The Time Travelling Sheep

Trypanophobia: an extreme fear of medical procedures involving injections or hypodermic needles.

I wouldn’t call myself trypanophobic, but I am not over enamoured of people sticking needles in me. I am happier with being jabbed for the purpose of inoculation or vaccination than I am for having blood drawn.

It isn’t so much needle going into the vein that is the problem - although having experienced ‘shy’ veins on more than one occasion and had phlebotomists in despair at finding one suitable to take a sample from, being repeatedly and unsuccessfully jabbed is not my idea of fun – rather it is the sensation (real or illusionary) of blood being drawn that I have the problem with.

The only time that I donated blood was when I was in my early twenties and must be the source of my problem. I can recall that the throbbing sensation in my arm was sufficiently discomforting to put me off repeating the procedure. I have a similar problem with having my blood pressure taken; the prospect of and actual feeling of the blood pumping in my veins makes me very uptight and I am sure that is why, whenever I have my blood pressure taken, it takes at least three attempts before the doctor or nurse is satisfied that I am not in need of immediate hospitalisation.

I went for a routine blood test yesterday, which passed off without any drama, and apart from the ‘shy’ vein incident, the only other time I have had any sort of problem with a needle going in was when I had a seasickness jab, the first time I went on a cruise. The injection –a large dose of anti-histamine – was administered in the buttock. If you ever have a similar injection, I recommend wriggling your toes while it is given as it is quite uncomfortable.

Tomorrow I am going for my first coronavirus vaccination, a little earlier than I expected. When the vaccination process began, the online calculator, which you can find at https://www.omnicalculator.com/health/vaccine-queue-uk, suggested that I would get my first dose at the beginning of April. With the pace of the programme, I thought that this would come forward to mid-March, but Val had a message from a friend who is the same age as us, and who works in a pharmacy. She had booked her vaccination, so we went to the NHS website on Friday, and booked our jabs at the ExCel Centre in Docklands.

The booking process was really simple and easy, and from what I have been told by other people, the actual vaccination process is pretty slick too. Side effects reported from people I know who have had the jab range from a brief soreness in the arm, to nasty flu-like symptoms lasting a couple of days. The phlebotomist I saw on Saturday told me that she was unwell for a day. That’s not something that I relish, but we’ll see.

At the time of writing, 19.9million people in the UK have been vaccinated, albeit that only 736,000 have had both doses. With immunity supposedly only conferred a few weeks after the second injection, there is still a long way to go, and it is not until May that Val and I get our second doses. Once we all have had our second doses, we should begin to return to a version of normality, but there will need to be adjustments.

Much talked about is the possible vaccine passport, which has its pros and cons, and raises questions. I think it more likely that a vaccine passport would be required for international travel than for domestic use. International travellers are used to having to have a certificate to prove having had a vaccination against yellow fever, for instance, while vaccinations against cholera, hepatitis, and diphtheria are advisable, if not compulsory for travel to certain countries.

Some destinations may only be accessible to British holidaymakers with proof of vaccination: the Greek Prime Minister has said as much, for one. Entering Covid vaccination details may become as commonplace when booking a flight, or a hotel abroad, as entering a passport number is at present, and I find it difficult to see any reason why anyone would have an issue with that. Some people would object, no doubt, perhaps on the grounds that the vaccine is not mandatory in the UK, but then again, overseas travel and foreign holidays are not a right, and if another sovereign country wants to make a vaccination certificate a condition of entry, then that is their prerogative.

More contentious, however, would be a vaccination certificate for domestic use. Some people object strongly; Ian Brown of the band, The Stone Roses, is one.

Vaccines minister Nadhim Zahawi has said that the government was looking at the technology necessary to create vaccine passports, but he has also insisted that it isn’t the government’s plan to introduce them. He has said that one reason for not implementing them would be that the vaccine itself is not mandatory; he also said that passports would be discriminatory and wasn’t clear what impact they would have on the transmission of the virus. All very confusing, but understandably so, it’s not a straightforward issue.

The question of technology should be straight forward to address. For smartphone users, a digital certificate could be a simple extension of the existing NHS app, or the Covid app, the cost of which is expected to reach £35million: adding extra functionality to hold a digital certificate should be relatively inexpensive. For those without a smartphone, a physical alternative ought not to be beyond the wit of man.

Of more concern would be how vaccine certificates would be used. Critics say that their introduction would be an infringement of civil liberties, and it is easy to see that certificates could lead to a sort of health-based apartheid. Imagine not being able to go to a restaurant, or the cinema, the pub or a football match, simply for the want of a vaccine certificate?

Back in the day, underage drinkers would borrow an older sibling’s ID to get into a pub and, and fake ID is undoubtedly still used today, so there’s every reason to suppose that fake or forged certificates would be created. Equally, sympathetic door staff might admit uncertified customers to venues, either for a financial consideration or simply because they were known to them.

Covid has inspired any number of conspiracy theories, too many to list here, but the supposed nanotechnology in the vaccine is a major one. This tweet, claiming that the vaccine will facilitate time travel is simply mind-boggling however, and it is not a spoof. (Time travel? Why? would be my first question).

In less than twenty-four hours I will have my first vaccination. When I’ve had my second, I’d be happy to have, and produce when needed, some sort of certificate. Ian Brown and Dr Naomi Wolf would probably see me as a sheep, but who knows, perhaps I’ll be a time-travelling sheep who is able to go to concerts and football matches. Maybe I can get a ticket for Live Aid, or the 1966 World Cup Final.

 

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Picture of Shaun The Sheep and Tardis by Runa on Threads magazine https://www.threadsmagazine.com/readerproject/2009/02/10/tardis-quilt

 

 

 

 

 

Roadmap Out of Lockdown: A Cause for Optimism At Last?

“Data, not dates,” said Boris Johnson, would be the key to England’s route out of the current lockdown. Predictably, the roadmap he then announced was a series of dates (to be honest, how could it be anything else?), with the 21^st June the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, the date at which everything should be back to normal. Or at least that is what most people seem to be assuming, especially on social media; it isn’t what the roadmap says.

In Step 1, schools re-open on 8^th March, regulations on meeting people outdoors are relaxed slightly, and care home residents can have one regular visitor.[1] From 29^th March, households can mix outdoors but not indoors, and some organised sport is allowed.

Step 2 includes opening gyms and libraries, non-essential retail and hairdressers, and allows household groups domestic overnight stays and self-catering holidays; Step 3 sees re-opening indoor entertainment, and indoor and outdoor events with spectators. In Step 4, life returns to pretty much how we remember it, pre-March 2020.

But, and here’s the major caveat, all the dates in the roadmap are subject to four tests being passed:

• The vaccine deployment programme continues successfully
• Evidence shows that vaccines are sufficiently effective in reducing hospitalisations and deaths in those vaccinated
• Infection rates do not show a surge in hospitalisations which would put unsustainable pressure on the NHS
• The assessment of the risks is not fundamentally changed by any new “variants of concern” of the virus

It seems that the tests being passed is largely being taken for granted but, while ‘no earlier than’ means definitively that Step 4 cannot be reached before 21^st June, it does not mean that cannot be later than then. The four conditions need to be met every step of the way, so Step 4 could be in June, or July, or August, or later, assuming the Government sticks to its own rules. You may remember Lockdown 1, when relaxing social distancing measures was contingent on the R number falling, but restrictions were eased on the basis of a timetable rather than data. That could happen again.

This diagram showed the supposed route out of Lockdown #1; it was largely ignored.

If the Government does follow its own rules this time, and if we, the public, play our part, and if the vaccination programme continues at the pace and efficiency with which it has started, then for the first time in several months there may be cause for optimism.  Maybe there is light at the end of the tunnel, but the end of that tunnel must be reached by reference to data, not blind adherence to dates.

Naturally, the light isn’t close enough for some, as this Daily Mail front page shows.

What are we waiting for? Another surge in infections and another lockdown, perhaps?

Of course, it’s easy to be gung-ho and demanding about these things when you don’t have to take any responsibility if it all goes horribly wrong. Meanwhile, petitions have been started to make 21^st June a Bank Holiday, not a wise move in my opinion, but unsurprising, as unsurprising as an uptick in infections a fortnight later if the last year is any guide.

Andrew Rosindell, MP for Romford, has said that the Prime Minister should "show flexibility and a willingness to move faster if the data allows it.” Others have said similar, but by the same token, they must be prepared for the Government to adapt to the data and move more slowly if necessary. Will they be patient if the data suggests that the dates cannot be met? I suspect not; the idea that these dates are set in stone seems to have taken root.

The wisdom of a mass return to schools on 8^th March is debatable. At the start of the year Boris Johnson, in support of pupils returning to their classrooms, claimed that schools were perfectly safe. Twenty-four hours later, after schools had re-opened for one day, he declared that they were ‘vectors of transmission,’ and closed them again. The science did not change in those twenty-four hours and I’m not aware of it changing significantly since, so why are schools now safe to re-open?  Vaccines, I suppose, and Vaccines Minister Nadhim Zahawi explained how vaccines made the case for an 8th March re-opening on breakfast TV on Monday, but ended up making an almost unimpeachable case for keeping schools closed till May.

As with all of the steps in the roadmap, time will tell, and wisely (not a word I am accustomed to use in relation to him), Boris Johnson has not ruled out further lockdowns – local or national – especially in order to tackle new variants of coronavirus. All things considered, this roadmap does appear more measured, more considered, and more realistic than some previous timetables and plans, so much so that I do wonder if someone curbed Johnson’s impulsive nature when it was being drawn up, or if he was sidelined entirely.

Looking at the roadmap from a personal perspective, the fact that sporting events with spectators cannot restart before 17^th May has led the Isthmian League to curtail the season, putting the kibosh on Romford FC playing any more league games, so it looks like it will be August before I see any more football.

Holiday lettings in self-contained accommodation can re-open from 12^th April, so, like many other people I’ll be hoping we can get away somewhere shortly after that date: All roads to the English coast will be jam-packed in April’s second week. International travel won’t return until 17^th May at the earliest, and although I suspect that Val would like to get away somewhere hot, I’ll happily wait till next year before dusting off my passport.

The thing that I have missed above all others in the last twelve months has been going to gigs. All being well, 17^th May will see indoor events such as gigs allowed with an audience of 1,000 or 50% of the venue’s capacity, and on 23^rd May I am due to see Sparks at The Roundhouse in Camden, and then Yes at The Royal Albert Hall the next day. I don’t suppose that either of these events are guaranteed to take place, and if they do, how the organisers will cater for reduced capacities. I expect to see emails at some point with information on that score.

Yes at The London Palladium, March 2018

I haven’t seen the inside of a pub since March 2020 (that’s the longest hiatus since I was a teenager), and even when they re-open in April it will be with outdoor service only, so the chances of me visiting one then are slim. Indoor drinking is scheduled to resume in June, which will be the earliest I’ll visit one I expect, since a visit to a pub is, for me, incomplete without actually being inside. If al fresco drinking is all that is on offer, I might as well stay in my own garden.

Any optimism I have about the coming months is tempered by caution. There’s many a slip twixt cup and lip, and even the most competent administration is a hostage to fortune in the face of a pandemic like this, but maybe, just maybe, they have it right this time.

The first landmark on Johnson’s roadmap is less than two weeks hence, when schools and colleges re-open. I just noticed, there’s no mention in the roadmap of when all MPs will return to the House of Commons, but I imagine it’s the same day as schools, don’t you?

 

 

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[1] Full details of the roadmap are on the Gov.uk website, https://www.gov.uk/government/news/prime-minister-sets-out-roadmap-to-cautiously-ease-lockdown-restrictions

The Big Match on Mars

Life on Mars was one of my favourite TV shows, and the episode in which Gene Hunt, Sam Tyler, and Annie Cartwright go undercover running a pub to find the killer of a Manchester United supporter just days before the big derby match against City is one of the best.

John Simms (left) and Philip Glenister as Sam Tyler and Gene Hunt in Life On Mars

The killer is caught at a pre-arranged skirmish between United and City fans, typical of the 1970s, when many top-flight football matches were marred by violence and hooliganism, inside grounds, on trains, and on High Streets, up and down the country.

The reality of the 1970s football experience, realistically evoked by Life on Mars, is equally present in another TV series, one which can be seen on the ITV Hub, namely The Big Match Revisited, re-runs of The Big Match, ITV’s football highlights show, which aired from 1968 to 1992.

To watch an episode of The Big Match Revisited is to step back to another era, one which today’s football fan would recognise, and would no doubt find sometimes quaint, sometimes edgy, sometimes amusing. Although presented by Elton Welsby from 1983 to 1992, it is Brian Moore who is most associated with the show, as presenter and, for London matches at least, commentator. The regional structure of ITV companies meant that to watch a game from Stamford Bridge or Highbury was to hear Moore’s dulcet tones; from Ipswich Town or Norwich City it was Gerry Harrison you would hear; Hugh Johns covered the Midlands, while Granada TV’s coverage of North West clubs such as Liverpool or Manchester United featured Gerald Sinstadt behind the mic.

The relationship between the commentators and the clubs was such that it always seemed to me that there was a degree of partisanship in their coverage, and in an era when the atmosphere in many football grounds was hostile towards the away supporter, this even seemed to be apparent in commentaries.

I remember some of the games shown on The Big Match Revisited from the original broadcasts, and watching them again now, it does not feel like half a century has passed, but they do show how much football, on and off the pitch, has changed in that time.

In The Big Match featuring Spurs v Newcastle United from December 1974, the first noticeable thing is the crowd. Small knots of young boys in scarves, middle-aged men wearing ties, and an attendance of just over 23,000 in a ground capable of holding nearly twice that. And on any given Saturday it was possible to turn up at virtually any First Division ground, pay cash at the turnstile and find a good spot on the terraces, because of course all-seater stadiums only became compulsory in the 1990s, and all-ticket games were rare.

On crowded terraces there was much pushing and shoving, jockeying for best position. It was not uncommon to move several yards in one direction or another during a game, standing occasionally on tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the action, and frequently stumbling forward into the back of someone. A goal would often result in a headlong, and involuntary, rush down the terrace, after which everyone would creep back to somewhere approximate to where they had started from; it ebbed and flowed like a badly organised tide.

The pitch at White Hart Lane for the game in question actually looked not bad, and while it might have become a little tedious to constantly compare pitches from the 1970s with today's, a later episode of The Big Match, from January 1975, showed West Ham United playing Queens Park Rangers on an Upton Park pitch that resembled the proverbial ploughed field.

In 1974’s goalmouths stood goalkeepers who wore gloves only on the wettest of days, and in the Spurs v Newcastle game, Tony Bell made his one and only appearance for The Magpies, calamitously throwing the ball into his own net for Tottenham’s opening goal, undoing all the good work he had done in saving Cyril Knowles’s initial shot.

Newcastle United goalkeeper Tony Bell fumbles Cyril Knowles's shot over the line

Shirts were unadorned by sponsors’ logos or players’ names, and commentators such as Brian Moore still said, for the benefit of TV viewers watching in black and white, that one team or another was wearing the darker shorts.

The quality of recording equipment and of the floodlights at many grounds made for interesting viewing once the sun had set. One edition of The Big Match features Newcastle United v Manchester City, and the second half from St James’s Park looks as though the ground is illuminated by candles, so poor is the picture.

As far as commentators go, I have always held Barry Davies in the highest esteem; Brian Moore I tolerated rather than enjoyed. In his first few outings behind the mic he had a tendency to confuse volume with clarity, but he gradually calmed down, although I found him often prone to error; some decisions by referees seemed to mystify him, and he would sometimes confidently announce that a corner had been given when it was clear to all that it was a goal kick. What The Big Match - noticeably, and refreshingly - lacks, is expert analysis dissecting every incident, and particularly refereeing decisions, at interminable length. 

1970's commentators would announce, very formally, that the match referee was, say Mr Albert Smith from Stowmarket, and thereafter he would remain, Mr Smith, or just ‘the referee.’ Now, referees are almost as much personalities as the players, but in the 1970s they were less celebrated, although the match programme might tell you that Mr Smith was a married man with two children, and a sales rep by profession.

The pace of the game, the tackles that today would inevitably result in a card of one colour or another but then were considered quite ordinary, goalkeepers picking up back-passes, and wildly different interpretations of the Laws of The Game compared with today – especially the offside law – are all indicators of how much football has changed in fifty years, sometimes for the better, sometimes not.

The threat of hooliganism and violence provided an almost constant undercurrent to 1970s football. During the Sheffield Wednesday v Manchester United game shown on The Big Match in 1974, with Wednesday going 3-1 up, Yorkshire Television commentator Keith Macklin mentions that “some of the Manchester United fans are thinking of taking action” to try to get the game abandoned; some invade the pitch, but fail to halt proceedings other than temporarily. Mounted police intervene, and the game ends with policeman lined up in front of the terraces to prevent more spectators encroaching onto the pitch. The game ends 4-4.

Manchester United fans on the pitch at Hillsborough in a vain attempt to get the game abandoned.

Even following non-League Romford FC as I did during the 1970s, there was the occasional unsavoury incident, and the ramshackle and sometimes dangerous grounds I watched football on then would not be allowed today. As a neutral, my occasional visits to Football League grounds were fortunately generally incident free, although it was often possible to detect a certain undertone of menace, between railway station and ground if nowhere else, although the febrile atmosphere inside some grounds could often intimidate. In that respect, a visit to The Den to see Millwall play Bristol Rovers is permanently etched in my mind.

The Den at Millwall

Was football better in the 1970s compared with today? Maybe, maybe not, but it was certainly different. Take in an episode of The Big Match Revisited and see what I mean.

 

 

More Than Somewhat

I like having a routine. In one of my first blogs, written just after I retired, I said how much I craved routine, and how having one was my comfort zone. Well, I certainly have a routine right now, and if I’m honest what I would actually like is a break from it. Heaven knows I am not one who embraces spontaneity, but how I crave doing something on the spur of the moment!

The days are blurring into one. Every morning we go for our regular three-and-a-half mile walk through the increasingly soggy country park. When we get home the muddy clothes go in the wash and I make myself breakfast (porridge with sunflower seeds and fruit or jam). Then I may do some housework, and once I week I go to Tesco to do a big shop. After lunch I read, and scroll through social media, then it’s time to make tea, wash up, watch TV, then go to bed. Some days (like today), I write.

Eastbrookend Country Park

It would be nice to be able to just get up one morning and take the car, or the train and go to the coast, or up to London (not today though, as it’s snowing), but that will have to wait. My escape from routine must be through the pages of a book, and in the last few months I have got back into reading after a couple of years in which I had started to lose the habit.

At present I have two books on the go, not something I usually do, but one of them is a book of short stories, so I dip into that as a contrast to the 700-page novel I am reading. That novel is The Vizard Mask, by Diana Norman. It was published in 1994 and has one of my favourite opening sentences; ‘Penitence Hurd and the Plague arrived in London on the same day.’

I read The Vizard Mask when the paperback came out in 1995, and have not thought of it for a quarter of a century, until it recently popped into my head for no reason. Remembering how much I had enjoyed it when I first read it, I searched for it on Amazon, quite prepared to find it not available, but there it was, with the Kindle edition priced at a very reasonable £2.90: other formats are a bit pricier.

Used copies of the hardback range from £38 to £139, while previously owned copies of the paperback are priced at £60, or an eye-watering £3,680 although that one is apparently ‘new.’ In purchasing my Kindle version, I naturally took great care to avoid accidentally clicking on the more expensive paperback copy.

The Kindle edition has a few glitches – ebooks seem to suffer them more than physical books in my experience – with some misplaced punctuation; commas and full-stops exchange places from time to time, but for a book that has been out of print for some time and subsequently digitised, that is probably to be expected.

The plague catches up with Penitence sooner rather than later, and there are plenty of parallels with the way in which the authorities deal with it and the way in which governments are handling coronavirus, although as yet no one has been boarded up in their own homes for forty days with a red cross daubed on their front doors, but give it time, eh?

My other reading matter was an absolute snip on the Kindle. The Damon Runyan Omnibus, comprising the trilogy of More than Somewhat, Furthermore, and Take it Easy, was just 99p. You may not know Runyan or his work, but chances are you’ll have heard of Guys and Dolls, the stage show and film that Runyan’s short stories inspired. By the by, Runyan was the first man to coin the term ‘Hooray Henry’, in his story Tight Shoes.

Damon Runyan

Runyan’s style is an eclectic mix of the highly formal and the informal, with some often bewildering slang thrown in. His tales – which recount the exploits of the gangsters, guys, and dolls of prohibition-era New York, especially round Broadway – are almost all phrased in the present tense, to wit:

Breach of Promise

One day a certain party by the name of Judge Goldfobber, who is a lawyer by trade, sends word to me that he wishes me to call on him at his office in lower Broadway, and while ordinarily I do not care for any part of lawyers, it happens that Judge Goldfobber is a friend of mine, so I go to see him. Of course Judge Goldfobber is not a judge, and never is a judge, and he is 100 to I in my line against ever being a judge, but he is called Judge because it pleases him, and everybody always wishes to please Judge Goldfobber, as he is one of the surest-footed lawyers in this town, and beats more tough beefs for different citizens than seems possible.

Now, if there is one thing about Runyan’s stories it is that they are peppered more than somewhat with colourful characters, but their exploits – even when not strictly legal – are always endearing and rarely, if ever, murderous even when they are loosing off slugs from their Roscoes someplace like Good Time Charley Bernstein's little speakeasy on West Forty-seventh Street. They are, however, a dish best served sparingly, as they comprise a very rich diet if one is inclined to partake of them more often than is good for one.

One book I won’t be reading again is the most recent Jack Reacher novel. A new Reacher novel is a highly anticipated annual event in the world of books, and Reacher’s 25^th outing, The Sentinel, was published in October 2020. Having read the preceding twenty-four books, naturally I read this one too, curious to see how Lee Child’s work would compare now that he has taken his brother Andrew on board as a collaborator.

So, how was it? Well, I’ve enjoyed all the previous Jack Reacher books, even number 24, Blue Moon, which my wife (who has also read them all apart from the latest) didn’t think was up to snuff, but The Sentinel, was Reacher-by-numbers. All the elements we’ve come to know and love in a Reacher novel were there, but it all seemed a bit half-hearted, as though the writer was going through the motions. Reacher 26, Better Off Dead, is due out in October 2021, and I expect that I will read it, but my hopes are not high.

One book that I sampled, but won’t be buying (a major bonus of the Kindle being the facility to download the opening chapter(s) of a book for free) is the highly acclaimed Ben Okri novel, The Famished Road, which won the Booker Prize in 1991. Val was recommended it on a writing course, and having read just the opening page, asked me my opinion. I got nearly to the end of the sample, which comprises the first thirteen (short) chapters before deciding enough was enough.

Ben Okri

The Famished Road runs to nearly six-hundred pages and is just the first book of a trilogy. It is written nicely enough, Okri’s style is easy on the eye, as it were, it flows well and is enjoyable enough for that, but the story – such as it is – does nothing for me, being merely a series of loosely connected incidents.  It is rather like someone recounting a series of their dreams, and we all know how interesting other people’s dreams can be. Maybe it pulled together over the remaining 1,300 pages of the trilogy, but I wasn’t sufficiently engaged to buy it to find out.

Season’s End – Where Now For Non-League Football?

English non-League football is in a parlous state, from the National League at Steps 1 and 2, down to more local leagues at Step 7. The National League has been able to play behind closed doors thanks to grants of £10million from the Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS) and the National Lottery, while Steps 3 to 7, which began their programmes in September with fans allowed in grounds subject to limits on numbers, have been suspended since the end of October.

The current National League Structure came into being in 2017, but is
due an update with the addition of an eighth division at Step 4

With the grants now ended and fans not returning for the foreseeable future, National League clubs are reluctant to accept the loans they are being offered to continue playing and are now in the process of voting on whether or not to curtail the season.

Steps 3 to 6 meanwhile, has seen no football since 31^st October aside from a handful of Northern Premier League games. When Step 3 and below started their seasons in September, crowds were limited to between 200 and 600, but secondary income sources such as food and drink sales were much reduced due to tightened restrictions, or were simply not allowed at all.

Bury Town v Romford on 31st October 2020 was the last game I saw.

Until now no government money has been available to clubs below the National League, but last week it was announced that clubs at Steps 3 to 6 could apply for grants ranging from £7,500 at Step 6, up to £27,000 at Step 3. Naturally, the grant money can only be used for specific purposes such as lease or mortgage payments, loan repayments, and utility costs, and not for capital expenses such as work on stadiums, or players wages. [1]

The big question for Steps 3 to 6 now is how to complete this season. The decision last March to null and void 2019-20 was not universally popular; a decision to null and void 2020-21 would be more reasonable as some clubs have played just five of their scheduled 42 league games, but other options are up for consideration.

Reversing the null and void decision, reinstating results from 2019-20 and combining them with the results from 2020-21 to compile league tables based on points per game (PPG) is one idea. This solution, which would feature promotion but no relegation, would allow The Football Association to implement its restructuring programme, which was supposed to have been in place at the start of 2020-21. The chances of The FA reversing last season’s null and void decision, especially after successfully fighting a legal challenge to it, are virtually non-existent in my opinion.

Project Non League is calling for decision to null and void the 2019-20 season to be reversed.

Another alternative to treating 2020-21 as null and void would be to carry forward the results and continue the season from August, or whenever it is possible to start. This would give the leagues a fighting chance of completing a whole programme of matches before the end of April 2022, but on the other hand, with some clubs having played just 10% of their 2020-21 fixtures, it could be argued that too little of this season has been played to make that worthwhile.

There are some people who still believe that there is a chance of completing 2020-21 in full before August. One such is the respected journalist, broadcaster, and supporter of non-League football, Tony Incenzo. In a recent tweet, he suggested the following:

• Wait until all main vulnerable groups have been vaccinated & lockdown is lifted in March
• Re-start the season & play through April/May/June/July
• Have the close season in August
• Start 2021/22 season in mid-September

A Twitter poll that he is running shows that 53% of those that responded support this idea.

I’ve no axe to grind with Tony Incenzo, and I cannot help but admire his optimism, but I cannot share it. The speed with which the National Health Service is vaccinating people suggests that the main vulnerable groups may receive at least their first jab by the end of March, but protection is not conferred until a number of weeks after the second vaccination. This alone makes lifting lockdown in March unlikely, especially since the Prime Minister has said that now is not the time to ‘take your foot off the throat of the beast’ by easing restrictions too quickly.

Even if football could restart at the beginning of April, Steps 3 to 6 clubs would not have trained for five months, much longer than even a normal close season, and would probably want two weeks to get back up to speed.

Assuming that the leagues could restart on the third Saturday in April, there would be sixteen weeks to complete the seasons before the end of July. This would require The FA to allow the game to continue through June, a month in which organised football is not normally allowed in England.

Even then, would completing the season be possible? In the Isthmian League Premier Division, Bishop’s Stortford have 36 games to play, and Bowers & Pitsea have 37; it may be doable, but is one game every three days reasonable for players who are holding down full-time jobs? And this assumes no postponements for either the weather or the inevitable covid outbreaks.

There are also play-offs to consider, which would either extend the season into August or, if completed in July, reduce the number of weeks in which to complete the regular season to fifteen (up to 36 games in just 105 days).

To start again in mid-September would allow just six weeks for clubs, especially those who had been promoted, to strengthen their squads. Clubs would also want to undertake pitch maintenance; both these activities are usually spread over double the length of time that Tony Incenzo’s proposal would allow.

All of this is entirely hypothetical. When and under what constraints non-League football returns is entirely at the mercy of the country’s response to coronavirus and to the restrictions that the government sees fit to lift.

I cannot see non-League football below the National League resuming before August, in which case the best solution is probably to pick up 2020-21 again from where we left off in October, assuming that coronavirus restrictions allow (which is not a given).

Whichever way 2020-21 is completed, there has to be a plan to deal with a possible (some would say likely) suspension of the season come next winter.  Last summer the leagues had scenarios to deal with a variety of start dates, but none had plans in place to handle the season being suspended.

It is difficult for The FA or the leagues to provide any certainty or assurances in these unprecedented times, but once a decision is made on the outcome of 2020-21, flexible and adaptable plans for the next twelve months need to be written, otherwise, there is a risk that come January 2022, football will be faced with the same issues it faces now.

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[1] Full details of the grant scheme – The Football Winter Survival Package – can be found here: https://footballfoundation.org.uk/grant/football-winter-survival-package