Footballers. What do they make you think of? Wags, armadas of Bentleys and Range Rovers, Cheshire palaces of questionable taste, trophy cabinets, adult playrooms, all that? Yes, but that’s only a small part of the story – the few who make it big time in the Premiership. For every one of them there are thousands who don’t have any of that. Both types are on display in Class of 92: Out of Their League (BBC1).
Five former stars – Gary and Phil Neville, Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes and Nicky Butt – of a famous club have bought another less famous one nearby. (David Beckham presumably wasn’t allowed by ’er in the trousers to get involved, as it would have meant going to Salford and getting muddy.) Salford City, of the Premier League Division North, is the club in question.
It might be just down the road, but Moor Lane is a world away from the Theatre of Dreams. Crumbly, drippy (it really does always rain in Salford), overflowing, the only flash cars in the carpark are the owners’, when they’re there. “Welcome to non-league football,” says striker Gareth Seddon in the changing room after a game. “Fifteen players lining up for three cold showers. And then nine of us sharing one towel. We’re all going to walk out of here with chlamydia.” The STD, not an exotic wag.
Gareth dropped down a few divisions to work under the Class of 92. “I got sold the dream,” he says. The dream of playing for Salford City. Tattooed, handsome, Gareth is one of Salford’s best-paid players on £400 a week; he also works as a model. Hey, who needs Golden Balls?
It’s not all dreaminess at Salford City though. Phil Neville is cross when coach David “Chaddy” Chadwick is late to training with the balls. “Some of us have proper jobs, we don’t play golf all day, know what I mean?” mutters Chaddy, getting into his hire van after the session. Manager Phil Power travels in the back of the van, with the balls. I worry for Power’s future at the club – rightly, it turns out. That can’t be great, getting fired on TV, it’s not like he signed up for The Apprentice.
To be fair to the new owners, they’re not playing golf all day, they’re all dead busy, with their management and media commitments, punditry and school runs. Gary N is clearly the brains of the operation, articulate and ambitious; brother Phil is punctual; Scholesy says very little, but can get away with it on account of being Paul Scholes; Nicky Butt says nothing at all. And Giggsy is a lovely man, I’m sure but he’s never going to be a great manager is he? Just a bit wet.
It’s not just about the Class of 92, though. It’s about Gareth, Chaddy, Phil P the manager (while he lasts), Karen the chairwoman and Babs on burgers. Also the fans, some of whom also aren’t happy about what’s going on, especially when a billionaire from Singapore comes in and buys half the club. “I think it’s just going to lose touch with the ordinary people, like every football ground,” says Jim, who also does maintenance and runs the turnstile. Salford City has helped Jim cope with his alcoholism.
It’s a thorough, thoughtful – sometimes funny, sometimes moving – look at a football club at a turning point in its life, and everyone involved, their reasons for being involved and their different stories. The most poignant of these belongs to another player: Jason Jarrett, also at a turning point. Jason’s done the Premiership, earned nearly £9,000 a week at Wigan, had the flash cars. Now at Salford on £300 – not even on the pitch but on the bench. And he’s not finding it easy.
Detectorists (BBC4) – Mackenzie Crook’s comedy starring himself and Toby Jones as metal-detecting enthusiasts – is back with some uncharacteristic high drama. A vicious medieval storm, lightning, a rearing horse, something shiny getting buried … There is treasure in those fields, if only Andy and Lance could find it. Then it settles into its gentle furrow.
“Gentle” doesn’t mean “not funny”.It’s so beautifully and understatedly performed, and observed, and true. (Yes, the University Challenge contestant who, on getting a starter for 10 right, takes a sip of water and frowns, like it was no big deal, is indeed a nob). Not a life-changing find maybe, but a comedy trinket that deserves to be discovered Beep beep beep beep beep …
View all comments >
comments
Sign in or create your Guardian account to join the discussion.
This discussion is closed for comments.
We’re doing some maintenance right now. You can still read comments, but please come back later to add your own.
Commenting has been disabled for this account (why?)