Dear WSC
Surely the insouciant arrogance with which David Elleray slithers to cover up his mistakes cannot be unconnected with his day job? Who remembers a school teacher who ever admitted to getting something wrong? Of course, as a servant of the privileged classes, Elleray performs his role with a polished charm, his eyes glinting like a demented pterodactyl. But beyond this saurian resemblance, I can’t be the only person to notice that the penalty he gave against Sean Dyche, for obstruction outside the area, was a carbon copy of the dreadful decision he gave against Frank Sinclair when he came shoulder to shoulder outside the box with the dying swan of the Ukrainian ballet, Andrei Kanchelskis, in the 1994 Cup Final. It’s time this man was confined to the playing fields of Harrow.
Martin Humphrey, London SW4
Search: 'Altrincham'
Stories
As part of WSC's tenth anniversary, Richard Newson rummaged through the connections between football and music
As a Sounds writer in the ’80s I met lots of rock artists. Many of them, like me, had been born in the early or mid 1960s. Very often, after a long hard interview, we’d end up talking football. Again and again these musicians told me how, for them, the game became less important when punk arrived in 1976-77 and made pop exciting again.