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Goal II: Living the Dream taught me that Real Madrid are the most glamorous football club in the world. Their players know how to party, have great hair, and are supposed to be good footballers.
I fell for it, just like Glen Foy fell for Santiago Munez. Go ahead, have a laugh! But at least now I know those movies were a big EFF'n joke. Hard to believe I thought they were documentaries until I read their Wikipedia entries...
Ahem, yes, back to Real Madrid. Also a joke. Why? If you read the five best football websites, you've surely heard by now that Los Merengues have tabled a January transfer bid for Jermaine Jenas. Yes, that Jermaine Jenas. The Jermaine Jenas who passes laterally or backward over 90% of the time. The Jermaine Jenas laughably compared to Steven Gerrard and Frank Lampard in yesteryear's gone by. The Jermaine Jenas who shouldn't start for Tottenham Hotspur; the same Tottenham Hotspur teetering on the brink of relegation. The Jermaine Jenas who~! You get the point.
Sounds more like a nightmare than the dream the aforementioned movies labeled the club. In recent weeks Real Madrid have been outpriced for Antonio Valencia (of Wigan!), snubbed by Jermaine Pennant (third string at Liverpool, who chose Wigan(!) over Madrid), and been told "thanks, but no thanks" by Didier Zakora (Didier Zakora!). Cristiano Ronaldo they certainly are not.
After hearing that Real was looking to add pace on the wings, the attempted swoops for Zakora and Jenas are puzzling. Clearly, there is a Tottenham bias at work. Imagine if one could meld a not-so-good winger with a Hotspur pedigree. Andy Reid? Andy Reid!
A flop at Tottenham... just like Zakora and Jenas. A coulda-been, never-was... just like Pennant. And if Sunderland ask for more than £3 million... too expensive for Real Madrid just like Antonio Valencia.
Andy Reid to Real Madrid! You heard it here first. But probably not last. Oh dear. If only Santiago Munez really was real...
(Editor's Note: Troubled by my depiction of her, Iuns sweetly volunteered to offer a differing account of her sports watching experience and an explanation as to why she never embraced football. Read on to find out which sport she did grow to appreciate! Also, if you're not convinced she's a female by appearance alone, look closely and see shoe shopping going on. And yes, those are skinny arms. Crucial...)
The more inquisitive (Editor's Note: and sexist) of you readers may be asking yourselves, what is a woman with as little sports knowledge and enthusiasm such as myself doing guest writing for a sports blog sponsored by a sporting-obsessed aficionado such as Billynho? That, dear readers, is exactly the question I will be muttering and mulling over as I type out this piece.
All issues of personal knowledge aside, I have had the honor of witnessing Billynho pursue basketball, football, futbol, cycling, cross country, and basically every other sport man has been crazy enough to invent (with the sordid exceptions of cricket and wrestling) firsthand. This would be a convenient time to mention that I happen to be the crazy ex-girlfriend mentioned on occasion. Despite the slander on my sanity, I am Billynho’s greatest fan and love nothing better than to read his articles over breakfast. Since I will assume that you readers love to do the same, I’m going to divulge some insight into his character. Firstly, the issue of his extensive knowledge in practically every faction of the sporting world demands to be mentioned. Waking up in the morning the man immediately jumped out of bed and onto his computer chair, from where he purused European soccer results. Then he would pore over LetsRun, either deriding or lauding opinions, but engrossed all the same. Next Billynho would check Fox Sports, Deadspin, ESPN, and whatever other sites he could manage before the sound of my whining became too much for him, and he had to drag his attention back to me. The moment I let my guard down, however, Billynho would escape and cycle endlessly through sports sites once again. Thinking about it almost induces irritant twitching in my right and most sensitive eye. Luckily I have excellent motor control, and we can instead move onto other issues.
One to which all sporting aficionados (I'm sure) can relate is the attempt to convince your significant other that they would become even more significant to you if they would just become as enthused about soccer/track/hockey/arm wrestling as you are. In an attempt not to stereotype, because doubtless out there in this world are sporting-lusting women strong-arming their helpless boyfriend into watching their much revered favorite sport, I will assume that “you” can be male or female. In my case, Billynho was the one who pushed me towards watching more sports. His first attempt was college football. In an ironic and crushing twist of fate, the first football game I attended was the slaughter of our beloved Purdue by the dastardly devils at Ohio State. Clearly it did not provide a fortuitous start towards my long lasting love of football. Subsequent games were slightly more interesting as he took more care to describe player biographies to me and they did not involve the destruction of my alma mater. I am going to emphasize this point: everyone loves character development. Books include it. Television series depend upon it. Why oh why, therefore, would a man think a woman would enjoy watching a sport where she knows nothing about the players? She doesn’t. Therefore supplying your significant other with a brief history of some key players is going to be the MVP move in winning their interest. All the same and despite Billynho’s best efforts, I never really gained the deeper appreciation most men seem to have for football.
Basketball, however, is a very different story. A grand total of ten players are much easier to remember than eighty, and their roles on the court are more self explanatory. Surprising amounts of success from a young and untried team also helps to add to the excitement. As the Purdue “Baby Boilers” (inane name, but you still have to adore them) clawed their way skyward in college basketball rankings, my budding love hitched a ride. Who can argue with Hummel, Martin (recently departed but instantly replaced in my heart by lewjack), JaJuan J, and E’Twaun? Certainly not I. Instead I held my breath, gasped, cheered, screamed and cursed alongside the best of them (and arguably even more than Billynho) for the entire winter.
When I debuted the list this summer, there was much fanfare and interest. What's changed since then? Manchester City has an infinite transfer budget, for one. Here's the updated list of the ten most valuable (in terms of price if sold on the transfer market) football (soccer if you're American) players in the world: 10) Michael Essien— Chelsea made Essien the most expensive African footballer ever when they purchased him from Lyon for £24 million in 2005. Despite injury this season, he'll walk right back into the starting line-up wherever he feels like playing when he's back to health.
He's a straight G and can do it all. There isn't a side in the world that he wouldn't start for.
Value: £35 million
What would Manchester City pay for him? £45 million
9) Arsenal's Cesc Fabregas— I ripped Cesc pretty bad first time around, but he's growing on me a bit. He's becoming more tough in the tackle, scoring more goals, and whining less. And he's still a stupendous passer.
Compliments aside, I hate him.
What would Manchester City pay for him? £55 million
8) Valencia's David Villa- A coveted commodity to Europe's best clubs for over five years now, Villa has stepped his game up even more this season. He's second on La Liga's goal scoring charts with 13, had a great Euro 2008, and even looks to have grown an inch or so (making him a gargantuan 5'7" I believe). I still question how much better he is than a Jermaine Defoe or Robbie Keane, but Europe's elite don't seem to share my concern.
Value: £40 million
What would Manchester City pay for him? £60 million apparently?
7) Real Madrid's Iker Casillas— It seems just a few years since some were questioning whether Real Madrid needed to pursue a new keeper to relieve Casillas of his duty. After allowing 13 La Liga goals in 2007-08 and (like Villa) sparkling at Euro 2008, managing directors, scouts, and that guy who announcing La Liga on Gol are all over his nuts today.
He's good, but Real is struggling this year. Anything over 30 million for a keeper seems overkill.
Value: £45 million
What would Manchester City pay for him? £60 million
6) Liverpool's Fernando Torres- A case could be made that he should be a few spots higher on this list, but the fact that he tattooed his name in J.R.R. Tolkien's Tengwar script on his forearm weighed heavily against him.
Yes, he's a proven goalscorer, Euro 2008 champion, and has lovely hair, but Tengwar?
Value: £45 million
What would Manchester City pay for him?
5) Real Madrid's Sergio Ramos— I still see it. You know what I'm talking about. That something going on between Torres and Ramos. Don't you sense it? Nothing wrong that, it's cool, whatever. Two less guys I gotta compete with.
What isn't cool is their Tengwar tattoos.
Value: £45 million
What would Manchester City pay for him? £55 million
4) Atletico Madrid's Sergio Aguero— El Kun is marrying Diego Maradona's daughter and has the whole world comparing him to El Pibe de Oro. Like the three men above him, he seems to have been born with a ball at his feet. He scored three goals in five Champions League group games and is an even money bet to have Real Madrid stalking him once they seal the Ronaldo transfer.
Value: £50 million
What would Manchester City pay for him? £60 million
3) Barcelona's Lionel Messi— Let me just say this... Messi is very, very, very, very EFFing good. But that dude on Gol needs to calm down. During Saturday's Barcelona and Real Madrid game, the guy ranted that Messi was a (paraphrasing) "FUCKING COLLOSUS PUT ON EARTH TO SMITE REAL MADRID FANS AND PUT TEARS IN THE EYES OF HUMAN BEINGS THE EARTH OVER, WATCHING HIM PLAY FOOTBALL IS AKIN TO WATCHING BEETHOVEN WRITE HIS SIXTH SYMPHONY. HE'S NOT A MORTAL, HE SHALL BE AROUND TIL THE END OF TIME AS A GIFT FROM THE GODS TO BE CHERISHED AND CELEBRATED AND WORSHIPPED, AMEN!"
Value: £65 million
What would Manchester City pay for him? £100 million
What would the guy on Gol pay? Stack all the gold, frankencinse, myrrh women, and women in the history of the world... then double it.
2) AC Milan's Kaká— Behind the angelic baby face and devotional undershirts lies the holy grail of modern midfielders. Kaká blends track speed, surprising power, and ridiculous skill.
He's consistently productive for both club and country, a rare scandal-free star, and still just 26 years old. He's had a quiet season, but who doesn't love Kaka?
Value: £60 million
What would Manchester City pay for him? £85 million
1) Manchester United's Cristiano Ronaldo— The best player in the world (right now), Ronaldo is a master dribbler, shooter, and diver.
In 2007-08, he scored 42 goals in 48 games in leading Manchester United to a Premier League and Champions League double.
Before stumping up the transfer list price for Ronaldo, Madrid and Manchester City should remember that two years ago Ronaldinho would've been atop this list at £100 million. Of course, Ronaldinho never outran a Bugatti. My bad.
As long as he keeps the trash talking, winks, and penalty kicking to a minimum, he may just be worth the investment.
Value: £70 million
What would Manchester City pay for him? £120 million
Still just falling short (hehe)— At age nine, the 4'6" wunderkind next-Pele, next-Maradona, next-Ronaldinho, next-Freddy Adu became an overnight Internet sensation.
Videos of him popping the keeper (who couldn't reach the crossbar jumping), dribbling through players as if they hadn't fully developed their leg muscles yet, and celebrating each of his 10 goals a game like they were World Cup game-winners flooded YouTube.
At the time, it was purported that Chera was the best U-14 player in all of Brazil. Santos may have mined a metaphorical golden talent. But probably not.
Also considered: Bojan, Petr Cech, Micah Richards, Wesley Sneijder, Robinho, Franck Ribery, Wayne Rooney, Gianluigi Buffon, Karim Benzema
Little Scoonie Scudderson of Birmingham, England, died at eight years old in early 2006 when a Kanshaku crawled into his liver. Luckily, doctors discovered the mythical 16th century Japanese bug fighting its way toward little Scoonie's chest cavity and let him know that he had one month to live.
At first, it sucked. Little Scoonie cried... and cried... and cried some more. Who wants to die at age eight, right? Then, the Make A Wish Foundation called and said they were going to make Scoonie's last, er, dream come true.
"Hooray!" croaked the boy (talking was hard, what with the angry creature inside him chomping organs constantly), and he thought to himself, "This Kanshaku is the greatest thing that ever happened to me!" and a big smile broke out on his face.
The Make A Wish people had never seen someone so excited about dying, and so they asked the little boy, "What'll it be kid?" Little Scoonie smiled, winked at himself in the mirror, and confidently whispered, "Could, could ya, could ya please make sure Aston Villa qualifies for the Champions League next season?"
The Make A Wish Foundation people looked at one another, nodded solemnly, then bursting out laughing!
"No one told me this boy was retarded?"
"Out of the question!"
"Impossible!"
"YOU MIGHT AS WELL DIE NOW KID!"
And Little Scoonie did die. Right that second.
But his last wish lived on. Or so the story goes that Martin O'Neill heard of Little Scoonie and his impossible request and vowed to himself that he would make that little boy's wish a reality in his honor. True to his word, everything he has done at Aston Villa has been nothing short of miraculous.
With a squad long on young, potential stars made good and veteran retreads rejected by Europe's elite, and short on big name, big money signings, O'Neill has hauled Aston Villa up to table to where they sit today... one point off Arsenal for fourth place in the Premier League. The December 26 meeting between the two should be the most intense game of the first half of the season.
In just over two years, O'Neill has transformed Aston Villa regular Gareth Barry into England regular Gareth Barry, a level he'd been short of for almost five years prior; cast a spell on Ashley Young, manipulating him into an England hotshot preferred over Aaron Lennon and David Bentley on the wing; and concocted one Gabriel Agbonlahor, arguably his Magnum opus, the nation's top prospect for the future.
In a league that has become depressingly staid, overhyped, and ridiculous, he's a refreshing, down-to-earth figure that promises little and delivers large. One has to wonder whether Villa would be fighting for first, rather than fourth, if he'd spent like folly fiends Tottenham.
Alas, it was a miracle Scoonie demanded, and only Little Scoonie would've believed that Martin O'Neill could do so much with so little.
Now if only some eight year old Leeds fan were to be about to die with a commensurate wish... then we'd all be REALLY impressed Martin.
Once again, Spice Boy David Beckham is rumored to be looking to be the special ingredient for a world-beating recipe. How'd those last few concotions turn out?
When England caretaker manager Peter Taylor appointed Beckham captain of the England national team in 2000, it was with the thought that he might lead the squad to a golden era of football. Instead, the squad was booed for the majority of his tenure, and the team failed to advance past the quarter-finals of his two World Cups in the armband.
When Real Madrid bought Beckham in 2003 (per the terms of the Galactico theory of football management), they envisioned him as the final piece to the greatest team ever assembled. Instead, Madrid failed to advance as far the Champions League Final in his time with the club, and Becks became the poster-boy for the modern footballer more concerned with fame than football.
When the Los Angeles Galaxy awarded Beckham with an incentive laden contract worth up to $250 million over five seasons last summer, they proclaimed that he could make Americans care about soccer, put the MLS on level footing with American football, and lure more stars to the States. Instead, Americans still don't even know when the MLS is in season, the MLS is still trying to claw its way to the fourth-tier of the world's football leagues just behind the Eredivisie, and a 31-year-old Juan Pablo Angel is the next most relevant non-American signing by the league.
So a logical man might think that Beckham should stop looking for challenges. But he'd be wrong. It's time once again for Beckham to (attempt to) swoop to the rescue of a faltering football faction in the spotlight; this time, it's Tottenham Hotspur in dire need of help.
Spurs, despite their reputation for underachieving, have really outdone themselves and are currently languishing in last place in the Premier League. The club's summer transfer moves have left Tottenham with an unbalanced squad, strong on the wings, weak in the middle and up top.
Ever since Tottenham greedily buckled and pawned Michael Carrick off to Manchester United for a massive profit, they've lacked a fulcrum in the center of the pitch. They've tried a series of midfielders in the center of the park, but all have yet to grab the game by the scruff of the neck and supply the rest of the squad.
Enter Beckham. Two overlooked, improved aspects of his game as he's aged are his tackling ability and his toughness. Spurs are in desperate need of each everywhere on the park. Combine those with his world-class passing ability, leadership, ballhandling, and experience, and he may be capable of shifting inside and excelling at the Premier League level. Fair questions would be raised about his pace and positioning, but if Lasanna Diarra is fast enough and Joey Barton smart enough to excel inside, Beckham will be just fine.
Could it happen? Yes. But it's hard to say if it's realistic. The Galaxy may be happy to let Beckham walk after the failed experiment; even if they're not thrilled at the thought of Beckham leaving, one gets the sense that it was understood from the beginning that Becks could leave after a few seasons if he so desired.
So I believe it'd be up to Tottenham. They tend to focus on signing youth, but two factors play in favor of the duo forming an unforeseen pair. One, Tottenham is desperate. They felt they might be on top of the table at this point, not embarassingly seated at the bottom. Secondly, Daniel Levy is all about money and adding the highest profile player in the world could only help the bottom line.
And if the move goes down and doesn't pan out, it's still not all bad. The journos and tabloids will already be in position watching Golden Balls' every move when Juande Ramos finally gets the ax. Of course, here's guessing he still won't have learned English by the time that happens. Unless they sign Beckham.
Rarely does it make sense to propose that one of the greatest footballers in one of the greatest footballing nations move from the greatest club in his great footballing country to a perhaps-not-so-great club in the greatest league in the world. Have I confused everyone yet? Great!
What I'm trying to say is that it's nigh past time for (the great) Lukas Podolski to move to the English Premier League already. If you're not familiar with the Bundesliga, you might be saying, "Why-why-WHY the hell should he leave Germany? He's a national team fixture, he plays for the best team in the country, and some Americans know who is- they don't know anyone!- so he's getting plenty of exposure."
All valid points with stronger counter-arguments. Yes, he's a national team fixture and Bayern Munich writes his paychecks. But Bayern is merely a sugar daddy for Podolski; he doesn't get a chance to work for that money. He rarely gets a game, and when he does it's out of position. He's a world superstar because of his insane 31 goals in 52 appearances for Germany, not anything he does for club. He scores just one in five games for Bayern... in other words, with less regularity than former Bayern midfielder and Germany fringe-player Mehmet Scholl. Could casual football fans even pick Scholl out of a police line-up?
Podolski has proven to be undeniably world-class. He's sound technically, has a powerful shot that he can get off quickly, is impossible to contain one-on-one (he terrorized Portugal/Chelsea right-back Jose Bosingwa, possibly the world's best at that position, at Euro 2008), and is a true match-winner. He should be building his legacy at both club and country, not just one.
Moving to England, where there would be no shortage of suitors, would put Podolski on display in the world's greatest league every week- rather than its greatest stage for one month every four years at the World Cup- and make him lots of money. Money isn't everything in life, so also sweetening the pot is the fact that there are about five top-half sides that he could walk into and become the main playmaker, never having to worry about playing time again. The owners of Everton, Aston Villa, Tottenham, Manchester City, and, perhaps, Arsenal, would dig under the couch cushions- or more typically just drill some more oil- to find the funds to procure Poldi.
Whether the world next notices him smashing the Gunners through to the semi-finals of the Champions League or scoring the decisive goal for the underdogs in the Manchester derby, I'd just like to notice him in something other than white.
He's one of the game's greats and deserves the chance to prove it unequivocally.
I was reading The Offside and came across the news that Landon Donovan is once again cogitating about a move to Europe. Seems Landon reckons he could breakthrough this time around. And he thinks Ron Artest will stay on his best behavior with the Houston Rockets, Kwame Brown will become an NBA All-Star with the Detroit Pistons, Floyd Landis really was clean, and Matt Millen is a hot GM candidate.
Donovan's got classy cleats; when he's on his game, he's a quicker Tim Cahill. But the old adage "form is temporary, class is permanent" doesn't apply to him. Too often, the evidence of that God-given talent is fleeting. Why? Donovan's fragile on-field psyche suggests to me that he plays while coming down from coke highs (supported by the fact that he was recently teammates with Abel Xavier).
No, I sincerely hope Donovan does move to Europe in January. Cahill's Everton might actually be an ideal landing spot since they're so thin, but I think he's built for La Liga, where defenders aren't as physical.
I want to believe he'll take the continent by storm this time around, but I've lost my innocence. Just as I'd never sign Stephon Marbury (or let him in the back seat of my car), I probably wouldn't sign Donovan. But I'd love to be the Mel Kiper Jr. to his Chris Spielman and watch him become the world class player that I don't think he is.
I wish the movie Back to the Future was real, don't you? I simply cannot bear to wait five years for the 2013 Champion League group stages. By that time the scores of wunderkind next-Cristiano Ronaldos, next-Messis, next-Kakas, and next-Zidanes will all have surely put paid to all that potential (note: English football will continue to lag til scouts locate the next-Titus Bramble and Carlton Coles, who were the next-Sol Campbell and Alan Shearers, respectively). Life mirrors the old Football Manager games you see.
If you believe the Daily Mail, which I typically don't, Chelsea and Arsenal are locking hor~ er, checkbooks, in pursuit of the next-Ronaldinho. 14-year-old Gerard Deulofeu is the teen idolized today. If you're not impressed, don't fret my fellow football fan... Jean Carlos Chera will be arriving on the scene any damn day now.
After painstakingly distancing myself from any soccer or mainstream sports site that I feared would reveal the result of the Manchester United vs. Chelsea battle, I finally got a chance to watch the game for myself on DVR at 1 A.M..
I have to say that I was a bit disappointed, not just because I'm a fan of the Blues. The game was more open and fast-paced than recent affairs between the rivals, but Deco missing with an injury and Ronaldo not coming on til the second half removed some anticipated aesthetic appeal. Still there was the debut of Dimitar Berbatov for Man U, Alex Ferguson's first attempt to outwit fellow footballing genius Luiz Felipe Scolari, and Wayne Rooney managing to stay on for a full 90 minutes despite a card happy referee.
Here are random bits of insight I gleaned from the game:
The first 15 minutes saw a back-and-forth high paced hectic pace with each team on the attack. The highlight was a ridiculous looping volley by Rooney attempting to chip Petr Cech that narrowly missed the goal.
Manchester United scored soon afterward following a spectacular team move consisting of a string of about six first touch passes culminating in a Ji-sung Park rebound goal. Park is oft-overlooked (a racially insensitive friend of mine calls him "that Chinese guy on Manchester United who never does anything") , but I have a lot of respect for him. He's constantly moving on the field, tracks back and gets forward at full speed, and never shies away from physical contact. It's hard to think of a comparable player to Park, but maybe Mikel Arteta?
United controlled much of the rest of the half, with Chelsea surging late, but never really threatening.
The second half was all Chelsea thanks to John Obi Mikel and Frank Lampard. Soon after I scribbled down that Mikel was having a quiet game and didn't seem to be quick enough to keep up with the world-class athletes on the field, he not only stepped up the pace, he took over. His passing improved and became more adventurous, his one free kick was perfectly taken and led to an easy goal for Salomon Kalou, he stuffed Cristiano Ronaldo on multiple occassions one-on-one, and he was an excellent aerial deterrent to United's attack, especially crucial after Ricardo Carvalho went off injured in the first half.
Lampard's game was subtle, but extremely effective. He never found the space to make marauding 20-yard dribbles from the center line, but he alleviated pressure on teammates with excellent first touches, possession, and passing. He rarely gave the ball away and was strong in the tackle. Lamps wasn't flashy, but his second-half steady play inspired the whole side. Didier Drogba came on late and looked like a black Andy Reid... or put more simply, pretty fat. He should take a cue from Mido and lose a few stones, and stop there when it comes to emulating Mido.
Nicolas Anelka whiffed badly from three yards out after a perfect Joe Cole cross when it would've been easier to score. I'm thinking he's not Chelsea quality. I hear Spurs need a striker...
Jonny Evans had a quiet, impressive day. It's hard to believe he's just 20 years old. I don't see United missing Nemanja Vidic if Evans plays like that every game.
And Cristiano Ronaldo, the 130 million quid man... He's clearly not all the way back from his injury yet as he tried to take every Chelsea player one-on-one and was stuffed basically every time. This fan of beautiful football hopes his form improves and he lights up the next match-up between these two top-of-the-table sides.
Four goals in four games have put the Premier League on alert, and, assuming Dr. Evil Daniel Levy has heard, Damien Comolli is probably being tortured in the bowels of White Hart Lane for not bringing Egyptian Amr Zaki to Tottenham. Zaki's start has been branded shocking, alarming, astounding, dumbfounding, flabbergasting, miraculous, and Bobby Zamora-like. All fallacies.
Sure Zamora had his own run of five goals in four games to start the 2006-07 season, but even a coyote catches a roadrunner now and again. Zamora's international record reads 6 U-21 appearances, 0 goals, 0 honors received, and reminds us all that the roadrunner always gets away.
Zaki's: 48 appearances, 29 goals, twice African Nations Cup champion, named to 2008 African Nation's Cup Starting XI.
He's got an accurate low shot reminiscent of Samuel Eto'o, his build is comparable to Robbie Keane, he's got deceptive moment that allow him to dribble by defenders despite lacking high-end quickness, and he can score off headers.
Don't expect him to stay atop the Premier League scoring charts, but Zaki could score around 20 Premier League goals for Wigan Athletic this season and cement his reputation in the class of Roque Santa Cruz and Dean Ashton, above the group of Andy Johnson, Peter Crouch, Emile Heskey, and Darren Bent. Assuming rumors that Wigan do not have an option to buy him in the summer are true, a bid of £15 million pounds from a Champions League wanna-be wouldn't surprise me.
Watching Chelsea hammer/pummel/run circles around Bordeaux in the first half of the Champions League opener for both sides, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd seen this before.
The free-flowing themed football, the extended sets of one-touch passing, the dominant midfield defense, the penetrating dribbles from deep in midfield, the 2-0 halftime lead that would've been five with the presence of a clinical finisher, and the unrelenting search for more goals yet.
Luiz Felipe Scolari has turned Chelsea into what Roman Abramovich always dreamed: Manchester United.
Chelsea have always had the capability to dominate games from beginning to end, but schematically Jose Mourinho was much more conservative. This led to Chelsea's current group of players being slighted by fans and pundits, when really it was the system that made them look like solid, efficient grinders instead of creative, entertaining geniuses.
The additions of Deco and Jose Bosingwa certainly have helped; Deco's passing and movement lend themselves to imaginative football, and Bosingwa's crossing against Bordeaux put long-time Chelsea first-choice target Dani Alves to shame.
But it has been Frank Lampard, Joe Cole, and Michael Ballack who have taken to the tactical nous of Scolari more quickly than Blues fans should have expected.
Should this hold up and teams continue to fail to adjust to Chelsea's new tempo, expect the Blues to emulate not just Manchester United's tempo, but also their achievements by bringing home a Premier League and Champions League double in 2009.
Sadly, times are hard for sports bloggers. BallHype lists over 1,700 sports blogs. Bill Simmons is back writing again. Rick Reilly joined the fray, and let me tell you he is HILARIOUS!!! LOLZ OMG...
Competition for Ad-Sense clicks is at an all-time high. To get those, we have to get views. Sure I could come on here and type BRITNEY SPEARS, or LINDSAY LOHAN, or ANGELINA JOLIE's BABY, or BEYONCE'S BOOTY, THAT GIRL FROM THE HILLS, or RuPAUL, you know, whatever you're into (apparently the average person is into 16-year old gymnasts that run like bulldogs, because a sad but true fact is that the number one way people found our site from Google was by searching "Shawn Johnson nude"), but I like to think we're above ever doing that.
Still, I'm willing to meet the average American halfway from time-to-time. Here I present to you a girl most of you have probably never seen or heard of, but someone entrenched in the sports scene in England.
England and Chelsea midfielder Joe Cole's WAG everyone. Joe Cole's girlfriend, Joe Cole's wife, the difference may not matter to me or you, but having both of those phrases linked to us on Google may make all the difference in the world to our site.
Carly Zucker is her name, I think. Does it really matter?
Emile Heskey is a no-talent Championship striker, not an international footballer. At least not for a nation that aspires to make the World Cup. I know that's a facteveryone can agree on.
Unfortunately no one can agree on anything else when it comes to the most booed team in the world... the England national football team, except for the fact that they suck, they're wankers, and they're boring as hell.
Lucky for all, I'm here to quell the storm with a perscription to cure their ails and answer any questions.
England EFF'n sucks because their talent is overrated, isn't it? In a word, yes. Five Premier League sides possess better strikeforces, and about 15 have better goalkeepers.
But that's not to say they lack world-class players. Unfortunately, the ones they have all overlap in defense and midfield.
Rio Ferdinand, John Terry, Ashley Cole, Wayne Bridge (yes, him), Micah Richards, Frank Lampard, Joe Cole, Steven Gerrard, Owen Hargreaves, and Wayne Rooney are all among the best in the world at their positions. At least it's fair to assume so based off of the integral role they play for the best club sides, and their price tags on the transfer market.
Bloody hell! Are we at least good enough to make the World Cup or will we be embarassed again? Qualifying should be easy enough now that playboy Sven has flowing off to Mexico with his tips on dealing with the birds, and Steve McClaren did everyone a favor by falling off a cliff (That is what happened, right?... I honeslty can hardly remember the guy, thankfully.).
Fabio Capello needs to right their wrongs. He can do so by taking a page out of the books of Jose Mourinho, Rafa Benítez, Sir Alex Ferguson, and, now, Luiz Felipe Scolari.
The aforementioned quartet, led by the Special One, have sparked a philosophical trend with emphasis on defensive midfielders and creative central midfielders the last few years.
Luckily, England has both in spades.
Chelsea, Liverpool, and Manchester United have thrived with diminished width and one striker up top. That fits England's personnel perfectly. Isn't coaching about making the most of what you've got?
Then what is England's "Winning Eleven?" Most importantly, it starts with anyone but Paul Robinson at goalkeeper.
A line of Richards, Terry, Ferdinand, and Cole at the back is proven, athletic, and offers more offensive firepower than most national teams can come up with.
As relayed above, Chelsea and Liverpool have demonstrated two defensive midfielders can work together. Gareth Barry and Hargreaves are good ones.
A three-man attacking midfield of Frank Lampard, Steven Gerrard, and Wayne Rooney looks impressive on paper and must work. Each make great runs through the box, can pass, get back on defense, and play with a bit of flair. Rooney is always slotted as a forward, but he's proven incapable of playing alone on an island a la Didier Drogba.
Stop right there! Where's the width? Barry, Gerrard, and Rooney all like to roam into space. If everyone is centralized, I'd argue that it'll allow them more room to pick their spots and effectively sneak outside from time-to-time.
Chelsea manage this trick with a five-man midfield of John Obi Mikel, Lampard, Deco, Michael Ballack, and Joe Cole. Liverpool wanted to play with Javier Mascherano, Barry, Gerrard, Ryan Babel, and Yossi Benayoun, before going traditional with Robbie Keane. A quintet of Barry, Hargreaves, Lampard, Ballack, and Rooney is at least their equal.
Striker please! Bleh. Yuck. Tavaris Jackson-like slim pickings here, and there really is no right answer.
Michael Owen cannot be relied on, Peter Crouch looks disturbing out there, Alan Smith is another Emile Heskey, Andrew Johnson has speed, but little else, Theo Walcott doesn't even play striker (let alone play typically) for his club, and Gabriel Agbonlahor is a few years away.
True, true. So we're left with Jermain Defoe, Dean Ashton, and Darren Bent. In other words, no matter who England select, Italy, Spain, Brazil, Argentina, the Netherlands, and Germany have five better options.
That shouldn't depress the British, though, because Portugal similarly lacks Champions League quality strikers, yet seemingly everyone picks them to win every tournament they're in (including this dumbass writer).
David James Richards, Ferdinand, Terry, Cole Hargreaves, Barry Lampard, Gerrard, Rooney Ashton? Looks pretty Chelsea to me... Exactly! Lampard and Gerrard can focus on offense only with that imposing six-man defense behind them. If England manage to score first, they can pull back and grind out victories as per the trend in club football these days.
Or they can play Heskey, lose to Croatia, and eventually miss out on World Cup 2010 while a nation boos... and boos... and boos. And boozes.
Why can't a middle East oil oligarch just buy the England national team and pimp it out with Igor Akinfeev, Dimitar Berbatov, Robinho, Kaka, and Fernando Torres?
Couple quick links to help get you through this mundane slate of college football games:
A tidy summer transfer recap from Norman Hubbard. Sunderland's next expenditure was greater than Chelsea, Arsenal, Manchester United, and Tottenham's combined. [ESPN Soccernet]
Cornrows has the scoop on Danny Granger's trip to Indonesia. I wonder where Jamaal Tinsley took a goodwill trip to this summer? [Indy Cornrows]
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