It amazes me how some people have a rose tinted view on what really happened. Sisu tried to get the stadium on the cheap by leaving - putting pressure on the council and a charity- Higgs Trust to sell on the cheap to a hedge fund who NO OF US TRUSTED . Any council not just Coventrys have a responsibility to get the best deal for the Coventry public - because its OUR MONEY which helped towards the development of the stadium. If Sisu got thier way - and got the stadium on the cheap - WE ...the local council tax payer would of lost out . The council got thier money back because a business was prepared to pay the full amount - NOT at the expense of the local tax payer .Sisu had the carpet pulled from under thier feet . And rightly so .
I don't support Wasps or like them here - no more than anyone else . But the council - who are not by far perfect, were right to get the best financial deal for its citizens and not just for skyblues fans.
Doublespeak
I think we know who's side you're on
Matthew Syed's take on people like you and those you're defending sums it up really
I don't much like any political party btw but this is the one that helped screw CCFC
My tortuous bid to be a Labour MP makes me view the Tories with envy
The double-think and jargon required to get on in Labour shows how far they have to go on diversity
Matthew Syed
Sunday July 17 2022, 12.01am, The Sunday Times
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When I look back on my attempt to become a Labour parliamentary candidate, I shudder. I had long taken an interest in politics, read political memoirs and, in my thirties, attended a public-speaking club called Toastmasters. I wanted to improve the debating skills that had not been part of my state school education.
Perhaps I was a little naive. I assumed the party would want motivated people with the potential to make a contribution to constituency and country. In fact I found myself in a labyrinth of vested interests, affiliates and shadowy networks. After a year of getting ever more lost in this thicket of confusion, I realised that the Labour Party was set up to select the wrong candidates in the wrong way for the wrong reasons.
I mention this because it has been widely noted that the
Tory party’s leadership election has had a diverse list of candidates, including Suella Braverman, Kemi Badenoch, Liz Truss, Nadhim Zahawi, Penny Mordaunt and Rishi Sunak. This is a party that may be teetering on the brink of nervous breakdown, but there is at least a nod to selecting leaders on merit. Isn’t that why Margaret Thatcher was chosen at a time when women were rarities in politics? This ruthless party saw that she had what it took to win and promoted her accordingly.
The Labour Party — well, let me tell you about my experience. After cutting my teeth in an unwinnable seat at the 1998 local election and then the 2001 general election, I decided to try for a winnable one in the build-up to the 2010 election. I wrote emails to the party and identified a number of constituencies with which I had a personal connection. I was invited to meet
Keith Vaz, a man who would become notorious for corruption and sex scandals but at that time was involved in candidate selection. “He has a passion for broadening the intake of the party,” I was informed.
We met three times in his office — I assumed so that he could assess my character and grasp of politics, but it was, in truth, an indoctrination into the surrealism of the party. He explained that I needed to join various unions that had “affiliated status” and could “nominate you on to mandatory shortlists”. I asked him to explain this and other jargon but it was difficult to keep track. “Make sure you meet the GMB and Unison,” he said, “and understand their policy positions.”
I met Mary Turner from the GMB and then officials from Unison and Unite. I gleaned that some unions had a “lock” on certain constituencies so I needed to secure alliances with local barons, too. I found it difficult to nod politely as they outlined policies that contradicted official party policy and from time to time couldn’t stop myself gently pointing this out. I am not sure it went down too well.
Vaz then told me that he was setting up a meeting with Nick Brown, then the chief whip. A few days later I was told the venue: the Whisky Mist nightclub in Mayfair. Eh? I drove into town wondering whether this was some kind of elaborate hoax but steeled myself as a muscle-bound doorman looked me up and down. “I’m here to meet the chief whip,” I said as casually as I could, only realising as the words escaped my lips the S&M connotations. To my amazement he replied: “He’s expecting you,” and led me inside. I chatted with Brown on a table near the bar, and after a few minutes he stood up. For a moment I wondered if he was going to ask me to dance.
Vaz, meanwhile, had got in touch to say we needed to meet again. “Do you own any properties other than the one you live in?” he asked sternly. “Yes,” I said, somewhat surprised. “I have money invested in both stocks and property.” His face darkened. “Don’t mention this, even if you have to lie,” he said. “It isn’t a good look.” I protested that I had worked hard to get ahead financially and wasn’t going to be ashamed of it. Shouldn’t the Labour Party celebrate aspiration, I asked. “For f***’s sake, just keep your mouth shut,” he said. I refused to comply.
By the time I was invited to an interview, I felt dizzy. The selection board included Tom Watson, Vaz, Angela Eagle and a few other MPs. I prepared assiduously, and answered questions on energy policy, education and more. As I spoke, I could see a few nodding heads, and by the end I felt I had performed as well as I could have. That night Watson phoned my mobile: “The panel thought you were the outstanding candidate, but the unions wanted someone else,” he said. Strange to say, I almost felt relieved. By now I wanted nothing less than to become a Labour MP.
I couldn’t help contrasting this surreal experience with my former life in table tennis. I love sport because you succeed on ability rather than creed or colour; on what you can bring to the table rather than connections or greased palms. I love the clarity this brings to the competition; the way it liberates you to reach the summit of your potential. Upwards and forever upwards. Meritocracy isn’t some optional extra or vanity project; it is the cornerstone of our greatest achievements.
Isn’t that how all institutions should work? Think of the benefits to society if, in professions such as law and finance, success were driven not by covert networks, discretionary internships and cosy nepotism but by potential. Imagine what it would do for social mobility, social justice and growth. Diversity emerges, at least in part, from this beautiful philosophy.
Isn’t that why football — a domain where preferment is based on transparency of talent in open competition — boasts top players from such a remarkable array of backgrounds, from the favelas of Brazil to the back streets of Toxteth?
And how tragic that the Labour Party, this institution that advertises itself as the bastion of progressive ideals, represents its antithesis. How tragic that recruitment is not about selecting on talent but a Potemkin exercise in power dynamics that would take a PhD in anthropology to understand. The parliamentary party may look diverse, but its recruits are homogenised via the sausage machine of recruitment and corrupted by having to pander to so many vested interests.
