A Thing of Real Beauty

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Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Argentina vs. Portugal
34,000 feet
Somewhere between New York and Florida, courtesy DirecTV and Continental Airlines

It's red, white and blue on display in Geneva, as Portugal enter in their familiar maroon, and Argy Bargy show up in the famous sky blue and white, the latter color matching the smattering of snow still on the pitch Wednesday evening in Switzerland for the international friendly.

The game opens as if poetry in motion, both sides showing majestic fluidity in attack, with Lionel Messi tiptoeing through the Portuguese defense like tulips, and Cristiano Ronaldo showcasing pace with the ball at his feet that makes him one of the game's most exciting and feared attackers. From the outset, both Argentina and Porutgal play breathtakingly beautiful one touch football, the ball pinging back-and-forth and side-to-side as the teams trade opening jabs. Both Di Maria and Ronaldo find the net in the opening twenty minutes, the game exploding into non-stop, end-to-end action. Jose Mourinho, Pep Guardiola and Sir Alex must be wincing slightly to see their all-stars playing their hearts out for their respective countries, keeping fingers crossed that no one gets hurt, and wondering if by any means they could all slow it down just a bit and save some strength for the upcoming weekend's exertions.

The contest offers countrymen and neutrals a clear view of the world's best pure footballers, and Cristiano (he of the artfully coiffed, slicked back hair), and Lio (showcasing his two-day unshaven, gruff look) don't disappoint, the two men absolutely riveting to watch. Like great NFL running backs, there's very little side motion in their movement, only forward, broken field running and hurdling with the ball attached to their feet as if by super glue. These two are playing a different game than other mere mortals -- with the possible exception of Dimitar Berbatov --  both in terms of their goal output and sheer footballing brilliance, playing the game as it must have first been imagined by God.

Surf's Up for Spurs

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Columnist Ed is back on the Spurs' beat, in large part due to a suspension for "ungentlemanly conduct" committed by columnist James at the farlieonfootie office holiday party:

When Niko Kranjcar cracked a screamer into the right side of the net on Saturday in stoppage time and gave the Spurs a 2-1 victory over Bolton, you could just sense that the EPL had changed.  United had lost, Chelsea was to lose, and now this Spurs side showed that they don’t merely have the talent to make a push this season, they also have the depth.

It’s well known, I think, that footballers rise and fall in waves (See, eg, Et tu, Blackpool – there is a tide in the affairs of men, etc. etc.), and these waves become very clear in the long season of the EPL.  Injuries take their toll on some, fatigue on others, and malaise on others still. 

Take Gareth Bale as an example.  At the beginning of last season he didn’t start, and when he did they couldn’t win.  By the end he had taken his place at left halfback due to injury, and had become, arguably, the most influential attacker on the team.

Or take Aaron Lennon.  Against Bolton he appeared a danger every time he touched the ball.  This form he is in now – which he’s been in for about a month – was something he had prior to his injury last season and has only picked up again after about four or five months of injury and uninspired play.

Goon Squad

Three of Arsenal's Defenders Take a Break at Half Time
photo by GoonSquadSarah	via PhotoRee

One of the most gripping games of the season deserves another look, so we'll spend a moment or two dwelling on each of the eight goals that led to Arsenal ripping up two points and setting the pieces on fire:

• Theo Walcott opened up Toon like a can opener in the game's first minute, splitting the Newcastle defense right down the middle. Walcott has turned deadly with his finishing this season, and his 11th goal of the season showcased two of his many talents: pace and composure.

• Less than two minutes later it's Djourou on the scoreboard, steering Arshavin's dangerous cross into the back of the net. The game can't have started much worse for Pardew's boys, as Arsenal are two goals to the good before the game hits the three minute mark. The Magpies appear shellshocked, but they ain't seen nothing yet.

• Before ten minutes are elapsed it's 3-nil. This time it's Van Persie doing the damage, found through a sweet Walcott cross pulled back into the middle of the box. Alan Pardew claps his hands as if to wake his team up, and to this point in the game Arsenal are absolutely ripping the Newcastle defense to shreds. 

Warning: Yawning is Contagious

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It's Blue versus Red, Chelsea versus Liverpool, with Fernando Torres making his way to the opposite side of the pitch from the men who were his teammates a mere six days ago.

Torres starts singing from his new songbook slightly off key, as his first touch of the ball ends up in the stands high and wide of the Liverpool goal.  The two teams take some time feeling each other out, with neither side showing great fluency in attack in the game's opening twenty minutes. Much like the Super Bowl that occurs later today, the early action is not living up to the week of hype that has led up to the game.

Although Chelsea show occasional glimpses resembling a threat, at the 25 minute mark the game is still waiting to burst into life as neutrals around the world stifle a yawn. Liverpool seem lacking any type of a cutting edge up top, and to rely on Dirk Kuyt for his goalscoring prowess is to set yourself up for failure.

Fernando Torres announces his intent to stamp his mark on the game as he's slotted though by Drogba, but it's Carragher to the rescue with a block. At the other end, Cech is quickly tested for the first time, but it's a minute or two later when Maxi Rodriguez misses a sitter on a through ball from Gerrard, and his lack of quality is appaling.  

Clueless

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Manchester United travel to Molineux, on a weekend full of goals, to take on a Wolves side that is notoriously tough to beat at home. United channel Los Blancos today in their all white kits, but it's doubtful they'll remain unblemished for long, as the pitch more accurately resembles a muddy cow pasture than an EPL-worthy playing field.

United open in typical fashion, with another early goal helping to settle the nerves.  This time it's Nani, not Rooney, putting the ball in the back of the net to give the visitors a quick 1-nil lead, as George Elokobi gives Nani more than the inch of space he needs, and the Portuguese hit man beats Wolves 'keeper Wayne Hennessy on the near side.

In fact, in the early going Wolves' defensive plan today seems to involve giving United as much space as they desire, with both Rooney and Nani testing the keeper with stinging efforts before the ten minute mark.
Elokobi eventually makes up for his error at the other end, though, as on ten minutes the game is back to square, with United switching off yet again on a set play. Elokobi steers Jarvis' corner into the back of Vandy's net, and it's game on.

Is it Live or is it Memorex?

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I watch a lot of football. A lot. Mostly English Premier League, a smattering of La Liga, the occasional German game, even an Italian game or two. Also the U.S. Men's National Team. And the English Team, too, if their game is televised here. And Champions League. Sometimes Europa League. Plus the Cups, FA and League. 

As I said, I watch a lot of football.

But how am I able to do this, and still lead a normal life (I know -- hold the jokes on the "normal life" part; qualify it, and read "lead a relatively normal life")? Let me explain through an analogy.


In what feels like a former life, I used to surf. Not well, and not a ton, but I was known to get the board shorts wet every now and then.  But to live the life of a surfer in South Florida isn't easy. It's not like California or Hawaii, where the swells arrive at regularly appointed intervals and all you have to do is show up. No, to be a surfer in South Florida is to find yourself dependent upon weather systems and wind-blown waves, and to deal with lots of chop. No neatly manicured regular sets to dive into here. So, basically, you're always looking with one eye to the weather, waiting for just the right conditions to pop up, which they do -- not regularly, but just enough to keep you interested. And when they do pop up, you've got to drop everything else that is going on with your life -- work, family, friends -- and hit the beach. Basically, you've got to be a surf bum, or someone with an extremely flexible work schedule. But it's very hard to be a serious surfer in South Florida and hold down any kind of a regular job.

Being a soccer addict in the US holds very similar issues:

More Questions Than Answers

photo by Ian Wilson	via PhotoRee

Some observations and further questions upon watching Liverpool - Stoke City:

• The bias in English football commentary is striking and very obvious at times. Witness the gem that came out of one of the announcer's mouth at the beginning of Wednesday's Liverpool match against Stoke City: 

"[There's] Just a totally different feeling about [Liverpool] since Kenny came back in. I saw them a few weeks ago, against Blackburn, and they were absolutely dreadful."  

Ummm, maybe I have this wrong, but I think Liverpool is 3-2-1 since King Kenny returned, with victories over Stoke, Wolves and Fulham.  They're not exactly setting the world on fire.... They've managed to lose their biggest star, and replaced him with some very expensive question marks. Is that a totally different feeling, or a totally different standard?   You decide. 

• While I'm at it, I might as well bring up the double standard among the scouse fans, as well. Can you imagine the howls of derision Uncle Woy would have endured if he not only let 'Nando fly the Kop (er, coop), but if he also changed the team formation as radically as Dalglish has?  Liverpool showed off a 3-5-2 tonight vs. Stoke.  I can't see Roy Hodgson getting anything but stick if he tried to change the system in such a manner.

Like an Overstuffed Easy Chair

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Manchester United defeated a spirited Aston Villa side today in a 3-1 win at Old Trafford in which the final scoreline does not reflect the true ease of the contest. Displaying only flashes of brilliance, United turned in a performance as comfortable as an overstuffed easy chair while cruising to victory, and could have scored goals by the bucketfull if not for a typically magnificent performance in goal by Villa's wise old American 'keeper, Brad Friedel.

Perhaps most worryingly for their rivals, the Red Devil attack this evening was spearheaded not by the EPL's leading scorer, Dimitar Berbatov, but rather by his once and future strike partner, Wayne Rooney, who increased his season scoring output by 66% with a brace.  With his performance tonight, Rooney reminded friend and foe alike that he can still strike like a deadly cobra, and the rest of the league would do well to sit up and take notice.

Also turning back the clock to yesteryear was Sir Ryan Giggs, who turned in yet another scintillating performance in midfield -- his third world class performance in a row to this viewer's eyes. Giggs not only showed bursts of his old pace, but time and again he demonstrated his unparallelled vision and creativity on the pitch in tearing the Villa midfield into tiny little pieces. United looked threatening virtually every time Giggs touched the ball, and much of the attack this evening ran through Giggs and the left hand side of the pitch.

Makin' it Rain in the EPL

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Random thoughts on transfer activity and more, from the blog's muse, Ed.  He's always interesting, if not too accurate in his assessments:

• What to make of Spurs four-nil loss to the Cottagers in the FA Cup?  Nothing.  It’s the FA cup and Spurs needed out.

• Would have liked to see Dempsey get out of Fulham if for no other reason than a change might be fun for him and for fans.

• Spurs £35MM for Guiseppe Rossi wasn’t accepted.  Wish they could’ve gotten in the mix for Carroll.  They could have unloaded Crouch and Pav for something – maybe enough to make up for the cost.

• Charlie Adam would have been good for Liverpool.  He might have been better for Spurs.  Where, you ask?   How about where Wilson Palacios plays?  Those cross field passes to Bale and Lennon would make Spurs tough to stop.  And to hear it was missed by minutes.  What could have been . . . . .

Ladyboys and Transfer Deadlines

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So Fernando Torres (aka, the Ladyboy) has off and joined Chelsea, then.  Is this what the EPL has come to?  I don’t like my current team, or my well paid contract, and despite my protestations to the contrary, I’m ready to move to a bitter rival at a moment’s notice.

It seems indeed as if the culture of English football has definitively changed this year, and not for the better.  And it’s not just Liverpool and the transfer saga they underwent this week with their oft-injured striker, either.  No, this season opened with the “will he or won’t he” storyline playing out on the streets of London and Barcelona, as Arsenal’s Captain Cesc Fabregas sat down with Le Professor to profess his undying love not for the Gunners, but for the Blaugrana.  Although young Ab-Fab was mollified in the short-term, I’m not sure there’s anyone alive who doesn’t believe that his life-long dream will be fulfilled in the next 12-18 months.

The saga next shifted scenes to the tony streets of Cheshire, as balaclava wearing fans milled threateningly outside of Wayne Rooney’s home while he contemplated a move across town to join the nouveau riche gang at Manchester City.  Once again, the dalliance proved fleeting, although not before good ol’ Wayne questioned the very ambition of his club, and the strength of his current teammates (that seems funny in retrospect.  Should’ve been the other way around, huh?), alienating fans and fellow players alike before changing his mind and signing a new five year contract to stay at Old Trafford.