A year in tweets

The best spoof accounts on Twitter share their thoughts on the events of 2010.

Some of the tweets quoted below contain strong language.

January

7 January @DrSamuelJohnson Flop-hair'd Foulmouth Mister Jonathan ROSS has fled the BBC, afear'd of a publick Hanging from the Tory MOB.

20 January @reelmolesworth amey WINEHOUSE giulty of asault at pantomime O NO SHE ISENT cri defence counsel – pehaps not the best legal strateggy hem hem

February

7 February @MTuckerNo10 For fuck's sake. Dinner with Miliband tonight. Can't remember which one. Does it matter?

March

27 March @thefuckingpope Chocolate eucharist has arrived! It's delicious!

April

28 April @TheDearLeader So Hugo Chavez is on Twitter. Big deal. Tell him to call me when he commands a million-man army. (Seriously, Hugo: Call me. I've got plans.)

May

8 May Queen_UK #ge2010 awful dream. Woke up convinced that one was heading for a con-lib government and visions of Cam-Clegg audiences. What? Real? Fuck!

15 May @theashcloud My head is saying earn their trust back . . . but my heart is saying disrupt the flights . . . what's a cloud to do?

June

1 June @BPGlobalPR The oil leak was caused by a natural gas explosion, or sea fart, which is now having silent but deadly consequences. #bpseafart

11 June @FacebookPR Facebook Fun Fact: Every 9 seconds, we end a marriage. #didyouknow

18 June @DrSamuelJohnson The colonial Congress endeavours to block the Oil-Well by heaving Brick-Bats at hapless Fuel-Drudge Mister Tony HAYWARD

July

11 July @the_vuvuzela Goal kick. BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. Slide tackle. BZZZZ BZZZZZZZZZ. Routine pass. BZZZZZ BZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

15 July @BPGlobalPR Well, that wasn't so hard.

August

5 August @FEMINISTHULK HULK NEED EVEN BIGGER CAPS TO EXPRESS HULK JOY AT PROP 8 DECISION!

September

14 September @DrSamuelJohnson Bedlamite Harlequin Lady GAGA goes about clad in raw Meat, doubtless to delight her derang'd carnivorous Molly Disciples.

28 September @Queen_UK Text from David Miliband: "Your Majesty, should I stay or should I go now? If I go there will be trouble. If I stay it will be double"

October

1 October @FacebookPR Don't believe everything you see in "The Social Network", it's only like 99% true

6 October @chilean_miner I don't care if it is one of my five a day. I'm not having another one of Ernesto's moss smoothies

November

29 November @lord_voldemort7 Wikileaks has made me glad that my preferred method of secret communication is a mark burnt into my co-communicator's flesh.

30 November @Julian_Ass On the bus, old man in front of me was playing "got yer nose" with his grandson. "IT'S HIS THUMB!" I screamed. The truth must be told.

December

11 December @CherylKerl Dorty woak backstage. Matt's telt One Direction Santa's nut real. Thor distraught man. Snot an teeaz evereewhor pet

14 December @BigSocietyNews Source bone marrow yourself for your upcoming transplant and get £1.00 off the price of a hospital phone card.

20 December @FakeAPStylebook "Now I Have a Machine Gun: Ho Ho Ho" is not an acceptable headline for the drunken mall Santa rampage story

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The decline of the north's sporting powerhouse

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Now, things are different.

On a drive between Sheffield and Barnsley, I spotted a striking painting of the Kes poster. Billy Casper’s two-fingered salute covered the wall of a once-popular pub that is now boarded up.

It is almost 50 years since the late Barry Hines wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, the novel that inspired Ken Loach’s 1969 film, and it seems that the defiant, us-against-the-world, stick-it-to-the-man Yorkshireness he commemorated still resonates here. Almost two-thirds of the people of south Yorkshire voted to leave the EU, flicking two fingers up at what they saw as a London-based establishment, detached from life beyond the capital.

But whatever happened to Billy the unlikely lad, and the myriad other northern characters who were once the stars of stage and screen? Like the pitheads that dominated Casper’s tightly knit neighbourhood, they have disappeared from the landscape. The rot set in during the 1980s, when industries were destroyed and communities collapsed, a point eloquently made in Melvyn Bragg’s excellent radio series The Matter of the North.

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Yet today, we rarely get to hear the voices of Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham. And the Yorkshire sporting powerhouse is no more – at least, not as we once knew it.

This should be a matter of national concern. The White Rose county is, after all, the home of the world’s oldest registered football club – Sheffield FC, formed in 1857 – and the first English team to win three successive League titles, Huddersfield Town, in the mid-1920s. Hull City are now Yorkshire’s lone representative in the Premier League.

Howard Wilkinson, the manager of Leeds United when they were crowned champions in 1992, the season before the Premier League was founded, lamented the passing of a less money-obsessed era. “My dad worked at Orgreave,” he said, “the scene of Mrs Thatcher’s greatest hour, bless her. You paid for putting an axe through what is a very strong culture of community and joint responsibility.”

The best-known scene in Loach’s film shows a football match in which Mr Sugden, the PE teacher, played by Brian Glover, comically assumes the role of Bobby Charlton. It was played out on the muddy school fields of Barnsley’s run-down Athersley estate. On a visit to his alma mater a few years ago, David Bradley, who played the scrawny 15-year-old Billy, showed me the goalposts that he had swung from as a reluctant goalkeeper. “You can still see the dint in the crossbar,” he said. When I spoke to him recently, Bradley enthused about his lifelong support for Barnsley FC. “But I’ve not been to the ground over the last season and a half,” he said. “I can’t afford it.”

Bradley is not alone. Many long-standing fans have been priced out. Barnsley is only a Championship side, but for their home encounter with Newcastle last October, their fans had to pay £30 for a ticket.

The English game is rooted in the northern, working-class communities that have borne the brunt of austerity over the past six years. The top leagues – like the EU – are perceived to be out of touch and skewed in favour of the moneyed elites.

Bradley, an ardent Remainer, despaired after the Brexit vote. “They did not know what they were doing. But I can understand why. There’s still a lot of neglect, a lot of deprivation in parts of Barnsley. They feel left behind because they have been left behind.”

It is true that there has been a feel-good factor in Yorkshire following the Rio Olympics; if the county were a country, it would have finished 17th in the international medals table. Yet while millions have been invested in “podium-level athletes”, in the team games that are most relevant to the lives of most Yorkshire folk – football, cricket and rugby league – there is a clear division between sport’s elites and its grass roots. While lucrative TV deals have enriched ruling bodies and top clubs, there has been a large decrease in the number of adults playing any sport in the four years since London staged the Games.

According to figures from Sport England, there are now 67,000 fewer people in Yorkshire involved in sport than there were in 2012. In Doncaster, to take a typical post-industrial White Rose town, there has been a 13 per cent drop in participation – compared with a 0.4 per cent decline nationally.

Attendances at rugby league, the region’s “national sport”, are falling. But cricket, in theory, is thriving, with Yorkshire winning the County Championship in 2014 and 2015. Yet Joe Root, the batsman and poster boy for this renaissance, plays far more games for his country than for his county and was rested from Yorkshire’s 2016 title decider against Middlesex.

“Root’s almost not a Yorkshire player nowadays,” said Stuart Rayner, whose book The War of the White Roses chronicles the club’s fortunes between 1968 and 1986. As a fan back then, I frequently watched Geoffrey Boycott and other local stars at Headingley. My favourite was the England bowler Chris Old, a gritty, defiant, unsung anti-hero in the Billy Casper mould.

When Old made his debut, 13 of the 17-strong Yorkshire squad were registered as working-class professionals. Half a century later, three of the five Yorkshiremen selec­ted for the last Ashes series – Root, Jonny Bairstow and Gary Ballance – were privately educated. “The game of cricket now is played in public schools,” Old told me. “Top players are getting huge amounts of money, but the grass-roots game doesn’t seem to have benefited in any way.”

“In ten years’ time you won’t get a Joe Root,” Rayner said. “If you haven’t seen these top Yorkshire cricketers playing in your backyard and you haven’t got Sky, it will be difficult to get the whole cricket bug. So where is the next generation of Roots going to come from?” Or the next generation of Jessica Ennis-Hills? Three years ago, the Sheffield stadium where she trained and first discovered athletics was closed after cuts to local services.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era