There’s no need for the Scottish football league to kick-off on Saturday. Cancel it. The season can’t* get better or more more amusing than this. *OK, it can. It would be too perfect, even too much to hope for, if Celtic were also turfed out of europe in their first match. Ah, sweet, sweet schadenfreude how I love you so…
James Hamilton from the superb (if infuriatingly-often-on-hiatus) football blog More than Mind Games has a question that merits pondering: If you had to name one player who, in your opinion, epitomised the history of English football (not necessarily its ethos or its greatest moment or its values), who would that be? He doesn’t have to be English, but he does have to exemplify the way the game has developed in England. Good question! One that will take time to answer. In the same vein, then, using the same rules, which player could most reasonably be considered the epitomy of Scottish football? Or Italian?
Memo to the Associated Press and the New York Times: describing Fernando Torres as a “slumping striker” and claiming that he had “been invisible in this tournament” makes you look like a bunch of chumps. Better, you know, to say nothing than expose yourselves in this fashion*. Anyway, having written this genially mean-spirited blast against the Germans, I’m obviously delighted that Spain triumphed. For once the best team won and now, of all the “major” european powers it’s England that have gone the longest without hauling in a significant trophy… *This sort of ignorance, of course, infuriates American soccer fans who do know their stuff, appreciating, like, that goals aren’t
The New Republic, America’s most football-friendly political magazine, asked me to write something mean about the Germans: Today’s question then, is: Does Germany’s record in international soccer confirm: (a) the absence of God, (b) the capriciousness of justice, or (c) the futility of romance? Or: (d) all of the above? Full piece here. Prieviously, in a more generous mood, I defended David Beckham for TNR here.
Euro 2008 starts today and happily we’re spared the agony of watching Scotland play. The BBC are doing their best to persuade us that even a tournament “without England” might be worth watching even though most sentient people appreciate that England’s failure to qualify actually enhances the tournament, especially for the TV viewer who might have an increased chance of intelligent, astute, imaginative, perceptive TV coverage. Not so fast my friends! Here’s the BBC’s Gary Lineker explaining why he thinks Spain can win the tournament: It is open, but I am going for those perennial underachievers in Spain…the feeling is that [the] team chokes, but they have done well in
Even I, a fan of robust tabloid journalism, have to wonder if this might be going just a little bit far… The Guardian reports: Poland’s national football coach apologised yesterday after a tabloid newspaper ran a gruesome depiction of him holding the severed heads of Germany’s national trainer and team captain and demanded he slaughter them at the forthcoming Euro 2008 championships. The photomontage in Super Express of Poland’s Dutch coach, Leo Beenhakker, clutching the bloodied heads of Michael Ballack and Joachim Löw provoked outrage in Germany and threatened to overshadow the match between the two group B teams on Sunday. The picture ran alongside the caption: “Leo, Give us
Are Paris Saint-Germain the worst football team in Europe? This obviously depends upon how one measures or defines “worst”. PSG, despite another appalling season, would (thankfully) still be expected to defeat, say, Shamrock Rovers. But in a pound-for-pound sense is there a more pathetic club in europe? I’s not just that they only narrowly avoided relegation this season, it’s that they continue to squander resources. Even when they were owned by Canal Plus, PSG under-performed. Indeed, since the club was formed in 1970 they’ve only won the French championship twice (in 1986 and 1994), despite being one of the richest clubs in France and the only major club in Paris.
And amazingly, it has nothing to do with Hillary Clinton. No, it’s Rangers’ Christian Dailly who, having seen the referee keep the Ibrox club’s SPL title ambitions alive yesterday had the effrontery, the gall, the unmitigated audacity to claim: that since arriving at Ibrox in January he has formed the impression that Rangers are more often on the wrong end of decisions. “There have been lots of decisions not given that should have been given in our favour,” he said. “It looks like a couple went our way today, but that is not the norm.” Words fail me. American readers may consider that this is akin to Michael Jordan complaining
Ah, apparently we’re supporting Poland this summer. Good to get that decided early. AFTER 10 years of being unable to cheer on their favourites at the finals of a big football tournament, the Tartan Army is switching sides to back Poland at this summer’s European championships. The supporters’ organisation – with 1,500 members and dozens of branches in the country – has thrown its weight behind the eastern European side after all the home nations were knocked out of the competition. Since 2004, more than 40,000 Poles have come to Scotland and the Tartan Army foot soldiers have vowed to show solidarity with their new neighbours. Pubs and restaurants in
Milan beat Inter 2-1* and, well, just watch the rest of it yourself. Great stuff. Thank you to Tiziano Crudeli… Milan 2-1 Inter commentaire Italienby t_m Hat-tip: Andrew and Rizzo Sports. *An important result, in fairness, since it puts the Rossoneri in line for a Champions’ League place next season. Tough week for Fiorentina…
John J Miller at The Corner: I’ve always had some fondness for the NFL’s Baltimore Ravens because their team name is a literary reference. Last weekend, while visiting the in-laws in South Carolina, I went to an NCAA baseball game featuring the Coastal Carolina Chanticleers. Literary references in team names don’t get much better than that. Up to a point Lord Copper. Turns out the Chanticleers have only been so-nicknamed since the 1960s when the University tired of being just one more bunch of Trojans. Still, not bad but not nearly as good, obviously, as Heart of Midlothian FC, Edinburgh’s finest. Now if only the club favoured a more literate,
Which footballer offers his club the best value-for-money? Easy. It’s Lionel Messi. Why? According to this Portuguese calculation he’s not one of the 50 best-paid footballers in the world. Lucky Barcelona. Here’s the top five (the first figure is their monthly salary in euros, the second their annual remuneration). You’ll notice that two of these players are not like the other three. 1. Ricardo Kaka AC Milan 750.000 € 9.000.000 €2. Ronaldinho FC Barcelona 710.000 € 8.520.000 €3. Frank Lampard Chelsea FC 680.000 €
Ah Philadelphia, the city where they booed Santa Claus. And, if these lads are anything to go by, also the city where Major League Soccer should put its next team. In a word: quality: These are the Sons of Ben. They are the hardcore supporters of Philadelphia’s Major League Soccer team. Possibly their best chant is: “We’ve won as many cups as you, Metro, Metro. We’ve won as many cups as you, and we don’t have a team.” Philadelphia doesn’t have an MLS team yet. As the DC United fan website screaming-eagles.com puts it, the Sons of Ben have “banded together to twist the Field of Dreams mantra from ‘Build
The always excellent fitba blog More than Mind Games has a great story about football in the fog here, but it’s not as good as this one, that became the basis for a Radio Scotland play five or six years ago: IT IS not, on the face of it, a perfect scenario for radio. A football match so shrouded in fog that the commentator can’t see the game. Players who can’t see as far as their bootlaces. Conditions so bad that many are not aware that the action is over for 10 minutes after the final whistle. But throw in the Second World War, a need to keep the Nazis
Radley, Radley… Please. This isn’t the “British Olympic soccer team” giving the Nazi salute in 1938, it’s the English soccer team. You may think this a minor matter, but I assure you it makes all the difference in the world. But yes, it’s rotten that the British Olympic Association should be wanting to gag athletes who might – albeit improbably – feel like protesting China’s, er, mixed human rights record from doing so.
Not to intrude into private grief or anything, but how can you children not be amused by this? Croatia rose to the occasion in their crucial Euro 2008 defeat of England – after an apparent X-rated gaffe by an English opera singer at Wembley. Tony Henry belted out a version of the Croat anthem before the 80,000 crowd, but made a blunder at the end. He should have sung ‘Mila kuda si planina’ (which roughly means ‘You know my dear how we love your mountains’). But he instead sang ‘Mila kura si planina’ which can be interpreted as ‘My dear, my penis is a mountain.’ UPDATE: Commenter Damir suggests a
‘Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome tae your gory bed, Or tae Victorie! ‘Now’s the day, and now’s the hour: See the front o’ battle lour… Scotland vs Italy, Hampden Park, 1200 (EST), 17/11/07. Game on. UPDATE for DC readers: The Lucky Bar on Connecticut Avenue and N St NW is showing the game.
“For all those whose cares have been our concern, the work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dream shall never die.”
I hadn’t paid any attention to the women’s World Cup until the US manager Greg Ryan decided it was a sensible notion to switch goalkeepers before yesterday’s semi-final against Brazil, dropping first choice Hope Solo (great name!) and recalling the 36 year old Briana Scurry. Off-hand I can’t think of any comparable goalie switch. When Alex Ferguson famously dropped Jim Leighton and promoted Les Sealey for an FA Cup final replay his decision was at least based on what her perceived as Leighton’s loss of confidence. But Ryan had no such excuse since no-one, not even the manager, pretended that Solo had done anything wrong. Instead what seems to have
No words required, mes amis. Peter Martin’s commentary for Radio Clyde is almost as good as the goal itself.