I think they've been drinking. Have lot been drinking ?
I have, I'll admit.
I think they've been drinking. Have lot been drinking ?
And smoking cannabis ?
Nope, I left my stash in Huddersfield.
It's cocaine tonight.
You're sick. SICK.Nope, I left my stash in Huddersfield.
It's cocaine tonight.
Wrong. We have a handful of people who are desperate to hate him whatever he does.
Club traditions need preservation order
âI can assure all supporters that we will not be changing our name. Our name is our identity and remains at our coreâ â Vincent Tan
âI will never change the colour, never change the logo, never remove Hull, never remove Tigers. These words were there for many yearsâ â Assem Allam
We can only begin to imagine the kind of philosophical ding-dong that lies in prospect in the boardroom at Cardiff City Stadium this afternoon. In the red corner, which really should be the blue corner, Vincent Tan, the Cardiff City owner, may try to explain why a clubâs name is central to their identity. In the amber-and-black corner, Assem Allam, the Hull City owner, may respond by saying that a clubâs colours, surely, are sacred.
In that respect, they would be right. It is just such a shame that they are both on the wrong side of the other argument. Tan ignored the protests of Cardiff supporters in changing the teamâs colours from blue to red. Allam is doing likewise in trying to force through his attempt to change Hull City into Hull Tigers, having threatened to relinquish his ownership of the club if the proposal is rejected by the FA Council in April.
Many will shrug their shoulders and say that these traditions â a clubâs name, the teamâs colours â are not worth fighting for. Indeed, there are plenty who will join Tan and Allam in saying that it is so typical of footballâs conservatism to stand in the way of progress. Progress, they will say, is forgetting about Cardiffâs traditional blue and embracing the colour red, which symbolises joy and good fortune in many Asian cultures. Progress, they say, is changing Hullâs name because, as Allam puts it: âCity is not relevant; Tigers is the symbol of power.â
Allam has not taken kindly to criticism of his âTigersâ venture or indeed of the way he has gone about it. Hullâs fans, while expressing gratitude for the way he has revived the clubâs fortunes since his takeover in 2010, have campaigned behind the slogan âCity Till We Dieâ. âThey can âCity Till They Dieâ as much as they like,â he said in November, having previously promised a period of consultation with the supporters. âNo one on earth is allowed to question how I do my business. No one on earth. Letâs kill this point.â
Letâs kill this point? No, Dr Allam, letâs not. Let us ask seriously whether an owner â even a local businessman such as Allam â who moved to Humberside from Egypt in his late twenties and who has made substantial investments in the area as well in the club â has the right to make this kind of change while disregarding both heritage and feelings. Let us ask whether any of these owners â or, as they should be seen, custodians of institutions that change hands with alarming regularity these days â have the right to impose a name change.
Anyone with enough money, and, on occasions, some without, can buy a football club. The gameâs authorities have seen to that, with their Owners and Directors Test, still nothing like a big enough improvement on the laughably named Fit and Proper Persons Test that allowed hugely important local institutions to fall into the chaotic, damaging ownership of hedge funds (Coventry City), poultry farmers (Blackburn Rovers), someone facing trial in connection with money-laundering allegations (Birmingham City) and so on.
Whether it is the FA, the Premier League, the Football League or even the Government, someone should be working on a type of preservation order to limit the damage that an owner can do. There have been some mostly welcome moves towards greater financial regulation â rather too late for Portsmouth and seemingly not enough to stop Blackburn and others drifting into dangerous waters â but the authorities have shown an appalling weakness in dealing with mayhem at Wimbledon (relocated to Milton Keynes and effectively taken over as a new franchise) and Coventry (relocated to Northampton, for the foreseeable future, because the aforementioned hedge fund is in dispute with Coventry City Council).
Changes to Cardiffâs kit and Hullâs name might seem trivial by comparison. âNot the end of civilisation as we know it,â as Richard Scudamore, the Premier League chief executive, put it recently. But this stuff is extremely important to the people who matter, ie, the fans. More than that, it is part of a wider battle to protect the heritage of football clubs, which feels more worth fighting for than ever in this age of homogenised, indistinguishable town centres and dreary retail parks.
Allamâs argument is that the Tigers name would give Hull, as a club, an identity that they lack at present. You do not have to be an arch-cynic, though, to suggest that his distaste for âCityâ stems from his Coventry-esque dispute with Hull City Council over the freehold to the KC Stadium. In other words, this is another feud that is escalating out of control and, as so often, heritage is considered collateral.
Now, though, Allam has finally come up with something else to support his campaign. On Thursday, the Hull Daily Mail reported that the club had lined up at least two sponsorship deals that are contingent on City being dropped in favour of Tigers next season. Not really a great surprise, since that very contingency strengthens the case that the club will submit to the FA.
Yesterday, the club spelt out that the leading contenders for sponsorship deals next season âhail from regions where tigers are both prominent and celebratedâ. The appeal to the Asian market is obvious, but if we are talking about a few million here or there, does that really justify a name change at a time when survival in the Premier League on its own is worth more than £50 million?
Hullâs statement yesterday made a point of mentioning an alternative proposal, whereby season-ticket prices are increased dramatically. They pinned it on, as they put it, âthe 1,600 âCity Till We Dieâ campaignersâ. It has taken more than six months, but the club have finally found a way to make that admirably dignified, sensible campaign look like it stands for a noisy minority who would happily force their fellow supporters to pay considerably more for their season tickets.
The latest revelations, combined with Allamâs threat to walk away if the name change is blocked, will have some supporters trembling. They may even have members of the FA Council â hardly a body known for its progressiveness or indeed its usefulness â thinking that they have to bow to Allamâs whims. You can almost hear them now: âWell, it is his club, I suppose. They do owe him . . . â
Is Stockholm syndrome really the model that English football wants to pursue where relations between owners and supporters are concerned, though? At Blackburn, it has already reached the stage where Venkyâs, having led the club into chaos, is now regarded as the lifeline that could keep the club out of administration. At Cardiff, similarly, there is now a financial dependency on Tan â as there is on Allam at Hull â that leads supporters to fear not only erratic management but also the dangers of protesting too vehemently against it.
Owning a majority stake in a club should not give anyone the right to trample over tradition. Even Venkyâs, the Glazer family and, to some extent, Mike Ashley recognise that. Or at least they appear to recognise it.
If the FA is to shrug its shoulders and allow a name change at Hull, what is to stop Ashley turning his club into Newcastle Sports Direct or to stop Blackburn being rebranded as Venkyâs FC? What, apart from their ownerâs apparent respect for tradition, is to stop Manchester City being renamed Etihad or asking them to wear red, like the Abu Dhabi flag?
Football is going through a period of dramatic change, where clubs can be rendered almost unrecognisable â occasionally for better, mostly for worse â by changes in ownership. Since buying Hull in December 2010 for the nominal sum of £1, Allam has invested huge amounts in the form of loans, which have greatly improved the clubâs finances and on-pitch fortunes, but it is a strange sense of entitlement to suggest that this gives him the right to change the name that Hull have had since 1904.
Perhaps Tan is the person to point this out to Allam. Perhaps Allam is the person to point out to Tan that a clubâs colours, after more than a century, should not be changed. The hope is that the FA will show a bit of leadership on this one, not only blocking the name change but also taking the opportunity to set out a framework to preserve the heritage and health of clubs, whether in the Premier League or the Football League. That is what a proper governing body would do, isnât it? We can all dream, canât we?

Ironic how many of these articles talk of forced, unpopular name changes and describe us as being some none existant place "Humberside".![]()
Do we need to have this discussion again?
Seemingly only for a few remaining journalists.
http://metro.co.uk/2014/02/23/the-t...rs-who-shone-in-victory-over-cardiff-4314515/
A much better article about The Tigers.
Chazz's summary of the other whiney blog is spot on. If Cardiff were where we are atm, I highly doubt we'd be seeing that sort of self pity.