The Changing Room

photo by RachelH_	via PhotoRee

You'll notice some changes around here over the coming days and weeks. Probably not the changes you'd like to see -- for example, contrary to popular desire, Correspondent Ed is NOT leaving -- but rather the changes we'd like to see. And as this is our website we're going to make them. Because we think farlieonfootie will be the be better for them. And this whole endeavour is continually about trying to get better, sharper and more enjoyable for you, our valued readers.

For one, we won't be publishing our updates daily, as we've done every single day for the past eight months.  At least for the next 45-60 days or so. As we slip into a football off-season filled with non-events, transfer rumors and speculation, we'll take some time off to stop and smell the non-football roses in our life. I'm not sure yet as to the exact new schedule, but we'll take it as it comes. Please continue to check this page regularly as I hope we'll continue to put out quality writing --- just not as much of it in the short term. 

We're going to slant a bit more heavily toward beer reviews during the coming month or two. Sure, we'll offer our thoughts on new signings,  announcements, and world football news, but we'll also be sipping and reviewing the world's best craft beers in an effort to introduce you to some new favorites. Drinking beer is not a bad way to spend the summer, and we're kind of looking forward to the opportunity.

There's No Shame in Losing

photo by 99 James Kieran Nguyen	via PhotoRee

Some final thoughts on Manchester United's 3-1 loss to Barcelona in the Champions League:

o I'm incredibly proud of this team. Yes, they got beat, but the spirit with which they contested the match was nothing short of fantastic, and true to the United tradition. This pains me to say, but they were beaten by a better team -- on the night. Barcelona played absolutely stunning football on Saturday, spinning the pass wheel roulette, poking, prodding and probing in order to find and exploit even the slightest United weakness. Sometimes you just have to stand up and applaud, which is what I did at the game's conclusion, mesemerized by a little Argentine magician at the top of his game, spurred on to even greater heights by a Spanish maestro in the middle who dictated the game's tempo.

o Barca earned my respect on the night, but still has a long way to go to earn my admiration. Their beauty is often cheapened by their theatrics, diving and simulation, which appeared even as they won their fourth European Championship. Perhaps it is a sign of the youth in their squad, but Pep Guardiola would do well to remind his players that they are representing both a club and a culture, and their continued flopping, time wasting and overy-theatrical rolling around on the pitch do nothing to enhance their reputation.

o I was impressed by both Barca's speed and defense, and in particular by the wonderfully gifted Eric Abidal. Antonio Valencia saw little if any of the ball during the match, and much of that came down to Abidal's teriffic play on Barca's left flank.

Keep The Red Flag Flying High

photo by Paolo Camera	via PhotoRee

We'll never die, we'll never die,
We'll never die, we'll never die,
We'll keep the Red flag flying high,
'Cos Man United will never die

This is farlieonfootie for May 29.

I'll Take One of Those, Please

I'm hoping to see this is Edwin Van der Sar's hands in about six hours....

London Calling

photo by davidhc	via PhotoRee

More of the sites and sounds of a pre-match London:

o Well, the weather is doing its level best to cooperate for the weekend's festivities.  What started out as a gray, gloomy and chilly day has ended in near perfection, the sun finally peeking out from beneath the clouds and the climate becoming more temperate by the minute.  If we can just keep it this way a bit longer....

o What was the guy in line next to me at customs thinking when he told me my football warmup jacket should be blue? Maybe I have this wrong, but didn't Manchester United beat Chelsea four times this season?

o Is it just me, or does it sound slightly suggestive every time the recorded female voice on the Underground announces I'm headed toward "Cockfosters?"

Road Trippin'

photo by Global Jet	via PhotoRee

So, as with all great road trips, this journey began with a beer. An ice cold beer. Designed to smooth out the vague remnants of a hangover from last night's office sending off party, the 12 ounces of Sam Adams Light eased me into the initial stages of my 8-hour journey to London. I've headed to England's Capital, sometimes known as The Big Smoke, to see Saturday's Champions League Final pitting the underdog English Champions Manchester United against the favored La Liga winners, Barcelona.

As the wheels of the farlieonfootie Corporate G-5 left Miami terra firma, I tilted back the last of my beer to consummate the silent toast I had just offered, and pointed in the general direction of where I thought farlieonfootie's crack Correspondents Ed, James, Tom and Scott were.  Part of the farlieonfootie "Champions League invasion" of London, we'd only yesterday finished our staff planning session regarding responsibilities for our extensive team coverage of the weekend's festivities. What we hadn't planned was a raucous office party that spiraled hazily out of control, leaving me as the only one of our five intrepid reporters still standing, with two of the others hospitalized with debilitating hangovers, one arrested (I do believe you're innocent, Tom, but couldn't wire the funds in time for you to make bail!), and the fifth man still missing in action (names have been withheld to protect the innocent, but if Correspondent Ed's wife is reading this, please shoot me an email through our completely confidential office system to let me know where (if?) he eventually turned up. Last I saw Ed, he was looking slightly the worse for wear, with no shirt or belt, and only one shoe still on his person).

Tangerine Tears

photo by Amanda M Hatfield	via PhotoRee

There we all were in the restroom of FOF headquarters, holding rolled up cold cuts – salami, ham, liverworst – in an effort to entice our curled up boss-man out of the stall he had been curled up on the floor of for several hours.  At first people weren’t sure where he was, but then the whimpering got louder and the frenetic shouts of names like “Hangelaand!!!”  and “Berbatov!!!”  and “Van der Vaart!!!” gave away his location.  

Perhaps it’s not easy being the boss some times, but I suspect it’s even harder when after all the bluster and chest pounding you end up LOSING YOUR OFFICE FANTASY POOL to guys like me and an office page named Raul or Mike or something like that (seriously, I don’t know who that guy is, but I suspect computer hacking had something to do with his ability to edge me out for first place in the league by 3 points).

I’m pleased to say that we finally did get him out of the stall – we grabbed him when he reached for some bologna  – and even then I was surprised to see him in such disarray.  I think I’ve seen the frayed blanket before (his light blue “woobie” (yes, I said “light blue” United fans!)), but I’ve never before seen the tiny stuffed deer that he was cuddling with.  I mean, seriously, I’d almost think it’s sad if it didn’t make me so hells bells happy.  So let me say it to all of you here first: 

RENDER THE SALAD UNTO ME!!!

Mistakes Were Made

photo by becca.peterson26	via PhotoRee

In which I own up to the times when my prediction radar was slightly off:

Despite nailing the fact that Wigan would just edge out Brum in the relegation battle all the way back in mid-January, in the very same column I didn't quite manage to see how the bottom of the table would play out.  Witness this gem:

"West Ham will not be relegated.   Maybe they deserve to be, and maybe it’s just my latent sympathy for Avram Grant and our farlieonfootie columnist Ian, but I don’t think the Hammers are going down."

Umm, the worst team in the League usually gets relegated, and Hammers happened to be bottom of the table.  Guess you can't win them all.  Grade: F

Or  how about this terrific piece of football insight, from the very same column:

"...[D]espite my genuine affection for Mick McCarthy, I don’t see Wolves staying up..." 

Wrong again!  Mick's boys managed to get hot at the right time and prove me wrong.  But surely, you note, that's only two things from that fateful column you got wrong.  You didn't miss another, did you?

Legendary

photo by My Alternative Photos	via PhotoRee

Tuesday night was a fitting tribute to a legendary servant of the club. Huffing and puffing his way up and down the pitch, Gary Neville -- RedNev, to his legion of fans -- said goodbye to the 42,000 faithful at Old Trafford in an exhibition game played at a leisurely pace against Juventus of Italy. Fittingly, the former England right back was joined on the night by several other "kids" who created Fergie's Golden Generation of players: Ryan Giggs and Paul Scholes, who seem to be getting younger with each passing year, and David Beckham and Nicky Butt from Manchester United days gone by.


United "lost" the game 2-1, but the final scoreline mattered less than the heart and spirit shown by both sides on the pitch.  Herewith, some further thoughts while watching the game, along with some implications for Saturday's Champions League final:

• What in the world are Wayne Rooney and Ryan Giggs doing on the pitch five days before the European championship??  I'm sure the Neville Testimonial was scheduled weeks ago, but did the Reds' front office have such little faith in the club's chances of making the final that they scheduled this game for the same week?  I can't imagine an NFL team preparing for the Super Bowl by giving a exhibition runout to two starters and some important bench players (Scholes, and possibly O'Shea, Anderson and Rafael) the week of the final.

I See Dead People

photo by riptheskull	via PhotoRee

While some of my readers out there see dead people, I see the future.  I see only the football future, though, and often I see it imperfectly.  But when I see it, I write about it.  So, in order to see how I've done as a prognosticator, let's check in on a few of the predictions I made this season to see if I was seeing something close to what actually happened.  farlieonfootie prides itself not on getting things right -- any blathering idiot can do that -- but rather by sticking our necks out and boldly going where no man has dared to tread before.  Often with good reason.

Today we'll examine the part of the scorecard where things went right for us, and later in the week we'll see if we can find anything we wrote that wasn't quite as accurate.  I'm sure I can find something if I look hard enough:

1. Let's start with a big one, going all the way back to the beginning of the season.  I'd say I got this one about Chicharito, written back in September, pretty close to spot on:

"As close friends...know, ever since I first saw him break onto the scene at the World Cup I've been predicting that young Javier Hernandez, United's Little Sweet Pea, would be an immediate sensation in his first year in England."  

I don't know many people other than Paul Scholes who thought the little Mexican would become a United mainstay this season, but I saw something special right from the get go.  We all know Scholes has impeccable football vision, but how about mine?  Grade: A+