Into The Ibyss

Sunderland v Man City - Black Cats as Underdogs is No Bad Thing

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Fri, 28 Feb 2014 22:10:00 +0000

This weekend, the first bit of domestic silverware will be decided as Sunderland take on Manchester City in the League Cup final. City will of course be hot favourites but as outsiders, Sunderland will have no reason to believe the game is a foregone conclusion. Even leaving aside the fact they already have a decent recent record over their opponents, the Black Cats (and City for that matter) will be well away that finals don't always go the way they are expected.

Sunderland 1973

Indeed, It seems fitting to start with Sunderland. The Wearsiders had already pulled off a shock in the semi-final having overcome Arsenal 2-1 at Hillsborough thanks to goals from Vic Halom and Billy Hughes but few would have given them any chance of repeating the trick at Wembley. The Leeds United side of the time were one of the strongest in the country and, indeed, holders of the cup going into the final. Don Revie's charges were expected to win at a canter and certainly didn’t expect a team languishing in the division below to cause much of a problem on their way to retaining the trophy.

But Bob Stokoe’s inspired Mackems weren’t about to lay down and simply allow the Whites a procession, especially given the supposed feud between the two managers. Stokoe was to later allege that his opposite number had once tried to bribe him to lose a match while he (Stokoe) was in charge at Bury. Although the allegation was never proven, if it were true, what greater motivation could there have been for the Sunderland manager?

On the day, an Ian Porterfield half volley and a jaw-dropping double save from Jimmy Montgomery saw the Black Cats run out 1-0 winners and write their names in English football folklore. This remains Sunderland’s only major post-war honour. For now...

Southampton 1976

Possibly inspired by Sunderland’s heroics, Lawrie McMenamy’s second division Southampton side travelled to Wembley to take on Manchester United following their return to the top flight. The Reds stormed back from their shock relegation two years earlier by finishing third in First Division and of course reaching the cup final. However, in matter of weeks, Tommy Docherty went from potentially winning a historic double to ending the campaign empty handed. Having missed out on the title by a mere four points, United were then stunned by the Saints. Bobby Stokes’ late first-time snap-shot from the edge of the penalty area beat a scrambling Alex Stepney and meant that the team from the south coast were able to go home with more than just sight-seeing photos from their ‘big day out’.

Coventry 1987

Of course, upsets also occur when two teams from the same division are involved. Despite playing at the same level, finals can still throw up quite clear mismatches where one team will go in as overwhelming favourites but yet still come a cropper as their unfancied opponents still somehow prevail. In fact, this has happened on three occasions over the course of just two years.

In 1987, Tottenham, spearheaded by the free-scoring Clive Allen, were serious contenders on all three domestic fronts. However, despite a third-place league finish in the league – their best since 1971 – they were unable to prevent a rampant Everton from winning the title. In the League Cup, Spurs suffered late heart-break as they were knocked out at the semi-final stage by rivals Arsenal so were desperate to make amends at Wembley against a Coventry team who meandered to a midtable finish. Having won their previous seven, Tottenham were embarking on their eighth FA Cup Final while Coventry were about to make their first (and to date, only) appearance on the big stage.

Things were very much going to the script when Clive Allen headed home his 49th(!) goal of the season to give Spurs the lead. Undaunted, Coventry equalised through Dave Bennett a few minutes later. A scrappy Gary Mubbutt goal before half time restored Spurs’ lead but Keith Houchen’s famous flying header levelled the scores again with less than half an hour to play. The contrasting fortunes of the two clubs were certainly not evident that sunny May day as the teams couldn’t be separated after 90 minutes. In extra time however, Mabbutt was unfortunate enough to deflect a low cross high into the air. In almost slow motion, the ball looped over the head of a confused Ray Clemence to give Coventry the lead for the first time in the game. A lead they were able to hold onto as they went on to lift the trophy for the first time.

Luton 1988

The following year Wembley saw not one, but two major shocks in the domestic finals. The first came in the League Cup as holders Arsenal, on an upward trajectory after some barren years in the early eighties, set about trying to retain their trophy. George Graham’s Gunners were to be crowned champions of England in two of the next three seasons but Luton Town provided a gentle reminder that they weren’t about to have everything go their way.

Brian Stein’s opener gave the underdogs some early hope and Luton were able to hang on for most of the match. That was until two quick-fire goals from Martin Hayes and Alan Smith put Arsenal in front. Nigel Winterburn then had the chance to seal the victory from the penalty spot with just 10 minutes left on the clock but was denied by Hatters’ keeper Andy Dibble. Some hapless Arsenal defending (more on this later) led to Danny Wilson scrambling home an equaliser. The remarkable comeback was completed in the 90th minute as Stein scored his second to leave Arsenal, like their North London neighbours a year before, scratching their heads having been on the wrong end of a 3-2 scoreline.

The Hatters, under the guidance of the late Ray Hardford, were on something of a mission in the competition that year. Luton had been excluded from the previous year’s tournament after taking the radical decision to ban away fans from Kenilworth Road following the infamous riot involving Millwall fans two years prior. The Bedforshire club’s eventual success almost seemed like their destiny.

Wimbledon 1988

Despite all that drama, Luton’s win was put in the shade just three weeks later. By the time the 1988 FA Cup final came around, Wimbledon FC had been been playing league football for just over a decade and were about to complete only their second season in England’s top division. In that same short period, Liverpool had won eight league titles, one FA Cup, four league cups, and three European Cups. The Merseysiders were on course for their second League and Cup double in just three years so the South Londoners were really supposed to be no threat whatsoever to English football’s dominant force.

However, in similar vein to Luton, the Dons denied their more illustrious opponents thanks mainly to a huge penalty save. Lawrie Sanchez may have scored the winning goal, but when Dave Beasant saved John Aldridge’s 60th minute spot-kick, he not only became the first keeper in FA Cup final history to do so but also preserved the all too precious 1-0 scoreline. Bobby Gould’s ‘Crazy Gang’ hung on to win the trophy and confirm the single best post-war ascension of an English football team.

That Wimbledon no longer exist in the same form makes their fleeting success that more poetic. A tiny club that came from nowhere, had an unparalleled rise to prominence and unfortunately were eventually cruelly dismantled. With that unlikely win over Liverpool, they were able to stitch their name into the very fabric of the game in this country forever.

Birmingham 2011

Arsenal again and this time, the Gunners were flying high in the league, had just beaten Barcelona in the first leg of a Champions League tie, still in FA Cup contention and reached the League Cup final. Much was (and still is) made of the club’s trophy drought. It had been six years since silver polish at the Emirates was used on a cup on any meaningful distinction but the 2010-11 season saw Arsene Wenger’s team, for a time, fighting on all fronts. In fact, as they took to the field against a struggling Birmingham City, some optimistic souls might have even been making fanciful suggestions about winning the lot!

The first obstacle would prove to be Alex McLiesh’s Birmingham side who one might have thought would be more concerned with preserving their top flight status than a potential humiliation in a cup final. As it turned out, nobody in Blue was to be distracted. From a corner, Nicola Zigic rose higher than everyone to head Birmingham into a deserved first half lead. This seemed to spark Arsenal into life as Robin van Persie volleyed in an equaliser just before half time. The expected second half onslaught didn’t come however and as both teams were preparing for extra time, a huge Ben Foster goal kick caught Arsenal cold and Laurent Koscielny and Wojciech Szczęsny inexplicably gifted Obafemi Martins with an open goal to seal the most unlikely of victories in the dying embers of the game. Arsenal's season crumbled and they ended up with nothing to show for their efforts that year once more.

That Birmingham only won 2 of their remaining 12 league games (losing 7) only serves to emphasise how much of a shock this victory was. The Blues were subsequently relegated but a first trophy in 48 years would have certainly cushioned the blow.

Wigan 2013

Similarly, Wigan Athletic had been making something of a habit of last day survival in their all too frequent battles against relegation. Eventually, their luck would run out as they finally slipped through the trapdoor at the end of the 2012-13 campaign. However, the Latics were able to take a rather significant souvenir down with them following their unexpected 1-0 Wembley win over Manchester City.

The last few years has seen Manchester City power their way into English football’s elite, the huge investment since Sheikh Mansour’s acquisition of the club has seen them challenge for top honours season after season. The club successfully won the FA Cup in 2011 and followed it up with that unforgettable title win 12 months later. This time however, rather than benefit from a late goal, Mancini and his City team were instead punished by one as Ben Watson rose from a corner to head the ball past Joe Hart to provide an upset that arguably took on a whole different level of significance than those of the past.

With the vast resources at their disposal, the modern Manchester City have been built in such a way that 'upsets' shouldn't even be something they should be concerned with. By right, this team shouldn’t really have any weaknesses that a team like Wigan (although themselves no strangers to spending money) should be able exploit. Despite being in the same division at the time, the gulf between the two teams was arguably far greater than any of the examples above. Yet Wigan were able to find that chink in City's considerable armour and surprise us all, perhaps also offering a reminder that the game still has the capacity to throw up an interesting story now and again. This wouldn't be popular sentiment over at Eastlands but Wigan's win was a prime example of why football will always remain popular. Despite everything, the best team, no matter how strong, will not always win.

And that's exactly the kind of encouragement that Sunderland will take going into this Sunday's final.

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Ashley Young not the Only Villain in Football's Theatre of Cheating

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Sun, 15 Sep 2013 17:35:00 +0000

The new season is still in it's infancy and we have our first major diving controversy. It's like we've never been away. Manchester United's first home win under new manager David Moyes was marred by the actions of Ashley Young who was guilty of at least one diving offence during the game against Crystal Palace. Having been already been booked for 'simulation' during the first half, Young then controversially 'won' United a penalty after going down following a challenge by The Eagles' South African midfielder Kagisho Dikcagoi. Leaving aside the fact a penalty was an incorrect decision simply because the 'foul' took place outside the box, there are questions raised over whether it was even a foul at all. As we've established, Ashley Young had no issue trying to con the ref earlier in the same game and it was only a year or so back when he was being roundly condemned following two similar incidents against QPR and his former club Aston Villa.

Defence of such incidents usually has some former pro (9 out of 10 times, it's Michael Owen) incorrectly claiming that if the contact is there, a player is 'entitled to go down'. We also hear talk of 'inviting contact' and 'drawing fouls' to attempt blur the lines even further but this merely serves to ignore the obvious point that contact does not necessary mean an offence has been committed. Dikcagoi was clumsy and he did 'touch' Young but does that really constitute a foul? Call me an idealist but until the law is changed to outlaw any physical contact in the game, I don't really see how you can justify taking a tumble based on the slightest graze from an opposition player. Are you really 'entitled to go down' if no foul is actually committed? Even when an infringement is attempted, if a player is able to stay on his feet, there shouldn't really be an encouragement for him to do otherwise.

The fact that this is open to debate shows that the battle to rid the game of such behaviour is probably already lost. Diving seems, sadly, to be a part of the fabric of the game. Stan Collymore, one the more vocal former players, wasn't shy in putting forward this view when he tweeted the following in relation to Young:

Hate seeing English players dive. Just looks do wrong. Used to be a badge of honour to stay on your feet. #ashleyyoung
— Stan Collymore (@StanCollymore) September 15, 2013

I don't necessarily buy into the “good ol' days, when men were men” soundbites usually trotted out by those who don't understand that the game has moved on significantly since the days of knee-high tackles, pitches resembling First World War trenches and terrace racism. However, Collymore has a point about the 'badge of honour'. Standing up for yourself (literally and metaphorically) was something a player would pride himself on. Not now, it seems.

Unfortunately, his argument falls apart when he brings nationality in the equation. Stating that you specifically hate seeing English players cheat suggests that you are more concerned about taking the moral high ground rather than wanting to see the problem eradicated completely.

And while we're at it, it may seem absurd to show any sympathy towards Ashley Young but why should he be the only one singled out? It's almost impossible to imagine that he will be the only player involved in a diving debate this season.

It all contributes to the prevalent culture of cheating that exists in the game. Players seek an advantage wherever they can, both fairly or unfairly - be it incorrectly claiming corners/throw ins when the ball goes out of play or time wasting to run down the clock. We've all seen incidents where attacking players deliberately play the ball into the outstretched arms of defenders to win penalties. Is that actually any worse than diving to achieve the same outcome? Genuine question.

Perceived underhand tactics rarely receive prolonged widespread condemnation. At least not to a point where anyone is likely to do anything about it. David Moyes has claimed to have had a word with Young but then again, so did Sir Alex Ferguson previously. Teams are hardly dropping, fining or selling players for their misdemeanours. Cheating in football isn't punished sufficiently and while people believe they can get away with it, it will continue to take place. As Young (and others) knows, sometimes you get the breaks, other times not. If he wins his side 2 or 3 penalties a season, I'm sure he'd be prepared to take the odd yellow card too.

Ask the fans and they'll tell you it's wrong - but only when others do it. If it's their team, you can expect some of the most tenuous interpretations of the laws in order to justify their man doing the dirty. Taking this example, you'll have Liverpool fans slaughtering Young yet defending Suarez and United fans doing the same with the protagonists reversed. Worst of all, you get some fans attempting to explain away one of their players cheating by pointing out that "everyone else is at it". The hypocrisy is enough to make your head explode.

You even sometimes hear such behaviour described as 'clever'. When this is the accepted rhetoric used, it almost feels embarrassing to try and suggest that fairness and/or sportsmanship should even be considered. The win-at-all-costs mentality means that, sadly, these two unwanted guests have no place in the modern game. Dive on.

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Thank you, and Good Knight - Sir Alex Ferguson ruined my life

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Wed, 08 May 2013 19:35:00 +0000

Saturday May 12th 1990. A hyperactive six year old child with a slightly oversized head is running around a Camden Town council flat. He has no plan, no aim, no real sense of what is going on. All he knows is that it's the weekend and he wants to go and knock for his mates so they could go enjoy the springtime sunshine in the communal play area. Said play area doesn't feature much. A swing, a slide, but also some walls which he and his pals would like to climb and jump from, showing flagrant disregard for their own safety and well being. For all his enthusiasm however, the child was still one to be easily distracted by other things, television being the main one. That big grey box of light in the living room would so often prove to be the draw that prevented him from indulging his desire to leave the house and hone in his playful instincts.

The young lad had more than likely been awake for some hours watching cartoons and children's programmes. While his poor mum was busy shopping/cooking/attending to her two year old daughter, the big headed boy would be planted in front of the box. Today, something strange was happening. BBC One seemed to be talking an awful lot about football. “How strange” the boy figured. “football matches are only ever televised on Sunday”. It didn't take long for him to deduce that it was the FA Cup Final. The boy was slightly confused. Just a few months earlier, he had sat down to watch Nottingham Forest beat Oldham to win 'the Cup' (after which, he decided that Forest were naturally the best team in the country...nay, the world!) so why was there another final so soon? “It must be a different cup. For rubbish teams” was the unwavering conclusion he drew.

The game would feature Crystal Palace. A side from from his very own city of London. A team of plucky heroes and underdogs who had defied the odds to make it to their first ever final. The television kept saying what an amazing achievement it would be if they were to beat their opponents, some fairly average team from the north called Manchester United who never really won much themselves in those days. Naturally, the boy was swayed and, on this day alone, would be cheering on this side affectionately referred to as the Eagles. Seeing as their opponents' nickname was the 'Red Devils', the boy knew his churchgoing mother would certainly not approve of him lending his support to them. They were the bad guys and as Ghostbusters and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles had taught him, the bad guys always lose at the end.

Except, as we would soon discover, these bad guys didn't lose. Ever.

After a thrilling 3-3 draw, the game was set for a replay. The boy still hoped for a Palace win in the return game the following Thursday. However, as it was a school night, he wasn't allowed to stay up and watch it so the following morning when he discovered that a Lee Martin goal had settled the game in favour of 'The Devils', he was understandably, albeit temporarily disappointed (That was, of course, until something else grabbed his attention).

That was Sir Alex Ferguson's first trophy as manager of Manchester United. Even in my youthful naivety it made me somewhat miserable at the time. But it didn't matter. It was just one trophy. For a side without a particularly great recent record of success, I foolishly imagined people would barely even remember this isolated victory a year down the line. If you told me back then that I'd have to get used to it as the next 23 years of my life would be the same, I would have thought you were crazy and told everyone in school not to be your friend any more.

Curiously, such was Manchester United's level of mediocrity at the time, the accepted belief is that the United boss was on the brink of getting sacked and it was that cup win that saved his job. Appointed in 1986, the first four years of his tenure could only be described as bang average. A mid table side who would would only fleetingly flirt with with the top of the table before returning to irrelevance and obscurity. Ferguson's debut match was 2-0 league defeat to Oxford United which tells you all you need to know about the stature of the club at the time. Growing up in London back then you wouldn't have known many United fans. Nowadays, you are never more than six feet away from one. Like rats...

Going into 1990, there was actually a real risk of the Reds being drawn into a relegation battle. The club were on an awful run in the league having gone eight games without a win and an upcoming FA Cup 3rd round tie against the abovementioned Forest – one of the division's stronger sides – didn't look particularly enticing. As I say, it is widely believed that a loss would have seen Ferguson handed his P45. Something that would not have been an unpopular move. Three months before the Forest game, United actually lost 2-1 at home to Palace prompting one disgruntled fan to knock up a banner expressing his frustrations. Thankfully, Mark Robins popped up to score the only goal to give United a narrow win and buy Fergie some precious time. Had it not been for Robins, who knows what the future would have held for the club? Names touted to take over apparently included Terry Venables. Amazing, isn't it?

United finished the season in 13th place – a mere five points above the relegation zone and actually level on points with their cup final opponents. It's difficult to imagine Alex Ferguson would have kept his job but for the cup victory. Needless to say, it was all uphill from there. Sir Alex has since added four more FA Cup wins to his CV making him the most successful manager in the competition's history and United the most successful team with a grand total of 11 wins.

Two years later, Ferguson and United won the League Cup with a 1-0 victory over Nottingham Forest – the first in the club's long history and something he has gone on to repeat three more times. Only Brian Clough, the man he beat in 1992, has won as many as a manager.

However, the holy grail for United was, is and has always been the League. Sir Matt Busby was the last man to lead to club to championship success back in 1967 so their push in the final season of the old First Division had been a long time coming. Unfortunately for Ferguson, they were narrowly edged into second place by Leeds United.

The opportunity to win a first league title in 25 years that season was denied partly due to a late season 2-0 defeat against great rivals Liverpool. The Merseysiders themselves were at the end of a two decade run of unrivalled success which saw them rise and sit alone at the summit of the English game with 18 league titles. Well clear of Arsenal's 10 and United's 7. The history of hatred between the two clubs is extensive so it is fair to say, there would have been a fair bit of belly laughing and schadenfreude after derailing United's title bid.

Not to be deterred, the inaugural season of the Premier League in 1993 saw Ferguson, with the signing of Leeds' best player Eric Cantona, finally win that much sought after league crown and set the wheels in motion for a period of dominance that would eclipse that of the North West chums. Speaking in 2002, Ferguson unashamedly declared that his greatest challenge was “knocking Liverpool right off their fucking perch”. A motivation perhaps sparked by the fact that following that initial Premier League success, Liverpool fans, in keeping with the theme of unwisely unfurled banners, proudly suggested that Fergie's solitary title was somewhat insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

Like my 6 year old self, if only they knew what was to come...

We were sold the idea of the Premier League thinking it would open up competition, allowing different teams to grow, challenge and flourish in this new, all inclusive division. New money, new investment and an attractive new environment for players home and and abroad to thrive. “A whole new ball game” we were told. United winning the first title was actually a good thing as it gave hope to other success starved teams. “if they can do it, so can we” was the thinking. Unfortunately, the devious little Scot had other ideas. He was far from finished.

20 years and 12 more League titles later, Ferguson has not simply knocked Liverpool off their perch, he has single handedly burnt said perch to the ground. And it's not just the scousers. Everyone else in the country have been straining their necks to look over the fortress wall as Sir Alex sits in his throne, decorating himself more lavishly each passing year. None of this is by accident, though. Never afraid to let go, Ferguson has ruthlessly dismantled and rebuilt teams who have continuously remained at the forefront of the English game. Whenever it looked as though we may be thankfully seeing the end of their tyrannical reign, they would, in true super villian fashion, only came back stronger.

And it's not just domestically his presence has been felt. Following that initial FA Cup victory, two Mark Hughes goals in Rotterdam secured the European Cup Winners' Cup against Barcelona the following year. Eight years on, the Catalonian capital would be the scene of arguably Ferguson's greatest triumph. With a league title and FA Cup already in the bag, all that stood in the way of a historic treble was Bayern Munich. 1-0 down early on, Ferguson really earned his corn by throwing on substitutes Sheringham and Solskjaer late in the game and, well, you all know the story.

A nauseating outcome for the rest of us. Bitter accusations of good fortune and the whole thing being a “fluke” were levelled. But there was also the reluctant acknowledgement, as if there was any lingering doubt before, that we were seeing one of the greatest managers in the long history of the game. Despite the fact it was only United's second success in Europe's premier competition compared to Liverpool's four at the time, it was safe to assume there would be no goading banners at Anfield this time around.

Ferguson added another European crown in 2008 after beating Chelsea on penalties and has since reached two more finals – coming unstuck against brilliant Barcelona teams on both occasions, but firmly enshrining his place among the European elite.

However, despite the drive and determination that has brought him incomparable levels of success, there is an almost spiteful nature at its heart which fuels his pursuit of glory. For years, we've had to put up with the whining and complaining when things do not go his way. Referees, the media and even his own players have all felt his wrath at one time or another. The infamous 'hairdryer' iconology is a direct result of his unchallengeable approach to management, and this has even led to high profile fallings out within his own club. Many would point to his dispute with JP McManus and John Magnier leading to the deeply unpopular Glazer family running the club.

His general demeanour doesn't exactly endear him to the neutral. The desire to see United fail and concept of ABU (Anyone But United) can be attributed to primarily to Ferguson and the way he has gone about his business down the years. That said, this is what makes the man and if he didn't have this aspect of his character, he wouldn't have achieved everything he has done.

It was not simply the success which made him a great but the way in which he has responded to set backs and fought off challenges to his supremacy from a number of different foes. Like a boxer or character from a computer beat 'em up game, Ferguson has always had to adapt and refine his fighting style based on different opponents. From Kenny Dalglish and Blackburn, Kevin Keegan's Newcastle, Arsene Wenger at Arsenal, Mourinho at Chelsea, Bentiez's Liverpool and most recently, Mancini at City, the Scot has managed to rise to any challenge and leave them all in his wake. When Ferguson gets into a scrap, you can bet your life he is not walking away until he has won. In football terms, 'Sir' Alex is actually very much like a Knight of the more traditional sense; metaphorically galloping around the country on horseback laying waste to any perceived threat to his kingdom.

I refuse to believe that I am alone in having spent my entire football watching life sneering at his success but begrudgingly had to accept and acknowledge his unmatchable brilliance. The fact that many, many fans up and down the country are not able to gloat or even celebrate the retirement of the greatest manager they've ever seen but only express relief, is perhaps one of the biggest compliments that can be paid to the man.

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Paolo Di Canio - Football, Fascism and Forgetfulness

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Wed, 03 Apr 2013 18:11:00 +0000

Football and all that surrounds it continues to baffle and confuse. So after much to-ing and fro-ing, Paolo Di Canio has come out and denied he is a fascist. Unless you've been living in a cave for the last few days, you might have heard that the Italian has been appointed as manager of Sunderland. A struggling top flight side replacing their boss as they slip perilously close to the relegation zone would normally only cause some mild speculation as to whether he is capable of doing the job, some praise/scrutiny of his previous role and then everyone would go about their business. That is, until the day he either takes them down or keeps them up – prompting various commentators to tell you that they predicted it would turn out this way.

This time around, things are different. Paolo popping up in the north east has caused uproar and indignation the likes of which is rarely seen in the game. As a player, Di Canio excited crowds with his skill, shocked the world with one of the worst, yet absolutely hilarious, acts of indiscipline ever seen on a football pitch and scored wonderful goals time and time again. Capable of petulance and almost unheard of sportsmanship, for better or for worse, he was someone who knew how to make a headline and It would seem little has changed since swapping the pitch for the dugout. To simply say his 21 month spell in charge of Swindon Town was eventful would be bordering on a criminal understating of matters. Fighting his own players, over-exuberant celebrations and outspokenness were just part of the daily routine at The County Ground. Even after his controversial departure he still managed to cause controversy by going back and raiding the club at the dead of night for his belongings. If anyone ever had the idea to write a sitcom or movie based on a player, a lot of the source material would come from the career of this man.

However, it's not all pushing refs and kicks up the backside. As has been well documented, the former fiery Sheffield Wednesday, West Ham and Charlton hero caused something of a stir back in 2005 while playing from his hometown club Lazio when he was pictured giving straight-arm fascist salute following a match against fierce rivals Roma – the third time he'd done so after returning to Italy. Defending his actions, Di Canio apparently clarified his position when he was quoted by an Italian news agency saying that he was indeed a fascist, “but not a racist”.

It then also emerged that Di Canio made comments which appeared to endorse a certain Benito Mussolini, describing the dictator as ‘principled’ and ‘misunderstood’. He even went so far as to reinforce his admiration for Mussolini by adorning his body with a tattoo reading ‘DUX’ – a Latin translation of the ‘il Duce’ (The Leader) title bestowed onto the late Italian ruler.

Shocking revelations that have understandably caused the heated negative reaction to his installment at Sunderland. Fascism is difficult, if not impossible to define as an ideology with no universal position agreed on what it actually constitutes. In Di Canio’s native Italy, it was seen as a political position leaning very much to the far right and founded on extreme nationalism. The Italian Fascist regime of the early 1900s encompassed a number of different beliefs and ideas including but not exclusive to taking a controversial stance on race and anti-semitism.

In an era where there appears to be an effort to try and rid the game of the discrimination that continues to blight the sport as whole, condemnation has been heaped on both man and club. How can we look to continue the fight against racism, sexism and homophobia when a team will happily take on someone for whom it was believed held such beliefs?

Mussolini’s National Fascist Party also stood shoulder to shoulder with Adolf Hitler’s Nationalist Socialist German Worker’s Party and adopted many of the same Nazi policies ahead of the Second World War. To this end, Paolo's previous attempts trying to divorce fascism from racism would be quite difficult.

For the sake of balance, the pertinent question to ask is whether one can in fact be a fascist without being a racist. On a most basic level, the two can be distinguished from one another. If for no other reason, this controversy might cause one or two people to actually pick up a book and discover that there is actually a difference. Perhaps this distinction is highlighted by a particular extract from Di Canio’s book which has come to light where he discusses immigration in his home country:

“In Italy, too many immigrants come over and act as if they were back in their own countries. They make little effort to fit in and to be fair, we Italians do little to integrate them.

Our government does little for immigrants, so they do things their way. If we’re not careful, in ten years’ time Italy will be a Muslim country. I have nothing against Muslims, but I don’t want my Italian culture to disappear. If immigrants come to Italy and want to be part of Italian culture, want to be Italian, that’s great. I don’t care if they are black, yellow, pink or green. I would love it if an immigrant could come to Italy and after a few years say, ‘This is my country. I am Italian’”

A sensitive issue unquestionably but not necessarily an opinion reserved for The Blackshirts. One is free to make his or her own judgements but it is important to note that these comments aren’t even nearly as extreme as some of the anti-immigration rhetoric printed in the British tabloid press on a daily basis. We also live in a country where the popularity of UKIP is on the rise and the relationship with Muslims, as well as people from Eastern Europe, is hardly the most amicable.

Di Canio and Sunderland have gone to great lengths to defend themselves and attempted to dismiss any accusations of prejudice and political leanings in any direction. Despite these denials, the stance taken by sections of the media and fans alike to criticise him was still a commendable one… if only it wasn’t too little, too late.

Di Canio's comments about Mussolini were made in his autobiography which was published in 2000 – while he was still playing for West Ham and would go on to play in England for four more years. In isolation, a Premier League club hiring a self-confessed fascist today is of course headline news. People have been bending over backwards to have their say since he arrived on Wearside a few days ago but one must ask why people are only vocalising their dissatisfaction some 13 years after his initial admission of his position.

In addition, Paolo Di Canio had already been managing on these shores for nearly two years, in which time he wrote a column on the BBC Sport website and successfully won promotion with Swindon Town from Leagues Two to One just last season. Where were the voices of dissent were while Di Canio was busy plying his trade in Wilshire? Aside from the GMB Union withdrawing its support of the club in protest, Di Canio’s alleged political stance barely made a ripple. Instead, it was his 'wackiness' and eccentricities that dominated the headlines.

The kind of scrutiny and incessant questioning he has faced after it was announced he would be replacing Martin O’Neill at The Stadium of Light seems almost irrelevant. The time for all this was back in 2011 (or earlier!). From a cynical perspective, it's not hard to suspect that the hand-wringing is agenda driven. Simply in place to protect the ‘image’ of English football’s top division rather than any crusade against fascism. Believe what you want and behave as you wish in the lower leagues, just don’t bring it to the Premier League. We have shirts to sell.

Even after this latest not-so-swift denial from the Italian, there's just no escaping the fact that discrimination is still a hot topic after what has been a turbulent couple of years with more high profile racist incidents seeming to take place at alarming regularity. By all means, challenge Di Canio over his perceived beliefs but should he really be the prime target right now? This story, while it lasted, conveniently managed to push aside the continued controversy surrounding Rio Ferdinand. While everybody was focused on events at Sunderland, it almost went unnoticed that in Monday’s FA Cup quarter final, the Manchester United defender once again faced a hostile reception from Chelsea fans at Stamford Bridge as the ongoing saga over John Terry racially abusing brother Anton refuses to die. That's not to say the Chelsea chants were explicitly racist but you'll have to go some way to convincing me that “you know what you are” doesn't have specific implications given the circumstances and events that preceded it.

This comes off the back of England fans chanting similar and being reported by FARE for alleged racism against the same player the previous weekend in San Marino following Ferdinand's controversial withdrawal from the squad.

When incidents like this have taken place on the elsewhere – most recently, in Serbia – pundits and observers were shrieking themselves hoarse that these other countries are somehow 'backward' and need to be banned from football and such like. What is actually more worrying than the fact English football fans have been accused of similar behaviour, is the silence of these same people shouting from the rooftops to condemn others. I'm yet to see one journalist suggest England should be docked points or play matches behind closed doors if found guilty.

Instead, what you get is the oft-trotted out stock claims that “things aren’t as bad as the 70s” and that “we've come a long way since then”. True as this may be, there's no reason to pat ourselves on the back and say everything is ok. It may take place much less often but anyone who would claim we don't still have our own problems is a liar. You only need to look to the anti-Semitic chanting when West Ham traveled to Tottenham earlier this season to name but one example.

Then of course, there was the Terry case which, along with that of Luis Suarez and Patrice Evra, almost felt as though it set race relations back thirty years given the way certain people conducted themselves. The manner in which Liverpool Football Club acted was nothing short of disgraceful while the less said about the behaviour of certain Chelsea fans the better. The way the purported victims, Evra and Anton Ferdinand, ended up being demonised, causes one to wonder if some players would even bother reporting any discrimination now. It hardly seems worth it. Especially given how quick the narrative changes even when players are found guilty. Suarez is currently being talked up as a potential player of the year. The Evra incident is barely even mentioned.

Similarly, in a perverse way, Paolo Di Canio doesn't actually need to worry about the lasting effects to his reputation. His politics were almost a non-issue when he was winning the League Two title and they will be once again if he keeps Sunderland in the Premier League and performs well next season – even without his denial. That is the kind of short termism that exists in football. It's difficult to combat problems when views and opinions change with each passing game. There’s an uncomfortable sense of misguided moralising with the this story in the sense it feels as though we are only discussing it because it's convenient rather than because it's important.

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League Cup seeks to profit from Capital gains

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Sat, 12 Jan 2013 10:31:00 +0000

Since their brief stint dining at English football's top table at the turn of the century, Bradford City have hardly been at the forefront of the average football fans' mind. A series of relegations and some much publicised financial troubles were the sum total of what most football fans knew of the goings on at Valley Parade. That has all changed. After the incredible 3-1 victory over Aston Villa in the Capital One Cup semi final first leg, the Bantams are just 90 minutes from a historic Wembley final. Avoiding a two goal defeat away from home against their supposedly more illustrious opponents in two weeks is all that stands in their way. Given how poor Paul Lambert's team have performed this season, it may not prove to be the most difficult task.

The first leg of the second semi saw Swansea City beat Rafa Benitez' Chelsea 2-0 in their own backyard. Since almost falling out of the football league completely ten years ago, the Swans' meteoric rise and progress has been astonishing. Currently sitting comfortable in the top half of the Premier League table, Swansea had already won at Anfield and the Emirates this season before this week's victory at the home of the current European champions. Like Bradford, avoiding a two goal defeat when they welcome the disharmonious Blues to Wales could mean a final between two sides who last faced each other in League One just five years ago. It may not be the 'glamour' tie but I will take the liberty of speaking for most “neutrals” when I say it will be one we would all rather see. The 'people's' final if you will.

Over the years, the Football League Cup has become English football's abandoned child. The black sheep. The unwanted guest at dinner that nobody invited. With it's bad breath and inappropriate comments about your wife, many of us are left to wonder why it's name is still always on the invitation list. What was once a respected and highly sought after piece of silverwear on these shores is now nothing more than an inconvenience. Arsene Wenger's candid, open admission that he regards the competition as low down as fifth on his list of priorities each season may have drawn criticism from fans and sections of the media alike but it's hardly a dramatic revelation. For years, the Frenchman has used the competition to blood younger and fringe members of his squad choosing to rest senior players for Premier League and Champions League matches. He's not alone, either. It's one of football's most open of secrets that the Arsenal manager is not the only person to feel this way about the competition. You'd be hard pressed to find a top club who will play a full strength side in the League Cup – at least not until the latter rounds. Weakened teams are often sent out as first teamers put their feet up at home and are not to be troubled by such trivialities. Certainly not with League titles and Champions League places to chase. The reticence is not even exclusive to the upper echelon as teams anticipating a relegation battle or even lower division sides aiming for promotion refuse to risk key players when they have, in their eyes, bigger fish to fry. This then leads to an increased feeling of apathy from fans. If the clubs don't give a toss about this grotesque, ugly, three handled (?) trophy, then why should I waste my time?

Part of what fosters this overall dismissive attitude is the feeling that the competition has lost any identity it may have once had. Cynicism is heightened by the fact it appears to be nothing more than the corporate whore of the football world. Of course, these days, sponsorship and football go hand in hand but the constant renaming of this particular competition has caused its credibility to diminish at a rapid rate. It is a little over 30 years since sponsorship from the now defunct Milk Marketing Board meant that for five years teams were competing for the Milk Cup. Following that, we had the Littlewoods Cup, the Rumbelows Cup, and the Coca Cola Cup. Then 1998 provided the watershed moment as perhaps fatally, the brewing company Worthington attached it's name to the tournament. At a time when English clubs were starting to reap the benefits of Murdoch's millions and taking significant strides in Europe, somewhat less importance was attached to domestic trophies. The Worthington Cup, quite inevitably, was soon amusingly but cruelly rechristened by fans as the 'Worthless' Cup – a blow from which it never really recovered. Despite becoming the Carling Cup and now this season, the Capital One Cup, there doesn't seem to be any real affection towards it. For all the name changes, there is one that sticks. Curiously, one that wasn't the result of sponsorship – although, Disney could have made a killing if they received any money every time a fan of a club exiting the competition uttered the immortal, yet disparaging words “it's only the Micky Mouse Cup”.

However, this season, interest in the much maligned competition has piqued somewhat. Due in part to the fact that understrength teams and dare I say, a lack of full commitment from some teams, has led to some truly entertaining matches and utterly bizarre results. The fact that a current fourth tier side could be in the final is remarkable enough but is quite frankly in keeping with what has been a weird and wacky tournament from the very start. Way back in August's first round, Derby County's match at home to Scunthorpe saw the Rams contrive to draw 5-5 despite leading the match 5-3 going into stoppage time after 90 minutes. Inevitably losing the subsequent penalty shootout. An otherwise ridiculous scenario that merely set the tone for later rounds. Round Two might well be best remembered for Nottingham Forest and Wigan competing in their own goal of the month competition but when Bradford scored two goals in the last 5 minutes to win away at Watford, I doubt many people would have even bat an eyelid. If only they knew...

The Premier League's European participants joined the competition in round three but as Arsenal and Chelsea were hitting Coventry and Wolves for 6, the big story came at the home of newly crowned champions Manchester City who twice surrendered leads to end up losing 4-2 to a poor and unfancied Aston Villa.

The Fourth round is when things really started to kick off. On any other night, Bradford City would have made all the headlines following their penalty heroics at Wigan but the events at the Madejeski put their shootout win so far in the shade it almost went unnoticed. Reading hosted Arsenal and thanks to some of the most comical defending and goalkeeping you will ever see, ludicrously found themselves 4-0 up as they approached half time. Theo Walcott's consolation before the break looked to be just that. However, as he scored his second to make it 4-4 in the 5^th minute of stoppage time, many of us wondered what the hell we had just witnessed. As Marouane Chamakh lobbed Adam Federici to make it 7-5 to Arsenal at the end of extra time, nothing was making any sense anymore.

Not to be outdone, 24 hours later, Manchester United sent a young team to Chelsea and looked to be heading through as they led 3-2 deep into the dying embers of stoppage time. That was until Scott Wootton, who curiously hasn't been seen since, gave away a 94^th minute penalty. Chelsea turned the screw in extra time but the eventual 5-4 scoreline told a story almost as mad as the events in Berkshire the previous evening. Swansea's impressive 3-1 win at Anfield and Norwich's stunning late comeback to score two in the last 5 minutes to beat Spurs 2-1 were both an afterthought on the night.

Bradford's win over Wigan happened to be their seventh successive penalty shootout victory. After beating Northampton by the same method in the FA Cup first round, they went on to make it nine in a row in the League Cup Quarters. A truly memorable night at Valley Parade saw them knock out a near enough full strength Arsenalteam in an upset that will be remembered for years to come. Having led for much of the game, the Bantams looked to be heartbroken as Thomas Vermaelen equalised with just a few short minutes left of normal time. But the Belgian turned from hero to villain as his decisive spot kick cannoned off the post to send one half of West Yorkshire into rapture. Things weren't so great for the other half as, despite leading 1-0 at half time, Leeds were dispatched 5-1 by a merciless Chelsea side to join Swansea, Villa and the abovementioned Bradford in the final four.

As if learning absolutely nothing from the tournament so far, many people expected Chelsea and Villa to put an end to all the nonsense and navigate their way into the final. However, after this week's first leg shocks, you'd have been a foolish man to take that as given. Instead, we find ourselves on the brink of a Swansea v Bradford final that nobody would have predicted when the balls first came out of the bag in the summer. Yet, despite their advantages going into their respective second legs, one still doesn't know what else to expect from this season's madcap competition. If either or both of Chelsea and Villa were to pull off a comeback and make it through to the final, it would simply be in keeping with the unpredictability this competition has thrown up thus far. However much people want to dismiss the League Cup as a lower priority, there can be no denying the drama it has provided this season – something that looks to continue right to the bitter end on February 24^th. The “magic of the cup” is a line that is routinely trotted out every time something vaguely surprising happens in the FA Cup. This year, perhaps the magic has found it's way over to England's 'other' domestic cup competition.

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Bhoy oh Bhoy! Celtic's Barca Heroics Gives Scotland a Rare Reason to Smile

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Fri, 09 Nov 2012 08:40:00 +0000

When Celtic packed their sporrans and set sail for sunny Catalonia two weeks ago, nobody in their right mind gave them a prayer against the all-conquering blaugrana beast that is FC Barcelona in their Champions League group match. Boasting a squad so talented it almost borders on cheating, this Barca team is widely regarded as one of the greatest, if not the greatest club side of all time. It was supposed to be a case of ‘how many’ against a side playing in a league that is about as weak as an anaemic schoolchild and about as relevant today as a Wet, Wet, Wet cassette tape.

However, instead of a brutal, bloody massacre, we were treated to as heroic an away performance as you are likely to see from a side visiting the Camp Nou. The Hoops had the audacity to take a surprise lead through former Manchester City figure of ridicule Georgios Samaras and although they were begged back by Andres Iniesta after a typically irresistible Barcelona move, they looked on course to secure an unexpected and unlikely draw. Unfortunately, they were to have their wee hearts broken by a close range Jordi Alba finish in the dying embers of the game. All the post match talk was about the Celts’ glorious failure. Brave and gallant but ultimately disappointing for them to miss out on both a vital point towards qualification for the last sixteen and a chance to leave an imprint on a rare appearance at this stage of the competition. The manner of the defeat also dealt a devastating blow to a side not expected to repeat such heroics in the return game – even with home advantage.

How little did we know.

And so to a sold out Parkhead for what was again expected to be a stroll for the four time European Champions. If they were somewhat flat in the first game, then surely normal service would resume this time around? Barcelona, with their embarrassment of riches in terms on the pitch started the game in typically flowing, fluid fashion taking the game to their opponents pushing them further and further back. It seemed like only a matter of time before the first goal would arrive. But a peculiar thing occurred. Barca couldn’t create any clear cut chances. I want to make a 'Braveheart' joke here but I'd like to think I'm better than that. Not by much, mind. The green and white wall may have been camped on the edge of their own box but they weren’t about to allow their opponents through. Even though they were up against the admittedly frightening prospect of Alexis Sanchez, Pedro and a certain Leo Messi in the Barca attack – complimented of course by Xavi, Iniesta and marauding full backs Alba and Dani Alves. Compare that all-star cast to the likes of Adam Matthews, Kelvin Wilson and Charlie Mulgrew. Players who you’d struggle to recognise if they came and sat next to you on a bus... in full Celtic kit.

Having weathered the early storm, 20 minutes in the home side found themselves in a rare and unfamiliar attacking scenario. A corner kick was sent into the box by the abovementioned Mulgrew and 21 year old Kenyan midfielder Victor Wanyama found himself rising above his marker to power home a header that sent the green and white half of Glasgow into frenzy. Undaunted, Barcelona immediately retook control of possession and came close to equalising as Messi hit the crossbar and a Sanchez header came back off the post. Celtic were able to hold on til half time. Barca started make something of a breakthrough in the second half. Unfortunately for them, they found England goalkeeping hopeful Fraser Forster in the Bhoys' goal in inspired form.

Not content with merely preventing the La Liga leaders from scoring, Forster decided to claim himself an assist. A huge kick launched upfield was totally misjudged by Xavi of all people and 18 year old substitute Tony Watt found himself with a clear run to goal to slot past Victor Valdes and make it 2-0 with just 5 minutes left on the clock. Cue pandemonium. Leo Messi pulled one back at the death but the damage was done. Celtic had beaten Barcelona and sent shockwaves throughout Europe. What a way to celebrate their 125th anniversary.

A word on the fantastic atmosphere in the ground. I don't want to get bogged down in 'twelfth man' clichés - I'm sure you can read about all that elsewhere - but even watching on TV you could sense that the vociferous support of the partisan crowd played it's part. The 55,000-odd home fans were duly rewarded for the relentless encouragement of their team. The sight of Rod Stewart overcome with emotion and blubbing like a teenage girl at a Justin Beiber concert almost spoilt the moment but I guess we can let him off. Just. Without naming names, fans of some of the other British sides competition would do well to take note of how important it is to back your team even when the odds are so greatly stacked against you.

Celtic Park has hosted some famous nights in the past. Beating AC Milan and Manchester United in recent years will clearly rank highly but both will struggle to compare to this. It’s not unfair to say that the gap between the hosts and their opponents on this occassion is almost cosmic. To deny that Barcelona are by far the superior football team will most likely see you sectioned but Celtic sent out a timely reminder that in football, you can take absolutely nothing for granted. If you weren’t lucky enough to see it happen, you will likely have been left speechless when you heard the result. An upset of truly monumental proportions.

Part of what makes this result so astonishing is the perilous state that Scottish football currently finds itself in. For a number of years the domestic league has been in steady decline and become something of a laughing stock given that there were only two teams with the resources to compete for the title. Especially given that every half decent player in the country eventually found themselves playing for one of the Glasgow giants as soon as they showed any sign of promise. Naturally, this led to growing indifference from fans of other clubs. Attendances have dropped dramatically meaning no broadcaster is particularly prepared to pay any significant money to televise matches. Consequently, all the talent, if not heading to Glasgow, is leaving the country. The fact that the best Scottish managers currently ply their trade south of the border is a damning indictment.

The exodus is not just restricted to personnel. The league lost further credibility with the continued desperate clamour of Rangers and Celtic to join the English Premier League. As people rightly laughed off such a suggestion, there then came whispers of the big two trying to get involved in some sort of pan-European League which again served to highlight the need to escape the continuing drudgery of the lack of competition they faced at home.

Naturally, with very little coming in, clubs have taken quite the financial hit. None moreso than Rangers themselves who, after years of financial mismanagement, found themselves in crippling debt, administration and finally, liquidation this past summer. Much wrangling saw a 'new club' formed under the same identity but as a result of sanctions imposed, this season kicked off with the ludicrous scenario where the team who lifted the Scottish title for the 54th time just one year earlier were playing in the THIRD division against the likes of East Stirlingshire, Annan Athletic and Elgin. How they would have looked upon their neighbours' feat with great envy this week, remembering that it has barely been two years since they were the ones rubbing shoulders with Europe's elite.

Money troubles haven't been restricted to the blue half of Glasgow. Over in the capital, they're also feeling the pinch. Hearts, under the rule of controversial owner Lithuanian-based banker Vladimir Romanov, have spent recent years harbouring not entirely unrealistic aspirations of breaking up the Old Firm duopoly. Alas, no league titles have been forthcoming. The Jambos have instead found themselves emulating Rangers in a rather unwanted way. Just hours before Celtic's heroics this week, the Edinburgh club, facing the threat of administration, issued a statement pleading with supporters to stick their hands in their pockets to help save the club having been issued with a winding up order over an unpaid tax bill:

"Without the support of fans there is, as we issue this note, a real risk that Heart of Midlothian Football Club could possibly play its last game next Saturday, 17 November against St Mirren.

This isn't a bluff, this isn't scaremongering, this is reality.

...we could be entering the final days of the club's existence."

Dramatic, desperate and ominous to say the very least. To bastardise the words of Oscar Wilde, for the Scottish Premier League to lose one club may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose two looks like carelessness.

The problems are not just exclusive to clubs. The news of Hearts' impending demise came just two days after the announcement from the SFA that Craig Levein had been sacked as manager of the Scottish national team. Recent years have seen the fortunes of the game at International level almost mirror the domestic plight. Levein's tenure left the Tarten Army with precious little to get excited about. The current qualifying campaign sees The Scots propping up their group with just two points from their opening four matches. Even putting results to one side, the performances and approach to matches painted a rather grim picture. Levein's legacy will forever be the now infamous ultra-defensive 4-6-0 formation deployed in Prague two years ago. One of the ironies of Celtic beating a Barcelona side that is universally lauded for their vibrant, attacking, fluid collective passing game is that the early origins of this style of play was said to have been introduced in Glasgow by Queen's Park back when football was in it's infancy. Times certainly have changed rather dramatically.

Levein's replacement, whoever he may be, has an unenviable task on his hands.

Curiously, there are no shortage of decent Scottish managers around. Least of all a certain Sir Alex Ferguson. Beyond the impossibly unlikly chance of him taking the job, Paul Lambert worked wonders at Norwich for three years before defecting to Aston Villa this summer while Steve Clarke is currently flying high at West Brom. Either of these would be excellent choices but again, the likelihood of them wanting the job right now would be extremely slim. Gordon Strachan is currently the bookies favourite.

For the most part, Scottish football currently finds itself in the doldrums. Celtic's victory this week is very rare positive passage what is currently otherwise a very miserable chapter in the history of the game north of the border. If you tell younger or more casual football fans that Celtic were the first British team to famously win the competition they'd be forgiven for thinking you were hallucinating after too much Irn Bru. When Jock Stein's 'Lisbon Lions' triumphed over Helenio Herrera's great Inter side in 1967 it was undoubtedly considered the greatest day in the history of the club. People are speaking of this Barcelona win as the second best and it has since has become something the whole country can theoretically latch on to. This speaks volumes of how much Scottish football as whole is in need of a lift.

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Clattered! Blues see red as ref leaves his Mark - Weekend Observations: 27th-28th October 2012

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Wed, 31 Oct 2012 06:26:00 +0000

Match of the weekend
After an epic 3-3 draw last season, Manchester United and Chelsea renewed pleasantries at Stamford Bridge in a match that will, for better or for worse, leave a permanent imprint – or perhaps stain – on this, or perhaps any season of the Premier League. The two sides, supporters and officials did their damnedest to squeeze as much incident as was humanly possible into the time allocated between kick off and full time.

The visitors closed the gap on their hosts at the top of the table to just one point with a dramatic 3-2 win - a scoreline Sir Alex's men seems to have trademarked this season. Having previously netted five times in his only two previous appearances at Chelsea while playing for Arsenal, Robin van Persie again proved to be the proverbial thorn in the side of the West Londoners as his 3rd minute shot cannoned off the post and into David Luiz who was helpless as the ball bounced off him and into net. The Dutch striker doubled the lead not long after and the reds, arguably for the first time this season, looked in total control.

The much talked about Chelsea midfield Ménage à trois of Eden Hazard, Juan Mata and Oscar was left frustrated as United were fairly comfortable with anything that was thrown in their direction. Anything that did sneak through was dealt with by David De Gea.

That was until just a few minutes before half time. Frustrated having ceded possession to the abovementioned Hazard, Wayne Rooney showed all the intelligence of a brain-damaged polar bear on a mushroom trip as he stupidly hacked down the tricky Belgian on the edge of the penalty area. This provided an invitation for the superb Mata to curl a wonderful free kick round the United wall and past De Gea to halve the deficit.

United’s defence has been under incredible scrutiny so far this term due to their basic inability to... well, defend. Just two clean sheets in the preceeding 8 league games tells its own story and while initially things seemed to be going to plan, the concession of the first Chelsea goal on Sunday seemed to be a signal to abandon any sense of discipline. An equaliser seemed inevitable and less than 10 minutes into the second half, Ramieres provided it with close range header from an Oscar cross.

The stage was set for a grand stand finale. Would United respond or implode? Could Chelsea push on for the win? The answers we sought to these questions were indeed provided. Unfortunately, they came less through the influence of either team on the pitch than they did from the officials. With half an hour remaining, Branislav Ivanovic was rightly sent off for clipping Ashley Young and denying him a clear goal scoring opportunity. The home side’s task instantly became more difficult but was made damn near impossible just five minutes later following Mark Clattenburg’s inexplicable decision to issue Fernando Torres with a second yellow card for a perceived dive when the Spaniard had clearly been fouled by Johnny Evans.

Having already been reduced to 10 men, it’s difficult to say whether the European Champions would have got anything from the game. However, they would certainly have at least had something of a fighting chance with Torres on the pitch. The second red card didn't so much hand United the initiative insofar as it was presented to them on a silver platter.

Over the past two decades, be it rightly or wrongly, football fans have always believed Manchester United to regularly be on the receiving end of favourable decisions from referees. 'Fergie time' has become an accepted part of the football lexicon and the general reaction from away fans upon the Reds being rewarded a penalty at Old Trafford, deserved or not, is simply an eyeroll, a tut and a mutter of the word 'typical'.

There’s obviously no evidence whatsoever to suggest that any sort of influence/pressure on officials exists but the frequency with which we find ourselves discussing these incidents undoubtedly allows paranoia to grow and people to fuel their suspicions.

Although on this particular on this occasion, many would simply draw the conclusion that the man in the middle, despite supposedly being among the best in the world, is, to put it as kindly as possible, prone to the odd glaring error rather then being biased. You'd be hard pressed to find a fan of any club who couldn't provide an example of a Clattenburg clanger that has hurt their team. United supporters themselves have been quick to point out that Torres might have walked earlier when his clumsy high kick on Tom Cleverly only received a yellow. Was Clattenberg merely 'correcting' his earlier faux pas? It's more likely the case he just made two equally bad decisions.

So is he corrupt or just incompetent? Neither description paints a particularly pretty picture of the Durham official.

To make matters worse, the reds sealed a dramatic 3-2 win thanks to a goal from Javier Hernandez that was so blatantly offside, the Mexican may as well have been in another time zone (Mexico's, for example). The assistant’s failure to spot this just punctuated what turned out to be a rather dismal weekend for top flight officials. A similar goal was wrongly allowed to stand at the Emirates as Arsenal beat QPR 1-0 while in the Merseyside derby, the odious Luis Suarez was wrongly adjudged to be in an offside position as he scored Liverpool’s last gasp would-be winner against their city rivals. Two points were cruelly snatched away from Brendan Rodgers’ side as the game finished 2-2.

The tragedy of all these talking points is that a brilliant game of football has gone largely unnoticed. One of reasons the title slipped from United's grasp last season was their reluctance to "go for it" in away games against rivals. The meek surrender at Eastlands being the prime and ultimately most costly example. Lessons seemed to have been learned as they dominated the opening exchanges here and were duly rewarded. However, while defensive problems remain, the cavalier approach is always going to be a risk hence the reason this turned out to be the fifth 3-2 result (as well as a 4-2 against Stoke) they've been involved in this season with less than a quarter of the campaign gone.

Despite the loss, many people will still have Chelsea down as favourites for the title this year. Like United, problems are evident in defence but the collective firepower in attack will be enough to overwhelm most teams. Having fought back from 2-0 down, I don't think there are many that would argue that if it remained 11 v 11, they would more than likely have won the game. Still sitting pretty at the top of the league, the loss is unlikely to have any lasting effects.

Racist allegation of the Weekend
Curiously, the erroneously awarded red card and winning goal were not even the most controversial incidents at Stamford Bridge on Sunday. Classy, cuddly bunch that they are, the Chelsea faithful, from first minute to last, insisted on jeering and abusing Rio Ferdinand for having the gall to be related to someone who was racially abused by their captain. These fans continued to cover themselves in glory as they decided to shower the United players with coins as they celebrated Hernandez' goal. You can't even afford them the excuse of the goal being offside to fuel their indignation given that very few of them would have been aware at that particular moment that the goal shouldn't have been allowed to stand. In the same incident, some supporters felt it necessary to take out their frustrations on a steward, causing him an injury that required hospital treatment. Any sympathy for them having seen their side robbed by the referee took very little time to disappear.

Somehow even this was pushed into the shade when, in the aftermath, the club filed an official complaint to the FA about the controversial Clattenburg, citing the use of "inappropriate language" directed at two of their players during the game. While the irony of Chelsea Football Club having the audacity to accuse anyone else of this offence is lost on absolutely no-one, the seriousness of the claim should not be ignored. Especially given that fevered speculation has suggested the official racially abused Jon Obi Mikel as well as insulting another Blue.

The allegation casts yet another dark cloud over the game. As we finally shut the door on one race saga, another swiftly decides to show up on your front porch uninvited (presumably wearing a white sheet and burning a cross on your lawn as well).

It would be remiss to speculate while investigation is ongoing but Chelsea would have to be pretty certain about what supposedly took place in order to pursue this complaint. Then again, surely Clattenburg cannot be THAT stupid to make such comments, particularly in the current climate when football's problems with race are such a hot topic. On one hand, you could potentially have one of the FA's top referees potentially guilty of racism which would prove nothing short of a disaster for the already battered integrity of the sport. While on the flipside, Clattenburg clearing his name would quite simply confirm that Chelsea football club, from the very top down, are untrustworthy liars making an extremely misguided attempt to deflect their recent troubles onto someone else. This is literally the last thing their reputation needs on top of everything else.

While we all hope this is resolved sooner rather than later, it can be probably be agreed that there will be no outcome in this case would be 'good' news.

Player of the weekend
Few (none?) particularly outstanding performances so I'm just going to give it to Frank Lampard... or Scott Parker.

Save of the weekend
It would be easy to wheel out the 'silenced his critics' line that often accompanies David De Gea's now regularly impressive performances but it would ultimately prove pointless given that you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who doesn't now recognise his obvious talent. If any doubters remain, an incredible reflex clawed stop from a Fernando Torres in the first half of Sunday's match should make them sit up and take note.

Goal of the weekend
But for the events at Stamford Bridge and Goodison Park, the 3-3 ding dong played out at the Madjeski between Reading and Fulham would have been the standout game of the weekend. An end to end slugfest that couldn't produce a winner but had no trouble producing a number of great goals. Mikele Leigertwood's fantastic opener for the Royals and Dimitar Berbatov's late strike stood out in themselves but both were bettered by Bryan Ruiz' wonderful rifled drive which swerved its way between two defenders and managed to dip just under the crossbar leaving Alex McCarthy in the Reading goal stunned.

Dive of the weekend
The merseyside derby, and all the attention prematch was predictably on Luis Suarez and his frequent forays to get better acquainted with the turf despite never actually being fouled. David Moyes had made some damning comments beforehand but he hadn't reckoned on his own captain being the culprit on the day. Anticipating a non-existent challenge from Daniel Agger, Phil Neville went down faster than a drunken reveller falling out of Alma De Cuba on a typical night out in the Liverpool city centre. The most amusing thing was the fact that the former United man was quite clearly not experienced enough in the dark arts to execute even a remotely convincing dive and just ended up looking daft.

In fairness, he fronted up to the cameras afterwards and admitted his act of folly. Such was the embarrassing way he failed to pull off the manoeuvre, it's probably safe to say he won't be attempting any Suarez impressions again any time soon.

Ballsiest moment of the weekend
Speaking of whom, the dislikable Uruguayan put in a typically eventful headline-grabbing display scoring Liverpool's second, escaping a red card for a disgusting stamp on Sylvain Distin and as mentioned above, scoring a legitimate goal that was wrongly disallowed. Before all that however, having set up his side's opener (which went in via Leighton Baines) Suarez took it upon himself to celebrate by sprinting up to the Everton bench and, yep, DIVED at the feet of David Moyes. The Everton manager took it in good spirits but most people would generally know better than to attempt to wind up the firey Glaswegian who could only be technically described as 'Fucking nails'. In a Premier League battle royale, few would look further than Moyes as a potential victor so in that sense, credit must go to Suarez. He might act like a complete pussy at times but he clearly has balls made of solid steel.

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Spured On - Weekend Observations : 28th September - 1st October

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Tue, 02 Oct 2012 11:14:00 +0000

Game of the weekend
Manchester United 2-3 Tottenham

It's almost become something of an accepted fact in English football that a trip to Old Trafford for Tottenham is something of a wasted journey. Without a win up there in over 2 decades, the only reason the Tottenham faithful have had any good reason to head up the M6 is seemingly to indulge in masochism as their side are only ever likely to endure some sort of humiliating defeat or witness repeated refereeing injustices that are often as laughable as they are infuriating. Ryan Giggs' sister-in law doesn't get screwed as regularly in Manchester as Spurs do.

However, recent years have seen the North Londoners go through something of a revolution and have found themselves flying up the table. At best an inconsistent and at worst a mediocre team, for a good while Tottenham were marooned in mid table obscurity with a penchant for the odd act of self harm - particularly against United. Now, they find themselves in the Premier League's upper echelon harboring not unrealistic expectations of competing in the Champions League regularly. This status firmly enshrined with a unexpected and historic 3-2 victory over Manchester United on Saturday.

This victory was far from fortunate either. Jan Vertonghen wasted no time setting the tone for what was a brilliant first half performance with his deflected first minute strike before Gareth Bale provided the perfect 'football reason' for Roy Hodgson to justify Rio Ferdinand's continued exclusion from the England set up. Not for the first time this season, United were being outplayed and struggled to get anywhere near an inspired Tottenham team who certainly didn't play like a team with a 23 year hoodoo hanging over their collective heads.

After Spurs controlled the first 45 minutes, the expected fightback from United inevitably came after the break but three goals in as many manic minutes when both sides simply said 'fuck tactics' saw the away side take a 3-2 lead. Despite numerous chances for the home side and a couple of penalty appeals, that was how it stayed and as the final whistle echoed around Salford, both Spurs and new manager Andre Villas-Boas were able to party like it was 1989.

Speaking of whom, the win was an emphatic way for the Portuguese manager to go some way towards answering back to his many critics. One of the recently adopted and accepted maxims, although one that seems solely to exist within the tabloid press, is that the club's decision to replace 'Arry Redknapp with Villas Boas was the wrong one. And that's being polite. Reading many of the papers over the last few months and you'd be forgiven for getting the impression that Redknapp was some kind of managerial sage with wisdom of Socrates while AVB was/is no better than... well, David Brent.

The fact Villas Boas has both won a domestic title in his native land as well as a European trophy (neither of which Redknapp has even came close to achieving) apparently went unnoticed in some quarters and attempts to undermine him have been frequent and persistent ever since he set foot in this country. A fleeting, albeit disastrous spell at Chelsea at the start of last season has created the false image that he is somehow some sort of clueless oaf who has no business managing in the Premier League. However, despite 'Arry's high finishes with Spurs over the last three seasons, it wouldn't be unfair to argue that the last six months of his tenure, when he somehow guided his team from touching distance of the top of the table to complete failure to qualify for the Champions League after spunking away a huge lead, was far, far worse than the failings of AVB at Stamford Bridge. Yet rather than being subject to scrutiny within the sports media for this catastrophe, Redknapp was protected has been able to emerge completely blameless for his failings. Meanwhile AVB continues to be crufified. Consequently, the conclusion is that he doesn't 'deserve' to manage Tottenham. Maybe victory at Old Trafford might allow people time to reassess him.

Of course, this result by no means suggests Villas-Boas will prove to be the second coming of Bill Nicholson but talks of crisis beforehand and the absurd notion that was touted just two weeks ago was that he was three games from being sacked just looks ever more daft in light of the win. Instead, the three successive league wins that have followed might want to make the agenda driven cynics wait a little while before penning absurdly premature obituaries.

As for United, they were once again nowhere near best this season and this match showed that continued decay their midfield seems to be accelerating at a rapid rate. Moussa Dembele and Clint Dempsey - the latter scoring what proved to be the winner - were both instrumental for Tottenham and you have to wonder why Sir Alex Ferguson failed to even look at either player over the summer. Each would certainly be an improvement on what is there already.

Player of the weekend
Luis Suarez.

Norfolk must be sick of the sight of the Uruguayan after he scored he second hat trick in successive seasons at Carrow Road as Liverpool put Norwich to the sword with a devastating 5-2 demolition job on Saturday.

Persistent diving, racial abuse, harassing referees. Like him or loathe him (and I make no secret of the fact it's the latter...) you'd be an imbecile to attempt to deny his ability as a player. That said, for all the fleet-footed dribbling, dazzling movement and the unrivaled way he is able create chances for himself out of absolutely nothing, questions still remain over his finishing. 11 league goals from 128 shots last season is hardly a reflection of a forward who is exactly clinical in front of goal. What people say if those were Emile Heskey's numbers?

But alas, throw enough darts and you'll eventually win the lottery (or something. I'm no good with metaphors...). Some very generous Norwich defending provided Suarez with the freedom of East Anglia and he duly obliged with a trio of well taken goals that has gone some way to lifting the doom and gloom that was making itself somewhat comfortable at the club like some unwanted house guest in recent weeks. If Suarez can continue in this vein, Brendan Rodgers might actually crack a smile sometime this side of new year.

Goal of the weekend
Adel Taarabt

I already had this section written up about Demba Ba's excellent volley at Reading until QPR's Moroccan midfielder had to go and spoil everything in Monday evening's London derby against West Ham with a stunning strike that had no place in an otherwise in a strangely watchable game devoid of any real quality. Having been reduced to something of a bit part player this year, Taarabt wasted little time after coming on as a substitute, using his quick feet to create space on the left hand corner of the penalty area before unleashing a vicious but precise strike into the top right hand corner leaving Jussi Jaaskelainen in the West Ham goal rooted to the spot.

Sadly it proved to be nothing more than a consolation - merely halving teh two goal deficit the Hammers had already established. The 2-1 defeat has The Hoops floundering at the foot of the table and with Mark Hughes' team selections continuing to baffle there seems to be little reason to suggest that will change in the coming weeks.

Dive(s) of the weekend
David Luiz/Carl Jenkinson

In direct contrast to QPR, West London rivals Chelsea made themselves comfortable at the top of the table thanks to 2-1 defeat of Arsenal at the Emirates. The blues were good value for their victory but their Brazilian defender single-handedly attempted to blot their copybook with a dive so bad it was hilarious. Rather than ride a perfectly fair tackle by Arsenal's own clown in chief Gervinho, Luiz instead proceeded to throw himself to the ground in both dramatic and comical fashion in a manner befitting of his hapless animated doppelganger Sideshow Bob. Thankfully the referee saw fit to yellow card Luiz for his troubles.

Not be outdone, Arsenal full back Carl Jenkinson later decided he wanted to get up close and personal with the beautiful Emirates turf he somehow managed to win a foul after losing a 50-50 challenge with thin air and going over his own feet.

Miss of the weekend
Oliver Giroud

The same game saw Arsenal superflop Olivier Giroud find his way onto this list after fluffing a fantastic chance in the dying moments of the game to salvage a draw for his side. Having latched onto a fine pass from Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, the Frenchman found himself with the ball at his feet, took it past Petr Cech and fashioned the opportunity to slide home a golden chance that would preserved the Gunners' unbeaten start to the league campaign. Sadly, when the vital moment came, Giroud showed all the composure of newborn foal and all the technique of a Parkinson's sufferer trying to play Jenga as he inexplicably lashed his shot into the side netting when hitting the target would have been easier.

I hope you can forgive the damn near radical thinking on my part, but I don't think I'm wrong in thinking that a striker should really be able to put the ball into that rather large white stationary netted box thing at the end of the pitch. Given that others strikers Nikica Jelavic, Steven Fletcher, Mladen Petric, Sergio Agureo, Edin Dzeko, the abovementioned Luis Suarez, Steve Morison, Grant Holt, Demba Ba, Noel Hunt, Shane Long, Darren Bent and, hell, even Fernando Torres managed to find the target this weekend suggests I'm not crazy for having that view. Although on the evidence of this miss, it might be stretching it to actually believe that Giroud can strictly be called a striker.

His own manager, seemingly as baffled as anyone watching, couldn't actually find a reason as to how his misfit frontman failed to hit the back of the net.

Giroud has yet score for Arsenal in the league and is perhaps coming to terms with the change of environment. For some players it takes time and maybe he'll come good one day but there is little room for extended periods of patience in the modern game. When you join a club to replace the best striker in Europe the previous season, you need to hit the ground running. Right now, he's just looking like a bit of an expensive mistake.

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Euro 2012 Observations: Part Six (1st July 2012)

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Mon, 02 Jul 2012 13:28:00 +0000

Spain dine at top table as Italians are roasted in Kiev

So Euro 2012 is done and dusted. As many predicted beforehand, Spain have emerged victorious and after the brutal 4-0 decimation of Italy in final, reinforced their position as one of the greatest international sides the game has ever seen. At the same time sticking two fingers up to all those who were less than impressed with their somewhat subdued performances in this tournament leading up to the final. Accusations of their possession based game being boring, negative and, most absurdly, 'anti football' were unduly harsh and at times laughable. In the end, such claims were left to look truly idiotic as Vincente Del Bosque's team put in one of the all time great performances that will no doubt leave a permanent imprint on the minds of anyone fortunate enough to see it. More often than not, cup finals tend to disappoint as teams enter with a sense of caution resulting in cagey affairs that rarely live up to the occasion. Spain blew that idea out of the water in some style.

It didn't take long for the Spanish Juggernaut to get into gear. Much has been made of Del Bosque's decision to play without a striker for a lot of the competition. The prevailing view is that he sacrificed an outlet in order to accommodate an extra attacking midfielder to aid in their retention of the ball. While this is true on a basic level, it doesn't, as the cynics would like to believe, reduce their attacking options. Playing with a more withdrawn forward or 'false 9', actually gives the team more fluidity which in turn, enhances their creativity. Tasked with this role as the advanced attacking midfield player is Cesc Fabregas who demonstrated the effectiveness of this strategy by waltzing into the box & delivering a pinpoint cross for David Silva to head home. Contrary to the lazy belief that Spain are one dimensional, a cross and header in fact demonstrates that they are capable of scoring different types of goal rather than simply trying to 'walk the ball into the net'. Not for the first time either. This was Spain's second headed goal of the competition following Xabi Alonso's opener against France. Providing the cross that day was the continuously impressive Jordi Alba and it was the marauding left back who doubled Spain's lead in the final. An ambitious initial run, a fantastic one-two with Xavi and the most composed of finishes essentially ended the game as a contest before half time.

That's not say Italy were bad. For a lot of the game they performed admirably and even created a fair few decent chances themselves. At 1-0 they were very much in the game and may have even found themselves level but for the Spanish centre back pairing of Gerrard Pique and Sergio Ramos. Behind them, the impenetrable Iker Casillas was not to be beaten by any Italian chances that found their way through. On another day, against another team, the efforts of Cassano et al would have yeilded greater rewards. It was difficult not have sympathy at the end but they simply had no answer to a rampant Spanish team whose display was as close to perfection as one would imagine possible in football terms.

As if things weren't difficult enough, they were also forced to play with 10 men for much of the second half when their third and final substitute Thiago Motta was forced off with a hamstring injury just minutes after coming on. This simply meant the Spanish could grind them down and duly scored their third and fourth goals in the closing stages of the game to add some gloss to what was already a pristine performance. Fernando Torres, who has otherwise been one of the few disappointing players in the squad, came off the bench to latch onto another incisive Xavi through ball and become the first player to score in successive Euro Championship finals. Just minutes later, Torres laid on a pass for Chelsea teammate Juan Mata, himself making his first appearance in the competition as a late sub, to finish a typically majestic Spanish move.

The once again flawless and inspirational Andres Iniesta was rewarded with the Player of the Tournament gong by UEFA and you'd be hard pressed to find many dissenting voices. The Barcelona man is the beating heart of a team that contains an almost obscene number of star players. The fact he can still stand out in such a brilliant side is testament to his ability which doesn't even appear to be relenting as he gets older. If anything, as he matures, he seems to flourish even more.

'Boring' Spain, have made history by becoming the first team to successfully defend the title & in doing so, have now won three tournaments in a row after their triumph at the World Cup in South Africa two years ago. Debates will now naturally rage over whether this is the greatest international team ever. It's often a futile exercise attempting to compare things from different eras because quite simply, circumstances change over time. What was beneficial to teams of the past may be detrimental to modern sides and vice versa. There is no doubt about it though, the Spanish team of the last five years can unquestionably sit alongside the famous Brazil, France, Uruguay, German and Italy teams that have achieved similar greatness in years gone by and it's not unfair to suggest that anybody who loves football will feel a sense of privilege that they were around to witness their ascension to the top of the footballing tree.

Viva Espana!

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Euro 2012 Observations: Part Five (27th-28th June 2012)

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Sat, 30 Jun 2012 10:13:00 +0000

Spain are spot on as Ronaldo is forced to pay the Penalty

The penalty shoot out. Often criticised as being cruel and an unfair way of deciding the outcome of a football match. A paradox of controlled random occurrences that more often than not prevents the better football team from success. Recently, Sepp Blatter suggested that there ought to be some better alternative to deciding games but aside from actually continuing extra time indefinitely, what could actually be more decisive than penalties? Stripping football to its most basic element - kicking a ball towards goal - is surely the best way of determining who the best team is. And of course, let's not forget the drama involved. The game is better for it.

Spain made it to their third successive tournament final by virtue of a shoot out as they defeated Portugal. It's safe to say that the penalties provided far more points of interest than the match itself which ended goalless after 120 minutes. The psychology of penalties is a curious thing. The act in itself is completely removed from the collaborative the 'team' and is one of the very rare examples in the game when it's outcome is solely down to 'the player' who is now out of his familiar comfort zone within the confines of his team. In contrast to the speed of thought and spontaneity required in a match situation, a penalty becomes more calculated as it allows the taker, and to an extent, the keeper, more time weigh up their options and to consider their move. Left or right? High or low? Power or placement? However, sometimes there might even be too much thinking involved.

And of course, one of the most beautiful things about penalties is that they require, with one rare exception, no real skill other than the ability to kick a ball.

The main talking point to emerge from this shoot out was the fact that Cristiano Ronaldo wasn't allowed/chose not to take one of Portugal's first four penalties. The reason for this is unknown but has caused no end of speculation. A lot of it based on the perhaps incorrect assumption that Ronaldo was somehow guaranteed to score. Given that Spain's first choice taker, the reliable Xabi Alonso saw his kick saved, absolutely nothing could be taken for granted.

Did he bottle it or was he gambling on the fifth penalty being the winner so he could hog the limelight? The latter view is one that many hold simply due to the fact Ronaldo's general aura would suggest he was confident of scoring whenever he would need to step up. It's safe to say that confidence is an absolute necessity when approaching the spot and ties into another theory was wasn't among the early takers. Perhaps Bento wanted to protect and alleviate the pressure on the supposedly less assured and less reliable players by making them take one earlier, saving his 'sure thing' til the end. Either way, it didn't pay off as misses by Joao Moutinho & Bruno Alves meant things didn't get that far. The former seeing his kick saved by Iker Casillas while the latter crashed his otherwise well hit shot off the underside of the cross bar. Only fractions stop us from lauding it as the superb, 'unsaveable' strike it was aspiring to be. It's the very fine margins like this that are all to often the difference between 'good' and 'bad' penalties.

Alves' kick provided another sub plot to this shoot out as he initially appeared to be set to take kick number 3 until he was stopped & replaced by Nani. You have to wonder if this had an effect on his eventual miss. The delay perhaps causing him to lose focus.

One player who remained focused was Sergio Ramos who delighted us with the aesthetically pleasing chipped penalty or 'Panenka' named after its first proponent. As a variation on the primal act of simply shooting, this is that 'rare exception' mentioned above and the closest a penalty can come to requiring any skill as it is designed merely designed to deceive the goalkeeper.

The win was ultimately sealed by Cesc Fabregas who sent his penalty beyond the despairing outstretched arm of Rui Patricio hitting the post before crossing the line to put Spain into the final. Mere centimetres to the left & it strikes the post & comes away, a few to the left & the keeper saves it. Those ever so fine margins once again come into play.

Despite failing to sparkle during the game and, in the view of many, throughout the tournament as a whole, Spain could now find themselves winning a third successive international competition and, if they haven't done so already, establish themselves as one of football's all time great sides. All they have to do is get the better of the only other team in these Championships they've played so far and failed to beat.

Super Mario's star power too much for Germany

To the shock of many, the Spain will go into Sunday's final, not to face Germany but, square off against Italy and the mercurial Mario Balotelli. The controversial striker made a late play for a staring role as one one the players of the tournament with an inspired performance that yeilded two ultimately decisive goals to oust the much fancied Germans and leave his country just one game from glory. His first goal came as a result of a fine header following some wonderful footwork from his strike partner Antonio Cassano who also provided the cross. 10 minutes before half time a wonderful ball from Riccardo Motolivo found Balotelli poised 25 yards from goal before unleashing a spectacular shot into the top corner that left Manuel Nauer rooted.

'Super' Mario has had something of an interesting 12 months. Last Summer on tour in the States with Manchester City he made the headlines for a very public falling out with his manager following a hilariously failed attempt to pirouette/back-heel a goal during a friendly. Just a few months later he scored a brace in City's now famous 6-1 win over crosstown rivals United in their own backyard. In January came the game against Spurs when he appeared to stamp on the head of Scott Parker, escaped immediate punishment and went on to score the winning goal from the penalty spot in the last minute. Then came more rumours of fallings out with his teammates before what can only be described as a counter-productive and reckless contribution to the crucial match against Arsenal that saw him see red. After it was suggested that Roberto Mancini had reached the end of his tether and was prepared to sell his fellow countryman, Mario somehow re-emerged to make telling contribution to City's dramatic final day league win by laying on the key pass for Sergio Aguero to score the all important winning goal against QPR that May afternoon.

Apt

Then came the Euros. A lacklustre first two games resulted in Balo being dropped for the final group game against Ireland. It was in this game that he managed to come on and score one of the goals of the tournament with an an innovated scissor kick that Irish defender John O'Shea STILL cant comprehend. However, rather than simply enjoying the moment, 'Mad' Mario instead provided us with one of the images of the competition as teammate Leonardo Bonucci had to physically prevent him from verbally abusing manger Cesare Prandelli for daring to leave him out of the starting line up. Balotelli showed more glimpses of brilliance against England and while he was unfortunate not to convert in the match, he did score in the subsequent penalty shootout to help set up the showdown with Germany.

Balotelli's life and career are both subject to considerable attention. He is one of football's few 'characters' and even before moving to England, made almost as many headlines off the pitch as he had on it. Although as you can see, even without the stories of fireworks in his bathroom or driving into women's prisons, his football is still enough to keep you interested. Capable of both genius and misadventure, the man Jose Mourinho once described as 'unmanageable' invokes a fascination not seen on these shores since a previous Manchester based striker in Eric Cantona – another player whose detrimental 'mad' moments could be quite quickly forgiven as moments of inspiration were often not far away.

The next chapter of Balotelli story, one way or another, will be written on Sunday as Spain and Italy renew acquaintances.

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Euro 2012 Observations: Part Four (21st-24th June 2012)

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Tue, 26 Jun 2012 09:52:00 +0000

Parts one, two and three

Cristiano sends away blank Czechs

Cristiano Ronaldo took centre stage once again as Portgual took their place in the semi finals with a 1-0 win over a feeble Czech Republic side. After an opening day pasting at the hands of Russia, Czech manager Michal Bilek understandably decided to err of the side of caution and in subsequent games, his team have been content to sit back and attempt to hit the opposition on the counter. Up until this point, it has largely been successful. However, they took the extreme against Portugal and didn't make any great attempt to utilise the abovementioned counter attacking strategy that has seen them make it this far. The previously adventurous wide men Petr Jiracek and Vaclav Pilar were virtually spectators. They seemed determined to try and simply contain for the duration and hopefully take their chance with a penalty shoot out. It is easy to knock this game plan but history is littered with examples of its success. But alas, while it may have worked for sides in the past, you don't need me to tell you how risky it is a gameplan. Particularly when you are up against one of the two current best players in the world.

Despite the Czechs approach, Portugal still managed to carve them open with somewhat embarrassing ease. Ronaldo was in irresistible form despite his personal duel with the frame of the goal. The speed of his feet and intelligent movement meant that the Czech defence were unable to get near him despite attempts to double or sometimes triple mark him. Yet given all the attention on what he does with the ball, his goal actually came from a superb diving header which only served to both emphasise and justify the plaudits he receives when people identify him as the most complete player in world football. It was heartening to see his celebrated by the watching Eusabio and Luis Figo. The two Portuguese greats of years past shared an embrace as the heir to their throne put Portugal into the semi final. While they will eternally remain legends in their own right, Ronaldo will be looking to do what both men were unable to in their otherwise illustrious respective careers by actually delivering a senior international trophy for his country.

While Ronaldo was once again the star, it would be disingenuous to suggest that they are a one man team. Without the supporting cast around him to play in a way that allows him to flourish, there's no way they would still be in the competition. Joao Moutinho has been magnificent in his midfield role. Disciplined when he needs to be, but also a creative outlet as he roams in behind the forward line. It was his cross from the right that led to the decisive goal. One area of concern would be the defence. Pepe and Bruno Alves have rarely looked assured as a centre back pairing and the fact that this was their first clean sheet of the competition is more to with the Czechs lack of ambition than any kind of solid defence display.

They face now face Spain for a place in the final and while they go in as underdogs, it's certainly worth repeating that Ronaldo's form and the confidence generated throughout the rest of the team could certainly prove to be a catalyst for a potential upset.

Greece still in Euro woe after being unable to accept Germany's change

Greece v Germany turned out to be the mismatch every preview promised it would be. The Germans ruthless dumped the Greece out of the Euros much like... [nope. Not going there. Sticking to football.] The 4-2 scoreline flattered a Greek team that were overwhelmed from the first whistle. Joachim Loew elected to rest his entire first choice forward line of Thomas Muller, Mario Gomez and Luckas Podolski, replacing them with the young and hungry Marco Reus and Andre Schurrle who supported the evergreen Miroslav Klose. Loew may well have presented himself with the most welcome of selection headaches as the understudies came in and performed as admirably as those were selected in favour of. Schurrle had a goal disallowed within three minutes, Klose powered in a header to put Germany 3-1 ahead and Reus hammered in an empathic volley to make it 4-1. Selections vindicated.

Equally as good as the front three was the midfield trio of Mesut Ozil, Sami Khedira and Bastian Schweinsteiger. Ozil and Schweinsteiger were as good as could be expected facing a far inferior side – weaving in and out, creating openings and rarely looking troubled by a Greek midfield that was so out of it's depth they almost drowned. Special praise is reserved for Khedira who capped off a fine performance with arguably the goal of the game; a vicious volley into the roof of the net from a Jerome Boateng cross. I say 'arguably' as the game was full of great goals. There are few strikers who could have scored the kind of goal left back Philip Lahm did to open the scoring while if most teams had produced the wonderful sweeping move that led to Georgious Samaras' equaliser for Greece, we'd be lauding it as one of the great team goals of the competition. Then, of course, there was Rues' rocket.

While the result and arguably the scoreline were no surprise, the evident strength in depth throughout the German squad was something that would have probably surprised many. The seamless way in which the newer players were able to integrate so easily is both impressive and somewhat scary. Weaknesses, if any exist, a few and far between and it is for this reason many people now view Loew's team as favourites for the competition rather than Spain.

Spain reign once again in Ukraine despite accusations of being mundane.

Speaking of whom, in a continuing theme from the last blog post, it now seems to have become fashionable or the 'in thing' to criticise and label them as boring. This is in part due to one of the most dire games in the competition to date as they did away with an unambitious France team without really breaking a sweat. For those that managed to stay awake, what you would have seen was a simple procession of Spain doing what they do best in retaining possession. Aside from the fantastic run and cross by Jordi Alba for Xabi Alonso headed opening goal and the quick feet of Pedro to draw a last minute foul and penalty (which Alonso duly dispatched) there was literally nothing of note to report from the match.

The onus was on France to try and deny them the time and space to pass the ball among themselves at will – something their ultra-defensive approach combined with a disgraceful lack of effort didn't seem to allow them to do. Laurent Blanc decided to field not just one, but two right backs – Debuchy and Reveilleire. Yet Spain's marauding Jordi Alba was able to get away from both before hanging a ball over to Alonso, a supposed holding midfielder, who was unmarked in the box, to open the scoring.

On very few occasions was there a French player even willing to try and press the Spanish pass masters. This often meant that the likes of Karim Benzema and Frank Ribery – both of whom have had a poor tournament after so much hope and expectation – found themselves dropping so deep they were unable to create anything the few times they actually managed to find themselves in possession of the ball. France barely played like a team that had come into the tournament on a 21 game unbeaten run and with more talk of arguments and bickering among the squad, it's little surprise they'll heading home with their tails between their legs once more. Lessons of the last World Cup still go unlearned.

As I say, it is now fashionable to criticise the Spanish. The ability to retain possession seemingly now does not win over fans. I wonder if these same fans simply expect Spain to just needlessly give the ball away to the opposition for the sake of 'entertainment'. While it admittedly didn't provide for any sort of spectacle, there was little wrong with what they did. I know that the current World and European Champions don't need me to defend them but if France didn't come to play, then why should Spain? In tournament football, three games in a week, it makes perfect for Spain to stay in second gear, maintain a slower tempo and get the required result. We'd all like to see them take the handbrake off but from a purely strategic and tactical point of view, Vincente Del Bosque will be rightly satisfied to see his side not overly exert themselves unnecessarily. As a result, they will probably be the freshest of all four teams going into the semi finals.

Andrea Pirl's on the misery for England

And so the first 0-0 of the competition, came, almost unsurprisingly, between Italy and England. In a game lacking goals, possession was once again the talking point. Italy had it, England couldn't seem to keep it. The same old English failings reared their head once more, primarily the belief that grit, determination, resilience and at times, desperate defending make up for a complete lack of skill, creativity and basic technical ability. Scott Parker and James Milner running themselves into the ground is not really a sound approach for trying to win football matches let alone major international tournaments. It is worth considering however that recently appointed Roy Hodgson has only really been able to play the hand he's been dealt. It's understandable that with such little pre tournament preparation he would simply take a more disciplined, organised, risk free approach especially given the players, and their limitations, at his disposal. That said, there's no excusing the players for their inability to either keep, or do something worthwhile when fleetingly actually being in possession.

Italy on the other hand seemed some way more accomplished on the ball. While everyone is rightly praising yet another Andrea Pirlo masterclass, Riccardo Montolivo playing in a more advanced role also put in an eye-catching display using the ball well and always looking to make something happen in the final third.

Stats are not always an honest reflection of what happens in a game but the fact that the top eight players who attempted the most passes in the game were all Italian gives an impression of how dominant the Azzuri were with the ball. The gulf in class was all too obvious even if the scoreboard didn't reflect it. It was only due to some truly abominable finishing by the Italians that England weren't on the receiving end of a truly humiliating scoreline. But then again, might that have been preferable to yet more penalty heartache?

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Euro 2012 Observations: Part Three (16th-19th June 2012)

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Thu, 21 Jun 2012 07:35:00 +0000

GROUP A

Greece Lightening ruins Russia's Summer Nights

Once again Greece have gone and left us all scratching our heads and simply asking 'how?' as they somehow managed to pull off an unlikely win and navigate their way into the last eight following a smash and grab win over a much fancied Russian outfit. After two impressive performances leading into the final group game, it was very much expected that the Russians wouldn't face much of a challenge from the Greeks and see themselves safely through. Even after the match had begun there was little indication to expect anything else. Andrei Arshavin and Alan Dzagoev seemed to have picked up where they left off previously and with an inspired Yuri Zhirkov bombing on, they forced their opponents further and further into retreat. A goal seemed inevitable and eventually it came - only not from Russia. A lapse in concentration at the end of the first half from the abovementioned Zhirkov allowed one of football's most unlikely legends to pounce on an extremely rare Greek chance and score the decisive goal to seal the fate of Dick Advocat's side.

They may have given the world Maths, Philosophy and some kick-ass cuisine but let's be honest, history is hardly awash with any particularly brilliant Greek footballers down the years. Despite being a key part of the success of 2004, the name Nikos Dabizas still prompts a snigger among fans over here who saw him ply his trade for firstly Newcastle then Leicester. Newly crowned champions of England Manchester City still consider Georgios Samaras to be the punchline of an awful joke reminding them of the years before Sheik Mansour's millions. Step forward Captain Giorgous Karagounis. Not exactly among the all-time football greats but if you are looking for a true Greek hero, he's your man. After famously scoring the first goal of the 2004 run to the final in Portugal, now, in what could well be his last ever match, he not only equalled the record number of appearances by a Greek international but also scored a goal that momentarily lifted an entire nation in a time of crisis. Of course, football isn't going to solve any of the country's problems but as the man himself said post match, the win will have put a rare smile on the faces of his countrymen and women.

Nothing encapsulated his passion more than when he was wrongly booked for diving in the second half. Choosing not to hide his indignation, Karagounis stormed around the pitch enraged, fired up and snarling until manager Fernando Santos saw fit to substitute him. The yellow card unfortunately means he misses the Quarter final against Germany when many expect a Greek defeat. At 35, it's highly unlikely we'll ever see the Panathinaikos legend represent his country again, sadly.

Bouncing Czechs prevents Pole dancing into Quarters

Joining them in the last eight will be the Czechs who beat and eliminated Poland thanks to Petr Jiracek's second goal in as many games. Unimpressive thus far and with a squad not nearly as good as those that reached the final and semis in 1996 and 2004 respectively, progression beyond the first round is something of surprise. There's nothing to take from the group games to suggest they will do much against better sides and while stranger things have happened, I very much doubt there will be any partying in Prague beyond this Thursday's encounter with Portugal. Far from an awful side – Tomas Hubschman in midfield and the exciting, direct Vaclav Pilar cutting in from wide areas have looked the most impressive – the counter attack seems to be their only strategy but one that you would expect the Portuguese, as well as others, to be able to combat.

It was disappointing to see the hosts exit the tournament at such an early stage but once again, it was their finishing that ultimately let them down. A bright start saw the Poles create a number of chances but found more joy hitting the side netting (three times) than troubling the previously erratic Petr Cech. I wonder if there's a Polish translation for the football cliché “goals win games” because whoever replaces outgoing manager Franciszek Smuda would do well to relay that to Robert Lewandowski et al ahead of the upcoming World Cup qualifiers.

GROUP B

Bratwusrt > Bacon

Germany ended the first round as the only team with maximum points from their group games after beating a resolute Denmark side thanks to goals from Lukas Podolski and substitute Lars Bender. After the new Arsenal signing had given the Germans the lead, an equaliser came after a clever corner routine saw Niklas Bendtner pulling away from the danger area, drift away from the goal and win a header that set up Martin Krone-Dehli who nodded home from close range. Seemingly content with the draw they believed would be enough to progress, Denmark seemed content to contain Germany when the scores were level. However, as it became evident they required a victory, they were forced to open up and like a great white shark, the Germans took full advantage to send the Danes home. An unfortunate outcome given that their two better performances, in this match and previously against Portugal, have resulted in defeats following their somewhat fortunate win over a wasteful Dutch side.

Portugal Ron their way after Dutch vans break down

Speaking of whom, Bert van Marwijik's misfits went home with their tails between their legs following a 2-1 defeat to Portugal – their third successive defeat and grand total of nil points in the group. To say their early exit was unexpected would be an understatement. I know I'm not alone in wondering how a team packed full of talent went out without putting up any kind of fight. Reports of divisions in the squad were unsurprising in the sense that we've seen it all before from this team down the years yet also surprising as one would think they would have learned some sort of lesson by now. Evidently not.

Despite taking the lead through a fantastic Rafael van Der Vaart effort after Arjen Robben finally decide to reap the benefits of acknowledging that he had teammates, the Dutch failed to capitalise. Going a goal down actually galvanised Portugal and the story of the match was as much about their resurgence than Holland's failings.

Van Marwijk elected to leave out Mark van Bommell for the abovementioned van Der Vaart. While his decision was vindicated as the Spurs man scored, the more attack minded approach left Nigel de Jong horribly exposed in the middle of the park. This allowed the Portugal midfield trio of Miguel Veloso, Joao Moutinho and Raul Meireles to have a field day, distributing the ball far too often to the wide men Nani and the star of the show Cristiano Ronaldo who finally decided to show up on the big stage for his country. The Real Madrid man scored the two key goals and put in the kind of performance the Madridistas at the Santiago Bernabeu are used to seeing on a regular basis.

After justified criticisms of his two previous matches, Ronaldo set out to prove a point by tormenting Holland right back Gregory van der Weil with embarrassing regularity. After another outrageous season in Spain – 60 goals in 55 games – many will be suggesting that this kind of display is long overdue. Not many people fancied Portugal before the competition begun but if their talisman can continue in the same vain, there aren't many, if any, defences left that will be able to stop him. Dark horses? Maybe.

GROUP C

Jesus saves as Spain avoid paying the Bil

Spain predictably negotiated their way into the last eight following a narrow victory over a hard working Croatia side who might count themselves somewhat unlucky to be going home from the competition early. While the Ibreians, as expected, controlled possession, dictated the play and never found themselves on the backfoot for any prolonged period of time, the Croats certainly battled hard to keep them at bay with a committed and disciplined defensive display that restricted the current World and European champions from creating many clear cut openings. Slavan Bilic reverted to 4-2-3-1 with Ivan Rakitic and Ognjen Vukojevic tasked with, and succeeding in denying the narrow Spanish creative hub of Xavi, Andres Iniesta and David Silva any space to weave their creative patterns for an ultimately lonesome Fernando Torres up front. The extra defensive midfielder for Croatia freed up their own creative influence in Luka Modric who, for the fleeting touches he was allowed, had an excellent game.

In fact, the best chance of the match came as result of a rare foray by Modric who found himself in space on the right side of the penalty area and played an exquisite outside foot cross to Rakitic who could only head straight at Iker Casillas in the Spanish goal - A chance they would come to rue as Jesus Navas proved to be the Spanish Messiah after coming off the bench to score the all important winner. Croatia were crucified with just 5 minutes left on the clock.

Given the initial resilience of the opposition, Spain needed to remain patient before finding their breakthrough. After withdrawing the ineffectual Torres and reverting to the now famous 'false 9' formation, it was his replacement Cesc Fabregas who saw fit to outdo Modric's sublime earlier pass with an even more outrageous dink to Iniesta who squared for Navas to smash home. A truly special team goal worthy of winning any game, albeit with a slight hint of offside.

In some quarters I've seen Spain inexplicably criticised for not doing more with their possession and even been described as boring! But I guess this is what happens when stupid people are given nice things. Presented with a team who have earned the right to ranked up alongside the great Brazil and Dutch sides of a generation ago, people still have cause to complain. Yes, for their dominance they could probably create more and maybe score more goals but not beating every team by four or five is hardly a reason to slate a team that, in terms of pure aesthetically pleasing football, cannot be touched.

I guess all the critics of Spain derive more joy from watching Ireland.

Ireland Given a lesson as Super Mario makes A-zure of Italian qualification

To be fair, they weren't as bad in their 2-0 defeat against Italy as they were in their opening two matches and despite the Italians still being the better side, the Irish gave a better account of themselves than we had seen previously. In fact, the most disappointing player on the team was the usually reliable Shay Given. Having suffered something of a nightmare against Croatia, Given could not be faulted for any of the goals against a rampant Spain after getting no help from his defence. However, the long serving keeper was guilty of not one, not two but three errors that led to Italy's first goal. Firstly, Charging out hastily to allow Antonio Di Natalie to go round him and get a shot on goal. Secondly, spilling a routine catch from Claudio Marchiso in the follow up to concede a corner and finally, from said corner, flailing at Antonio Cassano's header that eventually gave the Azzuri the lead.

These mistakes were totally uncharacteristic of a goalkeeper of Given's usual quality. There have been suggestions in some quarters that he wasn't 100% fit coming into the tournament which may well explain his hapless displays or this could just be a convenient excuse for the fact it would appear that time is finally catching up on him. Aston Villa and Paul Lambert will be hoping it's the former ahead of the new campaign.

If Given was at fault for the first, it would be harsh to attribute any blame to him for the second as Mario Balotelli, relegated to the bench for the game, set out to prove a point after being introduced by scoring an incredible, powerful scissor kick volley late on. What followed were comical scenes as Mad Mario then attempted to direct a second volley – this time one of abuse – at his manager Cesare Prandelli for having temerity to leave him on the bench. Only Leonardo Bonucci's intervention prevented any confrontation as he has to literally physically gag his countryman. Only Balotelli, eh?

At the time, it was probably goal of the tournament. However, it was to be bettered 24 hours later...

GROUP D

Ibracadabra! Zlatan magic gives France Les Bleus

What is it with controversial strikers and stunning volleys? Zlatan Ibrahimovic looked at his old pal Mario's strike against Ireland and decided he would join the party with a stunner against France to set Sweden on their way to a surprise 2-0 win. Sebastian Larsson dinked a cross to the edge of the 18 yard box where Ibrahimovic was poised like a coiled spring before exploding with one of the most technically brilliant scissor kicks you are ever likely to see. The ball whistled it's way beyond a despairing Hugo Lloris to give Sweden a second half lead. The spectacular nature of the goal served as a massive middle finger to the critics who seem to draw their conclusions about him without ever really seeing him play. Having just completed his most prolific season at Milan with 34 goals in 43 appearances, and having scored 2 in 3 for a poor Sweden side in this competition, feel free tell anybody who thinks he's “shit” that maybe they out to start watching him a bit more closely.

Ordinarily, Man of the Match Larsson's own volley to make it 2-0 would have won more plaudits but for Zlatan's majestic strike. The result meant Sweden do not go home empty handed but more crucially, a toothless France team now finish second in the group and face Spain in the quarter finals where they cannot afford another limp performance or else it will be au revoir for Laurent Blanc's team.

Fortunate England avoid pain in Ukraine as they tech their chance

France's defeat means that England somehow win Group D following a rather unconvincing 1-0 victory over hosts Ukraine. The returning Wayne Rooney scored from all of 3cm from a Steven Gerrard cross (again) at the start of the second half in a match where the result certainly masks a lot of what was, at times, incredibly tedious and unenjoyable to watch. The overriding belief is that England defended well but if the 16 shots on goal Ukraine when allowed is an example of 'good' defending, I’m sure I wont be the only one concerned when England add 'bad' defending to their inability to retain any meaningful possession.

The defeat saw the home side eliminated in a game where they looked far more competent on the ball and more technically superior on the ball than their supposedly more illustrious opponents. Andriy Yarmolenko proved something a thorn in England's side and with a bit more experience might have actually punished Roy Hodgson's men. The hosts may well have actually taken something from the game when Marko Devic's deflected was hooked away from goal by a retreating John Terry – the only problem was that the ball had already crossed the line but this minor incident happened to be missed by the referee, the linesman and the extra official standing on the goal line tasked with actually making sure mistakes like this don't get missed.

In this country, we have convinced ourselves that because of the great injustice against Germany two years ago, this incident is some kind of...erm.... payback? And of course, the controversy has led to the reopening of the tiresome debate regarding goalline technology. Sepp Blatter has now called it a “necessity” ignoring the fact that any mooted technology that would have rightly given the goal wouldn't have picked up on the fact that Artem Milevskiy was actually in an offside position during the build up to the chance.

What next? 'Offside technology'? If that's the case then you could easily present a case for 'shirt-pulling' technology, 'incorrectly awarded goal-kick technology' and 'corner kick not taken exactly on the curve of the quadrant technology'. Of all the football matches that take place all over the world every single waking hour of the day, how often do these contentious goal line incidents actually occur? I would guess at less than 0.001% if that so why waste time with the addition of machines, censors and cameras messing around with the very essence of the game? Where will it end?

Referees of the future?

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Euro 2012 Observations: Part Two (12th-15th June 2012)

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Sat, 16 Jun 2012 14:09:00 +0000

GROUP A

Czech-ing In!

The second round of games kicked off in Group A with the Czech Republic going some way to right the wrongs of their opening day hammering at the hands of Russia. Petr Jiracek and Vaclav Pilar's early strikes allowed them to relax and see out a victory without needing to get out of second gear. The only scare came when a horrific Petr Cech error allowed Fanis Gekas to give the Greeks something of a lifeline at the start of the second half. Again, it is baffling to see one of the best goalkeepers of a generation perform so badly when representing his country. His butter-fingery here was reminiscent of the cross he mishandled four years ago against Turkey which ultimately led to the Czechs being eliminated at the group stages. On the face of it, this faux pas does not look as costly but when goal difference could prove so decisive in these tight groups, the spill may not look too clever come Sunday morning.

On a similar note, it was curious to see the Czezhs happy to settle for the narrow win rather than push on for more goals. The ease with which they carved open the Greek defence at the start of the game suggested they could have easily racked up a far more handsome scoreline. The two quick-fire goals they scored in the opening six minutes should have been something of a catalyst or springboard to cancel out the deficit suffered in that Russia game. Instead,Tomas Hubschman's through ball for the opener and the adventurous overlap by Theodor Gebre Selassie to set up the killer second proved only to be fleeting examples of a quick, direct style that surely would have been more fruitful had they been brave enough to continue it throughout the match.

Greece's defending for the opening two goals was atrocious. One could almost suspect that they were fed up of all the unfair criticism they received for the rigid, solid, defensive approach that made them a success four years ago and decided to abandon any sense of discipline in an attempt to shed themselves of that perceived negative tag. In fairness, they could well have found their way back into the game after a strong second half display. A striker younger than Giorgos Karagounis or one better than Georgios Samaras might have yeilded greater rewards in advanced positions.

The bum's Russ

Russia and Poland renewed pleasantries both on and off the pitch in the later game on Tuesday. The violent scenes of both sets off fans kicking seven bells of shit all over the streets of Warsaw pre and post match will turn out to be some of the lasting images of the tournament. It would be easy to write off the ruckus purely as hooliganism but given the long, complex political history between these two nations, the strength of feeling on both sides is almost understandable. Whether that condones what we saw is obviously open to debate. On the pitch, Poland once again played with the kind of attacking endeavour that should have seen them do better against Greece last week.

Once again, however, a lack of cutting edge in the final third meant they had to be content with a 1-1 draw. The Russians were once again looking to exploit the openness of their opponents with some slick Andrei Arshavin inspired counter attacking. However, with an out of sorts Aleksandr Kerzhakov leading the line and Poland showing far more resistance than the Czechs, they were always far less likely to repeat the emphatic scoreline from the opening day. In fact, it needed an Arshavin set piece to be glanced in by Alan Dzagoev to give them the lead. The CSKA Moscow hotshot has three goals in two games so far and with his current contract reportedly expiring at the end of the calender year, seems to be using the competition to showcase his talents to any potential suitors. Already, Arsenal are rumoured to be interested.

Poland's equaliser came through a fantastic left footed strike by the unpronounceable Jakub Blaszczykowski. A true 'captain's goal' which lifted an entire nation and is undoubtedly one of the goals of the tournament so far. If, for whatever reason, you haven't seen it yet, it's certainly worth a look.

GROUP B

Bendt Double

If Blaszczykowski's rocket was goal of the tournament so far, then match of the tournament has to be the five-goal thriller between Denmark and Portugal in group B. After many a less than enthusiastic appraisal of their conservative gameplan to stifle the Germans last weekend, Portugal set out to remind the world that they still very much adhere to their attack-minded philosophy of years gone by. After a Pepe header from a corner gave them a deserved lead, Helder Postiga, a striker who struggled to find his feet during a miserable spell for Tottenham, swept in a superb second from a continuously frustrating, but sometimes incisive, Nani cross.

Another striker who has failed to set North London alight is Arsenal's wantaway striker Niklas Bendtner who pulled one back before half time before scoring what many thought to be the goal that salvaged a draw and crucial fourth group point for the Danes with 10 minutes to go. Bendtner's perception as something of a misfit in Arsenal colours is arguably down to Arsene Wenger's insistence down the years to try and play him as some sort of fleet-footed silky skilled playmaker type forward when it in fact obvious that his best position is as a centre forward target man – a position in which he thrives for his country for whom he has now scored 20 goals. Astonishingly, six of these have now been scored against Portugal. For years we have been bored to tears by everyone bemoaning Arsenal's lack of 'Plan B'. In theory, Plan B could be 'Plan Bendtner' if Wenger could be flexible enough to make him the focal point of their attack in certain situations and actually instruct his players to cross that ball properly.

It might be worth mentioning that Bendtner landed himself in hot water with UEFA by celebrating one of his goals by revealing his 'Paddy Power' sponsored underpants. A stunt well worth doing given the fact you expect the gambling firm to pay him more than enough to cover whatever meaningless fine the authorities hand down.

But I digress, Bendtner's heroics ultimately proved to be futile as Portugal substitute Silvestre Varela slammed home a brilliant goal three minutes from time to put Portugal in a fantastic position for qualification. Cue: delirium.

However, one Portuguese who may have been more relieved than ecstatic at the dramatic late win is golden boy Cristiano Ronaldo who once again somehow flattered to deceive on the international stage. During another typically unremarkable performance, Ronaldo was almost guilty of costing his team the points when at 2-1 up and presented with the kind of one-on-one chance he would ordinarily be able to score in his sleep, he put embarrassingly wide of the post. Moments later, the Danes scored their would-be equaliser.

Instead of wasting his time sniping, unprovoked, at Lionel Messi, Ronaldo will do well to start raising his performance levels for his country lest he wants to be compared to a certain Mr. Arjen Robben.

Dutch down to last life in Super Mario's World

Speaking of whom, another lacklustre showing in the orange of his native Netherlands in their 2-1 defeat against Germany means he will be facing Ronaldo in a must-win showdown on Sunday. The two men who lit up this year's Champions League semi final with their respective clubs and will now do battle for the unwanted crown of the most selfish under-performer in the tournament.

Robben's Dutch team failed to put up anything resembling a fight in their match against the old enemy and came away with exactly what they deserved; nothing. Whereas they were creating but missing chances against Denmark, the toothless nature of the Holland attack this time around meant that Germany were content to contain and keep then at arms length for much of the game. The Germans were predictably organised and used their possession both intelligently and patiently to create openings – two of which fell to much maligned Mario Gomez who didn't require much of an invitation to do what he does with curious regularity; score. Twice.

Holland improved massively after the restart but a disciplined German side prevented them creating many clear cut openings. It was only a fine long range effort by Robin van Persie that was able to finally penetrate their rivals' back line in the end but it wasn't enough and the Dutch are now on the brink of elimination.

GROUP C

Moderate performance enough for Croatia

Italy versus Croatia was your archetypal 'game of two halves' where one side controlled the first half an the other the second resulting in a 1-1 draw that neither could really argue with.

The Italians were the better side in the opening 45 playing with an attacking intent not usually associated with Azzuri teams of the past. The bold deployment of both Antonio Cassano and Mario Balotelli for the second game running caused the Croatian defence a number of problems with the Man City striker in particular looking very much in the mood. Unfortunately, neither man seemed capable of breaking the deadlock for the Italians and it was left to the evergreen Andrea Pirlo to break the deadlock with a trademark free kick which outfoxed a flailing Stipe Pletikosa in the Croatia goal.

The main narrative from the game was the clash of the creative midfielders and provided an opportunity to compare and contrast the above mentioned Pirlo with the Croat's own pivot Luka Modric. It's safe to say that Pirlo won this duel with an impressive first half shift where he seemed to be at the heart of everything good this expansive Italy side were creating. It was only in the second half when Italy sat back that Modric was allowed to come into the game. However, the diminutive playmaker's underwhelming performance was a continuation of his last six months in a Spurs shirt where his loss of form coincided with the team's slump. Of course, other factors came into play but you had to think if Modric had been playing to his usual high standards, Tottenham may well have hung on to third place, qualified for the Champions League and Harry Redknapp may still be in gainful employment today. Who knows?

Mario Mandzukic's equaliser came from a defensive lapse by Georgio Chiellini but it was no less than Croatia deserved after finally finding thier feet in the match. As predicted right here, Croatia could well find themselves progressing to the quarter finals. All they have to do to make absolutely certain is beat Spain on Monday. Simple really...

Spanish fly and leave Irish to stew

And of course, one has to ask, who are Spain, really? I mean all they managed to do against Ireland was exercise their overwhelming dominance and play the kind of sublime passing football that makes one wonder if the two teams out there were even playing the same sport.

In a way, the 4-0 victory actually taught us very little about the defending champions. A slight formation tweak saw Vincente Del Bosque do away with the strikerless formation used against Italy and give Fernando Torres the opportunity to redeem himself following his hapless cameo in that game. Torres didn't disappoint - scoring twice in the rout before making way for Cesc Fabregas who himself scored his second of the tournament after coming on. False 9 or real nine, it really made no difference as Ireland wouldn't have had a chance if Spain had only played with 9.

Again, I'm baffled to the point of dismay that, realising thier limitations, there seemed to be no obvious game plan from Trappatoni's team. Whereas the Spanish seemed to know what pass to make three passes in advance, Ireland found them in a state of panic on the very few occasions they were able to retain possession for more than half a second. There also seemed to be no defensive cohesion or strategy to speak of. Evidenced by the frequency with which the like of Richard Dunne and co found themselves on the turf having been continuously turned inside out by scorer of the second David Silva among others. When you lack the personnel as Ireland so obviously do, there needs to at least be an attempt to prevent embarrassment.

It's a testament to how awful Ireland were that the only positive about the match was the unrelenting noise generated by their supporters. But as Roy Keane so aptly pointed out in the ITV studios post match, there's no point in only being out there for a sing-song.

GROUP D

France toast after getting better of UkRAIN

France showed their class as they coasted to victory over hosts Ukraine in an otherwise unremarkable game that was only really notable for the extreme weather conditions that interrupted and delayed the the game. Thunderstorms and lightening proved very, very frightening as players were withdrawn just minutes into the game before returning an hour later. France were dominant in the first half but were unable to find the breakthrough. Ukraine's defence were given such a run around they were merely seeing a silhouette’s of the men the they were supposed to be marking. The poor boys needing sparing from the monstrosity that was the France sustained attack.

It was only a matter of time before they finally scored through Jeremy Menez and the feeling amongst the partisan home supporters was that Menez just killed a man. The French fans found somebody to love and after Johan Cabaye added a second, they were probably doing to the Fandango. Another one bit the dust in Les Bleurs 23 game unbeaten run. At this point they were having such a good time, Laurent Blanc was asking his team to don't stop (me now) but they weren't able to add to the tally. The result leaves Ukraine under pressure to win their final game while the France will be thinking that similar performances and fighting to the end will also get them to say 'we are the champions' come July 1^st.

England have Swede dreams despite nightmare performance

Football can be a strange game. Sometimes the worst matches can somehow be the best. The absence of quality can lead to great excitement. Such was the case when England took on Sweden. Poor passing, dodgy defending and questionable goalkeeping lent considerable weight to the view that 'bad' football can actually be more fun to watch than good football. I think it was the Italian (obviously) Gianni Brera who said that the perfect game would end 0-0. This was the polar opposite of that mantra. A match that was the blueprint of bad football has lit up the tournament. England secured a 3-2 victory by virtue of managing to be only the second worst team on the pitch.

'Star' performers on the day were the likes of Glen Johnson, Jonas Olsen, Johan Elmander and James Milner who showed that competency is actually not a requirement for a top level footballer. Andy Carroll put England ahead with a fine header from a Steven Gerrard cross before woeful defending allowed 107 year old[citation needed] defender Olaf Melberg to TWICE score to put the Swedes 2-1 up. Roy Hodgson then showed the managerial nous that his critics would do well to acknowledge by introducing a fresh, hungry Theo Walcott to the proceedings and was rewarded as the Arsenal man first scored and then provided the assist for Danny Welbeck's improvised finish. Although, Walcott's admission that he wrongly thought his long range effort to level the scores had taken a deflection is, to me, an admission that his shot was merely hit and hope and further confirms the lack of anything resembling finesse in this game.

Sweden now exit the tournament which is probably for the best given how poorly they've played in both games while somehow England are on the brink of the quarter finals. Last Monday England drew against France thanks to a rigid, resolute defensive display. It wasn't pretty but the major positive was that the team were difficult to break down. All of that went out of the window against Sweden and while it is easy to praise the resilience to come back from a losing position, performing that badly against a better team will simply add more numbers onto those years of hurt Ian Brodie so famously sang about back in 1996.

But but least no-one can accuse England of being boring now, right?

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Euro 2012 Observations: Part One (8th-11th June 2012)

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Tue, 12 Jun 2012 10:49:00 +0000

GROUP A

From Pole Position to a near Greek Tragedy

Friday saw the Euros kick off with an entertaining game between two teams many believe, either rightly or wrongly, to be the two weakest in the competition. Even as hosts, I can't imagine that there was a lot of pre-tournament money being wagered on Poland even progressing from the group stage let alone winning the thing. As for Greece, I think it's safe to say that there is very little chance of a repeat of the heroics from 2004 when they shocked the world with their triumph in Portugal. The team now is a mere shadow of what it was eight years ago and even then they weren't really even that good; Merely smart enough to deploy a playing style that teams felt unable to combat.

A match full of incident ended in a 1-1 draw which was somehow satisfactory yet disappointing for both sides. The hosts were dominant in the first half and certainly should have had more to show for their efforts at half time than Robert Lewandowski's fine header which gave them the lead. Maybe it was the pressure of playing at home and all the expectation that comes with that but there seemed to be a lack of composure and conviction whenever Poland found themselves in advanced positions. Chance after chance went begging and there was a sense of inevitability about Dimitris Salpingidis' equaliser five minutes into the second half.

Poland had even been given something of a helping hand after some woeful refereeing by Roberto Martinez lookalike Carlos Velasco Carballo who sent off Greece's Sokratis Papastaphopoulos (thank you Google for the spelling!) for reasons still unknown to even those most clued up on the most laws of the game. The defender seemingly received his second yellow for the crime of being too close to Rafal Murawski as the Pole simply slipped over.

Regardless its validity, the dismissal should have inspired the hosts to use thier advantage to push on and win the game. Manager Franciszek Smuda will be frustrated they were unable to do so. Yet at the same time, there would have also been a sense of relief that they managed to escape with a draw after sub keeper Przemyslaw Tyton came on to save a feeble Giorgos Karagounis penalty after Wojciech Szczesny was also sent off for fouling goalscorer Salpingidis midway through the second half.

After being at fault for the opening goal as well, Szczesny seems to have carried his erratic form at the end of the season for Arsenal into tournament and it may actually be a relief for his countrymen that he sits out the next game.

Czech-ing out
The second Group A game on Friday saw a rampant Russia hammer the Czech Republic with the kind of ease that suggest they could go some way to repeating, and possibly improving on their performance of four years ago when they reached the semi finals. The Czechs actually began the game the better of the two but were twice undone by deadly Russian counter attacks and found themselves two goals down within the opening half an hour. The highly rated Alan Dzagoev with the first and Roman Shirokov with the second. The Russians were inspired by Andrei Arshavin who put in the kind of performance that will have Arsenal fans scratching their heads and wondering why he hasn't been able to replicate anything at the Emirates over the past two years.

International football has recently been on the receiving end of a lot of, sometimes unfair criticism due to the fact teams have erred towards a more cautious approach, particularly in major tournaments. The idea that winning is less important than 'not losing' has led to a lot of tedious, unenjoyable encounters where teams are simply waiting to see if the opposition blink first. Not that there's anything wrong with that approach but thankfully for the neutral observer, none of this was evident here as the Czechs continued to play on the front foot in the second half despite the goal deficit. Vaclav Pilar pulled one back but in trying to chase the equaliser, they remained horribly exposed at the back. Dzagoev scored a impressive second before substitute Roman Pavlyuchenko riffled home a fourth to ice the cherry on a very impressive Russia cake. A PAVlova, perhaps...

Sticking with the theme of underperforming Premier League goalkeepers, many of us will be cursing the fact that Petr Cech didn't look this hapless during Chelsea's Champions League run this year.

GROUP B

Oranje Squashed

Holland were pre-tournament favourites in the eyes of many and on Saturday they took to the field in the fabled group of death to face Denmark. Somehow, the Dutch contrived to lose the game as Michael Krohn Dehli's first half strike was enough to give the Euro 92 champions an unexpected victory.

The goal was example of one of those typical footballing anomalies as it came from a very rare foray forward by the Danes in a match where they spent the majority of time attempting to stop wave after oncoming wave of Holland attack. It's not even fair to say that their win was achieved on the basis of a strong defensive performance. It wasn't. On another day, Denamrk would have been humiliated but on this occasion, inexplicable and unforgivable profligacy from the Dutch was their saving grace.

If Robin van Persie is to leave Arsenal this summer as is rumoured, he'd do well to retrieve his shooting boots from his locker at London Colney because that's the only place I could think he'd have left them on Saturday given that they clearly weren't on his feet. Ibrahim Afelly was not only unfortunate enough to share my first name but also my finishing ability but the biggest culprit of the the day was once again Arjen Robben. Against Denmark he displayed all the aspects of his game that have left both teammates and supporters continuously frustrated with a player capable of so much more. The insistence to repeatedly try to cut inside from the right wing onto his left foot, shoot and consequently miss was boring by the 15th time of asking and only served to highlight the two major criticisms of his game: selfishness and predictability in only ever using his stronger foot.

Cast your mind back to the 2010 World Cup final when he fluffed a great chance to win the game and the tournament in extra time as well as his penalty misses, not just against Chelsea in this year's Champions League final, but also a few week's prior against Dortmund in a crucial top of the table Bundesliga clash. For all his obvious talent, the all too frequent example's of 'spectacular failure' will be what separates him from the true modern greats of the game. Robben risks earning a reputation as something of a bottler. Here's hoping for his sake, he can raise his game for the now crucial game against the Germans.

Tactical Germ warfare

Speaking of whom, the highly fancied Germany successfully navigated their way through a potentially tricky game against Portugal. This game almost fell into the category of 'dull' overly-cautious described above but actually proved to be a rather intriguing battle of wits. Much maligned Mario Gomez headed the winner in the second half to put the Germans in the box seat in the group.

The win owed much to those cliched traits of patience, organisation and efficiency. However, it has to be said that some cliches exist for a reason. Portugal seemed content to try and sit deep in order to frustrate their opponents and for the most part, a midfield trio of Miguel Veloso, João Moutinho and Raul Meireles did well to stifle the creativity of Mesut Ozil and Bastian Schweinsteiger forcing the Germans to often look wide to Thomas Muller and Lukas Podolski – neither of whom playing anything close to their best. The only goal came from a deflected cross 20 minutes from time. This owed as much to Germany's refusal to be frustrated as it did to good fortune as Portugal's game plan was generally working up until that point.

Portugal became more of an attacking threat late in the game but a solid German rearguard action and in particular impressive performances from Holger Badstuber and Mats Hummels (and not forgetting a huge save by Manuel Neuer at the end) kept the scoreline at 1-0.

GROUP C

False Nandos

On Sunday, Spain took on Italy in arguably the least inspiring game of the opening round of fixtures. A 1-1 draw was the best the last two world champions could muster between them. Much was made about the somewhat revolutionary formation deployed by Vincente Del Bosque as he named a starting eleven without a recognised striker. Barcelona midfielder Cesc Fabregas played in the most advanced role as the 'false 9' in what was essentially an attack-minded 4-6-0 formation. The idea, one assumes, was that the fluid movement of the advanced midfielders would be able to compensate for a lack of frontman as they would more often than not find themselves in the attacking positions to finish of the chances their expected dominance of possession would create. The tiki-taka style was expected to open up opponents with tiny incisions rather than hacking away with direct passes to a striker whose sole purpose was to get on the end of them.

Unfortunately, such a tactic did not yield many benefits against a side as defensively adept as Italy – even with their own still relatively experimental 3-5-2 formation. What resulted was a game that struggled to find any real cohesion and was only really prevented from being a complete washout thanks to two high quality goals from both sides. With half an hour remaining, Andrea Pirlo played a sumptuous through ball to substitute Antonio Di Natale – on for the ineffective Mario Ballotelli – to calmly slip past the onrushing Iker Casillas to give Italy the lead. It wasn't to last however. David Silva evidently figured that anything Pirlo could do, he would try to match as within minutes, he flicked an impeccably timed pass to the advancing Fabregas to level the score.

Despite this, Del Bosque then decided to revert to the tried and tested method of playing with a striker and Fernando Torres was introduced late on. As it turned out, the Chelsea man proved no more effective than playing with no striker at all as he missed at least two decent chances to win the game for the defending champions. The first came within seconds of his arrival but a poor first touch allowed Gianluigi Buffon in the Italy goal to come out and intercept without even needing to go to ground. With few minutes remaining, with Buffon in no mans land, the Chelsea striker found himself with the whole goal to aim at and somehow managed to miss the target completely despite having ample time to pick his spot. Both opportunities he with gobbled up a few years ago in what feels like a footballing lifetime ago now.

Playing with no striker may not be the way forward for Spain but on the evidence of this mediocre cameo appearance, neither is Torres. Many will be expecting to see the other Fernando (Llorente) preferred next time around.

Trap Given reason to be Eire-rate

Next up for Spain will be an Ireland side reeling from a disappointing 3-1 defeat at the hands of Croatia on Sunday evening. The usually dependable Shay Given failing to cope with two Mario Mandzukic headers which you would ordinarily expect a keeper of his ability to do better with. Croatia's other goal was scored by Everton's Nikica Jelavic after some comical Irish defending. Sean St Ledger's consolation goal was merely that.

The familiarity of the players in the Irish team in this should indicate that player for player, they are probably one of the poorest teams in the competition and wouldn't be expected to make many waves. However, they would have looked at this match with a realistic expectation of taking something away from it.Despite the glaringly obvious limitations in their team, it's not unfair to say that they could have performed much better. Yes, Croatia are a better team and so it ultimately proved but it was surprising to see this Ireland side managed by Giovanni Trappatoni look so defensively naïve. Given all the Premier League experience in the team, it was baffling to see Luka Modric allowed so much freedom to dictate the play. The two Ivan's in Perišić and Rakitić also saw far too much of the ball and found themselves in far too much space far too often.

Although perhaps maybe I'm doing a disservice to Croatia. The overriding belief coming into the tournament is that this squad is not quite as strong as in previous years and that the purported Midas touch of Slavan Bilic may have finally worn off as he is set to leave the post to manage Lokomotiv Moscow after the tournament. However, on the basis of the opening round of games, I fear it may be a little hasty to write them off completely and it is far from unreasonable to consider the possibility that they could either upset either or both of Italy or Spain and progress to the quarter finals. Unlikely? Maybe. Impossible? Definitely not.

GROUP D

The Good, the bad and the England

England kicked off their Euro 2012 Group D campaign with a hard fought 1-1 draw against France in a match that taught us nothing new either about the England national team or Roy Hodgson's managerial style. Not particularly great, not particularly awful either. We wont win the competition, but we are less likely to embarrass ourselves along the way. Hard to beat and who knows, might surprise a few people.

England's opener summed up the functionality of the entire performance. Set piece, cross, header. I'd be curious to know how many other footballing cultures consider set pieces such a major part of their game. Not many I'd imagine. Every weekend, at every level of football you care to watch in this country, you will almost always find teams looking to compensate for the absence of technical ability by placing a great deal of emphasis on utilising dead ball situations. Steven Gerrard's cross for Joleyon Lescott is the kind goal you imagine is practiced on the training ground repeatedly.

The idea of conceding possession and waiting for an opportunity for a more direct route to goal has been the approach of managers over here for years therefore nothing we saw on Monday evening should have been a surprise to anyone watching. It may not make for great or comfortable viewing but people will tell you that if it gets results then the ends unfortunately justifies the means. That's not to say England didn't try and force the issue on occasion either. James Milner should have done better with a rare burst early on but panicked at the vital moment.

Getting men behind the ball and defensive discipline was enough to restrict France's attempts to work the ball into the box and it was ultimately a shot from distance that proved to be their only way back into the game. Had the otherwise solid Joe Hart been a tad more alert, we'd be talking about a famous England win right about now.

The French themselves were laclustre. Goalscorer Samir Nasri was probably their best player on the day along with the marauding Mathieu Debuchy but aside from that, manager Laurent Blanc will be disappointed that his star men Franck Ribery and Karim Benzema didn't do more to try and unlock the England back line. Touted as outsiders for the tournament by many, you would expect a little more dynamism in the remaining group matches.

Andrei Shev's criticisms back down their throats

There are few things better in football than when big name strikers from opposing teams 'show up' in a match. Seeing Andrei Shevchenko and Zlatan Ibrahimovic sharing all three goals in Ukraine's 2-1 win over Sweden brought me inexplicable joy. Moreso because of the fact that both have been on the receiving end of undue criticism from many so-called experts over here. Due to a handful of disappointing performances against English sides in European competitions, there is a widely and wrongly held view that Ibrahimovic is somewhat overrated. This despite the fact he has spent the last decade banging in goals for fun at Juventus, Inter Milan, Barcelona and now AC Milan hording trophy after trophy in the process.

The same misguided folk also seem to believe that Shevchenko's poor spell at Chelsea is what his entire career ought to be judged upon. Not that the so called 'flop' needed to prove anything to anyone who knows better, but by scoring both the goals to give the Ukraine a huge opening game win on home soil, he did so emphatically.

In contrast to their co-hosts, the Ukraine now find themselves well placed for unlikely progression into the next round. This win will provide a huge psychological boost and now alleviates the pressure ahead the France and England games where simply avoiding defeat should be enough to see them through. Home advantage could well play a major role in this scenario becoming a reality.

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Liverpool v Manchester United - A Secret Shame.

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 08:04:00 +0000

Due to the absurd amount of football we have access to, I think I can safely say that if you are a follower of the beautiful game (and if you are reading this I assume you would be otherwise what the hell are you doing here? ...Go on, shoo!) then you have certainly been spoiled this week. On Sunday, we saw Manchester City host Tottenham and Arsenal take on Manchester United. In midweek, Liverpool hosted Manchester City in the Carling Cup semi final second leg. Further afield, the glutton for big games was satiated even more as Barcelona and Real Madrid renewed pleasantries yet again in the Copa Del Rey quarter final second leg – The highlight of which was this:

....Not the goal, but Carlos Puyol’s faceplant. Classic Fail.

And as all that wasn’t enough, this weekend sees the country’s two biggest clubs square off in England’s very own Classico as Liverpool welcome Manchester United to Anfield in the FA Cup fourth round.

A wee history lesson: Merseyside versus Manchester is actually a feud that transcends football and dates back to the late 1800s when the two cities competed as two of Britain's industrial powerhouses. Liverpool was famed for its Port until the Mancs went and built their own rival Ship Canal. This led to a drop in trade for Liverpool and many job loses giving rise to the resentment between the two cities.

It would be a number of years before that resentment manifested itself on the pitch. In the late 1960s Liverpool, under the guidance of the legendary Bill Shankly began to build an empire that would dominate English football for the next two decades. As we entered the 1990s, they were most decorated club in the land with a record 18 domestic league titles, numerous cup wins and the honour of being crowned champions of Europe on no less than four occasions. A fifth European title was added in 2005.

As Liverpool were running things, Manchester United sat firmly in the shade of their North West rivals until the late 1980s when one Alex Ferguson rode into town, famously vowed to ‘knock Liverpool of their fucking perch’ and duly did so. When United won the inaugural Premier League title in 1993, that took their total number of league wins to 8. A banner was unfurled at Anfield a year later declaring that United should come back when they’ve won 18. Little did they know that baiting would come back to bite them in the arse.

United racked up championship after championship during the 90s and noughties while Liverpool floundered. In 2009, the two clubs went head-to-head in the league but United piped it at the post to make it 18-18. Last season, Ferguson won his 12th league title as a manager and United’s 19th in total. They don’t even make plates big enough for the slices of humble pie being served up. The since honoured ‘Sir’ Alex also won two European cups taking United up to three in total. This isn’t a Liverpool fan on the planet who isn’t crapping themselves at the prospect of United catching them up in this department too.

Needless to say, the rivalry has intensified during this period of United dominance. Hooliganism between the two clubs was rife during the 70s and 80s and even today sections of both set of fans can be found making obscene chants and gestures about the respective tragedies that have befallen the two sides. The number of on-pitch clashes and talking points have been plentiful. The most recent being the racism controversy between United’s Patrice Evra and Liverpool’s Luis Suarez following the two clubs’ last meeting in October. The latter received an 8 game ban after being found guilty of abusing the former and the whole sorry saga has not only dragged the game through the mud but also spat in its face, kicked it in the crotch and dragged it through the mud one more time for good measure - A truly embarrassing situation particularly for Liverpool Football Club and their shocking handling of the whole affair.

Anyway, if you want to read more on that subject then I’ll point you in the direction of EVERYWHERE ON THE INTERNET!!!

Of course, this wasn’t the first major controversy to take place between the two clubs.

A Good Friday clash on April 2nd 1915 saw the two sides square off at Old Trafford in the final game of the season. In a scenario that is almost unthinkable today, United were battling to avoid relegation from the First Division while Liverpool were nothing more than an average mid-table outfit. The home side ran out 2-0 winners to avoid falling through the dreaded trap door at the expense of Tottenham, who ended the season bottom of the table, and Chelsea who finished second bottom.

A team scrapping for their lives beating a team meandering towards an unremarkable final league position of 13th was hardly surprising. However, suspicion arose when Liverpool firstly missed a penalty that would have halved the deficit and then publicly having a go at their own player Fred Pagnam when hit a shot against the United crossbar late on.

When the bookies noticed that they would have to pay out on an unusually large number of bets laid on that exact 2-0 scoreline which was priced at 7/1, they figured something was amiss. Suspicion was aroused further upon the discovery of leaflets circulating with details of the bet. They refused to pay out and contacted the FA who launched an investigation.

As you have probably guessed by now, the game was fixed and the suspicions of skulduggery were proven to be correct as seven players, three from United and four from Liverpool, were found guilty of conspiring to rig the outcome of the match. The legend has it that the players met up in a pub beforehand to come up with the scheme. Just try and imagine such a scene taking place today… Rio Ferdinand would just end up giving the game away by Tweeting it.

Liverpool’s Jackie Sheldon, curiously, a former United player, was said to be the instigator of the fix, drafting in Tom Miller, Bob Pursell and Thomas Fairfoul from his own team and Sandy Turnbull, Arthur Whalley and Enoch West from the opposition to plot his fiendish scheme. Curiously, the man who scored United’s two goals on the day George Anderson refused to take part as did the abovementioned Pagnam who, as you can see, did his best to foil the plot during the game.

In fact, it was Pagnam’s testimony to the FA that helped bring the others to justice. Noble behaviour by a Liverpool player? Who would have thought? Luis Suarez would do well to take note.

All seven men involved were punished with a lifetime ban from the game – there is no evidence to suggest that Liverpool FC wore T-Shirts in support of their cheating players.

Those of you who are clued up with your history will know that 1915 was also the year of the great war. While the idea of fixing football matches is something that would cause us to spew up our Shreddies if it happened today, football understandably wasn’t exactly the most important thing on people’s minds at the time. The league was suspended and the players involved, amoung others, ended up going into battle to fight for our freedom. As a result, in recognition of their service, the bans were overturned - posthumously in the case of Sandy Turnbull – whence they returned. All except United’s Enoch West, who didn’t take his medicine like a man and tried to sue the FA. His case failed and his ban wasn’t overturned until 1945. I’d like to think the authorities cited “for being a whiny bitch” in their decision-making process. It certainly wasn’t to be the last time someone associated with United would be accused of whinging and failing to take responsibility for their actions.

Football, in the modern era at least, with so much money swirling around and so much at stake, has become such a huge all-consuming game that one cannot help to look upon it with a great sense of cynicism. We’ve already seen the Calciopoli scandal in Italy, as well as reports of improper practices in Germany and Turkey in recent years. Only the most naïve fan will truly believe that the English game is whiter than white and that everything is above board. I am in no way speculating that anything dodgy is going on over here, but I'm sure I'm not alone when I say that I wouldn’t be the slightest bit shocked if there was.

The incident described above was one of the earliest instances of match-fixing in the game anywhere and it took place in our own back yard between two teams that would go on to be the biggest and most successful. Not just in the country, but the entire world. Both teams love to remind everybody about their glorious trophy-laden history but remain noticeably quiet about this skeleton making itself at home in their cupboards.

Interestingly, the FA at the time decided that the players were solely responsible for the fix so bizarrely no punishment, relegation, fine or points deduction went the way of the clubs themselves. So, owing to a number of factors and the circumstances at the time, both clubs emerged relatively unscathed from what was otherwise a huge and potentially very damaging scandal.

Chelsea, the club who were relegated as a result of the cheating, were elected back into the restructured top flight after the war along with Arsenal who hadn’t even finished in a Division Two promotion position in the final pre-war campaign. Big four favouritism BEFORE they were even the big four?! Spooky....

Go on, show me your Tweets

North and South - Super Sunday Observations: 22nd January 2012

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 14:03:00 +0000

So 'Super Sunday' presented us with a repeat of the Manchester v North London double header. It was promoted in such a way that suggested the sides from the capital would be seeking 'payback' having been humiliated in the respective reverse fixtures back at the tail end of the summer. Alas, both Arsenal and Spurs failed in their revenge missions as both Manchesters United and City smote their opponents yet again to re-establish Northern dominance over the south.

In the early kick off, table-topping, cash-splashing Manchester City beat upwardly mobile Tottenham Hotspur 3-2 in one of the most rip-roaring matches of the season. Well, second half at least. The Lancet actually recommends that patients who are about to undergo major surgery should watch the first 45 minutes repeatedly as it is officially now the world's most effective anaesthetic.

The game sparked into life when Samir Nasri, a man who was already public enemy number one at both ends of the Seven Sisters Road, riffled home after latching on to a typically delicious David Silva through ball. It just had to be the former Arsenal man, didn't it? Nasri already has four goals to his name in North London derbies but has been nothing short of a disappointment since his controversial move to Eastlands last summer. It was just obvious he would find his 'spark' again against Spurs. I've often, half-joking mused whether this ridiculous sport we all love is actually the world's biggest scam. Is the game fixed or scripted not unlike professional wrestling? This Nasri goal, considering the circumstances, goes some way to reinforcing this admittedly deluded conspiracy theory of mine. The truth is out there...

Joleon Lescott doubled City's lead almost immediately after bundling in from a corner but before the City fans had even finished their daft, vomit-inducing 'Poznan' celebration, their advantage had been sliced in half. Jermaine Defoe made it 2-1 as he capitalised on some woeful defending by the clueless Stefan Savić. The gormless look on the poor Montenegrin's face as the goal went in served as a pertinent reminder that if the City juggernaut is to rumble on, suspended captain Vincent Kompany cannot come back into the side soon enough.

Gareth Bale then evened the the score with a sensational strike that looks more impressive on every viewing. Four goals in under 10 minutes made me wonder if I had stumbled across some sort of televised 5 aside football match such was the rapid frequency of the scoring.

The rise of Tottenham under Harry Redknapp's stewardship has been one of the stories of the season. After decades of near misses, underachievement and general periods of laughable embarrassment, Spurs have finally gone some way to justifying their famed 'Glory, Glory' tag by muscling their way in among the big boys and making themselves right at home. Sir Alex Ferguson recently said that they are playing the best football in the league at present. While this was clearly just a ploy aimed at winding up City, Tottenham's spirited fightback suggested that there was actually very little between Redknapp and Mancini's teams on the day – absences not withstanding, obviously.

In fact, the away side almost deservedly snatched the points. If Jermaine Defore hadn't been born part hobbit and managed to get any decent contact on a 92nd minute Bale cross, Spurs would be waking up today with the unfamiliar but enjoyable feeling of being within touching distance of the Premier League summit. But he didn't and in the cruelest twist of fate, it was City who got the win after Super Mario Balotelli converted a last gasp penalty having been felled by Ledley King with the game in it's dying embers.

Of course, it was extremely premature of the 'experts' to indulge in the absurd hyperbole of a week or so back when all and sundry starting to declare them champions elect and other such over-exaggerated nonsense. Such proclamations with such a long way to go in the season only serve to make people look stupid in the long run. One step at a time and all that. Given the glaring inadequacies of the so-called challengers for those much sought after Champions League spots, third place this season should be the absolute minimum they achieve, the fourth place they were aiming for in August would actually be a disappointment given how impressive they've been thus far this campaign. Beyond that, who knows?

But the biggest talking point of the match at the Etihad was not Defoe's miss, Nasri's goal, nor the Spurs fightback. Yes, not for the first time, Super Mario Balotelli decided to hog all the headlines to himself. Selfish.

Despite only being on the pitch for 25 minutes, the eccentric Italian stamped his authority on the match in more ways than one. While he may have successfully won and converted the decisive last minute penalty that secured his side the points, there are few people outside the blue half of Manchester that believe Balotelli should have even been on the pitch. On any other day, or with any other referee (Oh, Howard Webb...), Mad Mario's attempt to decapitate Scott Parker with the sole of his size 12s would have been greeted with the red card it deserved. It has since been announced that retrospective punishment is to be heading his way but what consolation is that to Spurs? Any ban will not get back the point (possibly more?) they were set to take back down the M1 on Sunday evening.

That said, I risk using that most despised and ignorant of football-isms about things evening themselves out. Many City fans will tell you that Balotelli's escape (in the game at least) is some sort of retribution for the scandalous decision to send off Vincent Kompany for executing the perfect tackle in the FA Cup 3rd round Manchester derby two short weeks ago that resulted in an absurd and unjust four game ban – a tackle not entirely dissimilar to one made by Parker himself in the first half of this match on England colleague Micah Richards. Not that it deserved a red either, mind.

The inconsistencies, contradictions and hypocrisy did not end there. Joleon Lescott was also inexplicably spared a dismissal after a UFC style forearm smash to to the face of Yonues Kaboul. Tottenham manager Harry Redknapp was then quick to condemn the Balotelli footsie-stampy shenanigans post-match. Yes, the same Harry Redknapp who swiftly turned a blind eye when his own player was accused of a similar offence in the past. It was also interesting to see the lack of criticism aimed at Redknapp for publicly calling for a player to be dismissed given all the unnecessary hoo-ha over Roberto Mancini's imaginary card-waving antics in recent weeks. I'm struggling to get my head round how the gesture in the heat of the moment is deemed a 'disgrace' while a calculated and considered press conference is acceptable. The former is trying to influence a referee while the latter completely undermines their authority. Both are as bad as each other.

The biggest head-scratcher over the whole incident of course comes by way of the FA who will rightly throw the book at Balotelli yet completely make fools of themselves in doing so having very recently campaigned fiercely to have Wayne Rooney's violent conduct ban by UEFA for next summer's Euros reduced. Do as I say, not as I do etc.

===

If the first game was the starter, Arsenal v Manchester United was a disappointing main course as both teams were simply resigned to going through the motions in an attempt to keep up with their respective now superior local rivals.

A wretched football match saw United just about eke out a marginally deserved 2-1 victory over their one time most-hated foes. Sir Alex's team took the lead on the stroke of half time through an Antonio Valencia header. Robin van Persie (who else?) equalised for the gunners finishing a flowing move that was a throwback to the long forgotten Arsenal of a decade ago. Contract rebel Danny Wellbeck snatched all three points late on.

The major talking point at the Emirates was what seemed to be what I'm calling a Wenger watershed moment. After a diabolical first half in which Arsenal were devoid of passion pride and anything even resembling the kind of fighting spirit they would do well to learn from their North London rivals earlier in the day, the one time 'invincibles' stepped up a gear and actually took the game to an abject United side following the break. The equaliser came amidst a flurry of missed chances and such was the momentum with the home side, there only looked to be one side capable of winning the game at 1-1 and it wasn't Uinted. That was until the beleaguered manager decided to withdraw his side's best attacking threat in the game, the 18 year old Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain who was putting his more experienced colleagues – hang your head Theo Walcott – to shame. The youngster was replaced by Andrei Arshavin – a player who hasn't had a good game since the days of disco. The often quiet Emirates crowd then found their voice, not to support their team, mind, but to viciously direct a barrage of abuse at Mr. Wenger in the dugout. “You don't know what you're doing” is the last chant one would ever expect to hear from the gooner faithful who are better known for blindly following their manager no matter what he does.

A lifetime ago...

It's no secret that after years of failure, this season has been Arsene Wenger's toughest test for the most successful boss of London's most successful club. For the first time in his tenure, Arsenal look like slipping outside the top four and equally, for the very first time, he is losing the support of the fans who previously wouldn't dare question him. Whereas the grumbles were once consigned to a small minority, it would appear the number of the dissenters is growing at a rapid rate. More worrying, the public disapproval of his captain to the substitution speaks volumes. It's one thing to lose the fans but when results stop going your way and you start to lose the players, things are only going to get worse. Of course, van Persie has moved to reassure fans that he was not challenging his manager but the simple fact is, his unhappiness was clear for all to see.

Time has a funny way of catching up with us. Muhammed Ali, the greatest boxer of all time has Parkinson's. Terry Pratchett, one of the best authors of a generation has Alzheimers. I'm not saying Arsene Wenger has a debilitating disease but I do feel it necessary to use such extreme examples to hammer home my point that nothing lasts for ever. Not even perceived genius. The mask is undoubtedly slipping. The Arsene Wenger of today is not the Arsene Wenger of a decade ago. As he himself was quoted last week, failure to secure a top four finish could well prove to be a disaster. The exact kind of disaster he does not currently appear able to recover from.

Naturally, the substitution itself didn't lose Arsenal the game but as sod's law would dictate, Arshavin was at fault for United's winner meaning Wenger's gamble backfired spectacularly and in some sense justified the criticisms of the fans - telling him he doesn't know what he's doing is perhaps a bit strong though. Someone with Arsene Wenger's record deserves a tad more respect than that. Booing, and vocal criticism, although completely within the rights of those who pay their money and are therefore entitled to express their displeasure, is simply divisive and counterproductive.

As usual, Arsenal fans were quick to wheel out the old injury excuse and lack of recognised full-backs for their defensive problems. However, on this occasion the argument was rendered redundant due to the fact their of their opponents' back five on the day, only Patrice Evra could be considered one of Manchester United's 'first choice' defenders. Add to that the the fact that Phil Jones was stretchered off in the opening exchanges and you would say that the flaws at Arsenal are surely more to do with tactics rather than personnel.

As Arsenal and their troubles were the main focus after the match, United's own problems went unnoticed. The fact they picked up the three points here didn't tell the whole story of their own shortcomings. While they may have been in control during the first half, they were far from convincing. They saw a lot of the ball, yes, but it certainly wasn't a case of them carving the gunners open at will despite the generosity of Johan Djourou who personally allowed Nani the freedom of Islington. A 'better' side would have been home and dry by half time.

In second half, they simply retreated and almost threw the game away. I know it seems fashionable to have a go at Michael Carrick but I genuinely don't see what he does. I would welcome any explanation. Wayne Rooney may as well have stayed on the team bus such as his anonymity while the 'rabbit in the headlights' look has become so synonymous with Johnny Evans that he Northern Ireland international should just patent it and be done with it. Again, a 'better' side than Arsenal would have been able to capitalise on United's dismal second half showing. They will however, be encouraged by the sensible person's choice (bore off, Sky) as Man of the Match Antonio Valencia who scored one and made the other of the two match-winning goals. He and the abovementioned Chamberlain were the only two shining lights in what was, in truth, a poor game.

I seem to find myself saying this year after year but the deficiencies of Sir Alex's team make them look anything but champions yet they still find themselves within spitting distance of their city rivals at the top of the table. Despite the current side's glaring limitations, only a crazy person would dare write them off.

So what conclusions can we draw? Power shifts? It would be difficult to argue against it in North London but perhaps not quite yet in Manchester. However, the results suggested that if fans of THE BESTEST LEAGUE IN THE WORLD (!!!!!!!) were hoping for anything other than a two horse race (yet again), it is looking like they will be sorely disappointed.

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Assualt and Pepe

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 16:28:00 +0000

Last Night Real Madrid hosted Barcelona in El Claszzzzzzzzzz... for the umpteenth time in recent memory. The two stand-out best club sides in world football were going head-to-head for the eighth time since just last spring. Most people are actually of the opinion that these are the only two teams in Spanish football. Their dominance and the regularity of their meetings would make it difficult for even the most staunch La Liga fan to argue. What was once the most anticipated game in the Spanish football calendar has become something of a tiresome chore due the the fact the same old narrative seems to repeat itself over and over again. Real Madrid start brightly, Barca take control, Barca show superiority, Barca win. Wash, rinse, repeat. Of these previous 8 encounters this has been the case on 4 occasions. Three of these matches ended in draws that inevitably suited the Catalans better and just one (admittedly a quite important one) resulted in a Madrid victory. This season, it was all supposed to change. Barca are not quite at the brilliant best while Jose Mourinho's boys from the Bernabau have been on fire and currently find themselves sat on top of La Liga 5 points clear of their great rivals. Yet somehow they are still somehow second best when the two sides come to blows. A maddening situation that has seen the Catalans stroll into Real's back yard and come away with a victory now TWICE already this campaign.

The latest match was the first leg of the Copa Del Rey quarter final. Real Madrid started the brighter and oft criticised Big Game Bottler Cristiano Ronaldo fired them into the lead. At half time Ray Winstone's giant, frightening, disembodied head popped up on my TV and pretty much demanded that I bet on Barca to come back and win the game at an outrageously generous 5/1. I stuck a fiver on it and was duly rewarded when Carlos Puyol and Eric Abidal (Defenders!!!!) turned the tie in the favour of Pep Guardiola's men.

One thing then that always seems to occur in these supposed showpiece games are the acts of gamesmanship and petulance that wouldn't be out of place in primary school playground. The diving, cheating, play-acting, fouling and general cuntitude of pretty much every player on the park lets both sides down. Real and Barca possess the personnel to put on real classic matches actually befitting the moniker attached to their meetings but all too often disgrace themselves by acting like idiots. The typical protagonists in this theatre are Dani Alves, Sergio Ramos, Sergio Busquets and Ricardo Carvalho to name a few. However, on this occasion there was one man decided that the floor was his and his alone as he decided he wanted the title of world's biggest scumbag.

Step forward Képler Laveran Lima Ferreira otherwise more affectionately referred to as Pepe.

The Portugese defender is no stranger to controversy having already once been on the receiving end of a 10 match match ban following what can only be described as an unprovoked assualt on Getafe CF's Javier Casquero.

Good old Pepe has also been red-carded in a previous classio and it would seem that he is incapable of learning his lesson and realise that quite a lot of the time, he isn't being 'hard', he's just behaving like a dick! His latest indiscretion centres around his deliberate stamp on the hand of one Lionel Messi while the majestic Argentine was on the floor following a foul by one of Pepe's other cohorts in the Madrid side.

This followed some of the worst acting you are likely to see this side of a Vin Diesel movie.

All of which makes you wonder whether it is safe to actually allow this man out into society. Pepe strikes me as the wired guy at the supermarket who shouts at the vegetables or the kind of fella who who walks the street naked with his hands covered in his own feces. Not all seems right upstairs.

Football is no stranger to 'hard men' and loveable rouges who, rightly or wrongly, push the boundaries of what one can get away with on the pitch to their very limit. Pepe seems to either ignorant or indifferent to the very concept of boundaries and clearly feels he can get away with murder (Not to give the lunatic any more ideas...) when he goes out there to 'play'. When he behaves like an idiot, he doesn't even consider the idea that there may be consequences nor the fact that at times, he is a danger to his fellow professionals. Act first, think later. It's like when you play with matches as a kid and the idea that you might burn the house down doesn't even enter your head. Then all of a sudden you're standing on the charred remains of what used to be your bedroom...

At the risk of saddling up atop my high horse (I call her Sanctimony...), Pepe acting like this might be understandable if it actually provided any benefit to his team. Conversely, he is nothing more than a detriment to them and the even those who are supposed to be supporting him have started to realise this. One would hope he would take heed but given the fact it keeps on happening, there's no way of ever being sure what is going on within that polished dome.

But then it dawned on me. The bald head, the snarl, the random acts of violence. This is surely a case of like imitating art...

Compare Real Madrid 'star' Pepe...

...with Mortal Kombat character Baraka

-----

Honestly, tell me if you can really spot the difference...

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Chumps League?

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 06:13:00 +0000

Around the early 1990s some smartarse an UEFA decided that Europe's premier cup competition was not quite exciting enough. Well, when I say not exciting, I mean that it wasn't generating enough cash. After nearly 40 years, European football’s holy grail wasn't as marketable as the suits would have liked so sponsorship contracts were negotiated, re-negotiated and negotiated again. The entire competition was 're-branded' and in 1993, what spawned forth was the malevolent, all-consuming and vile abomination we today call The Champions League.

"I will kill you and eat your children"

How was this different to the previous format? Well, rather than the straight-forward two legged knockout cup competition featuring just the league winners from each country that everyone was fairly content with, mini-leagues were introduced to give us a greater number games to consume like hungry, salivating dogs. As the competition has grown, more and more teams are ushered in leading to the quite absurd scenario in modern football where, in some cases, finishing as low as FOURTH in your domestic league is enough to qualify and actually considered something of a success. Qualification for the tournament means more than winning actual silverware – a quite tragic indictment of the modern game. So yes, a team can win the 'Champions' League despite having not won their domestic league the previous year. In fact, a team can compete and of course win the competition having NEVER won the title in their home nation - this hasn't happened yet but give it time... Sounds silly doesn't it? But why do UEFA allow this? Well, A) Because more games means more money obviously and B) Fuck you! That's why.

Ironically, by opening up the competition and attempting to be more inclusive, the Champions League actually becomes more exclusive. With rare exceptions, it's generally the same names competing for the top prize year on year. These teams make more money from the competition simply by being there and of course, the financial gap between the haves and the have-nots when they play in their own league becomes a gaping chasm - that is unless you have a multi-billionaire benefactor/sugar daddy to give you a helping hand but the pros and cons of that can be debated on another blog post another day.

The group stage of the modern day Champions League competition is very rarely something one ought to waste time getting excited over. Two teams qualify from each of the eight groups of four and the top dogs almost always find themselves seeded which inevitably sees their path to the knockout stage rarely troubled. Particularly in England, we have become accustomed to 'our' teams navigating their way through to the last 16 with relative ease.

Not this year however. As we enter the final round of group games, a very real scenario presents itself where the knockout stage will feature just one English side with the other three dropping down into the competition's fatter, uglier, younger sibling the Europa League – the consolation prize/punishment for finishing third in abovementioned groups.

Arsene Wenger and his Arsenal team have secured first place in Group F with a game to spare allowing them to simply enjoy their trip to Olympiacos. The French manager will send out a team consisting of 2 teenagers on work experience, 5 primary school children, 2 teething babies, a single sperm and Tomas Rosicky to face the Greek side while rumour has it the first team have been sent to the nearby resort of Kavos as a reward where Theo Walcott will throw up after doing one too many fish bowls, Gervinho and Thomas Vermaelen will race quad bikes and Aaron Ramsey will finger a 19 year old on the beach.

Meanwhile, things do not appear to be as rosy for Chelsea and the two Manchester clubs who all have major obstacles standing between them and the Utopia of the knockout stages.

The West Londoners take on Valencia at home first where only a win or a goalless draw will be good enough to see them leapfrog the Spanish side and progress to the latter stages. To say The Blues have had a difficult time of it of late would be understating matters to an almost laughable degree. Initially touted as potential champions this season, their current form has many people asking serious questions as to whether they will even finish in those coveted top four positions. It has been an inauspicious start for new manager Andres Villas-Boas. Indifferent league form spilled over into Europe and a 2-1 setback against Leverkusen two weeks back has led to this do or die scenario.

Opponents Valencia currently sit a comfortable third in La Liga behind the powerhouses of Barcelona and Real Madrid and pushed the latter close in their narrow defeat just a couple of weeks back. They also have the free scoring Roberto Soldado in their ranks who is likely to keep Chelsea's worryingly fragile backline very busy. Soldado has already netted an astonishing 14 times in all competitions this season – a feat Fernando Torres might not accomplish in the next 14 months!

I'm always wary of writing off Chelsea. A 3-0 win over Newcastle at the weekend was a reminder of the quality they possess and more importantly, provided a huge confidence boost ahead of this game. In truth, home advantage should see them safely through but having lost against both Arsenal and Liverpool(twice!) at the Bridge in recent months, you couldn't say for certain that a home win is on the cards.

Unfortunately, home advantage isn't something Manchester United can rely on in their vital Group C game against Basel. A draw will be enough for the Reds to go through but the Swiss side will be going all out for the win and it would be daft to take anything for granted in this game especially given the performance they put in when they went to Salford and came away with a 3-3 draw having fought from two goals down to lead right up until Ashley Young’s late equaliser.

The return to form and fitness of Rio Ferdinand and Nemanja Vidic has seen the defensive headaches from the early part of the season cured somewhat so if the task is simply to avoid defeat, you'd expect Sir Alex Ferguson's side to have enough quality to get the job done. But as recent games have shown, United are not playing anything close to their own usual high standard and you could easily argue that they've been fortunate to win so many games so far this season. This fortune hasn't transferred to Europe where teams have been able to capitalise on their mistakes. It might sound crazy but anyone who saw that first match will know that Basel pose a very real threat. Namesakes Fabian and Alexander Frei will be looking to pick up where they left off at Old Trafford.

While the destiny of the two English finalists from 2008 lies in their own hands, the same can not be said for Champions League virgins Manchester City whose rampant run at home has not been replicated abroad. The Citizens latest victims in the league were last weekend who were dispatched with the kind of delicious exhibition football that has had many commentators declaring the cash-rich club to be on par with Barcelona and the like. Just one glace at their European form will tell you such comparisons are somewhat premature. Having surrendered four points to Napoli and losing in Munich, City must now beat the four time winners and 2010 runners up Bayern at the Etihad Stadium and hope the group A whipping boys Villarreal can get anything against the Neapolitans.

Beating Bayern may well prove to be the easy part as the Bavarian side have already won the group and, like Arsenal, will not be placing a great deal of importance of the game. Similarly, Villarreal cannot even make third place and will be far more concerned with arresting their abject domestic form than doing Roberto Mancini any favours. Napoli will be expected to win this game and send City into the forgotten land that is the Europa League.

The likelihood of all three sides failing to progress is slim and I would stake a great deal of money on it. City are on the brink but United and Chelsea, although not in an ideal position, are certainly well placed to join Arsenal in next week's draw for the next round of the competition.

On the flipside, if all three were to finish third in their groups, the tantalising scenario of up to seven English clubs (if Stoke, Fulham,Birmingham and Tottenham were to qualify) in the bloated mess that is the Europa League would actually be highly amusing.

Well, I’d laugh anyway.

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Goal Trafford

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 16:54:00 +0000

Let's have it right. Gary Neville is an dislikeable turd. I mean, none of us can stand Manchester United*, can we? And if any player has epitomised exactly why we all dislike that club, it's G-Nev. Smug, arrogant and annoyingly, incredibly successful. On top of all that, having hung up his boots and gone into the media, Neville has now become the stand out best pundit on Sky television. Besides the fact he isn't an idiot or a hypocrite, he actually provides some kind of insight. When I find myself nodding along agreeing with most of what he says, it just makes me want to commit the act of Seppuku in front of my own crying Mother.

Maybe it was being sat next the infinitely less informed Dwight Yorke that sapped his common sense but Neville's mask slipped this week as he staked his claim for captain of the Olympic hyperboly squad by making the claim that Darren Ambrose's spectacular goal in Crystal Palace's shock 2-1 victory in the Carling Cup quarters was "the best goal scored by an opposition player at Old Trafford IN THIRTY YEARS!"

A pretty bold statement. Judge for yourself...

Ambrose magic?

Shearer?

Batistuta?

Arshavin?

Hasselbaink?

Dossena?

Rocastle's chip?

Wanchope's run?

Tiago?

Raul? (Incredible Redondo assist)

Stan Collymore?

Robben Volley?

Tough call.

Obviously, it would have most likely been this...

Poor Pedro!

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*Fret not, one day I will write positive pro-Man Utd piece that will be so gut-wrenching gushing it will make you want to shoot me - and yourself - in the face.

RIP Gary Speed - 8 September 1969 – 27 November 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 07:59:00 +0000

It was understandably difficult to get excited about football after the breaking news on Sunday morning that Wales manager Gary Speed had been found dead after a suspected suicide at his home in Cheshire.

I was numbed. Speed is one those players that has just always seemed to be etched into the memory of my football watching life. His fellow Welshman Ryan Giggs is probably the only other player that springs to mind when I think of a player with such a prolonged career in the English top flight in my lifetime. Speed may not have had a career awash with trophies and honours but was hands down, one of the Premier League's most consistent performers in his midfield role and a key player in any team he played for. Fans of Leeds, Everton, Newcastle and Bolton would all attest to this. Such was his importance, Speed currently holds the record for most appearances for an outfield player in the league with some 535 games under his belt. A short spell at Sheffield United as player and manager brought the curtain down on fine club career before he was given the opportunity to manage his country.

Death is always a sad thing but made worse when it happens prematurely. 42 is no age for anyone to die and the whole situation is made more perplexing by to the unsavory manner of Speed's passing. The general reaction has been one of bemusement. One can only speculate as to what drives a man to take his own life. Speed had a wife, two children and his career as manager of Wales seemed to be going from strength to strength. It's only natural that people will be asking "why?".

The general feeling from all the tributes is one of shock. The outpouring of emotion within football for a popular and respected friend/colleague would suggest that this fatal tragic act was out of character. As has been pointed out, Speed seemed 'normal' when he appeared the BBC's Football Focus the very same morning of the day he died. Again it would be wrong to speculate about his health and/or his private life and his family ought to be afforded the respect they deserve at this most awful of times.

All too often in the modern game we rue the disconnect between players and fans. As far as we're concerned, these 'greedy' millionaires no longer understand the 'man in the street'. Is this detachment not a two-way problem? When we go to matches, sit in pubs or take to the Internet to launch tirades of abuse, we almost forget that they are human beings with the same feelings, insecurities and problems as you and I. Granted, Speed wasn't the kind of player that courted controversy or even incurred the wrath of vitriolic fans but his death shows he was just as vulnerable as anybody to the trials and tribulations of life. When we work ourselves up into a frenzy and lose our shit over incorrect offsides and disallowed goals or whatever, we'd do well to remember that the game is simply that, a game. A sentiment not lost on the Swansea and Villa fans who saw their respective teams play on through difficult circumstances.

Whatever the reasons behind this tragedy, it has been a sad, sad weekend in British football.

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In Attendance: Serie A - Inter Milan v Cagliari. 19th November 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Fri, 25 Nov 2011 20:18:00 +0000

As I have mentioned before, when I were a wee lad growing up, I, like many others of my generation, was a huge fan of Serie A on Channel 4 back in the 1990s. Terrestrial TV coverage of what was perceived to be the best league in the world at the world was the kind of footballing luxury the modern day armchair fan would come to look on with the greatest sense of nostalgia – especially given the small fortune one needs to shell out nowadays for the 'privilege' of watching Stoke City and the like.

During this Serie A golden era, Juventus and AC Milan were the two dominant forces – sharing eight titles between 1992 and 1999. However, this is not to say that every campaign was a predicable two team procession. Both sides needed to be on their toes to fend off the strong challenge coming from the likes of Parma, Udinese, Sampdoria and Fiorentina year on year.

You could almost always rely on the Italian league throwing up something of a competitive title race. The strength of the division wasn't merely restricted to the big two. For example, following their Scudetto success in 1996, AC Milan finished a lowly 11th position 12 months later. Similarly, Juventus ended the 1998/99 campaign in 6th place despite successive championships in 1997 and 1998 and THREE Champions League finals (96, 97, 98). The Roman clubs broke up the cartel at the turn of the century as, firstly, Lazio (2000) and then Roma (2001) were crowned champions of Italy.

The most notable absence on the illustrious list of league winners was AC Milan's city rivals. While the Rossoneri would regularly dine at the top table both domestically and abroad, Internazionale were left raiding the bins behind motorway service stations for whatever scraps that had been thrown away. It is safe to describe the end of the 20th century as a period of underachievement for the Nerazzurri. A title win in 1989 was followed by a lean decade that yielded just three measly Uefa Cup successes in 1991, 1994 and 1998 – also, quite incredibly, losing the 1997 final to Schalke on penalties. For most, that haul wouldn't look bad but for one of Italy's big names, it was a poor return, particularly given the vast spending of chairman Massimo Moratti following his acquisition of the club in 1995. The oil tycoon was certainly not afraid to splash the cash in his attempts to match the successes of City rivals AC. This period saw some stellar names turn out in the famous Black and Blue including Ivan Zamorano, Diego Simeone, Gianluca Pagliuca, Alvaro Recoba, Youri Djourkaeff, our very own Paul Ince. Aron Winter, Paulo Sousa, Roberto Carlos and of course, the jewel in the crown, Ronaldo.

The noughties saw the likes of Christian Vieri, Clarence Seedorf and Fabio Canovarro sign up yet success still very much eluded Inter. Moratti would also go through managers quicker than most men go through underwear with some 12 men burning their arses in the San Siro hotseat between 1995 and 2003. Roberto Mancini was then handed the reigns and it all suddenly went right as he oversaw the clubs most successful period since the 1960s, initially winning back to back Italian Cups in 04 and 05 before setting his sights on the big prize.

However, Inter's subsequent glory, and Italian football as a whole during this period, is punctuated by a huge asterisk. In 2006, the first of what was to be Mancini's three successive Scudetti was only awarded due to the fact the actual champions Juventus were involved in the infamous Calciopoli match fixing scandal which saw them stripped of the title and relegated to Serie B. City rivals Milan were also implicated, so too Fiorentina, Lazio and Reggina. Inter themselves, as well as others, were investigated but exonerated.

What followed was a period of dominance for il Nerazzurri as they steamrolled pretty much all before them like some sort of black and blue erm... steamroller. Mancini's hat trick of titles didn't save him from trigger happy Moratti however, as he was dispatched in favour of a certain Jose Mourinho. In just two years, the Special One won consecutive league titles, the second in 2010 coming as part of an unprecedented treble including the Copa Italia and of course, the Champions League – a trophy they hadn't won since 1965.

As the charismatic Portuguese completed his fairytale ending with the club and rode off into the sunset, the mediocrity of the 90s returned with a bang as he was succeeded by long time adversary Rafa Benitez. In what seemed like an Italian revisioning of The Damned United, Benitez proved to be a disaster. The champs were now very much chumps and Rafa was shown the door before the Christmas decorations had even been put up at the team found themselves 13 points off the lead.

In one of the more strange football appointments, AC Milan legend Leonardo was given the job and managed to steer the club to a second place finish behind his former club and another Copa Italia win last season. However, a dismal attempt to defend the European Cup saw the club finish second in their group to Gareth Bale and a take a shoeing from their apparent European nemesis Schalke in the quarter finals. Leonardo thought 'sod this' and headed for Paris.

Former Genoa manager Gian Piero Gasperini was entrusted with the task of bringing back the good times to Inter but his frightfully overambitious 3-4-3 formation lasted a mere 5 games at the start of this season (losing four!) before he was given the boot. Former Chelsea boss Claudio Renieri has since been appointed.

===

Each year, a group of us celebrate a mate's birthday by traveling to some city in Europe to sample the local cuisine, sample the local beer, sample some more beer and then taking in a local football match. Having previously embarked on trips to the Alianz in Munich to watch Bayern and the Bernabeu to see Real Madrid, we decided this year to head to Milan. This particular weekend saw Inter take on Cagliari so that would be what we would be watching.

I'd previously only been to Italy once before way back at the tender and testosterone filled age of 15. A football tour in Rimini when my team-mates and myself would exaggerate our prowess as players in order to convince women to share intimate times with us. Naturally, this was largely unsuccessful but we did manage to win our matches on the pitch. Albeit friendlies against teams younger than us but a win is a win as they say. I also decided to purchase a football shirt. As weird coincidences would have it, the only one that remained in the shop I went to was that of Inter Milan so I had to have it (notwithstanding my supposed allegiances to Parma). Who would have known that on my very next visit to the country, I would be to watching them in the flesh? Spooky, eh?

We arrived at the very impressive and very imposing 80,000 seater Stadio Giuseppe Meazza (Otherwise known as the San Siro) early enough to buy cheap merchandise and grab a pre-match beer. The San Siro is a large arena and as such, the area surrounding the ground is quite vast allowing for the swathes of fans if ever a match is approaching anything near a sell out. Given that Inter were languishing in 17th place and Cagliari only slightly better in 10th and the start of play, this was hardly like to be the case this time around. Some sources online have the total attendance at 56,000 but from where we were sat, you couldn't convince me that the stadium was even half full.

If the club's poor form was keeping fans away, the match itself did very little to suggest they will be coming back in their droves. Admittedly, missing from the starting line up were big names such as Lucio, Maicon, Diego Forlan and Wesley Sneijder who pulled up with injury in the warm up. Diego Milito was on the bench.

As the home side started sluggishly and failed to impose themselves with any great conviction, it became almost inconceivable to think of them as Champions of Europe a mere 18 months ago. The first half was an uneventful snoozefest with the noticeable exception of Dejan Stankovic living up to his name by having something of a stinker. The Serbian midfielder seemed to be in an amusing competition with himself to see how often he could give the ball away.

Up top, new golden boy Giampaolo Pazzini struggled but this was in part due to inadequate service and the selfishness of Mauro Zarate who may or may not have been fitted with those blinders that racehorses often wear as he seemed totally incapable of ever spotting or trying to pass to better placed team mates. Apparently, Zarate has an assist bonus written into his contract to encourage him to be more selfless. On the evidence of the opening 45 minutes, he may have forgotten about the it.

The evergreen Javier Zanetti, a permanent fixture in the Inter side since those days in the 1990s and a more than loyal servant of well over 500 games and 16 trophies, was arguably the best player on the pitch in the first half. The Argentine veteran covered the entire left hand side of the pitch with the kind of ease that shouldn't be afforded to a 38 year old in the twilight of his career.

Pazzini had and long range effort tipped onto the crossbar by Cagliari goalkeeper Michael Agazzi and he repeated the trick from a Zarate free kick. Aside from this, there was very, very little to shout about for either side as they went in goalless at the break.

In typically classy Italian fashion, espressos are sold at half time in the San Siro. I was tempted to buy at least three to try and keep me awake after the dreariness I had been forced to endure.

One of our group remarked at half time how big the pitch looked. This was the illusion because the game was being played and snail's pace and both sides seemed to be reluctant to press the opposition a great deal. As a result, the players often found themselves with a lot of time on the ball but incapable of doing anything useful with it. Inter dominated possession but more often than not this would manifest itself in simply playing passes between the back four and the midfield.

Zarate was thankfully taken off and replaced summer signing Ricky Alverez. 10 minutes into the second half, an Alvarex free kick from the left was scrappily scrambled home by Ita-zilian midfielder Thiago Motta. Even from the other end of the stadium, there was more than a slight suspicion that Motta may have been offside. A scrappy, dubious goal seemed quite fitting for the occasion though.

Six minutes later, it was 2-0 as Alvarez on the right wing got the better of the left back before playing a 1-2 with Cambiasso then switching the ball to Coutinho who cut inside and hit a low right footed drive into the bottom corner beating Agazzi at his near post.

After that little spell of excitement, Inter saw out the rest of the match with little trouble. Cagliari pulled one back in the last minute through sub Larrivey but the damage was done and the game ended 2-1. Much to the relief of everyone unfortunate enough to watch it.

szólj hozzá: INT

Italian Football has always had a reputation for being somewhat slow and over-cautious so the tempo of the game was no surprise to me but what was really unusual was the lack of quality. Alvarez looked fairly lively when introduced but still looks raw. Granted, Inter were missing some key players and probably had one eye on, what looked like at the time, a key Champions League encounter in the week but it was strange that there was nobody in the heart of the team to truly dictate the play for them. The end result being they very much looked like a team floundering around the lower half of the table. The Tinkerman has a lot of work to do. All in all, I will unashamedly declare this to be one of the worst football matches I've ever seen in the flesh.

Once the top league on the continent, now the Italian league sits comfortably behind England, Spain and even Germany. A point highlighted by the fact that the poor performances of Italian sides in Europe in recent years has seen them lose their fourth Champions League spot to the Germans. Serie A has quite clearly suffered in the wake of the Calciopoli mess. The quality of the league has certainly diminished in recent years and unfortunately for Inter, their superiority has been both a symptom and a cause of it. Top players are still joining Italian clubs but they are hardly flocking over in the kind of numbers we used to see in the 1990s. A recent episode of Sky's Sunday Supplement programme saw so-called respected journalists arrogantly dismiss Serie A as something of an irrelevance.

All that said, anyone who has been keeping track with the Italian league this season (ESPN televise two games each weekend as well as highlights during the week) will know that the league is going some way towards regaining it's competitive edge. Inter's struggles appear to be an exception rather than the rule currently. As I write this, just a single point separates a resurgent Juventus, Lazio, champions AC and Udinese at the top of the table. Does this mean the league is improving? Maybe, maybe not, but if we look at the performances of their clubs in the Champions League so far this season, one would be hard pressed to argue against the abilty of their representatives this season. Having beaten Manchester City this week, Napoli look well-placed to advance to the last 16 ahead of the cash-rich citizens. AC Milan were unlucky to lose to Barcelona but still progress from their group. Even lacklustre Inter have qualified in as group winners with a game to spare.

Ultimately, I don't think there are many out there who wouldn't want to see a strong Italian championship once again. One can only hope Serie A can successfully overcome their problems and re-establish itself as league we all look upon in awe once more.

Ugly-ass trophy though

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Arsing about: Gunners Give Chelsea the Blues - Weekend Observations: 29th-30th October 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 23:40:00 +0000

There was a time when the teams at the Premier League summit would go into matches against one another exercising caution and contesting dull, cagey low scoring encounters that did nothing to back up the claim that the English top flight is "The Best League in the World". However, all that seems to have changed this season. Who would have thought at just a quarter of the way through the campaign we would have seen the kind of jaw-dropping, pinch yourself, lay off the LSD type of scorelines from the head-to-heads between the top clubs? Manchester City have demolished crosstown rivals and current champions United. They also went to White Hart Lane and tore Champions League hopefuls Tottenham a new one. Spurs themselves responded to that beating by giving Liverpool something of a pasting.

Then there's Arsenal. A truly disastrous start to the season was compounded with a miserable afternoon at Old Trafford. The astounding 8-2 set back against Manchester United was less a football match but more a kind of snuff film. Going into this weekend's game against Chelsea at Stamford Bridge, not many people would have given them a prayer. I'm willing to bet that, to a man, every single Arsenal supporter on the planet would have taken a draw if offered on Friday evening. But alas, this unpredictable mistress that we call football pulls another surprise from of her bag of tricks in the form of the Gunners' astonishing 5-3 victory.

One of the many criticisms levelled at Arsenal over the weeks (years?) concerns a supposed lack of leadership. If Robin van Persie's umpteenth barnstorming performance and subsequent hat-trick are not considered a form of leadership then you're going to have to sit me down in a classroom and have a qualified teacher tell me what is. He may not be the 'shouter' that we are told every team worth their salt requires but by God does he lead by example. His latest treble made it 28 goals in 27 league matches this calendar year. If other players in the Arsenal team could find a level of consistency anywhere near that, then the team would be in far better shape that it currently finds itself.

One player in particular whose general performances are about as random as a bag of licorice allsorts is Theo Walcott. Having had something of a hit and miss season (career?), young Theo reserved his best showing for Saturday when he gave Ashley Cole more problems than a hairdresser with a kiss and tell story. His contribution to the scoresheet was something special too.

Having gone behind twice and then allowing Chelsea to equalise at 3-3, It was a surprising turn up for the books to see the Arsenal team stand firm and show rare but tremendous character to win the match so emphatically. Especially given the frequency of humiliating collapses that have occurred far, far too often in recent years. The win puts them just 3 points behind their vanquished opponents and, whisper it, back on course to challenge for a top four finish.

Since that fateful day in Manchester, talk of the club's supposed demise have filled more column inches in the Sports media than anything else. The number of back page leads declaring a crisis at the Emirates would probably exceed the number of journalists employed to write them.

What has gone unnoticed it would seem is the fact that since a befuddling 4-3 setback at Blackburn, the supposedly beleaguered Arsene Wenger has now led his team to 8 wins in 9 games in three competitions. If that's a crisis, 95% of football teams must be in complete meltdown.

More so than most teams, discussion of Arsenal falls foul of that lazy way of observing football whereby if something isn't fantastic then by default it must be complete shit. No other club is spoken of in such black and white terms and we're all guilty of it. The football is always described as 'wonderful' even when it isn't. The youth policy is always described as a success even when things go a bit Jérémie Aliadière. On the flip side, failure to win a trophy for a few years apparently means that the whole club needs rebuilding from the top down. People also draw the conclusion that selling player X automatically means the club is in freefall. Arsene Wenger is either a genius or a clown. They MUST buy or they MUST not. There is very rarely middle ground. Nobody in Islington will pretend that all is rosy in the Arsenal garden but the apocalyptic headlines that have been written about the club this season have bordered on absurd. The team have definitely started to show signs of turning that mythical corner.

Admittedly, the recent good run hadn't exactly seen them take on the cream of world football and they have been blessed with a number of home matches so when people spoke of a trip to Stamford Bridge being a 'true test' of any supposed Arsenal revival, the point was most certainly a valid one especially given that their last league win on the road was waaaaaay back against relegated Blackpool in the spring.

Not only did they pass the test, but they pretty much received top marks. It's not quite time to proclaim the second coming of the Invincibles but it might make one two people think twice before writing eulogies for the North Londoners.

Of course, one thing that still seems inescapable are the prevalent frailties in defence. Arsenal's makeshift backline was typically far from secure. Andre Santos, Per Mertesaker and Johan Djourou had a torrid time of it on Saturday lunchtime and were culpable for at least two of the three goals conceded and made a number of other laughable mistakes throughout.

However, if this is an accusation you can lay at the door of the Arsenal team, what then does one say about Chelsea? The Blues conceded five at home. FIVE! An unthinkable scenario in recent years. Since their Abramovich-funded ascension up the table, one thing you could always say about Chelsea was that they were built on a solid defensive base. All that seems to have gone straight out of the window because right now, they look a complete mess. In Jose Mourinho's first year in charge, they conceded a miserly 15 Premier League goals all season. They've conceded that many in just 10 games this year. Last week, our learned friends in the football media pointed the collective finger at the erratic David Luiz. This week the Brazilian wasn't in the side which would suggest that there is something wrong with new manager Andre Villas-Boas' tactical approach which, while very exciting going forward, evidently leaves them far too vulnerable at the back. The personnel hasn't changed but it's obvious they are playing a far more open game than they are used to.

If they are to make waves domestically and challenge for the ever-elusive Champions League crown in Europe, something needs to be done to shore things up because the ease at which Arsenal were able to slice them open time and time again, is something that will encourage any half decent side Chelsea will face between now and the end of the season.

All that said, I'm sure I speak for most people when I say that John Terry falling on his face for Arsenal's all important fourth goal filled me with great joy and wonderful, wonderful feelings of schadenfreude. Karma is a bitch, isn't it, John?

Away from West London, it was a pretty unremarkable weekend in the Premier League (I write this before the inevitable 6-6 draw between Stoke and Newcastle on Monday night...). Spurs and Liverpool both won as expected against QPR and West Brom respectively. Gareth Bale appeared to have made Sky's Super Sunday panel simultaneously climax as he scored an impressive brace for the former in comfortable 3-1 win that taught us nothing. Meanwhile, my love-hate relationship with the odious and despicable Luis Suarez continued as he put in another scintillating showing in the Scouse side's 2-0 win at the Hawthorns.

Special shouts to Norwich and Swansea who continue to perform above expectations. Blackburn's draw at Carrow Road was the only point picked up by either them, Bolton or Wigan in the bottom three. Things could and should have been better for Rovers who were cruising at 3-1 and were very unfortunate to have a last minute penalty awarded against them as the match ended 3-3. It almost makes you feel sorry for Steve Kean... almost!

People looking for a 'reaction' from Manchester United after their pummelling last weekend may well have been left disappointed after the reds laboured to a Javier Hernandez inspired 1-0 win over Everton. People spoke before the game as though Sir Fergie's team would show up at Goodison Park and tear the Toffees to shreds. Or more fittingly, chew them up and spit them. That was never going to realistically happen but more important than achieving a 'big' win was just getting any sort of win at all. As an added bonus, United kept a clean sheet a huge and significant achievement given the many question marks over their defence.

Keeping pace at the top of the table, City beat Wolves fairly comfortably for the second time in a week without really breaking a sweat and despite being reduced to ten men. If you're wondering whether that is down to how good City are or how much Wolves are struggling at present, I can confidently and lazily state that it's both.

Results

Saturday
Chelsea 3-5 Arsenal
Everton 0-1 Manchester United
Manchester City 3-1 Wolves
Norwich 3-3 Blackburn
Sunderland 2-2 Aston Villa
Swansea 3-1 Bolton
Wigan 0-2 Fulham
West Brom 0-2 Liverpool

Sunday
Tottenham 3-1 QPR

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Too Sixy for his shirt - Super Mario's Fire Power downs United: Weekend Observations - 22nd-23rd October 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 16:24:00 +0000

Far be it from me to make almost ludicrous and churlish comparisons between football and genuinely serious world events but isn't it peculiar that for the second time in less than a week a long standing dominant, repressive regime has been toppled and a perceived benevolent dictator toppled and humiliated in his own back yard as a new ruling force comes into power? For Libya, see Manchester. For Colonel Muammar Gaddafi, see Sir Alex Ferguson. For the NTC, see Manchester City. As Libyan rebels took control of pro-Gaddafi stronghold Sirte this past Thursday, the Blues similarly marched into the impregnable fortress that is Old Trafford, where the home side had won 24 of their previous 25 matches, and came away with an emphatic 6-1 victory over the champions that probably had Fergie wishing he was hiding in a drainage pipe on the outskirts of Salford.

The United manager proclaimed afterward that it had been his worst day in football and you would be hard pressed to argue. The result was the reds' biggest defeat on home soil since 1955 and the first time United had conceded six goals at home since before the second world war (1930). More stats you ask? City's biggest away derby win in 85 years, first time City have scored 6 in a derby since 1926 and the scoreline also equals the biggest margin in Manchester derby win. When I was younger I saw a rampant Man Utd side destroy City 5-0 at Old Trafford. Never in a million years did I ever think I would see that reversed.

The massacre began with a goal from headline magnet Super Mario Balotelli who was in the news less than 24 hours earlier thanks to his premature Guy Fawkes celebrations going somewhat awry. After opening the score with a deft finish following great work by James Milner, mad Mario nonchalantly lifted his top to reveal a t-shirt emblazoned with the now famous question “WHY ALWAYS ME?”. Whether there is an answer that doesn't require the services of an entire team of mental health professionals, I cannot say for sure but I think I speak for most people when I say, I hope it continues to be 'always you', Mario.

The Italian grabbed a second after the break before Sergio Aguero, David Silva and two from substitute Edin Dzeko all made sure that the trip back to Surrey for the Old Trafford faithful would be a long and painful one. Darren Fletcher arguably scored the goal of the game by way of a response but it proved to be totally inconsequential.

The blues looked magical at times with the unplayable David Silva pulling the kind of tricks that would make Derren Brown look like Tommy Cooper. The little Spaniard put in one of the all time great Premier League performances and for my money, was the indisputable man of the match in team that had so many others playing so fantastically well. Micah Richards played like a man possessed both defending against Ashley Young and getting forward to contribute in attacks. James Milner was dominant in the midfield while Vincent Kompany put in a typically assured performance at the back. Even Joleyon Lescott looked like a competent defender for the most part.

It was always inevitable given their resources, that when this team got it together they would prove the toughest of nuts to crack but few envisioned that they could pull out a performance as jaw-dropping as this this against their nearest and dearest. The win leaves the expensively assembled cash rich Citizens now five points clear at the top of the table. After a result like this, it is difficult to see how anyone else is going to be able to keep pace with a squad so strong in every department as well as in reserve. Just think, the likes of Nigel de Jong and Samir Nasri weren't even needed at Old Trafford. That said, we all know that trophies aren't handed out in October so it would be tantamount to stupidity to declare them as champions elect at this stage.

Similarly, you'd be a fool of gargantuan proportions to write off their vanquished opponents. Anyone with even a passing interest in football knows that you dismiss United at your peril. As supporters of other teams, it is our right, nay, our DUTY to enjoy their humiliation, rub it in their faces as much as is humanly possible, and ridicule them until our throats are hoarse because deep down, we all know that we don't get the opportunity all that often. Let us not forget that off the back of previous thumpings, Sir Alex's teams have rallied and come back strong. 5-0 defeats in 1996 and 1999 by Newcastle and Chelsea respectively were followed by title wins in the same season as was the 4-1 setback against Liverpool in 2009. The Red Devils' powers of recovery would put Wolverine to shame.

However, it is all too simplistic to use these previous examples to suggest that things will be the same this time around. Firstly, as stated, the strength of City team is like no other and would require a Lindsey Lohan style self-destruction to balls things up this season. Secondly, and most importantly, you have to seriously question how good this United side actually is. In the end, six was actually generous on a United defence that continues to look about as secure as James Cordon's belt buckle. The reds have conceded an average of 20 shots to the opposition per game at home in just five outings this season. To put that into perspective, the bottom three Blackburn (15), Wigan (16) and Bolton (17) have all allowed visiting teams less shots per game on average (Stats courtesy of www.whoscored.com). The fact that City enjoyed so much freedom in the attacking third will be no surprise to anyone who saw United get away with it against Cheslea and Norwich where the profligacy of the opposition did as much to contribute to victories as anything the home side did.

Constant changes in personal at the back haven't helped one bit but the questionable form of the players that have been called upon is a massive worry. The less said about Rio Ferdinand's current state, the better. Against City, one could argue that the scoreline may not have been so bad had Johnny Evans not been dismissed at 1-0 but let's be honest, Evans only has himself and his glaring limitations as a defender to blame for his red card.

Evan at that stage, you would expect a team of United's stature to show something in the way of caution and damage limitation against such a potent attack. Mind you, without any protection from an increasingly powerpuff midfield, the defence is always going to be in trouble. The likes of Fletcher, Carrick, Anderson, Gibson etc are simply not up to the standard of a top class club. Looking at the midfield's of Barca, Madrid, Chelsea and of course City, United falls well, well short and must improve drastically in this area if they want to continue to consider themselves in this upper echelon of football teams.

With great reluctance, I've long since extolled the virtues of Manchester United and unashamedly reeled off clichés about their ability to 'dig deep', having a will to win, not knowing when they are beat and possessing a winning mentality that all of Sheik Mansour's billions wouldn't be able to buy. However, none of this was evident against City as they imploded in such a horrific fashion it could have reduced small children to tears. In a local derby too, that is just not acceptable.

We all expect United to 'bounce back' but let's not take it as given this time around.

Also on Sunday, another derby took place down in my working locale of West London as Chelsea went to QPR for the first time in the Premier League in some 15 years. To the surprise of pretty much everybody, the Superhoops won 1-0 but the scoreline failed to tell the story of another eventful, if poor, match. The only goal was scored when the increasingly erratic David Luiz inexplicably fouled Heidar Helguson in the box before the Icelandic dusted himself down to convert the resulting penalty. The end of the scoring, but far from the end of the incident as Chelsea had Jose Bosingwa and Didier Drogba sent off before half time and had to play the entire second 45 with just nine men. I can't be sure of another occasion when a result has ever reflected so badly on the winning team. QPR, despite a two man advantage were abject and created very little. Neil Warnock's team seemed to want to play on the counter attack but a general lack of quality throughout the team meant every attack broke down. To their credit, Chelsea were by far the better side for the remainder of the match. They dominated possession, carved out a number of chances and most certainly deserved something for their troubles including a nailed on penalty that ought to have been awarded when Frank Lampard was fouled by Fitz Hall.

After the game, Andres Villas-Boas had a massive whinge about the referee Chris Foy who for once, actually had a decent game bar the Lampard penalty appeal. There can be no complaints about either dismissal. Bosingwa prevented a clear goal scoring opportunity and Drogba's tackle was two-footed and dangerous. End of. However, it does say a great deal about the standard of Foy's usual refereeing that only getting ONE decision wrong is reason for praise.
Ultimately, the result is a huge upset but one that almost goes under the radar thanks to the events in Manchester.

Another talking point from the match was England Captain John Terry apparently being caught on camera racially abusing Anton Ferdinand. The England Captain supposedly shouted that Ferdinand is a “fucking black cunt”. If the England Captain did say this, then I'm sure I'm not the wouldn't be surprised. We all know exactly what kind of person the England Captain is. Some typically blinkered Chelsea fans who fail to realise they worship a complete scumbag, have tried to suggest the England Captain was in fact 'only' calling the referee a “fucking BLIND cunt” as if that is acceptable. Even if this was the case, it's good to see the Captain of England in full support of the FA's RESPECT campaign.

However, having seen the video myself, I have to say that nothing is conclusive although my actual first thought was that he was in fact saying “fucking PIKEY cunt” to Paddy Kenny after a clash between the two. Still pretty offensive.

Terry himself has said it was a misunderstanding but he's hardly likely to say anything else, is he?

I would provide a link to draw your own conclusions but it of course the damning evidence can no longer be found. Presumably after the Premier League Stasi had it removed.

Elsewhere in London, Arsenal started to look something like their old selves beating Stoke 3-1 and playing with a kind of swagger that hasn't been seen at the Emirates for quite some time. That said, it was against a team that seems allergic to keeping possession. The frightfully prolific Robin van Persie, who was rested from the starting line up, came off the bench and scored the two decisive goals. Gervinho, who had his best game since signing in the summer, set up both the Dutchman's strikes after himself scoring the first. Peter Crouch had scrambled in an equaliser but it proved irrelevant. Whether the gunners are 'back' remains to be seen but they seem to be turning something of a corner following an absolutely wretched start to the campaign. The big test comes next weekend at Stamford Bridge but 5 wins in their last 6 should put them in good stead going into that encounter.

North London rivals Tottenham predictably beat Blackburn at Ewood Park (amid more protests against the hapless Steve Kean) with their own Dutch hero Rafael van Der Vaart grabbing a brace and keeping Spurs well on course to grab that much sought after last Champions League place. That said, it would be thoroughly disrespectful to a still-unbeaten Newcastle who beat Wigan to consolidate fourth spot on Saturday.

Other fourth place hopefuls Liverpool huffed and puffed but could not get the better of the Canaries of Norwich in Saturday evening's 1-1 draw at Anfield. Having dominated the game pretty much from start to finish, the final result was a travesty but quite simply, if you don't put away presentable chances then you don't win football matches. Grant Holt's equaliser in front of the Kop may not have been deserved but it was suitable punishment for the home side's comical wastefulness. I'm sure I'm not the only person in the country who laughed heartily as £35m uber-donkey Andy Carroll sent his stoppage time header to win the game wide of the target. Luis Suarez, for all his quality, must be disappointed with his conversion rate as he certainly doesn't score as many goals as his ability deserves. 'King' Kenny, without irony it would seem, made a point of discussing the need for protection for his diving cheat of a striker but would be better served getting the Uruguayan to spend a few more hours at Melwood practising his finishing.

Merseyside rivals Everton finally had something to smile about after beating Fulham 3-1 in a match that will be remembered a great Fulham goal and a great Fulham miss. Bryan Ruiz opened his his account for the Whites with a delicious chip that will go some way to be bettered this season and left the home fans in raptures. Their joy sadly turned to despair as Bobby Zamora missed a last minute chance to win the game by smashing the ball into the Thames when it would have been easier to score. Everton immediately went up the other end to score not one, but two goals to rub salt into the Fulham wounds. The worst thing about this is the fact that people STILL believe that Zamora should play for England.

Finally, the furious West Midlands derby between Aston Villa and West Brom was not going to pass without incident. For the record, Chris Herd's sending off was a joke. The fact that Chris Brunt took one of the worst penalties ever seen was a measure of justice. That said, Alan Hutton should have walked for a scandalous tackle on Shane Long that could have easily crippled the Albion man. It baffles me how stupid football people are when they think they can justify dangerous play by saying things like 'he played the ball'. Hutton's disgusting tackle is proof as if any is needed that winning the ball does not mean that a tackle isn't reckless. A foul isn't negated by winning the ball and I wish people like Alex McLiseh among others, could actually understand that.

Results

Saturday
Aston Villa 1-2 West Brom
Bolton 0-2 Sunderland
Liverpool 1-1 Norwich
Newcastle 1-0 Wigan
Wolves 2-2 Swansea

Sunday
Arsenal 3-1 Stoke
Blackburn 1-2 Tottenham
Fulham 1-3 Everton
Man Utd 1-6 (six) Man City
QPR 1-0 Chelsea

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Derby Daze - Weekend Observations 1st-2nd October 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 23:03:00 +0000

The major talking point of the Premier League this weekend came in the early kick off on Saturday and the so-called 'Friendly' Merseyside derby between the Blues of Everton and the reds of Liverpool at Goodison Park. These games are often quite close but on the occasion the game was over as context when referee Martin Atkinson chose to dismiss Everton's Jack Rodwell for having the temerity to execute the perfect slide tackle during the first half. Of course the pathetic reaction of Luis Suarez didn't help the Everton player but you didn't even need two working eyes to see that his ball winning slide was clean. Atkinson was right on top of it too so you wonder how he came to the baffling conclusion that Rodwell had to walk. Refereeing incompetence at it's finest. After his whinging about officials in weeks gone by, 'King' Kenny's silence after this terrible decision spoke volumes.

A word on Suarez. I feel so conflicted when I watch him. On one hand, A glorious footballer that we are privileged to have gracing our league - and so he proved with yet another well taken goal in this game - but on the other, a filthy, disgusting cheat. The whole world saw the diving and feigning injury for both Rodwell's red card and a missed Dirk Kuyt penalty later in the half. The fact we all saw it (aside from a minority of idiotic Liverpool fans inexplicably defending their man) and generally agree that his behaviour was not acceptable should be all the evidence needed for the authorities to start handing out retrospective punishments for this type of thing.

As I said, with a beleaguered Everton a man down, Liverpool went on to win 2-0. Most humiliating for the Toffees was the fact they allowed even Andy Carroll to score despite playing like a lame horse for the most part. The reds were able to secure their second away win of the season. Curiously enough, the victory was only attained after the opposition had been reduced to 10 men – exactly the same circumstances as their only other win on the road at Arsenal. The win keeps them 5th in the table.

The only other talking point in the game was the moronic Everton fans who felt throwing objects at Liverpool was acceptable. If this had taken place in Europe, we'd all be screaming blue murder (no pun intended). The club has since said they would take 'firm action' against any guilty party and so they should. If you can't enjoy football without being able to control your emotions then you certainly shouldn't be able to allowed to watch the sport around other people.

More fan shame in the other big derby of the weekend at White Hart Lane where fan chants have seemingly taken up more column inches than the football. Some Arsenal fans were quite vocal in their feelings towards their former striker Emmaual Adebayor who now wears the white of arch rivals Tottenham. I'm all for a bit of 'banter' at football but I think singing about how you wish somebody was shot and killed in a tragic incident that actually saw innocent people lose their lives, then, regardless of who you support, you are a fucking idiot. Although, the condemnation from 'Arry was a bit precious given the fact Spurs fans were themselves guilty of giving the Togo international years of abuse before he became one of their own. I guess selective hearing meant that he didn't hear the home fans calling the Arsenal manager a 'pedophile' (and not for the first time either). Let's also not forget the fact that the wheeler dealer himself previously condemned the Tottenham faithful for their very own 'filthy' abuse aimed at a certain Sol Campbell some years back.

Both clubs have made a joint statement promising to root out any culprits and ban them for life. A noble sentiment but I seriously doubt it can be enforced with such large numbers involved. Games behind closed doors is the only solution in my most humble of opinions. Not ideal I admit but having the same tedious conversations whenever people chant about Hilsborough, Munich and the like is beginning to grate. The idiots only ever learn if you take away their ability to go to games. Of course, it is a completely unworkable idea. You would have to be very naive to believe that any club will ever accept this a solution due to the masses of revenue they will lose. Given that we are all aware that football as a whole cares more about making money than stamping out these problems then you have to wonder why any of us waste our breath even talking about it.

Anyway... the match itself saw Tottenham secure only a second home league win against Arsenal since 1999. The score that day was 2-1, as it was in 2010 and Spurs won by the same scoreline yet again on this occasion as goals from Rafael van der Vaart and Kyle Walker gave Spurs a fourth successive league win and condemned Arsenal to fourth defeat in just seven games this season.

The result came a day after the Arsene Wenger celebrated the 15th years in charge of the gunners. At no point during that decade and half could one ever really doubt the at times embarrassing superiority Arsenal had over Spurs. Wenger has faced no less that eight different Tottenham managers since arriving from Japan in 1996 and only once during that long period was he side ever at risk of finishing below the team from Haringey. It seems a bizarre coincidence that this anniversary signalled something of a dynamic shift. You'd be hard-pressed to find a gooner with his head buried so deep in the sand that would argue against the fact Spurs look the better of the two teams right now and even at this early stage, are well placed to end the season well ahead of their arch rivals. Of course, the comical injury situation at the Emirates has played it's part but it has merely served to show how weak they are beyond their first XI. Man for man, you'd be looking to Tottenham High Road rather than Finsbury Park for the better all-round squad.

Arsenal didn't actually start that badly and on another day van der Vaart's goal could and should have been ruled out for handball. However, Wenger's better teams of years gone by would only considered this a minor inconvenience before re-establishing their dominance. As we have seen time and time again in recent years, the current side are totally incapable of responding to set backs. A fact punctuated by the total lack of attacking endeavour in the time remaining following Walker's stunning winner. There is a lazy regurgitated assumption that they 'lack leaders' but when you watch them surrender games so meekly, there is little else to say.

I don't care enough about the Clive Allen-Wenger spat to comment on it by the way.

Another team who suffered a derby day defeat were QPR who were on the wrong end of a 6-0 lashing by a Fulham side that looked like world beaters in spells. Yes, Neil Warnock's team were pretty shocking but some of the Fulham football was outstanding. Had Barcelona played like the West London Whites, you wouldn't be able to walk for all the sticky stuff in your underpants.

The link up play between hat trick hero Andy Johnson and Bobby Zamora was at times quite delicious with the former looking to re-establish himself as something of a ruthless goal-getter after some years in the wilderness thanks to injury and the like. Goals from Clint Dempsey, Danny Murphy and Zamora himself completed the rout. After an indifferent start to the season, this sort of win is exactly what was needed at the Cottage. I've never had any doubts that Martin Jol is going to do a decent job down by the Thames.

The other team from that part of the world had an equally comprehensive victory. Chelsea went to the Reebok and tore Bolton Wanderers a new one in a 5-1 hammering that actually flattered the awful home side who prop up the table with 6 defeats from 7 and a goal difference of minus 12. Despite this, people still talk favourably of Owen Coyle like he's the sliced bread of management or something. His record with the Trotters has been nothing short of appalling and had he been anyone other than the likeable media-friendly Scot who is actually well-intentioned in his belief in how to play the game, you imagine he would have been handed his P45 already. People will point to their tough start and the fact that the fixture computer wasn't exactly kind to them having had to face Liverpool, Man Utd, Man City, Arsenal and Chelsea in the opening weeks and to an extent I would agree. However, the manner of some of these defeats has been unacceptable.

We all know Bolton are a tiny football club in terms of resources, stature, location and support but cruicially, since returning to the Premier League over a decade ago, they had always been notoriously hard to beat. A trip to the Reebok has always been a potential banana skin and even when welcoming them to your place, you know you are in for a frustrating time. This was the way under Sam Allardyce for years and dare I say it, even Gary Megson's teams provided a sterner test to opposition teams. Under Coyle however, their all too open and inviting approach exposes their obvious limitations and allows any half decent side to pick them off at will. The sheer quantity of goals they concede is astonishing.

In the Chelsea game, many will focus on the terrible performance of Adam Bogdan in goal but let's be fair, his defence offered him no protection whatsoever – even “past it” Frank Lampard managed a hat-trick! The real test for Owen Coyle comes in the next few weeks when the fixtures are slightly kinder but if they are still floating in around the wrong end of the table come Christmas then serious questions will need to be asked of the manager. The first being why he is so highly thought of if he cannot rouse his team from their current state of malaise which, let's be brutally honest, is a continuation of a poor end to last season too.

There is a similar narrative at Lancashire neighbours Blackburn where a once hardened outfit are no more than a sad, unfunny joke. This weekend, the hapless Steve Kean sent out a team to bend over for Manchester City. A team whose continued improvement was further emphasised by the fact they were able to do the very un-City-like thing of sweeping aside the controversies of last week and responding with an emphatic 4-0 victory. Adam Johnson, Samir Nasri and Stefan Savic all scored their first goals of the season but yet again the main talking point centred around a hot-headed, controversial striker. Of course, this time it was all positive as Super Mario Balotelli scored his third goal in a fortnight for the Blues. Since his arrival last summer, very little talk of Balotelli has centred around his football. Such is the frequency of some crazy off-field antic he is involved in that many would have been forgiven for thinking he was only signed to provide entertainment as some sort of comic sideshow to the football. People are actually scratching their heads in bewilderment as they realise he is actually a half decent player and yet another vital cog in this seemingly unstoppable Manchester City machine powering it's way through the Premier League.

The timing of this apparent blossoming from Balotelli could not be better given the Carlos Tevez affair and the fact Sergio Aguero may be waylaid with injury over the coming weeks. Now that the Italian is getting game time, one would expect he won't be so 'bored' and might actually go on to be the quality player that so many have touted him to be.

Neighbours Manchester United won 2-0 against a Norwich City team that were unfortunate not to actually beat their more illustrious opponents. The Canaries were almost given the freedom of Old Trafford, creating chance after chance but fluffing their lines at the crucial moment, time and time again. Anderson and Danny Welbeck sealed win but the goals did not tell the full story. The United defence hasn't looked convincing at any point this season and how they kept a clean sheet this past weekend is a mystery to one and all. A more clinical Chelsea team would have put them to the sword a few weeks back, Stoke caused all kinds of problems last week while Basel's draw in midweek owed much to the these obvious weaknesses in the United back line. Johnny Evans looks so far out of depth he might have to start playing with an inflatable rubber ring around his waist while Rio Ferdinand could easily be mistaken for his inept brother Anton these days. Summer signing Phil Jones' tenacity and attacking intent masks some very big defensive flaws to his game. It's difficult to criticise a team that is still top of the league and flying but I think it would be crazy to ignore the problems at the back. If things do not improve, it's only a matter of time before they are caught out.

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Charlie Big Potatoes - The Tevez Story

noreply@blogger.com (Ibrahim Mustapha) — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 10:25:00 +0000

The fuse on the powder keg relationship between Manchester City and Carlos Tevez was lit and went up with a furious bang in Munich this week as the cash rich Citizens slumped to a 2-0 defeat against a rampant Bayern side in their Champions League group match. The football itself ended up taking a back seat as a more dramatic story was taking place on the touchline. For those that don't know, in the 55th minute of the match at the Allianz Arena, Roberto Mancini, desperately trying to claw his side back into the game, decided to withdraw the ineffective Edin Dzeko and replace him with one Mr Tevez. Astonishingly, the temperamental Argentinean forward apparently refused to go on and kept his posterior planted on the bench.

Very comfortable seats in that Allianz dugout, I'm told...

You don't need me to tell you that this was one of the most outrageous things a player could do. For all the other many misdemeanors footballers are (rightly) criticised for, refusal to actually play and do the job you are paid to do is up there with the worst. An act of disrespect aimed at the club, the fans, management and without exaggeration, is an affront to the game itself.

It's not unreasonable to suggest that Tevez behaved like a first class, certified Grade-A twat with this act of childishness. Whatever your feelings, you are obliged to be professional – a word seemingly missing from Charlie T's limited vocabulary.

Understandably, a seething Mancini felt that this act of insubordination should not go unpunished and soon declared that Tevez' career at Eastlands was finito with some sort of transfer, almost certainly abroad, expected to take place sooner rather than later....

Tevez’ expected departure from these here shores draws a close to a highly controversial chapter in English Premier League football. His distinctive facial scar from a burn suffered in his childhood could well be symbolic representation for the impact he has left on the game. From the moment he touched down in London back in 2006 to his imminent exit shortly, the tenacious little Argentine has never been far from the headlines, proving to be one of the most curious characters to kick a ball on this wee island of ours.

Tevez was first brought to my attention when I was as a layabout student back in 2004. Rather then taking advantage of my fine academic institution by doing something worthwhile such as joining sports clubs or meeting girls, I wasted many an hour playing Championship Manager 03/04 with my flatmate Matt. Said flatmate had previously done a gap year travelling South America where the only useful thing he came back with was the knowledge that Boca Juniors had a highly rated youngster on their books who was set to become most exciting Argentine striker for many a year.

Matt used this knowledge to sign the ‘hot prospect’ for his Roma side and caused constant frustration for me and my Internazionale team as he and I battled for the Serie A title year after fictional year.

“F****** Carlos Tevez” was a phrase I uttered on almost a daily basis during my first year.

Naturally, like most highly rated players on Champo, I expected never to hear of him again. I like to call it Cherno Samba syndrome. However, Tevez again came into my consciousness a year later when he made his initial move (in real life now obviously) to Corinthians from Boca following an explosive start to a career that included a Copa Libertadores win and two Argentinean Player of the Year awards. The transfer probably wouldn’t have even made a ripple in Europe had it not been for the unique circumstances in which it was concluded.

Fresh off the takeover at Chelsea two years prior, football was entering a new era; that of multi-billionaire ownerships. Of course, rich owners were around before 2003 but the kind of vast sums Abramovich et al have been throwing around in recent years were previously inconceivable. What does this have to do with Tevez? Well, the supposed £13m forked out by Cornithians smashed the record of any transfer fee in South America up until that point. The Brazilians had been recently bought by the highly mysterious Media Sports Investments (MSI) headed by the Iranian born businessman Kia Joorabchian who could easily be a James Bond baddie in the right light. MSI bankrolled the transfer and, as it emerged later, ‘owned the economic rights’ to Tevez as well. This was clearly not a typical player-agent relationship. Basically, despite being under contract to the club, the player was actually the property of a ‘third party’ – a phrase that would be become so prominent and repeated in English football a couple of years later that I was often tempted to drive a rusty screwdriver into my eardrum to avoid having to hear it again.

Now, I am not going to pretend I pay close enough attention to transfer market in South America to have been particularly concerned by the move itself. However, my interest was piqued by the fact that this whole convoluted situation was covered in an article in The Times where the implication was that third party ownership may well be the future of football transfers.

However, this apparent revolutionary idea not so much hit a buffer, but rather slammed head first into a brick wall when it crossed the Atlantic and hit these shores.

As I have suggested time and time again, things tend to go a little bit insane on transfer deadline day. Desperate attempts to do business before the window shuts often leads to the most unexpected of deals taking place. In August 2006, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who had the BBC deadline day live updates on my browser while frantically bashing away at the F5 key curious to know who was going where.

Every year, some cad sends in rumour about having spotted some high profile international at some obscure location. When it was suggested that Tevez, along with the equally highly rated Javier Mascherano were seen in London, everybody scoffed. Even if this were true, you would automatically assume they would be at the Kings Road, Finsbury Park or even Tottenham High Road. I doubt there was a single football supporter who would have expected or believed believe that two players that had participated in the World Cup and reached the quarter finals just two months prior would be strutting around the East End about to sign for West Ham United!

But alas, this is exactly what happened. Amidst talk of an MSI takeover of the club, Joorabchian had engineered a move for two world renowned superstars to Upton Park. The world had officially gone mad. We all stood open mouthed as then-manager Alan Pardew – smugness personified – appeared on TV looking very much like the cat that got the cream – if the cream in question was being accompanied by Champagne and lobster and being served by Jessica Alba wearing nothing but a smile.

With two new stars and an impending takeover, what could possibly go wrong? Well, let’s not forget this is West Ham we are talking about. Pardew somehow couldn’t fit the two new acquisitions into his side and the Hammers found themselves, typically, flirting with relegation. The MSI takeover fell through and the club were instead bought by an Icelandic consortium that turned out to be even more of a disaster than the country’s volcanoes and ash clouds of a year or so back. I’m not sure what else they expected from a group apparently run by Humpty Dumpty’s clumsier twin brother.

Tevez and Mascherano struggled to settle with the latter hot-footing it to Anfield within a couple of months. Pardew blamed the team’s poor form on the two suggesting that their initial signing was ‘disruptive’. I’m less inclined to take Pards seriously given that he often reckoned a generally hapless Bobby Zamora, a geriatric Teddy Sheringham and something called Marlon Harewood were all better options up front than the three-time South American player of the year.

Pardew was ultimately shown the door and replaced by Alan Curbishley in a move one can only describe as the equivalent of taking an old Skoda with a blown-out engine and replacing it with an old Skoda with a blown-out engine.

There were just 10 games left of the season when Tottenham travelled to the Boylen in March 2007. A thrilling and dramatic game ended 4-3 to the away side handing West Ham a 5th consecutive league defeat. The result aside, the game however featured a pivotal moment that may well have been the catalyst for the club’s survival. Carlos Tevez opened his West Ham account with a brilliant free kick and celebrated by whipping off his shirt and diving head first into ecstatic Irons fans. There’s nothing new about this sort of celebration but on this particular occasion it sparked what was to be the start of a beautiful, if short lived, relationship. The ecstasy and euphoria in the celebration showed that this was a player that truly gave a shit about the club he was playing for. The many fans that questioned him up until this point had no doubts about his commitment to the cause. The battle was lost on the day but the war was far from over. West Ham won 7 of the remaining 9 games with an instrumental Tevez scoring 6 times including the only goal in a 1-0 win at Old Trafford – interestingly, not to be his last goal on this ground – on the final day that kept his side in the top flight.

The Hammers have always been a club that have prided themselves on their “Englishness”. If you’ve ever met one of their fans you’ll know full well that it was West Ham who actually won the 1966 World Cup. Now, I’m not trying to imply they are all card carrying skinheads in East London but it was quite strange and also warming to see them embrace a foreigner – an Argentinean no less – as one of their own. Such was his impact in those months, Tevez was voted Hammer of the Year and is almost spoken of on equal terms as the club’s other great overseas hero, one Paulo Di Canio.

Unfortunately, this apparent fairytale didn’t result in anyone living happily ever after. While third party ownership is an accepted practice elsewhere, here in good ol’ Blighty we forbid such things. Listening to some people, you would think that illegal immigration is preferable.

After they were found to have hidden the details of Tevez’ (and Mascherano’s) ownership from the authorities, West Ham received a record fine but survived a points deduction and even more significantly, were allowed to keep fielding Tevez for those crucial end of season matches that he had such a major influence on.

Given that Tevez was technically ‘illegible’ you can imagine the team(s) that went down might feel somewhat aggrieved. Cue threats of legal action and a messy, messy two year legal battle by relegated Sheffield United which finally resulted in an out of court settlement that has been rumoured to have cost The Hammers nearly as much as dropping down a division would have.

Furthermore, Tevez’ rich vein of form during the run-in merely proved what many believed from the moment he arrived in Newham; That he was quite simply far too good for a team at the wrong end of the table. A mooted move to Manchester United encountered all kinds of complications due to the fact he was still ‘owned’ by MSI while West Ham owned his registration. Knowing they essentially wouldn’t receive a transfer fee, it was the East London club’s turn to threaten a trip to court. After much too-ing and fro-ing, an agreement was reached to compensate West Ham and Tevez would be ‘loaned’ to the Reds by Joorabchian for two years with the option of a permanent deal afterwards. After two seasons, 34 goals, two league titles, a Champions League trophy and a winning goal in front of the Kop at Anfield (one way to endear yourself to United fans forever) later, yet more contract controversy was to follow.

United had delayed talks and as the 2008/9 season was drawing to a close, there was still no offer on the table. At the start of May, United took on crosstown rivals City at Old Trafford where Tevez hammered in a fantastic long range strike to give the Reds a 2-0 lead they would hold on to until the final whistle. The fans inside Old Trafford celebrated the goal by demanding the Argentine be offered a new contract. Fully aware of this, Tevez sprinted to the bench with his hands cupping his ears in a gesture that seemed to be instructing Fergie and the United board to “listen to the people!”. Whether the United hierarchy saw this as an act of insolence or not will never be known but as it turned out, they weren’t prepared to listen. SurAlex famously claimed that the striker wasn’t worth the reported £25m transfer fee it would have cost to purchase him for MSI.

Of course, as well know and many of my ex-girlfriends will testify, the natural reaction to rejection is revenge and Tevez got his by joining a side that did think he was worth the money - not even needing to move house to do so. In the summer of 2009, Carlos Tevez did the unthinkable and left Manchester United to become a Manchester City player. More than just talking advantage of the situation, the signing was a chance for City to truly flex their financial muscle in the faces of their rivals in an “anything we want, we can have” move. The infamous ‘Welcome to Manchester’ poster was like a visual metaphor of a burglar shitting on the carpet after robbing a house.

One-upsmanship aside, Tevez’ first two years at Eastlands – on the pitch at least – were a revelation and left football fans up and down the country with very little to debate with regards to not only his ability, but his determination each and every time he stepped out onto the pitch. A stark contrast to his actions this week. One of his finest performances in City colours came at Stamford Bridge in February 2010. Amidst a massive furore about players shagging former teammate’s girlfriends and such, Tevez rose above the nonsense to score twice – continuing to expose the John Terry myth in the process – and inspire his side to an emphatic 4-2 victory.

This wasn’t the first high profile game Tevez took centre stage, just a month earlier in the Carling Cup semi final first leg, the two Manchester clubs were drawn against one another and naturally all eyes were on the former United man. He didn’t disappoint as he bagged a brace in a 2-1 win and repeated his cup-eared celebration in front of Reds fans who had gone from cheering his name just a few months earlier to jeering his every touch. The Argentine claimed afterwards that the celebration was aimed solely at ‘sock-sucker’ Gary Neville who he felt needlessly disrespected him before the match. To be honest, anyone who has beef with Gary Neville gets my approval.

United did go on to win the return leg 3-1 to progress to the final but alas, it was Tevez once more who scored City’s goal on the night. I’m not sure of the stats but I can’t imagine there are many other players who have scored at Old Trafford for 3 different teams. An incredible achievement however you look at it.

And it wasn’t all animosity aimed at former clubs, though. When facing West Ham, Tevez has made a very blatant point of saluting their fans as well as refusing to celebrate after scoring for both United and City.

But as we all know, disharmony and Charlie T go hand in hand like the Greek goverment and a gross financial mismanagement. In fairness, the star has had to tend to family issues. In early 2010, he was granted compassionate leave to fly back to Argentina following the premature birth of his second daughter, later that year, it was rumoured that he and his partner had split and she had taken the children back to South America permanently. City allegedly agreed to allow him to fly back to see his family but reneged on this deal causing Carlitos to start talking about leaving City and retiring from football altogether.

Now, I don't have children (thankfully!) and won't try to claim to understand parenthood but for me, if a father or mother is forcibly denied from seeing their child, particularly ones so young, then you can totally understand why they would be unhappy. How many parents would be pleased to accept any amount of money if it meant they had to live on the other side of the world from their children? Not many I imagine.

It was obvious that Tevez' wasn't right in the head and there was even a public spat with manager Roberto Mancini after his substitution against Bolton last December. But despite all the constant whining and complaining, he never shirked his responsibilities. On the pitch he remained as committed as ever. Ending the season on 23 goals and finishing joint Premier League top scorer, Tevez captained City to their most successful season in recent memory as they qualified for the Champions League and won the FA Cup.

Yet glory and money didn’t seem to satisfy him. Tevez criticised Manchester on Argentinean TV, claiming he would never return before releasing a statement declaring once more that he wanted to leave. Despite his influence, City were prepared to show him that, like any footballer, he was replaceable. Before a protracted summer move back to Corinthians collapsed, Tevez' fellow countryman Sergio Aguero was brought in as a potential replacement. The new signing's brilliant form had many of the City faithful asking 'Carlos who?' with very few prepared to shed a tear if their top scorer of recent years was to depart. After the his shameful behaviour in Munich, these same fans have actively started calling for his departure.

Mancini has drawn the battle lines by declaring Tevez persona non grata at Eastlands. The Argentine has half-heartedly tried to defend himself citing a 'misunderstanding' to very little sympathy and many praising Mancini for his hardline approach with an apparent troublemaker. The incumbent City manager has often had it hard since he arrived on these shores. Often undermined by all and sundry for for tactics last season, as well as having to deal with constant speculation about his job, the Italian was effectively swimming against the tide by still managed to come up smelling of roses. However, it would be remiss not to ask the question of the manager given his relationships with other players in the City squad.

Lost in the Tevez kerfuffle was the fact that the substituted player Dzeko also had some public angry words with his manager. This comes off the back of Super Mario Balotelli doing the same in a pre-season friendly over the summer.

Does Mancini have a problem wish discipline? Much of the evidence would suggest so. The argument that he has to contend with big egos is a valid one but he must stamp his authority or risk more confrontations. Critics and naysayers of City's big spending have been waiting for this moment just so they could say 'I told you so' and it is up to a forceful manager to prevent situations like this from happening - especially in public. With Manicini finally taking some strong action, some say the this latest Tevez scandal is the straw to break the camel's back but if we are to use any animal based idiom, the 'punishment' probably more a case of closing the stable door after the horse has bolted.

So what do we make of Tevez? Mercenary, mug or misunderstood? In five short years, for better or for worse, he has made more headlines than most players in the league. Although at times he seems to be no more than a puppet, Carlitos’ continued association with Kia Joorabchian and the acrimony that has followed whenever he has left a club will always have people view him as a disloyal money grabber. His off-field attitude is hardly endearing either. Given the fact he is on fantastic money, earning success and playing for a team undoubtedly on the up, people are entitled to ask why he continues to complain about everything under the sun. He is in a highly privileged position – something he ought to appreciate given the plight of many in his homeland.

But then, even if you don’t sympathise, you must surely understand that his complicated family situation will have an impact on his psyche and general hapiness. Unfortunately for City this has manifested itself in the worst way. His undoubted talismanic quality makes you sit up and take notice no matter who you support and he is in a distinct minority of current players that most teams in Europe would welcome with open arms. That is, if he didn’t come with more baggage than Stansted airport.

There are very few players one can say they genuinely enjoy watching. Tevez is not only a proven Premier League goalscorer – a feat in itself – but manages to combine his South American flair and style with just the right amount of grit and determination that we love oh so much in this country. When you seeing him charging around the pitch like a rabid pitbull from kick off right to the final whistle, you can't help but be impressed by his work rate, something that previously hadn't dropped even during his periods of melancholy.

With his refusal to come as a sub as requested against Bayern, Tevez lost any sympathy that may have remained both from his own fans and the 'neutrals' who just loved him - football wise - for the sheer hell of it. If and when he does leave, City, English football, and fans will be losing a great player but a very unlikable man. Sadly, this outcome will probably be the best for all concerned.

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