3 (three) and Max Power

Having played an hour or more of 5-a-side in the howling wind and still sweltering sun, and then returned home to move furniture around for another hour and a half, I was only able to make it to just after half time in last night’s football matches before sleep overtook me (on a solid white line, too). The Newcastle game was enjoyable though, and so it was fortunate that it was the one I chose to watch. Meanwhile, over on the other side of the Pennines, my beloved Blades were taking a beating at Wigan Athletic. Unpretty.

But waking at some point in the early hours and checking the final score, I was delighted to see that we’d somehow salvaged a 3-3 draw, with a last 20 minute comeback of some note:

Great stuff, but then I can’t help but think that we’d have found ourselves in a somewhat better position if we were to have scored those 3 goals without allowing the opposition to score three of their own first. Yep, call it naive, but if I were a coach, I’d be concentrating on scoring more goals than the other team, working through two basic steps, namely:

1. Stop them scoring three goals, and
2. Score three goals.

It just might work.

But then, maybe we were not given the luxury of choice yesterday evening. Because beagle-eyed readers will have noted that Wigan were playing at with Max Power, who was booked in the 87th minute.

Max. Power.

I did some in depth research into Max Power, by typing his name into Google and opening the Wikipedia page entitled “Max Power (footballer)”. And under the “Personal Life” I found out some further details about his schooling and his mildly unusual nomenclature.

Power attended Wirral Grammar School for Boys

Yep. Born on the Wirral, attended the local boys’ school. Reasonable.

…and is named after his parents’ pet labrador

Yep. Named after his parents’ dog.

Wait. What?

I imagine Mr & Mrs Power sitting down together one evening and pondering the possible names that they could give their soon-to-be-born son. It’s a tough one, an important decision. They’ve already rejected several (or more) possibilities, either by mutual consent or by individual veto, that being the standard protocol for these kind of things. They’re rapidly approaching the twenty-sixth and final chapter of the Modern Book of Penguin Names – I’m sorry – The Penguin Book of Modern Names: it’s been no help, and Zebedee just seems a bit too religious.
Exhausted, the heavily-pregnant Mrs Power closes her eyes and begins to drift off to sleep. Sighing, Mr Power searches the room for inspiration. Their other kids, Full, Will, Super and Knowledge-Is are quietly watching TV. The dog is lying lazily in front of the fire. Wait. The dog! Let’s name him after the dog!

Because then we can call them both in from the garden with just one shout. It’s genius!

Quickly, he wakes his wife:

“Corridorsof! I’ve thought of a name!”
She awakens: “What are you going on about, Hydroelectric?”
“A name! For the boy! Max!”
The dog looks up.
“But that’s we called the dog.”
“Yeah, but he won’t last forever.”
“Good point. That’ll do then,” she mumbles and dozes off again.

…and that’s how it happened.

Further information on Max Power:

He once feared that he was named after Homer Simpson’s alter ego in The Simpsons episode “Homer to the Max“, before discovering that the episode aired when he was six years old. He has also posed for a motoring magazine which shares his name. Power has a son, Max.

Imaginative. Although I should point out that all this information came from the Daily Fail. So, you know, it could all be nonsense.

Apart from the story about the evening he got his name. That’s 100% true.

UPDATE: Even better, it turns out that Max’s mother is actually called Maxine (and not Corridorsof). But he clearly states in the article that he was named after the dog, and not her.

‘Thankfully, the labrador won,’ says Power. ‘My mum’s name is Maxine, so I’m glad I didn’t get that.’

But if you work it out, that means that they named the dog after his Mum, and him after the dog. Bonkers!