farlieonfootie

I'm Just Not That Into You

2013-02-15T07:30:00.000-05:00


photo by caseywest	via PhotoRee

Correspondent Ed's not into you, either:

You ever get the impression that Emmanuel Adebayor just doesn't care? Like when his team sends a private jet to retrieve him from the African Cup of Nations and yet he still doesn't make it to training on time. Or is it when he pretty much loafs around during games conserving his energy for . . . what? I'm not sure. Adebayor has a total of three goals this year for comp to date of about $4 million dollars -- a cost per goal of over $1 million. He was outstanding during a year when he was looking for a new team and a new contract. However, as has happened in the past, once the pay is settled and coming in the door, he seems to take minimal pride in his sport. This is sad for Spurs fans, who need him to raise his game. But it's also short-sighted for Adebayor. Pretty much every old guy I play with on Monday nights gives it their all every week and they've got to go to work the next day to make a living. Enjoy and use your gift Ade, because before long you'll be barely a memory on the passing scene.

o It's amazing the difference Daniel Sturridge makes at Liverpool. While they still looked confident and strong for most of the game against West Brom, they were in many ways the pre-Sturridge version of the team. News flash to Chelsea: Sturridge is good. At times in the past few weeks he looked like the best guy on the field. If anyone recalls, he exhibited these same qualities at Bolton. Now in the right position at Liverpool -- and by that I mean not on the right but up top -- he has freed up Suarez and been a constant menace. Most surprisingly to me has been his footwork, where he's exhibited startling control in holding the ball up, weaving through defenders, and pushing it to oncoming attackers. I'm not sure Liverpool is playing anything even resembling Swansea under Rodgers, but with Sturridge they're not the mid-table team they were a month ago.

o I surprised myself the other night and watched the replay of the England v. Brazil game. Like many others, I came away extremely impressed with Jack Wilshere. I particularly liked the lineup Roy Hodgson put out. Gerrard in the holding spot with Cleverly and Wilshere in the middle. Rooney top center with Walcott right and Welbeck left. This was speed up top and quick feet in the middle, with some the speed, brawn and efficiency of Gerrard protecting the back. Despite a few awful mistakes, one of which was made by Cahill and caused a goal, England looked at least level, and in many ways a better team than Brazil. Walcott was uncoverable, and Wilshere was too quick for the South Americans. Cahill also looked terrific except for his big mistake, keeping pace with Neymar and pushing him aside easily on a few breaks. FOF would be happy to know that Neymar has changed his hairstyle to something that's arguably even more ridiculous than his My Little Pony frock. Regardless, England looked the real deal -- making me wonder if the golden generation for the Three Lions is yet to come.

o This Celtic vs. Juventis game I'm watching is alive with spirit and vigor. Celtic looks the better team right now but for the mistake of one of their center backs who's played pretty awfully up to this point in the game. The crowd is alive with enthusiasm, and the Italian team is playing a pretty unremarkable and boring game of sitting deep and countering when they can. Celtic, however, won't let them out of their end, so the Italian league team is falling to form and handing out some cheap shots. I'm not sure Celtic is going to win this one, but they're certainly showing how they deserve to be here. Oh, and Hooper is right, Lichsteiner is wrong -- they've got to give a PK when a defender hugs and drags athe offensive player out of the way on corners. Corresponding yellows is ridiculous from the official.

o I'm looking forward to seeing how United cope with Ronaldo, and how Real will cope with Van Persie. Unlike prior years, Real go in with the better defense, but I'd have to give the edge to United up front. Worst part of this game is that it's going to be called by a guy that specialized in screaming about close calls in college basketball games. Soccer is not basketball; I don't just want to hear the names of who passes it to whom -- I can see that when I watch. Perhaps some time listening to Ian Darke would help this guy out; or perhaps just having Ian Darke call the game would be even better. Urgghhhh!!!!

This is farlieonfootie for February 15.

A Night to Forget: Manchester United 0 - FC Cluj 1

2012-12-06T07:30:00.000-05:00


photo by Bistrosavage	via PhotoRee

Q. Youth to the fore last night?

A. Yes, for sure, with the match representing a dreaded "dead rubber" in the Champions League group stage. Scott Wooton, Alexander Buttner, Tom Cleverley, Nick Powell and Danny Welbeck all got looks from the Boss. Sir Alex being Sir Alex, though, he also made a few "oldsters" available, including Ryan Giggs and Wayne Rooney. Evidently wanting a better view of the action, the Gaffer opted to sit in the stands and watch his young side from high above the fray.

Q. Did the infusion of youth result in faster and more free flowing team?

A. No, it seemed as if slow and boring were the instructions given in the locker room. Dead rubbers often play out this way. Although Cluj needed to win the game, United weren't particularly in the mood to give their Romanian group mates a gift. A defensive-minded stalemate was the result.

Q. So: Half and hour in and not much to report, eh...?

A. Yup, that was about the state of things after 30 minutes: some dogged back and forth but precious few real opportunities created by either side.

Q. Is that the way the half ended?

A. Well, United did turn up the heat a bit before the interval, as the offense finally began to build up some momentum. Basically, it was the result of Wayne Rooney beginning to impose himself on the game. Somewhat more worrying than the scoreline, though, was that Tom Cleverley limped off just before the break, and the youthful side that began the game was now being led by midfielders who were 38 and 39, respectively, as Paul Scholes partnered Giggs in midfield.

Q. Did United look comfortable in the second half?

A. Not after Cluj took the lead through a Luis Alberto laser that nipped its way into the upper corner of De Gea's net. Unfortunately, the recently introduced Scholes was responsible for a unfamiliar giveaway near midfield, and the Cluj striker didn't waste the opportunity. Once again, United found themselves in familiar territory, having conceded the opening goal in nearly 2/3 of their matches this season.

Q. The most interesting development of the second half?

A. You mean other than United's inability to score, even when they were attacking Old Trafford's famed Stretford End? It had to be when Galatasaray pulled ahead of Braga in Group H's other contest, effectively neutering the game at hand. As if it wasn't meaningless enough already, now even a slim 1-nil road victory wasn't enough to send Cluj through to the knockout round.

Q. But surely the game didn't end like that, did it? The Reds must have salvaged at least a point, right?

A. Actually it did end that way, as United managed a feat they didn't accomplish even in last season's shambolic Champions League display: losing at home. Sure, the game was meaningless for both sides, but what about pride? What about momentum? Neither was on display at Old Trafford last night. On an evening when the action never really got started the Reds produced a lame effort and went down far too easily. The team struggled to find width all game, and the absence of Antonio Valencia, Ashley Young and Nani is beginning to tell. Whereas the defense is regaining members, the midfield now seems a bit barren....

Once again the Reds are top, but this was not a display to remember -- a feeling that's been conjured up quite a bit this season.

This is farlieonfootie for December 6.

Bern-ed: Liverpool 2 - Young Boys Bern 2

2012-11-26T07:30:00.001-05:00


photo by lizbadley	via PhotoRee

Correspondent Scott likes Young Boys -- Bern, that is:

Not being that familiar with Swiss football, I found myself Googling Liverpool’s opponents for their Thanksgiving Day Europa League game. And while I can’t remember everything I read about BSC Young Boys, I do have a lingering uneasiness about that worrisome entry in my internet browser history.

But my uneasiness pales in comparison to that which must be festering in Brendan Rodgers, whose team twice blew leads at Anfield to manage only a tie against their Alpine visitors. After Anji’s defeat of Udinese earlier in the day, Liverpool could have qualified for the next round of the Europa League with a game to spare by simply holding serve at home. Instead, despite throwing a kitchen sink of second half substitutes on the pitch, the Reds will have to continue to split their focus between Premier League and Europa League for one more match day, at least.

Liverpool’s first goal was a long time coming as, aside from a few sections of time, they controlled the game from the start. So it was no surprise to see that Jonjo Shelvey, continuing to enjoy his Europa Leage groove, was in the right place at the right time to nod home in the 33^rd minute for his fourth goal of this campaign. What was surprising, stunningly so, was to see Raul Bobadilla’s sublime control and left-footed volley in the 52^nd minute that leveled the score and muted the Kop. The Argentine displayed incredible skill in bringing the long pass down on his thigh, after twisting around to meet the ball while sprinting from Jordan Henderson, and then firing past the lunging Pepe Reina from an acute angle into the upper netting.

At this point, Rodgers began his parade of A-team substitutions with first Steven Gerrard and then Luis Suarez entering the fray to seek the winning goal that would make life much more comfortable. Nor did the Northern Irishman let off the gas after Joe Cole put the Reds ahead once more in the 72^nd minute with a nice bit of skill to receive, turn and get the shot off before the salivating Suarez did the job himself. Right after, despite an excellent game throughout, Cole made way for Raheem Sterling as Liverpool pushed on to completely secure the three points.

Alas, in a turn of events seemingly all too familiar this year, in the 88^th minute Young Boys resurrected their hopes of moving on to the knockout stages when Elsad Zverotic made just enough space for himself outside the area to power home a shot directly over Pepe Reina that the Spaniard should have been able to handle. A few frenetic final minutes produced nothing more and the Reds will now have to win at Udinese in order to be sure of moving on.

This is farlieonfootie for November 26.

Thoughts on the Champions League, in No Particular Order

2012-11-10T07:30:00.000-05:00


photo by The 5th Ape	via PhotoRee

If you're looking this morning for four thoughts on the Champions League, does Columnist Ed ever have something for you...:

1. Boring. Am I the only one who finds most of these Champions League group stage games painfully boring? Manchester United's own players seem to be feeling the same thing. They were barely moving and trying against Braga, a team I think might get relegated if it was in the BPL.

Don't get me wrong, I understand why they're bored. They had to fly a long way to play in a stadium with poor turf and lights that don't always work. And they get to play a team that no one knows about or cares much about. Ugh.

I have two easy sugggestions on how to energize the CL: First, do some March madness brackets -- rank the teams that are eligible and set up the competition just like the college hoops tournament. And make it one and done. It's not as fair, but it certainly will keep sides like United from using their B team.

2. Impressive. Two teams have impressed me so far in the Champions League. First is Borussia Dortmund. They played a counter -attack game against Real Madrid and almost pulled it off for the victory. They're defensively well-organized and on offense move it around a lot. The other impressive team is FC Shakhtar Donetsk. They moved the ball very well against Chelsea and never looked intimdated. Especially the Brazilian Willian, who scored two and was extremely comfortable in possession. I've heard Spurs wanted him; too bad they couldn't get it done.

3. Real Madrid. It's hard for me to like Real in light of their cheek pinching coach, Pepe the stomper, and Ronaldo the preener. So I wasn't upset to see Borussia Dortmund beat them once, and come within a few minutes of a second win in Spain. Borussia may not have many stars, but they run the counter extremely well.

4. Luca Modric. Speaking of Real Madrid, I wonder if Luka Modric remains happy about his decision to leave Spurs. He's struggling to find a place in the Madrid lineup, and found himself getting the hook at half time. Still too bad he left for Europe....

This is farlieonfootie for November 10.

Hanging by a Thread: Manchester City 2 - Ajax 2

2012-11-07T07:30:00.000-05:00


photo by chefranden	via PhotoRee

o The hot seat beginning to warm up, Roberto Mancini left little to chance, playing an attacking triangle that included Carlos Tevez, Sergio Aguero and Yaya Toure up front against the men from Amsterdam. Bearing in mind that his City side will play Spurs at home this weekend, the Italian likely gambled -- correctly or not, still to be determined -- that five days rest would be enough when playing their next game at home.

o Coming as it did against the run of play, the double deflection for the Ajax opener was likely not what Mancini envisioned in his pre-game planning. Nor was De Jong’s uncontested header that made the scorline 2-nil a short six minutes later. On defense City look disorganized, demoralized and generally out of sorts – the same way they’ve appeared for much of the Champions League this season.

o Yaya Toure’s fantastic takedown and sidewinding goal which cut the deficit to one showcased the Ivorian’s game in one flowing move: the brute strength of an NBA power forward, combined with the finesse and footwork of a petite midfielder.

o Mancini doubled down at halftime, replacing Javi Garica with Mario Balotelli. While the move paid off with initial pressure, the ultimate dividend Mancini was hoping for was not immediately apparent.

o Kun Aguero reminded us a bit of Evan Lysacek. Playing as if he had ice skates on, the Argentine hit the deck and slid repeatedly…. Just askin’, but shouldn’t a player know which boots to wear on his home pitch…?

o Not content to use only three of his strikers, Mancini took one last chance at the 65 minute mark to throw in a fourth with the addition of Edin Dzeko – although he took off Tevez in order to do so. But it wasn’t super sub Dzeko who evened the scoreline – as was often the case last year, it was none other than El Kun who pulled the Citizens back to level terms with just over 25 minutes to play.

o Even when moving forward, City looked less like a team than a collection of individual superstars. Each offensive move was less a flow from one player to another than it was a piece of individual brilliance.

o When the winner came, it came from an offside position – and was rightly denied. The resulting 2-2 draw succinctly summed up Manchester City’s season to date – there is no “I” in team -- and left the Citizens and their Manager right where they were when the game kicked off: hanging by a thread.

This is farlieonfootie for November 7.

Late for the Party: Barcelona 2 - Real Madrid 2

2012-10-09T07:30:00.000-04:00


photo by Kid's Birthday Parties	via PhotoRee

Barcelona. Real Madrid. Camp Nou. Need we say more?

Of course we do.

Needing a victory, Real visited the hallowed Catalan grounds that have rarely brought them good tidings this past Sunday evening. Due to fitness issues affecting the home side, however -- lacking both starting center halves for this latest version of El Clasico -- Los Blancos must have entered Sunday's contest with significant hope for the first time in ages.

The game started out as if both teams were late to a party -- which in Spain would mean arriving quite tardily, indeed. Bodies rushed back and forth, up and down the pitch, as each team sought the early advantage, but neither side had a true shot on goal until the newly shorn Sergio Ramos missed an uncontested header from right in front of Victor Valdes' goal: the exact same spot typically so well protected by the aforementioned and absent Carles Puyol and Gerard Piqué.

Cristiano Ronaldo -- he of the sad affect of late -- made no such mistake near the 20 minute mark, though, burying his first shot on goal and beating Valdes on the near post for a deserved 1-nil lead for the men in white. Less than two minutes later the lead should have doubled, with the posts serving as the Catalans' most effective defender, denying a wide open Karim Benzema from point blank range.

Not to be left out, Lionel Messi soon pulled out his party invitation and drew his team level -- a rather surprise development, if any goal by the Argentine wunderkind can be described as such. In contrast to the typical artful Messi scoring play, this was more of a like Real Madrid "Tilt-ing" on the pinball that was bouncing around in the box, self destructing through unintentional rebounds and caught standing still at the one moment that truly mattered.

It wouldn't be a Clasico if the handbags hadn't come out, so it was no surprise when tempers flared just before the half as ticky-tacky fouls were greeted with moaning and writhing about on the pitch. But if the first half served up some wicked action, it was solely to prepare the fans for the second 45 minutes, which opened at one end with a disputed non-call on a penalty for Real Madrid and continued at the other with a disputed non-call on a penalty for Barcelona. The teams then traded free kicks from dangerous spots, although the home side's effort was considerably more celebrated.

As the clock hit the hour mark with the game delicately poised, Lionel Messi separated the sides he had previously drawn equal, his left foot caressing a free kick from 25 yards past the diving Iker Casillas. As if to more sharply draw the contrast with the preening Ronaldo, the diminutive Argentine offered up a kick that somehow had eyes -- allowing it to somehow slip through the same type of wall that had managed to frustrate his opposite number only a couple of minutes earlier.

If Ronaldo was frustrated by the change of plans, he didn't wait long to exact his revenge, turning the tables on Barca and Messi and drawing the two sides equal yet again. Slipped through the very center of the Blaugrana defense by Mesut Ozil, the Portuguese striker made no mistake with his latest opportunity -- although coming shortly after a hard landing on his left shoulder, the goal was greeted by as much wince as smile.

Once again the two sides raced up and down the pitch -- still late for the party after 80 minutes of action -- in search of the winning goal. While both Higuain and Montoya fluffed their lines with the three points available, the resulting 2-2 draw was more than appropriate given the quality of the two teams' performances. While the shared points were probably more warmly greeted by the home side, Jose Mourinho and his troops can hang their hat on the reminiscence that hey were every bit their opposites' equal on enemy turf.

This is farlieonfootie for October 9.

Five Things We Learned While Watching Manchester United vs. Galatasaray

2012-09-20T07:30:00.000-04:00

Photo by Woodleywonderworks on Flickr

o There Are No Easy Champions League Games: Sure, there are some Champions League matchups that are easier than others -- would you rather play Galatasaray or Barcelona? -- but there is no such thing as an easy night in Europe these days. The teams -- yes, even the Turkish ones -- have too many international players, and the contests are too cagey to lead to many 5-nil romps, even for a team with the quality of Manchester United. Last night's game was a perfect example: for much of the game the Turks held the ball, gave as good as they got, and were unlucky not to have scored on at least two occasions. After a fast opening by the home side, the contest quickly turned into a nerve-wracking affair, with one key difference: this time the home side managed to find a way hold on. Which just goes to show....

o A Narrow Win is Still a Win: United open the Group Stage with three points this year -- they now likely need only seven more from their next five games to move into the knockout stage of the competition. With two more home games, United would now appear very likely to better last year's effort. In the end, it will not long be remembered that last night's victory was ugly in spots, that United spurned multiple scoring opportunities, and that the home side looked vulnerable on defense. Instead, the United faithful will remember a game that counted as a win -- hopefully one in a series of them in this year's Champions League -- and that the home side banked all three points. Which they got because....

o Sir Alex is Not Fooling Around: Take a gander at Wednesday's starting lineup: Robin Van Persie, Shinji Kagawa, Antonio Valencia, and Nemanja Vidic, among others, graced the pitch for the men in Red. The only "big name" players missing from a squad which might start a Champions League Final were Wayne Rooney (injured) and Rio Ferdinand (rested). Gone is the conservative, rest-the-stars approach used to such ill effect last season. Names such as Bebe, Gibbo and Pogba stood no chance of seeing the light of day this time around, and not only because most of them have moved on -- but because the Boss is not so ill-informed as to realize he vastly underestimated the competitiveness of last year's competition. And Fergie could have been forgiven for taking a chance on this particular game, especially with the Liverpool derby coming up on the weekend. But he didn't, and we knew Sir Alex was serious last night, because....

o When the Black Coat and Sweater Come Out, Things Are Starting to Get Real: Everyone knows the sun shines in Manchester about as often as it snows in Miami, but there's something special about Old Trafford when the weather turns cooler, and there's nothing like a European Night to bring it out. And when Fergie busts out the Marks & Spencer jacket with the zip-up sweater underneath it can only mean one thing: the weather's begun to turn, and real English football is on display. Save the sunny day games for the pre-season and August. This time of year we want the real thing -- raw, cold, dark and hard hitting -- with only one exception....

o United Had Better Start Practicing Their Penalties: RVP, Chicharito, and now Nani -- how many missed penalties will Sir Alex put up with? Our guess is that this will continue to be an area on which the individual players will spend some extra time on the practice pitch this week, as there's nothing to energize the opposition like missing a penalty, and the stated goal of this year's team is to step on the throat of the opposition when they've got them down. United need to be more ruthless, and a betting man would count on them to get there -- or else.

This is farlieonfootie for September 20.

No Walk in the Park: Manchester City 2 - Real Madrid 3

2012-09-19T07:30:00.001-04:00


photo by bere	via PhotoRee

Tie askew, Jose Mourinho looked slightly disheveled as Real Madrid's first round Champions League matchup with Manchester City got underway last night at the Santiago Bernabeu Stadium. Sitting slumped in the shadows of his black leather sideline chair, his face partially obscured, the Only One looked as if his team's poor early season performance was weighing significantly on him. The Madrid Bossman's agitated state contrasted sharply with the suave visage of his opposite City number, Roberto Mancini. But while Mou may have appeared unsettled, it was the neatly coiffed Italian coach's defense which began the game looking completely unhinged, as the home side took the attack straight at the visitors from the opening whistle.

Cristiano Ronaldo made Vincent Kompany -- no less than the all-consensus best defender in the BPL last year -- look average at best in a one-on-one situation in the game's opening ten minutes, and only a fine save by City 'keeper Joe Hart kept the Spaniards from taking the early lead. When Ronaldo beat Maicon again a few short minutes later, flashbacks of Gareth Bale must have been running through the City fullback's mind even as Joe Hart bailed him out -- this time managing to deny Ronaldo's effort despite the misdirection afforded by Gonzalo Higuain's headed touch immediately in front of the City goal.

If the Spaniards were unable to take advantage of their early dominance, City found it difficult to maintain even the slightest scrap of possession in the game's first half. It was only through one of Ya Ya Toure's trademarked rampages through the middle of the pitch that City sent a brief reminder that there was more than one team intent on scoring for the evening.

Even the normally industrious Carlos Tevez was reduced to a mere spectator by City's conservative gameplan, a development Mancini sought to alleviate by switching to three at the back as the second half began. As the game clock hit an hour, though, the result was more of the same: City struggling to leave their own end, and Marcelo's missile just the latest development to tease the Madrilleno fans: almost, but not quite good enough.

It was when bodies began bouncing off Toure like cartoon bullets off Superman that the crowd finally sensed something special in the offing -- an event confirmed by recent sub Eden Dzeko's fine finish that handed City a stunning 1-nil smash and grab lead.

While City's goal may have been shocking, the equalizer was slightly less so. Coming on the heels of his two stupendous prior efforts, Marcelo's 77th minute curler should have surprised no one -- least of all City Captain Vincent Kompany, who politely allowed the Madrid marksman as much room as he needed to uncork his shot.

Having been denied the opportunity to roam forward, a newly liberated City now found pleasure in their late game attacks, as the pitch opened up and opportunities were spurned at both ends. As if fueled by this re-discovered sense of belief, Alexander Kolarov's free kick swerved past Xabi Alonso's outstrecthed leg and past Madrid 'keeper Iker Casillas' outstretched arm to hand the Citizens their second lead on the evening.

But if City thought they had won the game with less than five minutes to play, they must have forgotten that this Madrid team is no rag tag bunch of cast-offs, and an evening at the Bernabeu no Sunday walk in the park. Karim Benzema's corner effort hoisted the home team on level terms yet again with less than three minutes to go in regulation time. Enduring some nervy moments at the end, City managed to convince themselves that they had hung on -- just -- to claim a surprise and likely deserved point in their early round encounter in Madrid.

But to think any game with Cristiano Ronaldo is over before the final whistle is to open yourselves to a large dip in emotion -- the same drop Ronaldo's wicked curler took in fooling Joe Hart for the winning effort -- an event which caused the sad Ronaldo and depressed Mourinho to gain a similar appearance -- sliding on the ground, their faces filled with smiles.

This is farlieonfootie for September 19.

Shootout at the Bernabeu: Bayern Munich 2 (3) - Real Madrid 2 PK

2012-04-27T07:30:00.000-04:00


photo by The U.S. Army	via PhotoRee

Columnist Scott offers a final word or two on his second favorite team's late departure from the Champions League on Wednesday night:

As the goalies get better, advancing technology allows in-depth study of opposing players' tendencies, and rules have evolved allowing lateral ‘keeper movement prior to the kick, penalty kicks are far from the given goal we grew up believing. Even more difficult is conversion when the pressurized glare of a Champions League semi-final is blinding your eyes and threatening tachycardia.

Admittedly, I did not get to see the majority of the Real Madrid - Bayern Munich second leg game. But I did catch the last 20 minutes of extra time, during which I saw Real Madrid pressing relentlessly and creating the better of the chances, with only Gonzalo Higuain's slightly ill-timed touch wasting a near sure goal created by Marcelo's sublime 3/4-field dribble then pass. It should be noted, however, that my observation is notwithstanding a clearly unbiased impression to the contrary, of all the action prior, by a certain burly Bayern Munich fan in my acquaintance.

As a result, I'll leave the regular and extra time commentary to others and, instead, focus briefly on one of the most thrilling, if disheartening, penalty shootouts I've ever witnessed. All the elements were there: world class field players, world class goalies, Champions League Final on the line, dramatic saves, all hope lost, hope restored, crushing miss and, finally, emphatic closure.

Just before the expiration of extra time, Ronaldo is seen to confidently motion to himself, clearly an indication that he will take the first kick. So, after David Alaba scores first for Bayern, I watch with anticipation as one of the best players in the world, indeed the 2008 FIFA World Player of the Year, will surely put Los Blancos on level terms. But Manuel Neuer is of another mind, getting down quickly to his right to block the Portuguese’s hard-hit but too-centered shot. Ronaldo had made 26 of 27 penalty kicks for Real Madrid before this effort. Confidence erodes to mere hope.

Mario Gomez then converts for Bayern, sending Iker Casillas the wrong way. Hope is now flickering.

Kaka, another FIFA World Player of the Year (2007), will surely get Madrid back on track. He hits hard and tight to the lower right corner, but Neuer guesses correctly again and makes a brilliant save. Hope is extinguished.

Casillas saves! A brilliant save down low to his left to keep out Toni Kroos’ well-struck shot to the corner. Hope is struggling to reignite.

Xabi Alonso scores right down the middle, the beneficiary of seeing Ronaldo and Kaka go first. Finally.

Casillas saves again! This time he almost over-dives Philipp Lahm’s strike to his right, but reaches back to keep out the attempt. Hope sparks back to life! After being down 0-2 after two kicks, who would have thought Real would have the chance to knot it at 2-2 after four kicks? But first, Sergio Ramos must convert…

The long-haired Spanish defender approaches the ball with speed…. and proceeds to do what every soccer coach tries to pummel out of their players – he leans back too much and catches too much of the bottom of the ball, skying his wasted effort over the goal. With hope feebly flickering again, the weight on Casillas’ shoulders is greater than ever.

But if there was a weight on Bastian Schweinsteiger’s shoulders, he shrugged it off before calmly firing down the middle past the diving Spaniard.

So it will be the Germans who will march to the Champions League Final, in their home stadium, against a resurgent Chelsea side. Real Madrid has been defeated in the semi-final for the second consecutive year. Jose Mourinho has said he will stay. There is more work to be done. And it begins with wrapping up La Liga title.

This is farlieonfootie for April 27.

Postcards from the Edge: Chelsea 2 - Barcelona 2

2012-04-26T07:30:00.001-04:00

I somehow contrived to get on the plane with the slowest Internet connection speed possible -- Thanks, Virgin America! -- which made me miss the first half of the Chelsea vs Barcelona semi-final second leg. Not that I missed much, mind you: Gary Cahill and Gerard Piqué both being injured and subbed off early, John Terry being caught red handed (red kneed?) and shown a card of a similar color by the game's Turkish Referee, Barcelona hitting the back of the net twice and Chelsea scoring against the run of play in first half stoppage time. No, it was just another run of the mill first half of football.

The second half I did manage to catch, and here's what I saw -- including some postcards I wrote to my friends:

Dear JT: WHAT IN THE WORLD were you thinking? I called you out for your knee to the back of Alexis Sanchez in last week's game, but you couldn't help yourself again today. You're like the scorpion in the story of the scorpion and the frog..... You showed your true colors on Wednesday -- and there's no mincing words here: You're a cheat, on the pitch as well as off it.

PS| Nice try on the attempt to lie and deceive your way out of the situation -- but your usual tricks weren't working last night. You would never deliberately knee a player? That's an interesting statement. What exactly did you do to the very same Alexis Sanchez last week at Stamford Bridge?

Dear Victor: I know goaltender is not the most exciting spot on the pitch at Barcelona, but have you ever heard of positioning...? That word looked like Greek to you as you allowed Ramires to chip over your head for a stunning blow in first half stoppage time.

Dear Didier: Giving up a penalty to Barcelona less than a minute into the second half, right after RDM must surely have talked to you about keeping your discipline? Really?

Dear Lio: Missing that very same penalty? REALLY?? I guess even robots make mistakes every now and then.

Dear Cuneyt Cakir: A yellow card to Cech for delaying the game before it even hit the hour mark.... I don't recall that happening very often in other games -- UEFA must have issued you very strict instructions.

Dear Barcelona: Please stop feigning injuries and badgering Referees. You may wonder why so few people like you -- Respect, yes, but like? Not really -- but all you need to do to find the answer is look in the mirror. You may be the reigning European champions, but your constant whining, faking and diving is an embarrassment to the game, and a serious tarnish to your crown. There won't be many tears shed outside of Catalonia that you've failed to retain your crown

Dear Cesc: How's the new gig working out? I'll bet your vision of returning home didn't include being substituted for Seydou Keita with the Champions League Semi-Final on the line.

Dear Roberto: Taking off Drogba for Torres with 10 minutes left in the game? I would have understood you bringing on another defender. But Torres? I thought you were suicidal. I guess that's why you're the coach and I'm not.

Dear 'Nando: Unbelievable. I have no words (other than those I've just written).

Dear Newcastle and Spurs: Have fun in the battle for fourth, but all the marbles may involve finishing third. I'll bet I know which team you'll be rooting for in the finals.

Dear Real and Bayern: No Terry, No Ramires, No Ivanovic, No Meireles. Have fun.

This is farlieonfootie for April 26.

Super Cup or Super Farce?

2011-08-18T16:36:00.000-04:00


photo by scottfeldstein	via PhotoRee

Pep Guardiola was back in his modified Devo costume last night as Barcelona and Real Madrid played for the second time in four days, this time at the Camp Nou in Barcelona, Spain. I don't know about you, but these 'Clasicos' are seeming more like 'Commonos' with their seemingly regular occurences.

Once again, Los Madrilenos came out of the blocks flying, peppering Barcelona 'keeper Victor Valdes right from the game's outset. Jose Mourinho had obviously amped up his side to compete physically with the smaller Catalans, who were dominated in Madrid earlier this week, nevermind the final 2-2 scoreline. Indeed, the Blaugrana's performance at the Santiago Bernabeu on Sunday left more than a few fans and journos alike scratching their pates wondering what happened to the vaunted Barca possession game.

On Wednesday night, it was Cristiano Ronaldo channelling the King, Eric Cantona, with his upturned collar striking fear in the hearts of the Catalan defenders in the early action. Barcelona countered with a King of their own, as Lionel Messi slotted in Andres Iniesta, who chipped Real goaltender Iker Casillas to give the Catalans an early lead in the same casual manner you or I might take a Sunday stroll on the beach.

Ronaldo evened matters less than five minutes later, as a rare Eric Abidal concentration lapse managed to keep Los Merengues onside, with the Portuguese wonderman tapping in a brilliant Karim Benzema delivery to knot the scoreline at one.

Pushing far up the pitch may have meant constant pressure and offensive chances for the visitors, but it also left their defense open to the ever-dangerous counter-attack, as well. As if trying to prove that last point, Pedro almost immediately tilted the match back in favor of the Catalans, but Casillas showed his quality in denying the young winger.

Real Madrid continued to take the game straight at the Blaugrana, in stark contrast to the procession of four dour matches these two sides played back in April, which were notable mostly for featuring more quality diving than the Chinese Olympic team. Cristiano rattled the crossbar, Mesut Ozil mishit his final work product, while Karim Benzema finally showed why he's begun to play his way into The Special One's long-term plans.

At the other end, Lionel Messi and Andres Iniesta seemed to be taking on the boys in white almost singlehandedly -- and not doing too badly at it, either. So you can imagine that it came as no surprise to Jose Mourinho when the Golden Boy broke the deadlock just before halftime, chipping St. Iker off a beautiful backheel from Gerard Pique -- and I thought the latter was a defender.....

The first half action was compelling and frenetic, and although the two teams went into the locker rooms having produced only three goals, there was enough action and entertainment in the first half to fill several matches in their entirety.

The second half was marred with fouls and ill will, bringing back to the surface an ugly reminder of the teams' prior meetings. As time ticked down on Real's opportunities, even Couch Mou was forced from his comfortable sideline recliner to add an extra sense of urgency to his side's efforts. Although Kaka's first contribution upon his introduction to the match was to offer a comically short corner, no Blaugrana fans were laughing at Karim Benzema's ultimate equalizer. Finally stabbing home a short ball that ricocheted around the box like a pinball, the Frenchman's ugly goal was more than beautiful to the All Whites and their supporters.

In the end, though, it should really come as no surprise as to how this match was settled: with a Lionel Messi wonder goal and an ugly hissy fit of a fight. The Argentinian wonder boy volleyed home a beauty of a winner to give the Catalans a third straight Cup before the proceedings devolved into the farce that is becoming typical of this embittered rivalry. Even newcomer Cesc Fabregas was not immune to the Swoon Fever encircling the Barcelona camp, writing around uncomfortably after being welcomed into Spanish football by Marcelo with a leg cracking tackle.

In the end, though, Arsenal's former Captrain had the last laugh, finally raising a trophy after spending six years of raising nothing more than an envious pair of eyes. At full time it was Barcelona 3 - Real Madrid 2, with a game that lived up -- until the final few minutes -- to its Super name.

This is farlieonfootie for August 18.

No Messi, No Win

2011-08-01T07:30:00.000-04:00

How Sweet is This Ride?

Some brief impressions of United's ultimate match in their US tour, in which the Reds gained a small measure of 2-1 revenge over the boys from Barcelona:

o The Twitter "Tweet Up" Tailgate went off without a hitch, and could not have been more fun. I loved meeting @JasThe Devil and his beautiful wife Wendy, @RedMamaStyle, @OleisMyHero and their son BG, @OTMecca and his son Jacob and friends, @parapluieverte, @sethirahat, and @Brett_Compton. Along with my son and @cbannerot, @fbannerot and another Twitter-less friend and his son, our group was all Red, all the time, and our spirited (and spirit-filled) pre-game was definitely an afternoon to remember.

The Tweet Up in Action

o The Tweet Up proved several things to me: i) friends are where you find them; ii) there are real (and interesting) people out there behind all those @ signs on Twitter; and iii) it's possible -- through the miracles of modern technology -- to feel like you "know" someone before you have ever physically met them. The Tweet Up made a special game even more memorable, and it turned an evening game into an entire day of fun. A hearty thanks go out to @JasTheDevil for being the organizer of this United-loving group, and bringing the pop up tent, food and drink.

o We drank some pretty good craft brew at the Tweet Up, too: while @JasTheDevil stuck mainly to his Coors, the rest of us enjoyed Stoudt Brewing's Karnival Kolsch (nice, clean taste), 21st Amendment Brewery's Hell or High Watermelon Wheat Beer (meh; pretty bland), Long Trail Brewing's Belgian White (not the best of it's style, but plenty good enough), Sierra Nevada Brewing's Summerfest Lager, and Southampton Publick House Brewing's Keller Pils, along with IBC Root Beer for the kids. I really enjoyed the Stoudt Kolsch, and the Long Trail is an old favorite from a trip a couple of summers back to New England. With temperatures approaching the triple digit mark -- and probably even hotter on the pavement surrounding the stadium -- we sought out the little shade we had and the cool, refreshing taste of American craft beer to slake our thirst.

o As far as the game goes, the Reds came out of the gate charging, and never looked back. In contrast to that fateful night at Wembley last May, United's early dominance paid off with a goal, and set Barcelona a bit on their back foot. Although the performance may have been due to a lack of game sharpness for the Catalan side, I'll take United's energy and counter attack over Barcelona's side-to-side any day of the week.

o Nani was impressive throughout the match, and looked dangerous virtually every time he touched the ball, sending several Barcelona players back to remedial defending school after the game. The Portuguese wideman played as if he had something to prove, which in a way, he does.

o Some things never change: Barca on the pitch, and Dimitar Berbatov nowhere in sight. I guess Sir Alex is saving him for the Community Shield now that Chicharito is going to be rested for a few weeks; but I would love to see Berba's hold up play deployed against Barcelona. We hand the ball back to them the ball back so often, that I would like to see how Berba's physicality -- and make no mistake, he is a big guy -- would do against the Blaugrana. Just once.

o I thought David De Gea played well, save one errant pass late in the game which was intercepted by the opposition. The kid moves extremely well, and his distribution is even better than I thought. My sense is that he's well on track to be the new number one.

David De Gea -- Large and In Charge

o Danny Welbeck impressed me throughout the US Tour, so I have to ask: are we really going to keep six strikers this season? Rooney, Hernandez, Berbatov, Owen, Welbeck and Macheda? Are we going to keep Macheda? And where does that leave Mame Biram Diouf? On loan, or as trade bait? It's clear that United still has some business to do in the off-season, as Tomas Kuszczak also waits at home in England.

o Tom Cleverly had a good game, too. His high tempo energy was helpful on defense, allowing the Catalans to possess the ball but only rarely get into dangeous positions. Jonny Evans came through with high marks for his defense on the night, as well.

o I didn't see much of Ashley Young yesterday. It was about 20 minutes before I even realized he was in the game, and I hope that's not a portent of things to come: Villa fans most vociferous complaint about Young was that he often goes long periods in games without making an impression. In general, though, I thought Young had a good US Tour, so maybe it was just an off day for him.

o Who else but Michael Owen to pop up with a late winner? I think the former scouser is going to get a fair bit of playing time this season, provided he can stay healthy. Maybe he's going to pick up yoga, a la Ryan Giggs, in an attempt to turn back the clock. Although Owen missed a sitter at the end of the match, there's virtually no one else I'd rather see with the ball steaming down the pitch in a late one-on-one versus the opposing 'keeper. Victor Valdes must feel the same way now.

o As United head back across the Atlantic to prepare for the Community Shield, this American Red has lots of memories from this past week to keep the fire burning brightly during the upcoming season.

This is a stoked farlieonfootie for August 1.

There's No Shame in Losing

2011-05-30T07:30:00.000-04:00


photo by 99 James Kieran Nguyen	via PhotoRee

Some final thoughts on Manchester United's 3-1 loss to Barcelona in the Champions League:

o I'm incredibly proud of this team. Yes, they got beat, but the spirit with which they contested the match was nothing short of fantastic, and true to the United tradition. This pains me to say, but they were beaten by a better team -- on the night. Barcelona played absolutely stunning football on Saturday, spinning the pass wheel roulette, poking, prodding and probing in order to find and exploit even the slightest United weakness. Sometimes you just have to stand up and applaud, which is what I did at the game's conclusion, mesemerized by a little Argentine magician at the top of his game, spurred on to even greater heights by a Spanish maestro in the middle who dictated the game's tempo.

o Barca earned my respect on the night, but still has a long way to go to earn my admiration. Their beauty is often cheapened by their theatrics, diving and simulation, which appeared even as they won their fourth European Championship. Perhaps it is a sign of the youth in their squad, but Pep Guardiola would do well to remind his players that they are representing both a club and a culture, and their continued flopping, time wasting and overy-theatrical rolling around on the pitch do nothing to enhance their reputation.

o I was impressed by both Barca's speed and defense, and in particular by the wonderfully gifted Eric Abidal. Antonio Valencia saw little if any of the ball during the match, and much of that came down to Abidal's teriffic play on Barca's left flank.

o Barcelona's control of the ball is such that they often appear to have an extra man on the pitch, creating space with one-touch, no-look passing, seeing-eye headers, and glue-like ball handling skills. In something I had to see to believe, I was continually amazed at their quickness and ability to out-posititon United on balls in the air, akin to "boxing out" in basketball, as the smaller and shorter Catalans repeatedly used their bodies to shield against the larger and taller United squad and maintain possession. If it happened once it happened 100 times during the course of the game.

o Rio Ferdinand said in a post-match interview that you have to give credit where credit is due, but also that he felt as if the Red Devils' defense made some uncharacteristic mistakes on the night. I'd concur. The game wasn't Patrice, Rio or Vida's best -- I actually thought Fabio played well -- and even Edwin in goal was not on his very best form.

o I'm still wondering about the Berbatov decision. I believe I know what Sir Alex was thinking: if the game was tied late, Michael Owen could come on and score a dramatic winner -- he's done it multiple times, and he looked sharp against Blackpool this past weekend. But since it didn't pan out that way, and Owen wasn't even used, did we just alienate our top goal scorer to the point where he must be traded? I'm sure Sir Alex will sit down with Berba after the emotions have settled a bit and explain his decision again, but it seems as if we just needlessly damaged the relationship, and I for one would not like to see Berbatov leave.

o The game began very similarly to the way the match in Rome started out two years ago: United out of the gates charging, forcing Barca back and causing them to make several uncharacteristic mistakes, with poor clearances and sloppy backpasses creeping into their game. But still the Reds were only able to manage one decent attempt during this time, with Chicharito's shot being blocked before it even had the opportunity to bother Valdes.

o If minutes 1 to 10 were mostly United, Barca gradually managed to achieve a stranglehold on midfield and thus the game shortly thereafter. Our need for a midfield maestro -- Luka Modric, where are you? -- was noticeable, as was the missing Darren Fletcher, who could have added an element of grit and fight to the midfield battle if he'd recovered from his illness just a bit sooner.

o Although Messi's goal gave Barca the second half lead, David Villa's goal was the real killer, making an already tough road virtually unbridgeable. United came back into the game as Barca tired late on, and it would have been interesting to see the Reds throw down the gauntlet in the final ten minutes in search of an equalizer had Villa not netted. I think that's what Sir Alex was hoping for: a close game as the clock ticked on toward full-time, but it just wasn't to be.

o I gained a newfound respect for United's First Team Coach Rene Muelensteen, who showed the intensity of United's fighting character as he whipped the pro-United portion of the crowd into a pre-match frenzy.

o Some of the most fun I had all evening was on the tube ride out to Wembley, sitting in a car full of pro-United supporters. As we raucously sang and chanted the full United songbook, the multi-national scope of the Red Devils' fan base was readily apparent. Whereas Barca's fan base is predominantly European in nature -- and even Catalan to be more specific -- the supporters in my car were from Asia, England, Europe and America. It truly is One United.

o I thought when Rooney scored his wonderful goal that it was game on. The goal was artful in its conception, and beautiful in its execution, Rooney demanding the ball back from Giggs and doing exactly what he wanted with it as he sent it flying past the helpless Valdes. This was the game I had expected: Barca's passing creating possession and real chances, and United's speed and flair on the counter leading to their best opportunities. Tied at halftime, I expected a tactical change from Sir Alex, but within nine minutes the ball was in the back of the United net again and we never really recovered.

o Last night was sad only in its finality. Shockingly and suddenly, the season is over. Full stop. No more games next weekend to wipe away the bitter taste of the Catalan victory -- again. Like a college graduation, this team of players will never be assembled in the same configuration again. Some will leave. Some may be traded. And some will be recalled from other environs.

o But the 2010/2011 United team should be celebrated for what they were: a team in transition that overachieved and never said die. If someone had told me way back in July's pre-season that this team would win the League and play for the European Championship I'd have taken it right then and there. But Fergie's not done rebuilding, and there are several more pieces of the puzzle to place.

o But this team, this exact configuration, should be applauded by every true Red around the globe. It's easy to carp, and criticize, and slag off our own. It's easy for United's rivals to laugh and cheer our ultimate Champion's League downfall. It's easy to point out all the things we could have done better this season. But don't. This was a team that won the League for a record 19th time and did us all proud. I hope somewhere in London they had a big party last night to celebrate the season. A party with music, booze, and dancing, filled with family and friends. A party to celebrate all that they accomplished this season, even on Saturday night. Which for all I know, they did -- and if they did, they deserved it 100 percent, because there's no shame in losing to that Barcelona team.

This is a proud United Red farlieonfootie for May 30.

London Calling

2011-05-28T06:30:00.000-04:00


photo by davidhc	via PhotoRee

More of the sites and sounds of a pre-match London:

o Well, the weather is doing its level best to cooperate for the weekend's festivities. What started out as a gray, gloomy and chilly day has ended in near perfection, the sun finally peeking out from beneath the clouds and the climate becoming more temperate by the minute. If we can just keep it this way a bit longer....

o What was the guy in line next to me at customs thinking when he told me my football warmup jacket should be blue? Maybe I have this wrong, but didn't Manchester United beat Chelsea four times this season?

o Is it just me, or does it sound slightly suggestive every time the recorded female voice on the Underground announces I'm headed toward "Cockfosters?"

o I saw a one lonely dude on the tube wearing a Spurs jersey, the first time this trip I've seen any Tottenham presence in London.

o Man United kits were flying off the shelves this afternoon at Lilly White's Sporting Goods store in Picadilly Circus. The only pre-printed ones had Wazza's name on the back, so I have to return tomorrow pre-game to pick up my brand new #9 Berbatov shirt.

o I found a proper English pub to have an after-work pint, cooling my heels and slaking my thirst at The Nag's Head. Definitely recommend dropping in if you find yourself in Knightsbridge.

o Somehow after dinner I ended up in a nightclub that had this weird Pakistani/Russian vibe going on, the spinning tunes vaguely reminiscent, but with a middle eastern twist to them. Not a lot of football spoken there, though.

o The next place I ended up at did speak football, as I engaged in a spirited conversation with the bouncer regarding Arsenal and their lack of recent silverware. "Next year," he's convinced. He's rooting for Barcelona, by the way, so I dismissed his rantings as just that.

o Wearing my United warm up jacket, I was stopped by numerous people for fist bumps and high fives. I definitely saw more United fans than Barca fans out and about, but the Barca fans made themselves more apparent than the United faithful, with most dentifying their alleigance by wearing a scarf.

o Overall, I'd describe the atmosphere in London on the day before the big game as relatively low key, and often hard to tell there's a big game about to be played. London's obviously a big city, with lots to do and multiple events competing for your attention. I'm certain today will be different, though, the closer we get to kick off, and especially as I board the tube to get out to Wembley. That's when the real atmosphere and nerves will kick in.

o I'll be tweeting live updates from my Twitter account all afternoon and evening, and have an unbelievable surprise planned if we win.

TO BE CONTINUED....

This farlieonfootie for May 28.

Road Trippin'

2011-05-27T09:37:00.000-04:00


photo by Global Jet	via PhotoRee

So, as with all great road trips, this journey began with a beer. An ice cold beer. Designed to smooth out the vague remnants of a hangover from last night's office sending off party, the 12 ounces of Sam Adams Light eased me into the initial stages of my 8-hour journey to London. I've headed to England's Capital, sometimes known as The Big Smoke, to see Saturday's Champions League Final pitting the underdog English Champions Manchester United against the favored La Liga winners, Barcelona.

As the wheels of the farlieonfootie Corporate G-5 left Miami terra firma, I tilted back the last of my beer to consummate the silent toast I had just offered, and pointed in the general direction of where I thought farlieonfootie's crack Correspondents Ed, James, Tom and Scott were. Part of the farlieonfootie "Champions League invasion" of London, we'd only yesterday finished our staff planning session regarding responsibilities for our extensive team coverage of the weekend's festivities. What we hadn't planned was a raucous office party that spiraled hazily out of control, leaving me as the only one of our five intrepid reporters still standing, with two of the others hospitalized with debilitating hangovers, one arrested (I do believe you're innocent, Tom, but couldn't wire the funds in time for you to make bail!), and the fifth man still missing in action (names have been withheld to protect the innocent, but if Correspondent Ed's wife is reading this, please shoot me an email through our completely confidential office system to let me know where (if?) he eventually turned up. Last I saw Ed, he was looking slightly the worse for wear, with no shirt or belt, and only one shoe still on his person).

But that was then, and this is now. A now in which I find myslef hurlting toward London to cover the final. To amuse myself on the journey across the pond I popped a DVD into the player showing highlights from United's FA-winning sides of the past 30 years. I found myself inspired all over again by Giggsy's slicing run that left Arsenal defenders flailing in his 1999-era wake, and praying that the Welsh Wizard has at least one or two more memorable moments in store for the current season.

After a ridiculous 45 minute wait to disembark my plane -- is the financial crisis in England so dire that the largest airport in the country can afford only one staircase? -- and an even longer wait to clear customs (note to the British Homeland Defense Department: please contact Disney World for some helpful hints on how to process thousands of people quickly and efficiently) -- I found myself aboard a helicopter (a "chopper," as we refer to them in the States) bound for The City.

Quickly changing clothes in my luxurios suite at the Hyatt Regency Churchill Hotel -- the very same suite which had most recently been occupied by a certain politician from Chicago, by way of Honolulu; I'm not sayign who, but he has the initials B.O. -- I ventured out of the hotel to soak up the London atmosphere. Which is a long way of saying I went out for a beer. A Hoegaarden, in fact.

More on that later, and more on the atmosphere I found as I ventured around the City, fully clad in red and black, in my next entry. We'll be bloggin steadily but irregulary, if that makes sense, as the schedule dictates.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

Transformers

2011-05-06T07:30:00.001-04:00


photo by Christina Welsh (Rin)	via PhotoRee

Tuesday, May 4, 2011 / Camp Nou / Barcelona, SPAIN

It was a dark and stormy night....

And then there was the matter of a certain football match in Catalonia Tuesday night, although the game was far from a classic. Sure, there was less flopping, diving and whinging than six days ago, but this game was more pure drudgery than jogo bonito. Nevertheless, herewith some observations about a few of the many transformations which occurred during the fourth and final clasico, a result which sent Barcelona to the Champions league final at Wembley to face Manchester United:

The game's announcer transformed Carles Puyol linto a "beast of a man." Only in La Liga could that description be apt. Nemanja Vidic is a beast of a man. Vincent Kompany is a beast of a man. Christopher Samba is a beast of a man. Hell, even Brede Hangeland is a beast of a man. But Carles Puyol is a bad haircut. He may be a decent defender, but his haircut alone is enough to make me totally discount him as both a player and a person.

One Bad Haircut

photo by Gerard Reyes

via PhotoRee

Jose Mourinho transformed from Special One to Absent One. Apparently he had other things to attend to. You think there's any coincidence that Osama Bin Laden was killed earlier this week? Some things are more important than football.

Emanuel Adenayor transformed from a semi-decent attacker in his Gooner days, to semi-decent goon in his Real Madrid days. What is he thinking?

Kaka demonstrated his transformation from stunningly good to shockingly bad is now complete. Where did his game go? The guy went from world player of the year to afterthought in less than 36 months. The best measure of his impotence came in Real Madrid's performance, which picked up sharply after the Brazilian was pulled in favor of Mesut Ozil.

Lassana Diara showed of his feminine side. Someone needs to sit the Frenchman down and tell him his nickname -- "Lass" -- is a synonym for young woman in English. It's not exactly scaring anyone off the pitch.

Cristiano Ronaldo transformed from Champion to defeated semi-finalist. Apparently someone forgot to tell the Portuguese superstar that very few people -- especially superstars -- see their careers improve after they leave Old Trafford.

And Javier Mascherano is still a disgrace. That didn't change at all.

This is farlieonfootie for May 6.

Mourinho vs. Pep -- Round One

2011-04-30T07:30:00.000-04:00


photo by Claudio Gennari	via PhotoRee

Correspondent Scott checks in with a remarkably neutral view-- for an avowed Royalist -- of Round One of "El Crapico":

Santiago Bernabeu Stadium – April 27, 2011

Real Madrid 0 – 2 Barcelona

The pre-game, profanity-laced verbal fisticuffs in the press room set the stage for Guardiola to add a little more pep than usual to his motivation speech, and for the media to read more than usual into Jose Mourinho’s black-on-grey sartorial ensemble. Although recent results have trended toward Real Madrid, Barcelona had Pique’s Shakira shaking for them, not to mention a league-dominating, hyper-passing, goal-scoring machine. So the Lord Voldemort-like Mourinho (I really wish I had come up with that myself) would attempt to work his magic against the nearly-Griffindor-hued Catalans for European bragging rights.

From the game's start, Madrid continued their aggressive, pressing style from the previous match, with similar success as it was not until the 5th minute that Barcelona managed to play a little keep-away, short-lived as it was. The Blaugrana did start to click around the 10th minute when David Villa ripped one just wide of the upright. Then, in the 15th minute, Barca showcased some brilliant passing in tight quarters which foreshadowed their first real shot on goal, in the 24th minute, when Xavi was put through only to see his effort parried by Iker Casillas.

Curiously, precious few fouls were called early on in the conservative but hotly-contested match, until Pepe’s apparently electrified hand touched Dani Alves in the 29th minute, producing the game’s first yellow card. Then, in the 38th minute, la familia Espanola erupted in a squabble over elbows and ever-increasing theatrics. Depending on your loyalties, either Pedro ran straight into a retreating Arbeloa who didn’t shy away, or Arbeloa stepped into Pedro’s path and Pedro just made sure the ref saw – which suspicion was confirmed by a yellow for the Real defender.

That skirmish set the stage for the 44th minute inter-team conference that followed Dani Alves’ yellow card and which was perhaps to balance Arbeloa’s previous card. That was immediately followed by Sergio massaging the shame from his face more than the non-existent sting from Marcelo’s phantom slap.

Shortly before the interval, Cristiano Ronaldo did nothing but encourage rumors regarding his sexuality as his balls seemed, for the second time, to be magnetically attracted to the two sweaty, erect defenders in the wall for his free kick. Fortunately, the pre-halftime melee that saw Barcelona’s backup keeper get a red card distracted us from pondering the issue further.

Tied with respect to score and shots on goal, and with even more fouls committed by Barcelona than Real Madrid, the pressure seemed to be working for Mourinho’s Madridistas, despite Chris Sullivan’s disparaging half-time comments. Aggressive chasing up front, and disciplined, synchronized defense was keeping Messi and his cohorts at bay, even if Sergio Ramos’ yellow card will relegate him to the bench for the next game.

Although he did not receive a yellow card for his histrionics in the 59th minute, TMZ is reporting that Pedro will be presented with an honorary Screen Actors Guild card in recognition of his multiple performances on the field. Apparently with the TMZ app on his phone, and not wanting to be upstaged in terms of card distribution, the referee seemed to bow down to a Barcelona mob of players when he showed Pepe a straight red for a borderline-yellow card offense in the 60^th minute. Mourinho’s understandable yet apparently unappreciated sarcasm landed him in a spectator’s seat, scribbling notes for his minions.

But still, the Special One’s critics could only gnash their teeth until, in the 77th minute, Afellay, coming on as a substitute, flexed his fresh legs in a burst of speed past the previously indomitable Marcelo, and whipped a cross to Messi at the near post who plunged a dagger into the heart of he-who-must-sit-in-the-stands. On their heels, but still feeling they might overcome this score line next week, the Madridistas trudged through the next 10 minutes before Messi(ah) miraculously delivered the final blow in a lightening bolt of celestial brilliance, parting the Madrid Sea of defense with the ball suctioned to his feet before calmly rolling his shot into the net.

The cacophony of critics will only grow louder now that Mourinho’s team faces a surely-insurmountable feat next week at the Camp Nou. Will Ronaldo remain as silent then as he did this time? Will tactics be changed to chase needed goals? Will Messi write another gospel by feeding the frenzy of the tens of thousands of Catalan faithful in attendance with two more goals? Only He knows for sure.

This is farlieonfootie for April 30.

Cat Fight

2011-04-28T07:00:00.000-04:00

Barca and Real Engage in Yet Another Chapter of Their Very Heated Rivalry

photo by Endlisnis

via PhotoRee

Notes on El Clasico, numero tres:

Well, I guess Pep's outburst at the press conference on Tuesday had its intended effect: His team came out bitch slapping, cat fighting and play-acting like champions, with even their scrub goaltender Jose Pinto managing a massive accomplishment, recieving a red card send-off without ever setting foot on the pitch.

The game opened with a massive yawn, though, as the two sides basically played knockabout for the first 35 minutes. At one point early on, I watched as Barca completed 15 consecutive passes without leaving their own half.

Without Real Madrid pressing them in the slightest.

Is that really the Beautiful Game, or just the boring game?

Things soon hotted up though, as the two teams began to fight like teenage girls who've had their boyfriends stolen. Which leads me to the following obeservation: Screw the game. This contest was something ripped straight out of Correspondent Ed's wildest dreams: it was like watching teenage girls have a pillow fight at a slumber party, albeit without the negligees or sexiness.

The amount of complaining from the Blaugrana was embarassing. Flat out embarassing. My general belief is that players who ask the referee to produce a yellow or red card should themselves be carded, except that action would have left Barcelona with no players on the pitch by game's end. End of story. It was hilarious to see Barca Captain Carles Puyol, Keita, Javier Mascherano and more, all with "Respect" emblazoned on their red and blue sleeves, gesticulating at and arguing with last night's referee when he failed to produce a yellow card.

No Caption Necessary

All of these wild protests were begun by Pedro's girlish dive, in which he went down as if shot when Alvaro Arbeloa stared at him too hard. A few minutes later, Busquets tried the same trick. It was finally mastered early in the second half by Danni Alves, who needed a stretcher ride to the sidelines on account of his horrific "injury."

The three of them should be carded retroactively for their false injury claims, as two of them held their faces when television replays showed they were lightly bodychecked and never received any contact near their head, and the third made a meal of a soft challenge by Pepe -- which probably didn't deserve even a yellow card. It was embarassing to watch, and any true fan of football, including those who support the Blaugrana, should condemn their cheating behavior in the strongest terms.

At a certain point, and I don't know exactly when except to say it happened some time during the first half, the referee lost control of the match, and allowed himself to be swayed by Barca's cheating, whinging and whining. Jose Mourinho acually ended up in the Beranbeu's jail due to his pointing out the ridiculous nature of Barca's farcical performance to the referee. And from theat point in time the actual outcome of the game was a mere formality, with Real Madrid down to ten men, and it was only a matter of time before the cheaters -- I mean the Spanish champions -- grabbed a lead, and then a second goal to put the tie basically out of reach.

In the end, though, the talking points about El Clasico Tres won't be about the final 2-nil score. They will, and should be, about the manner in which Barcelona achieved their pyrrhic victory. For all those concerned about football's wimpy image, as a sport marred by girlish players who go to ground at the first threat of contact, this game only served to exacerbate the issue. In the very worst way.

I have a proposed solution: based on their performance last night, half of Barcelona's team should be relegated to the WPSL -- that's the Women's Professional Soccer League in the US for those of you who are not (unlike Correspondent James) massive fans -- for their feminine bitch slapping and fake injury claims. It was truly a bitter pill to swallow if you love the game.

And it leaves me with one final thought: I've never wanted Real to win the re-match so badly in my entire life: Hala Madrid!

This is farlieonfootie for April 28.

Twelve Steps

2011-04-22T07:30:00.002-04:00


photo by Kevin	via PhotoRee

My name is Correspondent Scott and I am a closet Real Madrid fan. It’s been 18 years, 7 months and 4 days since I first gulped the purple Kool-Aid.

I say a “closet” Real Madrid fan because, in contrast to my other team, Liverpool, which hasn’t won anything since shortly after Flock of Seagulls were on the radio, Real Madrid, except for a very recent drought, have accumulated an embarrassment of riches over the past two decades, and it’s a trite cliché to be a fan, so I avoid it in certain company. Unlike the hordes of bandwagon Manchester United fans, my team predilections are not predicated on being able to say that I am a fan of the champions (and no, I really don’t mean you, boss-man).

You see, I came about my fandom honestly. Living with a family in Madrid for two weeks in 1992, I was heavily swayed by their allegiance, but what sealed the deal was the first time I beheld the teenage Raul play so fearlessly and score seemingly at will. Living again in Madrid from 1995 to 1996 only reinforced my choice of Real over Atletico (although I have mucho respeto for the in-town rivals).

If my feelings for the former Liverpudlian, Fernando Torres, can be described as a man-crush (which they were in these pages), then I’m going to move back to Spain with a life-size poster of Raul, and start lobbying for same-sex marriage. Hell, I’ve even started looking up the Schalke 04 scores since he was put out to pasture there.

But enough explaining – after all, there was an instant Clasico played today. Unfortunately, I only caught the second half because, even with DVR, there are only so many games played at 3:30pm on a Wednesday that you can watch without having your cable shut off.

The beginning of the second half started with energy to spare as the Madridistas were relentless in their pressure and tackling. But, after the initial onslaught, it seemed Barcelona settled into their customary keep-away game such that, by midway through the second half, it seemed all Real Madrid were interested in was defending and then booting it up the field for Ronaldo or Di Maria to chase and not get; or chase, get, and then lose.

Watching the game with my seven-year-old son, Cole, I found myself repeatedly pointing out how Real should have passed out of the backfield instead of just booting it. Quite frankly, I found myself yearning for not only the end of regulation time, but also the end of extra time, so we could get to penalties and a chance at victory, because, the way we were playing, we weren’t going to be able to string together two passes in the offensive half of the field, let alone get a shot on goal. The only good thing happening was that, despite all the play up the middle and quick passes, the few shots Barcelona got on goal were acrobatically dealt with by Iker Casillas, utilizing every millimeter of his fingers.

Then, and I honestly can’t remember if it was shortly before or after Adebayor came on for Ozil (I usually take notes but really hadn’t planned to write about the game), the play became more balanced. Real got a few passes together – and found Ronaldo in space. The game became increasingly physical, with a few yellow cards shown and several more not shown. Spanish national teammates (because, really, this is practically an intrasquad game for Spain) began to push and shove, argue and gesture. Gerard Pique and Xabi Alonso escalated their exchange from cordial to irritated to “you’re no longer invited to my house for Semana Santa”. Some may disagree, but I thought the referee did an OK job of calling egregious fouls, yet at the same time letting the the players play through some scrappy times.

Next, during extra time, in a flurry of velocity with the ball at his feet and with a trailing vapor of hair gel, Ronaldo launched toward goal with such speed, skill and determination that my resolve was tested. You see, I have never cared much for the Diva. After all, he smirked and scored against my beloved Liverpool, while playing for Bandwagon United, and still dives faster than Greg Louganis with a weight belt.

Nevertheless, conflicting emotions soared to a crescendo that shattered my will when a brilliant combination play found Di Maria free on the left. When he stretched for the ball, and then managed a perfect cross met by Ronaldo’s head at the apex of his jump, the net rippled as the Madrid players swamped the Diva, and I found myself tumbling off (or was it on?) the wagon as I reached for that violet-hued, sugary concoction to shamefully slake my desire for a championship fix.

This is farlieonfootie for April 22.

A Mexican Stand Off

2011-04-18T07:30:00.001-04:00


photo by Mild Mannered Photographer	via PhotoRee

April 16 / Estadio Santiago Bernabeu / Madrid, Spain

Real Madrid met Barcelona on Saturday for the 162nd time in time in La Liga, and for the first of four meetings in 18 days' time. Four Classico's in two and a half weeks: better get yor hair gel out.

I'm not sure you would have realzied this when La Liga's schedule was first released, but Saturday's match was actually the least important of the matches coming up, if they can be ranked that way. Barcelona entered the game with a fairly insurmountable lead in La Liga, while the next three matches between the two sides include the final of the King's Cup and the two-legs of the Champions League Semi-finals.

Commentator Ray Hudson was in all-star form for the game, waxing lyrically, melodramatically and majestically about the end-to-end action on the pitch. When he's on, Hudson can make watching grass grow sound exciting. Phil Schoen also did a great job bringing Ray back down to earth, providing context and play-by-play in-between Ray's rhapsodic utterances.

I didn't agree with everything Ray said, though. I think he actually called Spurs a bunch of "donkeys" at some point during the match. Although it helped him to make his point about Real being race horses, he neglected to mention that Real scored all their goals in the home leg versus a 10 man Spurs team that was running on fumes. If that's a race horse, then it's one that was running against a three-legged opponent.

It says something about the star power on the pitch Saturday that David Villa was virtually invisible for the first 25 minutes. I was actually shocked when I saw him on the pitch -- I hadn't heard his name called yet, or even glimpsed him on the television. A minute later, though, and Villa was at the center of the action, wrongly accused of diving by a referee who needed to have his vision checked.

Real gave as good as they got through the match's first half. Maybe this is sacrilege in the world of football, but even after 40 straight games without defeat, I'm not 100% convinced that Barca is the greatest thing to world football since sliced bread (this didn't sound so crazy to me when I thought it as it looks when I write it). Don't get me wrong -- Barca is clearly one of the top sides in the world. I just haven't figured out whether they're number one, two, or three....

It was fitting, though, that two penalties decided the day's result, which ended in a Mexican stand off. Fitting in that it took a couple of out-of-the-ordinary events to create goals, as well as that the first penalty meant the game didn't serve as a true test for the next three matches, with the two sides spending the final 35 minutes with an uneven amount of men on the pitch.

And while Messi's penalty was struck clinically, it was Ronaldo's penalty that should serve as a lesson in how to take them. Hit by a man who's been famously stopped at the line (think European final versus Chelsea in 2008), Ronaldo's kick from the spot should be text book illustration A on how to hit a penalty. Struck with complete confidence, Valdes had absolutely no chance of stopping the equalizer.

In the end, the game settled little in the long-running rivalrybetween the sides. Think of it instead as just an appetizer before the main course.

This is farlieonfootie for April 18.

Berlusconi Fails in Second Confidence Vote of the Week!

2010-12-22T15:20:00.000-05:00


photo by batrax	via PhotoRee

Our European correspondent Todd checks in from Italy, taking some brief time off from his holiday celebrations to offer his perspective on this weekend's disappointing turn of events at the San Siro:

December 19 / Stadio San Siro / Milan, Italy

The Wall Street Journal reported earlier this week that “Silvio Berlusconi's government survived what was, by our count, its fifth confidence vote this year. The final tally in Italy's lower house of parliament: 314 to 311. Anti-Berlusconi trade unionists, students, and unaffiliated anarchists have taken the occasion to riot in Rome, setting cars on fire and beating policemen. Italy's 10-year sovereign bond yield edged up to 4.61% yesterday, from 4.53% on Monday before the vote.”

To which farlieonfootie would add: “And Roma traveled to San Siro, stealing three points from Berlusconi’s league-leading, star-studded rossoneri club.” Although the match lacked the headlines and drama of sex scandals, palace intrigue, and consequential street violence, its outcome was a punishing blow to Il Primo Ministro, resulting in his sixth confidence vote of the year.

Claudio Ranieri fielded a giallorossi side featuring Morco Borriello, the team’s leading scorer on loan from Milan, up front, with Francesco Totti firmly bundled and affixed to the Roma bench. Not to be outdone, Milan skipper Massimo Allegri benched Ronadinho. With these two legends literally shivering in their boots, the starting line-ups were predictable.

Milan dominated the first half handily, passing and dribbling through their Roman counterparts with relative ease, if not flair. Although the Milan attack was ambidextrous and effective, the end result was still nil for both sides at the interval. The second half featured more of the same sporadic back and forth. The rossoneri kept circling their prey but couldn’t quite swoop in with their talons. Their shots were weak and off the mark, the lead-ups and movement good but lacking in creativity with Ronaldinho remaining on the bench.

Then it happened: Menez delivered a beautiful cross to the penalty area and, amidst the confusion, Borriello struck a ball which ricocheted off defender Abate’s leg and found the back of the net. Not the most graceful goal, but a crushing blow of vengeance nonetheless coming from the striker that Milan never fully appreciated last season. Roma threaten to finish off their opponents in the 76^th minute as deRossi cracked a volley on goal but Abbiati tipped it over the bar to maintain the scoreline.

When Ronaldinho finally entered the match for an injured Boateng, it felt like too little, too late for the Brazilian to whip up his magic. I almost swallowed my thought mid-form, though, as he quickly executed an acrobatic bicycle that sailed just over the crossbar; a little lower and that would have been on top of the 2010 highlight reels.

On Ronaldinho, I know he’s not so young anymore, beyond his peak, stays out late and parties too much, blah blah blah, but it almost feels as if Allegri’s benching today was overly contrived. He’s still one of the best in the game -- that used to be a non-controversial statement -- and the man’s creative bursts electrify a Milan side currently suffering brown-outs. For the record, I think he’s developed into a more complete player these past two seasons, as evidenced by his passing game, complete with Magic Johnson trademarked lookaway assists, that elevate his teammates.

On the less positive side, I lost track of how many times Ibra and Robinho were caught rightfully offsides. On Ibra, I remain a fan (with the exception of his shocking pink boots); however, while he certainly has the mojo Milan need, he’s also prone to play lackadaisical at times (including today), as demonstrated by his perpetual inability to detect Roma’s offside traps. On Robinho, I’m decidedly undecided so far; the teasing sambas in the box are magnificent, but the matching finish is often lacking.

In the end, the rossoneri couldn’t navigate the labyrinthian Roman bureaucracy to score even once. The final count: Roma 1 – Milan 0, as Roma unexpectedly pick-up a few points before they head back to the capital. While I’m not ready to declare Roma a Serie A contender just yet, the victory on enemy turf may be the necessary catalyst to give the eternally disappointed supporters from the eternal city hope for a strong 2011 campaign.

But in Milan the rossoneri are beginning to take on the appearance of a bottle of Brunello in which the cork has begun to rot – all the ingredients for an outstanding product are there, but the end result is a bit stale and leaves the imbiber frustrated knowing it should have been so much more fulfilling. They are a side ripe with underperformance, despite sitting atop the league table. Allegri must find the proper combination of grapes and yeast or risk another series of disappointments in the scudetto and Champions League. A part of the answer may involve harvesting some of his younger grapes.

What we may in be witnessing is the first volume of the Lombardian corollary of Edward Gibbon’s classic six-volume tome – this updated version called The Decline and Fall of the AC Milan Empire. As a milanista, I certainly hope the updated version has a different ending.

This is farlieonfootie for December 23.

Heads Up

2010-12-20T17:30:00.000-05:00


photo by storem	via PhotoRee

I watched Atleti take on Malaga in the absence of EPL action Sunday. While it wasn't the match I hoped to be witnessing -- that one would have pitted a certain team from Manchester against a fourth place side from London -- it served as an interesting diversion from the snowed-out schedule (or lack of) that the EPL served up this weekend.  

Actually the match also served as a respite from the horrid football -- NFL style -- that I unfortunately saw first hand earlier in the day, while watching the Miami Dolphins host the Buffalo Bills. The Fins managed to run their standard offense fairly consistently today -- 3 runs and a punt -- on their way to another home loss in a season that is ending yet again in bitter disappointment and finger-pointing.  

Atleti served up a better game, though, with a 3-1 victory that may take some of the pressure off embattled coach Quique Sanchez Flores. Diego Forlan was dropped from the Atleti starting lineup, and Reyes was a welcome return with the warm weather being judged to suit his style better than the last time we saw Atleti -- in their disappointing and snowy mid-week exit from the Europa League.  

The sight of the lush green pitch at Malaga's Rose Garden -- located in the heart of Spain's Costa del Sol mediterranean vacation land -- was a stark contrast to the muted brownish-green grass of the English winter. The game's style also served a harsh contrast to that of its English relative, and seemingly matched its location, played at the leisurely mañana pace of a land accustomed to vacationers. Both sides were content in the first half to play languid, ticky-tack football, with long arcing crosses interrupting the tight, controlled passes from time to time; beautiful to watch, but a very different sort of game than that featuring the more direct style preferred in the EPL (often referred to derisively as "over the top" football).  

Malaga lifted the tempo slightly in the second half, ostensibly at the urging of their pedigreed coach, Mañuel Pelligrini. It's been an eventful year for Señor Pelligrini, who moved both several hundred miles and 16 places south in the league table to take over the reins at Malaga following his stint at Real Madrid. Unfortunately, without personnel named Kaka, Higuain, Ronaldo and Casillas, Malaga present a more formidable coaching challenge than his last stop.  

Los Colchoneros, absent golden boy Forlan, relied on the diminutive Simao Sabrosa and his Portuguese countryman, Tiago, to gain the victory today. Tiago opened the scoring for Atleti with a towering header, rising a full foot and a half above the nearest defender to deflect a Simao free kick into the upper right-hand corner for a 1-nil Atleti lead.

Alvaro Dominguez doubled the lead in the 66th minute, again off the head, and once again both Simao and Tiago played a role, the wideman lofting in a free kick to his compatriot, with Tiago heading it across the goal mouth for Dominguez to stash home. With Malaga still reeling from the second goal, a short three minutes later Simao lofted in one final free kick -- game, set and match -- with the coup de grace header supplied by (you guessed it) Tiago. After all, when you're hot you're hot.  

On the defensive side of the ball, De Gea looked more like himself today, having seemingly found his sea legs after a rocky couple of weeks. The young Spanish 'keeper made several fine reflex saves on his way to keeping a clean sheet, and displayed great instincts and a renewed sense of confidence that will surely not escape the attention of the many teams watching him.  

With the win, Atleti now find themselves in sixth place in La Liga, claiming a virtual European spot, although not the one they desire. If they can figure out a way to get Forlan back on the pitch playing more like he did last year, they may begin to kick on from here.

This is farlieonfootie for Dec 21.

What We've Learned So Far in the Champions League

2010-12-10T17:30:00.000-05:00


photo by edwin.11	via PhotoRee

This piece could be really short, if I'm honest. Sure, there were a couple of minor surprises, but by and large the group stage of the Champions League has come to a conclusion with virtually no major surprises. The tournament, especially at this stage, has begun to take on the feel of being just an opportunity for the largest clubs in the world to generate a little extra ticket revenue from their fan base, with almost no shock entrants or Cinderella teams trying on their glass boots for the knockout rounds, a la the Gonzaga Bulldogs in March Madness.....

Although there were moments of high excitement -- White Hart Lane for instance, on the night that Gareth Bale held his coming out party for football fans worldwide -- by and large the group stage has proved a mere coronation for Europe’s largest and wealthiest clubs. In large part this is due to format: the cream really should rise to the top over the course of six games. But there's also no way of denying that there’s a signifcant talent (and money) gap between the “Big Five” leagues in Europe (EPL, La Liga, Serie A, Bundesliga and Ligue 1) and all the other smaller leagues (Denmark, Russia, and Romania, just to name a few), and the Champions League group stage only serves to highlight the gaping chasm.

England, Germany and Spain produced all the group winners save one -- United, Chelsea and Spurs from England; Schalke and Bayern from Germany; and Barca and Real from Spain. The other top spot was reserved for one of the few minor surprises I referred to earlier: Shakhtar Donetsk from Ukraine. The teams finishing second are again heavily weighted toward the Big Five: three from Italy, two from France, one from Spain and one (Arsenal) from England. Once again, there’s only a small band of resistance from Europe’s second tier: FC København, and I’ll be absolutely shocked if they advance past the next round.

So two teams in all from outside the Big Five – not a real eye-opener, and a result most analysts could have picked months in advance. Perhaps the only two surprises I can think of are that Arsenal almost didn’t make the tourney’s latter stages, struggling to finish second in their group, and one of the German sides (Werder Bremen) finished last in a group in which many thought they’d finish near the top.

But despite the overall predictability of the results, the group stage of the Champions League hasn’t proved a total waste of time, and we’ve even managed to learn a thing or two that could prove useful as we get deeper into the tournament. Here’s some of what we've learned so far:

Barca is Good. Really good. Potentially scary good, and I don't think La Blaugrana have hit top form in the Champions League -- certainly nothing approaching their utter destruction of Real Madrid from a couple weeks ago. Even so, they've still managed to play some of the most mesmerizing football of the tournament. I love to watch Barca, with their ticky-tacky, intricate passing game, creating chance after chance, but I’d hate to have to play them. Based on current form, I think they’ve got to be considered the favorite.

Spurs Can Play with the Best of Them. On any given night, Spurs can play offense against any team in the world. And they're able to do it both at White Hart Lane, and even more impressively, on the road in Europe, too. The problem comes when Spurs have to play defense. I love watching Uncle Harry's team going forward, but I think it's a bit naïve to expect this strategy to work in the knockout stages of this tournament in particular. Mark my words: Spurs’ penchant for weakness in the back will bite them, and most likely sooner rather than later.

Real Madrid are an Enigma at Present. Real have been incredibly dominant in the Champions League, with only a certain Pippo Inzaghi standing in the way of perfection, but those performances have been overshadowed in my mind by the absolute shellacking the Royals received at the Nou Camp in mid-November. In order to figure out how far Los Blancos will go in this tourney, one is forced to contemplate a very tricky question: “Which is the Real Real?”

Shakhtar Donetsk Are Better Than I Thought. Tied with Chelsea and Bayern at 15 points, only one less than top point scorers Real Madrid, Shakhtar have been a true revelation. Reaching the round of 16 for the first time due to some attractive, attacking football, it’s unclear what we should expect from the Ukranians. Are they the side that won five of their six games, keeping four clean sheets along the way, or are they the side that were handed a right hammering at the Emirates, 5-1? Only time will tell.

Manchester United's Defense is Fairly Tight. Not airtight, mind you, as the Reds finally conceded a goal in the last game of this round, but pretty damn good, nonetheless. I don't know if their defense is as strong as Inter's tournament-winning form from last year (the I-don't-care-if-you're-Lionel-Messi-we're-still-going-to-shut-you-down variety of good), but Sir Alex knows that defense is paramount in Europe. Blink for even an instant -- remmeber Arjen Robben, anyone? -- and all your good work can and will be quickly undone. With a healthy Rio and Vida in the back, United appear less likely to blink than most other sides.

Inter's Just Not That Good sans Jose Mourinho. Maybe it's the teams’ age, but I think more and more it's the coaching. I never thought much of Rafa Benitez at Liverpool (to be fair, I didn't think much of the rest of the team, either), and I haven't changed my opinion, despite his changing both team and country. Internazionale is a mess right now, and don’t look near the team that lifted the trophy only seven short months ago. If he can’t right the ship and soon, Rafa won’t need to worry about the knockout round, because he won’t be coaching in it.

Chelsea are Wobbly. Much as in the EPL, the Blues looked strong to start the campaign, but their form has dipped of late in Europe. Needing to rely on a late winner at home against Slovakian giants MSK Zilina and losing to Marseille mid-week can’t have inspired much confidence in the squad, and the Blues will be hoping they can rediscover their form before the tournament resumes. If not, Roman Abramovich will spend yet another year searching in vain for European glory.

This is farlieonfootie for December 11.

Bits and Pieces from Here and There

2010-12-06T21:18:00.000-05:00

Some bits and pieces from here and there:

• I Watched David De Gea Play for Atletico Madrid this weekend. Unfortunately. My handpicked successor to Edwin Van der Sar inspired about as much confidence as a bumbling Detective Barney Fife against Levante on Saturday, conceding a rather soft goal to open the scoring in yet another shock Atleti loss. I wonder what's going on with the young Spaniard. He's had a tough few games lately -- appearing both indecisive and inexperienced against both Espanol and Aris Thessaloniki, in addition to his performance against Levante -- and looks to have lost his preternatural swagger. I wonder if all the rumors about United and other teams vying for the young 'keeper have finally proved unsettling.

• A Leaked Cable from Wikileaks has revealed that the illegitimate thug who leads Burma, Than Shwe, considered making a $1 Billion controlling bid for Manchester United in mid 2009. Thankfully for United fans, Shwe changed his mind at the last minute because he thought it might "look bad" coming directly on the heels of a hurricane which killed 140,000 of his subjects (and not only because the $1 Billion price tag for United almost exactly mirrored the amount required to rebuild Burma after the extensive damage caused by the storm). Umm... Yeah. It would have definitely looked bad. And you thought the Glazers weren't good stewards of our club.
• Also, What's with Two-Bit Asian Thugs looking to buy their way to legitimacy in the world's biggest football league? It's bad enough (but appropriate) that discredited Thai con man Thaksin Shinawatra owned Manchester City for a brief period of time, but the news that Shwe considered making a bid for United is just flat out ridiculous. It makes me wonder if there is there an Illegitimate Asian Ruler Handbook that contains the following suggestions on how to gain and hold power: 1.) Seize power in a coup, preferably bloodless; 2.) Steal billions from your own people; and 3.) Use said billions to buy an EPL team, preferably one that plays in the City of Manchester.

• And While We're on the Subject of Wikileaks, what's up with the vaunted US Government electronic security protocol? The masterminds who allowed a US Army private to access any file he wanted are the same guys who are in charge of keeping my Social Security Number private? No offense, but farlieonfootie's crack IT team has done a much better job of keeping our own internal dirty laundry hidden from prying eyes (including columnist Ed's embarassing fetish for watching football games in the nude, even while in the company of others).

• Speaking of Embarassing, Newcastle United owner Mike Ashley should be ashamed to show his face in public after the shocking and classless dismissal of Chris Hughton earlier today. Not only did Hughton stabilize a club in chaos last year and earn them promotion, he had done well to date in the Premier League, guiding the Magpies to a better point total than nine other clubs have achieved to this point in the season. Although I've enjoyed watching Newcastle back in the League this year, my new hope is that Ashley's meddling lands them squarely in the relegation heap. Good riddance.

It's a farlieonfootie who's thankful for our veterans, signing off on December 7, a date which will live in infamy (although not for the reasons cited above).

Man Up, Barça!

2010-12-03T17:30:00.001-05:00

Regular EPL Columnist Ed checks in, with an alternate view of El Superclasico. Can't wait for the post-staff-meeting fireworks to begin:

Last night I sat down at 10:30pm after a long day at the office and turned on the Barcelona vs. Real Madrid “El Clasico.” If that little descriptive title (it’s not just a game, it’s a Classic!!) doesn’t make you gag something up from lunch, then what I saw probably would. In addition to the hysterical commentary (not “ha ha" funny hysterical, but rather the “I’m squealing about every pass in this match like I just saw the face of God” hysterical), what happened in the game reminded me of everything I hate about La Liga: flops, slap fights, excessive hair product, and I’m sure there were a few European man bags as well.

Let’s begin with Barcelona. I will grant you they are the best team in the world. Messi is unbelievably good. I get it. Yada yada yada. But I also can't begin to imagine how irritating it would be to be dominated by ten 5’ 6” guys that weigh an average of about 135 pounds. The way they keep the ball away from you and instantly flop whenever you get near them – urgghhh -- defending them has got to be like trying to kill a fly with a hammer. I think after the game I might have to put a few of them over my knee and give them a good spanking just to keep them balanced in the head.

And they need it! How about we ease up on the vanity, guys! Unless you’re auditioning for a teenage boy band, I think you can drop the hair gel and the 80’s perms. Here’s a question: can you think of another sport outside of roller dancing where the competitors wear hair gel? And what the hell is the ball like after a few headers? I’m not a huge fan of the tattoo sleeve, but at least it’s edgy and doesn’t come off on the ball. Seriously, Barcelona, you’re a bunch of pretty boys. Let me recommend a quick read that might help you out: To Be a Man, by Charlton Heston. Yeah, I’m talking about this guy:

Read it. Love it. Live it.

And hey, Coach Pep, what’s up with flipping the ball away from Ronaldo on the throw in? Just hand him the ball, don’t be a little tease. Ronaldo – who’s also so vain that he probably thinks this article is about him -- was absolutely right to give the coach a shove, though I think a quick knee to the groin might have been better. And Coach, don’t make your girly-man image worse by appealing to the official and letting one of your 135 pound midfielders defend you. Seriously, stand up to the guy that just shoved you. See, for example, David Moyes after being shoved by Italian pretty boy Mancini. No really, watch a clip of how to handle yourself in these circumstances:

Please note how Moyes is at first surprised, and then slowly, calmly, walks over to Mr. Beautiful and just begs him to take a shot. That’s how you play it. Presuming, of course, that you’re not a little girl. No I take that back; my seven year old daughter would definitely have dropped the gloves on anyone that did that to her.

Let’s not let little Messi off the hook either. I get the rage of Ramos at the end of the game. While I don’t condone his kicking Messi in the ankle to relieve the frustration, for the reasons explained above, I get it. But Messi, don’t just flop to the ground and hold your wee little foot! When someone does that to you it’s pretty much Go Time. Stand up and get in his face!! Again, see David Moyes and Charlton Heston, above.

I realize I’m running out of exclamation points here, but that’s the only way I can keep this one family friendly. So to conclude this rant, let me give an award for the most namby pamby player of the match: Congratulations, Carles Puyol!

We’ve already discussed the 80’s hair band coif. But your moment of the match – your el classico “quienes not mas macho” moment – came in the scuffle following Ramos’s kick at Messi. When you walked into the fray, someone PALMED YOUR FACE and shoved you backwards. And what did you do? Do you remember?

Well here’s what I saw. I saw you wrap your hands around your head like a four year old that just ran into a door, and then launch yourself backwards in an attempt to pull off the best back triple lindy since Greg Louganis left half his head on the diving platform in the ‘88 Olympic Games. But no, the embarrassment doesn’t end there, because when you noticed that no one – NO ONE – saw what happened, you popped back up and rejoined the fray in what I can only guess was the hope that you might be lucky enough to draw another face palming. I have three words for you Carles and I’d like you to think about these as deeply and as thoughtfully and as passionately as you can:

You. Little. Princess.

So where do we go from here, Carles? Well, as the kids say, let me drop some knowledge on you. The Real guys are, like you, mostly pretty boys. I realize that you don’t want to actually get into a fight – clearly that might make the post-game inter-squad tickle fight even more awkward than it already is. But perhaps (just a suggestion) you should reconsider having a post-game inter-squad tickle fight to begin with (even here at farlieonfootie we've stopped having them, ever since that buzz-kill James slapped a restraining order on us).

And perhaps next time this happens to you, next time someone disrespects YOUR FACE, I’d like you to think “What would Ray Lewis do in this instance?” Or for short, WWRD? Who’s Ray Lewis? He’s this guy, and he’s even scarier without the helmet:

How would you guess he'd react to a face-palming by a 140 pound diva?

As for me, well, here’s the deal. Next time my friends tell me that I must watch Barca, or that Real is so good, or that the best soccer in the world is La Liga, or that Messi is so special, I’m going to do what I know is right. I’m going to flip through the channels and look for the game that’s being played on the nastiest pitch in front of the smallest crowd with the worst weather and the most profane coaches. If I’m lucky, there might even be poorly drawn devilish image of some random, unheralded gapped toothed Scotsman on the wall. Sure, the football might not be so good, but at least the guys fighting for the ball will be tougher than I am.

This is one of three posts for farlieonfootie for December 4.