“Why hello, Chief. You’re where? I’ll be there right away!” So goes the exact same conversation between Inspector Caldwell and David O. Sharpe at precisely 7:42 every morning. Ordinarily, the latter is stationed in some far flung part of the United States of Kingdom, perhaps the wonderful Weetabix sandwich factory in balmy Basingstoke. Or maybe…
“Oh, it was great fun heading down to Preston in the caravan each year – I loved the amusement arcades filled with barely functional Out Run cabinets missing their acceleration buttons. But most of all I enjoyed the never-ending beaches dotted with overzealous ice cream salesmen and geriatric donkey ride services. “But all of that…
Come on, you have to admit it’s hilarious. I’m still laughing four days later, and I’ll probably be chuckling about it in four years. Since it will be immortalised in [Insert ZZZ-list celebrity here]’s Xmas Crackers DVD compilation of crazy ‘cock’ ‘ups’, I can relive that moment in glorious slightly-above-standard-definition for as long as I…
On this day in 1883, the mighty Krakatoa volcano erupted, spewing a lethal jelly of hot earth juice and crispy moles across the uninhabited island of Krakatau. At first, it was truly a spectacle to behold. Thrilled inhabitants of neighbouring islands gathered to witness the breathtaking light show, grabbing their 3D glasses and extra large…
“League One is a slice of thrice-iced Victoria sponge. But that passing in your own six yard box stuff simply won’t fly in the cut-throat Championship,” growled Latics Fan A. “Don’t change a darn thing! Confidence in consistency can carry you through a league of any quality,” cried Latics Fan B. “We aren’t sure what…
Around this time every four years, the people of Wigan go sports crazy. Today I saw a bloke dive bomb into his back yard paddling pool and a kid toss a hammer through some poor guy’s fishing net. Yesterday someone lobbed a pool ball from their shoulder into the beer garden, before… well, I won’t…
In just one week’s time, it will be exactly 39 years since NASA launched their Voyager II space probe. Contained within this expensive collection of screws and mirrors is the infamous Golden Record, an analogue catalogue of mankind’s musical endeavour up to and including the space year 1977. Originally, the record was intended to include…
Summertime football is crap. Tuesday evening Soccerdome knockabouts, the Betfred Cup and forced friendlies with Salfordchester United are all roughly of the same (low) importance. Yes, even the Euros seemed a bit token, tapering off into an apathetic mish-mash of fluttering moths and semi-interested onlookers. Yet the tournament promised so much: the Italy-Germany shootout was…
(Well, Tuesday, seeing as this didn’t publish on time…) It’s a weird feeling, you know. To come face to face with the final game of the season and have naught but a McFastFood ‘luncheon’ and pride in the Wigan Athletic shorts to play for. When you know you’re to meet a gristly end involving severely…
Just when you thought Wigan Time was over… the Football League go and put the clocks back! When mere goal difference can be the deciding factor in a relegation love (hate?) triangle, three whole Championship points become larger than Owen Coyle’s shorts cleaning bill at the launderette. The news finally filtered through on Friday afternoon,…
Thumbing through my inbox this week, I was delighted to discover a ‘personal email from Gary Caldwell’… correspondence from Superman himself! Sadly I only got a brief glimpse before accidentally deleting it along with fake tax rebates and false promises from Ugandan princes, so I couldn’t tell you if it was indeed written by Gary,…
Well, wasn’t that a great gesture? The kindly powers that be have provided a very special plaque for those individuals braver than I, the ones that travelled precisely 217 miles to watch Latics los- I mean, er, to watch Wigan play on a work day. Back in Darkest Lancastria, many more collected at the DW…