3# The best howler I never saw

Dimi Konstantopoulos and Michael Jackson were an unlikely couple but believe it or not they both had something in common. They both wore gloves for no apparent reason.

Now perhaps that’s being slightly harsh on The King of Pop. He wore gloves as part of his act. As for why Dimi ever decided to put on a pair of gloves, I'm still baffled.

Goalkeeper Dimitrios Konstantopoulos signed for Cardiff City in February 2009 on loan from Coventry City following injuries to both Peter Enckelman and Tom Heaton. He's arguably not the worst keeper I've seen play for City (and that's saying something) but he's certainly not far off.

Apparently as a youngster, Dimi’s coach at Greek side Kalamata described him as “having the potential to be the next Peter Schmeichel.” For me, that’s like saying that Mario Balotelli has the potential to be the next Mother Teresa.

In his 9 appearances for Cardiff City, the Greek goalkeeper made more mistakes than a blind man in a driving test. He made blunders look fashionable.

But for all the howlers that poor Dimi made, this story isn’t about any of his, it’s about another howler. A very famous one. Possibly the most famous howler in the history of Cardiff City Football Club.

It took place on 23 April 1927 at Wembley Stadium, London. The culprit was in goal for Arsenal, a proud Welshman from the Rhondda called Dan Lewis. The occasion was an FA Cup Final against Cardiff City in front of 91,206 spectators.

Most of us will have seen the black and white footage; the moment when Cardiff City won the FA Cup thanks to Dan Lewis’s calamitous attempt at collecting Hughie Ferguson’s tame shot. According to legend, whilst watching Cardiff captain Fred Keenor climb the famous Wembley steps to collect the cup from King George V, a distraught Dan Lewis threw his runners up medal into the crowd.

Almost 77 years later in March 2007, I bump into a man in a pub in Hertfordshire. He’s an Englishman and an Arsenal fan. His name is Dave Lewis, the late Dan Lewis’s only son. Having found out who he is, I ask him what he thinks of THAT howler from the 1927 Cup Final. His answer is not what I expect.

“I’m really pleased and proud of that moment,” Lewis says.

“How come?” I ask.

Lewis explains to me that had his father saved that innocuous Hughie Ferguson shot at Wembley all those years ago, the name Dan Lewis would have been wiped from history and we wouldn’t be sat in a pub discussing him 80 years later.

It was an interesting thought. Dave Lewis felt that it was better to be remembered for something bad than never to be remembered at all. I wonder whether poor Dimi feels the same. I doubt it.