A Football Report

The 2011/12 Premier League poem… Comedian (and AFR...

Fri, 25 May 2012 19:17:40 +0100

The 2011/12 Premier League poem…

Comedian (and AFR reader) Spencer Owen sent his brilliant “Premier League poem” our way. The poem reflects on all the madness that unveiled itself over the past nine months. With lines like, “Wigan learned the Premier League is no bed of roses. They survived thanks to the 11th commandment: Thou shalt not sell Moses” we tip our hat to you, Spencer. [posted by EB, Get Involved]

Filling the void: the Yoann Gourcuff story

Fri, 25 May 2012 13:15:00 +0100

By Matthew Richards

With the European Championships on the horizon, Matthew Richards profiles the tumultuous career of Yoann Gourcuff, who was somewhat controversially called up to the most recent French squad, in part one of a look at his remarkable journey that has taken him from France to Milan, and back again.

Ever since Zidane chose to so ignominiously end his career in Berlin, French football has been left with a distinct void. Where Kopa and Platini reigned before the talismanic midfielder, there is now a long line of pretenders to the throne. Just as was the situation in Argentina for many years – though Messi appears to only be a strong World Cup away from near surpassing Maradona – there have been those chosen by the media and professed as the next in line; Henry, Ribéry and Vieira all bearing the responsibility at one point in their careers. Nothing yet, and the search continues. Welcome to Le Jeu des Trônes.

To be compared to Zinedine Zidane is both an honour and a hindrance. The similarities are plain to see: both Gourcuff and Zidane occupy the same area on the field, both burst onto the international scene with Bordeaux, both share the same on-pitch demeanour and style. “Don’t put too much pressure on the guy, and don’t ask him to be the new anybody,” said Zidane. “We can all see he’s very talented.” Here lies the drawback to the comparison. Gourcuff will never be able live up to the potential that others have decided that he has – and this is not to do his career a disservice; not many will ever equal Zidane. The pressure to live up to the mark is immense, and often insurmountable. Time will tell with Gourcuff, and his early appearances for France were promising, as were many of his performances for Bordeaux. If he’s looking to shed the comparison’s he’s often gone about it the wrong way, so good has he been on occasion.

Prior to the outbreak of the humiliating civil war at the World Cup in South Africa, Yoann Gourcuff was thought to be the man to fill the gaping chasm in the French national side. It would, for the nation as for the individual, go horribly wrong, but now Gourcuff is back, and is looking to make an impression on Europe in Poland and Ukraine. He was, for a time, the young darling of French hopes, but has fallen considerably in their estimations. We can first look to Italy in understanding Gourcuff’s remarkable journey of considerable highs, and plunging lows.

“Gourcuff in Milan was 100% wrong,” Paolo Maldini told L’Equipe in 2010. “His problem here was his behaviour. He was not intelligent in the manner of managing himself. When he played here, he did not want to make himself available to the group. He did not start to study Italian immediately”. Certainly Gourcuff is talented, but he also possesses a regrettable tendency to upset the wrong people. The captain of AC Milan; one of the greatest defenders to have played the game, is not someone to trouble.

Gourcuff arrived in Lombardy in the close season in 2006 with minimal fanfare. His €4.58m move from Stade Rennais hardly set the transfer market alight, and with Kaka entering his sublime peak, he was unlikely to feature in the first team in the immediate future. Indeed, his first year at the San Siro reflected this sentiment, as he waited until mid-September to make his league debut, tjhough he did make a late appearance as a substitute in a Champions League third round qualifying tie against Red Star Belgrade in mid-August. The remainder of the season followed a similar pattern, with starts a rarity and substitute appearances increasingly the only way he would make it onto the field.

Gourcuff did, in fairness, make 33 appearances in total during the course of the season; scoring on the final day of Milan’s domestic campaign, and picking up a Champions League winners medal, though he did not feature in Ancelotti’s squad in Athens.

Kaka was at the peak of his abilities: top scorer in European competition, Serie A and UEFA Footballer of the Year, and most notably the Ballon d’Or winner for 2007. He and Gourcuff would play the same position in training, but there could be no complaints as to who should play in the competitive matches. A brooding, young talent, yet to be fully aware of his place in the club’s hierarchy, Gourcuff took issue with his position.

Cracks began to show at the beginning of the next season. “At Milan,” Gourcuff told France Football, “we don’t play the football I am used to. It is more fluid, slower, and more reflective”. The San Siro questioned his attitude, and not without vindication. Carlo Ancelotti, in his autobiography entitled I Prefer The Cup, described Gourcuff as a “strange lad”, who was “egocentric and a little mad”. Later, when he would transfer to Bordeaux after a successful loan spell, the Italian said that “The return of Gourcuff in the Milan jersey will not be easy, even if it is not impossible. It’s a pity, because here he was unable to express himself well, but the problem was only psychological in nature”. Italians spoke; the Frenchman stayed silent. A show of restraint or a lack of objection, Gourcuff probably found himself leaning towards the latter. He was frozen out, and sent back to France; Adriano Galliani stating that the player would be loaned out to FC Girondins de Bordeaux for the whole of the following season.

Asked whether his time at Milan was worthwhile, Gourcuff responded with a dignity that Ancelotti and Maldini failed to afford the situation. “I was very young, just 19, when I went from a small French club (Rennes) to one of the biggest clubs in the world. I had never lived abroad before so it was difficult for me to adapt in a country where I did not speak the language. I was alone and it was difficult, but I began to integrate and I learned a lot. I’m happy that I went to Milan because it helped make me the player that I am”. It is an awareness of progression, through an unfortunate situation, that footballers too often choose to neglect.

The impact of his arrival at Laurent Blanc’s Bordeaux was immediate; as he inspired the club to its first Ligue 1 title in a decade. There was that goal against PSG. “[It] was no accident,” said Christophe Dugarry. “It showed there was something magical about him. I felt ill when Zidane retired. Watching Gourcuff has cured me. When I see players like him, I feel like a small boy again”. Picking up the ball on the edge of the area, Gourcuff pulls a defender across him with two staggering touches, before snapping it back towards the goal to evade a second man running towards him. Rarely are nonchalant flicks hit with such purpose.

He would go on to score a second incredible strike against Toulouse, and the media took notice. Indeed, all of France did. “If Kaka or Ronaldinho had scored that, it would be shown all around the world this week,” said Canal Plus’s commentator, invoking the same plea for recognition that sees wonder goals compared to those of Ronaldo and Messi today. “If he carries on like that,” said Ancelotti, “he’ll be coming back to Milan.”

Gourcuff was a saviour. He had scored fifteen goals, and made the same number of assists. He was awarded the UNFP Ligue 1 Player of the Year as well as a place in the Ligue 1 Team of the Year. Perhaps most satisfying was his 20th place finish in the voting for the 2009 Ballon d’Or. Leonardo replaced Ancelotti at the San Siro, and he and Galliani attempted to woo back the Frenchman – now, Kaka had left for Madrid. Bordeaux never hesitated to take up the option to buy Gourcuff: as Milan circled, club president Jean-Louis Triaud was clear. “We have an option to buy him and it’s very simple: if we sign the cheque, he’s our player.”

Gourcuff had earned the odd international call-up since France’s humiliating showing at the European Championships in 2008, but it was during a time when the French national team was in major transition. His rise since was irresistible. Predictably, Raymond Domenech came calling again as France prepared for the World Cup.

Part two of this story - focussing on Gourcuff’s international career, and turbulent times with Lyon – will appear next week. Matt also writes for The Substitution.

If England won everything… After watching this EURO 2012...

Fri, 25 May 2012 05:53:32 +0100

If England won everything…

After watching this EURO 2012 spot for ITV, it’s safe to say that if England were hugely successful on the international stage, then they would be absolutely insufferable. Think about it. The English press already thinks that England perpetually has the best team in the world. It’s a nice mentality, when the other alternative is perpetual pessimism. But it’s also entirely too delusional for any rational person to bear for an extended period of time. Nevertheless, the Euro is going to be here before you know it, so it’s about time to quote Inception and dream a little bigger, darling. [posted by EB]

King Rémi is back! Missed him? Rémi GAILLARD is the...

Tue, 22 May 2012 21:40:00 +0100

King Rémi is back!

Missed him? Rémi GAILLARD is the unforgettable YouTube legend and football freestyle wizard; world renowned for his ‘Mario Kart’ and ‘Rocky’ sketches, alongside disguising himself as player when Lorient won the 2002 Coupe de France. Despite being a humourous prankster, Rémi also frequently displays crazy football skills in yellow shoes which have become a trademark.

In his latest video “FOOT 12”, Gaillard jointly celebrates Montpellier’s Ligue 1 title victory, his home-town club, alongside demonstrating his genuine talent for the beautiful game. The philosophy behind his work is omnipresent, which reads “C’est en faisant n’importe quoi qu’on devient n’importe qui” - It’s by doing anything, that one becomes anybody. [posted by DV]

FC Barcelona’s kits for the 2012/13 season have caused...

Tue, 22 May 2012 11:42:00 +0100

FC Barcelona’s kits for the 2012/13 season have caused quite a stir (official photos from the launch are above; home on far left, away middle, goalkeeper right) – indeed, as have many of Nike’s designs for the upcoming season.

It’s a departure from the traditional vertical stripes which has provoked contrasting reactions from supporters, with the home kit appearing to verge on PSG territory, but what do you think of Barcelona’s new look?

Letters from Shanghai: The mediocrity remains, but is Drogba on the horizon?

Tue, 22 May 2012 04:42:08 +0100

By Andrew Crawford, writing from Shanghai

The dust has started to settle on the ugly coup that ousted Jean Tigana from the Shanghai Shenhua dug out last month- but that doesn’t mean things have improved.

Shenhua’s last game, another dull, uninspiring 0-0 draw against Shanghai Shenxin at the Hongkou was the fourth game in a row that the former have gone without scoring a goal. The team is currently two points from the relegation zone with a third of the season played. Their expected saviour, Nicolas Anelka has not scored since early April whilst the rest of his team mates look jaded and nervous, especially when playing infront of their home crowd. It is perhaps a backhanded compliment to the team that their best player so far has been the young goal keeper, Wang Dalei.

These days, Shenhua have a manager on the sidelines rather than on the pitch, and after Anelka’s brief managerial stint ended in disaster; the former Democratic Republic of Congo coach, Jean-Florent Ibenge, is nominally in charge. The word ‘nominal’ is important because it’s difficult to say exactly how much sway Ibenge has in the dressing room. Anelka, both by status and salary, is untouchable whilst the club’s chairman, Zhu Jun is frequently unpredictable and reactionary so it is safe to say that the new man won’t be doing too much to rock the boat.

Yet, the coaching change, rather than relieve the pressure on the misfiring playing staff, has brought into focus the problems that consecutive managers have had getting results out of the team. Firstly, the continuing injury crisis has not abated and an already weak defensive line is looking increasingly porous as defenders drop like flies.

Secondly, the overseas recruits simply aren’t cutting it. Anelka and Australian, Joel Griffiths have struggled to stay match fit and have combined for a total of four goals this season. The third striker, Mathieu Manset, a loan-signing from Reading has been a complete disaster and trundles around the pitch with the grace and elegance of a grand piano slowly rolling down a hill. In midfield, Bosnian midfielder, Mario Bozic, found somewhere in the Israeli first division is applauded for his passion but little else.

There is now growing talk of Didier Drogba finally arriving in Shanghai (one of the stadium shops has even begun selling shirts with his name on the back) but the on-off transfer saga with the striker has left many fans weary. Even if he does arrive, which credible outlets in the city believe to be the case, it would mean that Shenhua’s three best strikers would have a combined age of close to one hundred years old. Evidently, there is still a lot of money in the Shanghai coffers, but not a lot of common sense.

Having only won two out of their first ten games, Shanghai must now travel up to northern China to play Henan Jianye, a traditional middle-ranking team in Chinese football who are only a point above the relegation zone.

Win, and the team gets momentum for the trickier games against Guizhou Renhe and Changchun Yatai that come after Henan. A loss would see Shenhua drift further towards the basement and possibly into the relegation spots. Anelka needs to find some goals and quickly.

On Chelsea and deservedness

Mon, 21 May 2012 10:36:00 +0100

By Max Grieve

Munich rocked; the Allianz Arena shaking in anticipation of the final whistle. It would come, as it always does, but brought with it a fresh burden. Drogba rose to meet the corner; Drogba fell back to earth, and sent millions into raptures. Thousands watched on in the city centre as the boom broke, and the Bayern support were plunged into a silence.

Deeper still into the match, Chelsea must have sensed that their remarkable run of fortune had come to an end. Beyond Robben’s missed penalty, Bayern found themselves 3-1 up in the shoot-out. Then, the tired clichés of Germany and spot-kicks collapsed. Ivica Olic was denied, and Bastian Schweinsteiger smacked his shot against the post. John Terry was safely confined to the stands, and Dider Drogba, rather than slip at the crucial time, sent Neuer the wrong way with cold perfection.

To a point, the result seems wrong. Chelsea won; their name was being engraved on the trophy as Drogba’s penalty settled in the back of the net, but it was always in Bayern’s control. Said Jens Lehmann following the loss to Dortmund last week; “I can’t see them making this many mistakes again. They’ll play with anger and even more determination. I’m rather optimistic about their chances.”

Neither was reflected in Bayern’s approach, and they lost. There must be an admiration for the character showed under such phenomenal intimidation, in this match, and those preceding it. Down 3-1 from the first leg in Napoli, they scored four at Stamford Bridge. They survived a late scare against Benfica. Then Barcelona came calling. The other view of Chelsea’s triumph in this competition is, rather than an appreciation of spirit, that they have surrendered any enthusiasm for playing the game in a way that might inspire the millions. It is a view that would suggest that Di Matteo instructed an “anti-football” strategy, and concludes that Chelsea were undeserving winners.

Except that they weren’t. Not at all. It is a football competition, the Champions League, and the rules of the game are the same (bar the allowed modifications) as they are for any football match played on the planet. Let us take the match against Barcelona; it is perhaps the most relevant example. Given the turbulent season that they have had, it seemed near impossible that Chelsea could progress against the best club side in recent times, and arguably in the history of football. Yet they did; and were roundly criticised for it. Faced with the most surgical, most beautiful, most awesome football played on the planet, what were Chelsea supposed to do?

“Anti-football”, as a concept, is illegitimate from the outset. If we disregard John Terry’s rush of blood to the head, Chelsea played entirely within the rules. The majority of the statistics favoured Barcelona overwhelmingly, but there were a normal number of fouls, and only a handful of yellow cards, over the two matches. Certainly Chelsea failed to play beautiful football, but to what point does beauty trump a result? There surely can’t be many football fans who would pass up the European Cup, or the league, for the sake of a few shouts of “olé”.

Chelsea did not travel to Munich to entertain; we should have known as much. Munich, likewise, did not take to the field with the ambition of playing what is considered by many to be beautiful football; indeed, those familiar with Jupp Heynckes’ style will know that Bayern rarely play with an established “plan”, as such. Rather, both sides were looking to win – they just went about it in contrasting ways.

They must have known that they would be pilloried for their style, but Fernando Torres was right: “The better side doesn’t always win”. Chelsea have won the Champions League often inspired by the undoubtedly negative catenaccio approach, but they have won it all the same, and it’s difficult thing to do. If we are to find a genuine fault with the way Chelsea achieved this victory, perhaps we should look to the hundreds of millions poured into the side and ask why they didn’t win it earlier. The answer is simple: money can buy sensational individuals, but it can’t buy an entire footballing philosophy – unless, of course, Abramovich is looking to uproot the Camp Nou and drop it on London.

Bayern, on statistics and the nature of the match, probably deserved to win. The fact is that they didn’t, and the world exploded in both outrage and ecstasy. After the final whistled sounded, the Bayern players and staff immediately went to their end-of-season function in Munich’s city centre, and partied like it was 1999. It’s a good joke, and one which Bavarian newspapers would have hoped to avoid. With it, they wrote of the injustice Bayern suffered at the hands of a team that displayed a brutal insensitivity towards a particular style of football. How dare they play in a way that might see them win!

To criticise Chelsea of playing “anti-football” is wrong; they are completely deserving of their victory. You would be forgiven for thinking that many people watched an entirely different match to the one at the Allianz Arena on Saturday night, which was played with a ball on grass, with twenty-two players evenly divided into two teams as the rules of the game dictate. Anti-football? Condemning it as such is anti-football in itself.

The aftermath of losing… There’s losing, and then...

Sun, 20 May 2012 13:19:00 +0100

The aftermath of losing…

There’s losing, and then there’s losing when you’re winning. The Champions League final in Munich was a game of inches, and both sides should be able to reflect upon it with their head held high. Bayern, most likely, will choose not to. Chelsea soaked up pressure, as they had hoped to, but Bayern failed to capitalise on their supremacy. In the end, tens of thousands inside the Allianz Arena, and millions watching across the world, had every right to be in an strangely dignified state of despair. Bayern had dominated the match, but were uncharacteristically wasteful. Petr Cech and Dider Drogba played the heroes, as they have often done, and in the wake of this victory, Chelsea supporters may well be calling for their statues outside Stamford Bridge. As with the loss in 1999, the unthinkable pain that accompanies this missed opportunity will likely stay with Bayern for years. [posted by MG]

Drogba's Dream: The Last Charge of the Ancients

Sun, 20 May 2012 05:09:31 +0100

By Jordan Brown

Didier Drogba emerged from the confines of his tent to the thrum of a busy camp. All around him the army of Chelsea were preparing for war. Infantrymen were rushing to formation, their tall pikes bobbing rhythmically as they ran. Plated warhorses stomped and bit at paiges checking the readiness of mounts, bowmen were fitting their strings and chatting nervously in small circles while the sounds of grinding steel poured from the row of armorers keening the edges of hundreds. Smoke and fire, sweat and leather, wood and steel, Drogba closed his eyes and breathed in deep - savoring the air of battle. It would be his last.

The thought of his waiting men broke him from his reverie and he set off, joining the rushing humanity of the camp. The blue livery of his army made like a river flowing down muddy paths, wearing the telling lines of man’s device into the rich green valleys of Bavaria.

It was a miracle they were even moving at all. Not so long before the army had been in Catalonia, and the experience had nearly ended them. The whole of the known world had expected them to falter in the Spanish leg of their campaign. Wave after wave of Barcelona’s attacks had broken upon their ranks. Halfway through their battle, the venerable Iniesta led his troops into a thrust which had seemingly put the Londoners paid. But tired and outnumbered, the strength of The Blues remained steadfast, and they found that their resolution outlasted the Blaugranas, and the late charge of the nigh forgotten General Torres shocked living world of their expectations. Chelsea would march from victory to Munchen.

There, before the Starnberg and the Ammersee - just east of Gauting—Didier Drogba went his line. Men began to pay notice. Some stopped to watch his passage, while other took knee - honoring what they knew to be the final preparations he would make for battle.

As he climbed his mount, the world around him seemed to still, as if anticipating his every move. He loomed high in the saddle, a full head above the men to his side. He was glorious - glowing in the polished steel of his plate the blue Lion Rampant blazing out from his chest. He pulled his horse to face the crowd. As he did, the sun broke out from behind the peaks of Austria, setting the sky aflame and silhouetting his tall frame against the gates of the city. He let the hush of his men sit but momentarily before bellowing deep from his chest a howl which would set the dead back into the earth. Well before he ceased, his cry was echoed from man to man, carried along both sides of the front line until the whole host of the Blue Army swelled with sound, filling the air with their collected presence.

________________

The plan of Field Marshall De Matteo was not so different from their win in Spain. The army of Chelsea would hold the Germans in their middle line, disrupting support for the wide vanguard of Gomez. Light and heavy cavalry would support the middle and break towards Bayern’s rear lines quickly given the opening, and strike directly into the Sendlinger Tor - the gateway to Munich.

The two ends of the Bayern line were the Marshalls Robben and Ribery. It was said their animosity kept them so far from each other in the field - they had so often quarreled in the open. Their danger was far more real to their enemies though, their men would fall with grace and speed into any opening offered. De Matteo hoped to draw them down into the waiting lines of Cole and Bosingwa, leaving lanes of entry for his own wide forces of young Sturridge and the veteran Kalou.

Drogba knew this all from their weeks of preparation, as he watched his battalion move into place ahead of his own Lampard’s infantry. He trusted the theory of De Matteo’s plan, but was wary of the last line of their forces. As he turned his mount south on Neuried hill, he looked back towards the command at Gauting. Though it was too far, in his mind’s eye he could see Ser John Terry, bound in chains next to their Marshall. His disgrace at Barcelona ruled him out of this final march. For as long as his time with Chelsea, Didier Drogba had felt the support of Terry, who kept the line of their defense strong - even in the face of many doubts and torrid accusations. This last misdeed was one too many, though. Terry, who was the captain of all the Blues would only watch as the destiny he wrought unfolded before him - cursed to know that had he chosen honor over guile, he would have led this day.

Drogba’s cavalry settled into swift trot. Behind them marched a sea of Chelsea blue, throwing a great cloud of dust and sound into the sky. For minutes that seemed like hours, they saw no one. The lease farms and collectives leading towards the city were silent. Drogba could sense the anxiety welling in his ranks, each step they took filling their minds with ends and outcomes. Every passing moment left a clearer impression of mortality in each mind.

As they neared the Sendling, Drogba began to tense. It was a low plain, plotted with trees on all sides with a narrow pond in its midst. It was open and still. He knew as his company came in, that this was where it would begin.

Just steps in, horns rang out from the north and south-east. Robben and Ribery had been spotted. Drogba would not have been able to see but their lances were at full tilt, racing towards the Chelsea line. What he did see was what seemed to him a red wall. It was thousands deep and racing towards him. As they came Drogba could see their banners, wide in the morning sun—Gomez, Mueller, Kroos, and Schweinsteiger. The Germans had come.

________________

The army of Bayern had the immediate advantage. They had chosen the place of engagement, placing their initial waves of attack around either side of Drogba’s vanguard. Two brigades led by the canny brigadegeneral general Mueller and Schweinsteiger fell upon Chelsea’s middle lines swiftly and with such precision. The move had forced Lampard’s battalion to hold deep, combining with the infantry of Obi Mikel to match forces with the Germans.

In concert with Bayern’s move toward the center, the extreme flanks of their forces took full use of their early initiative. Robben and Ribery’s lanced cavalry had passed the attacking wings of Chelsea’s own army, and reached the deep line of the blue forces. Robben harried brigadier Cole on the left, while Ribery came upon Bosingwa’s right.

Whereas the Blues had come to Munich to strike at the Germans, circumstance had turned against them. The organization and movement of the Bayern forces was fluid and efficient. To Drogba, they seemed a machine. They attacked with direct purpose, exploiting the spaces in the lines afforded by the Sendling’s width. When the young Sturridge attempted to exploit the lane left by Ribery’s thrust, it was immediately closed by Lahm, with Kroos’ battalion in support. When Lampard broke forward, attempting to release Mata from his reinforcement to move towards the deeper German lines, Schweinsteiger refused the light cavalry of Mueller off his right who rounded and stifled the advance in its infancy.

Exhaustion began to weigh upon the Blue forces. As the sun began to set behind the Schwarzwald Range and into the great Rhine beneath it, a red glow seeped across the sky—the last of its blue having bled away. At the sight, a cheer rose from the Germans. They took the sign to heart, pressing deeper and forcing Chelsea into two staggered lines.

Frustration began to build in Drogba. This was not battle he had seen for his comrades on their journey. He had spent the majority of the engagement supporting his own army’s middle and wings, riding from one call for aid to another. So often that day, his intervention had been the difference between the hold or collapse of a line.

As the roar of Bayern’s cheers rose, Robben cut his lancers inward - racing to link with Gomez at the center of Chelsea’s deep line. The whole of the battlefield sensed the moment - the wide extremes of the German defense leapt from their entrenchments and charged in. Their generalmajor Lahm on the left moved in boldly, past the Chelsea middle lines. The triumvirate midfield moved forward, Mueller at the front, wedging the gap between Lampard and Mikel. Drogba watched the move in desperation - sensing the imminent break of his Chelsea.

Robben was nearing Gomez and if they met, their combined move would surely run through. In a move of desperation, the battalion of Luiz charged from their place in the line to cut into Robben. It as the shrewd Dutchman had planned; he’d made an opening for Gomez to exploit. When Luiz reached him, his ranks would break as if felled by the attack only to regroup behind the slower infantry and race in with the vanguard.

When the force of Luiz struck, it came off exactly to Robben’s designs. His scattered light cavalry - who for a time seemed disrupted - rounded quickly to the left of Luiz, collecting again into an organized force. Just Robben was to make for Chelsea’s defensive gap, the forgotten Cole rode his mounted men directly into the Dutchman’s flank. Cole had seen far more than the young Luiz, enough to the simulacrum of defeat from it’s truth. Gomez’s mounted charge continued alone, only to be met by the pikemen under Cahill. They cut into the cavalry, with the English commander himself unhorsing, who fell with a shout of disbelief.

Suddenly the moment had changed. A cheer rose among the Blues, as Kalou and Mata shot forward toward the city. The Germans had overcommitted, leaving only Tymoshchuk, Boateng, and Neuer who stood his force before the Sendlinger Tor. Drogba had the best of them all though, the moment he saw Cole’s move to Robben, he charged in behind Lahm’s reckless advance, and straight on to the city gates.

He felt alive then. The thoughts of defeat and the heavy weight of mortality left him. He had lost the sounds of battle - the crashing metal and screams were all drowned by the crashing roar of a cavalry two thousand strong. In the midst of that din, Drogba sank within himself - he felt no fear or anger. He could see death in the sharp maw of the spears and arrows before him, but in that time, he knew only victory. He would reach the Tor, and he would reach it first.

The line of Boateng and Tymoshchuk were faced with three oncoming columns of cavalry whose oncoming speed was such that there was no time for coordination. The commanders moved with instinct and moved out in one simultaneous motion. Boateng went for the Spaniard Mata, and Tymoshchuk for the nearer Kalou. They knew then, as they engaged their chosen foes, that the battle’s fate rested with Neuer at the gate.

Drogba spurred to the front of his column and curled its racing thunder to strike the very center of Neuer’s formation. The ground seemed to curve up beneath him as if the world had begun to turn faster in its heavenly spin, pulling Drogba to the Tor and its protector with all the inertia of a hurricane. He raised his sword to line with the attached gaze of the German defender.

Moments away from collision Drogba roared as he’d done at the day’s start, it came from deep within him - borne of all the years of service and resolution, from all the missed chances and dashed expectations. As his arm came down to strike, the moment stretched and Drogba knew. He knew that Chelsea would finally take their glory denied, and it would come at his hand.

Will Bayern make it a blue day in Munich for Chelsea? The bloggers think so...

Sat, 19 May 2012 18:24:00 +0100

It’s not quite what we expected. Bayern Munich edged past Real Madrid in a penalty shoot-out of epically comic proportions, and Chelsea saw off Barcelona in an incredible encounter at the Camp Nou. Now, the teams that beat arguably the best club sides in world football meet at the Allianz Arena in Munich, where Bayern will look to draw level with Liverpool on European Cups won, and Chelsea are after their first. Roberto Di Matteo has seen his side to a sixth-place finish in the league, but that matters little: if Chelsea win tonight, Tottenham, despite snatching fourth, will not qualify for the Champions League. The match has been overshadowed somewhat by the suspensions of key players on either side, and a refusal by UEFA to adapt the rules of the competition means that Terry, Badstuber, Ramires, Alaba, Ivanovic, Gustavo and Meireles all sit this one out. Bayern are regarded as favourites to lift the cup in their home stadium, but Chelsea pose a threat as underdogs, and have overcome greater obstacles on their way to this final. It promises to be a fascinating encounter.

Some of the writers at AFR, alongside a selection of talented bloggers have put their heads on the chopping block, and share their predictions for the final with you here.

Max Grieve – editor of The Substitution and contributor to AFR, Bayern Munich 3-1 Chelsea

Firstly, we need to forget the score in the DFB-Pokal from earlier in the week, where Borussia Dormund beat Bayern 5-2. There appears to be only one side in European football at the moment that has repeatedly proven themselves capable of handling Robben, Ribery and friends, and that’s Dortmund. Luckily for Bayern, it’s Chelsea they’ll be playing in the final, and although Roberto Di Matteo has turned the Blues’ season spectacularly around, it’s hard to look past some of the incredible fortune that they’ve enjoyed over the last couple of months. Bayern players and fans are running scared of a dangerous Dider Drogba, but a tendency to condense play when up against arguably superior opposition will hurt Chelsea: Bayern’s wingers will revel in any given space (though I don’t think either will score). Lahm, too, should be threatening in attack. I’d expect to see Mario Gomez’s name on the scoresheet – he’s scored every 96 minutes in the Champions League this season, so Chelsea will be hoping that there’s not too much injury-time (I know that’s not how it works).

That said, the llama backed Chelsea.

Mohamed Moallim, Bayern Munich 3-1 Chelsea

Despite their woeful defensive performance against Borussia Dortmund, much of it self-inflicted, Bayern I feel will triumph. Chelsea doesn’t play with the same intensity and dynamism as Jürgen Klopp’s side so will have to trouble Bayern in another way. The absence of Ramires could be pivotal. The German side have their own concerns: no Holger Badstuber, Luiz Gustavo (who didn’t exactly cover himself in glory against BVB) and David Alaba - harshly yellow carded against Real Madrid. So, attack will be the best form of defence for Jupp Heynckes; this is where Arjen Robben and Franck Ribéry come into play. The two I feel will win the game. Ashley Cole against the Frenchman will be an early taste of their potential duel in Donetsk, the dynamic duo often swaps flanks, which means an evening José Bosingwa cannot afford to be lackadaisical. Or it will be nighttime Robbery.

Daniel Colasimone, Argentina Football World, Bayern Munich 3-1 Chelsea

Obviously anything can happen in a one-off match (literally anything), but I really think Bayern will cruise to victory in this one. Chelsea have relied on all their experience, pluck and rat cunning to make it this far, but winning the final is just a bit beyond their limitations, especially considering the players they will be missing. I expect Bayern to come out all guns blazing and take an early lead through Mario Gomez. From that point on, Chelsea will be forced to come at them, and Bayern will be able to pick them off on the counter. Ribery and Robben to pick up a goal each to seal a comfortable 3-0 win for the Germans.

Kickette – Kickette.com

Why, exactly, are we going with the Germans when there’s a talented English team for us to support? Simply put, one is easier to get behind than the other. Ba-dum-cha! But seriously, both teams will be rocking adidas kits for the final, so there’s bound to be some supremely awesome short tent sightings throughout Saturday’s 90 minutes of play. Which makes us and our readers the real winners here.

Kyle Elliot, footy-boots.com, Bayern 2-1 Chelsea

“History is made by those who show up” according to the famous quote from to former British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli.

However, when Chelsea meet Bayern Munich at the Allianz this Saturday, the overwhelming feeling is that those who are unable to ‘show up’, via either suspension or injury, will be the ones most talked about when the final whistle blows at the 2012 UEFA Champions League final.

With Bayern Munich both teams suffering many losses of players - the overall winner will likely be the one which adapts to it’s missing personnel quickest. Chelsea’s duct-tape defense has the unenviable task of subduing a Bayern triple-threat from Gomez, Ribery and Robben, and with no Ramires to offer extra running power on the wings, Jose Bosingwa could prove easy-pickings for the Franck Ribery eager to make something of an otherwise forgettable season.

All that said, Chelsea have shown nothing on the road in Europe this season if not grit and determination, and if Di Matteo can make recapturing the siege-spirit of the Camp Nou his last managerial miracle at Chelsea, then the final in Munich could prove to be the one that puts the blue ghosts of Moscow to rest. Prediction: Both teams will come out the blocks quickly, playing direct, attacking football resulting in an early goal each. After half-time, Bayern will wear down the Chelsea defense, Gomez slots in a cross from either Ribery or Robben and it finishes 2-1.

Keith Hickey, kckrs.com, Bayern 4-2 Chelsea

I really can’t look past Bayern for this one, but I do expect lots of goals along the way. There will be important defensive players missing on both sides, and some of fantastic attacking talent available to take advantage of the makeshift back lines. Didier Drogba will run all over a Munich defense lacking Badstuber, and Mata will see plenty of the ball against a patchwork defensive midfield, but I have a hunch the weapons at Bayern’s disposal, especially the wide players Ribery and Robben, will be too much for the Londoners. Expect (or at least hope for!) something crazy, like a 4-2.

[Posted by MG]

Sat, 19 May 2012 05:41:00 +0100

[Posted by MG]

Football’s about to get really important. The Champions...

Fri, 18 May 2012 06:15:00 +0100

Football’s about to get really important. The Champions League final looms, and the European Championships are not so far away either. Millions will be euphoric; millions will be heartbroken, and the way one’s emotions swing depends as much on the 22 players out on the field as the man in the middle. If you find yourself with a spare half-hour, make sure to watch the Swedish documentary The Referee – you might think twice before launching another volley of abuse at the television over the coming weeks. [Posted by MG]

“Respect who you’re playing against, if you...

Fri, 18 May 2012 00:22:00 +0100

“Respect who you’re playing against, if you don’t, for sure you’ll lose.”

Says the legend who always played with no fear between the posts. Euro 1992 champion and former Manchester United star Peter Schmeichel has been appointed as Carlsberg’s Global Ambassador for Euro 2012. ‘The Great Dane’ shares his mental perspective on how he became one of the greatest goalkeepers of all time and a hero for Denmark. Remember his semi-final penalty save against the phenomenal Van Basten? Historic. [Posted by DV]

Losses and llamas: a complicated week at Bayern Munich

Thu, 17 May 2012 14:36:00 +0100

By Max Grieve

Jupp Heynckes was, to a point, playing the fool, but there was a grim undertone to his comments. “I have watched and coached in the Spanish League,” he declared earlier in the week. “I know how hard it is to beat Barcelona. And now I’m left to wonder if Barça can’t beat Chelsea, how can we?”

Certainly Bayern Munich’s loss to Borussia Dortmund in the DFB-Pokal Final at the weekend has furthered the perception, in English-language media especially, that Chelsea could well trouble the Bavarians. And there is an element of truth to this thought: internal struggles, occasionally catastrophic defending, and a creeping sense of self-doubt is beginning to damage what has been, by most standards, a phenomenal season. Bayern have finished second in the Bundesliga to a side that had to break the points total record to better them. They came runners-up in the one domestic cup, and are in a Champions League final. Rather than marvel at the progress they have made, however, they will be more inclined to reflect upon their failings.

At the Olympiastadion in Berlin, Bayern, quite simply, didn’t look like Bayern. An early goal from Shinji Kagawa, on whom Sir Alex Ferguson’s eyes were firmly fixed, sparked an electric performance from Dortmund. They were stunning. Indeed, the entire spectacle was so. Schweinsteiger, Robben, Ribery, Gomez, Lahm, Neuer – each one was shaken by the result. Jurgen Klopp danced across towards the banks of yellow and black in the stands, whilst Jupp Heynckes scribbled on paper with his assistant. It was comprehensive, and gave life to the notion that Chelsea, who have frequently relied on good fortune and crossbars during Di Matteo’s time, could further compound Bavarian misery. Such as with much of Michael Ballack’s career, this season could end with Bayern playing the role of bridesmaid all too often.

There is a strong suggestion that there is only one side in Europe who have exerted a dominance over Bayern over the past few years; the same that they lost to both in the race for the Bundesliga, and the DFB-Pokal. They have tended to play at a high tempo when they have met, with neither coach particularly intent on playing the other’s game.

Bayern’s style has relied heavily on their wide play, and it is unsurprising that 41 of their league goals have either been scored or assisted by Robben or Ribery. Against Dortmund, save for a brilliant goal from the Frenchman, both failed to influence the match as they have proven they can do on many occasions. The Bavarians’ game is based on possession, though they struggled to retain the ball when faced with suffocating pressure from their opponents. What now needs to be remembered is that Bayern Munich are not playing Borussia Dortmund on Saturday night. They are, of course, playing a completely different opponent in Chelsea.

Unlike Dortmund, Chelsea may not be so inclined as to approach the match with such glaring attacking intentions. Chelsea won’t press so intensely, and haven’t done since Andre Villas-Boas was fired, so will likely sit deep; inviting Bayern forward as they did with Barcelona. Mario Gomez is significantly more dangerous in the air than any of Barcelona’s forwards, however, so if Chelsea are to attack on the counter, they must attempt to stifle Bayern’s wide play to avoid the aerial threat that Gomez carries. It is a fascinating tactical encounter; and should be far less cut-and-thrust than the final of the DFB-Pokal should Chelsea hold to their strategy. Then there are the internal struggles: writes Rapahel Honigstein, “There is a danger that not-so-hidden rifts inside the dressing room might come to the fore again. The longer Chelsea can keep the score level, the more Bayern will be affected mentally.”

The stakes could not be higher: indeed, a loss at their home stadium could be more emotionally damaging than “that night in Barcelona” in 1999. One must be careful when taking recent domestic failures into account in predicting the outcome of this final, however. “I can’t see them making this many mistakes again,” said Jens Lehmann following the loss to Dortmund. “They’ll play with anger and even more determination next week. I’m rather optimistic about their chances.”

More important, naturally, is what a llama thinks. By pushing a blue football, rather than a red one, off a stick in his stable, Nicholas the llama has confirmed that Chelsea will be European champions – and who could question his judgment, having already correctly predicted the FA Cup final result?

Said owner Linda Johnson, “Llamas don’t do anything in a rush and Nicholas took about two minutes to decide. He had a think about it, and a wander round, and then he came up and pushed the blue ball off with his nose. Llamas are highly intelligent and very observant - he is much brighter than an octopus.”

Eight prophetic, slippery tentacles rolled in a watery grave. Bayern will be determined not to let this season end on a sour note and, until last week, many would have imagined that they were almost assured of victory come Saturday. The result in the DFB-Pokal has afforded Chelsea something of a respite in the media, and they will travel to Munich with a public believing that the seemingly impossible is now rather the opposite.

Positives are being drawn from their previous performance: “Perhaps a little bit of humilty is not a bad thing”, Uli Hoeness said. A 5-2 defeat in a cup final naturally puts a dampener on spirits, but there can be little doubt that Bayern will be the side with more to lose at the Allianz Arena.

Nicholas the llama was confident in his prediction. He chose Chelsea with emphatic self-asssurance. It wouldn’t be in the least bit surprising to learn that he has only watched Bayern in the DFB-Pokal, and nothing else. Others, who watched an incredible performance against Real Madrid, and a number of dominant displays in the Bundesliga, will know that judging Bayern by the scoreline in their last match is dangerous.

In the end, of course, it is a final, where most believe anything can happen. Perhaps a llama pushing a ball off a stick is as good an indicator of a winner as anything. Anything can conceivably happen. Bayern though, at this crucial point in their illustrious history, will be dogged in determining what does.

ASEC Mimosas: Ivory Coast’s Football Factory?

Thu, 17 May 2012 07:18:00 +0100

By John Ray, follow on Twitter.

“Les Elephants”, the footballers of the Ivory Coast, help captivate and enthrall a nation while playing against Madagascar: large outdoor television flicker and the metropolis of Abidjan rustles. Arouna Kone (PSV) crosses to Salomon Kalou (Chelsea) at the edge of the area; the supporters swell in deliverance as he belts the ball into the Malagasy net. There are chants and dances to the djembe drum in the stands and in Abidjan; life in the country is good. A month later the stadium is empty, except for a smattering of people around the halfway line. ASEC Mimosas, the Ivory Coast’s most successful team, are playing a match, but no one seems to care. Ivorian international football has always had the capacity to unite and excite the nation, but interest in domestic football has gradually shrunk to null as the push for Europe has consumed the clubs. ASEC and its academy provide a perfect example of the effects (good and bad) of what is, for the lack of a better term, player commoditization.

In 1993 Jean-Marc Guillou founded Academie de Sol Beni as the reserve team for ASEC Mimosas with the explicit purpose of educating players and setting them up to move to Europe. The club, in the heart of Abidjan, has come to represent a massive chance for young Ivorian footballers to achieve an altogether more glamorous life, evidenced by the academy’s “Philosophy of Work”: ”a 17 or 18 year old player has a great opportunity playing in the African Champions League as it is the competition most watched by foreign clubs (translated).” This outspoken objective of developing players as exports has proven to be successful and produced many stars (the Toure brothers, Kalou, Gervinho, and Romaric) from the “crown jewel” of African academies. The rigor of the program helps partially explain why the club has produced so many top players. Tutelages train two times a day and are up working on either school or football from 6:30 AM-8:30 PM learning how to become a better professional. The club focuses on scouting mentality then working on aspects of the game that can be more easily taught. This idea lies at the root of the intensive training and creates an atmosphere where players learn collaboratively instead of constantly competing to prove themselves. Within 5 years of implementation this youth philosophy paid huge dividends, as some of the first products of the academy led ASEC to win the African Champions League. European scouts caught on and began putting in transfers for young players. They have not been to the finals since.

The football export industry is not all sunshine for the players either. The divergent fortunes of Ivorians sent to Europe became apparent when Guillou transferred 14 members of ASEC to play for (his new club) Belgium’s KSK Beveren in 2003. This link was supposed to be good for the players and the club, giving them European experience and a better platform to succeed, but it has retrospectively symbolized the exploitation of young players as for personal gain. Gulliou’s vision for personal success brought teenagers to a continent they have never visited as (comparatively) low-wage workers and expected them to sink or swim at a small team in Belgium. The move had numerous successes: Gilles Yapi Yapo, Romaric, and Eboue all became big hits in Europe shortly after, but the failures were left by the way side and expected to adapt in a country 7000km from home without the financial resources to go back to the Ivory Coast.

The story of Mohammed Diallo tells a more “typical” turn of events: After playing for Beveren for three years he was sold to FC Sion and then loaned out to an Israeli club. 2 years later he was out of contract with Sion and played in the very lowest French leagues before going all the way back to Africa to play for Ajax Cape Town as a 26 year old. The immense pressure of knowing that an opportunity might be your last surely crumpled many players, but many were just not ready to move away from home at the age of 17. The harsh reality of football quickly set in for many of the young elephants.

The question then becomes: Whom or what does sending players abroad benefit? Other than the players who make it and the clubs receiving them it is really hard to say. In theory the transfer money should be reinvested and make Ivorian football better, but with a demanding schedule and low attendance much of the return is needed just to maintain upkeep. If ASEC Abidjan could draw even half of the Houphouet-Boigny stadium (with a capacity of 35,000) they would not have to rely on transfer fees and would be able to retain some players and improve the product. The demise of the domestic league is cyclical, but it seems to be accepted as a harsh reality of sport in the developing world. The lure of quick money has again triumphed over long-term gains. In an interview with BBC, ASEC coach Xavier Minougou stated, “If Europeans have more money and come and buy our players, I think it’s good for Africa.” Practice has proved this to be incorrect. In keeping many of its best players, the South African premier league has been able to attract comparatively massive crowds and bring in players from all around Africa. If ASEC could retain even a few of their immensely talented players (wonderkids Wilfried Zaha and Abdul Razak trained at the club) things might begin to change for the better. As it is they are stuck in the paradox of football in the developing world: as more talent is sold, domestic football becomes worse.

John Ray is a recent graduate of Pitzer College in California, where he studied Political Psychology. He also writes about the beautiful game on his Tumblr.

Eric Hassli has done it again. Remember his unbelievable hit...

Thu, 17 May 2012 06:55:36 +0100

Eric Hassli has done it again.

Remember his unbelievable hit from last year? Well, it wasn’t a fluke. Eric Hassli pulled it off again in the first leg of the Canadian Championship finals between the Vancouver Whitecaps and Toronto FC last night. In injury time, Hassli’s right-footed strike had so much power that it actually made you feel for the net, nevermind the goalkeeper.

On Barcelona, Madrid and Stalin

Wed, 16 May 2012 00:03:00 +0100

By Max Grieve

In Bilbao, Real Madrid won the title for the first time in four years, whilst at the Camp Nou Lionel Messi equalled, then surpassed, the record for the most goals scored in a European season. The Spanish newspapers would have you believe that only one or the other of these happened, of course.

“El Mejor!” Marca’s front page screams the following morning – “The Best”. Mourinho is thrown into the air, one finger raised, and images of a euphoric Ronaldo are splashed below the headlines. In Barcelona, El Mundo Deportivo pays tribute to “Torpedo Messi”, and the little Argentine is seen lifting the ball over Carlos Kameni to score his third – Barcelona’s fourth – to scratch Gerd Müller’s name from the 39-year-old record.

Below the singing Xabi Alonso, below the elated Iker Casillas, below the hoards dancing in the Plaza de Cibeles, a box the same size as the neighbouring advertisement for the new Subaru XV acknowledges that Barcelona have played. Even then, the image accompanying the scoreline is one of a rueful Guardiola. In the smallest type imaginable for the front page of a national newspaper, Marca make a note of Messi’s historic hattrick.

Not that the Catalan media is any better. “El Madrid gana la Liga” states El Mundo Deportivo in a thin banner – “Madrid win the league”. There is little else; you’d have to go much deeper into its pages until you’d reach the same pictures that Marca so proudly display beneath its headline. This is the way of the Spanish football media. So often placing their allegiance to a club before balanced journalism; just as Barcelona and Madrid battle for supremacy on the field, the newspapers take it upon themselves to continue the brawl between the weekend round of fixtures.

There are four main daily sports newspapers in Spain. “Newspaper” is perhaps a generous term – they are, in a relative sense, propaganda machines. In Catalonia, El Mundo Deportivo and Sport are unashamedly pro-Barcelona. Marca and AS are blatantly pro-Madrid. Indeed, each is so steeped in open support for their respective clubs that they have come to see themselves as an extension, and even an integral component, of either side. Writes Sid Lowe, “One editor claims that every Madrid win is an extra 10,000 in sales; one editor of a Catalan radio station, pandering to the most fanatical Barcelona agenda, publicly applauds the recent decision to cheer Madrid’s opponents as an “ingenious” way of getting closer to the supporters. Never mind getting closer to the truth.”

It is a blind devotion that pays little attention to journalistic integrity, though this was lost long ago. All run campaigns against players, referees, teams and even the governing body of Spanish football as they see fit: when Barcelona reached the Champions League final ahead of Madrid in 2011, during that intoxicating period which saw four Clásicos played out over sixteen days, the media in the capital turned on UEFA, and even went so far as to edit images of Pepe’s red card challenge on Dani Alves, clearing a space between the Portuguese’s studs and the Brazilian’s leg to emphasise the injustice.

AS notably airbrushed Athletic Bilbao’s Koikili from the face of the earth to make Dani Alves appear more offside than he actually was as the fullback broke through to set up David Villa for a 1-0 lead in the league. A glance at the television would have made clear that though Alves may have been offside, the “clear evidence”, as AS claimed it to be, simply wasn’t there (some might recall that under Joseph Stalin, the Soviet government would often erase undesirable figures from their history by simply removing their image from photographs). They were sorry, but only because they were caught. “We apologise for an error in the computer graphics that illustrated the possible offside in the Villa goal, and didn’t show the Bilbao defender that could have been in line with Alves”. A cheeky “oops” wouldn’t have seemed out of place.

The petulant squabbles over the Pichichi are tedious: the prize for top scorer in La Liga is awarded by Marca, who invariably, and outrageously when they do, favour the Real Madrid player over every other. Last season, Cristiano Ronaldo controversially finished on 40 goals according to the newspaper, though Liga de Fútbol Profesional, the game’s governing body in Spain, had given one of them, a free kick effort against Real Sociedad, to Pepe. In having been awarded the additional goal, Ronaldo broke the previous record set jointly by Telmo Zarra and Hugo Sanchez. There could be nothing debatable about the winner of this season’s Pichichi.

Increasingly, one is either Barcelona or Madrid. Faint criticism of one side is punished with an emphatic mark of allegiance to the other. A fan of both Messi and Ronaldo? Come now, don’t be silly. Was Özil brought down, or did he dive? Did the ball cross Valdes’ line, or was it cleared in time? Where is the referee from? Who did he support as a child? Is that a photo of the lineman standing in front of a woman in a Barcelona jersey in a park on a Friday afternoon? No wonder he didn’t call Messi offside; he clearly adores the man. Quite simply, there is no middle ground. In Spain, everything is either black, or it is white – or rather, blaugrana or blanco.

Though the same broadcast across the globe saw Barcelona crash out of the Champions League, you would have been forgiven for thinking that the Spanish media had watched entirely different matches altogether. Sport claimed “football punished Barça”, going on to read “Unjust, cruel, horrible, unmerited. Any adjective is not enough to define the incredible elimination of Barça at the hands of Chelsea. Few times has a team done so much to deserve to reach the Champions League final as that of Guardiola’s. And rarely has a rival, with so little, gained that very prize”. Marca revelled in Barcelona’s failings, claiming the end of an era. AS simply read: “Adíos Barcelona”.

The next day, Madrid fell spectacularly out of Europe too. Catalonia laughed accordingly; their misery seemingly forgotten.

They are sickening loyalties yet, at the same time, they are so incredibly enthralling. Perhaps it is because in English-language media, bias usually appears to be better disguised. Shamelessly supportive, ignorant of photographic and statistical evidence, Barcelona or Madrid must be wrong, or Barcelona or Madrid must be right. In either city, it is one or the other. Onside, offside; over, not over; dive, foul; goal, no goal; yes, no; black, white; blaugrana, blanco.

Soon enough, the Clasico will be overshadowed by the gross fanaticism, the overt manipulation, and the Stalinist propaganda. That is, of course, if we are not already at such a point.

I am José Mourinho, and you hate me because you must

Tue, 15 May 2012 08:13:32 +0100

“It is not normal to sell an image of perfection, because at the end of the day nobody is perfect.” - José. May 6, 2012.

You won’t know why I said it. Lots of people think they know me - that they have the measure of me. None of them do, they say it is something in my character, the impulse that drives me - then two weeks later it will be that I’m such a devious planner and that it’s all mind games. You can’t get your stories straight because it really doesn’t have anything to do with me, this perception of yours. It has everything to do with what you want, and what you need.

Is it some sort of surprise that these things come out of me? You all want football to be a narrative, a story with all the component parts. You want characters: some to cheer and others to shout down. It was the television that did this - the same place you could watch The Lone Ranger became the same place your football lives. Therefore, all the plotlines have to be easy for you, so I make them easy: you’re either with me or against me.

It’s an easy choice for you, the viewer. Everywhere I go, all the teams I have led, I’ve been the villain. The supporters, they love me because when I let loose I’m always pointing away from them. Everyone else gets to hate me because they’re the ones getting hit. It actually doesn’t get to be a choice for most of you. When I say what I say, and do what I do, it’s like my hand reaches out and pokes you all in the eye, and you can’t help but to be engaged. You’re mad, and rightly so - I’ve hurt you, so now you’re a part of it. Like a magic spell I’ve cast, people all over the world, people I’ve never met, have all sorts of thoughts and feelings about me.

You see, I never got to be the hero. The ball never came to my feet and the crowd never roared. So many of these men in the bootrooms of the world have already had days in the sun. They’re on their second ride.

For me - this is it. My pitch is the pressroom and the dugout. My ball is the microphone, and my words are my greatest plays. All the training and tactics and preparation are important. They keep me in working hours and paychecks, but all of that planning and management doesn’t play for the television. Not for me anyways. The games belong to the players, the results belong to me.

The game isn’t done with the time runs down. It’s never over because there is SkySports News, Marca and all the piles and piles of other papers, and the infinite scroll of the Internet. The game is never over because they are all there, and each season folds into summer, which folds into another season - over and over, etcetera, etcetera, etcetara. And you’re all watching and listening because the goals don’t come in every day, so there is me.

I say these things because they need to be said, someone has to play the part. Like I said, “I have never sold an image of perfection.” We cannot all be the charming and courteous ones. Football is conflict, Bertrand Russell knew it, “If two hitherto rival football teams, under the influence of brotherly love, decided to co-operate in placing the football first beyond one goal and then beyond the other, no one’s happiness would be increased.” You need to hate me because you want to be happy, and in football those two things must walk arm-in-arm. You will keep hating me, and you will miss me when I am gone.

This was written by Jordan Brown, who is new to AFR. Welcome him to the community with a comment below. You can follow Jordan on twitter @JordanSig.

The 2011/2012 Premier League was _______ ! Sensational?...

Mon, 14 May 2012 22:55:29 +0100

The 2011/2012 Premier League was _______ !

Sensational? Breathtaking? Astounding? Following Manchester City’s emphatic, well deserved, nail biting 3-2 victory over QPR; it’s fair to say that the most electrifying football is played in England. We’ve been entertained with another extraordinary season which is brilliantly portrayed in this video, labelling the Premier League as “the most envied in the world”.

But, how would you describe it? [posted by DV]

Neymar’s Lambretta. It was an unusual night in the Copa...

Fri, 11 May 2012 14:57:01 +0100

Neymar’s Lambretta.

It was an unusual night in the Copa Libertadores. To move into the competition’s quarterfinals, Santos defeated Bolivar 8-0, which was one goal away from its biggest win ever in the Copa Libertadores (9-1 win over Paraguay’s Cerro Porteno in 1962, when Pele was playing). The Libertadores scoring record is Peñarol’s 11-2 win over Valencia (Venezuela) in 1970. La Universidad de Chile also routed Deportivo Quito 6-nil last night after losing 4-1 in the first leg. But with all the goals, Neymar stole the show with two goals and this magnificent lambretta. [posted by EB]