has silver flecks. I love the detail, that these look like the landscapes of strange alien worlds. The strange black lines on the right eye, like death spikes of an Andromedan Star Destroyer, are my overlong eyelashes.

Posted in Johnny Mackintosh, Portraits
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Science Oxford Webcast

•March 18, 2010 • Leave a Comment

On Tuesday I gave my Starstuff & Supergiants talk at Science Oxford, as part of the Oxfordshire Science Festival. In a way it was a bit of the science behind the Johnny Mackintosh stories. I spoke about how the speed of light is a universal speed limit and time travel is (perhaps) a one-way street, and how the large hadron collider is a time machine (as well as everything else). I explained how stars are the atom factories of the universe and talked about the way stars die, sometimes in a supernova (what readers will realize the alien races of the galaxy call Star Blaze). Thanks to everyone at Science Oxford for giving me the opportunity, and to all those who came out on a Tuesday night to listen. If anyone missed it, there is no escape. The whole thing is available as a webcast from the Science Oxford site.

The talk was very much a tribute to Carl Sagan and I was pleased to give Chandra a namecheck as well. I enjoyed it – hope you all do too.

Posted in Book signings, Public appearances, Science, space, Star Blaze, Sun
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On the Radio

•March 15, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Today I caught up with BBC Radio Oxford’s Jo Thoenes to spread the word about Johnny Mackintosh: Star Blaze and my Starstuff & Supergiants talk at Science Oxford tomorrow. Eighteen months ago I was doing a book signing in Blackwell’s Oxford, and Jo interviewed me then to talk about Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London and my ten years living in Oxford.

For one week only, until the BBC’s iPlayer moves on, you can listen to this afternoon’s interview. It’s between 2:37:25 and 2:42:30.

Posted in Book signings, Public appearances, Star Blaze
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Starstuff & Supergiants

•March 14, 2010 • 2 Comments

On Tuesday I’m heading over to Science Oxford to give a talk on Starstuff and Supergiants, which will be a bit of a science of Johnny Mackintosh sort of thing. I came up with the title ages ago, with no plan of what I was going to say on the subject. I thought I’d have months to prepare – where does the time go?

Happily, it’s kind of all sorted and I’m hoping to make it as fun as I can and also inspiring. It’s the first time in my life people are paying to see me (the princely sum of £3), so I’m desperate to give everyone their money’s worth, and a bit more besides. It will be great (if scary) if the place is full.  Science Oxford is

1-5 London Place
Oxford
OX4 1BD

This is part of the wider Oxford Science Festival that runs to the 21st March. If you can’t be there in person, I have a dreadful feeling this might be webcast at some point. Just off to buy props…

Posted in Book signings, Johnny Mackintosh, Science, space, Star Blaze
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(Another) Night at the Opera

•February 2, 2010 • Leave a Comment

It’s not often that singing superstars Katherine Jenkins and Rolando Villazon are to be found a few yards in front of you belting out YMCA, complete with actions. So begins Friday evening at ITV’s London Studios for the latest instalment of Popstar to Operastar. Jenkins and Villazon are joined by fellow judges Meat Loaf and Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen, equally good sports as they whip the audience up before filming begins.

It’s week three and Blur’s Alex James and The Saturday’s Vanessa White have both left the show. I have the best seat in the house, right beside Rolando and Katherine, to discover who will be next. Rolando sets the bar high, performing an epic pre-record that the world will hear while they’re awaiting the results of the public vote. It must be nerve wracking enough for whichever competitor goes first, but following that would be especially daunting.

Marshy gets the gig. That’s how she’s known to fellow Hear’Sayer and co-host Mylene Klass, but to much of the nation Kym Marsh is also Michelle Connor, barmaid of Corrie’s Rover’s Return. She starts us off singing Habanera from Carmen, armed with a black Spanish fan to hide behind. The performance over, Klass’s co-star Alan Titchmarsh quizzes the judges.

“Meat” starts the ball rolling saying, “That was like sex. One minute, forty-five seconds of pure ecstasy.” The one-time scriptwriter in me is praying one of the other panelists will respond with, “That’s a long time for you, Meat,” but they’re all far too kind and the moment passes.

During the breaks, Katherine and Rolando’s stylists rush in to beautify their charges. As magic potions are sprayed onto Rolando’s ringlets, I ask if they might help regrow my own disappearing locks.

Before the show I tweeted that Jimmy Osmond would be next to go. He surprises me and the panel by turning in a decent operatic performance of Amor Ti Vieta. Afterwards, he comes up and shakes all the judges’ hands, coming across as a totally great and genuine guy.

The other performers left in are Marcella Detroit, Danny from McFly, Darius and Bernadette Nolan. I’m sitting behind Marcella’s friends and family (with the McFly boys, their girlfriends and Katherine’s mum a couple of rows in front). Everyone’s nervous because Marcella’s up next singing Queen of the Night from The Magic Flute, apparently the most difficult piece in the opera canon. As she reaches the end, pretty well note perfect, and hits the highest, most difficult to reach one of them all, Rolando beside me punches the air in triumph. If you’re quick enough to catch this week’s video on the website, you’ll see me laughing beside him (1:03 to 1:10 seconds in).

Clearly nervous after a failed rehearsal, Danny takes a while to get going, but finishes strongly. The panel are still quite damning. It’s because he’s not fulfilling his potential – there’s a clear desire for everyone to do well. Danny’s upset. Katherine’s upset that they were too hard on Danny and wonders about finding him to apologize. While this is a live show, during the VTs (videotape inserts) and the ad breaks there’s plenty of time to stretch your legs and wander around. All the while the crew on the studio floor perform magnificently – I’ve worked on some live shows and it was the best drilled group I’d seen.

Darius (hit my baby one more … time) Danesh/Campbell has had a bad week. You can tell because there are dancers on stage, a sure sign the producers want to distract from the vocals. They needn’t have worried. Opera suits the once pony-tailed would-have-been Pop Idol, and he rises to the occasion. Last comes Bernie Nolan. If you, like me, recall the original Nolan Sisters (who later underwent a radical rebrand to the Nolans), you wouldn’t have expected too much from the final act of the evening. You’d also have been very surprised. Bernie pulled it off big time – I thought it all the more impressive she had to sing some of the piece sitting down (on a chez longue Llewelyn-Bowen could easily have leant the studio for the occasion). We awaited the vote.

I love the way all these shows announce the acts going through “in no particular order”, giving strategists and psychologists hours of potential fun wondering who should be announced when for maximum impact on future shows. Sadly, I can’t even remember the order now, but we were left with Danny and Jimmy standing before the judges. My earlier prediction hit the spot and the one-time long-haired lover from Liverpool is the one to go.

Afterwards it’s back to the green room, past various interviews taking place behind the scenes. The stars change and make their way up to join us. I’m struck by the great vibe all round – everyone’s friendly and happy to talk. Katherine looks after her mum while my friend Eddie forces me to take a photo of him with Kym Marsh, who’s totally lovely and happy to oblige. Had I remembered, I could have reminded her that the first (and only other) time I saw her, was in another ITV green room when I was talking with Midge Ure. Way back then, Marshy asked Midge for his autograph, so there’s no need to be embarrassed.

A great way to spend a Friday night and very different indeed from my last night at the opera – with only three shows left, I hope I’m able to get back for another.

Posted in music, Opera, TV
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The Longest Day

•January 25, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Some people say there just aren’t enough hours in the day. Earlier this week, mine lasted 32 hours, beginning with a grand American breakfast (eggs sunnyside up) in downtown San Francisco, followed by a cable car ride up Nob Hill, clinging onto the outside which they’d never let you do in London.

A little shopping preceded a walk along the waterfront, staring out towards The Rock, otherwise known as Alcatraz, on which Jo Rowling’s Dementor-guarded prison of Azkaban was based. Her third title, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, is many reader’s favourite so it was fitting to see it as I’ve spent a little of the past few days getting back to the third Johnny Mackintosh book.

The Science of SpyingGreat cities have great architecture and San Fran is no exception. There’s the landmark Transamerica Tower and, as you can see above, I managed to catch a glimpse of the unforgettable Golden Gate Bridge from Fort Mason Hill before heading back towards the hotel, having lunch (a pastrami and swiss sandwich even Joey Tribbiani would have been proud of), and then on to the airport, scene of my first ever full body scan where the security guards can see right through your clothes (I felt so sorry for mine!). We talked about these on The Science of Spying exhibition that I worked on, so it’s amazing to see them already in action.

On the plane it was a lamb curry, two disappointing films (Aliens in the Attic and the animated 9) and a chat with neighbour Katy who showed me photos of the prizewinning cats she breeds. She’s also a dog lover and there’s an Old English sheepdog in the family, so we talked about Bentley. To get over the poor movies I also re-watched the first half of the terrific Time Traveler’s Wife, which is a splendid adaption of a great but difficult book to bring to the screen. I could be wrong but the film seemed to die in the UK from a near total lack of publicity, after a very delayed global release. Some fans of the book weren’t keen on the casting, but Rachel McAdams is seriously underrated and always splendid and Eric Bana did a great job too.

Sadly, not much time for sleep, before leaping onto the Heathrow Express and heading for lovely London town – it’s always good to come home after some time away. One of the tricks to defeat jetlag is to stay awake as long as possible and not succumb to the thought of “a little lie down” which could turn into several hours and then you’re scuppered for the week. To keep me going, I had the prospect of the 30th Brit Awards Launch Party to look forward to, which was happily an early evening affair.

Arriving at the Dome, I confess I eschewed the red carpet, thinking I didn’t look quite my best having been up for more than 24 hours at this point. I’ve just started Tweeting (you can follow me @KeithMansfield) so had checked in on presenter @FearneCotton during the day. She’d suggested a choice of three outfits and people were sending their preferences. The power of the internet meant she picked blue. I bumped into her as I entered Indigo where the event was being held, but was a bit too jetlagged to twig and say hello. The next moment she was up on stage introducing 80s throwback synth singer La Roux.

Performances from JLS (X Factor runners up made good from a couple of years ago), Ellie Golding (winner of the most promising newcomer award) and Pixie Lott – the night could largely have been retitled “Here Come the Girls”. I’m sure everyone performed fine. Though I was struggling to stay awake by this stage, everyone was enthusiastically cheered on by the kids from the Brit School who were down at the front.

It’s the thirtieth anniversary of The Brits. For me the greatest ever was the night Sam Fox presented with Mick Fleetwood and it was total chaos, but the organizers prefer not to talk about that one. Sadly, a little self-indulgently, the award for “Best Live Act” has been dropped this year for “Best Performance at the Brits”. In an era when the industry is being devastated by illegal downloads, we’ve seen a great resurgence of live music and it seems short-sighted not to recognize this.

Even so, the Brits is the music award everyone wants to win (or even go to so it was great to have an invite). As if he doesn’t have enough on his mantelpiece, Robbie Williams is up for this year’s lifetime achievement gong. The main event is in Earl’s Court on 16th February.

By the time it had all finished, I didn’t know whether I was coming or going, got on the Tube in the wrong direction and spent about an hour stumbling around Canary Wharf  buying supplies I didn’t need before finding the way home, all ready for a 6.30am start for work the next day. I’ve survived the week relatively unscathed when it comes to jetlag, but confess to still feeling rather tired.

Posted in Architecture, Gig reviews, music
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Johnny Mackintosh: Star Blaze

•January 7, 2010 • 2 Comments

The adage from creative writing courses up and down the land is that “there’s no such thing as good writing – only good rewriting”. I must have gone through nearly fifty drafts writing Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London. trying to prove the saying true. It’s lucky I’m such a great re-reader because I can honestly say I never got tired of it. However, it was an incredibly liberating experience to embark on the next one. I’d go so far as to say it was even better than beginning a brand new Harry Potter book having waited a year since the previous one, and only those who know me will realize quite what that means.

So, as I wrote it, Johnny Mackintosh: Star Blaze became my new favourite book and I struggled to contain my excitement over some of the chapters. That said, it’s embarrassing now to look back on the first draft – we’ve probably reached something like version twenty-five or so now and each has been a major imporvement on what went before. I’m still excited to read it, but now can’t wait for the thrill of book three. For today Johnny Mackintosh: Star Blaze is published. You can read the cover copy and the opening page over at JohnnyMackintosh.com.

This is a time of great uncertainty, as an author never knows how a book will be received. My fervent hope is that you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Posted in Harry Potter, Johnny Mackintosh, Publishing Industry, Star Blaze
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