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Twitter - bridging the gap between footballers and supporters

When asked by a journalist for his thoughts on footballers using Twitter, Wolves boss Mick McCarthy responded by saying it would be more apt if the letter ‘i’ was replaced with an ‘a’. But regardless of his comical and archaic retort, the social networking site has undoubtedly become an increasingly useful information tool within the game.

It makes the world a smaller place, and at a time when players, certainly at the highest level, have never been so far removed from supporters, any resource that helps bridge the gap should be encouraged.

Crucially, it allows fans and players to interact directly. England captain and Manchester United defender Rio Ferdinand is the most obvious example, offering his near 500,000 followers daily insights into the life of a professional footballer. It works both ways too, as he is also able to set the record straight on any story involving himself that is inaccurate.

Alternatively, his general observations, whether discussing uncomfortable train journeys or the latest events in Albert Square, are humorous and serve as a reminder that some of our idols can be just like us, despite the multi-million pound salaries, luxury motors and tabloid tales.

Elsewhere, England forwards Kevin Davies and Darren Bent are well worth following, as is the imitable Robbie Savage. Likewise, the nomadic Rohan Ricketts, currently a free agent, offers candid thoughts on life at the other end of the football spectrum.

But it is not all good news. The problem with a site so accessible is that any regrettable, spur of the moment thought is only a click away from becoming public record. Just ask Ryan Babel, Glen Johnson or Marvin Morgan, players who via Twitter, questioned the integrity of a referee with a doctored photograph, mocked a former pro's past alcohol and gambling addiction and wished death upon his own supporters respectively.

Babel faces an FA charge for his juvenilia, and rightly so, while Morgan has been farmed out on loan. Consequently, it appears increasingly likely that clubs will now use legalities to prevent any further issues, such as Twitter clauses being inserted into contracts, stating what a player can and can’t say.

Implementing provisions to avoid repeats of these incidents is understandable, but it shouldn't be that complex. Contrary to popular belief, plenty of footballers are both bright and self-aware. It would be wrong if the ones resorting to stereotype spoiled it for everybody else.

Players need only adhere to one rule: if in doubt, don’t tweet.

Staff terror as armed robbers use stun gun in raid on city pub

My exclusive front page splash for the Nottingham Post. The story was found and written by me while on a week's work experience at the newspaper earlier this month.

'A BAR worker has told of his terror after a stun gun was pressed to his head during an armed robbery which scooped over £3,000 at a city pub...'

And the corresponding inside story.

'STAFF at the Old Spot public house, in Mansfield Road, Daybrook, were preparing to lock up for the night after a quiet Wednesday evening...'

Professor Green: 'It’s taken me so long to get here'

My Q and A with Professor Green, conducted moments before he took the stage at the Tramlines music festival in Sheffield, on MistaJam.com.

Despite his busy schedule, Pro was more than happy chat about his new album, those comparisons with Eminem and staying humble:

'I’m a lot more appreciative of it. It’s taken me so long to get here that now it’s happened, I can appreciate it. It never happened overnight; it’s been a long, hard grind. I know how easy it can slip away so I’m just working hard to keep it...'

Professor Green: Alive Till I'm Dead

My review of Professor Green's debut album, Alive Till I'm Dead, for Mistajam.com:

'Finding a happy medium between the two is never easy, but with the release of his long awaited debut album, Alive Till I’m Dead, Professor Green succeeds where many of his compatriots have previously failed, delivering a well crafted album that should not only appease original followers, but garner some new ones too...'

Richard Towers: Heavyweight boxing's best kept secret

My feature on Sheffield boxer Richard Towers, who according to Ricky Hatton, is the best kept secret in the heavyweight division. The 31-year-old only turned professional in 2009, having served six and a half years in prison for false imprisonment and kidnap.

He's trained by Brendan Ingle, who has trained and mentored champion boxers including Herol 'Bomber' Graham, Prince Naseem Hamed and Junior Witter.

'Warm, honest and articulate. Not three words you would associate with a six foot eight, 17 stone man who boxes professionally. Consider the same man is also a convict, having been sentenced to 13 years for false imprisonment and kidnap, and such a description seems all the more unlikely...'

Tales from SW19: Second Serve

Upon entering the grounds, we were greeted by a very upbeat woman at the ticket booth who, as we each handed over our £65, told us: ‘You’re in luck! I’ve got two great seats and they’re only five rows from the court.’

The prospect of sitting only metres away from some of the greatest tennis players in the world meant our first reaction was one of joy. However, after soon realising the seats were completely exposed to the blistering 28 degree sunshine, this was quickly followed by a one of slight despair.

Safe in the knowledge that our seats were secure, we spent the morning reacquainting ourselves with the famous grounds. A much needed bite to eat soon followed, before heading to the outside courts to watch some of the Junior Championships’, which had started that day. We then made our way to our Centre Court seats, partly because of wanting to cherish the atmosphere, and also because we were feeling a little flushed under the midday sun.

It's Wimbledon tradition that on the first Saturday of the competition, men and women from the world of sport are invited to watch the action from the Royal Box. The BBC began their broadcast with Sue Barker introducing these sporting icons, which included Brian Lara, Sachin Tendulkar, Sir Chris Hoy, Jason Leonard and my personal favourite, Sir Bobby Charlton. Glenn Hoddle was also present.

Additionally, there were 14 members of the Armed Forces in the Royal Box, as a reward for their outstanding achievements in their respective field of duty. The crowd showed tremendous appreciation with a well deserved, lengthy standing ovation.

I found the emotive applause to be a little overwhelming, but fortunately, my man points remained intact due to my wearing of sunglasses, so the BBC cameras were none the wiser.

Following the ovation, the tennis finally got underway. First up was Serena Williams, who faced the Slovakian Dominika Cibulkova. The match was extremely one sided, with Serena taking the opening set 6-0 in just 18 minutes. Overawed at the beginning, Cibulkova improved greatly in the second, but still lost out 7-5.

Considering her vastly improved second set performance, where her nerves ceased and she became competitive, it made me wonder why the ladies don’t play best of five sets like the men. Not only do they earn the same prize money for a lot less playing time, but I actually think it’s discriminatory to think they can only play best of three, simply because of their gender. They’re all in great shape, so I don't see the problem, and the quality of matches would most certainly improve too.

And without dwelling on the matter, the argument of equal prize money would also be put to bed, finally.

Meanwhile, the warm weather meant it was difficult for us to concentrate on the action and truthfully, I could barely see. Not because I was feeling faint, but because freshly applied sun cream, coupled with a sweaty forehead is a recipe for stinging eyes. Thankfully though, this cleared up just in time for the men’s matches.

Second on Centre was the charismatic Rafael Nadal. Despite being made to work for his victory, he defeated his resolute German opponent Philipp Petzschner, eventually coming through in five sets.

It was both a privilege and a pleasure to watch a player, who at 24, is already one of the greatest players of all time. At times, he struggled against his German opponent, but in his typical robust manner, he fought for every point and refused to give in. It's these characteristics, along with him being so humble and gracious, that make him so popular with the fans at the All England Club, and everybody was enthralled by his battling display.

Everyone apart from a girl setting next to us, that is, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but Centre Court. Her body language was poor and crazily, she didn’t even watch the action, instead choosing to read a magazine. I found this inexcusable, particularly considering we’d spent over a day queuing for our seats. Some people don't realise how lucky they are.

I was also a little annoyed with two whiny teens sitting in front of us, who were more preoccupied with their BlackBerrys and begging their parents to buy them ice-cream than watching the tennis. Having gone so far out of our way to get great seats, it was frustrating to see spoilt children so unappreciative of their excellent view, no more so when one of them asked their father: ‘Daddy, what’s a tiebreak again?’

The final match on court was the one we’d been waiting for, Andy Murray. Honestly, I’m not particularly patriotic, but when supporting him, I am. Nothing gives me more pleasure than seeing him do well, admiring not only his steely determination and grit, but his smart tennis IQ also.

For the neutral, his match against the Frenchman Gilles Simon was certainly no classic, with Murray comfortably winning in straight sets. But honestly, that didn’t matter. He played superbly, displaying his usual range of intelligent strokes, and I’ll always have fond memories of seeing him play for the first time.

Being in front of his home support, naturally the atmosphere for the Murray match was terrific, with each winning shot evoking a more positive response than the last. I imagine he probably became sick of one bucket hat wearing fan, who incessantly squealed, ‘Come on, Andy!’ after every single point.

I tweeted him later that evening, apologising for my over-zealous behaviour.

Being so close to the court, A-Clay and I knew there was a possibility of getting ourselves on TV. This is a prospect that for some reason, makes humans behave strangely. Indeed, everyone’s seen the most disconsolate football fan become suddenly upbeat, simply because he's seen himself on the big stadium screen.

Rightly or wrongly, we became increasingly preoccupied with getting some camera time, and decided the best way of being spotted would be by celebrating wildly. Initially, we were respectful, and would only get out of our seats when appropriate; a Murray break of serve say, or perhaps a wonderful backhand down the line.

However, we soon got carried away. And by we, I mean me, who, with Murray already a break up and comfortable, responded to a weak Simon return into the net by leaping out of my seat, contorting my face and shaking my fists wildly. ‘That’ll be a slow motion replay on BBC HD,’ I confidently told A-Clay.

Needless to say, it wasn’t. In fact, when re-watching the match back at home, disappointingly we weren’t once on camera during the entire three hour broadcast.

But if not momentarily getting on television is your biggest regret, then you know you've had a decent day out or three. And so, after ten sets and eight hours of world-class tennis, Murray’s victory brought to an end our visit to The Championships’. I took one last look around Centre Court, in acknowledgement of the happy memories the place had given us for the second year running.

It had been a truly brilliant day, and certainly worth missing the last train home for.

Which I did.