Carly Lyes wins the Vikki Orvice award, Dylan Mclaren wins the Hugh McIlvanney award and Keane Handley wins the Unheard Voices award sponsored by Kick It Out.
By Jim White, Telegraph and FWA National Executive Committee
After a seriously challenging judging process, the three winners of the FWA Student Football Writer of the Year awards for 2025 have been decided. Among some excellent entries which suggest the future of football writing is in good shape, these were judged to be the ones which best fulfilled the criteria of originality, application and delivery.
In the FWA Vikki Orvice Student Football Writer of the Year, the winner was Carly Lyes of News Associates Manchester for her superb article about George Best modernist masterpiece of a house in Bramhall, Cheshire. The FWA Hugh McIlvanney award winner is Dylan McLaren of the University of Durham for his evocative piece about a day in the life of Spennymoor FC. And the FWA/Kick It Out Unheard Voices award goes to Keane Handley for his examination of the reasons why no leading professional male footballer has come out as gay in Britain.
The three winners will receive their awards and prizes, including £1000, mentorship and the chance to attend a match at Wembley, at the FWA Footballer of the Year dinner in London next Thursday, 22 May.
Many congratulations to all of them, and well done to the many who entered the competition and entertained the judges with the excellence of their submissions. And thanks to our judges, too.
Pictured (left to right). Carly Lyes, Dylan McLaren and Keane Handley
The Vikki Orvice award winner – Carly Lyes, News Associates, Manchester
A tragic drunk who threw his talent away. A violent womaniser. An ungrateful alcoholic who selfishly ruined a liver transplant. These were the unflattering accusations George Best was referring to when he asserted: “They’ll forget all the rubbish when I’m gone and remember the football.”
The George I idolise is a different George. A footballing genius who set English football alight with mesmerising runs and breathtaking agility; a cultural icon, the pinnacle of 1960s cool. The George who, whether it was football or fashion, did everything with panache and flair.
In 1969, when British football’s first megastar decided to build a home, not just any old house would do. It had to be like George himself – spectacular. George needed a home which reflected the unique creative expression he demonstrated off the pitch as well as on it, befitting of a man who absorbed influences that put him at the cutting edge of 1960s culture.
George’s man-about-town lifestyle exposed him to a world of late-night deals brokered over whisky and cigars in Deansgate drinking dens. Here he came across Frazer Crane, an enigmatic local architect who built Modernist-style mansions for wealthy clients desperate to appear at the forefront of cutting-edge design.
Eddy Rhead of The Manchester Modernist Society, a creative project dedicated to celebrating twentieth century architecture, told me: “Crane was the architect to Manchester’s glitterati, which George was at the head of. His houses were very “groovy” in a late ‘60s/early ‘70s way. George’s only specifications for the house were “Give me a house big enough for a sunken bath and a full-sized snooker table”, which Crane certainly delivered.”
The completed house featured in a 1971 edition of House and Garden magazine. Sleek tiled walls, huge floor-to-ceiling windows, and a TV and record player that disappear into the chimney stack at the touch of a button make it feel more Bond Villain lair than Bramhall bolthole.
It soon became apparent that life in the house George named “Que Sera” wasn’t going to be the relaxing idyll he had envisaged. The house was supposed to be a retreat from an increasingly chaotic world; situated out of the hubbub of Manchester, and close to the airport for quick getaways to Majorca.
Crane decided to build a living room with enormous windows on the first floor to take advantage of views across the Pennines and create a sense of peace and nature. The chaos of George’s world meant the result was anything but peaceful.
The house soon became a tourist hotspot. Sunday coach parties turned up for picnics in the garden; visitors stole pieces of the lawn and fish from the ornamental pond. The quirky, futuristic design was plagued with drawbacks. George complained: “The controls were all well and good until I discovered that when an aeroplane went overhead it set off the whole system. It was like a madhouse.”
The house has been positioned by some as an exacerbating factor of George’s decline; a visual emblem of George’s poor decision making that prioritised hedonism over professionalism.
Eddy Rhead thinks the house’s role in George’s downfall has been exaggerated. “George made a lot of bad decisions in his life, but building a posh house in Cheshire is very low down on the list of his worst ones. It didn’t give him the privacy that he needed and the ‘party’ feel probably only compounded his slide down the slippery slope, but you can’t blame the poor house itself for his demise.”
Although Best once described the house as a “monstrosity”, he eventually admitted it was “A stroke of genius, but in the wrong place at the wrong time”. It probably should have been situated on a hilltop outside LA rather than a semi-rural through road outside Stockport.
George lasted barely two years in the house, moving back to his old landlady Mrs Fullaway’s suburban semi in 1972. The design quirks could be lived with, but the real failing of the house was the lack of things which couldn’t be provided by even the most perfect architect: People. Life. The warmth that came from being within a family.
There is another overlooked George beyond the weathered tropes of the international playboy and the tragic drunk; the George who just wanted to go home and be around those he loved, and who loved him. “When I get home, I want somewhere restful and soothing. I suppose it’s because my life is frantic and noisy. I want a home which is a complete contrast.”
For all the gimmicks, sunken baths and built-in bars, British football’s first global icon learnt that it’s the simple things a home offers that matter most – comfort, familiarity, and family. Young footballers today would do well to remember George’s lesson when the trappings of fame and the estate agents of Cheshire come calling.
The Hugh Mclvanney Award winner– Dylan McLaren, University of Durham
“That’s not today’s team” jokes Graeme Lee, while rapidly rubbing out the whiteboard on his office wall. His Spennymoor Town side face Buxton in less than three hours, though his calm demeanour would tell you otherwise.
In his year in charge, Lee has developed a passionate brand of football. A lot of the players at his disposal are local, and know what football means to people here. “I always think it’s us,” he says in regard to his tactical approach. “I think about the way we play, the shape and the intensity. If we tick all those boxes, we should be beating teams.”
Twenty years before becoming manager, Graeme’s father Tony did the same. “It was a big [reason why I chose Spennymoor],” he admits. “I had options before coming here, but one of the big pulls was my dad.” Tony was a true legend of non-league football, and it is beautiful to see his passion has been passed on. “I think James Curtis played under my dad, and he played some minutes for me. He’s the only player to ever do that,” Lee says proudly.
This connection is something unique to the North East. Football is pivotal to the lives of the people here, with every Saturday dedicated to the club. “To be at this level for the town size we are is amazing,” he says. The Brewery Field is the heart of the community. I’ve been to much larger grounds that don’t have the same feel to it.
As you enter the ground, there is a large ironwork frame to the main gate, with an inscription reading just ‘Spennymoor’. No mention of football. Lee says: “there are people within this club who work tirelessly behind the scenes. It’s an amazing club ran in such a fantastic way, that’s why we are where we are.” They would not be competing against teams from much larger and richer areas if not for the dedication of the local community.
Does this tradition and emotion make the North East the best place in the world for football? Lee certainly thinks so. “Oh yeah, I’d be biased as anything, yeah,” he says with a grin. “Of course I do. Look at the amount of local talent we brought into the first team, look through at the lads I’ve worked with who are playing professional football all around. It’s a wonderful place at how we develop players,” he says proudly. “My son plays on a Saturday, so I get to travel and see the next generation as well, and it’s some fantastic talent out there.”
It was at this point a gentlemen entered Lee’s office to give him a chocolate bar. If I was taking charge of a team in front of 1,500 people in a few hours, I would struggle to stomach anything. However, as he had been throughout the interview, Lee was relaxed, collected and talkative.
Students are often hesitant to leave the city and rarely do so unless it’s a trip to Newcastle or the beach. Yet Spennymoor is only a short bus ride away — not even 20 minutes. “I feel as though we are probably the closest club in the in the area for students to come and watch,” he says. “I think just getting people here, they’ll realise what an entertaining and well ran club it is. They might support their own hometown team, but it could be they adopt us as their second team. I think anyone coming here will enjoy it.”
Of everything Lee told me on the day, it was this closing remark that stuck most. Over my few years in Durham, I had adopted Spennymoor Town as my second team. That nervous fresher who went to a game with his JCR president was now interviewing the manager. My friends and I always eagerly anticipate a trip to Spennymoor on a Saturday. I have taken my mum to see the Moors play away, and she doesn’t even watch football. I now get messages from her every Saturday about the team. This club has come to mean a great deal to me, and I feel every student would be missing out if they didn’t visit.
As I thanked Lee for his time, he took us down the players tunnel and onto the pitch to take photos. I doubt I’ll ever again have a football manager taking pictures of me on the pitch hours before kick-off. It speaks volumes about Lee’s character—a perfect reflection of this wonderful, well-run club that embodies the unique football culture of the North East. It is passionate, resilient, and deeply connected to its community. Falling in love with Spennymoor Town has been a privilege, and I urge everyone to experience the magic of this team and this town for themselves.
The FWA/Kick It Out Unheard Voices award winner – Keane Handley, University of Cambridge
I was born into football, named after Manchester United legend Roy Keane and brought up with my beloved Dagenham & Redbridge, proudly taking the pilgrimage from Cambridge to Victoria Road every other weekend. I was also born gay. These two things shouldn’t be read as, but are too often seen as, a contradiction in terms.
The issue of homophobia in football has resurfaced recently, and has been brought home after discussions about LGBTQ+ rights in host nations of the World Cup abroad, in Qatar (2022) and Saudi Arabia (2034). David Coote’s fear of coming out as gay as a Premier League referee also brings to the fore to the UK football community that there is still more to be done at home to foster a more welcoming and inclusive environment.
Everyone must be able to feel comfortable with who they are, and not just with an absence of fear but with a true sense of belonging. Football does not and must not ever belong to one group. The game belongs to all supporters with a deep affinity to a team, a place, a community. It is a sport that breathes purpose into the lives of those from every race, gender, religion, class and sexual orientation.
Football is a game with proud working-class roots, however it has been gripped by misogynistic, racist and homophobic attitudes for far too long. In highlighting this, I hasten to add that as Nadia Whittome MP outlines: “racism is not a working class trait” but rather “woven into the fabric of our society from the top down” – equally, homophobia is not a working class trait. We must be cautious in conflating the proud working-class origins of football with discrimination. Providing class as an undertone to explain why football appears to have a unique issue with homophobia in the sporting world is wrong. We won’t solve homophobia in football with classist rhetoric.
The men’s football world has shifted attitudes along with wider society but I can’t help but think that it continues to lag behind. David Coote’s fear of coming out is a stark reminder of this, as he criticised the “macho” environment that men’s football still maintains, in spite of initiatives from the sport’s authorities such as the ‘Rainbow Laces’ campaign. These campaigns have not come without controversy and calls to ‘keep politics out of football’, but that phrase just doesn’t hold. It is not ‘keeping politics out of football’ that is the issue; in doing so we would be keeping people out of football. Football is all about people and if people can’t bring their whole selves to the game, both on the pitch and in the terraces, then the sport is infinitely worse off for it.
It is an ‘invisibility’ that Adam Crafton, an openly gay football writer, alluded to when he spoke to Varsity in 2023, with homophobic language being so normalised in football parlance that it too often passes without comment or challenge, especially when it has not been necessarily aimed at an openly gay player. However, it doesn’t pass without consequence. Part of the reason why there are very few openly gay players and no high-profile current players in the men’s game is the fear of lack of acceptance that such comments ignite.
The fact that this abuse isn’t as personal, perhaps having not been directed at one player in particular, doesn’t mean it isn’t damaging – it damages the game we love and every supporter and player who doesn’t feel able to be themselves. Equally, however, the onus shouldn’t be on current players to come out and lead the fight – though these would be incredible steps to take – it should be on football itself to continue a collective drive of a truly zero tolerance approach to homophobia: in the dressing room, on the pitch and in the stands, to create the conditions for visibility and pride, for people to simply be themselves.
Each season that passes without an openly-gay footballer in England’s top flights is an indictment on the ‘Beautiful Game’, and a failure of its institutions to live up to that name and assert that football truly is for everyone.
