Mourinho – The Special One (Eye)

Jose Mourinho, the self-acclaimed ‘Special One’, is back in English football. Most of us will welcome him as he provides some much-needed spice, plus a serious challenge to the Manchester duopoly, in the post-Ferguson Premier League. His platinum-plated arrogance both rankles and amuses in equal measure.

His CV is pretty impressive with success in his native Portugal, Italy and of course in his previous incarnation at Stamford Bridge. He is in select company, having won The Champions League with two different clubs and domestic titles in four different countries. Real Madrid may be a slight blot but he did squeeze in a Copa del Rey in his first season and took away Barcelona’s grip on La Liga in his second. As failures go that is not a calamity.

So there is little doubt he is good at his job, ask Ibrahimovic, the Swedish behemoth fawns on his managerial powers, as revealed in his modestly, intriguingly entitled autobiography ‘I am Zlatan Ibrahimovic’ “That guy says whatever he wants. I like him. He’s the leader of his army.” He makes his teams difficult to beat and sometimes difficult to watch but Chelsea fans would, like most others, choose substance over style. Ask any Arsenal fan.

But there is the small matter of his whingeing, which materialised after Bayern Munich's recent squeaky, slightly fortuitous Super Cup win. Jose bleated about “this is my history with  Uefa for a long, long time” and how the devils incarnate have been cooking up trouble to undermine Mourinho. Poor old Jose has had to contend with this endless campaign to do him down. Well Uefa may not be everybody’s cup of tea or anybody’s favourite governing body for European football but not even Platini's henchmen would stoop that low.

No this is just another example of the persecution complex that most leading managers employ to rally their troops. It's us against the rest of the world, let's gather round and batten down the hatches. The enemy are everywhere, we are surrounded. Mourinho also employs the trait of all successful club managers, Ferguson & Wenger pre-2005, that of partial vision whereby one develops an incredible capacity to view things through one eye.

That single rather squint eye only sees selective moments from the game and also distorts anything outside that view. The result is that any loss is the fault of the officials, referees, assistant referees, technology, FA, UEFA - the usual suspects. You will never hear any admission of failure or culpability laid at the feet of the team or woe betide, the manager. This is an attitude akin to that of a playground 'it's not my fault, sir it was that horrible big boy Webb. He's a cheat.' Alright Jose, now be a good boy, sit back down at your desk and try not to throw those toys out of the pram again.

The Ashes 2013 - England win The Crying Games

 It has not been an epic Ashes.  The drama of Trent Bridge  promised  a captivating, enthralling series to rival 2005 with the Aussies getting tantalisingly close to a thrilling turnaround victory, prompted by the extraordinary test debut innings of the smiling, beguiling teenager Ashton Agar. Even his name sounds like a film star’s nom de plume – he goes straight into the Gone with the Wind as deputy to C. Gable. If ever an Australian was going to win over the English public this good-looking, naïve charmer was the man. I have never been so disappointed to see an opposition player get out when he finally fell on his elegant sword, on 98. We also had the additional spicy ruckus caused by another fresh-faced youth, Stuart Broad. Broad’s inability to detect the ball being smashed off the centre of his bat straight to first slip via the keeper’s gloves, and Aleem Dar’s sudden blindness. This match had all the elements – controversy, charm, charisma, pulsating cut and thrust leading to a fitting denouement. The end of the final innings was as thrilling when the final pair added 65 and when Haddin was caught behind within touching distance of the target, it was all to be decided by everybody’s favourite referral system DRS.

An electrifying series was in the offing but it did not materialise as none of the subsequent games contained the same excitement or tension of that first match. Lord’s was embarrassingly easy for England as the Aussies showed the backbone of a worm in a pathetic first innings display, after Rogers was somehow felled by Swann’s very impressive impersonation of a Simon Kerrigan delivery, a looping full toss which was drifting high wide and not particularly handsome. The most amazing aspect of this was that Rogers did not review the decision as the Aussies had decided to only review those that were plumb LBWs as pioneered by Shane Watson. Such village cricket was then put into perspective by Root’s imperious 180, another young man who captured our admiration. Like Agar and unlike so many of his peers, Root smiles and clearly loves playing cricket at the highest level, which is a striking contrast to the standard sullen grumpiness that seems to be the norm.

Not sure how his angelic looks inspired the pantomime villain, David Warner to give him a clout in a club even before the Ashes had started but Warner’s return to the fold provided the boo-boys with plenty of material. Warner’s exile preceded the removal of Mickey Arthur, the slightly hapless South African coach of Australia. Surely, Arthur would have been better suited to leading England aka South Africa B. New coach Darren Lehmann or Boof as he is affectionately known (and will be forever after his broadside at our Stuart) decided to weigh into the Broad debate and implored the Australian crowds to send him home blubbing from the forthcoming return series starting in Brisbane in November. At least the authorities do not have to waste any expenditure on those on-field fireworks that are meant to ignite the atmosphere.

Talking of pyrotechnics, Old Trafford lived up to Manchester’s reputation for moisture and was literally a damp squib.  Australia cursed their misfortune as the only real rain that had fallen in the previous few months in a surprisingly hot, dry English summer, made it to the North West for the last day to rescue England as they teetered on the brink at 27-3, chasing an implausible 300 odd after saving the follow-on, courtesy of another Australian failure with DRS when not reviewing a Pietersen LBW which was nailed on and of course KP then struck an important match-saving century. Just as England were gasping for air the heavens opened and did not relent until it was too late for Clarke and he shook hands with Captain Cook and the Ashes were going nowhere.

Durham was hosting its first ever Ashes Test Match and did everyone proud with a gripping match, the second best of the series. Australia were in command until Ian Bell continued a rather handy knack of notching a century whilst all around him were losing their heads, and wickets. Australia still had a sniff and had set off with good intent, only to be blown away by baby-faced assassin, Lehmann’s favourite guy, S. Broad. Poised on 168-2 with just over a hundred required Stuart produced the best bowling spell of the series, blowing away the Aussie batsmen as if they were matchstick men, ending with a  devastating spell of 6-20, it was enough to make a grown man cry, Darren kindly take note.

So on to the Oval, that arena which has seemingly been purpose-built to host the most dramatic of climaxes to the really big series. With the aid of some imaginative captaincy, which overcame a few weather delays (as Kennington did a passable impression of Manchester) and some laboriously painful batting by England, which suggested that timeless tests had been re-introduced by the ICC without anyone knowing. The last day’s menu was ‘carrot au dangle’ courtesy of Masterchef Clarke served on a feather bed of a pitch for England’s Cook. This delicious meal was coming to the boil nicely, helped by some KP sauce and a slice of Trott-er when the inevitable happened. It was time for the Idiotic Cretinous Clowns aka the ICC to intervene. Four overs were left, 21 runs required in the dwindling light on a bright summer’s evening in South London as the rules and regulations struck. Hopeless umpires now became helpless umpires as the light meter readings determined the game to be cut short, strangled just as the juiciest of ends was in sight.

Even mild-mannered and overall good egg, Jonathan Agnew, BBC’s cricket correspondent, was apoplectic with rage over this ridiculous ending to the series, ‘an absolute shambles’ was his bitter conclusion. So when Aggers starts doing his impression of a hybrid of Warner and Lehmann at their most venomous, you know that everything in the world is not right. For a game that has to encourage people to spend prodigious amounts of money to watch the lamest of finishes we are at home to Incompetent Crass Clots. To cap it off, there was the after-show party where the England players gathered near the square under the cover of darkness, no need for light meters now and ‘relieved themselves’ which proved to be utterly shocking to the shy, sensitive Aussies such as seasoned cricket writer, Malcolm Conn. The meekness of the apology from ECB matched some of the most mealy-mouthed utterances of recent years. For all you shy, retiring Ockers out there look away now as this whole escapade was surely taking the piss. So bring on Brisbane in November for more tears at bedtime.

Platini's flight of fancy

"C'est une superbe idee, Michel" Platini has attracted endless accolades for his brilliantly inventive plan to split the responsibility for hosting the Euro Championship in 2020 to a range of cities across a handful of countries. Nobody can accuse UEFA's President of lacking imagination. Courage, mon brave.

But why stop there? Let's go one step further and let's get really radical. I think we should go the whole hog and have each half in a different venue. Imagine the fun to be had when you not only announce  how many added minutes there are going to be at the end of the first half but also where the second half is going to be played.

Watch the teams race off at the whistle to check their travel arrangements and their Air Miles account.
It may be hammering it down in the first 45 minutes in Riga only to be switched to glorious sunshine on the Algarve. The acid test for any team is surely being able to win the game in two different countries.

What about the fans, you may ask. Well, they could be down and out in both Paris and London within the space of a match. Also what a way to boost the ailing European economy. This plan is multi-dimensional and just gets better and better.

An Orwellian dream or a Platini nightmare?  

Freedman's Flight of Fancy

Risking accusations of being naive and old-fashioned, I was dazed and a little dismayed to see Dougie Freedman leave Palace for Bolton. The whole episode leaves me slightly shell-shocked and posing lots of uncomfortable questions such as is there any loyalty left in football?

As a player Dougie was one of our best of the last few decades and he was showing promise as a thoughtful, yet inexperienced manager. Freedman had been quoted only a week ago talking of his need to finish the task he had undertaken at Selhurst and not being someone who left things halfway through. He also had made a big thing about convincing the young stars such as Wilfred Zaha to stay to ensure a proper grounding before moving on to a bigger club. What price Zaha now?

No disrespect to Bolton but one wonders exactly what he is going to achieve by this move apart from a more lucrative contract (for which he cannot be blamed). The reason quoted for this move was that Palace could not match the ambition of Bolton, is this really the case? Surely most half-decent Championship clubs have ambition to reach the Premiership and although Bolton have only just come down after a dozen years at the top table (and have the considerable financial cushion of parachute payments), are they really more ambitious or just a tad more desperate?

When the dust finally settles, maybe there will be a logical explanation and at present the only one that makes any sense is that there was a fundamental disagreement between Dougie and the board over future direction, but why has that only just materialised?

I look forward to some answers eventually but who knows will there be more questions in the meantime?

Qualified success in Donetsk

So England have not only qualified for the Quarter-finals, but have done so as Group Winners. Cue mass celebration and a surge of optimism. Well not quite, after the composed passivity of the first match, we had the frenzied victory over the Swedish, but the Ukraine game saw England falling back to some bad old ways. The familiar pattern of conceding possession regularly, not exercising any control and always seeming to be on the verge of something going wrong, returned with a vengeance.

Ukraine dominated the first half and aside from the 'ghost goal' really deserved at least a draw. But the biggest problem is that Ukraine are a limited team, especially with Shevchenko on the sidelines and to be dominated in this way by a second rate side is worrying. They created a raft of chances which they spurned through a combination of naivety and lack of ability. Even after taking the lead, at no stage did England look comfortable and this does not augur well for the latter stages of the tournament.

The victory was more to do with team spirit, hanging on in there at times with some last ditch defending, than any grand design. So as the momentum grows behind England's campaign (this impetus will undoubtedly reach fever pitch in the run-up to the Quarter-Final with Italy), my heart sinks and I fear the worst. When facing a team of experience and stature such as Italy, England will be exposed as limited and overrated.

Fancied French fail to flatten functional England

We have been here many times before, watching England being outmanoeuvred by a technically more adept team. However, this time it felt slightly different in that the concession of territory seemed more of a deliberate ploy, encouraging the French to come on to our two solid banks of four who coped pretty well with any threat posed. This was more by tactical design rather than a failure of technique.

In the end, most of the danger mustered by France came from shots outside the penalty area, including Nasri's neatly-executed equaliser and a couple of well-struck attempts by Benzema. Despite his trickery Ribery rarely broke through the shackles of a solid and disciplined defence. England were not cut to ribbons as they were during the friendly at Wembley back in November 2010 and there was a modicum of control and even some calmness on the ball, which distinguished this performance from many in previous tournaments against superior opposition.

Whilst Welbeck did not muster an effort on goal, his overall play was impressive as he held the ball up and distributed it with an accuracy that looked a little strange coming from an English centre forward. Young and Oxlade-Chamberlain scampered to reasonable effect but never quite broke through, whilst Parker was as resolute as ever in tandem with the slightly more adventurous Gerrard.

Unlike so many previous occasions England didn't treat the ball as though it was an unexploded bomb, to be disposed of as quickly as possible. Whilst possession was squandered now and again, at least it looked like England were prepared to hold on to the ball in anticipation of a better option and rotate possession rather than get rid of it regardless. 

Hodgson's achievement, in such a short space of time, is to have instilled in the players a belief that they can stick to a pattern of play where the ball is no longer their enemy, but it is yet to be seen if he can convince them it should be their friend, to be cherished and nurtured. This change in attitude will inevitably take a lot longer to materialise, but at least there are signs of progress.

Match Officials or glorified ball boys?

Holland's failure to convert any of their numerous chances against Denmark proved to be their undoing and has left the much-fancied Dutch facing an early elimination from Euro 2012. They have nobody to blame but themselves for their profligacy and poor conversion rate, from 29 shots to muster only six on target is pitiful and to draw a blank when dominating a match so completely does note bode well for their chances of progressing into quarter-finals.

There was however a single mitigating factor which one has to feel some sympathy for the blighted boys in orange. The lack of any decisive action by any of the extra officials who take up their position behind the goal line is baffling. There were two penalty shouts for handball against the Danes in either half but there was not a peep out of any of the additional officials whose primary role is to help the referee with incidents in and around the penalty area.

Indeed that is their only task yet I am struggling to think of a single decision made by one of the fourth/ fifth officials in last night's match,  or actually any match in which they have been involved. Referees never seem to consult with them even if an incident is "on their patch" and one has to question exactly what they are doing there. So without any clear intervention in decision-making maybe their role is to act as top grade ball boys with one of the best views in the stadium and not a care in the world. With goal-line technology not too far away, there will be even less justification for them, but I am sure that in their infinite wisdom UEFA and FIFA will be upholding the right to have them installed for all major tournaments.

Fans stay away from Ukraine/ Poland

It is not just UK Ministers who are shunning the delights of Krakow and Kiev. It comes as no great surprise that the numbers of England fans going to Euro 2012 are drastically reduced from previous tournaments. Less than 10,000 are expected to follow the national team compared to over 100,000 who travelled to Germany for the World Cup six years ago. Firstly, there is a remarkably low level of expectation on how the team will perform coupled with a squad which has suffered from a variety of withdrawals, so not even the usually myopic optimism of English fans can mask the truth that the team that will struggle to get past the group stage. Furthermore, Eastern Europe may have many hidden gems but most football fans are not on a voyage of discovery, more a journey of hope and the unfamiliar surroundings will have had a negative impact on the lure of Lviv or the delights of Donetsk. So even before the unedifying spectacle of overt racism which was uncovered by the recent Panorama programme, there was never going to be much in the way of travelling support. The disgraceful scenes of both Polish and Ukrainian fans revelling in racist chanting would have deterred anyone thinking of making a last minute dash. Finally the harsh economic climate may have dissuaded many thousands from travelling abroad and spending time in hotels where prices have been jacked up by people aiming to exploit the expected influx of Westerners, especially as the standard of hospitality may be variable, if not disappointing. So with all those conditions it will probably be one of the friendliest, the most good-natured of tournaments and no doubt be topped off with a resounding English success. Remember where you read this first.

Lamps out = Lights out?

So Frank Lampard, stalwart of Chelsea and England, is out of the Euro 2012 tournament. There has been the predictable wailing and gnashing of teeth in the English media about how this will affect England's chances this summer and how this is a mortal blow to Roy Hodgson's team. "Lamps out, lights out" perhaps. Whilst we will all have sympathy for Lampard as this is likely to be the last chance for him to play in a major tournament for England, it is not too devastating a blow to England performing creditably in Ukraine and Poland. Clearly, Lampard has been an extremely successful player at club level, achieving the accolade of being the first midfielder to score 150 goals in the Premiership in April this year, but his record at international level is nothing to crow about and he has never really shone for England since making his debut in 1999. He is part of the 'golden generation' of English players, which include Gerrard, Ferdinand and Terry, who have flattered to deceive and it has been detrimental to England's chances to imagine that this group of players would deliver on all their promise and potential. They have not and will not. There has been a pressing need to inject some fresh blood into this squad for several years now and the passing of the "old guard" should be accelerated to allow younger players the opportunity to gain worthwhile experience during tournaments. It is personally tough for Lampard but he and his peers have had their chance and it is now time to leave the stage gracefully and allow the understudies the chance to shine. So Lamps is indeed out but let's usher some leading lights in.

Free the Pakistan Three

When I heard that the three Pakistani cricketers involved in the betting scandal had received custodial sentences I was shocked and actually thought that whoever it was told me must have been mistaken. Then when it was confirmed that all three had indeed been given prison sentences, I felt a shiver of indignation as disbelief was swiftly replaced by a sense of shock.

My immediate thoughts went to the youngest of the trio, Mohammad Amir who was was only 18 when the "crime" was committed and is now facing time in Feltham young offenders institution, which by all accounts is one of the harshest and most brutal of all UK penitentiaries. Surely anyone with any sense will feel this judgement is disproportionate to the offence. Amir is a teenager playing in a foreign country and has probably been encouraged by Salman Butt the captain of the team and another senior player, Mohammad Asif, to become involved in bowling deliberate no-balls.

How many of us, as teenagers, did things we knew were wrong but still went ahead and did them under peer pressure? If your answer to that question is "Not Me" I suggest you are a liar. But this was not peer pressure this was coming from on high, from the man who was issuing orders to all the players, both experienced and inexperienced. And for this, Amir is going to be incarcerated in a place which a BBC Panorama investigation described as "At Feltham in the last year there has been a murder, a teenager has hanged himself, and there have been numerous attempted hangings. Steve Bradshaw reports on the conditions that have created a culture of violence and self-harm at the notorious prison for young offenders."

Then I started to consider what these cricketers had actually done wrong and from the judge's summing-up it suddenly became clear that this was a case much more worrying in its severity and cack-handedness than I initially thought. To quote the judge's summing up "'It's not cricket' was an adage. It is the insidious effect of your actions on professional cricket and the followers of it that make the offences so serious."

More serious than criminal assault or fraud?

The summing up continues "The image and integrity of what was once a game but is now a business is damaged in the eyes of all, including the many youngsters who regarded you as heroes and would have given their eye teeth to play at the levels and with the skills that you had."

This is the most revealing statement, as the judge reveals the rationale behind these harsh sentences is that the age of innocence has been lost and cricket has become a business. Poppycock. The next time this judge is at Lords enjoying his lunch and hospitality, maybe he can spare a thought for the young men who are suffering the degradation and long-term damage of prison life. All this was revealed by that scion of moral fortitude The News of the World. Irony anyone?

Finally just consider the outrage if this had happened in Pakistan and three English cricketers had been found guilty of match-fixing and had consequently been imprisoned in Pakistan.

Phoenix to Ashes

So it has finally come to pass, after a handful of ritual hammerings and humiliations over the last two decades England have stood up to the Aussies and retained the Ashes in Melbourne.

This is a considerable achievement considering the recent past and especially the last tour which ended in a whitewash of such epic proportions that it was surprising that Russell Crowe wasn't considered for selection as trouncing followed annihilation. England weren't just beaten they were pulverised, with nothing more painful than the Adelaide test when Flintoff (remember him) declared and we still lost by 6 wickets. This current side are not necessarily world beaters but there is no way that they would have allowed such a dominant position to slip away.

The crucial issue is whether the balance has swung England's way because of their excellence or is it down to Australian weakness. It is surely more the latter as most Australian batsmen have failed, with captain and vice-captain most culpable. Only Hussey has really made a positive contribution and his failure at Melbourne paved the way for England's big victory. The bowlers have hardly covered themselves in glory with only Siddle showing anything approaching consistency and he is not exactly Glenn McGrath.

England are a solid unit and their strength in depth showed when Broad was injured but his replacement, Tremlett was amongst the wickets and continued to make inroads into the soft underbelly of Australian batting. Also Bresnan proved to be more than up to the job when replacing the dangerous yet profligate Finn and taking crucial wickets in the fourth test.

So is this the dawning of a new era or just a temporary switch in fortune? Somehow I cannot see there being another quarter century before Australia start to dominate again, so we might as well revel in the glory before the phoenix rises from the Ashes.

England's dismal, but inevitable, failure

Of course, we have all been here so many times before that it should not be a shock or a surprise. The England team enter a major football tournament with hopes of reaching the latter stages and we even dare to think that it could be 1966 again but deep down we know that is unrealistic and we will settle for a heroic failure in the Quarter-Finals.

But 2010 episode of this long-running saga was a horror show. England left at the last sixteen stage after one of the limpest concessions ever see. Forget Lampard's "phantom" goal, which could well have swung the balance in England's favour for a while but can you really imagine this team managing to seize control of a game, especially against a German side who showed how togetherness and skill can be natural bedfellows, whereas England seem to think that these two attributes are mutually exclusive. Mind you, one in isolation would have been good. Capello's team in South Africa were disjointed, untogether (there are a variety of stories circulating about friction in the camp but regardless of true cause, they never showed any unity or sense of purpose) and prone to costly mistakes.

The little Englanders will point to the foreign coach and nod sagely that this will never work until we get an Englishman, preferably with St. George tattooed on his chest, back at the helm. It has to be admitted that Capello made some errors, (he was in good company) but the root of our problems lie far deeper than the nationality of the coach. The coaching system in this country is a shambles - there are plenty of people going through various FA Coaching levels but they are being taught the same old system by the same old coaches. Having been through Level 1 and known a few who have progressed further it is abundantly clear that the English coaching system is flawed as it is one dimensional, unimaginative and ultimately not likely to produce good enough coaches at the top.

We need to take a root and branch approach to the whole area of coaching. Be brave, be bold. Rip it up and start again. But this will not happen as there are too many vested interests involved. The FA has never been a forward-looking organisation and one cannot imagine they are going to start now. To rid ourselves of all the conservative traditions and staid people who are holding English football back, will require a strong person who has the requisite vision and tenacity. A figure such as Henry V or Churchill. At least they were English.

Welcome to the Well Hung Parliament

So after all the shenanigans and horse trading since the inconclusive election result lo and behold we have a coalition government, the first working coalition for seven decades. So what are our hopes? The doom mongers will bleat about the impracticalities of such an arrangement and it is quite impressive that they can remember what happened just before the Second World War.

It will fall apart in days, the mainstream media gloat and having already had their hatchets sharpened for months they are now ready for some serious damage. But wait should we not give this idea a chance? The majority of the population have become disillusioned by the grubby nature of politics. The expenses scandal was the tip of the iceberg and revealed an arrogant, money-grabbing attitude that prevails at Westminster. Respect for politicians and the political machine was at an all time low and the young generation seemed to have turned their back on the whole farrago. Apathy and antipathy were rife.

However, this election galvanised the nation, inspired by the TV debates people got more involved and the turnout increased which is a clear sign that more people have become engaged. The disaster of voters being turned away from the polls at least showed that they cared and however frustrating, those incidents highlighted a shift in public opinion to want to exercise their vote.

And now we have the Cameron-Clegg coalition and I hold out some hope that this may be the new way that we were all demanding for our democracy. The Conservatives have had to listen to the Liberal Democrats, include them in the cabinet and surely the balance between the two parties might actually lead to better, more considered policies rather than having an agenda forced upon us by a clear majority.

Politics is a dirty game and will not become clean overnight but there is at least a change of the old guard and we can all hope that the new model brings a fresh approach, rekindles our faith in Westminster and keeps the MPs on their toes.

Media hypocrites round on John Terry

The level of hypocrisy that surrounds the moral storm swirling over John Terry’s head has reached an all time high. When the minister for sport Gerry Sutcliffe called for Terry’s removal as England captain one had to blink twice at the sheer audacity of an MP lecturing a footballer about morality.

It has got nothing to do with his ability to lead England at the World Cup in South Africa but according to Sutcliffe he needs to lead by example. MPs show everyone how to behave by acting with such impropriety, it makes your eyes water. The expenses scandal of last year which exposed a huge swathe of ridiculous and unjustifiable claims is not exactly a model of how to run a clean and fair democratic system.

Then of course we have those fine upholders of truth and decency the newspapers who have hounded Terry over his obligation to resign after this dastardly and despicable act. It is a truth universally acknowledged that not one brave reporter or fine, upstanding newspaper executive has ever cheated on his wife. And then there was Gary Lineker making snide comments on Match of The Day about Terry “playing away” when his own fidelity record is not exactly pure as the driven snow.

These boys know how to conduct themselves alright and that Terry is a cad. Indeed they are so convinced of the moral high ground that they have been waving hundreds of thousands of pounds to get his mistress to tell the unvarnished truth. Thank God for the fearless journalists who are so nobly bringing the truth to a front page near you.

Nobody can defend the central defender’s actions and it must be heart-rending for the victims in this imbroglio, Wayne Bridge and Mrs T. It must be especially hard to accept as this is being splashed across the pages of newspapers up and down the country but the truth must out.

It would seem hard to outdo the cant that so many have been involved with but someone got pretty close on the 5 Live 606 phone-in on Saturday night. A Liverpool fan phoned to register her moral outrage at the actions of the English captain. The very minimum that was required, she argued, was that Terry should not be able to wear the captain’s armband for his country ever again.

So this harpie must have thought that when her beloved club captain Stephen Gerrard was seen on cctv punching a man repeatedly in the face, that this was conduct acceptable in a man of authority. True, Gerrard was acquitted but the evidence of the assault was still there for all to see and the legal niceties of provocation and circumstance do not disguise a cowardly and vicious assault.

Clearly, in this woman’s eyes, it is just fine and dandy compared to a spot of infidelity. The concern is that so many people side with her and the country’s moral compass is spinning wildly out of control. What is worst is the attitude of the media and the establishment.

Eagles' ruffled feathers

It’s at times like these that I really regret our nickname. For subeditors it’s a heaven sent gift to be able to indulge in endless wordplay with Eagles, if it’s not “feathers ruffled” it’s “falls prey” and there’s always the classic “not so golden”. Those subs have been honing their fine art for a few months now as, after a succession of missed or late payments to the players, there was an inevitability over disappearing down the administration plughole.

Indeed the writing has been on the wall for a lot longer, when Simon “Tango skin” Jordan announced he wanted to get out of the club over a year ago, the only place we were heading to was the accountants’ offices, not the Premiership. Being a fan who fears the worst earlier in the season I had taken to deducting 10 points from our total and seeing where it left us in the table. Then I stupidly, naively stopped this practice as 2010 came along, thinking we’ve managed to sail through those choppy waters and now had arrived in a calmer environment.

So when my wife turned to me in the car and asked gravely whether I had been listening to the news recently, I feared another humanitarian disaster or some terrible terrorist act. Her sombre tones hung menacingly. “It’s Palace and it’s bad...” she tailed off but she did not need to go any further as I knew our fate at once. A ten point deduction was all that revolved around my aching brain and I returned to a mental calculation of the Championship table and saw us hovering just above the Plimsoll line.

It is quite a weird experience living in the post points docking world or PPD as it’s better known. Because suddenly, the teams you were worried about nicking the play-off place from their rightful owners are now over the hill and far away, and the radar has to be reset to the strugglers’ end of the table. So rather than fretting about Blackpool’s surge up the table, overnight that has become irrelevant and now Sheffield Wednesday’s renaissance is in the crosshairs.

But I managed to console myself that at least the timing of this draconian measure was ok. How much better it is to take it on the chin mid-season when you have a) a points tally to deduct from and b) there is time left in the season to repair some of the damage. So rather than face the start of the season playing catch-up or be docked at the end where there is no room for manoeuvre, we now just have a mountain to climb wearing slippers and a flimsy t-shirt. Brilliant.

To make matters worse if that is possible, I have been successfully luring my 8 year-old son into the ways of Selhurst Park. He knows that it’s a rollercoaster ride and there are bad days and then slightly less bad days but when I tried to explain to him the concept of administration and the finer points of the accountancy art (which to be fair is a slightly dark and mysterious one to me) he started to wince. Then when I had finished my meandering drivel on our financial and league position impoverishment, he looked at me wisely and summed it up in a few succinct words. “So we lost then.” I couldn’t have put it better myself and I tried.

Man United top, but for how long?

So after disposing of Hull 4-0, Manchester United stand top of the Premiership as of late January. Plus ca change. Well actually, this may not be the normal order being restored, but more of a false dawn. Cracks are appearing in the edifice that Fergie has built and it would take a myopic fool to ignore the evidence. All the facts suggests that Man United are on the wane and the only way is down.

Is this the moment we have all been waiting for? Ferguson’s reign of pugilistic pestilence is beginning to unravel. After all we have been waiting for this epoch for many years now. Man United’s bubble is finally, after two decades of success, about to burst. The aura of invincibility has begun to show serious signs of stress. It could hardly be a more opportune moment to revel in the demise of the great leviathan of English club football. It has been a period of unparalleled dominance but one feels it is coming to an end, and coming soon.

Firstly, there are the financial shenanigans, which are plaguing even the biggest club in the world. The Glazers issuing of a £500 million bond looks like papering over some of the cracks but the debts are mounting despite increasing turnover. The major problem is the wage bil, which rose from £92m in 2007 to £123m in 2009, and there are fewer players on the roster so the actual increases are staggering in the harshest economic times. The air is thick with grumbling and dissension as fans express their disillusionment with the way the club is being run (into the ground?).

If the finances are in a mess then the playing side is not exactly rosy. Good players have left and not been adequately replaced. Between them, Ronaldo and Tevez contributed 87 goals in the previous two seasons, one can hardly imagine Valencia and Obertan replicating this and at the midpoint of current season they had amassed 5 goals. Berbatov is a classy forward but is becoming better known for his surliness than his silky skills.

But it’s not just the exits and entries that are causing concern in the corridors of Old Trafford, the squad is looking increasingly old and frangible. Giggs, Neville, Scholes are no spring chickens despite Giggs’ remarkable fitness there is only so much time left on those body clocks. Ferguson is struggling to replace them and more crucially there is no clear successor to Van Der Sar as neither Foster nor Kuszczak are budding Schmeichels.

There is depth to the squad but injuries to key players have undermined the quality – O’Shea, Ferdinand, Hargreaves (remember him) – have played fewer games than would be expected. There is an over-reliance on Rooney who is consistently brilliant as exemplified by his scoring all 4 against Hull. But he is not Atlas and cannot carry the rest of them on his admittedly broad shoulders. He looked exasperated during the Carling Cup semi final defeat at Eastlands and no wonder. Like England there will be a wailing and gnashing of teeth if he sustains any injury.

We have been here before and Ferguson, the master alchemist, usually pulls a string of rabbits out of his bobble hat. But the traditional January surge is not powering up and their sloppy Cup performances are maybe an indication that the good ship Fergie is listing. His recent admission that he is losing patience with some of his players is a rare and perhaps revealing insight into the travails at Old Trafford.

Snickgate

In its relatively short life the review system has attracted a fair amount of controversy. With a few “no ball” dismissals missed here and there the pressure on the TV umpire has ratcheted up. And unfortunately, Darryl Harper has proved to be not up to the job. Having being moved out of the firing line after a poor on-field performance in the Third Test, he is now in the cross hairs of England’s ire.

In general I am a supporter of the system as if it works well it irons out any errors. However, it’s a bit more difficult to approve if it then commits further errors. Other major problems are that it firstly can undermine the on-field umpire’s authority and also teams can use it as a measure of desperation.

Hapless Harper has managed to make a right old horlicks of this in the Fourth test. How the ICC had the temerity to defend Harper’s Howler for not picking up the snick of Graeme Smith’s bat is one of those denials of spin that A. Campbell would have been proud. Forget who turned the volume up or down, it is an error and there should be a hand or two held up in acceptance of getting a decision wrong. But no, it was knocked back like a Boycott dead bat.

The irony is that they are rightly using technology to help make the right decisions but do not have the full kit e.g. hot spot, snickometer. The lack of important equipment is justified by the cost but that is pretty feeble. The mistakes made create ill feeling and take away from what has been a wonderfully topsy turvy series.

If as looks likely (at lunch on Day Three), England lose the game they will bemoan their luck and rail against the unfairness of the system rather than reflect on their inept batting performance in the first innings which will be the crucial factor.

The ICC have got themselves into a proper pickle as mistakes are being made with the review system. Someone needs to take responsibility but this is the ICC and that is never going to happen. After all the ICC stands for Incompetent, Clueless Clowns.

Bush Fire

I always was under the impression that QPR stood for Queens Park Rangers but now I realise I was misguided, as it really means Quick Personnel Rotation.

One has to wonder what is next up on the Shepherds Bush merry-go-round. A tally of six (nine if you include caretakers) managers in the space of a few years makes Man City look like the model of stability and conservatism.

Chairman Flavio Briatore is not just content to be an arch exponent of revolving door recruitment but he is now bringing in some spectacularly new and exciting ways of jettisoning managers. Take the unique Jim Magilton school of departure. He pioneered the “Beat the living daylights out of one of your better players in the dressing rooms at Vicarage Road” style. An absolute classic.

Paul Hart has mastered the “I haven’t been in charge of the club for five minutes (well to be precise five matches Paul) and they get shot of me” shock to the system farewell. Followed by the original and never to be repeated “I wish I had stayed at Portsmouth” line.

Let us not forget, this is the same club that a few years ago pre- Briatore, a director, Gianni Paladini had a falling out with a major shareholder, David Morris. Mr. Morris then took the only sensible option left by getting a gang of “associates” to pull a gun on said director. Although it wasn’t that sensible as he took his action on a matchday when there were approximately 250 policemen in the vicinity.

One wonders who is next in line for the vacant manager’s seat, how long they might last and perhaps most intriguingly what novel twist in leaving Loftus Road Signior Briatore will conjure up this time round. Whatever happens it will be worth watching. QPR aka Quite Pathetic Really.

Hicks Tricks Ricks

Hicks Junior was clearly absent when the customer care seminar was held at Anfield. If he had been there he might have picked up a couple of do’s and dont’s. In the latter category calling a supporter fuckface would have been fairly high up the list. He also must have missed the bit about “the customer is always right” and treat everyone with due respect.

The Hicks family were not exactly flavour of the month on Merseyside beforehand and young Hicks has not helped their cause. One can only shiver at the reaction of a Shankly or Paisley to such crass insensitivity, stupidity, idiocy. Such a situation would have been inconceivable a few decades when football club board members were at best anonymous, and only the chairman had any visibility.

So the new world order in English football sees more and more high profile foreign raiders muscling in on a game that used to be the preserve of the working class fans and middle class owners. Only Randy Lerner, the wonderfully named but low key, Aston Villa chairman has managed to make a positive impact compared to the debt-guzzling Glazers or the ham-fisted Hicks.

But in the end does it really matter who owns our club? Of course ownership doesn’t matter per se but as finances play an increasingly bigger part in the running of the clubs, then the liquidity and leverage quotients do begin to creep into pre-match chat in the pubs around Fratton Park and beyond.

So now we have reached the point where balance sheets mean more than clean sheets then maybe it’s time, as Hicks Jnr PR might have put it, to tell football “to go to hell”.

England's Great Escape - Part Two

It certainly makes for an exciting and dramatic diversion from the bleak midwinter we are currently enduring, but if I have to listen to any more last wicket heroics from G. Onions & Co. I’m not sure that my heart will be able to withstand the pressure. The euphoria of relief in England’s hairy escapology in the First and Third Tests against South Africa outweighs the pleasure in the convincing innings victory in Durban.

The crucial element in any sporting delight is the joy of the unexpected and when the result is not known until the last possible moment. However laudable and merited the Second Test win proved to be, the game had none of the excruciating tension of the drawn matches when serenity gave way to danger and potential failure with such alacrity that a loss seemed inevitable on both occasions. It is the strange and perverse nature of sport that the pleasure derived from two draws outweighs that of a convincing victory.

But none of the tense heroics of the late order batsmen or the stoic partnership of Bell and Collingwood would have been required if one of the top order batsman had not failed so dismally at Cape Town. Kevin Pietersen is quickly becoming a liability to this England team with his show pony (or should that be stallion) antics; his disregard of the team’s cause is at odds with his teammates. He is undoubtedly one of the most talented players in the world and can dominate any bowling attack when well established.

At the moment he is being picked solely on reputation and certainly not on form nor spirit as his contribution to the team in this series has been negligible. Maybe he is in the side to attract the flak of the South African public for whom he acts as a pantomime villain, and this then allows the other players to hide in relative anonymity behind his huge frame. Looking at the stats for the Cape Town test Pietersen lasted a grand total of 24 balls and amassed 6 runs. When what was required was crease occupation and accumulation he achieved neither.

He was the worst performing of all the top order batsman on either side in terms of number of balls faced (24), runs scored (6) and average (3) over this test. In fact he was the worst performing batsman in all of these categories for the whole England side apart from one area – Onions faced only 20 balls but the big difference was the No.11 was not dismissed in either innings, showing admirable grit and application.

So if the final test match in Johannesburg goes to the wire I know who I would want to be at the crease if the game needs saving and we need the right mixture of character, spirit and determination and his name is not Kevin Pietersen. Would the selectors dare to drop him? It’s highly unlikely but would be justified but that doesn’t mean it will happen. Maybe he is being used as a screen for Broad’s fancy footwork or Anderson’s ham-fisted handiwork.