"The fifth angel sounded, and I saw a star from the sky which had fallen to the earth. The key to the pit of The Ibyss was given to him.
He opened the pit of The Ibyss, and smoke went up out of the pit, like the smoke from a burning furnace. The sun and the air were darkened because of the smoke from the pit. "
Revelations 9:1-2
The new season is still in it's infancy and we have our first major diving controversy. It's like we've never been away. Manchester United's first home win under new manager David Moyes was marred by the actions of Ashley Young who was guilty of at least one diving offence during the game against Crystal Palace. Having been already been booked for 'simulation' during the first half, Young then controversially 'won' United a penalty after going down following a challenge by The Eagles' South African midfielder Kagisho Dikcagoi. Leaving aside the fact a penalty was an incorrect decision simply because the 'foul' took place outside the box, there are questions raised over whether it was even a foul at all. As we've established, Ashley Young had no issue trying to con the ref earlier in the same game and it was only a year or so back when he was being roundly condemned following two similar incidents against QPR and his former club Aston Villa.
Defence of such incidents usually has some former pro (9 out of 10 times, it's Michael Owen) incorrectly claiming that if the contact is there, a player is 'entitled to go down'. We also hear talk of 'inviting contact' and 'drawing fouls' to attempt blur the lines even further but this merely serves to ignore the obvious point that contact does not necessary mean an offence has been committed. Dikcagoi was clumsy and he did 'touch' Young but does that really constitute a foul? Call me an idealist but until the law is changed to outlaw any physical contact in the game, I don't really see how you can justify taking a tumble based on the slightest graze from an opposition player. Are you really 'entitled to go down' if no foul is actually committed? Even when an infringement is attempted, if a player is able to stay on his feet, there shouldn't really be an encouragement for him to do otherwise.
The fact that this is open to debate shows that the battle to rid the game of such behaviour is probably already lost. Diving seems, sadly, to be a part of the fabric of the game. Stan Collymore, one the more vocal former players, wasn't shy in putting forward this view when he tweeted the following in relation to Young:
Hate seeing English players dive. Just looks do wrong. Used to be a badge of honour to stay on your feet. #ashleyyoung
I don't necessarily buy into the “good ol' days, when men were men” soundbites usually trotted out by those who don't understand that the game has moved on significantly since the days of knee-high tackles, pitches resembling First World War trenches and terrace racism. However, Collymore has a point about the 'badge of honour'. Standing up for yourself (literally and metaphorically) was something a player would pride himself on. Not now, it seems.
Unfortunately, his argument falls apart when he brings nationality in the equation. Stating that you specifically hate seeing English players cheat suggests that you are more concerned about taking the moral high ground rather than wanting to see the problem eradicated completely.
And while we're at it, it may seem absurd to show any sympathy towards Ashley Young but why should he be the only one singled out? It's almost impossible to imagine that he will be the only player involved in a diving debate this season.
It all contributes to the prevalent culture of cheating that exists in the game. Players seek an advantage wherever they can, both fairly or unfairly - be it incorrectly claiming corners/throw ins when the ball goes out of play or time wasting to run down the clock. We've all seen incidents where attacking players deliberately play the ball into the outstretched arms of defenders to win penalties. Is that actually any worse than diving to achieve the same outcome? Genuine question.
Perceived underhand tactics rarely receive prolonged widespread condemnation. At least not to a point where anyone is likely to do anything about it. David Moyes has claimed to have had a word with Young but then again, so did Sir Alex Ferguson previously. Teams are hardly dropping, fining or selling players for their misdemeanours. Cheating in football isn't punished sufficiently and while people believe they can get away with it, it will continue to take place. As Young (and others) knows, sometimes you get the breaks, other times not. If he wins his side 2 or 3 penalties a season, I'm sure he'd be prepared to take the odd yellow card too.
Ask the fans and they'll tell you it's wrong - but only when others do it. If it's their team, you can expect some of the most tenuous interpretations of the laws in order to justify their man doing the dirty. Taking this example, you'll have Liverpool fans slaughtering Young yet defending Suarez and United fans doing the same with the protagonists reversed. Worst of all, you get some fans attempting to explain away one of their players cheating by pointing out that "everyone else is at it". The hypocrisy is enough to make your head explode.
You even sometimes hear such behaviour described as 'clever'. When this is the accepted rhetoric used, it almost feels embarrassing to try and suggest that fairness and/or sportsmanship should even be considered. The win-at-all-costs mentality means that, sadly, these two unwanted guests have no place in the modern game. Dive on.
Saturday May 12th 1990. A hyperactive six year old child with a slightly oversized head is running around a Camden Town council flat. He has no plan, no aim, no real sense of what is going on. All he knows is that it's the weekend and he wants to go and knock for his mates so they could go enjoy the springtime sunshine in the communal play area. Said play area doesn't feature much. A swing, a slide, but also some walls which he and his pals would like to climb and jump from, showing flagrant disregard for their own safety and well being. For all his enthusiasm however, the child was still one to be easily distracted by other things, television being the main one. That big grey box of light in the living room would so often prove to be the draw that prevented him from indulging his desire to leave the house and hone in his playful instincts.
The young lad had more than likely been awake for some hours watching cartoons and children's programmes. While his poor mum was busy shopping/cooking/attending to her two year old daughter, the big headed boy would be planted in front of the box. Today, something strange was happening. BBC One seemed to be talking an awful lot about football. “How strange” the boy figured. “football matches are only ever televised on Sunday”. It didn't take long for him to deduce that it was the FA Cup Final. The boy was slightly confused. Just a few months earlier, he had sat down to watch Nottingham Forest beat Oldham to win 'the Cup' (after which, he decided that Forest were naturally the best team in the country...nay, the world!) so why was there another final so soon? “It must be a different cup. For rubbish teams” was the unwavering conclusion he drew.
The game would feature Crystal Palace. A side from from his very own city of London. A team of plucky heroes and underdogs who had defied the odds to make it to their first ever final. The television kept saying what an amazing achievement it would be if they were to beat their opponents, some fairly average team from the north called Manchester United who never really won much themselves in those days. Naturally, the boy was swayed and, on this day alone, would be cheering on this side affectionately referred to as the Eagles. Seeing as their opponents' nickname was the 'Red Devils', the boy knew his churchgoing mother would certainly not approve of him lending his support to them. They were the bad guys and as Ghostbusters and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles had taught him, the bad guys always lose at the end.
Except, as we would soon discover, these bad guys didn't lose. Ever.
After a thrilling 3-3 draw, the game was set for a replay. The boy still hoped for a Palace win in the return game the following Thursday. However, as it was a school night, he wasn't allowed to stay up and watch it so the following morning when he discovered that a Lee Martin goal had settled the game in favour of 'The Devils', he was understandably, albeit temporarily disappointed (That was, of course, until something else grabbed his attention).
That was Sir Alex Ferguson's first trophy as manager of Manchester United. Even in my youthful naivety it made me somewhat miserable at the time. But it didn't matter. It was just one trophy. For a side without a particularly great recent record of success, I foolishly imagined people would barely even remember this isolated victory a year down the line. If you told me back then that I'd have to get used to it as the next 23 years of my life would be the same, I would have thought you were crazy and told everyone in school not to be your friend any more.
Curiously, such was Manchester United's level of mediocrity at the time, the accepted belief is that the United boss was on the brink of getting sacked and it was that cup win that saved his job. Appointed in 1986, the first four years of his tenure could only be described as bang average. A mid table side who would would only fleetingly flirt with with the top of the table before returning to irrelevance and obscurity. Ferguson's debut match was 2-0 league defeat to Oxford United which tells you all you need to know about the stature of the club at the time. Growing up in London back then you wouldn't have known many United fans. Nowadays, you are never more than six feet away from one. Like rats...
Going into 1990, there was actually a real risk of the Reds being drawn into a relegation battle. The club were on an awful run in the league having gone eight games without a win and an upcoming FA Cup 3rd round tie against the abovementioned Forest – one of the division's stronger sides – didn't look particularly enticing. As I say, it is widely believed that a loss would have seen Ferguson handed his P45. Something that would not have been an unpopular move. Three months before the Forest game, United actually lost 2-1 at home to Palace prompting one disgruntled fan to knock up a banner expressing his frustrations. Thankfully, Mark Robins popped up to score the only goal to give United a narrow win and buy Fergie some precious time. Had it not been for Robins, who knows what the future would have held for the club? Names touted to take over apparently included Terry Venables. Amazing, isn't it?
United finished the season in 13th place – a mere five points above the relegation zone and actually level on points with their cup final opponents. It's difficult to imagine Alex Ferguson would have kept his job but for the cup victory. Needless to say, it was all uphill from there. Sir Alex has since added four more FA Cup wins to his CV making him the most successful manager in the competition's history and United the most successful team with a grand total of 11 wins.
Two years later, Ferguson and United won the League Cup with a 1-0 victory over Nottingham Forest – the first in the club's long history and something he has gone on to repeat three more times. Only Brian Clough, the man he beat in 1992, has won as many as a manager.
However, the holy grail for United was, is and has always been the League. Sir Matt Busby was the last man to lead to club to championship success back in 1967 so their push in the final season of the old First Division had been a long time coming. Unfortunately for Ferguson, they were narrowly edged into second place by Leeds United.
The opportunity to win a first league title in 25 years that season was denied partly due to a late season 2-0 defeat against great rivals Liverpool. The Merseysiders themselves were at the end of a two decade run of unrivalled success which saw them rise and sit alone at the summit of the English game with 18 league titles. Well clear of Arsenal's 10 and United's 7. The history of hatred between the two clubs is extensive so it is fair to say, there would have been a fair bit of belly laughing and schadenfreude after derailing United's title bid.
Not to be deterred, the inaugural season of the Premier League in 1993 saw Ferguson, with the signing of Leeds' best player Eric Cantona, finally win that much sought after league crown and set the wheels in motion for a period of dominance that would eclipse that of the North West chums. Speaking in 2002, Ferguson unashamedly declared that his greatest challenge was “knocking Liverpool right off their fucking perch”. A motivation perhaps sparked by the fact that following that initial Premier League success, Liverpool fans, in keeping with the theme of unwisely unfurled banners, proudly suggested that Fergie's solitary title was somewhat insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
Like my 6 year old self, if only they knew what was to come...
We were sold the idea of the Premier League thinking it would open up competition, allowing different teams to grow, challenge and flourish in this new, all inclusive division. New money, new investment and an attractive new environment for players home and and abroad to thrive. “A whole new ball game” we were told. United winning the first title was actually a good thing as it gave hope to other success starved teams. “if they can do it, so can we” was the thinking. Unfortunately, the devious little Scot had other ideas. He was far from finished.
20 years and 12 more League titles later, Ferguson has not simply knocked Liverpool off their perch, he has single handedly burnt said perch to the ground. And it's not just the scousers. Everyone else in the country have been straining their necks to look over the fortress wall as Sir Alex sits in his throne, decorating himself more lavishly each passing year. None of this is by accident, though. Never afraid to let go, Ferguson has ruthlessly dismantled and rebuilt teams who have continuously remained at the forefront of the English game. Whenever it looked as though we may be thankfully seeing the end of their tyrannical reign, they would, in true super villian fashion, only came back stronger.
And it's not just domestically his presence has been felt. Following that initial FA Cup victory, two Mark Hughes goals in Rotterdam secured the European Cup Winners' Cup against Barcelona the following year. Eight years on, the Catalonian capital would be the scene of arguably Ferguson's greatest triumph. With a league title and FA Cup already in the bag, all that stood in the way of a historic treble was Bayern Munich. 1-0 down early on, Ferguson really earned his corn by throwing on substitutes Sheringham and Solskjaer late in the game and, well, you all know the story.
A nauseating outcome for the rest of us. Bitter accusations of good fortune and the whole thing being a “fluke” were levelled. But there was also the reluctant acknowledgement, as if there was any lingering doubt before, that we were seeing one of the greatest managers in the long history of the game. Despite the fact it was only United's second success in Europe's premier competition compared to Liverpool's four at the time, it was safe to assume there would be no goading banners at Anfield this time around.
Ferguson added another European crown in 2008 after beating Chelsea on penalties and has since reached two more finals – coming unstuck against brilliant Barcelona teams on both occasions, but firmly enshrining his place among the European elite.
However, despite the drive and determination that has brought him incomparable levels of success, there is an almost spiteful nature at its heart which fuels his pursuit of glory. For years, we've had to put up with the whining and complaining when things do not go his way. Referees, the media and even his own players have all felt his wrath at one time or another. The infamous 'hairdryer' iconology is a direct result of his unchallengeable approach to management, and this has even led to high profile fallings out within his own club. Many would point to his dispute with JP McManus and John Magnier leading to the deeply unpopular Glazer family running the club.
His general demeanour doesn't exactly endear him to the neutral. The desire to see United fail and concept of ABU (Anyone But United) can be attributed to primarily to Ferguson and the way he has gone about his business down the years. That said, this is what makes the man and if he didn't have this aspect of his character, he wouldn't have achieved everything he has done.
It was not simply the success which made him a great but the way in which he has responded to set backs and fought off challenges to his supremacy from a number of different foes. Like a boxer or character from a computer beat 'em up game, Ferguson has always had to adapt and refine his fighting style based on different opponents. From Kenny Dalglish and Blackburn, Kevin Keegan's Newcastle, Arsene Wenger at Arsenal, Mourinho at Chelsea, Bentiez's Liverpool and most recently, Mancini at City, the Scot has managed to rise to any challenge and leave them all in his wake. When Ferguson gets into a scrap, you can bet your life he is not walking away until he has won. In football terms, 'Sir' Alex is actually very much like a Knight of the more traditional sense; metaphorically galloping around the country on horseback laying waste to any perceived threat to his kingdom.
I refuse to believe that I am alone in having spent my entire football watching life sneering at his success but begrudgingly had to accept and acknowledge his unmatchable brilliance. The fact that many, many fans up and down the country are not able to gloat or even celebrate the retirement of the greatest manager they've ever seen but only express relief, is perhaps one of the biggest compliments that can be paid to the man.
Match of the weekend
After an epic 3-3 draw last season, Manchester United and Chelsea renewed pleasantries at Stamford Bridge in a match that will, for better or for worse, leave a permanent imprint – or perhaps stain – on this, or perhaps any season of the Premier League. The two sides, supporters and officials did their damnedest to squeeze as much incident as was humanly possible into the time allocated between kick off and full time.
The visitors closed the gap on their hosts at the top of the table to just one point with a dramatic 3-2 win - a scoreline Sir Alex's men seems to have trademarked this season. Having previously netted five times in his only two previous appearances at Chelsea while playing for Arsenal, Robin van Persie again proved to be the proverbial thorn in the side of the West Londoners as his 3rd minute shot cannoned off the post and into David Luiz who was helpless as the ball bounced off him and into net. The Dutch striker doubled the lead not long after and the reds, arguably for the first time this season, looked in total control.
The much talked about Chelsea midfield Ménage à trois of Eden Hazard, Juan Mata and Oscar was left frustrated as United were fairly comfortable with anything that was thrown in their direction. Anything that did sneak through was dealt with by David De Gea.
That was until just a few minutes before half time. Frustrated having ceded possession to the abovementioned Hazard, Wayne Rooney showed all the intelligence of a brain-damaged polar bear on a mushroom trip as he stupidly hacked down the tricky Belgian on the edge of the penalty area. This provided an invitation for the superb Mata to curl a wonderful free kick round the United wall and past De Gea to halve the deficit.
United’s defence has been under incredible scrutiny so far this term due to their basic inability to... well, defend. Just two clean sheets in the preceeding 8 league games tells its own story and while initially things seemed to be going to plan, the concession of the first Chelsea goal on Sunday seemed to be a signal to abandon any sense of discipline. An equaliser seemed inevitable and less than 10 minutes into the second half, Ramieres provided it with close range header from an Oscar cross.
The stage was set for a grand stand finale. Would United respond or implode? Could Chelsea push on for the win? The answers we sought to these questions were indeed provided. Unfortunately, they came less through the influence of either team on the pitch than they did from the officials. With half an hour remaining, Branislav Ivanovic was rightly sent off for clipping Ashley Young and denying him a clear goal scoring opportunity. The home side’s task instantly became more difficult but was made damn near impossible just five minutes later following Mark Clattenburg’s inexplicable decision to issue Fernando Torres with a second yellow card for a perceived dive when the Spaniard had clearly been fouled by Johnny Evans.
Having already been reduced to 10 men, it’s difficult to say whether the European Champions would have got anything from the game. However, they would certainly have at least had something of a fighting chance with Torres on the pitch. The second red card didn't so much hand United the initiative insofar as it was presented to them on a silver platter.
Over the past two decades, be it rightly or wrongly, football fans have always believed Manchester United to regularly be on the receiving end of favourable decisions from referees. 'Fergie time' has become an accepted part of the football lexicon and the general reaction from away fans upon the Reds being rewarded a penalty at Old Trafford, deserved or not, is simply an eyeroll, a tut and a mutter of the word 'typical'.
There’s obviously no evidence whatsoever to suggest that any sort of influence/pressure on officials exists but the frequency with which we find ourselves discussing these incidents undoubtedly allows paranoia to grow and people to fuel their suspicions.
Although on this particular on this occasion, many would simply draw the conclusion that the man in the middle, despite supposedly being among the best in the world, is, to put it as kindly as possible, prone to the odd glaring error rather then being biased. You'd be hard pressed to find a fan of any club who couldn't provide an example of a Clattenburg clanger that has hurt their team. United supporters themselves have been quick to point out that Torres might have walked earlier when his clumsy high kick on Tom Cleverly only received a yellow. Was Clattenberg merely 'correcting' his earlier faux pas? It's more likely the case he just made two equally bad decisions.
So is he corrupt or just incompetent? Neither description paints a particularly pretty picture of the Durham official.
To make matters worse, the reds sealed a dramatic 3-2 win thanks to a goal from Javier Hernandez that was so blatantly offside, the Mexican may as well have been in another time zone (Mexico's, for example). The assistant’s failure to spot this just punctuated what turned out to be a rather dismal weekend for top flight officials. A similar goal was wrongly allowed to stand at the Emirates as Arsenal beat QPR 1-0 while in the Merseyside derby, the odious Luis Suarez was wrongly adjudged to be in an offside position as he scored Liverpool’s last gasp would-be winner against their city rivals. Two points were cruelly snatched away from Brendan Rodgers’ side as the game finished 2-2.
The tragedy of all these talking points is that a brilliant game of football has gone largely unnoticed. One of reasons the title slipped from United's grasp last season was their reluctance to "go for it" in away games against rivals. The meek surrender at Eastlands being the prime and ultimately most costly example. Lessons seemed to have been learned as they dominated the opening exchanges here and were duly rewarded. However, while defensive problems remain, the cavalier approach is always going to be a risk hence the reason this turned out to be the fifth 3-2 result (as well as a 4-2 against Stoke) they've been involved in this season with less than a quarter of the campaign gone.
Despite the loss, many people will still have Chelsea down as favourites for the title this year. Like United, problems are evident in defence but the collective firepower in attack will be enough to overwhelm most teams. Having fought back from 2-0 down, I don't think there are many that would argue that if it remained 11 v 11, they would more than likely have won the game. Still sitting pretty at the top of the league, the loss is unlikely to have any lasting effects.
Racist allegation of the Weekend
Curiously, the erroneously awarded red card and winning goal were not even the most controversial incidents at Stamford Bridge on Sunday. Classy, cuddly bunch that they are, the Chelsea faithful, from first minute to last, insisted on jeering and abusing Rio Ferdinand for having the gall to be related to someone who was racially abused by their captain. These fans continued to cover themselves in glory as they decided to shower the United players with coins as they celebrated Hernandez' goal. You can't even afford them the excuse of the goal being offside to fuel their indignation given that very few of them would have been aware at that particular moment that the goal shouldn't have been allowed to stand. In the same incident, some supporters felt it necessary to take out their frustrations on a steward, causing him an injury that required hospital treatment. Any sympathy for them having seen their side robbed by the referee took very little time to disappear.
Somehow even this was pushed into the shade when, in the aftermath, the club filed an official complaint to the FA about the controversial Clattenburg, citing the use of "inappropriate language" directed at two of their players during the game. While the irony of Chelsea Football Club having the audacity to accuse anyone else of this offence is lost on absolutely no-one, the seriousness of the claim should not be ignored. Especially given that fevered speculation has suggested the official racially abused Jon Obi Mikel as well as insulting another Blue.
The allegation casts yet another dark cloud over the game. As we finally shut the door on one race saga, another swiftly decides to show up on your front porch uninvited (presumably wearing a white sheet and burning a cross on your lawn as well).
It would be remiss to speculate while investigation is ongoing but Chelsea would have to be pretty certain about what supposedly took place in order to pursue this complaint. Then again, surely Clattenburg cannot be THAT stupid to make such comments, particularly in the current climate when football's problems with race are such a hot topic. On one hand, you could potentially have one of the FA's top referees potentially guilty of racism which would prove nothing short of a disaster for the already battered integrity of the sport. While on the flipside, Clattenburg clearing his name would quite simply confirm that Chelsea football club, from the very top down, are untrustworthy liars making an extremely misguided attempt to deflect their recent troubles onto someone else. This is literally the last thing their reputation needs on top of everything else.
While we all hope this is resolved sooner rather than later, it can be probably be agreed that there will be no outcome in this case would be 'good' news.
Player of the weekend
Few (none?) particularly outstanding performances so I'm just going to give it to Frank Lampard... or Scott Parker.
Save of the weekend
It would be easy to wheel out the 'silenced his critics' line that often accompanies David De Gea's now regularly impressive performances but it would ultimately prove pointless given that you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who doesn't now recognise his obvious talent. If any doubters remain, an incredible reflex clawed stop from a Fernando Torres in the first half of Sunday's match should make them sit up and take note.
Goal of the weekend
But for the events at Stamford Bridge and Goodison Park, the 3-3 ding dong played out at the Madjeski between Reading and Fulham would have been the standout game of the weekend. An end to end slugfest that couldn't produce a winner but had no trouble producing a number of great goals. Mikele Leigertwood's fantastic opener for the Royals and Dimitar Berbatov's late strike stood out in themselves but both were bettered by Bryan Ruiz' wonderful rifled drive which swerved its way between two defenders and managed to dip just under the crossbar leaving Alex McCarthy in the Reading goal stunned.
Dive of the weekend
The merseyside derby, and all the attention prematch was predictably on Luis Suarez and his frequent forays to get better acquainted with the turf despite never actually being fouled. David Moyes had made some damning comments beforehand but he hadn't reckoned on his own captain being the culprit on the day. Anticipating a non-existent challenge from Daniel Agger, Phil Neville went down faster than a drunken reveller falling out of Alma De Cuba on a typical night out in the Liverpool city centre. The most amusing thing was the fact that the former United man was quite clearly not experienced enough in the dark arts to execute even a remotely convincing dive and just ended up looking daft.
In fairness, he fronted up to the cameras afterwards and admitted his act of folly. Such was the embarrassing way he failed to pull off the manoeuvre, it's probably safe to say he won't be attempting any Suarez impressions again any time soon.
Ballsiest moment of the weekend
Speaking of whom, the dislikable Uruguayan put in a typically eventful headline-grabbing display scoring Liverpool's second, escaping a red card for a disgusting stamp on Sylvain Distin and as mentioned above, scoring a legitimate goal that was wrongly disallowed. Before all that however, having set up his side's opener (which went in via Leighton Baines) Suarez took it upon himself to celebrate by sprinting up to the Everton bench and, yep, DIVED at the feet of David Moyes. The Everton manager took it in good spirits but most people would generally know better than to attempt to wind up the firey Glaswegian who could only be technically described as 'Fucking nails'. In a Premier League battle royale, few would look further than Moyes as a potential victor so in that sense, credit must go to Suarez. He might act like a complete pussy at times but he clearly has balls made of solid steel.
There was a time when the teams at the Premier League summit would go into matches against one another exercising caution and contesting dull, cagey low scoring encounters that did nothing to back up the claim that the English top flight is "The Best League in the World". However, all that seems to have changed this season. Who would have thought at just a quarter of the way through the campaign we would have seen the kind of jaw-dropping, pinch yourself, lay off the LSD type of scorelines from the head-to-heads between the top clubs? Manchester City have demolished crosstown rivals and current champions United. They also went to White Hart Lane and tore Champions League hopefuls Tottenham a new one. Spurs themselves responded to that beating by giving Liverpool something of a pasting.
Then there's Arsenal. A truly disastrous start to the season was compounded with a miserable afternoon at Old Trafford. The astounding 8-2 set back against Manchester United was less a football match but more a kind of snuff film. Going into this weekend's game against Chelsea at Stamford Bridge, not many people would have given them a prayer. I'm willing to bet that, to a man, every single Arsenal supporter on the planet would have taken a draw if offered on Friday evening. But alas, this unpredictable mistress that we call football pulls another surprise from of her bag of tricks in the form of the Gunners' astonishing 5-3 victory.
One of the many criticisms levelled at Arsenal over the weeks (years?) concerns a supposed lack of leadership. If Robin van Persie's umpteenth barnstorming performance and subsequent hat-trick are not considered a form of leadership then you're going to have to sit me down in a classroom and have a qualified teacher tell me what is. He may not be the 'shouter' that we are told every team worth their salt requires but by God does he lead by example. His latest treble made it 28 goals in 27 league matches this calendar year. If other players in the Arsenal team could find a level of consistency anywhere near that, then the team would be in far better shape that it currently finds itself.
One player in particular whose general performances are about as random as a bag of licorice allsorts is Theo Walcott. Having had something of a hit and miss season (career?), young Theo reserved his best showing for Saturday when he gave Ashley Cole more problems than a hairdresser with a kiss and tell story. His contribution to the scoresheet was something special too.
Having gone behind twice and then allowing Chelsea to equalise at 3-3, It was a surprising turn up for the books to see the Arsenal team stand firm and show rare but tremendous character to win the match so emphatically. Especially given the frequency of humiliating collapses that have occurred far, far too often in recent years. The win puts them just 3 points behind their vanquished opponents and, whisper it, back on course to challenge for a top four finish.
Since that fateful day in Manchester, talk of the club's supposed demise have filled more column inches in the Sports media than anything else. The number of back page leads declaring a crisis at the Emirates would probably exceed the number of journalists employed to write them.
What has gone unnoticed it would seem is the fact that since a befuddling 4-3 setback at Blackburn, the supposedly beleaguered Arsene Wenger has now led his team to 8 wins in 9 games in three competitions. If that's a crisis, 95% of football teams must be in complete meltdown.
More so than most teams, discussion of Arsenal falls foul of that lazy way of observing football whereby if something isn't fantastic then by default it must be complete shit. No other club is spoken of in such black and white terms and we're all guilty of it. The football is always described as 'wonderful' even when it isn't. The youth policy is always described as a success even when things go a bit Jérémie Aliadière. On the flip side, failure to win a trophy for a few years apparently means that the whole club needs rebuilding from the top down. People also draw the conclusion that selling player X automatically means the club is in freefall. Arsene Wenger is either a genius or a clown. They MUST buy or they MUST not. There is very rarely middle ground. Nobody in Islington will pretend that all is rosy in the Arsenal garden but the apocalyptic headlines that have been written about the club this season have bordered on absurd. The team have definitely started to show signs of turning that mythical corner.
Admittedly, the recent good run hadn't exactly seen them take on the cream of world football and they have been blessed with a number of home matches so when people spoke of a trip to Stamford Bridge being a 'true test' of any supposed Arsenal revival, the point was most certainly a valid one especially given that their last league win on the road was waaaaaay back against relegated Blackpool in the spring.
Not only did they pass the test, but they pretty much received top marks. It's not quite time to proclaim the second coming of the Invincibles but it might make one two people think twice before writing eulogies for the North Londoners.
Of course, one thing that still seems inescapable are the prevalent frailties in defence. Arsenal's makeshift backline was typically far from secure. Andre Santos, Per Mertesaker and Johan Djourou had a torrid time of it on Saturday lunchtime and were culpable for at least two of the three goals conceded and made a number of other laughable mistakes throughout.
However, if this is an accusation you can lay at the door of the Arsenal team, what then does one say about Chelsea? The Blues conceded five at home. FIVE! An unthinkable scenario in recent years. Since their Abramovich-funded ascension up the table, one thing you could always say about Chelsea was that they were built on a solid defensive base. All that seems to have gone straight out of the window because right now, they look a complete mess. In Jose Mourinho's first year in charge, they conceded a miserly 15 Premier League goals all season. They've conceded that many in just 10 games this year. Last week, our learned friends in the football media pointed the collective finger at the erratic David Luiz. This week the Brazilian wasn't in the side which would suggest that there is something wrong with new manager Andre Villas-Boas' tactical approach which, while very exciting going forward, evidently leaves them far too vulnerable at the back. The personnel hasn't changed but it's obvious they are playing a far more open game than they are used to.
If they are to make waves domestically and challenge for the ever-elusive Champions League crown in Europe, something needs to be done to shore things up because the ease at which Arsenal were able to slice them open time and time again, is something that will encourage any half decent side Chelsea will face between now and the end of the season.
All that said, I'm sure I speak for most people when I say that John Terry falling on his face for Arsenal's all important fourth goal filled me with great joy and wonderful, wonderful feelings of schadenfreude. Karma is a bitch, isn't it, John?
Away from West London, it was a pretty unremarkable weekend in the Premier League (I write this before the inevitable 6-6 draw between Stoke and Newcastle on Monday night...). Spurs and Liverpool both won as expected against QPR and West Brom respectively. Gareth Bale appeared to have made Sky's Super Sunday panel simultaneously climax as he scored an impressive brace for the former in comfortable 3-1 win that taught us nothing. Meanwhile, my love-hate relationship with the odious and despicableLuis Suarez continued as he put in another scintillating showing in the Scouse side's 2-0 win at the Hawthorns.
Special shouts to Norwich and Swansea who continue to perform above expectations. Blackburn's draw at Carrow Road was the only point picked up by either them, Bolton or Wigan in the bottom three. Things could and should have been better for Rovers who were cruising at 3-1 and were very unfortunate to have a last minute penalty awarded against them as the match ended 3-3. It almost makes you feel sorry for Steve Kean... almost!
People looking for a 'reaction' from Manchester United after their pummelling last weekend may well have been left disappointed after the reds laboured to a Javier Hernandez inspired 1-0 win over Everton. People spoke before the game as though Sir Fergie's team would show up at Goodison Park and tear the Toffees to shreds. Or more fittingly, chew them up and spit them. That was never going to realistically happen but more important than achieving a 'big' win was just getting any sort of win at all. As an added bonus, United kept a clean sheet a huge and significant achievement given the many question marks over their defence.
Keeping pace at the top of the table, City beat Wolvesfairly comfortably for the second time in a week without really breaking a sweat and despite being reduced to ten men. If you're wondering whether that is down to how good City are or how much Wolves are struggling at present, I can confidently and lazily state that it's both.
Results
Saturday Chelsea 3-5 Arsenal Everton 0-1 Manchester United Manchester City 3-1 Wolves Norwich 3-3 Blackburn Sunderland 2-2 Aston Villa Swansea 3-1 Bolton Wigan 0-2 Fulham West Brom 0-2 Liverpool
Far be it from me to make almost ludicrous and churlish comparisons between football and genuinely serious world events but isn't it peculiar that for the second time in less than a week a long standing dominant, repressive regime has been toppled and a perceived benevolent dictator toppled and humiliated in his own back yard as a new ruling force comes into power? For Libya, see Manchester. For Colonel Muammar Gaddafi, see Sir Alex Ferguson. For the NTC, see Manchester City. As Libyan rebels took control of pro-Gaddafi stronghold Sirte this past Thursday, the Blues similarly marched into the impregnable fortress that is Old Trafford, where the home side had won 24 of their previous 25 matches, and came away with an emphatic 6-1 victory over the champions that probably had Fergie wishing he was hiding in a drainage pipe on the outskirts of Salford.
The United manager proclaimed afterward that it had been his worst day in football and you would be hard pressed to argue. The result was the reds' biggest defeat on home soil since 1955 and the first time United had conceded six goals at home since before the second world war (1930). More stats you ask? City's biggest away derby win in 85 years, first time City have scored 6 in a derby since 1926 and the scoreline also equals the biggest margin in Manchester derby win. When I was younger I saw a rampant Man Utd side destroy City 5-0 at Old Trafford. Never in a million years did I ever think I would see that reversed.
The massacre began with a goal from headline magnet Super Mario Balotelli who was in the news less than 24 hours earlier thanks to his premature Guy Fawkes celebrations going somewhat awry. After opening the score with a deft finish following great work by James Milner, mad Mario nonchalantly lifted his top to reveal a t-shirt emblazoned with the now famous question “WHY ALWAYS ME?”. Whether there is an answer that doesn't require the services of an entire team of mental health professionals, I cannot say for sure but I think I speak for most people when I say, I hope it continues to be 'always you', Mario.
The Italian grabbed a second after the break before Sergio Aguero, David Silva and two from substitute Edin Dzeko all made sure that the trip back to Surrey for the Old Trafford faithful would be a long and painful one. Darren Fletcher arguably scored the goal of the game by way of a response but it proved to be totally inconsequential.
The blues looked magical at times with the unplayable David Silva pulling the kind of tricks that would make Derren Brown look like Tommy Cooper. The little Spaniard put in one of the all time great Premier League performances and for my money, was the indisputable man of the match in team that had so many others playing so fantastically well. Micah Richards played like a man possessed both defending against Ashley Young and getting forward to contribute in attacks. James Milner was dominant in the midfield while Vincent Kompany put in a typically assured performance at the back. Even Joleyon Lescott looked like a competent defender for the most part.
It was always inevitable given their resources, that when this team got it together they would prove the toughest of nuts to crack but few envisioned that they could pull out a performance as jaw-dropping as this this against their nearest and dearest. The win leaves the expensively assembled cash rich Citizens now five points clear at the top of the table. After a result like this, it is difficult to see how anyone else is going to be able to keep pace with a squad so strong in every department as well as in reserve. Just think, the likes of Nigel de Jong and Samir Nasri weren't even needed at Old Trafford. That said, we all know that trophies aren't handed out in October so it would be tantamount to stupidity to declare them as champions elect at this stage.
Similarly, you'd be a fool of gargantuan proportions to write off their vanquished opponents. Anyone with even a passing interest in football knows that you dismiss United at your peril. As supporters of other teams, it is our right, nay, our DUTY to enjoy their humiliation, rub it in their faces as much as is humanly possible, and ridicule them until our throats are hoarse because deep down, we all know that we don't get the opportunity all that often. Let us not forget that off the back of previous thumpings, Sir Alex's teams have rallied and come back strong. 5-0 defeats in 1996 and 1999 by Newcastle and Chelsea respectively were followed by title wins in the same season as was the 4-1 setback against Liverpool in 2009. The Red Devils' powers of recovery would put Wolverine to shame.
However, it is all too simplistic to use these previous examples to suggest that things will be the same this time around. Firstly, as stated, the strength of City team is like no other and would require a Lindsey Lohan style self-destruction to balls things up this season. Secondly, and most importantly, you have to seriously question how good this United side actually is. In the end, six was actually generous on a United defence that continues to look about as secure as James Cordon's belt buckle. The reds have conceded an average of 20 shots to the opposition per game at home in just five outings this season. To put that into perspective, the bottom three Blackburn (15), Wigan (16) and Bolton (17) have all allowed visiting teams less shots per game on average (Stats courtesy of www.whoscored.com). The fact that City enjoyed so much freedom in the attacking third will be no surprise to anyone who saw United get away with it against Cheslea and Norwich where the profligacy of the opposition did as much to contribute to victories as anything the home side did.
Constant changes in personal at the back haven't helped one bit but the questionable form of the players that have been called upon is a massive worry. The less said about Rio Ferdinand's current state, the better. Against City, one could argue that the scoreline may not have been so bad had Johnny Evans not been dismissed at 1-0 but let's be honest, Evans only has himself and his glaring limitations as a defender to blame for his red card.
Evan at that stage, you would expect a team of United's stature to show something in the way of caution and damage limitation against such a potent attack. Mind you, without any protection from an increasingly powerpuff midfield, the defence is always going to be in trouble. The likes of Fletcher, Carrick, Anderson, Gibson etc are simply not up to the standard of a top class club. Looking at the midfield's of Barca, Madrid, Chelsea and of course City, United falls well, well short and must improve drastically in this area if they want to continue to consider themselves in this upper echelon of football teams.
With great reluctance, I've long since extolled the virtues of Manchester United and unashamedly reeled off clichés about their ability to 'dig deep', having a will to win, not knowing when they are beat and possessing a winning mentality that all of Sheik Mansour's billions wouldn't be able to buy. However, none of this was evident against City as they imploded in such a horrific fashion it could have reduced small children to tears. In a local derby too, that is just not acceptable.
We all expect United to 'bounce back' but let's not take it as given this time around.
Also on Sunday, another derby took place down in my working locale of West London as Chelsea went to QPR for the first time in the Premier League in some 15 years. To the surprise of pretty much everybody, the Superhoops won 1-0 but the scoreline failed to tell the story of another eventful, if poor, match. The only goal was scored when the increasingly erratic David Luiz inexplicably fouled Heidar Helguson in the box before the Icelandic dusted himself down to convert the resulting penalty. The end of the scoring, but far from the end of the incident as Chelsea had Jose Bosingwa and Didier Drogba sent off before half time and had to play the entire second 45 with just nine men. I can't be sure of another occasion when a result has ever reflected so badly on the winning team. QPR, despite a two man advantage were abject and created very little. Neil Warnock's team seemed to want to play on the counter attack but a general lack of quality throughout the team meant every attack broke down. To their credit, Chelsea were by far the better side for the remainder of the match. They dominated possession, carved out a number of chances and most certainly deserved something for their troubles including a nailed on penalty that ought to have been awarded when Frank Lampard was fouled by Fitz Hall.
After the game, Andres Villas-Boas had a massive whinge about the referee Chris Foy who for once, actually had a decent game bar the Lampard penalty appeal. There can be no complaints about either dismissal. Bosingwa prevented a clear goal scoring opportunity and Drogba's tackle was two-footed and dangerous. End of. However, it does say a great deal about the standard of Foy's usual refereeing that only getting ONE decision wrong is reason for praise. Ultimately, the result is a huge upset but one that almost goes under the radar thanks to the events in Manchester.
Another talking point from the match was England Captain John Terry apparently being caught on camera racially abusing Anton Ferdinand. The England Captain supposedly shouted that Ferdinand is a “fucking black cunt”. If the England Captain did say this, then I'm sure I'm not the wouldn't be surprised. We all know exactly what kind of person the England Captain is. Some typically blinkered Chelsea fans who fail to realise they worship a complete scumbag, have tried to suggest the England Captain was in fact 'only' calling the referee a “fucking BLIND cunt” as if that is acceptable. Even if this was the case, it's good to see the Captain of England in full support of the FA's RESPECT campaign.
However, having seen the video myself, I have to say that nothing is conclusive although my actual first thought was that he was in fact saying “fucking PIKEY cunt” to Paddy Kenny after a clash between the two. Still pretty offensive.
Terry himself has said it was a misunderstanding but he's hardly likely to say anything else, is he?
I would provide a link to draw your own conclusions but it of course the damning evidence can no longer be found. Presumably after the Premier League Stasi had it removed.
Elsewhere in London, Arsenal started to look something like their old selves beating Stoke3-1 and playing with a kind of swagger that hasn't been seen at the Emirates for quite some time. That said, it was against a team that seems allergic to keeping possession. The frightfully prolific Robin van Persie, who was rested from the starting line up, came off the bench and scored the two decisive goals. Gervinho, who had his best game since signing in the summer, set up both the Dutchman's strikes after himself scoring the first. Peter Crouch had scrambled in an equaliser but it proved irrelevant. Whether the gunners are 'back' remains to be seen but they seem to be turning something of a corner following an absolutely wretched start to the campaign. The big test comes next weekend at Stamford Bridge but 5 wins in their last 6 should put them in good stead going into that encounter.
North London rivals Tottenham predictably beatBlackburn at Ewood Park (amid more protests against the hapless Steve Kean) with their own Dutch hero Rafael van Der Vaart grabbing a brace and keeping Spurs well on course to grab that much sought after last Champions League place. That said, it would be thoroughly disrespectful to a still-unbeaten Newcastle who beat Wigan to consolidate fourth spot on Saturday.
Other fourth place hopefuls Liverpool huffed and puffed but could not get the better of the Canaries of Norwich in Saturday evening's 1-1 draw at Anfield. Having dominated the game pretty much from start to finish, the final result was a travesty but quite simply, if you don't put away presentable chances then you don't win football matches. Grant Holt's equaliser in front of the Kop may not have been deserved but it was suitable punishment for the home side's comical wastefulness. I'm sure I'm not the only person in the country who laughed heartily as £35m uber-donkey Andy Carroll sent his stoppage time header to win the game wide of the target. Luis Suarez, for all his quality, must be disappointed with his conversion rate as he certainly doesn't score as many goals as his ability deserves. 'King' Kenny, without irony it would seem, made a point of discussing the need for protection for his diving cheat of a striker but would be better served getting the Uruguayan to spend a few more hours at Melwood practising his finishing.
Merseyside rivals Everton finally had something to smile about after beating Fulham3-1 in a match that will be remembered a great Fulham goal and a great Fulham miss. Bryan Ruiz opened his his account for the Whites with a delicious chip that will go some way to be bettered this season and left the home fans in raptures. Their joy sadly turned to despair as Bobby Zamora missed a last minute chance to win the game by smashing the ball into the Thames when it would have been easier to score. Everton immediately went up the other end to score not one, but two goals to rub salt into the Fulham wounds. The worst thing about this is the fact that people STILL believe that Zamora should play for England.
Finally, the furious West Midlands derby between Aston Villa and West Brom was not going to pass without incident. For the record, Chris Herd's sending off was a joke. The fact that Chris Brunt took one of the worst penalties ever seen was a measure of justice. That said, Alan Hutton should have walked for a scandalous tackle on Shane Long that could have easily crippled the Albion man. It baffles me how stupid football people are when they think they can justify dangerous play by saying things like 'he played the ball'. Hutton's disgusting tackle is proof as if any is needed that winning the ball does not mean that a tackle isn't reckless. A foul isn't negated by winning the ball and I wish people like Alex McLiseh among others, could actually understand that.
Results Saturday Aston Villa 1-2 West Brom Bolton 0-2 Sunderland Liverpool 1-1 Norwich Newcastle 1-0 Wigan Wolves 2-2 Swansea
Sunday Arsenal 3-1 Stoke Blackburn 1-2 Tottenham Fulham 1-3 Everton Man Utd 1-6 (six) Man City QPR 1-0 Chelsea
The fuse on the powder keg relationship between Manchester City and Carlos Tevez was lit and went up with a furious bang in Munich this week as the cash rich Citizens slumped to a 2-0 defeat against a rampant Bayern side in their Champions League group match. The football itself ended up taking a back seat as a more dramatic story was taking place on the touchline. For those that don't know, in the 55th minute of the match at the Allianz Arena, Roberto Mancini, desperately trying to claw his side back into the game, decided to withdraw the ineffective Edin Dzeko and replace him with one Mr Tevez. Astonishingly, the temperamental Argentinean forward apparently refused to go on and kept his posterior planted on the bench.
Very comfortable seats in that Allianz dugout, I'm told...
You don't need me to tell you that this was one of the most outrageous things a player could do. For all the other many misdemeanors footballers are (rightly) criticised for, refusal to actually play and do the job you are paid to do is up there with the worst. An act of disrespect aimed at the club, the fans, management and without exaggeration, is an affront to the game itself.
It's not unreasonable to suggest that Tevez behaved like a first class, certified Grade-A twat with this act of childishness. Whatever your feelings, you are obliged to be professional – a word seemingly missing from Charlie T's limited vocabulary.
Understandably, a seething Mancini felt that this act of insubordination should not go unpunished and soon declared that Tevez' career at Eastlands was finito with some sort of transfer, almost certainly abroad, expected to take place sooner rather than later....
Tevez’ expected departure from these here shores draws a close to a highly controversial chapter in English Premier League football. His distinctive facial scar from a burn suffered in his childhood could well be symbolic representation for the impact he has left on the game. From the moment he touched down in London back in 2006 to his imminent exit shortly, the tenacious little Argentine has never been far from the headlines, proving to be one of the most curious characters to kick a ball on this wee island of ours.
Tevez was first brought to my attention when I was as a layabout student back in 2004. Rather then taking advantage of my fine academic institution by doing something worthwhile such as joining sports clubs or meeting girls, I wasted many an hour playing Championship Manager 03/04 with my flatmate Matt. Said flatmate had previously done a gap year travelling South America where the only useful thing he came back with was the knowledge that Boca Juniors had a highly rated youngster on their books who was set to become most exciting Argentine striker for many a year.
Matt used this knowledge to sign the ‘hot prospect’ for his Roma side and caused constant frustration for me and my Internazionale team as he and I battled for the Serie A title year after fictional year.
“F****** Carlos Tevez” was a phrase I uttered on almost a daily basis during my first year.
Naturally, like most highly rated players on Champo, I expected never to hear of him again. I like to call it Cherno Samba syndrome. However, Tevez again came into my consciousness a year later when he made his initial move (in real life now obviously) to Corinthians from Boca following an explosive start to a career that included a Copa Libertadores win and two Argentinean Player of the Year awards. The transfer probably wouldn’t have even made a ripple in Europe had it not been for the unique circumstances in which it was concluded.
Fresh off the takeover at Chelsea two years prior, football was entering a new era; that of multi-billionaire ownerships. Of course, rich owners were around before 2003 but the kind of vast sums Abramovich et al have been throwing around in recent years were previously inconceivable. What does this have to do with Tevez? Well, the supposed £13m forked out by Cornithians smashed the record of any transfer fee in South America up until that point. The Brazilians had been recently bought by the highly mysterious Media Sports Investments (MSI) headed by the Iranian born businessman Kia Joorabchian who could easily be a James Bond baddie in the right light. MSI bankrolled the transfer and, as it emerged later, ‘owned the economic rights’ to Tevez as well. This was clearly not a typical player-agent relationship. Basically, despite being under contract to the club, the player was actually the property of a ‘third party’ – a phrase that would be become so prominent and repeated in English football a couple of years later that I was often tempted to drive a rusty screwdriver into my eardrum to avoid having to hear it again.
Now, I am not going to pretend I pay close enough attention to transfer market in South America to have been particularly concerned by the move itself. However, my interest was piqued by the fact that this whole convoluted situation was covered in an article in The Times where the implication was that third party ownership may well be the future of football transfers.
However, this apparent revolutionary idea not so much hit a buffer, but rather slammed head first into a brick wall when it crossed the Atlantic and hit these shores.
As I have suggestedtime and time again, things tend to go a little bit insane on transfer deadline day. Desperate attempts to do business before the window shuts often leads to the most unexpected of deals taking place. In August 2006, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who had the BBC deadline day live updates on my browser while frantically bashing away at the F5 key curious to know who was going where.
Every year, some cad sends in rumour about having spotted some high profile international at some obscure location. When it was suggested that Tevez, along with the equally highly rated Javier Mascherano were seen in London, everybody scoffed. Even if this were true, you would automatically assume they would be at the Kings Road, Finsbury Park or even Tottenham High Road. I doubt there was a single football supporter who would have expected or believed believe that two players that had participated in the World Cup and reached the quarter finals just two months prior would be strutting around the East End about to sign for West Ham United!
But alas, this is exactly what happened. Amidst talk of an MSI takeover of the club, Joorabchian had engineered a move for two world renowned superstars to Upton Park. The world had officially gone mad. We all stood open mouthed as then-manager Alan Pardew – smugness personified – appeared on TV looking very much like the cat that got the cream – if the cream in question was being accompanied by Champagne and lobster and being served by Jessica Alba wearing nothing but a smile.
With two new stars and an impending takeover, what could possibly go wrong? Well, let’s not forget this is West Ham we are talking about. Pardew somehow couldn’t fit the two new acquisitions into his side and the Hammers found themselves, typically, flirting with relegation. The MSI takeover fell through and the club were instead bought by an Icelandic consortium that turned out to be even more of a disaster than the country’s volcanoes and ash clouds of a year or so back. I’m not sure what else they expected from a group apparently run by Humpty Dumpty’s clumsier twin brother.
Tevez and Mascherano struggled to settle with the latter hot-footing it to Anfield within a couple of months. Pardew blamed the team’s poor form on the two suggesting that their initial signing was ‘disruptive’. I’m less inclined to take Pards seriously given that he often reckoned a generally hapless Bobby Zamora, a geriatric Teddy Sheringham and something called Marlon Harewood were all better options up front than the three-time South American player of the year.
Pardew was ultimately shown the door and replaced by Alan Curbishley in a move one can only describe as the equivalent of taking an old Skoda with a blown-out engine and replacing it with an old Skoda with a blown-out engine.
There were just 10 games left of the season when Tottenham travelled to the Boylen in March 2007. A thrilling and dramatic game ended 4-3 to the away side handing West Ham a 5th consecutive league defeat. The result aside, the game however featured a pivotal moment that may well have been the catalyst for the club’s survival. Carlos Tevez opened his West Ham account with a brilliant free kick and celebrated by whipping off his shirt and diving head first into ecstatic Irons fans. There’s nothing new about this sort of celebration but on this particular occasion it sparked what was to be the start of a beautiful, if short lived, relationship. The ecstasy and euphoria in the celebration showed that this was a player that truly gave a shit about the club he was playing for. The many fans that questioned him up until this point had no doubts about his commitment to the cause. The battle was lost on the day but the war was far from over. West Ham won 7 of the remaining 9 games with an instrumental Tevez scoring 6 times including the only goal in a 1-0 win at Old Trafford – interestingly, not to be his last goal on this ground – on the final day that kept his side in the top flight.
The Hammers have always been a club that have prided themselves on their “Englishness”. If you’ve ever met one of their fans you’ll know full well that it was West Ham who actually won the 1966 World Cup. Now, I’m not trying to imply they are all card carrying skinheads in East London but it was quite strange and also warming to see them embrace a foreigner – an Argentinean no less – as one of their own. Such was his impact in those months, Tevez was voted Hammer of the Year and is almost spoken of on equal terms as the club’s other great overseas hero, one Paulo Di Canio.
Unfortunately, this apparent fairytale didn’t result in anyone living happily ever after. While third party ownership is an accepted practice elsewhere, here in good ol’ Blighty we forbid such things. Listening to some people, you would think that illegal immigration is preferable.
After they were found to have hidden the details of Tevez’ (and Mascherano’s) ownership from the authorities, West Ham received a record fine but survived a points deduction and even more significantly, were allowed to keep fielding Tevez for those crucial end of season matches that he had such a major influence on.
Given that Tevez was technically ‘illegible’ you can imagine the team(s) that went down might feel somewhat aggrieved. Cue threats of legal action and a messy, messy two year legal battle by relegated Sheffield United which finally resulted in an out of court settlement that has been rumoured to have cost The Hammers nearly as much as dropping down a division would have.
Furthermore, Tevez’ rich vein of form during the run-in merely proved what many believed from the moment he arrived in Newham; That he was quite simply far too good for a team at the wrong end of the table. A mooted move to Manchester United encountered all kinds of complications due to the fact he was still ‘owned’ by MSI while West Ham owned his registration. Knowing they essentially wouldn’t receive a transfer fee, it was the East London club’s turn to threaten a trip to court. After much too-ing and fro-ing, an agreement was reached to compensate West Ham and Tevez would be ‘loaned’ to the Reds by Joorabchian for two years with the option of a permanent deal afterwards. After two seasons, 34 goals, two league titles, a Champions League trophy and a winning goal in front of the Kop at Anfield (one way to endear yourself to United fans forever) later, yet more contract controversy was to follow.
United had delayed talks and as the 2008/9 season was drawing to a close, there was still no offer on the table. At the start of May, United took on crosstown rivals City at Old Trafford where Tevez hammered in a fantastic long range strike to give the Reds a 2-0 lead they would hold on to until the final whistle. The fans inside Old Trafford celebrated the goal by demanding the Argentine be offered a new contract. Fully aware of this, Tevez sprinted to the bench with his hands cupping his ears in a gesture that seemed to be instructing Fergie and the United board to “listen to the people!”. Whether the United hierarchy saw this as an act of insolence or not will never be known but as it turned out, they weren’t prepared to listen. SurAlex famously claimed that the striker wasn’t worth the reported £25m transfer fee it would have cost to purchase him for MSI.
Of course, as well know and many of my ex-girlfriends will testify, the natural reaction to rejection is revenge and Tevez got his by joining a side that did think he was worth the money - not even needing to move house to do so. In the summer of 2009, Carlos Tevez did the unthinkable and left Manchester United to become a Manchester City player. More than just talking advantage of the situation, the signing was a chance for City to truly flex their financial muscle in the faces of their rivals in an “anything we want, we can have” move. The infamous ‘Welcome to Manchester’ poster was like a visual metaphor of a burglar shitting on the carpet after robbing a house.
One-upsmanship aside, Tevez’ first two years at Eastlands – on the pitch at least – were a revelation and left football fans up and down the country with very little to debate with regards to not only his ability, but his determination each and every time he stepped out onto the pitch. A stark contrast to his actions this week. One of his finest performances in City colours came at Stamford Bridge in February 2010. Amidst a massive furore about players shagging former teammate’s girlfriends and such, Tevez rose above the nonsense to score twice – continuing to expose the John Terry myth in the process – and inspire his side to an emphatic 4-2 victory.
This wasn’t the first high profile game Tevez took centre stage, just a month earlier in the Carling Cup semi final first leg, the two Manchester clubs were drawn against one another and naturally all eyes were on the former United man. He didn’t disappoint as he bagged a brace in a 2-1 win and repeated his cup-eared celebration in front of Reds fans who had gone from cheering his name just a few months earlier to jeering his every touch. The Argentine claimed afterwards that the celebration was aimed solely at ‘sock-sucker’ Gary Neville who he felt needlessly disrespected him before the match. To be honest, anyone who has beef with Gary Neville gets my approval.
United did go on to win the return leg 3-1 to progress to the final but alas, it was Tevez once more who scored City’s goal on the night. I’m not sure of the stats but I can’t imagine there are many other players who have scored at Old Trafford for 3 different teams. An incredible achievement however you look at it.
And it wasn’t all animosity aimed at former clubs, though. When facing West Ham, Tevez has made a very blatant point of saluting their fans as well as refusing to celebrate after scoring for both United and City.
But as we all know, disharmony and Charlie T go hand in hand like the Greek goverment and a gross financial mismanagement. In fairness, the star has had to tend to family issues. In early 2010, he was granted compassionate leave to fly back to Argentina following the premature birth of his second daughter, later that year, it was rumoured that he and his partner had split and she had taken the children back to South America permanently. City allegedly agreed to allow him to fly back to see his family but reneged on this deal causing Carlitos to start talking about leaving City and retiring from football altogether.
Now, I don't have children (thankfully!) and won't try to claim to understand parenthood but for me, if a father or mother is forcibly denied from seeing their child, particularly ones so young, then you can totally understand why they would be unhappy. How many parents would be pleased to accept any amount of money if it meant they had to live on the other side of the world from their children? Not many I imagine.
It was obvious that Tevez' wasn't right in the head and there was even a public spat with manager Roberto Mancini after his substitution against Bolton last December. But despite all the constant whining and complaining, he never shirked his responsibilities. On the pitch he remained as committed as ever. Ending the season on 23 goals and finishing joint Premier League top scorer, Tevez captained City to their most successful season in recent memory as they qualified for the Champions League and won the FA Cup.
Yet glory and money didn’t seem to satisfy him. Tevez criticised Manchester on Argentinean TV, claiming he would never return before releasing a statement declaring once more that he wanted to leave. Despite his influence, City were prepared to show him that, like any footballer, he was replaceable. Before a protracted summer move back to Corinthians collapsed, Tevez' fellow countryman Sergio Aguero was brought in as a potential replacement. The new signing's brilliant form had many of the City faithful asking 'Carlos who?' with very few prepared to shed a tear if their top scorer of recent years was to depart. After the his shameful behaviour in Munich, these same fans have actively started calling for his departure.
Mancini has drawn the battle lines by declaring Tevez persona non grata at Eastlands. The Argentine has half-heartedly tried to defend himself citing a 'misunderstanding' to very little sympathy and many praising Mancini for his hardline approach with an apparent troublemaker. The incumbent City manager has often had it hard since he arrived on these shores. Often undermined by all and sundry for for tactics last season, as well as having to deal with constant speculation about his job, the Italian was effectively swimming against the tide by still managed to come up smelling of roses. However, it would be remiss not to ask the question of the manager given his relationships with other players in the City squad.
Lost in the Tevez kerfuffle was the fact that the substituted player Dzeko also had some public angry words with his manager. This comes off the back of Super Mario Balotelli doing the same in a pre-season friendlyover the summer.
Does Mancini have a problem wish discipline? Much of the evidence would suggest so. The argument that he has to contend with big egos is a valid one but he must stamp his authority or risk more confrontations. Critics and naysayers of City's big spending have been waiting for this moment just so they could say 'I told you so' and it is up to a forceful manager to prevent situations like this from happening - especially in public. With Manicini finally taking some strong action, some say the this latest Tevez scandal is the straw to break the camel's back but if we are to use any animal based idiom, the 'punishment' probably more a case of closing the stable door after the horse has bolted.
So what do we make of Tevez? Mercenary, mug or misunderstood? In five short years, for better or for worse, he has made more headlines than most players in the league. Although at times he seems to be no more than a puppet, Carlitos’ continued association with Kia Joorabchian and the acrimony that has followed whenever he has left a club will always have people view him as a disloyal money grabber. His off-field attitude is hardly endearing either. Given the fact he is on fantastic money, earning success and playing for a team undoubtedly on the up, people are entitled to ask why he continues to complain about everything under the sun. He is in a highly privileged position – something he ought to appreciate given the plight of many in his homeland.
But then, even if you don’t sympathise, you must surely understand that his complicated family situation will have an impact on his psyche and general hapiness. Unfortunately for City this has manifested itself in the worst way. His undoubted talismanic quality makes you sit up and take notice no matter who you support and he is in a distinct minority of current players that most teams in Europe would welcome with open arms. That is, if he didn’t come with more baggage than Stansted airport.
There are very few players one can say they genuinely enjoy watching. Tevez is not only a proven Premier League goalscorer – a feat in itself – but manages to combine his South American flair and style with just the right amount of grit and determination that we love oh so much in this country. When you seeing him charging around the pitch like a rabid pitbull from kick off right to the final whistle, you can't help but be impressed by his work rate, something that previously hadn't dropped even during his periods of melancholy.
With his refusal to come as a sub as requested against Bayern, Tevez lost any sympathy that may have remained both from his own fans and the 'neutrals' who just loved him - football wise - for the sheer hell of it. If and when he does leave, City, English football, and fans will be losing a great player but a very unlikable man. Sadly, this outcome will probably be the best for all concerned. Follow me on Twitter
