No Indian summers at Chelsea?

I’ve written previously about England’s Golden Generation and the innate technical definiciencies that have prevented them from succeeding on the world stage, versus the consistent domestic success many of the players have achieved. This dichotomy is perhaps perfectly embodied by Frank Lampard.

After 10 seasons of being ostensibly untouchable as a 1st choice, Lampard is starting to look increasingly surplus to requirements at Stamford Bridge. In his time there, he has scored 116 goals in the league alone, and is close to racking up 350 PL appearances. His record as a goalscoring midfielder is a tremendous one, and his longevity is admirable.

Lampard, though, has always had his critics. Since Jose Mourinho introduced 4-5-1/4-3-3 at Chelsea, and through the diamonds of Scolari and Ancelotti, the team has very much been tailored to suit his needs; he likes to arrive late in the box, he likes to pick the ball up on the edge of the area, he enjoys shooting from long range. And all through Chelsea’s period of success, he has had more technically gifted midfielders around him; not just a water carrier, but someone to silently pull the strings while Lampard makes all the headlines.

From 2003, Claude Makélélé was the relatively unheralded heartbeat of the Chelsea team, (at least until he had gone; abscence makes the heart, etc), while in Mourinho’s first season, Lampard was accompanied mostly by the oft-forgotten Tiago, or occasional stand-in Alexey Smertin. Michael Essien followed the season after, Michael Ballack has been and gone, Jon Obi-Mikel remains a perennial stand in. And all this time, the fulcrum of the midfield, Lampard has remained.

Now, while it seems he has finally fallen out of favour, it is by no means a vindication of his critics. It’s often been said that Lampard has “made the most of his talent,” technically lacking but possessing the unlearnable gift of being in the right place at the right time. It’s irrefutable that Lampard has been blessed by playing alongside incredible talent, and under managers willing to set the team up around his strengths. For his supporters, it’s playing alongside such players that has allowed him to fulfil his potential. For his detractors, it’s the proof that he has always been carried by his more gifted team mates, his achievements over-glorified by a fawning media and a raucously vocal Chelsea fan-base.

For me, his limtations have always been exposed when playing for England. He and Steven Gerrard must take equal blame for the national team’s recent failings, for the inability to adapt their games to make a central midfield pairing, for having egos so big they coudn’t rein in their gung-ho instincts. I’ve always suspected the main reason Gerrard and Lampard couldn’t work together was because they didn’t like each other very much, but that’s a discussion for another time.

This is no obituary, and Lampard is by no means on the scrapheap. But at the ripe old age of 33, it remains to be seen whether he will accept a more peripheral role at Chelsea, or if his need to be the main man will force him to look for pastures new. At that age, and with the pace of the Premier League, he simply can’t be the same player he was. Does he have the nous to re-invent himself as a player, step aside from the limelight and change his game, in the way that Paul Scholes did in his twilight years at Man Utd? Or is he so driven to “be the man” that he will search for success elsewhere? If that were to be the case, he would almost certainly have to take a cut in his reputed £140,000 a week wages. For now though, Lampard’s career remains in an unprecedented state of limbo.

Top 10 full-back songs

“Right-backs, they never score | Right-backs, pass on the floor” is how the song goes. I can’t remember exactly what song it is, but that doesn’t matter, as we celebrate the Top 10 full-back songs.

  1. Boyce of summer – Don Henley. Emmerson Boyce came to prominence in the 2004/05 season at right-back for Crystal Palace in the Premier League. After slumming it the following year in the championship, he moved to perennial top flight water-treaders Wigan Athletic. Eagles man Henley reached #12 with his most memorable solo effort.
  2. Neville gonna give you up – Rick Astley. Before surprising everyone with his (relatively) erudite opinions and un-annoyingness as a pundit, Neville G was first choice right-back and trundler-in-chief at Man Utd for about 38 years. Rick Astley might not ever give you up, but he retired from music in 1993, aged 27, after selling 40 million albums. Get rickroll’d here.
  3. Too man Dixon the dance floor – Flight of the conchords. Okay, band meeting: Tony, present; Steve, present; Nigel, present; and Lee, yes, present. The definitive Arsenal back four were all brought to the club by George Graham in 1987-88, catching people offside together for the following 10 years. Only two seasons of Flight were made, but “always leave them wanting more” is the saying, and that’s just what they did. See here.
  4. Beglin – Frankie Valli. Jim Beglin’s career was shorter than it should have been. He won the double in 1986 with Liverpool, but after he broke his leg in a Merseyside derby in a challenge with Gary Stevens, he was never the same player. Now he is mostly heard alongside the insufferable Peter Drury on ITV, or on the excellent Pro Evolution Soccer (“Oh no!”). The song features in Act 2 of the hit West End musical Jersey Boys.
  5. Fade to Blackmore – Metallica. After 8 years and a Cup Winners Cup medal at Man Utd, Clayton Boyo Blackmore had spells at Middlesbrough, Notts County and Bangor City (amongst others). Guitar World magazine ranked the song as having the 24th best guitar solo of all time. It’s pretty damn awesome. Metallica are notoriously laid-back in their attitude towards file sharing.
  6. Breakin’ the Lawrenson – Judas Priest. Mark “Irish” Lawrenson was part of the all-conquering Liverpool team of the 1980’s. Though he was mainly a centre back, we’ve shoehorned him in here so we can mention his schizophrenic Radio/TV personality split. On the telly, he is blasé and annoying. On the radio, he is insightful and interesting. Sort it out, Lawro! Judas Priest were pioneers of the British heavy metal scene.
  7. Bouma! Shake the room – Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince. Freddy Bouma sandwiched 5 years at Aston Villa in between his PSV career. He was unfortunate to dislocate his ankle in an intertoto cup match in 2008, and was never really able to reclaim his place in the team after a long spell on the sidelines. Will Smith’s first UK #1, on the back of his very popular Bel-Air sitcom, started him off on the road to A-list superstardom.
  8. Saux here we are – Bloc party. Living proof that going to university and reading The Guardian doesn’t make you more intelligent or interesting, Graeme Le Saux had a brief spell on the MOTD sofa before my online petition convinced the BBC to remove him. (Probably). Bloc party never quite managed to hit the heights of Silent Alarm in subsequent efforts.
  9. Panucci Booty – Ultimate KAOS. Christian Panucci was a cultured Italian full-back who played for AC Milan, Real Madrid, Inter, Roma, Monaco, and managed to squeeze in a few games for Chelsea as well. Perhaps the definition of “meh” mid-90’s boy bands, Ultimate KAOS reached #17 in the chart with this effort.
  10. More than a Phelan – Boston. Terry Phelan’s only major honour was winning the FA cup with Wimbledon in 1988, though the pinnacle of his career came in a 14-game loan spell with Crystal Palace, at The Home of Football, Selhurst Park. Boston’s epic 1976 song took Tom Scholz 5 years to compose. Though recently soiled by a Barclaycard ad campaign, it still remains one of the all time classic rock tunes.

SniperTube Ep. 1: Hargreaves’ return and other crackers

Reading the comments section of most youtube videos is like voluntarily wading into a nightclub brawl and placing your head in between the flying fists of two louts; you always end up with a sore head and a whole morning of regret. The video below (presuming it isn’t swiftly removed for copyright reasons) shows Owen Hargreaves scoring a belter from 25 yards on his Manchester City debut, after roughly 2 years out of action with knee-death:

[EDIT: original clip removed due to copyright claim. Cheers lads]

Triffic stuff. The top comment, from mnnh1, reads as follows:

Every goal he scores he should pay back £10 000 in wages to Man Utd. And for ever assist, £5000. If he scores against Utd, should double those figures! We payed his medical bills all those years!

Already you feel like you’re drowning in the dreaded quicksand of “Big 4” fan-entitlement. The uploader goes on to mention that Hargreaves may have been insured whilst at Man Utd, and this may have helped cover the cost of his wages. Then, just as you feel yourself coming-to with a whiff of reason, you are veritably bludgeoned over the head with:

Insured, you dumb f**k, Manchester United paid his wages and his medical bills for his enture duration at the club. And instead of acting like a chavved up c**t, try and understand, Man City only grabbedhim to p**s us off, so his loyalty should have stepped in but because he’s such a little t**t, he’s over at the s**t end of Manchester, a club trying to buy titles, a blue exploiting football with billionaire owners, a club with no history, a club without the players that got it there.

Of course it’s unreasonable to expect any logic from a football fan. It’s just the Man Utd fan’s incredible sense of paranoia, that Hargreaves only wanted to annoy his former club, that Man City signed him only because they wanted to annoy their neighbours, that’s so terrifyingly ridiculous. And a Utd fan criticising City’s owners is not just the pot calling the kettle black, but forcing it to stand trial for being a kitchen implement.

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It’s unlikely you haven’t seen it, but even if you have, this deft piece of acrobatics from Spanish U21 international Inigo Martinez is always worth revisiting.

Like all the best own-goals, it’s a combination of unscriptable farce and nonchalant body-popping, leading to an epic faith-restoring climax: A 30-yard, look-the-other-way back-volley. The perfect tonic after reading the comments of the almost unfathomably self-righteous Man Utd fans.

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Staying with the own-goal theme, next we visit Hungary. The next clip doesn’t quite reach Martinez-levels of genius, however it’s a great example of close control in the box, and finishing under pressure:

You always expect him to hit the target from 8 yards out, but he’s about to be closed down, and if you look carefully, you can see he’s off balance as he lashes it home – a difficult skill for any striker, never mind defender.

It’s worth watching the replay to see a balder-than-I-remember-him ex-Bee Gee Robin Gibb looking calmly on from the touchline. There’s no visible reaction, but he must be fuming inside. Also on show is a 10 ft-high Orange Juice bottle in the stands, which is surely interfering with lines-of-sight.

If they were a cartoon character…

Certain footballers and certain others in football have certain eccentricites. Small character traits which to them, may seem harmless or endearing, but to the rest of the world are infuriating, laughable, or some combination of the two. And so, purely in the interests of scientific comparison, 30 Yard Sniper has analysed some of their personalities, and found out who they would be if they were a cartoon character.

  • Joey Barton – Scrappy Doo. “Let me at ’em, let me at ’em!” was the famous catchphrase of the former Newcastle midfielder. Universally hated by everyone except those on their own team. Although I doubt Barton is too pally with Ousmane Dabo.
  • Nicklas Bendtner – Brain. Sunderland’s on-loan forward is in no doubt of his abilities. “I’m one of the best strikers in the world,” he once said. But, like Brain, his attempts to take over the world will always be unsuccessful because he’s a lot more rubbish than he believes himself to be.
  • Jermaine Jenas – Casper the friendly ghost. You can see him, you can hear him, but he’s just not actually there. The phantom of the midfield.
  • Ken Bates – Stavros Garkos. Apart from teaching us that 12 year-old girls can’t play professional football with men (but that they make great owners of clubs), and that a team of robots can be overcome if your hard-nosed Scottish manager reads poetry at half-time, The Hurricanes introduced children everywhere to the concept of the über-villain chairman.  “Uncle” Ken Bates’ plans to install electric fences to deter hooligans at Stamford Bridge were rejected by the Greater London Council in 1985.
  • Arsene Wenger – Master Splinter. Arsenal’s defensive problems have been well documented so far this season, though I’m sure having a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle alongside Per Mertesacker would be better than Laurent Koscielny. Teaching his young mutant brethren from the sewers and living solely off a diet of take-away pizza, it’s little wonder Wenger’s Arsenal have such a terrible injury record.
  • Winston Bogarde – Carmen Sandiego. Signed on a free transfer from Barcelona in 2000, Bogarde collected a tidy £686,666 for each of his 12 appearnces in a 4-year stint at Chelsea, though all but one of those occurred in his first season. I’m not sure if they ever found Carmen Sandiego, but it’s possible she was hiding in Winston’s wardrobe. If you’re still looking, dudes, check there.
  • Garry Cook – Captain Planet. He’s a hero. Gonna take, er, Financial Fair Play down to zero! (Lyrics written by Phil Collins, according to lyrics007.com. Never trust lyric websites). Combining Earth, Fire, Wind and Water, the only thing stopping our man having a blue face and green hair is a distinct lack of Heart, though he could buy their greatest hits here.
  • Alan Shearer – Inanimate Carbon Rod. Rather than give Homer the employee of the month award on The Simpsons, Mr. Burns awards to it to an inanimate carbon rod. Shearer is the centrepiece of the horrific MOTD old boys club, the embodiment of the BBC not only appealing to the lowest common denominator, but giving it a plum job on their flagship football highlights programme.


30 yard sniper’s guide to…The Ultimate Premier League Footballer

Whether it’s mazy dribbling, electric pace, foxishness in the box, lots of deflected shots from midfield, or all-around brilliance, 30 yard sniper takes the best bits of players from the last 20 years and transmogrifies their composite parts into The Ultimate Premier League Footballer.

Section 1: The Head
Beginning as all things should, we start at the top. The ultimate cerebral footballer was of course, Teddy Sheringham, able to gain a mystical advantage over his opponents, since he had “the first yard in his head.” Apparently that rendered the other 10 or 20 yards he trundled along at irrelevant. David Beckham is well known as having a great “football brain”, whilst it would be remiss of me not to mention definitive 90’s target man John Hartson.

All things considered, we will choose to decapitate Niall Quinn for the purposes of this nefarious experiment, king of the flick on and able to compose a sentence or two in the real world as well. Not to mention those  Disco Pants.

Section 2: The Upper Body
A difficult selection, this, since there are so many excellent torsos out there. The extra girth carried by Frank Lampard hasn’t hampered his glittering career of over 150 goals from deflected free-kicks and penalties. D-Beck also must be mentioned again, along with fellow former Gillette alumni Thierry Henry.

There can be only one, however, and once you think about it, it’s a no brainer. The fastest player over a yard. The ‘tache. Micky Quinn. I wonder who’d win in a 1 yard race between him and Teddy Sheringham?

Section 3: The Legs
Crucial to any player. Legs. Before Owen Hargreaves turned into a good player at the 2006 World Cup, England lost a qualifier to Northern Ireland 1-0 at Windsor Park. Explaining the ineffective introduction of Hargreaves, manager Sven-Goran Eriksson said: “We needed more legs…. Hargreaves has legs.” Unfortunately he doesn’t have knees anymore, and they’re important.

In a similar vein, 30YS’s own Jez MacBlain lauded Aston Villa’s recent signing of Jermain Jenas on our first podcast, saying they “lacked legs” in midfield. Peter Crouch’s long legs are impressive, whilst pre-geriatric Michael Owen was super-fast. But for all-around pace, grace and general leg-tastic excellence, Thierry Henry gets the gong.

Section 4: The Feet
Possibly the hardest category to choose from. The genius of Dennis Bergkamp. The wizadry of Gianfranco Zola. The wankery of Cristiano Ronaldo. Kanu in his late 90’s prime even made Martin Keown chuckle. Plus there’s Paulo Di Canio, Paul Gascogine, L’Oreal’s David Ginola, one-foot wonder Georgi Kinkladze…I could go on.

But it comes down to one man, one man who defines feet. He kept Southampton in the Premier League for years. He was quite literally amazing. Matt Le Tisser, take a bow.

Section 5: The Result

The ultimate footballer.


 

 

Top 10 Goalie songs

  1. Sex on Feuer – Kings of Leon. The 6’7 American Ian Feuer was a regular for Luton Town in the mid 90’s. Kings of Leon invented music a few years ago. Here they are turning it up to 11.
  2. Reina keeps falling on my head – B.J. Thomas. Pepe Reina is Spain’s 3rd choice keeper, behind the quite overrated Iker Cassilas and Victor Valdes. Jamie Carragher’s lack of pace means he’s actually used to making saves, unlike the other two. The song peaked at #38 on the UK chart in February 1970.
  3. Cechin’ it out – Lil Chris. The Chelsea and Czech no.1 (pictured) still wears a protective helmet (pictured) after being kneed in the head by Stephen Hunt in October 2006. Lil’ Chris went on to dominate the charts for years after his 2006 hit, which reached #3 in the chart.
  4. Vorm to be wild – Steppenwolf. Vorm is a Premier League newboy with Premier League newboys Swansea City. He played 136 league games for FC Utrecht before moving this summer. Steppenwolf’s classic track only reached #30 on its initial release in 1969.
  5. Lonely is the Knight – David Hasselhoff. No musical countdown is complete without a reference to the musical genius of David Hasselhoff, and no list of random goalkeepers is complete without a mention of Alan “Superb” Knight, who made 683 league appearances for Portsmouth in a 22-year career. This is the only song in the countdown that inadvertently references a fictional character once played the singer. The shirt/permed mullet combo on show here single handedly united East and West Germany in 1990.
  6. Higuitita – ABBA. Colombian nutcase Rene Higuita is most famous for that scorpion kick, and this bit of maverick Goalkeeper/Sweeper hybrid lunacy at Italia ’90. Pop titans ABBA made #2 in 1979 with this song, which roughly translates as “Insane Colombian Custodian”.
  7. Doctor Jones – Aqua. Paul Jones, Welsh former international keeper, once played a match with the sponsors logo written in biro on a piece of paper and stuck to his jersey with a safety pin. Seriously. Aqua have sold over 33 million albums and singles worldwide, which means humanity is ultimately doomed.
  8. Suckling Hot – Pato Banton ft. Rankin Roger. Perry Suckling was the man between the sticks when Liverpool edged out Crystal Palace 9-0 at Anfield in 1989, though was mysteriously replaced by the first ever million-pound keeper Nigel Martyn soon after. Pato Banton and Ranking (?) Roger reached #15 in April 1995 with this sadly overlooked soup-based number.
  9. Lukica, my reflection – Sisters of Mercy. Gaffe-prone John Lukic won the league with Arsenal in 1989, and then Leeds Utd in 1992. A Villa supporting friend once told me he was “too tall” to be a goalkeeper, a statement I still don’t fully understand.  Industrial Metallists Sisters of Mercy reached #20 in 1988 with this suitably moody track.
  10. Sealeyed with a kiss – Jason Donovan. Les Sealey played 459 league games in a 20 year career, before he tragically died of a heart-attack, aged 43 in 2001. He made his debut for West Ham as an outfield player due to an injury crisis. Jason Donovan has one more solo #1 single than Bob the Builder.

Artwork: Wheeler Dealer

Harry Redknapp during the transfer window

The bit after International fixtures and the league kicks off again leaves one pining for days when things were actually happening. This abstract picture is titled “Memories of the Transfer Window,” and depicts Harry Redknapp talking to reporters in typically exicted fashion with his car window down.

 

Top 5 England players whose inclusion made you cry

  1. Emile Heskey – That feeling of betrayal when the ball drops to Emile Heskey in the penalty area, and just for a second, you truly believe…over the bar, and Heskey falls over. Ouch.
  2. Phil Neville – A friend of mine once opined that Phil Neville was the better footballer versus his brother Gary. Then Euro 2000 happened and no-one ever thought that again. 59 caps and that was the only thing he achieved. That and getting 59 caps. Good God.
  3. David James – safe hands. No, that was David Seaman, sorry. Hard to pick from his back catalogue of errors, though the Euro 2004 group stage game vs France sticks out – deliberately unsighting himself behind the wall for Zidane’s free-kick equaliser, then conceding the penalty for the French winner. Catastrophic.
  4. Shaun Wright-Phillips – specifically on the left wing at WC2010. Crippling one-footedness meant he refused to go down the outside, so he either played a short ball back inside or lost it. What were you thinking of, Fabio? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING OF?
  5. Andrew Cole – his 1 goal from 1 yard against footballing powerhouse Albania was the highlight of his 15-cap career. How the tears would flow after he missed yet another “sighter”.

Honourable mentions: Lee Bowyer (attitude, personality, face), Jermain Defoe (just f***ing pass it!), Frank Lampard (WC2006: Shots – 21, On target – 0, Off target – 21), Jermaine Jenas (existential anguish)

Contextual healing

When people talk of coincidences, they tend to be of the happy variety; or at least, if the opposite is true, they’re described with a wry smile. “You’ve planned a late-night shopping trip to Bluewater? I’m having two fillings that day as well. What a coincidence.”

But there are no smiles to be had about the unfortunate coincidental theme surrounding the football world this week. Monday’s stories surrounding a rather distasteful and upsetting email, allegedly accidentally sent by Garry Cook to Nedem Onuoha’s mother disparaging her battle with cancer, were followed by the death of football fan Mike Dye outside Wembley prior to the England vs Wales game on Tuesday.

Cook has immediately scrambled to a defensive position, saying his email account was hacked and he was on holiday in South Africa at the time. And those internets haven’t reached that part of the world yet as well, he didn’t say. It’s not an implausible argument, though; I daresay most office workers have had a prank email or two sent in their name before, though I doubt it would have had such a negative and directly personal impact on their lives, or the lives of its recipients.

Meanwhile, several arrests have been made regarding the death of Cardiff City and Wales fan Dye. The possibility of an inter-club rivalry being behind the attack were played down in the initial reports, but it’s a sad fact that this man’s death was caused by people whose side he was supposed to be on.

So on the one hand, we have a Chief Executive of a football club on a multi-million pound salary allegedly making light of a life threatening illness to the sufferer, and a Welsh fan who lost his life at the hands of other Welsh fans outside Wembley on the other. And so you are left wondering once again, how many times does football have to learn its lessons?

I’m finding it difficult to articulate my feelings towards Gary Cook. Football has a rather chequered recent history with men of his ilk; men from corporate backgrounds who serve the bank balance above all else. But really, I don’t need to say anything; I can let him do it for me, here talking about former Man City owner and all round top bloke Thaksin Shinawatra:

“Is he a nice guy? Yes. Is he a great guy to play golf with? Yes. Does he have plenty of money to run a football club? Yes. I really care only about those three things. Whether he is guilty of something over in Thailand, I can’t worry … I worked for Nike who were accused of child-labour issues and I managed to have a career there for 15 years. I believed we were innocent of most of the issues. Morally, I felt comfortable in that environment.”

Mike Dye’s death, apparently at the hands of a hooligan element of the support, shows we are still trying to deal with the legacy of football hooliganism which traces its roots back to the 70’s and 80’s. Whether an incident like this is sporadic or isolated or not is a moot point. No football match and no football team is worth dying for. Things may be better on the whole for the majority of football fans these days, but that will be of little consolation to the family of the 44 year old man who died on Tuesday night.