Open Letter to Wenger

I stopped writing about Arsenal a while back, well, because I stopped seeing the need to. I’ve missed doing it of course, but it’s just something I outgrew. And there’s no going back. So when I was approached by an equally disillusioned Gooner for a guest post concerning said club, I was a little apprehensive. But oh well, Ken is good with his words…and here he writes to Arsene Wenger. I don’t know if the mail will ever reach the intended recipient, but there are so many other things I don’t know about. So, here goes…

Dear Prof:

With the 2-1 home defeat to Man U still fresh in my memory, I’m left to wonder, do you ever feel remorse? You probably heard of a fan who committed suicide ‘cause of his beloved Arsenal; and you have never been caught attempting killing yourself. You could try it one of these days so we feel we are in the same sinking boat. In any case, you wouldn’t die going by the failure rate you have set.

When things are hot on the pitch, the worst you do is kick a water bottle to cool things down. I must mention your kick is way better than some of the strikers you sign. If you kicked the bottle against De Gea, the keeper would have no chance but pick the bottle from the back of the net, and wash the shock on his face.

At press conferences, you go on to give this now rather familiar script…poor officiating, ill luck in the final third, we will bounce back… Sometimes you add that you’re in control, which in essence is like our local rogue pastor, Kanyari, standing in front of a church and saying he’s now born again for real. None is believable!

If Man United gets beaten by other lesser teams, and Man United beats you, who are you gonna beat? Don’t attempt to answer that I know it’s hard for you, but you can attempt to answer this one, ‘What do you smoke up there?’ Lucky your team must be to get so many loyal fans who pay for the most expensive tickets in the world. You surely duped us into joining the invincible team of 2003. Soon it will be the invisible team in top four.

Shareholders and Arsenal’s management must be proud of you. I also am, now more than ever. This is because I’ve changed you from being my favorite team’s coach, to my mentor in economic studies. Money keeps flowing and also to bookmakers who happen to sponsor you. These are the guys who rob us our hard-earned money, and we even offer to take it out of our pockets for them. With the big fan base, I’m pretty sure when Arsenal fails to win, the number of bets lost is overwhelming.

You should consider getting counsellors to sponsor you too because sooner rather than later, you’ll be making them rich when fans start attending anger management classes. I am excluding myself from the fans since you’re now just my economics mentor. I salute you for getting the title Professor while you have only done an economics masters and a degree in Electrical engineering. If the way you connect passes is the way you connect wires, after retiring from football we can offer you a job at Kenya Power to eliminate what we call blackout. During blackouts we don’t see – Welbeck can tell you this is what happens when he misses the ball.

Don’t bother buying anyone in January. In fact, sell Walcott n Giroud at a huge profit and claim they’re prone to injury. Tell the fans that Welbeck is all they need. They will believe you 100% – Isaac Newton could calculate the motion of heavenly bodies, but not the madness of these fans.

We’ll continue looking up to you in matters Economics. For the remaining fans tell them, “Till we meet again, see you Suuuckers!!!”

Regards,

Ex Arsenal fan.

Oops, We Did It Again

Gini Waseretain! Wakawe kendo gi thuon!
Tears of profound, unbridled joy roll down my cheeks unashamedly as I type away this piece on the morning after the (afternoon) night before. I still can’t believe that we did it again. Ladies and gentlemen, once again, Gor Mahia are the champions of the land. Not only champions, but champions for a record 14th time. To put this in perspective, Gor Mahia is the most successful football club in the Republic of Kenya. We have, to borrow a leaf from Sir Alex Ferguson, knocked AFC Leopards, our supposed mortal enemy, off their fucking perch! Let all arise and salute the Champions.
It has been a long and difficult road, and that’s why I’ve lost control of my tears. Yes, sure, it could be argued that it was always Kogalo that was going to finish first in the league and that’s probably close to accurate. But tarry a little. The last nine months have presented to us the Green Army a thousand and one hurdles to jump over, rivers to cross, dipping valleys, rugged mountains to climb and generally a road littered with all kinds of harsh terrain to navigate. We have overcome all that and here we are, bossing the league, confounding critics, reigning like kings at the summit of Kenyan football. We are the champions, and you won’t hear the end of it.
This is not a season review per se. No, there will be plenty of time for that and all that other fancy statistical analysis in the days to come. This is a big, heartfelt show of gratitude to the Gor Mahia squad, management, the fans and everyone who stood by the team on this impossible quest. Impossible? Yes, impossible. A team renamed by detractors ‘Paybill FC’ in reference to the fact that we’ve had to make do without a sponsor all season, has defied the odds to clinch the biggest prize, surviving on the stringest of monetary reserves qualifies for the term ‘impossible’. Fergie’s knocking Liverpool off the top of English football was the Impossible Dream. Circumstances may be different, but Gor Mahia’s feat too, in its own right, has been an impossible dream. But you know what they say about dreams: Dreams come true. Without that possibility nature would not incite us to have them.
I love title run ins. The drama is unmatched. The adrenalin rush is out of this world. Everything about a knife-edged title tilt reminds you why you loved the game in the first place. Then again one’s memory of a title challenge is tempered by the final outcome, whether their team won or lost. For most of this KPL season though, it seemed like we’d never get the privilege of watching such a grandstand finish. Gor were efficient but not flamboyant. The rest of the would-be challengers were too busy trying to figure themselves out to mount any sort of challenge. Indeed, were it not for a series of four frustrating draws as the season approached the business end, Kogalo could have wrapped this up in record time with say three or four games to spare. But then again, the football gods wanted to make it a little bit more captivating, so with three games to go, Sofapaka faced Gor in Machakos with the chance of cutting the deficit to one point.
Probably if the makers of the Tusker Premier League wanted a moment to use to sell the league to potential new market, the game in Machakos should be it. All action, damning despair, unadulterated joy, ugly scenes, necessitated stoppages…man! It had it all. Gor taking the lead in the second minute, Sofapaka weathering the early storm and asserting themselves in charge of proceedings in an almighty show of defiance to race to a 3-1 lead, the Gor crowd sensing defeat (and potential collapse) and losing their heads, the air above the Kenyatta Stadium being filled with teargas, Kogalo mounting an almost comeback to reduce the arrears to a single goal and Sofapaka ending the day breathing hard on Wuon Timbe’s necks, just a point behind and momentum firmly with them. How many times, even in the elite European leagues has a champion-elect lost a crucial tie against a challenger and effectively lost their way in the title stakes? It could have been a case of déjà vu for us again after the 2012 disaster. I feared. I had dread written all over my face.
Both teams would win their next round of matches, Sofapaka triumphing 2-1 in Mumias against Ingwe and Gor doing the business in Kisumu, 3-1 winners over Muhoroni Youth to set up the grand finale of yesterday. Nothing but a win, for both teams. When Erick Ochieng’ stabbed in that half cleared corner kick on the stroke of half time sparking an unprecedented wave of delirium at the Moi Stadium, you felt that was it. Or at least I felt that way. There would be no more drama. The boys had done the business. Sofapaka could only draw 2-2 at Ruaraka against Tusker – not that it mattered. The Green Army had long since sealed the deal. Of course it finally ended 3-0 in our favour against the commendably spirited KRA.
I’ve never seen more passionate supporters than those who done the famous green and white every weekend to follow their team to wherever duty calls. This is their victory. Each and every one of them, they fully deserve this. At times this season the team was so depleted financially and in terms of personnel that I often wondered what drove them on to chalk win after win on their way to averaging two points per game. Stunning! Simply incredible. The Green Army lifted Jerim Onyango, David Owino, Haron Shakava, Godfrey Walusimbi, Baba Kizito, Eric Ochieng, Timothy Otieno, George Blackberry, Danny Sserunkuma and the rest of the squad when their sails could do with all the wind it could get. If you ask me what the difference was in this title challenge was, my answer ten out of ten times will be ‘the Green Army’. We as the Green Army, we did not wince nor cry aloud under the circumstances, our heads were bloodied but unbowed and in a season of wrath and tears its menace found us unafraid. It did not matter how charged with punishments the matches were, we were and are the masters of our fate.
The rest of the league should be ready, because next February we will be energized like never before. This team is going to take quite some stopping. We’re on a hat trick of titles and we’re gonna get it. Stand up for the Champions. Mayienga mayiengo piny, Gor wuon timbe, timbe duto ywakni!

FPL Musings: GW2

I wasn’t going to do this week’s piece despite what I might have said last week. Also, looking at Calciopoli’s GW2 performance, the less I talk the better. Obviously I have a lot of soul searching to do and lots of explanation to give to my team’s owners. Yes, Calciopoli has owners, and they are Italian. Anyway, a warm welcome to Festus who takes over this week with the first FPL guest post on The Dug Out. He knows his stuff and is actually among the ones who showed me the ropes when I joined this bandwagon a few seasons ago. Festus, bring it home.

Another Gameweek down and managers are already scratching their heads for the third showdown. How are you faring so far? Are you having a good view from the top or are you engaged in relegation battles already? Or are you the “play-it-safe” kind of people in mid-table? Whichever way, I’m pretty much sure you can’t wait to get going again. Playing #fpl makes one feel like he just paraded an all- conquering squad before kickoff and a team that would rival Harambee Stars for horrendous team of the decade immediately after the GW. That’s fantasy football for you. My first ever guest blog piece, it had to be about #fpl. I promised Fabian to do a piece once in a while, so here goes.

I have already made two transfers since we started. One to get Gylfi Sirgudsson and I just couldn’t leave Spurs’ Eric Dier to luck again. As much as Dier faces a tough Liverpool next, I did it for the almost definite price rise. See, managing is not all in the pitch. Ask Arsene Wenger, economics has to be dealt with accordingly and efficiently. Getting that +0.1 is very important. Tip: always try doing your transfers early, preferably immediately the GW ends. This gives you a chance to cash in as people rush to get the hotcakes before the next deadline. The downside of this strategy comes in if the player has a midweek non-league fixture. That brings in the risk of getting an injury so tread carefully. I used to do my transfers just before the deadline then I realized I was missing on the mullah. Similarly, try getting out potential flops and injured players immediately after the GW before their prices drop. My team value is 100.4 already. Not bad after two GWs. So if you like Wenger’s financial planning then that’s the way to go.

Now, depending on the players you have; their form and opponents of the gameweek, you get another headache in deciding who plays and who warms the bench.  I have almost always used the 3-5-2 formation. I’ll play more defenders only if their point scoring is tinkered a bit, like the McDonald’s Fantasy FIFA World Cup. The defenders get points for blocking shots and even clearances. That explains limiting my defenders to the minimum allowed. I’d actually go for two if it were possible! My three are Dier, Mathieu Debuchy (I’ll definitely chuck him soon) and Gael Clichy. I might as well buy my defenders from Chelsea; I see them conceding little this term. Midfielders are my best choices. If you get good attacking midfielders then you can have a great squad. I have Christian Eriksen (I’m giving him two more GWs before he faces the axe), Aaron Ramsey, Juan Mata, Raheem Sterling and Sigurdsson. Yaya hasn’t shown up yet and I can’t afford Cesc Fabregas, but he is my differential. If he flops then most of my rivals will flop, to my pleasure. Plus I need to get space for Angel Di Maria! Yaaay! Strikers, Diego Costa and Wayne Rooney lead my line. If Daniel Sturridge hits form (unlikely with Mario Balotelli’s just concluded transfer), I’ll consider dropping one of my midfielders and switch to 3-4-3 but he’s damn expensive. Stephen Naismith is currently a great bargain. Speaking of bargains, will the real Bojan Krkic ever turn up?

There were days when the vice captain didn’t exist. And there were days when you could actually get a GW’s captain auto-selected if your captain didn’t play. But people exploited this and always chose captains who they were sure wouldn’t feature in that GW. Of course your captain would be auto-selected after the GW closed and most of the times it would be your top performer that GW. Clever! But the guys at #fpl saw the flaw and now we have captains and their deputies. If none of them feature that GW then your team remains captain-less. Now who’s the clever one? I honestly have no tip on choosing your captains. Trust your instincts and just hope all goes well. But of course check the player’s form and most importantly, opponents. Like the just ended GW, Rooney and Costa were my obvious shouts but Costa got the nod because of a relatively easier home fixture than Roo.

So, GW 2. A good week if you invested in Spurs & City players, the right ones if may add. Two goal hero Stevan Jovetic is the only player from the GW’s last match to make it to the dream team. Three Spurs players feature with Nacer Chadli leading (15 points), thanks majorly to his two goals v QPR. Has Joey Barton responded to tweets concerning comments he made last season about Spurs spending too much on average lads and the way he ‘will run riot’ over their midfield? Dier’s goal and clean sheet sees him top overall rankings so far. I hope he continues this great run of form (of course because I have bought him). Ryan Shawcross, Branislav Ivanovic, Fabricio Coloccini and Ashley Williams earned 3 bonus points each. Sweet! Emmanuel Adebayor with an assist and a goal got the game’s maximum bonuses while Mata is the only Manchester United player in the GW’s list. Whether the same players perform again next gameweek remains to be seen. Nothing to smile about in the GW3 fixtures unless United re-ignite their pre-season form. Arsenal face a tricky trip away to Leicester City at the King Power Stadium and Chelsea are away to Everton at Goodison Park. Liverpool square it up with Spurs at White Hart Lane while Manchester City host Stoke. Tricky fixtures, no outright picks for GW3 from me.

Finally, the wildcard. Those who know my #fpl well know that my wildcard stays intact until, probably, March or thereabouts. I find it too soon to use the WC before November. Checking stats on the #fpl site, 152,604 wildcards were played before GW2. How bad were those teams to warrant an early use of the best tool the #fpl hands us? I believe a transfer each GW can hand you your players without playing your WC. Unless of course injuries wreck havoc to your squad or the inner boy in you told you Felipe Luis will be an #fpl star, Shinji Kagawa will bring in the points, Bojan will be the dark horse and such other idiotic delusions. So keep it intact like a church girl would hold on to her virginity; until the right time or when really necessary.  

An ode to The Dug Out league’s prestigious top four: @Gorkevv, Bumblebee (led by yours truly), LipaNaMpesa and La Legion. Meanwhile, plenty to ponder about for Mayans FC, Los campeones and Immastar FC who are stuck in the dreaded drop zone. Also a shout out to the GW’s biggest mover, La Legion, moving up 14 places from position 18 to 4. The guy was on a roll.

That’s it from me for now, adios! Oh, before I forget, you just read this and you probably play #fpl. I rarely wish my rivals luck so may the odds always be against you!

Thanks for reading! Tschüss!

Fantasy Musings: GW1

This is NOT by any means an expert piece. The author is a lousy fantasy manager who maybe at times (allegedly) exhibits traits associated with fantasy genius, but usually he’s just confusing his enemies. Reader discretion is thus advised.

So Gameweek1 is done and dusted. Yes, I performed dismally, stuck at 16th in The Dug Out log, and as good old Njogu pointed out in a rather prematurely ill-advised jibe, one place off the relegation zone sure does give me a good vantage point of the action on the top half of the table. Wow! Hehe. How does one get back up from that? Ah, 37 GWs to go, plenty of twists and turns in store.

For me, historically the first 5 GW are the worst. It’s just too damn difficult to accurately predict which players will start with a purple patch. Plus, other clubs are usually still making new signings while other managers are trying out new systems. Chaos out there, I tell you. Also, you hardly ever know what to expect of the newly promoted sides. Some could fly off the blocks after you downplayed them, while the ones you fancied to compete favourably could be found wanting by the high level of the Premier League.

The top ranked player worldwide for GW1 had 101 points – really impressive. Embarrassing that I’m all of 53 points adrift. Do we even play the same fantasy premier league? But 48 ain’t such a bad return. For starters it’s better than the global average (47 points), I’ve scored worse (in the region of teens) before and above all, it’s still early days.

I was unlucky in 3 choices I made, and as the manager of the Calciopoli franchise (yes, I prefer franchise) I shoulder the blame. As if… My biggest disappointment has to be Felipe Luis. I mean, all indicators were that Jose Mourinho would give him a start at left back and hence have Cesar Azpilicueta at his natural right back position. Well that failed to go according to script. Azpi was retained at left back and Branislav Ivanovic got the nod at right back. And not only did he get the nod, he grabbed it with both hands, playing a part in Diego Costa’s opener and getting a goal himself. Makes my decision to spend 6m on Felipe rather daft when I could have had say, Ron Vlaar for 1.5m less and better points return.

Robert Snodgrass is another of my disappointments. I picked him based on the decent season he had with Norwich City last term and felt him moving to Hull City would only be more productive. He got injured before half time. What a pity. Then there’s the curious case of Bojan Krkic, the new flavour of the Potters in Stoke. A few years back he was Spain’s next big thing, but you know, things don’t always work out. He gave me a massive 2 points for all that hype. Maybe I’ll give him another chance to impress.

The highlight of the gameweek definitely has to be Cesc Fabregas. Written of in Spain, deemed surplus to requirements at Barcelona, he’s back in the Premier League with Chelsea (bleurgh) and he’s kicking booty straight away. Two assists including a sumptuous through pass to Andre Schuerrle demonstrate why he’s usurped the enigma that is Yaya Toure in my team as the number one pick. Yaya remains untouchable, even though he’s yet to hit his stride. The only regret is that I replaced Fabregas with Rooney as the captain in the last minute, totally going against my resolve to captain only midfielders and defenders this season. Though that was compensated by Rooney scoring and Manchester United losing, the ultimate perfect weekend scenario.

Changes for GW2? I doubt I’ll do much, or rather why would I want to lose points unnecessarily? Though I sure wish I had picked Diego Costa over Rooney, or rather had them both in my team, but oh well. Let’s see who between them blinks first. I have a hunch Rooney will prove to be a very dependable points earner. Sergio Aguero is another one I had chosen to ignore, fitness issues, costs and all, but given his cameo against Newcastle United yielded a goal, I’m having a facepalm moment. That said, I think I’ve already identified my weapon for the next gameweek, hopefully.

I guess that’s about it for GW1’s fantasy musings. The next one will be better than this, I promise. Kudos to the managers of Team Name, eli_shere, FC Mwascohol and Bumblebee who occupy the prize-eligible and all important top 4 spots in The Dug Out. La Legion, VanGaal and Immastar FC prop up the log in the relegation places. Have a productive GW2, won’t you?

Fandom Problems

At the start of this week I was caught up in a weird conundrum (which maybe wasn’t even a conundrum at all). I was at a sportswear shop in the capital and my intent was to purchase a replica shirt. Specifically, I wanted either one of the Real Madrid 2014-15 home shirt, or the Bayern Munich 2014-15 away shirt. As fate would have it, the Bayern shirts had not yet arrived at the shop. So I then picked up the Madrid shirt, stared at it, but hesitated giving the green light to the attendant. It dawned on me that I couldn’t decide whether to have the number 7 (Cristiano Ronaldo’s) or number 8 (Toni Kroos’) printed on it. Silly problems, I know. I ended up shelving that decision for another day.

Ronaldo is my favourite footballer in the world so picking his shirt would be basically a straight forward choice, except that maybe, I’m not over Kroos leaving Bayern, especially as I had gotten to really like him. The disadvantages of being both a Madrid and Bayern fan, if you may. Before Toni left for Madrid, I had been well convinced that he’s the best midfielder in the world game currently, and that hasn’t changed. Also, I harboured dreams of him becoming a Bayern legend like say, what Bastian Schweinsteiger has become. And speaking of Basti, had I found the white Bayern shirt, his name or number (31) would have definitely appeared on it. In the end I made a compromise of sorts. Opting instead for the DFB home shirt with Mesut Oezil’s 8 at the back, for my Gooner-ist reasons.

This was not meant to be a proper football piece, but rather, a piece on some of the game’s trivial and lesser important things: Kits. Every close season fans the world over wait anxiously for the unveiling of their clubs’ new kit so that they can make the mad rush to snap up a shirt or two to wear during matchdays. It is so intense that for some people it is a legit measure of one’s love for the club. “You cannot claim to be a proper Arsenal fan when you hardly spend on or wear the club merchandise”. Many are the times I’ve heard this from fellow Gooners, usually with bemusement. Bemusement because I think that’s just utterly ludicrous. I don’t have to flaunt some fading replica shirt for me to feel that I’m a proper fan.

These days if you’re so keen you’ll notice that footballers are more loyal to the kit-maker company they represent than for the football clubs they actually play for. Remember Mario Goetze at his Bayern Munich unveiling last year proudly flaunting his Nike T-shirt much to the chagrin of the club’s top brass and PR gurus given Bayern’s close affiliation with Adidas. Or a feature of Wayne Rooney’s Twitter bio, ‘Nike UK Athlete’ at a time when his Manchester United future was in heightened doubt. He may not have known which club crest would be on his chest, but he was never in doubt that he’d be kicking the ball with his Nike boots. I must admit, I’m also a victim (or is it protagonist) of this bizarre kit-based brand loyalty. If players get to say, ‘I’m a Nike/Adidas/Puma athlete’, then I am an ‘Adidas pseudo-athlete’.

I’m a sucker of the famous three stripes to the extent that say I’m watching a match which I have no stake in, I’d almost always lean towards the side kitted by Adidas. So you can imagine my disappointment last year when news leaked that it was Puma rather than Adidas that Arsenal would be signing up with. Like I said, this is almost criminally trivial but it is what it is. The only exception to this rule is the 2010-11 Nike Inter away shirt with the viper design at the side. That, I wear with pride. I love Inter so… yeah.

Here’s hoping that you have none of this nonsensical problems that we force ourselves to go through. Probably I’ll pick the Real Madrid number 7 (mutual feeling shared by Name Redacted). And the white Bayern Basti 31 too. Who wouldn’t want to don the Fussballgott’s shirt? Who? Anyway, go on, grab your favourite player’s shirt and have a fantastic season, will you?

 

Der Vierte Stern ist da!

(By the way, this article was meant to be posted a week ago, but the celebrations got the better of me. Come on, I’d waited too damn long!)
Let us now praise great men, and our fathers that begat us. The Lord has brought great glory by them through his great power from the beginning…
Those are the first few lines of a famous Bible reading from our high school days. It was specifically preserved for the School Captain during those joint church services, usually when a batch of boys would be leaving school. It’s taken from Ecclesiasticus (Ecclesiastes?) 44, I reckon. Been racking my brains all morning on how to start this piece and it duly came to mind.
On Sunday night, Germany were crowned champions of the world for a fourth time after beating Argentina 1-0 in a closely contested final at the Maracana in Rio de Janeiro. It marked the end of a 24-year wait for glory and indeed, warranted a huge sigh of relief. For a mere fan like me who has followed and supported the Germans for as long as I can remember, it was magical. Just magical. Die (National) Mannschaft had finally crossed the finish line after years of near misses and the subsequent earning of the tag, ‘the nearly men’. So let us give thanks, because by heaven and earth, it’s the least we can do.
Bastian Schweinsteiger
Der Fussballgott. The football god. I just had to start with the Germany number 7. In this final he gave his heart, nerve and sinew to the cause. He dragged the team kicking (for which he was booked) and screaming (a lot). He shed blood (literally, from a Sergio Aguero elbow-ish on the face), sweat and maybe tears just to ensure the fourth star arrived. That is why we the Bayern Munich faithful call him the football god.
I watched him make his tournament debut in that ill-fated Euro 2004 campaign in Portugal. He was full of energy, full of running and really, the spiky haired 17-year old Basti was hard to not like. Loved him instantly. From then he has grown in stature for both club and country to become the spiritual leader, if I may, for both sides. He may not wear the armband, but he exemplifies the spirit of these 23 men that have just conquered the world. He deserves this title. He has earned this title. Thank you, Basti.
Philipp Lahm
The events of one summer night in 2008 at the Ernst Happel Stadium in Vienna, Austria must forever be shrouded in mystery for the Germany and Bayern captain. Lahm was badly at fault in the Euro 2008 final against Spain. A then lean, mean and hungry Fernando Torres capitalized on Lahm’s failings, out-muscling him to poke home the winning goal. The Germany coach Joachim Loew would haul him off soon after that to compound or end his misery, whichever way you want to view it.

Rather than be forever scarred by that event, Lahm picked himself up to lead Bayern Munich to trophy after trophy culminating in the glorious Treble of 2013. In the process he has been the most consistent right back in the world for an awful long time now. This World Cup has been rather mixed for Philipp. He started off in midfield (which he seems to prefer) then due to public demand coupled with uninspiring performances he reverted back to his customary full back slot, a decision which in many ways raised the team’s impetus in the knock out stages. Lahm’s calm leadership style has been pivotal to this triumph and he now joins the illustrious company of Fritz Walter (1954), Franz ‘Der Kaiser’ Beckenbauer (1974) and Lothar Matthaeus (1990) as German World Cup winning captains. Thank you, Lahm.

Manuel Neuer
The world’s best goalkeeper, by some distance. As flamboyant as he is effective. My idea of the player of the tournament. They say great teams are built from the back and who can argue that with Neuer in goal Germany have nailed it? Neuer’s style of sweeper-keeper has been a revelation (of sorts). Effectively, he’s played as their fourth centre back (and fifth, when Shkodran Mustafi played). Germany went to Brazil with huge question marks on their defending what with Lahm going to midfield, Sami Khedira’s propensity to bomb forward and a glaring lack of a natural left full back. Games against Ghana, Algeria and France could well have been lost were it not for Neuer’s super human interventions time and time again. To say he was immense is an understatement. Oh, and he completed more than 200 passes in the tournament, a figure which some midfielders would kill for. Thank you, Neuer.
Mats Hummels
I never have much time for Borussia Dortmund, and that’s that. But even I am usually envious of them each time I watch Hummels do his thing. At Brazil 2014 he struggled with fitness issues, but that did not stop him from becoming a key member of the victorious side. His headers against Portugal and especially France further his legend as one of the most complete centre halfs in the game at the moment. In a department where both questions and eyebrows were raised he provided pace, no nonsense and thrust in the attacking third. Somehow I hope he returns home to Bayern when it all began for him. Thank you, Mats.
Toni Kroos
One of the most sought after midfielders in world football for two seasons now. Probably the best midfielder in the world now. It’s amazing that despite all those glowing compliments, Kroos has never quite felt appreciated by both club and country. At Bayern he had to go cut his teeth at Bayer Leverkusen on a loan spell and for Germany had to settle for cameo appearances at Euro 2012. Following strong showings for Bayern and Loew’s foresight to fit him in his midfield, this World Cup has seen the best of Kroos. Unrivalled passing, assist after assist and a brace in the demolition of Brazil has catapulted Toni to another level.
Kroos has exemplified just what it takes to win a World Cup; having players like him who are versatile and playing at their peak every other game. In truth, there’s no better sight than watching him control proceedings silkily in midfield. Here’s to a player that was called upon, grabbed the opportunity and performed well beyond expectations. It’s a pity the Bundesliga will be shorn of Kroos Kontrol as he heads to the Bernabeu. Thank you, Toni.
Thomas Mueller
When you need a goal, you need Thomas Mueller. That’s a saying that has become common in football, and it’s true. His five goals at Brazil 2014 were important and came when needed. He may not have gotten a goal in the final, but there’s no denying that he is the ultimate big game player. How many times has he delivered when it really matters? His hat trick in their opener against Portugal is actually what lay the platform for this success. It was a big game, that they had to win; for their confidence and to relieve the pressure. It wasn’t what you’d call a glorious treble. The three goals were just typical Mueller, but you know what, they all count the same way.
As probably the least technically gifted player in that star studded squad, it would be easy for Mueller to be overawed, but no. Not him. What he lacks in technical ability he more than makes up for in terms of application of intelligence and immaculate creation and utilization of space. Thomas Mueller is Germany’s most important player, and as a big player, he rose up for them in the grandest of stages. Thank you, Thomas. Young Mueller baby!!!! That chant never gets old.
Mario Goetze
Not many people in the history of the world will get to say ‘I scored the winner in a World Cup final’, but Goetze can, because he did. For a long time seen as the jewel in the crown of German football and the German Messi, Mario made use of the thirty minutes or so that he was given and made history. Indeed, without his goal, this piece might never have been written. He has for the last one year been heavily scrutinized following his acrimonious switch of allegiance from Dortmund to Bayern, but thanks to that moment he chested and volleyed an Andre Schuerrle cross past Sergio Romero in the Argentina goal, he’s gotten that monkey off his back. At a World Cup final is where legends are made. The legend of Mario Goetze was born on the night of July 13, 2014. Thank you, Super Mario.
Joachim Loew
The main man. The man. The one who masterminded the shattering of the myth of European nations failing to perform on South American soil. He deserves all the praises he gets, and more. Doubted for the better part of his 8 year reign at the helm of German national team, he has finally been vindicated. While others would have had it easy, Loew treaded on thin ice in the run up to the tournament. Picking only one out and out striker in the 36 year old Miroslav Klose, snubbing Mario Gomez and Stefan Kiessling, dropping Marcel Schmelzer and effectively going to a major tournament minus a natural left back, and opting to replace the injured Marco Reus, not with an attacker, but with an inexperienced defender in Shkodran Mustafi instead…that was some daring stuff.
The trend continued once the games began. Tough calls had to be made, and Jogi made them. Sticking with Mesut Oezil against popular opinion, using Goetze in a loathed False 9 based system, and having the balls to bow to pressure (and common sense) to revert Captain Lahm to full back, all that he did at the very right time. And finally, his biggest triumph, accommodating Toni Kroos in his already flooded midfield – that was the stroke of genius. As a fierce defender of Mr. Loew, it’s gratifying to see that it all fell in place perfectly for him. Thank you, Jogi.
To the rest of the gang, you can never be thanked enough. From the bottom of the hearts of all those who bleed black, red and gold, we are eternally grateful. Miroslav Klose, Sami Khedira, Mesut Oezil, Per Mertesacker, Lukas Podolski, Andre Schuerrle, Jerome Boateng, Benedikt Hoewedes, Julian Draxler, Roman Weidenfeller, Ron Robert Zieler, Shkodran Mustafi, Kristoff Kramer, Kevin Grosskreutz, Erik Durm and Matthias Ginter, thank you for that fourth star.
This assembly declares their wisdom. The congregation proclaims their praise. Stand up for the Champions of the World. Stand up for Die Nationalmannschaft. Stand up for Germany!

Heartbreak Kid

December 27, 2009, I think. I was at a pub with two of my uncles watching the early kick off Premier League encounter between Arsenal and Aston Villa. The two did most of the talking as I just stared at the screen. At the start of the second stanza the match was still goalless. I was now pensive. Cesc Fabregas wasn’t playing, as he wasn’t fit enough and had to contend with a place on the bench. Arsenal would send in wave after wave of attack on the Villa goal but all in vain. The Emirates crowd was growing frustrated. Then Fabregas stood at the touchline waiting to come on. ‘Thank God!’ I muttered as I finally sipped my drink. Within minutes of his arrival we got a free kick at an inviting position close to the edge of the area. You guessed it! Fabregas stepped up and duly curled and powered a beauty past Brad Friedel. 1-0! After that, another free flowing move only that this time that man again, Fabregas, was on hand to add the Midas touch and make it 2-0. A match that had for a long time seemed unwinnable had been turned on its head, all thanks to Cesc. I was bubbling inside and outside too, probably. The hero would limp out immediately to a rapturous applause after aggravating his injury. When we needed the top man, the top man rose for us.

September 15, 2007, North London Derby, White Hart Lane. Gareth Bale (when he was still a left back) had fired in an early free kick to give Tottenham Hotspur the lead. So Arsenal had to chase. Fast forward to the second half, after wasting enough chances to equalize. Free kick. Fabregas lands the ball perfectly on to the head of Emmanuel Adebayor who nods home. Then in another nice build up, after an inter-change of passes Cesc gets the ball close to the area and fires, in the commentator’s voice, “Dynamite! Absolute dynamite!” to make it 2-1. In the closing stages, again he had the presence of mind to locate Adebayor after it seemed that Denilson had spurned a gilt-edged opportunity, with a peach of a pass to which the lanky Togolese did justice pulling off one of the best volleys you’ll ever see to the top corner. Job done. Fabregas at his celestial best again.

I could point out a thousand other instances to show just why yesterday’s news that Cesc Fabregas had joined Chelsea (freakin’ Chelsea!) broke my heart and stamped on it. I loved him. We all agree the Thierry Henry is Arsenal’s greatest player ever and that’s fine. For me though, this man from Arenys de Mar in Catalonia was more special. There’s a period between 2007 and 2010 that what pulled me to watch Arsenal play was the sight of Cesc pulling the strings in midfield. Before, I simply watched football for the goals and maybe the brawls, but Fabregas arrived and changed all that. He made me aware of ball skills and passing ability and what difference they could make to a match. Oh, a pass from Cesc’s boot. Lord! Is there a better sight in football? And so when he left in the summer of 2011 to go back to Barcelona, that very day is a day I could do with forgetting in a hurry. I cried. Literally. I was in a car that afternoon and when I learned of the tragic news on Twitter tears exhibited my tongue like Launcelot Gobbo would put it. I stared at the windscreen and saw nothing. Thank God, I was not driving, otherwise I wouldn’t be here to tell this story.

He’s gone to Stamford Bridge having not come directly from Arsenal, so why should I be this distraught? Well, if what I’ve always heard is correct, Arsenal did insert a clause in his Barca contract that they call first refusal, with a buy-back option. In the event that Fabregas were to leave the Catalans before the end of his contract, this is what I imagined (and believed) would happen:

Barcelona: Hello, Arsene, how are you?

Arsene Wenger: Good. What’s up?

Barca: Okay, your boy Cesc is no longer needed here, we’re selling him. Also, Chelsea, Man United and Man City want him.

Arsene: You guys didn’t tamper with that clause we inserted in 2011, did you?

Barca: Of course not. Is that how low you think of us? That is essentially why this call is happening. If you want him back, you can have him at the fee agreed in stated clause or else he’ll go to whoever bids the highest.

Arsene: Check your account in 24 hours. We’re already wiring that sum. And tell Fabregas to suit up for his presentation at the Emirates when he’s done with the World Cup.

Barca: Roger that. Ummmh, is Jack Wilshere….

Arsene: Good day! *hangs up, backflips in his office*

Sadly though, the world has a wicked sense of humour and Arsenal, upon being informed of the Chelsea bid passed up the chance and we are where we are. Arsene Wenger has handed him over to Jose Mourinho (love that guy) a man who personally blocked his loan request for Demba Ba last summer. A man whom the Frenchman hasn’t beaten even once in the history of the universe. Am I missing something here? Is there somewhere in Wenger’s current and previous contracts that stipulates: “Thou shall do all in your power to strengthen your domestic rivals at any instance you get”. Ashley Cole to Chelsea. Samir Nasri to Man City. Robin van Persie to Man United. Cesc Fabregas to Chelsea (via Barcelona). You can’t make this stuff up. Now I’m just waiting to see whom he sells to Liverpool, ‘cause I kid you not, it will happen.

I hear Wenger said Fabregas was not his priority, that his priority is a defensive midfielder. *gets up* Are you kidding me? Suddenly the word ‘priority’ means something to Arsene? Isn’t he the man who for the better part of 9 years has always prioritized that ridiculous fourth place trophy? When did Patrick Vieira leave the club? 2005, yes? Is almost a decade later the time to prioritize the signing of a proper defensive midfield general to replace the legend? No, Arsene, we may be stupid, but not that stupid to believe this preposterous thinking! It’s all about the money, as it has always been for the Arsenal manager. So long as there’s money to be milked, that player will be traded. For instance, in this Cesc-to-Chelsea thing, Arsenal had the option of paying £30 million to Barcelona for him and rendering Chelsea’s bid irrelevant, or letting Chelsea have him and earn £5 million from his sale as per the contract agreement. No prizes for guessing what the club opted for. Sickening. Where does Arsene take all this money? Whoever coined ‘money is root of all evil’ must have seen Wenger in one of his dreams. Don’t tell me about priorities. If anything, were we even remotely sane as a club, our number one priority this summer would be signing a new manager. We all know how that has turned out.

I guess I have nobody else to blame but myself for attaching myself too much to a professional footballer. Robin van Persie’s sale to United for ‘football reasons’ was hurtful, but Arsenal letting Cesc to go to Chelsea is devastating. That does it for me. I am done with making heroes out of Arsenal players. For what it’s worth, the club can ship them all off to the highest bidder. Sometimes you hope that the club you support has your interests at heart…then you wake up and realize just how utterly stupid you are to believe that. I’ve learned my lesson.

It is going to be weird seeing Cesc Fabregas don the Chelsea blue, play his guts out for Mourinho and win the Premier League title for them. To Chelsea fans, you lucky bastards, you don’t know what a good player you are getting. You have no idea. He’s only 27, he has 6 more years to rule the league with assist after assist after assist. For Arsenal, I don’t know. At least I know we definitely won’t win the league next season. Some rules are not meant to be broken. The consequences are dire. One of them is the Cesc Fabregas Rule. And it states: If Cesc Fabregas is available, you buy Cesc Fabregas.

Desperate appeal: Can anyone tell me where broken hearts go? I really need to take mine there to have some rest and re-moulding. I’m tired. All the best, Cesc Fabregas, you were a joy to watch. No hard feelings, do your thing.

True Happiness Returns!

Jose Mourinho once said that the UEFA Champions League is bigger a competition than the World Cup. Now I love Jose, and I’d run through a brick wall for him. Okay, that’s just a big fat lie, the second part. Rather, normally I agree with around 89% of what he says, but his assertion above I will definitely lump under the 11% I consider at best rubbish and an infinite deal of nothing at worst. Mou has his reasons, of course, or probably there’s none. After all didn’t he warn the world to take whatever he says with a pinch of salt? Thus, let me reiterate categorically (did that choice of words make sense?): There is no bigger competition on this planet than the World Cup which kicks off in a few hours. All hail!

The World Cup is back! And boy! Didn’t those four years since the closing ceremony at Soccer City, Johannesburg on that chilly night in July 2010 feel like eternity! The world’s most loved sport’s extravaganza is back at its spiritual home, Brazil after a 64-year hiatus. To say these are exciting times is criminal understatement. Exciting not just for the 32 nations involved, but also for the rest the global village.

As depicted by the World Cup Memories series that The Dug Out has been running here, here and here, memories from the one month period that this event takes place are forever etched in our hearts and minds in indelible ink. Everyone has their story of how they watched a certain World Cup, where they were, what they were doing, the amount of sleep they had to sacrifice, the classes they sneaked out of, the relationships they wrecked and the friendships they made. And these memories are treasured with unending fondness, you just have to see the twinkle in one’s eyes the moment they begin to narrate their World Cup experiences. Lovely, just utterly lovely.

Who will win this World Cup? I know that’s the one question whose answer you’d give the world to get. I don’t like making predictions, given the kind of backlash they attract should they be off the mark. Who am I kidding? I love living on the edge and making bold predictions and the adrenalin rush when I’m crossing my fingers, toes and any other body feature that can be crossed when they are on the verge of coming to pass is what I live for. Well, one among the things I live for.

It’s an open secret, the fact that the world is leaning towards a semi final quartet of the hosts and five time champion Brazil, the world and European champion Spain, twice champion Argentina (for geographical reasons) and three time champion Germany. Why these four? Well, the Selecao certainly have a score to settle having connived to let the title slip off their grasp when they last hosted it in 1950. In addition to that they have the home advantage, a squad in form and a coach, actually two coaches who have won it before in Luis Felipe Scolari and his assistant Carlos Alberto Perreira. Also, an interesting fact: three former champions, Italy, France and Germany have hosted the World Cup twice and won it half that time. Brazil is a former champion, they are now hosting it for the second time having not won it the first time. So, yeah.

Spain come to Brazil as the most successful footballing nation of the recent past. In the last 6 years La Furia Roja have won the Euros twice (2008 and 2012) and of course lifted the World Cup trophy in Madiba’s presence 4 years ago. They have a unique style (tiki taka) of playing that wears the opponent down and with the tropical conditions in Brazil, might just tip the scales in their favour. And of course, they still boast the core of the sides that have brought them these triumphs. Some of their key stalwarts might have gained a few years and creaking bones, but they say form is temporary, class is permanent. Question is, in a tournament like this, which one counts more; form or class?

Argentina are riding on the fact that no European team has won the World Cup on South American soil, but then again so is it in the minds of Brazil, Colombia, Uruguay and Chile. Oh, that’s not all the Albiceleste are pinning their hopes on. They have something that none of the other 31 teams have got: Lionel Messi. He is the player widely regarded as the best of the current generation (though Cristiano Ronaldo and I vehemently disagree). Messi has won everything there is to win in football, both individual and team accolades…well, except the World Cup where he’s just been an also run. If he leads Argentina to victory, he will undisputedly become the greatest footballer ever. That’s all the motivation he needs and remember it takes just 7 games to win the World Cup…just 7 games in which a player of his ilk has to be on top form. We all know what happens when Leo runs the show.

Germany has been consistently challenging Spain in the FIFA world rankings and still play second fiddle to Spain as we go into the World Cup. Their build up though has been riddled with everything that could go wrong, be it injuries to key players, lack of form, freak accidents and stinging criticism of the coach, Joachim Loew. Do not be fooled though, Germany are the ultimate tournament team. Their run ups to major competitions may not inspire, but when the show begins, they knuckle down and do the business. They may have only 3 World Cup titles compared to Italy’s 4 or Brazil’s 5, but in terms of consistency, no nation is above them. Since 2006, die Nationalmannschaft have reached two World Cup semis, a Euro semi and a Euro final. They are fast gaining the notorious tag of the ‘almosts’. In terms of quality squad depth, they may be rivalled by only Spain. For the likes of Miroslav Klose, Lukas Podolski, Philipp Lahm and Bastian Schweinsteiger, it’s time to write their names in history and win something. Now or never.

The destination of the trophy isn’t a preserve of only these four nations. In fact, I can guarantee that there will be a team outside these four in the final four. Always there is. I’m betting on Uruguay to gate crash the party. If there’s a South American side to win it apart from Brazil, Uruguay it is. The fitness of Luis Suarez is in doubt, but who’s to say this won’t be Edinson Cavani’s show? La Celeste defend superbly well and don’t really need two goalscorers to repeat what they did in Argentina at the Copa America in 2011.

The one nation I can never discount from the reckoning for glory is Italy. The Azzurri are the epitome of overcoming the odds. Just when no one thinks anything of them, in their quiet unassuming way, they make everyone take notice. If they find the right balance in attack from among Mario Balotelli, Ciro Immobile, Lorenzo Insigne and Il Bambino (Antonio Cassano) they could well go all the way. In the same breadth, France and the Netherlands both have points to prove and who’s to say they can’t?

The beauty of the World Cup is that everyone thinks they have a chance. Some think it more, others act it more. Watch out for the unheralded nations, they have the potential to impress you more than the big guns. There’s the ridiculously talented Belgium side that seems to be everybody’s favourite Dark Horse pick, the (Falcao-less) Colombia that will expect to impress on familiar conditions given their lofty status in the world rankings and the golden generation of the Ivory Coast on their last lap, representing Africa’s most potent threat. That said, do watch out for Switzerland. I don’t know why, but I got a feeling there’s something going on there.

The fixtures will alter our sleeping patterns, our thinking and the stories we talk about for the next month as we eat, drink, talk, sleep, and dream and wake football. I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to see Brazil and Croatia line out at the Arena de Sao Paulo to open proceedings. Let the games begin!

Ps: I did a 2014 World Cup simulation and the result? Brazil facing off with Argentina in the final at Maracana after beating Germany and Spain respectively the round before. And Brazil claims the Hexa by winning that final 3-1. I hope Germany wins it though.

 

 

Eine Zeit, um Freunde zu machen – Germany 2006

For those of you lost after reading that mouthful of a title, it simply translates to ‘A Time to Make Friends’ which was the theme for the 2006 FIFA World Cup held in Germany. Unlike the 1998 and 2002 editions, I wasn’t quite as lucky to watch as many matches. Being at a boarding high school with its stringent rules sure did cost me a great deal on that front. Anyway, here’s an overview of the few matches of this tournament that I managed to catch.

Group Stage

You’ll notice I’ve kind of lumped matches from the eight groups together here. Well, that’s basically because there are just so damn few of them. The opening game, the hosts Germany against Costa Rica was on a Friday evening and coincided with our prep time. I remember leaving my dormitory for said prep, a bit late and on the highway being apprehended by one prefect Jomo (what a douche!) and had to do the usual on-the-spot punishment (12 push ups). While I was at it I somehow managed to ask him about the scores (he had a radio with him, so why not?). Surprisingly he didn’t baulk at this seemingly outrageous request but duly told me Germany were 1-0 up, thanks to Miroslav Klose. Of course that wasn’t entirely accurate as that goal, and indeed the very first of the 2006 World Cup was scored by current Germany captain, Philipp Lahm. Anyway, the game itself was a six-goal thriller won 4-2 by the Germans and we only got a feel the next day as we watched the highlights.

Next, I would watch England, without the injured Wayne Rooney but still boasting a formidable line up grind out a 1-0 win over Paraguay, thanks to Carlos Gamarra own goal. After that the Three Lions booked passage to the next phase with a more commanding 2-0 win over Trinidad and Tobago. They had to be patient though, as the goals came late in the match courtesy of Peter Crouch and Steven Gerrard. It’s a pity though that I missed the most exciting match of this group, a 2-2 draw between England and Sweden, highlighted by that exquisitely struck Joe Cole belter of a goal.

Group C having Argentina, The Netherlands, Ivory Coast and Serbia & Montenegro was dubbed the Group of Death and rightly so. In the opener, a star-studded Argentina raced to a 2-0 first half lead thanks to the strike-duo of Hernan Crespo and Javier Saviola. The Elephants though weren’t going down without a fight and managed to pull one back through Didier Drogba. Argentina further underlined their reputation as serious title contenders in their second game against the Serbs, running riot 6-0 and in the process scoring one of the best World Cup team goals of all time, Esteban Cambiasso finishing off a flowing move of well over 20 passes. Also on the scoresheet were Maxi Rodriguez with a brace, Crespo, Carlos Tevez and Lionel Messi, scoring the sixth goal of the match, his only ever World Cup goal. The image of Diego Maradona in the Gelsenkirchen stands, shirtless and going crazy at each goal scored is still etched in my mind. Next was a must win for both Holland and the Ivorians and it too lived to expectations with the Dutch stunning their opponents with two quick fire early goals, a scorcher from a Robin van Persie free kick and one from Ruud van Nistelrooy. Again the Ivoirians would fight back, but despite that solo goal from Bakari Kone, it would still be too little, too late. Despite registering their maiden World Cup win, a 3-2 triumph over the Serbs, the West Africans crashed out.

Then the other debutants, Angola would put up a spirited fight against their former colonial masters Portugal and still lose 1-0 to a Pauleta goal. The match was gut-wrenching as for all their nice build up and tactical awareness; the Palancas Negras just couldn’t find that elusive goal. Ghana though, would stem the tide of African teams being overwhelmed, and I duly caught them on tv as they pulled off one of their best performances in history to beat the then ranked 2^nd in the world, Czech Republic 2-0, with goals from Asamoah Gyan and Sulley Muntari. On the same night, Italy v USA was on and despite my sleep trying to get the better of me, was there to watch it end 1-1, as the Americans finished with 9 men after Eddie Pope and Pablo Mastroeni were sent off. The Azzurri too lost Danielle De Rossi to the same fate. Alberto Gilardino gave Italy the lead, which was pegged back almost immediately by an own goal by Christian Zaccardo. That would happen to be the only goal Italy would concede from open play in the entire tournament.

I did not watch any match from Group G, though not everything passed me by, thanks to match highlights. That celebration by the Togolese players after Mohamed Kader Coubadja scored their first ever World Cup goal in the 2-1 defeat to South Korea still has me in tears. Hilarious stuff. The only match of Group H that I ‘watched’ was Spain v Ukraine. Ok, I actually didn’t watch it, but followed it on radio as the Spaniards tore apart Ukraine 4-0, thanks to goals from Xabi Alonso, Fernando Torres and a David Villa brace.

Second Round

At least in this round I saw relatively more action, starting off with Germany, and Lukas Podolski to be precise, blitzing past Sweden in a dizzying 12-minute spell at the start of the match, 2-0. The Scandinavians would never recover and Germany, buoyed by a vocal Allianz Arena home crowd saw off the rest of the match to proceed on to the next stage.

Later that day, we were all packed in the Ngala-Gikubu Recreation Room to witness the eagerly anticipated Latino clash between Argentina and Mexico. With everyone virtually rooting for the Albiceleste, there was utter dismay (joy for me though) when Rafael Marquez gave the Mexicans and early lead but less than five minutes later Hernan Crespo would get the equalizer that put the match on a knife-edge. With neither side finding the breakthrough in regulation time, we had to stretch our bed times (illegally too) as it went into Extra Time. In the 98^th minute, Argentina’s talisman for the tournament, Maxi Rodriguez stepped up, chested the ball and unleashed a cannon that flew past Oswaldo Sanchez in the El Tri goal that for me was the best goal of Germany 2006.

England v Ecuador wasn’t much to write home about, as the unconvincing English were bailed out by a trademark David Beckham free kick at the hour mark to knock out the spirited South Americans.

The match of the tournament, possibly, was Portugal against the Netherlands, for the wrong reasons, I must add. I mean, what do you say when it is the referee who actually grabs the headlines? In that hot tempered encounter, Russian ref Valentin Ivanov flashed out a record 16 yellow cards and sent off four players; Costinha and Deco for Portugal; and Khalid Boulahrouz and Giovanni van Bronckhorst for the Dutch. The outcome though was decided midway in the first period, as Maniche scored for the Iberians. It has now come to be known as the Battle of Nuremberg, by the way.

I did miss the rest of the Second Round matches; that dubious penalty deep into stoppage time converted by Francesco Totti that cruelly sent out Australia, the stalemate between Switzerland and Ukraine which the latter won 3-0 on penalties. Yes, the Swiss did not convert any of their penalties as Marco Streller, Tranquillo Barnetta and Ricardo Cabanas were all found wanting. The Swiss also ended the tournament without conceding a goal, both in the tourney proper and the qualifiers. What ill luck! Also missed was Brazil Samba-waltzing past Ghana 3-0, with Ronaldo scoring his 15^th World Cup goal, making him the tournament’s all time top goalscorer. But really, the match that I constantly kick myself for not watching was Spain v France. France came from a goal down to win 3-1 in a game that Zinedine Zidane literally ran the show. It was also Franck Ribery’s coming out party, getting the equalizer and presenting himself to the world. Damn it!

Quarter Finals

Watched 2 out of 4, which wasn’t that bad, I guess. For England v Portugal, on a Saturday afternoon the recreation room was packed (to the rafters, if I may) with England enjoying majority of the support (Ha!). I was not really pro-Portugal, just wanted England to lose. The game itself was attritional, none wanting to give an inch and should probably be seen as an exhibition of defensive nous. It saddened me to see Beckham limp off with an injury (always been a massive fan of Becks) but that was soon turned into bliss as Wayne Rooney got sent off, with then Manchester United team mate Cristiano Ronaldo doing that unforgettable wink. Oh, lovely. The tie went to penalties, where England would characteristically capitulate, Frank Lampard, Steven Gerrard and Jamie Carragher all fluffing their kicks. Actually only Owen Hargreaves would convert, which wasn’t really odd, considering he was the least un-English of the squad (read his Canadian heritage, and his time in Germany). Ronaldo stepped up and buried the winner, not really doing much to appease the England fans after his wink.

Brazil v France, billed to be a classic, turned out to be another Zidane show as he pulled the strings whereas Brazil’s stars went anonymous. Personally it was disappointing to see this talented Brazilian side bow out so meekly, but hey, when Zizou’s at his best, he’s unstoppable. The dribbles, the kanzus, the assist…man, Zidane was high on something very celestial. Thierry Henry scored the only goal of the game, that being the only time ever that he had scored from a direct pass from Zidane. Incredible, huh?

Whenever I fail to watch a tournament game involving Germany, I die a little inside. Now their mighty clash with Argentina at the Olympiastadion was on a Friday night and as usual, there was prep. Though before we had settled in for the prep, I got wind of Roberto Ayala’s early goal and duly, my heart sank. Needless to say, I did not do any meaningful studying till at 2100h when prep ended. Off I dashed to the nearest dorm’s (Kirkley-Njonjo House) balcony where some friends were following it on radio. Miroslav Klose had equalized by then. When it went to the shootout, my confidence was restored as I knew Germany had never (and could never lose) lost a shootout. As Ayala and Cambiasso missed theirs, Oliver Neuville, Michael Ballack, Podolski and Tim Borowski all duly converted and bam! We were through and the world’s favourites were dumped out. It was a great night! The other quarter final match which went down under the radars was a 3-0 triumph for Italy over Ukraine, Luca Toni grabbing a brace with Gianluca Zambrotta also scoring.

Semi Finals

The two encounters were played during the week so chances of me watching were always going to be slim if not non-existent. To be honest, I’d very much want to forget in a hurry Germany’s dramatic Extra Time loss to Italy at the Westfallenstadion. I did catch a few minutes of the Portugal v France tie from the window of the Library’s Audio-Visual room (the struggle, I tell you). In fact, I got there just in time as Zidane buried home the match-winning penalty to send Les Bleus to yet another final. At half time, I went to sleep.

Third Place Play Off

This proved to be Bastian Schweinsteiger’s induction to the big stage stardom as he overshadowed everything and everyone, scoring twice (including a brilliant free kick) and having his effort at the hour mark turned in by Petit for an own goal to make it 3-0 to the hosts. Nuno Gomes pulled one back later on for Portugal, denying Oliver Kahn a clean sheet in his last match for his motherland. It wasn’t quite the match Germany hoped to be winning, but even for me as a Die NationalElf fan, Klinsi’s boys made me proud.

Final

Italy v France, for a chance to be crowned world champion, was all set. Their paths to Berlin’s Olympic Stadium drew stark parallels, with Italy having been effective and efficient, while France squeaking past the group stage only to find their grove in the knock out rounds. Someone at the school had had a moral epiphanyof sorts and a screen was installed at the Dining Hall for us thirsting for this match. Thank heavens!

I don’t know why, but my preference was for the Azzurri to win. When Florent Malouda fell in the area and France was awarded a penalty in the 6^th minute, I thought that maybe the gods were bent on tearing up my script. Zidane converted, Panenka-ing Gianluigi Buffon, though he was lucky as the ball hit the underside of the bar and just about managed to cross the line. First blood, Les Bleus. Italy’s response didn’t take long as barely a quarter an hour later; Marco Materazzi pounded the net with a header from an Andrea Pirlo corner for the equalizer. From then on neither nation would fail to breach the other’s defence as the players grew fatigued and cramped. Patrick Vieira and Henry had to be subbed off due to physical issues. Then in Extra Time came possibly the century’s moment of madness. All we could see was that play was stopped and confusion ensued. Then Argentine referee Horacio Elizondo after conferring with the linesman flashed out a red card and next thing, the great Zinedine Zidane was trudging off past the trophy, head bowed into the tunnel. What had he done! Then finally tv replays showed Zidane walking away, then turning round and viciously head butting Materazzi. To say it was shocking is an understatement. To do that in his last ever football match? Well, Zizou’s after all Zizou’s from Marseille and they are temperamental like that.

Zidane loses his head, Materazzi loses his footing

With Vieira and Henry subbed off, Zidane sent off and the match hurtling to the lottery that is the shoot outs, you could see it in the face of the French fans that they had lost. Those three surely would be among their most trusted penalty takers but they would not be taking part. As it turned out, Pirlo, Materazzi, Danielle De Rossi, Alessandro Del Piero; Sylvain Wiltord, Eric Abidal and Willy Sagnol all converted their kicks. Who didn’t? The one who six years before had scored the Golden Goal that won France the Euros over Italy failed to convert. Yes, just like in the 2003 Champions League final, David Trezeguet missed. It was then left to the impressive left back Fabio Grosso to win it for the Azzurri…and he did! Italy were the Champions of the World. As captain Fabio Cannavarro lifted that trophy to the heavens, I think I was happy and thoroughly delighted.

Fabio Cannavarro lifts aloft the World Cup title.

So that was Germany 2006, a tournament I didn’t really enjoy as much as I would have liked thanks to school, but hey, that’s life. Hope you had a hell of a month though.

Time = Success? Or Success = Time?

Lately I’ve been engrossed deeply in the managerial career of one Josep Guardiola. Why? You could place it on boredom or idleness, given that just the other week I was officially done with my undergraduate studies (the course work, at least) so maybe I have more than adequate time to spare. That, among other more legitimate reasons like the fact that he coaches my favorite Bundesliga club, FC Bayern Munich but mostly due to the fact that in his 5 years of top flight coaching, he’s been ridiculously successful.
On the other hand, during my frequent twitter football dissections, this time with good friend Sylli, we’ve basically been waging a ‘war’ of words (per se) on whether a football club is better off with a manager who stays for long or for the short term. Yes, the age-old argument of longevity in management against short termism. At this juncture I have to point out that both Pep and I do not believe in longevity. I just had to. Anyway, in Pep’s case, he defines longevity (in absolutely not so many words) as more than 3 years on the same job, whereas I would say 4 years. Ah, margin of error of + or -1. We can work with that. Sylli meanwhile (and I hope I haven’t misrepresented him) believes that one needs to stay at a club long enough to entrench his philosophies, build team(s), nurture and bring forth young talent and basically just stay there. Simply put, in his case we are talking up something like 5, 10+ years.
Let me reiterate and this is without the slightest care for whichever feathers I may be ruffling: after staying 4 years managing a football club, I do not know what you are still doing there. I really don’t. And no, I don’t care how successful you become post the four years. Why? I’ll explain as we move along. Now this argument above really stems from the fact that Sylli is a Manchester United fan while I’m of the Arsenal persuasion. If you are looking for the best depiction of the contrasting cases of longevity, then United and Arsenal are the best case studies. United are still reeling from the retirement of Sir Alex Ferguson last year after having been at the club’s helm for 26 years. Arsenal on the other hand have had Arsene Wenger running things for almost 18 years now. Fergie, despite struggling in his first 7 years, delivered title after title and left as the Premier League’s (and possibly the world’s) most successful manager ever. Wenger meanwhile, in his first 8 or 9 years was as all-conquering as they come, but his last 10 years have been nothing to move anything or anyone in the silverware stakes.
So always, one after another, people will point out to me that if my belief of 4 years maximum held any water, both Fergie and Wenger, the two grandmasters of English football would probably not have had the chance to be that successful. Which is true, I admit. But then again I hit back with this: how sure are you that none of their would-be subsequent replacements would have been successes? Right? No one can ever be sure, because it is speculative…what might have been. Again, my counter argument is that in the two managers’ environments of the ‘80s and ‘90s things were a bit different from what they currently are. Different in the sense that the club chairmen at the time were relatively more patient than they are now, with there not being many oligarchs or tycoons to suddenly inject the cash and transform a rival club’s fortunes, it was easier for a manager with an above average coaching ability to maintain a high level of success over a long period of time. My views are essentially restricted to the current age and in light of my deductions, it was far easier for longevity to thrive during Wenger’s and Fergie’s heydays than it is at the moment.
Over at United, given how their season has underwhelmed under new man David Moyes, the fans have been divided over whether or not Moyes deserves to be given time to bring success to this storied club. Their conundrum can be summed up thus: there are those (the majority) who believe that time guarantees success, while there are others who believe that success guarantees time. In Sir Alex’s case, certainly the former held true but it isn’t going to be the case for Moyes who was sacked just yesterday after that poor 0-2 loss to Everton at his former stomping ground, Goodison Park. I wouldn’t want to indulge in the politics of United, and so to the numerous queries of what I make of Moyes’ fate, I simply go back and forth on him being given time, depending on my judgment of what the prober would like to hear. Deep down though, for me, only success should guarantee time.
Guardiola led Barca to their most successful period in their illustrious history – just 4 years it took him. They won 2 Champions League titles, 3 straight La Ligas, 2 Club World Cup crowns, 2 Copa Del Reys among others in an incredible 14 trophy haul. Everyone of course expected that he would carry on beyond that, I mean, he had success on his side, so it would only be fair that time join his side, right? He didn’t and towards the end of his tenure at Camp Nou, he seemed disillusioned, stressed, unmotivated, troubled. The effort he had put in building the greatest club side of all time (a title his current Bayern side is keen to wrest away) had drained him, both physically and mentally. Pep, whenever asked by the Barca chiefs to commit further, would say that he feared he’d reached a point where he had nothing new to offer his players, or that his messages would not have the same effect, or (gravely) that him and his players would only end up hurting each other as opposed to driving each other on to greater heights (if any). In fact, it could be viewed that Pep must have felt his final year at Barca was one too many.
The above story about Pep goes a long way to give flesh to my main point against longevity in club football management. It is impossible to maintain a high level of productivity over a long period of time. I’ve said impossible, not improbable. If you are hired by a club on (the almost usual) a 3 year contract, and you hit the ground running, winning almost everything instantly and throughout that period, obviously the most logical thing in the eyes of the club bosses, players, fans and neutrals would be that you extend your stay. But is it the wisest thing to do? Can you be able to maintain the same work ethic, enthusiasm and results in the next 2, 3, 4+ years? Let’s be honest; the only way then is down. Difference may be that probably for some, performance would dip drastically, while some coaches may be able to produce reasonable, albeit diminished levels of performance in said period.
Staying too long at a job, whichever job, makes you too comfortable and when you are too comfortable, you can’t realize your (or your charges’) full potential. Look at Arsene Wenger. He started off at Highbury by revolutionizing aspects of English football like diet, fitness etc and this drove Arsenal to the top, competing favourably to deflect Man United’s would-be monopoly on success. Wenger changed Arsenal’s approach, making them the purveyors of fast, attacking football that would blow opponents away and culminated in the ‘Invincibles’ of 2003-04. But with the entry of Roman Abramovich at Chelsea, football dynamics changed for good. Chelsea could buy any player or manager they fancied and sequentially, on pitch success followed. The likes of Wenger had to adapt. He did not. Certainly not in the manner that he signed players, or in the type of players he signed. Later, Sheikh Mansour and co took over at Manchester City and the competition became even stiffer. Arsenal hasn’t been able to fight for (and win) titles mainly because Wenger has always believed his methods, which worked a decade ago, could weather this money-fuelled storm. Add to the fact that he’s viewed as a sort of football demi-god by his club, his job is never going to be in threat. Why? He’s stayed long enough like a baobab tree and become too comfortable. Irrespective of how his team performs at the end of the season, he can’t be moved. Does the club benefit from this?
It has always been believed that having short term managers is a conduit for instability. Probably this is true. I think different though. If a club has strong leadership structures, should it really matter who the manager/coach is? As long as I’ve been following Bayern (since 2000) they’ve had, among others, Ottmar Hitzfeld, Felix Magath, Juergen Klinsmann, Luis Van Gaal, Juup Heynckes and now Pep Guardiola as managers (I could have omitted some) and still, Bayern has remained the biggest club in Germany, won European titles and attracted some of the finest talents on offer. Chelsea have had Jose Mourinho (two spells), Avram Grant, Luiz Felipe Scolari, Guus Hiddink, Carlo Ancelotti, Andre Villas-Boas, Roberto Di Matteo, Rafael Benitez etc and still challenged and won domestic titles as well as being the most consistent European performer from among the English elite over the past 10 seasons. I could say the same about Barcelona or Real Madrid. Point is, these are big clubs that have shuffled and reshuffled their decks of managerial cards a bit too often but it hasn’t always meant that standards have dropped, or a prolonged slump has crept in. It is not who is in charge that matters, evidently, but the strength of the structures that make up the institution.
Contrary to in the past, more and more football enthusiasts at a young age are opting to go for opportunities in the technical aspect of the game than the playing aspect. More young people are studying football to be coaches, and as a result, there’s an influx of young managers with brilliant ideas on how to play the game that are causing ripples and changing perceptions with their maverick approaches. I shudder to imagine where the like of Diego Simeone, Brendan Rodgers, Thomas Tuchel, Roberto Martinez etc would be if the people before them had been shielded by the longevity umbrella and kept on to maintain status quo.
Longevity or not, I believe in one thing. Get the job and produce results, immediately. No two ways about that. After you’ve done that, move on elsewhere, and let someone else come in and do his thing. Let football ideas and tactics circulate. Embrace change or force the change. After all, as they say, time and tide waits for no man.
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