Morning. I’ll do my best to squeeze out some Europa themed brain dribbles later in the day (sorry if that sounded facetious- I’m actually quite looking forward to it) but first news from our old pals at Philosophy Football. You may remember these sartorial whizzes- amongst other iconic football t-shirts- as the ones behind those rather delightful Danny Blanchflower numbers I was seen to be pedalling on here a few months back. Anyway, they’ve come up with another corker and there’s one to be had for one of you desperately lucky lot. Here’s what words they did:
“LET’S KICK BLATTER OUT OF FOOTBALL
From vote-rigging to covering-up corruption, via advocating tight-fitting kits for women footballers, selling the game short to sponsors and now fighting racism with a handshake. (All ‘allegedly’ of course, for the sake of our lawyers). It’s surely time for Blatter to go.
Philosophy Football’s design is a shameless pastiche of the brilliant Kick it Out Campaign’s logo . SPECIAL LOW-PRICE CAMPAIGN T SHIRT. JUST£14.99 Available in sizes small-XXL from www.philosophyfootball.com”
In which year was Sepp Blatter first elected as FIFA president?
Best of luck!
My word. This is all going rather well. A one goal swing at the Sports Direct Thunderdome last month and that would’ve been a perfect ten winning streak since we were duped by both hues of Manchester at the season’s start. As it is we’re looking at a twenty-eight point haul from a possible thirty. An extraordinary return. For the sake of aesthetics that’s WWWWDWWWWW. And, for the sake of all those dreamers out there, that’s championship winning form. Lordy heckingtons. What has become of us? We’ve just plum forgotten how to lose.
Talking of absent-mindedness. Who remembers Vedran Ćorluka? Bearded fellow. Runs in the style of someone wishing to lay an egg. What with Kyle Walker being all brilliant since his return from the wilderness, it looks as if the Croatian anti-speedster is feeling somewhat overlooked and underappreciated by those in the know. As such, he’s declared himself fit and ready for a (not so) swift exit. Destination as yet has to be filed under ‘unknown’ but I’ve a feeling those rumours about interest from Juventus might not be so forthcoming this time around. But stranger things have happened, as they say.
I for one think he’s a decent enough sort; versatile, solid, tidy in possession. Measured up to Walker, of course, he’s slower than cliff erosion and only marginally better defensively- but as an understudy, as much as he’d probably not like to be labelled as such, he’s first rate. Or should it be second rate? I’ll have to check that.
**Terribly sad news about Gary Speed. He seemed like one of the good guys. RIP**
West Brom, then. Uncle Woy caused somewhat of a hoo-hah within the Baggies’ dressing room this week by publicly questioning the legitimacy of striker Peter Odemwingie’s duff knee. I just can’t get the bugger on the pitch, said the softly-spoken Hawthorns supremo. Peter, in a move very much a sign of the times, responded by posting an image of his knackered joints on Twitter. Look, see. It’s swollen up like an octopus’ head, for chirssakes! Not what you’d call subtle from the Nigerian net-botherer, I suppose, but he probably has every right to feel a bit miffed. Not all of these chaps are using the treatment room like their own personal day spa, you know, Roy. Or so I’m told.
Apropos to nothing in particular, Odemwingie’s declared himself fit for the weekend’s visit of Spurs- he’s in the squad, at least- and between him and the excellent Shane Long (ha. Slong) The Brom are packing ample heat with which to cause us a problem or two. Chris Brunt’s beginning to play well again, too, after having the startling fortune of being removed from my fantasy football team.
For Tottenham there’s rumours abound that Roman Pavlyuchenko might be in for a rare start. With Van der Vaart and the mighty J-Dizzle both doubts, we’re likely peering down the barrel of a good ol’ fashion meat and potato four-four-two; with the Russian and Adebayor pairing up for the first time in their colourful careers. Notwithstanding any ninety-second cameos Pav might’ve been treated to since early September. Even then I’m drawing a blank.
Anyhoo. Your predictions, if you’d be so kind. Apart from trees of green and red roses, too- I see goals. And plenty of ‘em. 6-3 or something mental like that.
Lookalikes are hilarious. I think we can all agree on that. Here’s professional footballer/scoundrel, John Terry, looking exactly like a blob fish, the most miserable fish in the sea. You heard me. Exactly.
What a joy to watch that was. Full of life, effervescence and wonder. It moved, it didn’t move, it moved some more; it made the opposition’s efforts look like wet spaghetti in comparison. A shining light, a colossal effort. Disco Benny sported one of the finest haircuts in the history of, well, everything on Monday night. I could’ve stuffed a mattress with that mother and still had some left over to insulate my loft. Quite extraordinary.
The football on show wasn’t too dreadful, either. Much has been made of Villa’s daft tactics and general incompetence on the night (the ploy of sticking Emile Heskey on the wing smacks of a manager who’s either desperately thin on numbers or brain damaged) but that shouldn’t throw a wet blanket over what was a fairly terrific evening for the chaps in lilywhite and navy trim.
It’s one thing to say a team were so bad they made the other team look good; but quite another to say one team were so good they made their adversaries look like eleven bags of compost and twice as immobile. It was slick, gung-ho and downright abusive from Arry’s lot; the kind of performance that makes your heart sing and your innards bubble. Bale, Modric, Parker, Adebayor, Kaboul; I shan’t take up your time with a roll call. They all did splendidly. Have a look at this picture and tell me you don’t just want to bundle them, ruffle their hair and tell them they’re all doing just fine. We’re up to third, playing well, and, thanks to Benny, looking like absolute players(z) while we’re at it.
**Wishing a happy Thanksgiving to all our listeners across the pond. You’re all just fabulous.**