The Architect

Footballs a wonderful thing. Despite the many faults of the modern era ‘product’, and the growing chasm between the have’s and have nots, there is still a great deal of pleasure to be taken from our great game. That special goal, that pass, that impossible save, the underdog over coming the odds to win the day. These moments are cherished but they are fleeting. Enjoy them while they last.
Every now and again there is a player who gives you these moments time and time again, with every appearance, with every touch of the ball. Few players can fill a heart with such pure joy as Andreas Pirlo.

l’architetto controls the football field, building the game in front of him to his own vision. Rarely do footballers play the game with such grace, intelligence and foresight as Pirlo. Effortless yet ingrained with technique and ability.
He’s not the warrior like De Rossi, or have the engine and tenacity of Montolivo but he doesn’t need these qualities. He plays the game at his own pace and conducts the concerto around him to suit. From the base of midfield he makes Juventus and Italy tick. Seeing passes, seemingly an age before anyone else, he picks out his team mates with impossible accuracy. One of a dying breed of playmaker, he is truly a master of his position, and despite the deep lying nature of his natural habitat in midfield, defending is not at the forefront of his mind. There’s no last ditch tackles from il professore. Moving the ball, and his team forward is paramount.
A lack of pace may hamper the majority of players in the modern era, but not Pirlo. Most read the game as a Tolstoy novel, he reads it like a nursery rhyme.

At 34 Andreas’ swan song is fast approaching, and a great loss to Italian football it will be. Another Azzurri legend to add along side Maldini and Baresi et al, but all to often the word legend is banded around with flippant ease. But Pirlo truly is a legend, with a bulging trophy cabinet to boot. Genuinely one of the few special players of a generation his moments on the pitch should be embraced and savoured. And don’t get me started on that beard. A blessing to the game of football, we should be grateful to experience the brilliance of Andreas Pirlo.
RG

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Who is Aleksandar Tonev

So who is Aleksandar Tonev? The Bulgarian, now former, Lech Poznan midfielder is set to complete his move to Aston Villa next week. After starting his career at CSK Sofia, where he picked up winners medals for the Bulgarian cup and super cup, as well as a young player of the year award, he found himself at Poland’s Lech Poznan. Now the Premier league beckons with Paul Lambert’s young lions.

A young, quick, attacking midfielder who’s comfortable with the ball at his feet would add a threat from midfield that was missing from Villa last season. Lambert’s front three were relatively prolific, considering the league position, but a plan B or attacking options from deeper certainly wouldn’t go a miss. Westwood, Delph and Scylla started to gel in the later part of the last campaign and although they became a solid, workman like midfield three, their was a lack of creativity or attacking threat from that area of the park. And definitely a lack of goals.
Tonev, often labelled as a winger, offers a little more than his tag would indicate. He seems equally comfortable coming inside and using his pace through the middle, and he isn’t shy of pulling the trigger, usually from distance, though his goal tally to date has yet to really catch alight. He has potential to offer more than the often one dimensional Albrighton and certainly more drive and application than Stephen Ireland. A possible replacement for the seemingly ‘surplus to requirements’ Brett Holman who also arrived with quiet expectation on his shoulders, but never really cut the mustard for the step up to the Premier League.

So, can the Bulgarian make the transition to the English top flight? To be blunt, the Ekstraklasa and the A group are not quite at the same standard as the Premier League. Enough players, from better leagues, flop when they’re asked to make a step up but Aleksandar does have youth, and more importantly for the Premier League, pace on his side. He also has already cut his teeth in the Europa league and for the Bulgarian national team. A 23 year old with European and international experience might just have a shout.
RG

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Snow in Rio

England against Brazil. In Rio. In June. At the freshly renovated Maracana. Out steps the referee, leading the officials team, players following behind like goslings following the mother goose. Tucked securely under his arm is a bright, shiny orange ball. In June. In Rio. In Brazil.

Now, clearly this isn’t as outlandish as it’s being made out. Simply part of a sponsorship deal or a manufacturers promotional contract, but for British viewers, an orange ball only means one thing. Snow. And I’m pretty sure we aren’t going to see any snow in Rio tonight.
An Orange ball is a rarity in the top leagues these days, with under soil heating and grounds teams working round the clock, snow doesn’t really effect pitches outside of non league and lower division football. So, for the majority of TV viewers tonight, or maybe it’s just me, an Orange ball gives a massive sense of nostalgia. It makes me think of football in the 80’s. Men with moustaches. And shaggy hair. And short shorts. Tight short shorts. And career ending tackles where the ref doesn’t even blow. But most importantly, snow on the pitch and a orange ball. Maybe it’s because it reminds me of being a wee lad, but it is quite exciting to see an orange ball. Remembering winter evenings watching Match if the day with games with white pitches and players, fans and officials carrying on regardless. It’s a shame that with increasing years comes increasing cynicism.

But alas, no snow in Rio tonight. No moustaches and no short shorts. But still there is football. And the eternal feeling of youth.

RG

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Championes Final

It was a cagey, tense affair at Wembley for the Championship playoff final. Both teams wanted to win, but both definitely didn’t want to loose. Palace huffed and puffed, trying to take the game to Watford in the first half, which they did predominately thanks to the highly rated Zaha, but never really threatened Almunia’s goal. Likewise, Speroni remained untested. The below par Watford only managing fleeting glimpses of the stylish football Zola has delivered this season.
The second half started as drab as the first, but Palace soon found a rhythm and an outstanding Almunia was called into action on a handful of occasions as the game grew in tempo and intensity. The Eagles dominance increased partly thanks to a shocking afternoon for veteran fullback Cassetti, but still no break through for either side led to the inevitable extra time.
With penalties looking odds on it was Cassetti, who’s afternoon went from bad to worse, that gave away the penalty in the first period of extra time, chopping down the fleet footed Zaha in the box. Up stepped the ageless journeyman goal getter, super Kevin Phillips, who powered the very well taken pen into the top right leaving Almunia without a chance.
Watford came close on the second period of extra time with Ekstrand’s shot headed off the line by Joel Ward but it was Palace who were celebrating come the final whistle

I can’t help but feel a bit sorry for Zola. A legend of the game and a humble, likeable man who since his spell at Watford began, has them playing with an attacking flair. Entertaining and stylish, Zola’s character has been stamped on his team in relatively short space of time. It’s unfortunate that they never really started in this game. Perhaps the occasion got to them or maybe a team of loanee’s didn’t really have the stomach for a fight when it really mattered. But that’s not to take anything away from Crystal palace. They thoroughly deserved their win and if not for Almunia could of wrapped it up in normal time. Zaha threatened all afternoon and perhaps a loan back to Palace, once he officially joins United, would help develop him further.

The eagles return to the top flight also see’s the return of Ian Holloway. The media loves him for his zany, sometimes surreal quips but often I find he more feels like a petulant sore loser than comedic quote machine. However he carries himself, he’ll have his work cut out to keep his club with the English elite. Throughout the final there was a theme of poor decision making and a lack of quality that, in all fairness, could have been down to the pressure of game, but as Reading a QPR found out, must be addressed. As the cliche goes, the Premier league is unforgiving and these sort of flaws will surely be punished.

RG

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Chapter two

The end of this season, albeit the anticlimax it was, feels like the end of a chapter. The close of the second act, where main characters are killed off and the the story arc twists in new directions. Some of the most iconic faces of the Premier League era have hung up their boots (or hairdryers) this week and it does feel a bit melancholic to see them go.

Ferguson, Beckham, Scholes and Carragher have all been staples of the Premier League over the years and to see them all depart feels like closure on the first era of the modern top flight. Each of them have been a huge character in the league, in their own individual, unique way. Beckham’s growth into a brand behemoth, Carragher’s grit and determination, Scholes seemingly endless masterclass display, and of course Ferguson’s stranglehold at the top of the league have helped sculpt the drama of the league into what it is today. And now they’ve gone, it definitely won’t be the same again.
It’s fair to say big players, who have helped mould the league to what it is have come and gone before. Cantona, Klinsmann, & Bergkamp spring to mind immediately, but it feels like we’ve never lost a crop like this in one fell swoop, and this is why there is such a feeling of closure for me.

Without doubt new stars will emerge and icons grow, but for now let’s say farewell to the old guard. It’s been a blast. A joyous, thrilling, infuriating ride, and I’ve loved every minute. I hope the next chapters as gripping as the last.

RG

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Glorious failure

So, Arsenal managed to nick fourth spot on the final day of the season. They are the fourth best team. Number four out of twenty other teams over a series of 38 games. They are not as good as Man United, but better than QPR (but to be fair, I’ve seen pub teams better than QPR). So why all the Celebrations?

Now I realise, and agree, qualifying for the Champions league is a big deal. The status, the financial gain, the potential untouched fan base, rubbing shoulders with the greats. All desirable, all unachievable, for 99% of clubs at least, so if you do manage to bag that top four spot, then kudos to you. You deserve it. You’ve earned the right to be there and deserve the rewards that come with it. But let’s be absolutely crystal about this, you have won nothing. No trophy, no medal, no big day out at Wembley. So it’s probably best you don’t act like you have.
Doing ‘the bounce’ or the Klinsman dive at your fans just makes you look a bit silly. Be proud of your achievement, and congratulate your fans for their support, that’s fine, expected even, but not the bounce. Anything but the bounce.

Now, this isn’t a dig at Arsenal (I support Aston Villa after all), and maybe I’m just being Churlish, but finishing fourth shouldn’t be lauded. And shouldn’t be expected to be treated as such. Could you imagine Ferguson or Mourinho being pleased with fourth?
Surely trophies are what really matter. A clubs history is remembered for accolades, not being the better than 16 other teams.
Now, I’m off to celebrate finishing 15th.

RG

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Wigan and Goliath

Huzzah! Rejoice on the streets of Wigan as the good guys defeated the evil galactic empire at Wembely yesterday. I am genuinely delighted for the incredibly likeable Roberto Martinez. It feels like he deserves this ‘moral victory’, though I still can’t seem to figure out why he warrants these emotions. But never the less, the underdogs triumphed in a story that nearly all school boys have recreated in there back gardens for years.

What bugs me about the final yesterday was just how massively patronising the majority of the media was towards Wigan before and after the game (please see paragraph one for reference). I lost count of how many times I heard ‘little Wigan’, or ‘Gareth Barry cost more than their starting 11’. Lets be clear, Wigan didn’t win a raffle to get to the final. They played and beat 5 other teams to get to Wembley. They earned the right to be there to compete, and ultimately lift, the FA cup.
True, they are a comparably smaller club next to Man city but they have been an established premier league club for 7 years, this isn’t Gillingham we’re talking about. Again True, they have struggled in the prem but they do play football ‘the right way’ and Martinez is a talented coach.

Wigan deserved the trophy yesterday because they were better than Man City. I’ll congratulate Wigan for being the better team on the day and scoring more goals than city. Not because they over come adversity or battled demons against the odds, but because they are quite good at football.

RG

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Bale Bale Bale

Gareth Bale is clearly good at football. As good as Spurs are, and as good a coach as AVB is (and he is), Bale has carried Tottenham for large chunks of this season. So when the inevitable, ‘it’s not you it’s me’, I promise there’s no one else’, ‘I think we’ve just grown apart’, comes at the end of the season and the Europe’s big clubs come circling like sharks in a blood frenzy, what will become of Wales finest?

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Departin’ O’Neill

Late last night Sunderland announced the sacking of ex Villa and Celtic Manager Martin O’Neill.

In Saturdays program notes the Sunderland chairman had said, “But right now, it is important for us all to be on the same side and get behind the team. Not being together will not help us to get results, so let’s stand shoulder to shoulder and give the team our full support.”

That sentiment clearly didn’t last, but cracks in Ellis Short’s and O’Neill’s relationship having been showing for a while now.

In January the two had to be physically separated after a boardroom meeting descended into chaos. Matt Houghton confessed, ‘It was all going fine, a normal meeting between the two. But when Mr Short mentioned he was looking forward to going home and watching The Phantom Menace, Martin just got the red mist. He started muttering something about Jar jar binks and ‘proper’ Storm Troopers, but when Mr Short started sniggering. Martin just flipped.
Houghton added ‘Martin stood and was screaming, ‘They should have just left it, they should have just left it. Lucas is a cunt, he’s ruined it.’ But Mr Short wasn’t having any of it shouting, ‘Get him outta here. George is my friend and a visionary. Get him outta here.’ That’s when Martin went for him.’

In February O’Neill was sent home for ‘Emotional’ reasons after he was seen sellotaping headless toy battle droids to Ellis Short’s office door.
Also, earlier this month it has been speculated O’Neill lost the dressing room, after a loss to Fulham, by making Lee Cattermole stand in two buckets of dry ice and screaming ‘I’m gonna freeze you in carbonite you useless cunt’.

On Saturday evening,after the announcement, locals reported seeing a small man in brown hooded robes harassing people at bus stops saying ‘I’m not the coach you’re looking for’, though these reports couldn’t be confirmed.

Sunderland’s Premier League status may be under threat but who ever steps in to fill O’Neills boots will certainly have a bad feeling about this.

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England 1 Montenegro 1

On the back of a disappointing visit to Podgorica, questions are being asked of Hodgson’s boys, and the literal ‘game of two halves’.

A first half stroll in the park turned to pushing a boulder uphill in the second, but what went wrong?

A post game presser left some telling nuggets for all associated with England to sink there teeth into. Milner on responding to the question had this to offer, ‘The lads were prepared before the game. We knew what we had to do, and we’re all professionals, so we ready for the game mentally. After it kicked off we went about our business and were doing our job. but as the game went more of the lads started to notice, and the more time passed the more distracted I think we all become.’

Gerrard, trying to defuse the situation chipped in with, ‘Look, erm, we’ve all seen him at Juve and we know he’s a good looking bloke… erm, but… erm, seeming him in the flesh… and with the beard… erm, some of the younger lads just didnt know how to react to that.’

Milner tripping over Gerrards diplomacy butted in with, ‘Vucinic is just so good looking. I didnt know what to do. I just kept on thinking about kissing him.’

Gerrard then added, ‘At half time we just had to regain our focus. erm, but in the dressing room it went from bad to worse. Chris and Joleon nearly came to blows arguing who was gonna mark him. erm, and when we went on for the second half… erm, I think everyones head and gone. Erm, to be fair though, he is fit.’

After, Roy Hodgson was cornered and asked about his England players homoerotic fixation with the Juventus forward. He coutered with, ‘We’re all proffessionals and understand whats expected of us. Unfortunately we didnt have the foresight to prepare for the physical beauty of an opponant. And it left some of our players shellshocked, distracted or just arroused. Its some thing we are going to have to look at in the future if we want to get to Brazil.’

With this fresh insight many have now draw the conculsion that Vucinic could be the reason Ferdinand pulled out of his England call up. An unamed source leaked, ‘Rio got wind of Mirko’s beard. After that, there was no way he was getting on that plane.’

Journalists tried to push Mirko Vucinic for a comment after these reveleations were revealed, but all he had to offer was ‘Fuck off!’

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