Suspicious Minds

Last week was a suspicious sort of week. WikiLeaks are still making all the headlines since then, causing foreign secretaries and ministers to book twice the number of flights they usually embark on to allay the suspicions of their foreign colleagues and / or 'allies'. And if that weren’t fishy enough, the World Cup bidding process held last week in Zurich to determine the host nations in 2018 and 2022 raised eyebrows worldwide, and left many with more questions than answers. The Anglo trio (for want of a better collective term) of the USA, England and Australia were left with egg on their faces because of that hoary old party pooper of Russia that went on to secure WC18, not to mention a miniscule upstart from their favourite stomping ground of the Middle East. 

The plucky little Asian state of Qatar had the gall to trounce the USA in a second bout of voting for WC22 after shrugging off the Aussie threat in the first round. This outcome was diplomatically referred to by US President Barack Obama as ‘a mistake’, which would surely have gone down as smooth as crude in the Middle East.

Personally speaking, I live in Sydney, Australia, and of course I also ‘cracked a sad’, albeit a fleeting one since I cannot wait for Oprah Winfrey to finally get here (yeah right). As I was telling my friend Martin when we grabbed a train from Wynyard to Central, ‘it’s a shame we didn’t get the world cup because it might finally have earned Sydney a 24 hour airport and a metro.’ Now instead all we’ll get is a big violet O on the Sydney Harbour bridge, to celebrate the arrival of America’s richest entertainer.

Successful bids

But if you think I’m upset, I’m not a patch of rage on the Anglo bidding teams whose public expressions of disbelief soon spiralled into ones of to outrage, faster than you can say ‘that half pint of Carlos Tevez is wearing a snood again!’ Their journalists are laying into FIFA with a frenzy that is only matched by the daily exposure given to latest whistleblowing pin-up boy Julian Assange.

After our train ride Martin and I had coffee at his place and watched the various bid presentations on YouTube (it's enough of an ordeal trying to keep up with live world football in this part of the world, so the bidding process was given a miss - prince charming or no prince charming).

To be honest, although Russia’s bid presentation looked like an extension of the little clip that usually precedes their 80s retro style Eurovision song contest offerings, the one presented by Qatar was impressively slick and, in my reckoning, the best by a mile. Martin was of a shared opinion, his made more relevant by his extensive career in creative design in the cutthroat world of advertising. 

Qatar certainly managed to make their weaknesses look like strengths, their presentation so futuristic that they would’ve made you believe that they could host the whole thing on the moon (they’ve probably got enough oil and gas to pull that off too if they wanted), let alone in the middle of the desert. 

 

 

 

 

They were also very shrewd when it came to displaying a globe that showed the number of people in different countries who would be able to access the games during the normal hours of the day, from which they conveniently, albeit justifiably, excluded the countries in Oceania region e.g. Australia. And how cool was the Qatari’s plan to disassemble stadia which are to be built for the WC22 and re-construct them in developing countries?! Unreal, if it can be pulled off. 

Doubtless there’s been no end of back-scratching going on behind the scenes and the Qatari born Asian Football Confederation President Mohammed Bin Hammam must have good old backscratch with half-pint FIFA President Sepp Blatter, but hey, were we really expecting anything different from the workings of a global institution? Movie studios buy the Oscars every year and the Lord alone knows what goes on behind the scenes whenever a Pope is elected (although He is said to elect him).  

But there are other questions that this whole charade of choosing two world cups threw up which many haven’t yet found an answer for. First of which being: why on earth should national associations be made to throw away all this money to launch a bid to bring home the world cup? 

Shouldn’t the 'faceless' FIFA delegates draw up a strategic shortlist of willing nations (let’s face it, who wouldn’t want to host it?) that they think should organise the world cup on the basis of growing the game internationally and assign it to the best candidate for the job? All this bidding process does is pave the way for large gifts and bribes to the FIFA delegates. 

National associations worldwide should just pull out and let FIFA come to them instead of parading their princes, presidents and other stars (ok we’ll make one exception for Elle Macpherson) before the FIFA delegates before returning home empty-handed. If nothing else, it will curb the resentment and suspicion that inevitably follows the bidding process and give the English Premier League (EPL) one less arrow to aim at FIFA’s behind.

Unsuccessful bids

There’s also other questions that can be picked out of the wreckage of the triple Anglo failed bid (for the sake of the blissfully unaware who might still be reading this: England lost out on WC18, US and Australia on WC22). 

Let’s start with England’s bid team. Did they seriously think that parading so many foreign stars from the EPL (often perceived by FIFA and UEFA as the arch-enemy of grass roots development) in their presentation was going to endear them to the FIFA delegates? If England is the home of football, why show off so many foreign stars? 

Would it not have been better to get street kids from council estates to declare how much having football ‘come back home’ would mean to them (besides a return flight to Zurich)? And did the English bid team seriously think that parading their Prince and Prime Minister was going to press any post-colonial romance buttons? With all due respect, what do the Royal Family and David Beckham (still a great English footballer, albeit one of few who does not play in England, the proclaimed home of football) represent to the rest of the world except past glories? 

 

Perhaps one of the mistakes made by the English bid team was that they failed to realise that the world today is not what was sixty years ago, no matter how much you swan about Zurich with a big winning smile on your face and speak of confidence. 

And as for the Yanks, did they seriously think they were going to get a world cup so soon after having hosted the event in 1994? Especially after going through such lengths in their presentation to explain how far their domestic league has come in recent years since USA94? And how easy was it to believe Landon Donovan’s claims that the US is a great footballing destination when he’s been pining for a move away from the MLS throughout the course of the last season? 

Which is not to mention Morgan Freeman apologising for missing a page when he read his speech to FIFA (for the love of Pete, surely an Academy award winning actor can recite his speech? Especially if he’s being paid real do$h to do so?)

So for all their bells and whistles, the English and American bids appeared more like namedropping exercises rather than a delivery about what preparations they would undergo to stage the tournament itself – which is what Qatar focused on. The Anglos failed to come out with new compelling concepts, instead choosing to present their countries as being multinational states (is that not true of most developed countries these days?), with a clutch of fading stars parading the old myths of them being ‘lands of diversity and opportunity’. 

To be honest, if I were a delegate, I would have felt patronised and pandered to with my intelligence insulted. In fact after the bidding process was over, some delegates referred to the arrogance of the English bid which shows that if the English FA didn’t have many friends to begin with in FIFA, they might have a few less now.

The failure of Australia certainly hurt the most. Which is not to mention the Aussie bid team’s slogan of ‘Come Play’, certainly the worst and blandest logo in the history of bids by aspiring host nations. Couldn’t they have added ‘mate’ and turned the tagline into ‘Come Play Mate’? Ok it might appear dodgier than wearing a snood, but at least it adds a bit of distinctive national flavour? Doesn’t it? There you go, even I came up with better, and I’m not even paid for it!

But joking apart, the Aussies should have taken a leaf out of Qatar’s book and focused more on turning the country's weaknesses into strengths. They could have grabbed their splendid isolation and used it to project a country that is unique, different from anywhere else - a fascinating place beyond your imagination which the world cup would give you an excuse to visit. What did the tram station and a wizened bikey version of Crocodile Dundee have to do with that? You can see all of that jazz anywhere! 

 

 

They might have sold this country better by presenting it as a more exotic, off this planet paradise containing cheerful, colourful loons like me! But I suspect the bid team's efforts backfired when they tried to show that Australia has got beaches, top restaurants and cities like everyone else and more mystery should have been employed. In fact Qatar didn’t show all of their hand, give or take some 80s style moustaches among their bidding team.

In any case, the Australian representatives should not be too hard for themselves, although one vote out of twenty-two was an incredible result. Did Frank Lowy and co. truly believe that FIFA would lightly sacrifice the sleep of hundreds of millions all because of little more than circa 26 million people? (and that’s the population of NZ included). Ok by 2022 the combined populations of Australia and NZ might regrettably go up to 30 million, given the present world crisis of overpopulation, but it was always going to be a long shot to bring the World Cup down under, and one which may take another generation to achieve.

Conclusions

In any case, the selection process employed by FIFA should certainly have taught the world governing body two lessons, although I’m not sure both shall be observed. The first was that FIFA should really just select countries based on the agenda of world football. It is of no use having the USA, Australia and England staging costly bids and offering better infrastructures when you suspect all along that the tournament is going to be awarded to a new land. This should serve to eliminate bribing and curb the growing ill will towards FIFA. 

The second lesson, that FIFA has proclaimed to have already learnt, is that there should never again be bids accepted for two different tournaments. It only serves to increase the number of disaffected parties, which in turn allows powerbrokers to turn the screw on FIFA and increase backroom deals and the reported corruption among FIFA delegates. In fact a friend of mine recently suggested that it might be an idea for FIFA to select willing countries further in advance without all the fuss and furore of a bidding process so that the host nation would have more time in which to prepare for the tournament.

As for the Anglos’ accusations of other bidding teams ‘buying votes’, I am not sure that it is very dignified after voting is concluded to point fingers and behave like sore losers. Especially if you profess that you knew all along that buying votes was part of the game but refused to do it, because it risks making you look even more inept rather than holy. The USA, England and Australia should take a leaf out of the book of Spain, Portugal, Holland, Belgium etc. and retire with good grace instead of crying foul. 

However it looks like the Anglo trio are intent on persisting with flinging all kinds of accusations at FIFA. And the EPL is already sharpening its knives to make the most out of the general discontent surrounding the world governing body. This week Wigan chairman Noel Whelan made incredibly off the wall remarks when proclaiming that the EPL should turn on FIFA after the embarrassment suffered by England (erm didn’t other countries also table unsuccessful bids?) and refuse to allow their stars to play international football if FIFA refuses to compensate clubs for injuries to their stars sustained during international games. 

What’s worse is that this rallying cry seems to be gathering impetus across England who also have fellow sore losers in the USA and Australia with whom to munch sour grapes. The discontentment in the latter two nations is probably of greater concern to FIFA, given that they are both new world countries where football is still competing with other sports to become the number one domestic game. 

Perhaps FIFA President Sepp Blatter had best go on a charm offensive to claw back these disgruntled nations. By putting on one of his many forced smiles, he could further stun the Anglo world by donning the gown and crown, and after sauntering onto a stage and shaking his pelvis, sing (with curled lower lip) in his most crooning, baritone voice:

We're caught in a trap

I can't walk out

Because I love you too much baby

Why can't you see

What you're doing to me

When you don't believe a word I say?

We can't go on together

With suspicious minds

And we can't build our dreams

On suspicious minds 

So, if an old friend I know

Drops by to say hello

Would I still see suspicion in your eyes? 

Here we go again

Asking where I've been

You can't see these tears are real

I'm crying 

We can't go on together

With suspicious minds

And we can't build our dreams

On suspicious minds 

Oh let our love survive

Or dry the tears from your eyes

Let's don't let a good thing die 

When honey, you know

I've never lied to you

Mmm yeah, yeah

 

Indisposable Heroes

 

 

One thing society must guard against is discrimination. And one form of discrimination which seems to be snowballing is ageism. Admittedly some old people, if not adaptable to new and positive trends, can end up ruining things or outstaying their welcome. But most of them are gems and more of a balance needs to be struck. We live in a consumer culture of use and discard, where the general mindset is: what’s useful today cannot surely be relevant tomorrow. And although the Roman empire has long collapsed, the mob still bays for the blood of fallen heroes. Nowhere is this more apparent than in football, the quintessence of popular culture and eternal metaphor of life.

Last week history was made when Tottenham Hotspur finally beat Arsenal away after seventeen years. It was a historic victory and one which proved the value of older players. Arsenal did not have one player on the pitch over thirty years old, yet the player named man of the match was Tottenham’s William Gallas, a 33 year old French defender who was discarded by Arsenal before this season even started. To add salt to the wound of Arsenal’s defeat, Gallas was also made captain by Spurs coach Harry Redknapp before the game. After Tottenham’s incredible win a number of younger Spurs players like Jenas and Kaboul stressed the importance of having Gallas in the side, whose leadership qualities helped Spurs to turn their two nil deficit into a 3-2 win.

This is not to say that Arsenal coach Arsene Wenger got his just desserts for ditching Gallas. The latter is known to be a vocal character and his public outbursts at Arsenal could not have been helping Wenger’s plans. Yet although youth must have its fling, it is hard to win big matches with kids alone. Ferguson is constantly heralded as being the guy who ‘won it with the kids’ in the 95-96 season when Beckham, Giggs, Scholes etc. burst onto the scene. Yet many forget that that side was also studded with grizzled senior players like Steve Bruce, Gary Pallister, David May and Denis Irwin. Wenger seems reluctant to pay large fees to keep hold of senior players, yet although he is to be admired for the youngsters he unearths and bloods, the Arsenal coach must be fast realising that experience and maturity also possess market value.

It certainly cannot be excluded that wily old fox Wenger will mastermind a turnaround but, technically gifted as his latest Gunners side is, there seems to be something lacking with his squad. And it’s not technique or potential. We’re talking wise ol’ heads. That’s right, the over 30s veteran that barks at the boys to get stuck in, who can read the way the game is going and lead by example when putting in a few ‘Chopper Harris’ tackles or engaging in some dirty old Billy Bremner gamesmanship. All this is crucial to a winning side. An idealist is one who thinks roses make better soup than cabbages because they smell better and it appears Wenger is falling into this trap. He should recall that his Invincibles record-breaking side that ran away with the Prem in 03/04 featured veterans like Martin Keown, Sol Campbell and Ray Parlour.

Every team needs a balance of veterans and young starlets. Just ask great Scot Sir Alex Ferguson, who still unleashes his trusted pint-sized ginger ninja Paul Scholes to rip heads off opponents when things get sticky. He’s a piece of work that Scholes, at times putting his former midfield mate Keano to shame, and if he were thrown into a fridge with a rabid lioness, I’m not sure what bets I’d place on the feline surviving. Which is not to mention the value of the evergreen Ryan Giggs, albeit a balder and gaunter prospect than the fresh-faced pin-up boy of yore, but still a seasoned trickster along the wing or nipping in behind the striker. And there can be little doubt that if Beckham had followed the Ferguson code of shunning the limelight, he would still be gracing the right wing at Manchester United.
 

 

And on that note, what a force of nature is David Beckham. Long after people have claimed that he’s done and dusted, to the point that you imagine him possessing intricate varicose veins and hobbling around with a cane, the man returns from injury time and again, managing to play high octane games in the US and Europe whilst also managing the odd friendly in Australia.  This week he’s readying to face Newcastle United downunder after shaking off a knock. He is an incredible ambassador of the game and always bursting to play for his country, when he never gives less than 100 per cent. He’s a breath of fresh air and a far cry from the increasing number of young players that abandon their national side due to rejection or for no reason at all.

Which is not to mention some of Beckham’s Italian contemporaries, two of whom ruled Juventus in the days when Becks fuelled Manchester United’s forays into the European Champions League. Indeed at 36 Alex Del Piero is still an integral part of Juventus, even scoring a brilliant winner against deadly rivals AC Milan this season. Which is not to mention Del Piero’s former team-mate Filippo Inzaghi with whom Del Piero formed such a successful and unlikely little and little (meant to be little and large) striking partnership at Juve before Inzaghi moved to AC Milan, where this season he broke Gerd Mueller’s record in the European Champions League and would probably be extending it had injury not cut him short. Despite this latest setback there can be little doubt that Superpippo will be back next year to continue his goalscoring exploits, although he would by then be 38.

The duo's exploits might have also stirred their former Juventus team-mate Edgar Davids, at 37, to come out of retirement this year. He was certainly deemed fit enough to be offered a stint at Championship side Crystal Palace. Although he went on to quit early, It appears his attitude with his new team mates had more to do with his stint coming to an end than did his lack of playing ability. As useful as a senior player may be on the field of play, you certainly cannot teach an old dog new tricks!

Ageing beautifully also appears to be in evidence on the West Coast of Australia, with 35 year old Robbie Fowler rolling back the years with his hat-trick against Melbourne Victory, his 2nd and 3rd goals proving that his left foot finishing remains world class. His goals brought back memories of his infamous hat-trick against Arsenal which remains the fastest ever hat-trick in the English Premier League.

Indeed certain goal-poaching instincts and skills simply cannot be coached. But older heads also serve to put the boot in when it matters at crucial points of the game, thereby helping to drag their team-mates along. It’s probably why Capello tried to reintroduce Scholes and Carragher to his side before world cup 2010 shortly after news of Beckham’s injury made world headlines. 
 

 

 

 

Old heads also lead by example and drag their team-mates along when it matters most. Its probably why Inter Milan keep Javier Zanetti (37) on their books and refuse to let go of Materazzi (37), and why Serie A leaders AC Milan have no concerns with keeping 34 year olds Oddo, Yepes and Seedorf (often nicknamed Slowdorf) in their squad and would probably still have Maldini on their books if the latter hadn’t decided to retire at age 41.

This has been a season of indisposable heroes. Aston Villa supporters might scratch their heads about 37 year old Robert Pires having recently joined their squad but the Frenchman might yet prove an inspired acquisition if he lives up to Houllier’s former shrewd acquisition of Scottish midfielder Gary McAllister in 2000, who at 35 spurred Liverpool on to 3 trophies in one season during his solitary year there, a trophy haul which since remains unmatched by an English club.

All of which makes me think that when a player gets older he actually gets better and better. The only thing he may start to lack is the belief of fans what with the media constantly chipping away at older players’ confidence by claiming they are too old and making them scapegoats for team losses. All players certainly have dips in form, but so too have young players. Is Rooney finished? He would be if he were over 30, with just about every tabloid journalist probably lining up to call on him to call time on his career. It’s a grossly unfair trend among many club fans and media outlets to pick on an older player which is why criticism of older players often goes ignored by coaches who in fact prefer experienced players.

Why shouldn’t players last longer with the advanced training regimes and specialised diets afforded them in this day and age? Back in the pre-war and post-war days many players played until and beyond their fifties which certainly could not have been a mean task given the little protection they were afforded by referees back then. 

England legend Stanley Matthews played beyond his sixties, and Pele (arguably the world’s greatest goalscorer) retired at 37. And what about the shameless 37 year old former Socceroo Kevin Muscat, who years after making international headlines for his shocking challenge on Frenchman Christophe Dugarry, still captains the Melbourne Victory, having twice led them to the A League title after choosing to snap shins in midfield instead of defence. Muscat certainly the most famous player of Maltese background, still showing all players how far they can go if they possess enough gall.

 

 

At times managers latch onto fans' complaints that players are getting too old and claim that they’re ‘building for the future’ but often its just an excuse to justify their losses because they’re ‘blooding young players’. Which is probably why Bolton’s Kevin Davies wasn’t selected again for England after becoming the oldest England debutant since Leslie Crompton in 1950 when he was selected to play a Euro 2012 qualifier against Montenegro last month. Yet despite his advanced years (33) many fans have long argued that Davies should be an England regular what with his cast-iron pie arse being a useful tool with which to hold up the ball for a younger nippier striker.

Older players might at worst lose a yard of pace, but experience counts for so much more, as was evidenced by Teddy Sheringham before he hung up his boots. Here was a striker who lasted so long because he could read the game so well. It’s easy to discard older players but they’re difficult to replace. As evidenced in the Spurs-Arsenal clash, they are all too often a determining factor in close encounters, just like when Spain faced the awesome young Germany side in the semis of World Cup 2010 and old head Puyol (second oldest player on the pitch after fellow Spaniard Capdevila) popped up to bang in the winner with his shaggy head in what was a tense and close encounter. 

Conventional wisdom has usually dictated that retirement ages should be 34 max for a striker, 36 for a midfielder, 38 for a defender and 40 for a goalie, but this season the exploits of many veterans have flown into the face of this dogma. David James has broken the 40 year old mark playing in goal for Bristol and will he play on till 50? One wonders what hairstyle or woeful cream suit will he might sport at that age? Perhaps James is hoping to follow in the footsteps of the other eccentric keeper and inventor of the infamous ‘scorpion kick’, Colombian goalie Rene Higuita, who only retired earlier this year at the venerable age of 43.

For all the debate surrounding whether older players should be kept in club sides and international squads, I say let them play for as long as they want to, it’s often the media hype about how old they are that eventually gets them to pack it all in. Tell a football player – or anyone for that matter – that they’re finished for long enough and they’ll even start to believe it. But once they’re gone, they're inevitably always missed.

 

 

Nanny State

Is the western world becoming one big overregulated nanny state? We inevitably always point the finger at China, but are the warnings contained in George Orwell’s 1984 finally ringing true?

I was in a bar in Byron Bay a few years back, a bit beyond tipsy which I thought was par for the course, given that I was in a bar. Earlier my Spanish mate Jorge and I had managed to walk all the way up to the lighthouse without stepping on a brown snake or being bitten by a funnel-web and it seemed a better excuse than most to get slaughtered (and over time I’ve had some really bad ones). So I staggered up to the counter and asked the barmaid for another two Peronis, proffering a red lobster (twenty dollar note) in her direction. She shot back a look of disgust and rasped at me.

‘How much have you had to drink?’

Admittedly since the move to Sydney my alcohol intake has sunk to ridiculously low levels and two beers already had me feeling quite light-headed. So it was no lie when I replied:

‘A couple.’

The barmaid was having none of it and it took my most pitiful ‘Puss in Boots’ stare out of Shrek II to finally get her to give me another drink. 

By the time I’d reached the dance floor again to flop about some young birds that had just turned up, a squat and short skinhead of a bouncer cut a swift and diagonal beeline for me and whispered threateningly in my ear.

‘You look like you need a breath of fresh air mate.’

By no means am I a risk taker, so I obliged the little tosser by walking out of the club. There see? I’m a good boy. I could easily have floored the little runt and made a dash for it, although take it from me: in Australia (or any other country for that matter), a brush with a bouncer could be your last, no matter how famous or athletic you think you are.

But incidents like this have had me thinking: are we being overcontrolled? Isn’t the whole point of going out on the town to get drunk? Besides, although I’m not sure where my eyes went, I didn’t touch anyone, nor did I succeed in spilling a drink on anybody (a fate that often seems to befall me in nightclubs). So am I being unreasonable in stating that we’re living in a society whose institutions and figures of authority are always falling over themselves to appear to be politically correct? 


I mean on one hand it’s also true that figures of authority (if indeed a bouncer does fall under this category) get bagged a bit too much, and I guess guys like Lotito (President of Roman club SS Lazio) is to be admired for his sporting attitude after his club lost the Rome derby when saying that institutions and referees should be accorded more respect (despite questionable decisions of the referee in a game that cost his club at least a point.)

 

 

But aren’t vehement protests also in order when good faith is not accorded to citizens by those same institutions? How can you explain not being allowed to be seen carrying a bottle of booze in the street, or having to show up with a doctor’s prescription at the pharmacy all the time? Why is it that everyone except the ‘pirates’ have got to watch the same old stupid ‘piracy is a crime’ clip whenever they rent a dvd?

And it’s the same in football. There’s the vid tech, but FIFA instead gets its panties in a wad about creating a 'technical area' (a square box literally used to keep a coach from pacing too far during a match) or appointing a fourth official to make sure managers don’t raise their voices too high or players don’t take their shirts off after scoring. What a load of absolute pizzle! And therefore overregulation raises its ugly head again whilst the really important things are overlooked. So because figures of authority lack the cookies to show some muscle with real offenders, the rest of us have to be patronised and told how to breathe. It’s really becoming a bit too much.

So much so that today a manager cannot even select a team of players he wants to play. You read that right. Today the English Premier League (EPL) risks losing its brightest young English manager because they might fine him for picking a team that almost beat Aston Villa. Why? Because they think the team was weakened by his selection. It’s an absolute farce if you ask me. In a league where a messianic manager who does the impossible (Chris Hughton at Newcastle) is risking getting the chop because of an unlikely defeat to Blackburn, can the EPL seriously think that a manager would willingly play other players in his 25 man squad in a bid to lose a game?!

The roots of this problem lie in last year’s EPL season when something happened which passed by almost unnoticed. In short, Wolves manager Mick McCarthy dropped ten players from his first team squad which went on to face Manchester United and end up on the wrong side of a 3-0 stuffing. The EPL stepped in and fined Wolves for their first team coach’s squad selection, quoting rule E20 from their rulebook. Which is really stretching the wording of the law when you consider that all rule E20 says is that ‘a team should field its full strength lineup.’

When I heard of this absurd action by the EPL I was sure it would send shockwaves running through the world of football and draw rants and raves from McCarthy (if not the whole football world). Instead, Ireland’s Captain Fantastic took the decision squarely on the chin without so much as batting an eyelid (ever since the days of his head to head with Roy Keane during the 2002 world cup, Mick appears a manager who tries to sidestep controversy and a guy that prefers his team’s actions on the pitch to do the talking.) So McCarthy was silently punished for picking his own team which, as a manager, you’d think he had every right to do. On their part the EPL dished out a hefty fine to a smaller club of a few hundred thousand pounds before returning to their offices in the West End to further discuss important things like the 39^th game for a few more decades. 

Evidently they thought that the matter was done and dusted and that (in the words of McCarthy) a precedent had been set: if we think you’ve been naughty, boys, you’ll get a slap on the wrist. And before this season began, everyone seemed willing to toe the line.

When along came Ian Holloway, lovingly known by his growing list of admirers as ‘Olly, fly in the EPL ointment extraordinaire. After his charges’ gruelling encounter with Everton on Sunday 6th Nov, 'Olly dropped none less than ten first team players to play Aston Villa last Wednesday (10th Nov), his choice flying straight into the face of the EPL’s sanction against Wolves. For horror! William Tell forgot to bow to the overlord's hat! Ever an entertainer of the passionate variety, Holloway went on to engage in an endless post-match rant and rave, passionately defending his selection when it was suggested by journalists that he would be penalised by the EPL for dropping ten players.

This is going to be a real appetiser. The institutional bully of the EPL having no choice but to take on the voice of world football’s inconvenient truths. The EPL looks like it’s being left with little choice but to investigate the most outspoken manager since Jose Mourinho, a guy who’s not about to take anything on the chin, or anywhere else, without good reason.

You’ve just got to laugh. It’s just ludicrous, another case of an institution being strong with the weak and weak with the strong. Does anyone ever investigate Sir Alex Ferguson or Arsene Wenger when they decide to rest some players at Manchester United or Arsenal? Was Rafa Benitez ever fined for his rotation policy when manager of Liverpool FC? Or should UEFA perhaps punish Roy Hodgson because he fielded a weakened side against Napoli in the Europa League a few weeks back? The EPL should really be ashamed of themselves. Or alternatively, they should really try and save face by refunding Wolves last’s season’s fine and leaving Blackpool well alone. As pointed out by ‘Olly himself, Manchester United almost got the same result against Aston Villa themselves a few days after he fielded his controversial selection. And as admitted by Villa manager Gerard Houllier, ‘Olly’s irascible starting lineup had Aston Villa completely confused and almost won Blackpool the game.

If Allegri at AC Milan or Real Madrid’s Mourinho rang the changes to their side, will they be fined? Will Alex Ferguson be fined for not picking Rooney for such a long period of time even though the latter has admitted that he’s not really injured? Of course not, and therein lies the problem with applying rule E20 in such an overzealous, irrational manner. Unless there’s concrete proof of purposely fielding a weaker side or of match-fixing, the regulator should have no choice but to assume good faith on behalf of the coach and respect his selections. Can you force a player to score a goal regardless of whether Drogba or Sturridge is picked? Or are the EPL also going to try and locate the intent behind a keeper’s clanger to check if Van Der Sar was just securing a last season pay out with the bookies?

 

 

 

The league is heading into dangerous waters if it keeps up with this lunacy. They are actually paying people to investigate whether some players are better than others: that’s what it boils down to isn’t it? So some of the money paid by people to watch EPL football in the comfort of their own sofa is going towards paying these buffoons, a handful of bureaucrats, paid to investigate whether world cup veterans like Australia’s David Carney or Ghana’s Richard Kingson can contribute to a full strength squad! I must say, it’s both patronising and ludicrous.

What's also being overlooked is that ‘Olly gave a chance to four new English players in his new starting lineup (Southern having played in previous games), two of whom are EPL veterans anyway (Ormerod, Euell) and the other two new players who put in impressive debuts, with Phillips chosen again in Blackpool’s following game against West Ham. The rest of the foreign contingent that were selected were by no means football novices having played in leagues like the Dutch Eredivisie or French Ligue 1. So for blooding two promising young English players (who put in a great debut) and giving them a stab at glory, ‘Olly now faces an investigation and a fine. 

What a joke are the EPL, a competition that does an almighty zilch and wholehearted nought towards developing the game at grass-roots level in England, to the complete detriment of the national team, reducing the latest beleaguered England manager Fabio Capello to having to pick the benches of Premier league clubs and the championship (England's second division) in order to snuff out a snitch of English talent. It’s completely pathetic, and the EPL, despite being a league that earns millions, is the top tier league of a nation that always lags behind when it comes to youth development, unlike the Germans who of late seem to all too often have it right, with their rules forcing 12 homegrown players (and eligible to represent Germany) to be on the books of each team playing in the Bundlesliga.

The truth is that some action must now be taken, with the EPL’s punishment against Wolves last season leaving them between a rock and a hard place. McCarthy has justifiably heaped the pressure upon them further, having claimed that after the fine he suffered last year, action must now be taken against Blackpool FC. Indeed what’s good for the goose should be good for the gander. On his part, ‘Olly has stoked the pressure up to boiling point by claiming that if the EPL interfere with his team selection, he’ll quit. It will be a crying shame if he does and a much poorer EPL for it. ‘Olly and his band of journeymen and unknown upstarts (DJ Campbell sounds like some character straight out of a Guy Ritchie flick) have really brightened up the Premier league this year and his rants, about Wayne Rooney in particular, have been priceless.


‘Olly calls it as he sees it, which is why in an ideal world he would eventually become England manager and eventually head of the EPL. Of course there is as much chance of this happening as Brian Clough ever had of becoming England manager. After all, ‘Olly and institutions do not commonly sit in the same sentence, unlike a Russian owner and mystery, for example. But if this really is the end and the curtain’s almost about to fall, then thank you ‘Olly. We have enjoyed every step of the journey with you. 

 

No Place Like Home

Whenever any of the cousins walked into my grandmother’s house with take-away food, she’d turn her nose up at them with a suspicious stare and ask ‘where did you buy that from?’ Regardless of the answer or excuse provided she would look distinctly unimpressed. Perhaps she had a right to be cynical, given recent revelations surrounding food retailers in supposed ‘upper end of the scale’ suburbs. And furthermore, it was somewhat disrespectful to walk into an abode that produced brilliant home-made cuisine at all times of the day proffering some cheap pizza soaked in oil or a pathetic excuse for a burger from MacDonalds.

Which begs the question: why is it that when people have great things at home they feel like they have to replace them with half-baked things from outside? And spend stupid money to boot? This happens all the time in football, where good home-grown or domestic players are replaced by foreign misfits for no apparent reason. But should a league so easily forego its talented domestic players? It’s not just a good player that’s being lost, but all his loyalty and dedication to a club that’s worked hard to produce him. Just look at Steven Gerrard at Liverpool. Would Kopites rather have a multi-zillion pound Brazilian instead with twice his dribbling skills but half his attitude?

 

 

Of course not, it’s the spirit that makes a house a home, not the Olympic sized swimming pool or the big Merc parked outside. Just ask Steve Gibson, chairman of Middlesborough. The poor sod spent many fortunes on foreign mercenaries only to see his club relegated twice. And for what? One Worthington cup. Back in the days of the crazy gang, Wimbledon FC won a bleeding FA Cup against the indomitable Liverpool FC of old without a scintilla of Gibson’s major outlay. And it was a famous victory forged of rock-hard team spirit, not oodles of cash. You can’t buy spirit, and maybe that’s why Chelsea haven’t yet won the Champions League.

This might be sounding overly romantic, but it is nonetheless worth asking: why have local players become such a rarity at top level club sides? Back in the day, it was the rare overseas player that caused a stir among a club’s fans, especially if they were good (which meant they were not shipped back home the following season instead of earning money on the bench like they do nowadays), but these days domestic leagues (especially the English Premiership) are so flooded with a glut of (often average) foreign stars that it’s now the home-grown player that gets the pulses racing: like Stevie G did last week against Napoli.
 

 

These days it’s the domestic player who is the exotic prospect that captures the fan’s imagination, be it Ignazio Abate scything down Cristiano Ronaldo for AC Milan, Del Piero still outwitting Milan sides for Old Lady Juve, or young guns Kelly, Spearing, Shelvey or Eccleston featuring in famous wins for Liverpool against the likes of Napoli and Chelsea. In fact the trend seems to be slowly changing for the better, with clubs like Liverpool and Juventus showing greater faith in homegrown youth. Only last week Juve manager Del Neri expressed his full confidence in youngsters Giandonato, Buchel, Liverio and Giannetti whom he threw on against Salzburg in the Europa Cup. Indeed recent selections at Turin and Merseyside (Everton are one of few English clubs to have a large scouting network at clubs in England) are flying in the face of the seemingly endless invasion of foreign players that is causing good (if not better) domestic players to seek to thrive elsewhere. But if it ain’t broke, why fix it?

Besides, home-made players (with the possible exception of Mario Balotelli at Inter) are generally good for their club and the game in general. Roy Hodgson recently spoke of Gerrard and Carragher’s unquestioned readiness to represent their club on the field of play. Which is not to mention the phenomenal success of Barca’s home brew in the form of Xavi, Iniesta et al and the success that these same players have brought about for Spain on the international stage. These types of players are usually enduring role-models who won’t leave the club unless they are sold, players that young fans can look up to, like the former Paolo Maldini at AC Milan or Scholes and Giggs who embody Manchester United (not to mention the friend of all submissive Maltese editors, Gary Neville). And can Torres’s brace against Chelsea feel as good to local Liverpudlians as Gerrard’s goals did against Napoli? It’s a long shot.
 

 

Today, when a player is homegrown, he causes far more excitement when he stars in the starting lineup where before the same furore was created by a foreign star. It’s a funny and ironic state of affairs but one which will hopefully begin to mark a turnaround in a hopelessly lopsided modern game that always seems to favour style over substance. I mean surely the whole of West London can produce more than one player to feature in the Chelsea starting lineup? And how is it that academies like that at Everton or West Ham (following in the footsteps of Leeds Utd) can produce such a healthy supply line of first team talent whereas other clubs only seek to buy foreigners on the cheap?

And even if the talent is not available at home, shouldn’t the national league create it by developing and fostering it? It's not how good you are, it's how good you want to be, right? After the world cup, there were some interesting debates floating around about what constitutes a successful domestic league. Is it one like the Premier league that usually competes well in Europe but produces questionable and meagre talent for the English national team? Or is it a league like the Bundesliga which although not producing as many successful clubs in Europe has bred a phenomenal young national side who all of whom plied their trade in their domestic league (before Real Madrid swooped for two of them)? Which is not to mention the success of the Spanish national team, who hardly fielded any foreign based players at all when clinching the Euro and the world cup.
 

 

Recently Australia coach Holger 'Osi' Osieck stated that the A league should be a breeding ground for future Australian internationals since there is no substitute for first team football, wherever it is played. What was more interesting was hearing his talk of there being a ‘responsibility’ to help local players improve. Which in turn would imply that if players are leaving their country, then someone is not doing a good job back home or that someone abroad is offering them big carrots because they cannot do a good job of meeting their own responsibilities in their own country. Ok, it might be a case of easy brownie points for Mr Kraut, a way for Osi to outshine his predecessor Grim Pim who always dissed the A-league. At the end of the day actions will speak louder than words but given recent performances by his country's national team it's not improbable that Osi will start giving home based Aussies their break on the international scene. Ideally this attitude would be complemented by allowing a smaller number of foreigners in domestic leagues, who should only be introduced to spur a domestic tournament along qualitatively, not drown out the local talent which has the potential to shine on a bigger stage.

Recently there were sniggers heard all round when it was touted that Wayne Rooney might join Perth Glory in the A-League. But if an influx of foreign players like Rooney are going to make it impossible for local Aussies to get a game, then who on earth wants him here anyway? Together with all the petty scandals that will follow him around like a bad smell? If control of the foreign contingent in the A-League means that Australia’s domestic league can produce a competitive national team, akin to the clinical German squad produced by the Bundesliga or the successful Spanish side forged in La Liga, then foreign players and their agents can infest the domestic leagues of other ‘less responsible’ countries, to the detriment of their national sides.