Crystal Palace FC has made no plans to tackle global warming, Eagle Eye can exclusively reveal.
Despite the warnings of scientists, government ministers and environmental campaigners that climate change is set to devastate the planet, causing the sixth great extinction with the loss of more than 60% of all species including all varieties of seagull (hopefully), the Palace club shop last Saturday was still selling woolly hats.
Palace chairman Simon Jordan said that the club had asked Croydon Council about the possibilities of relocating to the north pole but had been told he would be ‘skating on thin ice’.
‘It looks very much like I’ve wasted my money putting in undersoil heating as the pitch is going to end up looking like the Kalahari,’ said Jordan, ‘on the other hand at least I’ll be able to top up my tan.’
Jordan dismissed fears that Palace had not done enough to prepare for an apocalyptic future. ‘Selhurst Park is a designated disaster area,’ he said, we do have a Green policy – we play him every now and then – but it’s proving ineffective.’
Scientists say that temperatures in the Selhurst Park region have risen steadily since Jordan bought the club. Sporadic furious eruptions have made the atmosphere unstable and last summer a great lump broke away and drifted north towards SE7 before melting away completely.
Palace, however, refuse to accept the science behind global warming. ‘I don’t expect to see any scorchers down here,’ said manager Peter Taylor, ‘the players aren’t allowed over the half way line.’
Selhurst Park has already seen Johnson’s Gazelle – a lightning paced predator – moved further north in search of more fertile feeding grounds while another species under threat is Mark Kennedy, a sloth-like creature thought to be millions of years old who is highly sensitive to the over use of energy. ‘Phew! It’s a bit warm isn’t it?’ he said, before fading away altogether. ‘I’m pooped.’
Showing posts with label Selhurst Park. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Selhurst Park. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Who owns Selhurst Park?
God, the wearying issue of Selhurst Park's ownership gets another airing in the Guardian today (click on the headline to read the story). Often if you're the subjecct of an article by David Conn there's cause for concern, although Simon Jordan insists we shouldn't be.
There's plenty of discussion on the BBS here:
http://forums.cpfc.org/showthread.php?s=&threadid=148227&perpage=20&highlight=&pagenumber=1
The 'CPFC and Selhurst Park reunited' stuff now seems a little disingenuous. SJ did rather miss out the bit about Palace paying £1m a year rent (more than we paid Uncle Ron's Altonwood) at his triumphal October press conference. Besides, they weren't very good t-shirts were they, so perhaps fans would be within their rights to return them to the club shop for a refund?
Long term, the suspicion is mounting that Palace may be on the move, the Selhurst allotments not too far from the site of the old pre-1924 ground 'the Nest' has been mooted.
There's plenty of discussion on the BBS here:
http://forums.cpfc.org/showthread.php?s=&threadid=148227&perpage=20&highlight=&pagenumber=1
The 'CPFC and Selhurst Park reunited' stuff now seems a little disingenuous. SJ did rather miss out the bit about Palace paying £1m a year rent (more than we paid Uncle Ron's Altonwood) at his triumphal October press conference. Besides, they weren't very good t-shirts were they, so perhaps fans would be within their rights to return them to the club shop for a refund?
Long term, the suspicion is mounting that Palace may be on the move, the Selhurst allotments not too far from the site of the old pre-1924 ground 'the Nest' has been mooted.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Small dreams of a Palace fan
Gorn and lost the f***ing Cup
We’re not even going up
We’re no good
In fact we’re bad
We are the Palace
We’re mad!
So much for the Football Association Challenge Cup then. Another sad exit this afternoon and, by all accounts, a second half performance as bad as any seen at Selhurst Park so far this season (and Gawd knows there have been a few).
Staying away from any Palace match can never be considered a good choice, but given the ticket prices and the seeming inevitability of the capitulation, the 50% of our core support who opted not to go for whatever reason probably made the right decision.
What makes it especially sad is that a group of fans, inspired by a chap called Away Day Eagle from the BBS, attempted to put some much needed life back into the competition with a finely executed tribute to Malcolm Allison. They even got themselves featured in the Sun with a classic picture harking back to the swashbuckling Palace cup run of 1976. In all, more than a hundred fans took the trouble to don fedoras, drag sheepskin coats out of wardrobes or pick them up from charity shops and, with champagne flowing in the pubs and inflatable cigars and bubbly bottles waving, they sought to lift the flagging spirits of the club.
I’m sure they had a brilliant time, but it’s a shame that the fun had to end so soon. Today could have been the start of something. Just think of it, we could have been drawn against someone like Spurs away in the next round. You could easily imagine the snowball effect as more and more fans picked up on it and a sea of south London charm swept over the soulless wasteland that is north London. Picture it now, after clinging on like grim death against arrogant Premiership opponents a rare sweeping Palace move ends with the only goal. Into the quarter finals then and, by now, the club have stepped up a gear. Given a reasonable draw against some beatable side or other, the fedora force enthuses players and fans. The self-belief and media frenzy carries us to a semi-final probably against someone like Bolton, Blackburn or another dour bunch of northern gits with no sense of humour. Palace start off as the usual shambles but somehow hang on, then late on there’s a scramble and out of nowhere a red and blue sock appears to poke home the winner. Bedlam! The whole place is an orgy of hats, kipper ties, Rubettes LP covers, platform shoes and inflatable champagne glasses. Big Mal, God bless him, smiles.
That’s what the FA Cup has needed pretty much since the last time we made it to Wembley. An end to soulless all-Premiership encounters, this would be a final to capture the hearts of the nation. With a 70s inspired Palace at Wembley, the entire David Bowie back catalogue would re-enter the charts, Man About the House would be given a prime time re-run on BBC One and the players get themselves fitted out in cup final suits resplendent with 36” bottom loon pants and oxblood Doctor Martens. Ford re-issues the Cortina MkIII as a special tribute edition… only available in white with a red and blue sash running diagonally across the bonnet.
All that could have been ours… but now the dream has been crushed by the ineptitude of a Palace team quite frankly not fit to lace the boots of its counterpart of 30 years ago. As one BBS poster grimly noted, Peter Taylor wouldn’t pick the 1976 version of himself to play in this current side. It’s enough to make you weep.
Now all we’re left with is the prospect of a season fizzling out before the last dregs of January and another feeble cup attempt to forget. Someone else on the BBS reckoned this was about the worst time to try something like a fedora revival because the team is incapable of raising itself beyond the distressingly ordinary. I reckon it was a noble attempt to lift a season that has been going nowhere pretty much since the first game of the season. It’s pretty hard at moments like these to say ‘we don’t care we’re Palace fans’.
Still the FA Cup still twinkles, so handshakes all round to Preston. This time next year, will be our year, eh?
We’re not even going up
We’re no good
In fact we’re bad
We are the Palace
We’re mad!
So much for the Football Association Challenge Cup then. Another sad exit this afternoon and, by all accounts, a second half performance as bad as any seen at Selhurst Park so far this season (and Gawd knows there have been a few).
Staying away from any Palace match can never be considered a good choice, but given the ticket prices and the seeming inevitability of the capitulation, the 50% of our core support who opted not to go for whatever reason probably made the right decision.
What makes it especially sad is that a group of fans, inspired by a chap called Away Day Eagle from the BBS, attempted to put some much needed life back into the competition with a finely executed tribute to Malcolm Allison. They even got themselves featured in the Sun with a classic picture harking back to the swashbuckling Palace cup run of 1976. In all, more than a hundred fans took the trouble to don fedoras, drag sheepskin coats out of wardrobes or pick them up from charity shops and, with champagne flowing in the pubs and inflatable cigars and bubbly bottles waving, they sought to lift the flagging spirits of the club.
I’m sure they had a brilliant time, but it’s a shame that the fun had to end so soon. Today could have been the start of something. Just think of it, we could have been drawn against someone like Spurs away in the next round. You could easily imagine the snowball effect as more and more fans picked up on it and a sea of south London charm swept over the soulless wasteland that is north London. Picture it now, after clinging on like grim death against arrogant Premiership opponents a rare sweeping Palace move ends with the only goal. Into the quarter finals then and, by now, the club have stepped up a gear. Given a reasonable draw against some beatable side or other, the fedora force enthuses players and fans. The self-belief and media frenzy carries us to a semi-final probably against someone like Bolton, Blackburn or another dour bunch of northern gits with no sense of humour. Palace start off as the usual shambles but somehow hang on, then late on there’s a scramble and out of nowhere a red and blue sock appears to poke home the winner. Bedlam! The whole place is an orgy of hats, kipper ties, Rubettes LP covers, platform shoes and inflatable champagne glasses. Big Mal, God bless him, smiles.
That’s what the FA Cup has needed pretty much since the last time we made it to Wembley. An end to soulless all-Premiership encounters, this would be a final to capture the hearts of the nation. With a 70s inspired Palace at Wembley, the entire David Bowie back catalogue would re-enter the charts, Man About the House would be given a prime time re-run on BBC One and the players get themselves fitted out in cup final suits resplendent with 36” bottom loon pants and oxblood Doctor Martens. Ford re-issues the Cortina MkIII as a special tribute edition… only available in white with a red and blue sash running diagonally across the bonnet.
All that could have been ours… but now the dream has been crushed by the ineptitude of a Palace team quite frankly not fit to lace the boots of its counterpart of 30 years ago. As one BBS poster grimly noted, Peter Taylor wouldn’t pick the 1976 version of himself to play in this current side. It’s enough to make you weep.
Now all we’re left with is the prospect of a season fizzling out before the last dregs of January and another feeble cup attempt to forget. Someone else on the BBS reckoned this was about the worst time to try something like a fedora revival because the team is incapable of raising itself beyond the distressingly ordinary. I reckon it was a noble attempt to lift a season that has been going nowhere pretty much since the first game of the season. It’s pretty hard at moments like these to say ‘we don’t care we’re Palace fans’.
Still the FA Cup still twinkles, so handshakes all round to Preston. This time next year, will be our year, eh?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
