The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]


Rubble With A Cause …

Recently I came across this photo of the old Wembley being demolished …

And while I know the new stadium is better – albeit with terrible wifi/phone signal access, which is ironic given it’s sponsored by O2 – there was something about that photo that made me sad.

Of course it’s because I’m a sentimental fart.

Because despite seeing my beloved Nottingham Forest gain promotion in the new stadium, that old one has even more significant memories for me.

Live Aid.
Seeing Queen there.
And the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert.
Not to mention Bruce Springsteen, Madonna and countless other bands and singers.
Then there’s watching Brian Clough lead Nottingham Forest out for their various cup finals.

There was something magical about that old stadium when I was growing up.

It was the pinnacle. Where World Cups and Legends were celebrated and made.

And while there were other venues around the World that could lay claim to a similar standing … this was mine. In England. In our capital. A way to reinforce that for all the Madison Square Gardens and Giant Stadiums out there, we had ours. We still mattered. A bit.

Now I should point out I’m not saying this from a xenophobic ‘ENG-GER-LAND’ perspective … I mean it more in the same way I viewed Raleigh Bikes in Nottingham.

And while we replaced Wembley with a new and improved version – which is far more than Raleigh managed to do – there’s something about that photo that still hurts.

Not because I don’t love change – because even though I’m a sentimental, old fart, I do – but maybe because the replacement feels a bit soulless. Designed to look the part without ever really demonstrating they understand what it takes to be the part. Efficiency over character. Optimisation over soul. Money over memory.

I get this is probably only felt by people of a certain age.

I get the times have changed and so Wembley is not as unique as it once was.

But what shapes our identity is often the weird, the inconvenient and the personal symbols of possibility … and somewhere along the line, we’ve been made to think these aren’t as important as efficiency and complicity. Of course the irony of this thinking is that this is the sort of shit that is keeping us down rather than lifting us up.

Or maybe that’s exactly what some people intend it to do.

Jesus, I’ve become a conspiracy theorist now. That’s all we need.

See you tomorrow. Unless the FBI pick me up before then.

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When Forest Were Great And Football Ads Were Poor …

Once upon a time, Nottingham Forest were magic.

So magic, they were Kings of Europe. Twice in a row.

So magic, they had a song about it.

So magic, Adidas used them as proof of their football credentials in ads …

That team was amazing.

I even remember those boots.

But I must admit I don’t remember Adidas being the ‘science of sport’ – even though that is the most German sport tagline ever written – all I remember is that at my school, Adidas stood for All Day I Dream About Sex”.

Even though I probably didn’t even know what sex was back then,.

And while I still find it hard to accept my beloved team wore the football gear of the enemy – though I did try to get NIKE to sponsor them, once even including it as a recommendation in a strategy deck which was met by howling laughter – I accept it is nice to see at least one international brand recognised their incredible achievements.

But for all that, Adidas – and Nottingham Forest – will never beat Nike for this.

Still the best World Cup spot. Ever.

Unlikely ever to be beaten.

And trust me, we tried. Hard.

Which maybe says more about what clients want these days than creative ambition.

Maybe,



World Cup Advertising Plane Crashes …

I thought it had been well documented that any ad agency commandeering a song to try and show how ‘fun’ they are was a recipe for disaster.

Well, it seems that lesson has only been partially learnt, because while this sonic shitshow is not being performed by – or on behalf – of an agency, an agency was behind its creation and the end result is the sort of disaster that is more likely to cause hooliganism than fandom.

Seriously Qatar Airways, what the fuck were you thinking?

I know airline advertising is notoriously bad [except my old Virgin Atlantic stuff, of course] and World Cup spots tend to not be too far behind [except NIKE, though for some reason they’ve decided not to do anything yet which is either going to be a masterstroke of surprise* or a New Coke moment] but this piece of awfulness reaches a low that even Donald Trump at his most ambitious would be hard pressed to pull off.

Cliched.

Contrived.

Vacuous.

Lazy.

Devoid of any idea, energy or – for that matter – strategy.

Ladies and gentlemen. Boys and girls.

Please welcome an ad that was made to ruin your Monday …

* Please be a masterstroke of surprise. You are always the ones who define the World Cup.

Talking of NIKE and World Cup ads, maybe someone should tell the agency behind Iceland Air’s World Cup spot, that while people say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, the reality is imitation is the laziest form of flattery.

Look, I know Write The Future was 8 years ago, but there’s this thing called the internet that means people can easily see and compare the work and while your production values are good – certainly compared to that Qatar disgrace – it’s still a blatant bloody ripoff that does you [and your agency] more harm than good.