Finally, a Match

photo by notsogoodphotography	via PhotoRee

He's Good, But is He That Good?!  Ryan Giggs came out recently and said that Nani has become the new Cristiano Ronaldo, filling a void that United has felt since CR7's departure two years ago. Based on current playing form, Nani may indeed be able to hit Giggs' formidable target of 20 goals scored and 20 more created, although by my reckoning those two totals combined would still fall short of Ronnie's record 42 goal haul a few years back. I agree with Giggs' overall sentiment, though, and if Nani can become more clinical in the final third of the pitch, there may be no stopping him.

So Charlie Davies May Not Actually Be a Speed Merchant, Just a Liar.  I don't know which makes you want to question this guy's judgment more: that Charlie Davies was caught speeding 125 MPH last week in France a year after almost dying in a car crash that seriously derailed his soccer career, or that Davies now says a teammate was driving the car that got pulled over, and he switched places with him at the last minute so his teammate could avoid the infraction. If this latter story is true, it's even more amazing, as Davies was a passenger in the car that wrecked outside DC last October, so you'd think he'd be even more sensitive to riding shotgun in a car streaking through France at roughly the speed of light. Guess again. If you're the coach (are you reading this Bob Bradley?), one would think you would seriously question this guy's decision making process.

Speaking of Coach Bradley and the US Mens' National Team, they were in action last night in Chicago, playing the Polish National Team (hold your jokes), and drawing 2-2. Although I only managed to eke out second half viewing, several thoughts jumped out at me while watching:

Jermaine Jones Could Be Good.  Very good, in fact. Although he previously played some friendlies for the German National Team, because he was never capped in a true international Jones was allowed to switch his allegiance to his mother country from der faterland and join the Stars and Stripes. Based on his perfomance last night, the move agrees with him. Jones' sharp, incisive, and often long, pinpoint passes, which the US has lacked in recent years (let's be honest: forever), led to several scoring opportunities and at leat one goal. Well done, Jermaine.

Jozy Altidore is Not Sharp Right Now, But it's Not His Fault. Altidore did a nice job holding up the ball and imposing his physical style on the Pole's central defense, but he missed finishing several clear cut chances in front of goal. Unfortunately for the USMNT, Altidore is not appearing regularly (in fact, I think that's stretching the truth: I don't think he's appeared at all in La Liga) for Valencia, so he can't expect to be clinical with his finishing right now.  The chances last night were probably some of the first real "game condition" opportunities he's had since the World Cup. Playing in Europe may be great for Altidore's development IF HE ACTUALLY PLAYED, but if he's not in a regular lineup he should seriously consider coming back to the US and playing over here. At least he'd know what to do with the ball when he gets it.

Maurice Edu Played Out of Position Last Night, But Still Managed to Look Impressive. His regular football with Rangers in the Scottish Premier League must be helping, as Edu's fine World Cup form seems to have carried over into the Fall. I still look back in disbelief that Bradley started Ricardo Clark (are you kidding me?) over Edu in the fatal game against Ghana last June. For that mistake alone he probably should have lost his job.

Stu Holden Had a Nice Game. In addition to being a regular Tweeter (@stuholden), Stu has developed into a nice taker of US corner kicks. The second goal last night resulted from a dangerous Holden kick into the box, and he almost repeated the feat in the game's dying seconds. With deleiveries like that, did we miss @LandonDonovan last night?  Methinks not too much.

And finally, there's this bit of news:


Wayne Rooney Wants a Mid-Winter Break in the Premier League. And he probably wants it right now, so he can avoid the media spotlight a bit longer.

A glare that I'll gladly take from him. And that's farlieonfootie for October 10.

United Bleeds Red

A Shout Out to My Friend James, who emailed me last night (ok, it was actually a text, but let's not let certain facts distract us from the larger story) about how depressed he was that there was no EPL football this weekend. I hear ya, bruddah. Man, am I getting tired of these news compilations, and dying for some actual footie to watch. I know there were international games available for viewing yesterday (Spain, Italy, Ireland, and Portugal, among others, all in action) but this pesky little thing called work interfered with my ability to sit back and watch them. I hope to see some actual live games this weekend and get back to the usual cutting-edge gameday analysis and insight you've come to expect. Or at the very least, display our shocking naivete and inexplicable fascination with less important parts of the game, mixed with clever bon mots and witty tongue twisters from our interchangeable cast of intrepid analysts here at farlieonfootie.com.

So, without further ado, let's plunge into the stories making news this morning:

Maybe He Forgot to Invite Fergie? Wes Brown's time at United could be coming to an end in January, according to the UK rag The Sun. Apparently, Brown and Fergie had a "blazing row" during the Red's pre-season visit to North America, during which SAF forbid Brown from joining his teammates for a night on the town (maybe that explains their insipid performance the night I saw them in Philadelphia). SAF in particular was described as being "incandescent" during the argument. Regardless, the end result is readily apparent: no league starts for Old Wes, who's had to settle for appearances against Scunthorpe and Rangers to date. The article make sense if you take a look at the United defense this year prior to Rio's return: I couldn't figure out why Evans, O'Shea, Rafael, and Fabio were getting playing time and Wes wasn't despite all the problems we've had in the back. Now I know.....

Some Guys Never Learn. So US Mens' Team forward Charlie Davies was pulled over last week for driving 125 MPH in the Jura region of France.  No big deal that, just another athlete-driving-an-expensive-car-too-fast story, EXCEPT FOR THE FACT that this is the same Charlie Davies who almost died in a car crash just about a year ago, and was just touchingly portrayed in an ESPN the Magazine article that diligently documented his difficult road back to top flight soccer. Hello?  Charlie?  Anyone home inside that head of yours?  If so, please keep the driving a bit more sensible, and try to showcase the speed when you're on the pitch, not behind the wheel of your Audi Q7.

photo by scmikeburton	via PhotoRee

Oh, Yeah; and Then There's This Small Item:  United made an operating profit of £100 million this past fiscal year. Now that's some serious coin...!  Straight from the team's most recent release of financial results, it appears that Manchester United produced record revenue of almost £300 million this past fiscal year, and an operating margin of an envious 30-plus percent.

Pay no attention to the almost £550 million in debt sitting on the club's balance sheet (net of more than £150 million in cash that is "earmarked" for player purchases, LOL), and the related interest on which led to a net loss of £80 million for the team. In the verbage of Drexel Burnham, I'm "highly confident" there's a banker somewhere who can explain away all this debt as being at a "prudent level" for a club the size of Manchester United, and how the loss was brought about by "exchange rate fluctuations and costs associated with the team's bond issuance," so don't give it a second thought. Seriously. I mean it. You remember those bankers, don't you?  They're the same guys who brought us collateralized debt obligations and subprime mortgages......  And those worked out really well, so it should be full steam ahead and clear sailing for the SS Manchester Titanic.

 clear bit of bum smooching, Villa defender Luke Young spoke about how much the Villain lads are enjoying the new regime, and how it's exactly what he would have done if he was the coach. Apparently, under former coach Martin O'Neill, the Villa players rode around on motorized scooters for the second half of matches, while Houllier is trying to get them to actually run around the pitch for the full 90 minutes. As if that's their job, or something....

That's all for now -- and all for farlieonfootie for October 9th.


Villa Boss Introduces Double Training Sessions. In a move that proved highly popular at Eastlands last year, double training sessions have been introduced at Villa Park by new boss Gerard Houllier.  In a

Around The World in 80 Keystrokes

Getting pretty thin here in advance of the coming weekend's internationals.  Saw that Brazil beat Iran 3-nothing earlier today, although I don't believe that actually qualifies as news.

Lost in Translation.  Kiko Macheda was quoted today in famed Italian sports mag Gazzetta dello Sport as calling teammate Wayne Rooney "crass and vulgar."  Elsewhere, Macheda's remark were translated as calling Rooney a "chav."  I'm not sure either of those translations are correct, or furthermore what the latter term even means.  I highly doubt Macheda actually used the term "crass" or "vulgar," as only a true englishman would use such formal language to describe a fun-loving rogue like Rooney, and I refuse to believe that the term "chav" is actually English.  Sounds more like Italian to me.....  I think the actual term that Macheda used was "coatto," but as you'll recall that I am still searching night and day for a suave Italian correspondent who can sit idly by while wearing a sleek black Armani suit, smoke cigarettes in a bored-with-the-world type manner, and sleep with American women while reading Gazzetta dello Sport and translating Italian football interviews for farlieonfootie, I don't have a definitive handle on the story at this juncture.

Great Football Story, Even Better Personal Story.  ESPN the Magazine features a great story this week on the comeback of US Mens' National Team forward Charlie Davies.  Chronicling his remarkable recovery from a life-threatening crash almost a year ago, the story is an uplifting read on the powers of belief and determination.  Nothing funny to add here, but definitely worth your time to read.

photo by mikebrown59	via PhotoRee

The Man United Goal is Becoming a Crowded Place.  Here's another name to add to the list of the many goalkeepers United is supposedly "keeping tabs" on: Gigi Buffon.  Don't know where he's going to fit, as United has already "earmarked" David De Gea of Atletico, Igor Akinfeev of CSKA's Army Men, and Aalesund's Anders Lindegaard among others to replace current starter Edwin Van der Sar, who appears ready to retire at season's end.  Not that any of those rumors will sit well with the present heir apparent, Thomas Kuszczak.

Calling Albert de Salvo to the Witness Stand, Please; We Need a Character Reference on David Berkowitz.  The latest player to stand up in defense of Nigel De Jong is none other than legbreaker Ryan Shawcross of Stoke City, one of the kings of the au courant "stuck in" style of defending.  Aaron Ramsey of Arsenal would have been happy to stand up for De Jong, too, if only Shawcross' shocking tackle that ended his season last year made it hard for Ramsey to stand up for much of anything at all these days.  For good measure, Shawcross also backed  Wolves' Karl Henry in the same interview.  Henry, you'll recall, not only broke Bobby Zamora's leg a few weeks back, he was involved just this past week in this lovely little piece of defending.   Can you imagine the bloodshed that would occur if these three ever played on the same team?

And that's farlieonfootie for October 8.

Woody's Round Up Redux

Hmmm....  You Don't Think He Has Ulterior Motives Here, Do You?  England Goalkeeper Coach Ray Clemence has apparently stated that all three goalies called up for England's games this coming week should become number one in the squad, and all in the same day.  It's a wonder he's intellgible at all speaking out of both sides of his mouth.  Shortly after seeing a comment attributable to Clemence that West Ham 'keeper Robert Green could regain his starting position I was startled to see an article from the same day quoting the same Ray Clemence tipping Birmingham 'keeper Ben Foster to challenge Joe Hart for the starting spot in the England lineup.  I guess I didn't realize that a team could start three goalkeepers, although I'm pretty certain it would affect their offensive output if they chose to do so.

I Don't Think This Gesture Means You're Number One.  Maybe this means he will be moving to Old Trafford after all....  One can only hope that this recent sign of Harry Redknapp's displeasure with Luka Modric may tempt the Croatian to begin to look elsewhere for gainful employment.  Although he once described Modric as "our only world class player," I'm guessing Uncle Harry might put Rafael Van der Vaart in that category for Spurs now, as well.

Welcome News.  Atleti just aren't the same team without El Kun, Sergio Aguero, in the starting eleven, so it's nice to see that Los Colchoneros are trying to re-sign him rather than using him for trade bait.  So much for all the rumors of Aguero being shipped out of Madrid.

photo by dhyasama	via PhotoRee

A Fish Rots at the Head.  Great to see Bolivian President Evo Morales setting an example for the youth of his nation by kneeing an opposing player in the groin during a recent "friendly" match in La Paz.  Just goes to show you that politics truly is a contact sport.

Pay No Attention to That Man Behind the Curtain.  I've had a good chuckle reading all the laudatory articles about what John Henry would do for Liverpool as New England Sports Ventures looks to buy the reds (note the small "r").  Henry may be a good guy (or not), but I'll give him credit for one thing: he knows how to hire.  Although articles such as this one give Henry credit for thinking outside the box while hiring the youngest GM in baseball history and bringing a fan-friendly approach to the fan experience, true insiders know that its NESV President Larry Lucchino who is the brains behind the operation.  Lucchino oversaw the masterful construction of Oriole Park at Camden Yards while President of that team, and was also responsible for finding and hiring young Theo Epstein at the Sox.  Liverpool fans should hope that John Henry sticks to counting his money and leaves the sporting decisions in Lucchino's more-than-capable hands.

And that's farlieonfootie for October 7th.

The Liverpool Red Sox and Other Assorted Strange and Wonderful Stories

Photo by Nigel Wilson via Photoree





 News out of the Liverpool Board Room livened up the end of an otherwise slow day:

The Liverpool Red Sox?!  News emerged today of a major development in the battle for control of Liverpool FC, with one of the two bids received by the Board said to be coming from the owners of Major League Baseball's Boston Red Sox.  Although led by the quant hedge fund manager John Henry, the potential ownership group also includes former Cosby Show Producer Tom Werner, as well as The Gray Lady of American journalism, the New York Times.  I can already see the plot for a new show developing nicely: the Curse of the Bambino strikes on Merseyside.  I for one would be fairly well satisfied with an 86-year drought between Liverpool's last League title and their next one....

This isn't the Pot Calling the Kettle Black, it's the Pot Calling the Kettle White.  Whadda joke: Mark van Bommel defends Nigel de Jong.  One of the world's dirtiest players defends another.  This is like Jack the Ripper calling Ted Bundy as a character witness. I think it could actually be done, but it would require Michael J. Fox to drive the DeLorean through the space-time continuum.

That Wasn't the Sound of the Net Ripping?  No, apparently it was Chelsea defender Alex's thigh that ended up in shreds, with the injury most likely induced by his cannon-like strike against Arsenal on Saturday.  [Ed note: I fid it a bit ironic that the goal reminded me of a cannon strike, and Arsenal's logo on the weekly EPL preview show is an animated cannon blasting away from a fortified rampart.  Maybe Chelsea should assume the logo now?]  The Brazilian defender will now miss a couple of international matches and at least one league match as he recuperates.

Them's Fighting Words.  In an interview that no doubt deserves a locker room post-up, Michael Essien claims that City are now Chelsea's closest title rivals.  My sense is that a certain red team in Manchester may have something to say about this before all is said and done this season.

Loving it.  Speaking of the Citizens, it seems all is not well in the blue half of Manchester, as reports have emerged of a loud halftime bust-up between Roberto Mancini and Carlos Tevez.  Frustrated with Mancini's cantenacio-style of Italian football, the Citizen's captain got physical with the head coach during the interval of the Newcastle - City match on Sunday.  Surprise, surprise -- Tevez is not happy with how his coach would like to play him.  Does this ring a bell for anyone?

Maybe I'm Missing Something, but Didn't This Guy Just Re-up for Four More Years?  Ridiculous Transfer Rumor du jour: Gareth Bale to Manchester United.  Obviously nothing better to print on a slow news day in the UK.

Surely, News of Dennis Bergkamp's Return Can't Be Far Behind.  Apparently Robert Pires is currently working out with Arsenal.  Too early to tell if this will turn into Pires' return to the fold at Arsenal, a la Sol Campbell, or whether he's just trying to create some media attention in order to help his re-entry back into French football after leaving Spanish side Villareal.

As if Uncle Roy's Problems Weren't Large Enough Already, Now This.  Word has emerged that Liverpool striker Fernando Torres has suffered a recurrence of the groin injury that sidelined him for much of last season and the World Cup.  Having to rely on Dirk Kuyt and David N'Gog for offense would not seem to offer the most obvious path back to the top of the League.  I'm thinking Roy's time on Merseyside is about to expire.

And so am I.  That's farlieonfootie for October 6th.

Blackpool Drop the Adam Bomb

Photo by Vietmoment via Photoree


Once again we hear from our fearless correspondent Ed, just back from Fox Soccer Channel's recent delayed showing of Blackpool's shocking victory over Liverpool:

October 3, 2010 / Anfield, Liverpool, England –

The ball exploded off the foot of Charlie Adam and into the side of Martin Skrtel’s head like a bloated round fist, the second pummeling of a Liverpool defender in as many minutes, and one in which you almost couldn't wait to see the slow motion replay of the concussion and hear the extenuated and tortured groan of the recipient.  These blows packed with them a message that Liverpool didn’t seem to understand until it was too late:  the Blackpool Tangerines were here to win, the Blackpool Tangerines were here to stay, and Charlie Adam was here to make sure of it.

Blackpool, if you remember, snuck into the EPL party like Tareq and Michaela Salahi into a White House State Dinner.  A team that not that long ago was in Division Four (no, that’s not a misprint) and has a winning percentage of roughly 37% since 1896 (I looked it up on the internet), the Tangerines played their way in to the Premier League by beating the Cardiff City Bluebirds in a playoff, and are generally considered a lead pipe cinch to be sent back home to the Championship by season's end.

They've heard it all before: They lack pace; even their fast guys are slow.  They lack stars; there’s no Ya Ya’s or Rafael’s or Gareth’s on the roster.  In fact, most of them look like they’re just a blue button down and pair of khakis away from the printer/scanner aisle at the local Office Depot.

Of course, their pool-side opponents, the Reds, are longer, leaner, and more generally perfect fits for the part of today's well-groomed and well-spoiled metrosexual mega-athlete.  Gerard has the build of two-legged deer, and plows through territory with long, gainful strides.  Glen Johnson appears similarly, but also has the stylish corn-row hair and artful sleeve of tattoos to compliment his look.  And Fernando Torres, well he pretty much has the whole Diva thing down by now, including the part about leaving the pitch five minutes into the match on account of a case of the vapors.

But despite the seemingly long odds for Blackpool, right from the game's start you knew this wouldn't be a mismatch.  Early on there was Adam’s turn out of his own penalty area and 60 yard cross to the right foot of Tangerine defender Neal Eardley, who quickly took five steps and slung a venomous ball back across the Liverpool goal, only to have E.J. Campbell just miss crushing it home with a half-volley.  [Editor's note: never use a half-volley when a full-volley will do.]

Then there was Adam’s treatment of Liverpool’s self-proclaimed Lionel Messi, Joe Cole.  In a moment that would make even Chelsea Lately blush, Adam nutmegged Mr. Cole, turned past him, and as the hapless Mr. Cole followed like a petulant child, heeled it back past his pursuer.  This brought a chill up the leg of the announcers who together squealed with glee:  “He just Joe Cole’d Joe Cole!!!”  And left Joe Cole screaming with dismay:  “That guy just Lionel Messi’d Lionel Messi!!!”

Perhaps Adam's best play was the right-footed pass by the left-footed Scotsman that curled around the back of the now stupified Johnson (one can only image his immediate thought: “I’m too good looking for this to happen to me!”) and right onto the foot of the afore-mentioned E.J. Campbell, leaving Johnson nothing to do but yank him down in the penalty area for a PK.  And up stepped Charlie Adam to flush it past Reina.  Can I stop now or do you need more?

Okay, I recall one point in the match where the ball just shot up and bit old Charlie in the arm.  No reason; it just happened.  Adam stopped, looked down at the ball disapprovingly, and then glanced over at the ref, who quickly realized such a call was beneath the Tangerine Vice Captain (I’m not kidding about the title), and let play continue.

I recall another drive in which Adam was breaking down the middle of the field, pushing past Gerard and Kuyt and Skyrtle, and driving the ball into the left flat where there was . . . . . no one within 30 yards.  You could almost hear the entire stadium thinking:  “Clearly the winger was way out of position.”

Liverpool did score in this one after a free kick which resulted from a bizarre foul when one Tangerine took the ball awkwardly from another.  Until this point in my understanding of the game I didn’t think you could foul your own player.  Regardless, Gerard quickly deposited the ball onto the head of scowling Greek defensemen Sotirios Kyrgiakos, who slammed it into the back of the net, and suddenly the pressure was on.

Somehow an exhausted Blackpool were able to stumble and claw their way past this, minute after unending minute, and with the score locked at 2-1, the Tangerines needed just one last act of greatness to pull out the win.  But this time it wasn’t Charlie Adam who came to the rescue.

At two minutes and 55 seconds into the three minutes of stoppage time, Liverpool’s Maxi Rodriguez put a perfect cross on the head of Kyrgiakos (again!), who speared it towards the corner of the goal.  It was then that Tangerine goalkeeper Matthew Gilks, formerly the leading light of Norwich City, Rochdale and Shrewsbury Town, had his Gandalf moment.  He threw down his staff and leapt to the left, deflecting the ball and slamming the door shut on Liverpool.

“YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!”, he screamed as the whistle blew.  And then in half-whisper to Adam and his merry band of Tangerines who had just escaped Anfield with 3 points:  “You fools.... Run!!!”

And that's farlieonfootie for October 5th.

Spanning the Globe

I Wonder if the Insurance Policy Covers Excrement?  Turns out the pipe that exploded above the United locker room at the Stadium of $hite wasn't a water pipe, but a sewage pipe.  Hello?  My new Armani suit, ruined?  And you wonder why the United players  seemed distracted for the first half of the game against Sunderland on Saturday?  Poor guys had to play about 10 minutes just to earn enough to buy replacements....

How Much More Does Adam Johnson Need To Do To Earn a Place in City's Starting 11...?  The guys scores his team's only goal in the mid-week Europa League clash against Juve, and then comes on in a 19 minute cameo against Newcastle yesterday to score the winning goal (and, I'm glad to say -- solely for the sake of my Fantasy League Team -- pick up all 3 bonus points for the match).   And this for a team that is not exactly lighting up the scoreboard with goals....  I'm guessing he's going to need to score at least two to three times per game instead of his usual one in order to replace the deadly-boring Gareth Bale or WWF escapee Nigel de Jong. Apparently Roberto Mancini prefers stacking his side with holding mid-fielders than guys who are actually capable of providing offense.

Another Week, Another Broken Leg. Seems par for the course in the EPL this season; I'm beginning to wonder if it's contagious, like the flu.  This past weekend it was Newcastle's Hatem Ben Arfa who sustained a  serious and unfortunate injury. Like Antonio Valencia and Bobby Zamora before him, it looks as if another emerging star has been cruelly cut down just as he was beginning to capture the public's eye. Let's hope the scene with the stretcher is not the last we see of Ben Arfa in the EPL, although there's a good chance it will be as he is currently on just a one-year loan to Newcastle from Ligue 1 side Marseille.

With Friendlies Like This, Who Needs Enemies-lies?  The tackle on Ben Arfa came courtesy of City's Nigel de Jong, and caused an almost five minute stoppage in play to get oxygen and a stretcher onto the pitch and Ben Arfa off it. This is the same Nigel de Jong who tatooed his treadmarks on the chest of Xabi Alonso  during this summmer's World Cup final, and earlier broke American Stu Holden's ankle with a heavy tackle in a pre-World Cup "friendly."  How many more bones does this guy need to break before attracting the referees' attention?  Although City Assistant Coach Brian Kidd apparently saw nothing wrong with de Jong's tackle, I'm glad to report that Dutch Coach Bert van Marwijk did, branding the tackle "wild and unnecessary," and refusing to recall de Jong for this week's Dutch international matches.  Well done, Bert.


photo by The Real Darren Stone	via PhotoRee

What?  No Photos with Hotties in Dirndls?  Bayern Munich's start to the season has been so poor that the team cancelled its annual outing to the city's Oktoberfest and instead handed the players extra training sessions. Lying in 13th place in der Bundesliga, with three losses in seven games, apparently caused panic and sobriety to break out in the capital of Bavaria. I'm glad to report that team management is focused on the root causes of Bayern's poor play and not looking petty or appearing to grope for answers to the team's poor recent play.

Who Played the Part of Emmanuel Adabayor?  Bahrain hosted the country of Togo in a recent international friendly, and won easily, 3-nil.  One possible reason for the Bahraini's semi-famous victory is that  the Togo squad was filled with impostors who ran out of gas in the second half.  Yup, that's right: everyone on the pitch for Togo, from the manager on down, was a fake.  And to think I was unable to come up with a viable reason for Togo's poor play as I watched the match.  Goes to show you that you need to approach this week's coming international matches with a slightly jaundiced eye.  And that's farlieonfootie for October 4th.

Same Old Arsenal: Le Prof's Experiment with Turning Up Le Pressure on Chelsea Explodes in His Face

photo by gordonflood.com	via PhotoRee

Chelsea vs. Arsenal: the big fixture finally arrives as the last game of the weekend. How appropriate that Mike Dean is in charge of the game. I wonder how much Roman paid for his selection....

The game starts with an almost immediate bang as the Gunners miss twice from close range inside the match's first minute. Arsenal play aggressively right from the opening whistle as they press Chelsea high up the pitch. Obviously Le Professor Wenger has a very different gameplan in mind for this season's fixture at the Bridge.  Arsenal play extremely  physical football, crashing into tackles in an attempt to disprove their own coach's assertion that smarts matter more than brawn in today's game.

Chelsea respond and crank up pressure of their own after about 15 minutes, using long passes and corner kicks to threaten Fabianski's goal, which he does his best not to defend. Luckily for Gunner fans, Arsenal's defenders appear not to have received the memo and bail Fabianski out of trouble several times.

By the 25 minute mark Chelsea appear to have two to three more players on the pitch than Arsenal, as the Gunner's pressure strategy has opened up acres of space in the midfield.   Arsenal grab back some of the momentum with a dangerous long shot from Arshavin, and after half an hour the possession is evenly split, with each team holding the ball 50% of the time.

Both Arshavin and Drogba prove wasteful with chances as a remarkably open game unfolds. Le Prof Wenger seems to be be willfully ignoring last week's lecture from the visiting Italian expert, Professor Mancini, on beating Chelsea with a defensive counter-attacking style of football.

Chelsea's goal when it comes is well deserved, Ca$hley Cole assisting on Didier Drogba's 13th goal in 13 games against the Gunners to give the Blues a 1-nil halftime advantage. The goal is painfully reminiscent for Machester United fans of Joe Cole's backheel into the net against the Red Devils last year; after 40 minutes of going toe to toe with the Champs, the Gunners undone by a slick move from a striker at the top of his game.

Well into the second half Arsenal re-apply the pressure as if sunscreen on a Florida summer afternoon, but once again come away with nothing to show for it as their final ball lacks quality virtually every time.  Chelsea are content to play as if City on the counter, and Arsenal miss chance after chance with Chamakh continuing to head the ball usefully away from Chelsea's goal when he isn't busy dropping in the box as if shot by bow and arrow.  Despite Arsenal's dominance, Chelsea almost score again and put the game out of reach with a half hour to go as Squillaci becomes momentarily confused about which team's name appears on his bi-weekly paycheck.  Although he delivers the ball wrapped up in a shiny box with a bow, Anelka inexplicably misses a wide open net to take the three points.

It doesn't matter.  Apparently confusing the battle of the Bridge with a pre-season friendly against Hereford United, with 10 minutes to play and the game still on the line Arsenal bring on the shockingly dangerous Jay Emmanuel Thomas for his first appearance of the season.  The game comes to a conclusion soon afterward with  a fantastic strike by the British Army as an Alex howtizer sends Arsenal fans scurrying for cover and the exits.

Same old Arsenal.  Depsite bossing the game for long stretches, the result is a familar and unwelcome sight for Gunner fans: Chelsea 2- Arsenal nil.  And that's farlieonfootie for October 3rd.

Après Moi le Deluge, or Fit to be Tied?

photo by DrPleishner	via PhotoRee

After me, the flood. In the ceiling above the United dressing room ceiling, apparently. A pipe bursting at the Stadium of $hite before kick off caused the ceiling in the United dressing room to collapse and the game to be delayed 20 minutes. Let's hope there's no foreshadowing involved here.....

My first thought on seeing a strange United roster: Where's Berba?  It's a road game, and Rooney's out, so where's our leading goal scorer this season?  On the bench, apparently. Better hope Owen stays on his current form. Sir Alex seems to be tinkering with the lineup in a bid to find a second pair of strikers in the absence of the favored pairing of Berbatov and Rooney.

Second, third and fourth thoughts: A first start today for Anderson, and Rio Ferdinand, too.  Also, Evra's on the bench; maybe SAF is reading farlieonfootie after all!

United are clearly hoping the clean sheet at Valencia mid-week, which represented the first time our center back pairing of Rio and Vida played together this season, is the beginning of a trend. As for Anderson, who knows.... I've never quite figured this guy out. He doesn't score goals, and he has rarely bossed the midfield in the past two years after a semi-promising start to his United career. Fingers crossed he has a good game today.

Guess I didn't cross my fingers tightly enough.  The start isn't promising: sluggish, slow and out of sorts. And that's Sunderland.  United look even worse. The Red Devils are let off the hook several times on clear cut Sunderland chances, and Nemanja Vidic looks as if he's auditioning for a starting spot in the linebacking corps of the New York Football Giants.  United play as if the match is being held underwater, perhaps an appropriate style given the dressing room situation, and create only one opportunity in the game's first 45 minutes.

United are completely overrun in their deep-lying midfield formation, with almost no possession to show for the first half. Did I miss the news that Xavi, Iniesta and Messi were mysteriously transferred to Sunderland in advance of today's match?  I can't remember the last time we were dominated on the ball like this. Scholes, O'Shea and Anderson are responsible for a couple of shocking giveaways and Macheda and Owen spend more time defending Sunderland corners near their own goal than they do in the opposite half of the pitch -- you know, the one in which the Sunderland goal is located.

It's Berba on for Owen to start the second half, and within the first minute of the re-start he has more touches than Owen and Macheda combined.  Within two minutes the ball is in the back of the net, although it's Chris Foy and not Mike Dean refereeing the game, and Berba is correctly judged  two yards offside when he re-directs the ball past the Sunderland 'keeper Filet Mignon.

The game drifts along aimlessly for the next 20 minutes, as United slowly play their way back into the match. Clearly the United uniforms, soggy from their pre-match soaking, seem dried out and lighter after a blast of the Fergie hairdryer at halftime. Chicharito enters the game in the 65th minute as United seek to gain the upper hand and look for a late winner. Instead, the move seems to inspire Sunderland as they turn up the pressure in repsonse to the urging of the home crowd.

Inexplicably, Anderson stays in the game until the 80th minute, continuing to  provide poor quality crosses and pinpoint accurate passes to the field staff and assistant referees.  Incredibly, Bebe comes on to take his place, appearing for the first time in the regular season. It's Fergie's equivalent of throwing in the kitchen sink.  Steve Bruce immediately responds with the introduction of Ghanaian World Cup hero Asamoah Gyan, who on his first touch attempts a simple Berba-style bicylcle kick straight into VDS's open arms. Pepe Reina take note.

United do not threaten again as Sunderland  runs out the clock. Another United road game, another not-good-enough result. I'm fit to be tied, and so is United. And that's farlieonfootie for October 2nd.

Twente Reasons We Love Spurs

photo by cottontimer	via PhotoRee

Our friend Ed is back by popular demand, this time with a segment on Spurs' memorable night in the Champions League:

September 29 / White Hart Lane, London, England --

The pouring rain is absolutely washing away any bad memories Spurs have of their performance at West Ham on Saturday, an outing that mostly closely resembled a sagging left breast, and Spurs, right from the opening whistle, seem to be a team that’s just been defibrillated with a car battery and jumper cables.  Not enough absurd metaphors for you?  Well, Van Der Vaart clearly must be tired of hearing it from his wife, his dog, his kids, and his shift boss, because he's obviously kicking back at the blissful suburban madness we all endure as he shifts and swerves and bludgeons the staggered defense of Dutch Champions FC Twente.  Yes, that’s “Twente,” like the number, but with an annoying “e” at the end just to make it seem European and sophisticated and, I suspect, Dutch.

It’s my observation that no continental European team ever seems ready for one of England’s best overbites:  6’ 7” , 145 lb. striker Peter Crouch.  The British Flamingo may get close to zero calls in the EPL, but this is Champions League, and here he gets a PK for Spurs after a touch in the penalty area that some might label downright affectionate.  Up steps a simmering VDV, and wow, here’s Spurs’ first . . . . wait, the keeper blocked it?!!  What?!!!!  One might expect dismay or even despair, but now our boy is even more angrier-ey.  It appears that our favorite number 11 has just turned the dial on the amp past 10 and up to, well, 11.

Sadly for our heroes, a dominant first half goes unrewarded.  Despite many attempts, including an incendiary half volley by you know who (hint: sounds like “Pander-fart”), Spurs end up resembling our erstwhile blogger friend farlieonfootie trying to stuff a jumbo bologna sandwich (cheese, pickles, onion, mayo, splash of ketchup) into a tiny ziplock bag – however determined they may be it just isn’t going to happen.  But hey, that’s why there’s two halves, right?  I mean, other than the somewhat mathematical certainty that if there are halves there must be two of them.

Putting algorithm and formula aside, the second half starts with a bang, and our puckish and  hellishly belligerent Dutchman finally hammers one past the Twente keeper for Spurs' first goal.  It’s about midnight in my house but about now I’m dragging myself across what turns out to be a surprisingly abrasive and scratchy carpet screaming “Gola! Gola! Gola!” in my best Spanishy-Dutchy accent. 

Spurs score again, this time on another PK drawn by Gareth Bale.  You know Gareth Bale – he’s the one that makes a plucky little heart with his fingers for the fans when he scores.  Hey, it’s no sliding on the knees and smooching the camera lens, but I think he’s good enough to get away with it.

Twente (seriously, I so want to add a “y”) scores its own goal, fueled in part by their long haired man-child Ruiz.  I can’t speak for you, but I always hated playing against guys who looked like Ruiz, mostly because I knew they were better than me, and also because I just knew they would steal my girlfriend when the game was over.

But wait, did that just happen?!!!  Did our favorite white hot Dutchman just charge some Twente-something that’s leaping to keep a ball in bounds and Ronnie Lott him into next Tuesday?  Yes, that DID just happen.  And instead of just 15 yards, he gets his second yellow, read: “red”, and he’s out of the game.  I can't even imagine the paddling Headmaster Harry gave him after that tantrum.  But fortunately and somewhat surprisingly, despite the loss of the steaming Dutch teakettle, Spurs score twice more and close out the 4-1 victory. 

  

Those Spurs.  They may not be much on Saturdays.  Or even Sundays.  They may have a tough go of it against teams like Blackpool and Blackburn and Black-whatever.  They may not even be able to field a respectable team for the Carling Cup.  But hey -- after an over twente year drought from the Champions League, those Spurs seem to show up every Wednesday with sharp chicken toes and an attitude like Denis Farina after he finds out that they didn’t get the guy who wore the wire at that place that time.  Or something like that.

And that's farlieonfootie for October 1st.