La Decima

Scott's favorite team may have slipped up in their quest for the Premier League title, but his second favorite team secured a famous late victory in Portugal to secure their tenth European crown:

Over a decade after their last European Championship, Real Madrid finally have their Decima. The final score of 4-1 doesn't even come close to representing the game itself which made fans everywhere swivel from hope to frustration to begrudged admiration to near hopelessness to renewed hope to determination to elation to celebration. Of course, whether your Madrid is Real or Atletico, the order of those emotions change in a significant manner. At the end of the day, Atletico's yeoman efforts deserve the respect and admiration of all fans. But the quality and depth of Real outlasted them in the end.

It was clear from the start what Atletico's gameplan was - occasionally possess but more often chip long or go for the through ball, all while making sure that some amount of all-white uniform gets sullied on every tackle and challenge. I'm trying to remember if I've ever seen a team so consistently ticky-tack foul on every coming together. An elbow here, a shove there, a swipe at the ankle or calf and the occasional  hip check for good measure. All so consistently borderline fouls that, despite what seemed like a light snow of white jerseys draped over the pitch, only a few of these chippy challenges were called, and correctly so. But the impact on Real's game was remarkable and effective - no rhythm to build up to clear chances. Combine this aggressive play with an Iker Casillas error (despite Brad Friedel's attempt to defend him) and an overwhelming imbalance of "wanting it more" for the first 60 minutes, and Atletico were deservedly ahead.

Ricky Van Wolfswinkel and the Champions League Semis

Ed finds that honky-tonk piano music inspires his creativity
photo by Epiclectic	via PhotoRee

 

Ed dishes on Pep, Bayern Chelsea, Atletico, and even Ricky:

 

Pep Guardiola may not have won the Champions League this year, but I think the hysteria regarding his possession based system and his being "outcoached" is comical.  Bayern won the Bundesliga in record time.  They've also made it to the final of the German Cup.  And to top it off, Bayern made the final four in the Champions League.  Pep is not exactly a Spanish David Moyes.

 

I did find something interesting -- the possession style was undone first by Atletico Madrid against Barcelona and then later by Carlo Ancelotti and his suspended left eybrow playing the part of the copycat.  Both teams used the 4-4-2, and both teams countered with aggression and purpose.

 

In the case of Madrid, Bale and Ronaldo did the damage.  And let's not kid ourselves -- these are the best left/right combination in modern football, and arguably ever.  Bale is simply built for the counter, leaving defenses with pressing outside backs extremely vulnerable on both sides of the pitch.  You simply cannot double or triple both of them, and to take your defenders out of the attack makes it difficult to have any width going forward.  I wonder where Real came up with this idea?  Oh, that's right, it was from Bayern Munich!   Playing the role of Ribery on the left is Ronaldo, and playing the role of Robben on the right is Bale.

 

So what did happen to Bayern?  I think the answer is simple -- Ribery hurt his buttocks and didn't return to form on time.  This allowed Real to triple cover Robben and to worry little about the Frenchman.  I think the American commentators to the game got it all wrong when they said Robben was the guy that really carried the team.  Robben was forced in this case to carry the team -- which he couldn't do -- because the guy that used to carry the team wasn't ready to go at all in the first game and was merely an echo of himself in the second.

 

Regardless, I don't shed any tears for Bayern.  While I like former Spurs' Modric and Bale (how about that, two guys on Real going for it all!), I have no patience for Pepe and his painful brand of petulance, flopping, and feigning injury to delay games.  I also never like the trophy squasher Ramos and his enormous ego.  But hey, Real is looking, well, real.

La Liga's Embarrassment of Riches

These Boots Will Soon Be Mandatory in Spanish Football
photo by Mzelle Biscotte	via PhotoRee

We don't know if you had the opportunity to watch yesterday's King's Cup Final, but we did.  And after witnessing that "spectacle," we have two thoughts: 1) it's fitting that the final was moved to Friday night due to a conflict with tonight's Eurovision Final: last night was a great warmup for anyone who enjoys seeing lots of gel, makeup and handbags on display; and 2) what a complete embarrassment that game was for Spanish football.

In some ways, the whole fiasco was a fitting farewell to Jose Mourinho's time at Real Madrid.  While holding seemingly endless promise at times, the end to Jose's reign was predictably chaotic -- fist fights, red cards, fake injuries and more.  The chickens are coming home to roost, and Jose is leaving Stage Left.  You reap what you sow, some might say.

But the game was also a stinging indictment of the modern Spanish game.  Full of artistry and world class players, Spanish football is slowly being killed by drama queens and sheer fakery.  The amount of facial "injuries" sustained by players who were not touched is at an all-time high.  The amount of rolls an "injured" player attempts to complete on the ground after being fouled -- all in an effort to con the referee -- is at its peak.   And the amount of time wasting -- stretchers being brought on to the pitch, only to see an "injured" player experience the type of miracle usually reserved for those at Lourdes -- is greater than in any other league in the world.  In short, modern Spanish football is an embarassment, and is now at the risk of turning itself into a parody of the true sport, a la the World Wresting Federation.

But farlieonfootie, you say: Spanish football is the best in the world: home of Xavi, Iniesta, Ronaldo, Falcao and more.  It contains Barcelona, until this year the paragon of the modern game.  It includes Real Madrid, Europe's most decorated team.  And its national team has won both the last World Cup and the most recent European Championship.  Yeah, we know all that.

Champions of Europe?

photo by rockcohen	via PhotoRee

Long time readers of this space will know of our deep admiration for Los Colchoneros, which may offer up some considerable insight into which side we were rooting for in last night's UEFA Super Cup. For those of you who don't know, that means Atletico Madrid, the La Liga side which faced off against Chelsea in Monaco in a fairly artificial "title fight" to determine European bragging rights.

If you've been hiding under a rock, or if you somehow managed to miss the fine print in the UEFA bylaws, the European "Super Cup" pits the winner of the past season's Champions League against the victor of last season's Europa League. As winners of the "bigger" contest, and fresh off their free-scoring start to the season, it's fair to say that Chelsea entered the contest as prohibitive favorites. After witnessing the carnage, though, perhaps the most appropriate thing one can say about the match is "That's why they play the game."

Chelsea fielded what is debatably their strongest eleven for the contest, with the lone exception of the suspended John Terry (who you might remember also failed to make a certain game in Munich last season). But at the risk of mixing a metaphor, Athleti made mincemeat out of Chelsea's Swiss Cheese defense, as their Colombian superstar Falcao tore the Blues a new one with a first half hat trick that led to an easy 4-1 victory.

Surprising?  A bit. But the game also confirms our suspicion that although they may lead the League at the current moment, this Chelsea club is way too leaky at the back to seriously challenge for the title. Time and again the centre back combination of Gary Cahill and David Luiz were made to look pedestrian -- in plain Englush they were clueless, and repeatedly caught out.   At one point things got so bad that even when the Chelsea back line were able to keep the ball in front of them, they made another cardinal mistake: ball watching.

Heads Up

photo by storem	via PhotoRee

I watched Atleti take on Malaga in the absence of EPL action Sunday. While it wasn't the match I hoped to be witnessing -- that one would have pitted a certain team from Manchester against a fourth place side from London -- it served as an interesting diversion from the snowed-out schedule (or lack of) that the EPL served up this weekend.



Actually the match also served as a respite from the horrid football -- NFL style -- that I unfortunately saw first hand earlier in the day, while watching the Miami Dolphins host the Buffalo Bills. The Fins managed to run their standard offense fairly consistently today -- 3 runs and a punt -- on their way to another home loss in a season that is ending yet again in bitter disappointment and finger-pointing.



Atleti served up a better game, though, with a 3-1 victory that may take some of the pressure off embattled coach Quique Sanchez Flores. Diego Forlan was dropped from the Atleti starting lineup, and Reyes was a welcome return with the warm weather being judged to suit his style better than the last time we saw Atleti -- in their disappointing and snowy mid-week exit from the Europa League.



The sight of the lush green pitch at Malaga's Rose Garden -- located in the heart of Spain's Costa del Sol mediterranean vacation land -- was a stark contrast to the muted brownish-green grass of the English winter. The game's style also served a harsh contrast to that of its English relative, and seemingly matched its location, played at the leisurely mañana pace of a land accustomed to vacationers. Both sides were content in the first half to play languid, ticky-tack football, with long arcing crosses interrupting the tight, controlled passes from time to time; beautiful to watch, but a very different sort of game than that featuring the more direct style preferred in the EPL (often referred to derisively as "over the top" football).



Bits and Pieces from Here and There

Some bits and pieces from here and there:

• I Watched David De Gea Play for Atletico Madrid this weekend. Unfortunately. My handpicked successor to Edwin Van der Sar inspired about as much confidence as a bumbling Detective Barney Fife against Levante on Saturday, conceding a rather soft goal to open the scoring in yet another shock Atleti loss. I wonder what's going on with the young Spaniard. He's had a tough few games lately -- appearing both indecisive and inexperienced against both Espanol and Aris Thessaloniki, in addition to his performance against Levante -- and looks to have lost his preternatural swagger. I wonder if all the rumors about United and other teams vying for the young 'keeper have finally proved unsettling.

• A Leaked Cable from Wikileaks has revealed that the illegitimate thug who leads Burma, Than Shwe, considered making a $1 Billion controlling bid for Manchester United in mid 2009. Thankfully for United fans, Shwe changed his mind at the last minute because he thought it might "look bad" coming directly on the heels of a hurricane which killed 140,000 of his subjects (and not only because the $1 Billion price tag for United almost exactly mirrored the amount required to rebuild Burma after the extensive damage caused by the storm). Umm... Yeah. It would have definitely looked bad. And you thought the Glazers weren't good stewards of our club.

Bloodied but Unbowed

photo by ajensen05	via PhotoRee

November 7 / Santiago Bernabeu, Madrid, Spain


They eyes of the soccer world turn to central Spain today for what should be an especially lively Madrid derby. Although it's been a one-sided affair lately -- Atletico have not beaten Real since 1999 -- Coach Quique Sanchez Flores is convinced he finally has the squad this year to make a difference.  

Atleti opt for Diego Forlan and Kun Aguero on the attack today, and Los Rojiblanco's fans can only hope this is the day when the vaunted offense finally clicks in a way it has yet to so far this season. Real counter with a heavyweight lineup that includes Higuain, Ronaldo, Di Maria and Ozil, among others, a lineup that has scored 16 goals at home this season while conceding only two.

Baby, it's Cold Outside, and Potentially Suspect Crocked Ankles, The Sequel

photo by woodleywonderworks	via PhotoRee

Before we turn our (fleeting) attention toward a feast of Spanish football, let's at least touch on the latest Wayne Rooney conspiracy theory:  anyone else thinking it's slightly strange that Manchester United have chosen to send our formerly beloved striker all the way to Beaverton, Oregon to undergo physical therapy on his damaged ankle?  First, Rooney's rehab included a week of poolside cocktailing in Dubai.  Next, his suggested routine includes flying 10 hours to the west coast of America, and spending Saturday to Saturday (missing two more game days) in splendid isolation.  Does this remind anyone of trying to keep the crazy uncle locked in the closet upstairs when entertaining guests?  Okay, maybe that's just my family, but I think you get my point....  Can it be that Roo is on his way out, and that they are trying to keep him out of sight until the deed is done?  Who knows, but it's an awfully suspicious therapy routine he's undergoing at present -- just sayin'.


Let's move onto bigger and better things, as La Liga giants (okay, that may be a slight exaggeration)  and farlieonfootie favorites Atletico Madrid take on Norwegian worldbeaters (okay, that's a definite exaggeration) Rosenborg in Europa League action.   Welcome to autumn football in Norway, where even the hardy Norwegian fans are bundled up and shivering in pre-game crowd shots. I did take particular pleasure in seeing one fan attempting to keep warm by wearing a NY Mets ski cap -- that would be a collector's item even in Queens these days, but due to it's one-of-a-kind status here in Norway, would fetch a eye-popping value estimate on Trondheim's version of Antiques Road Show.

Atleti in their blue and red outfits look slightly Superman-ish tonight, which may or may not be a fitting description depending on which version of the Madrilleños decide to turn up. 

Groundhog Day

All Eyes on the Merseyside Derby Today, which finds itself in the unusual position of being a relegation "six pointer." Even more amazing, we're only in the season's 8th week, which truly says something about both Everton and Liverpool's performance to date. Check back on this space shortly for a more in-depth look at the game.....

photo by Aaron E. Silvers	via PhotoRee

In the Meantime you'll have to settle for some more thoughts on yesterday's uncomfortable tie with West Brom. I'm still utterly disappointed to find the boys splitting points after leading comfortably by two goals, and surrendering the lead yet again. It's like the movie Groundhog Day:  I keep expecting this nightmare to end, but feel endlessly damned  to repeat it time and again.

The problem, in my humble estimation, lies in both the middle and back of the pitch. It's certainly not on the wings or up front, as United is putting the ball in the back of the net regularly, albeit possibly not as much as we should be. In any event, I don't think it's a problem of offensive output, with Nani, Chicharito and Berba (despite missing a sitter) all showing a good understanding of each other yesterday. Wazza was missed, but not much.

I'll lay the problem straight at the doorstep of the central midfield. With Scholesy unable to play every day (even the amount he is currently playing seems to be weighing on his performance, as his sharp early season form has dipped a bit recently), and Fletch rested for a likely mid-week appearance against Bursapor in the Champions League, SAF left the engine room yesterday under the control of Anderson and Michael Carrick. I'll shade the gameday performance between the two to Ando just slightly, on account of one or two nice tackles, but overall the performance of both players left much to be desired.

There's no denying it anymore: the midfield, barren of Scholes and Fletch, is just not cutting it at this level. If recent reports about Anderson are to be believed, he wants out of United and back to Portugal. Let him go, I say, and bring back Tom Cleverly post-New Year. Gibbo was also irrelevant yesterday after replacing Giggs, and the United midfield never grabbed the game by the scruff of the neck and took control of the ball. There was hell to pay for it.

The problems in central midfield are compounded by separate problems in defense. Although I was hopeful that Rio's return would see our defensive form revert to the miserly days of the 2008/2009 season (the last time Rio and Vida played together regularly), I think I was mistaken, and probably misled by the last two shutouts. A few less goalposts, and few more accurate finishes from both Valencia and Sunderland, and we would have seen different scorelines. Both teams certainly had their opportunities and missed them.

Inexplicably, and in a very un-United like way, the Red Devil's defense looks panicky as soon as it concedes, as if a second opposition goal must inevitably follow the first. I'm taking a total SWAG here, but I'm estimating the average time between the first goal conceded and the inevitable second in the last few games must be less than 5 minutes. The personnel seem to matter less than the result: gone today were O'Shea and Evans, and in their places were Ferdinand and Rafael. No matter; the deer in the headlights look is still there.

Yesterday it was a sloppy drop for VDS (I'll forgive him; he's stopped a lot more of those than he's dropped over the past several years) that led directly to the second Baggie goal, but the defense immediately prior to that looked static and overrun. I still don't think Evra's head is quite right, and Rafael alternates between good games and less good ones, to be kind.  Centrally we look okay, not great, but perhaps with the midfield performing at a subpar level it's putting more pressure on Vidic and Ferdinand than they can handle at the moment.

In any event, I hope SAF figures out something, and soon: the ship has got to be righted if this team is to stay in title contention. Although yesterday's frustration was slightly mollified by Chelsea's draw against Villa, a day later I'm still stuck in a funk. There is this bit of silver lining to be found, though, if you look REALLY hard: we're the only undefeated team in the League (tongue pressed firmly in cheek), only five points back, and that's not a lot to overcome in 29 games. God, am I the eternal optimist, or what...?!

Props to the New Boys. Did anyone else looking at the standings yesterday find it hard to believe the bottom seven slots were populated entirely by "established" sides such as Liverpool, Everton, West Ham, Blackburn, Birmingham and Sunderland? I realize Blackburn and Sunderland haven't played yet this weekend, but cheers to the new boys, especially Blackpool and WBA, for more than holding their own. I don't know where these teams will finish the season, but it's nice to see some of the newcomers making their mark at this early stage. After an appalling thrashing at the hands of an in-form Chelsea side had many predicting their immediate relegation, Roberto DiMatteo's boys now sit in 6th place. No wonder he was named Manager of the Month for September.....

Chelsea and Villa Produced an Entertaining Draw, in which either side could have credibly claimed the three points on more than one occasion.  My friend John observed that Anelka is a "donkey," and based on yesterday's performance I'd have to agree. I'm certain Chelsea fans can't wait to get Drogba and Lampard back on this side of the doctor's office waiting room.....

And despite early reports to the contrary, John also confirmed that it wasn't Harry Potter waving his wand in midfield for the Blues, it was Josh McEachran making his second league appearance for a weakened Chelsea side. In my estimation, a point was probably not a bad result for the League leaders given their sickly state, and Carlo Ancelloti likely left the Midlands satisified with the result. It could have been worse if Nigel Reo-Coker, playing Lord Voldemort to young McEachran's Harry, hadn't pushed his chip shot wide after stealing the ball from the Chelsea midfielder in stoppage time and almost sealing a Villa victory.

¡Viva Los Colchoneros!  In other news from around the footie world, Atletico met Getafe in the mini-Madrid derby. The mattress makers made easy work of the Burger Kings despite the absence of Kun Aguero for the full game, and Diego Forlan for half of it. Simao Sabrosa supplied the lead with a gorgeous free kick, and Diego Costa capped off a beautiful free flowing move to nail down a 2-nil victory at home.  Well done, boys.



I'm outta here; that's all for farlieonfootie for October 17.

Column Four: La Liga, The Temptress

photo by http://www.flickr.com/photos/37873897@N06/4750531339/	via PhotoRee

So there I was minding my own business, happy in my little footie life following Manchester United and the English Premier League, and having a grand old time getting to know the game.  For the most part, I remained blissfully unaware of the world's other major leagues except when it was impossible to ignore them, in competitions such as the European Champions League.  Sure I knew that Barcelona and Real Madrid had won a bunch of European trophies, but that had to be in the old days, or due to some fluke factor, right?  I mean, there's no way that the football outside of the EPL could be any good, was there...?

My first brief introduction to La Liga football actually occurred when David Beckham left the Manchester United fold to join Real Madrid in 2003.  The news initially hit me hard. Even though I knew Becks and SAF had a falling out (or maybe a flying shoe), it still hurt me as a United fan to see Beckham leave.  The long searching passes, the bending free kicks and the Spice Girls' WAG show all gone in one fail swoop.   Bummer.  I searched in vain for Real games on US television, but 2003 might as well have been another lifetime ago when it came to watching european soccer here in the States.  Rarely available in the US, and even more seldom seen in my house, Becks disappeared into the netherworld of La Liga, a strange and fantastical place that appeared to exist only in my imagination and in the agate type of the International Herald Tribune Sports page.  My enthusiasm quickly waned, and my loss was softened by the emergence in the next season of a certain Cristiano Ronaldo -- there was a new #7 in town, and I quickly forgot about the old one (sorry, Becks).

Flash forward several years to another morning of major disappointment.  This time, though, it was the news that the one and same Cristiano Ronaldo was leaving Manchester United to play for Real Madrid, and this time the departure was based on choice not necessity.  I felt sucker punched.  Wasn't this the guy who had scored 42 goals for us a season ago?  How would we replace him?  And, as importantly, how would I see the joyful dancing across the field, the sheer speed, loping strides, and swerving free kicks that were Cristiano Ronaldo?  (Somehow i've conveniently forgotten the fanciful dives and artful writhing that were also Cristiano Ronaldo).  My once fervent search for La Liga football seemed destined to come back to the fore.  After all, if Beckham and now Ronaldo had been seduced by the dream of playing for Real Madrid, what was I missing?  And could I hold out?

I tried to watch Real, and did so on several occasions.   This time, too, it was much easier to find them on the tube,  thanks to GOLTV in particular.  Barca games were also readily available.  I was too angry, though, to care much for Barca due to United's loss to them in the 2009 Champions League final, and despite watching Real on multiple occasions, I was never able to sit still for a whole game.  Something just didn't click.  Real never felt right for me: too much Galacticos, too little chemistry.  Kinda like the Yanks circa 1985.

But then came a fateful family trip.  Inspired by Chef Jose Andres cooking Spanish food on PBS ("Jose Andres' Made In Spain"; http://www.josemadeinspain.com/), and and Gwinny, Bitty, Mario and Claudia roadtripping through the Iberian Peninsula (ironically, also on PBS) in "Spain: On the Road Again" (http://www.spainontheroadagain.com/), I decided to go to Madrid in person with my one of my daughters last February.  (Incidentally, both series make for great television and are highly recommended.  If they don't make you want to jump in the kitchen and start cooking, they will, at the very least, make you want to jump in the kitchen and open up a nice bottle of Rioja to help you kick back and enjoy the spanish countryside flowing by).  Although Real was out of town during our trip, and I had no idea that Getafe  played in Madrid (actually I didn't even know that Getafe existed, to be completely honest), I did some quick searching on the internet and found that Atletico Madrid were in town while we were there (okay, so we actually planned the trip around the soccer game, but let's not be picky).

And thus the opportunity presented itself:  in order to get "smart" on Atleti, and actually know who we were going to see, I decided to watch a game or two (okay, maybe 5 or 10 is more accurate) in advance of the trip.  Sure, it meant having to watch an extra football game each week, but there are some things in life you just have to do if you want to get ahead.

I knew Diego Forlan, of course -- why, he was an ex-Red!  Although his time in Manchester proved largely unfruitful, his name will forever be sung around Old Trafford (United's stadium) due to the 2002 brace he scored against arch-rival Liverpool.  And Kun Aguero, Diego Maradonna's diminutive son-in-law and Forlan's deadly strike partner, quickly grew on me.  The kid had some moves.

But who was this guy Reyes?  He played for Arsenal?  Why'd they let him go?  He's good!  And Simao?  I knew he played on the Portuguese national team, but I had no idea what a player he actually was.  And what about this Ujfalusi character?  Looks like a hippie, but man can he cross the ball.  DeGea?  Isn't he a bit young to be starting between the sticks?  Maybe, but the kid is unreal -- an acrobat in goal.  These guys were capable of some serious football. And fun to watch.

And then it happened.  Atleti polished off Barcelona right in front of my unbelieving eyes during our visit to the Vincente Calderon, as the stadium rocked back and forth underneath the adoring crowd.  I went to Madrid and fell in love.  I couldn't help myself, actually.  Atleti played great football, really artful stuff, and handed Barcelona its only La Liga loss of the season.  And I came back and just had to watch their season continue.  Despite faltering domestically, Atleti played great European football last year and won a major title (more on this in a later column).

And it dawned on me:  I loved La Liga almost as much as the EPL.  It had become my dirty little secret, admitted only to close friends and no one else.  It would never replace the EPL, but I began to think of it more like a mistress.  The football was good, even great at times, and the players were fresh and exciting.  ESPN's Phil Ball got it spot on in his great piece That La Liga Stuff -- this is a league to love.

And watch.  Alot.  And that's farlieonfootie for September 24.