Sidewinder

Already this Premier League season we’ve had a couple of pretty decent missile-throwing incidents, but does anyone else think as a whole this country is getting into a bit of a creative rut? Come on people, try a bit harder, it’s always bloody coins! What we at STT are looking for is a bit more passion and situational invention; you know, the kind of spirit that just says “I am so pissed off right now that I’m just going to throw my son’s PSP at that prick Lampard.”

Now Germans don’t have a lot going for them generally, but what they do do quite well is show complete disregard when it comes to missiles at football matches. This past weekend Frank Baumann, the Werder Bremen captain, was struck by a mobile phone battery lobbed from the stands in a vicious incident during the infamous ‘Nord Derby’ with rivals Hamburg. The German Football Association today launched a probe into the incident, and Hamburg face a huge fine if found guilty of failing to control their fans, although Baumann himself has decided not to press charges against the culprit. He told sports paper Bild: “I don’t have headaches anymore, only a light pressure pain,” which is good I guess.

So he is number one in our list here, followed (in no particular order) by 15 of our other favourite missile-throwing incidents from around the world. Well, from around Europe anyway. If we’ve missed anything else great please drop us a line in the usual way:

1. Baumann was struck in the head by a phone battery; in this photo you can see Claudio Pizarro handing the thrown object to the referee.

2. In a game against Freiburg back in 2000, then-Bayern keeper Oliver Kahn was hit in the head by a golf ball causing quite a lot of damage around his previously beautiful face.

3. A couple of years ago now AC Milan's keeper Dida was quite famously hit by a firework during the Champions League quarter final against bitter rivals Inter Milan. Unsurprisingly the game was then abandoned.

4. Back in the 80s they knew the score. Here the Bayern keeper Jean-Marie Pfaff is handing the referee a 2-foot metal bar which was thrown at him during the European Cup semi final in 1987 with Real Madrid. He claims that Real fans also threw actual knives at him. Now that’s hardcore.

5. And here is another Bayern keeper, Sepp Maier, brandishing a knife to the ref that was thrown at him by a teenage Essen fan at the Georg-Melches stadium in 1971.

6. Here is some chap called Alexander Laas bleeding quite a lot after being hit by a drumstick thrown at him by a Cologne fan in December 2005. Another pretty accurate shot, nearly got the poor chap in the eye.

7. And Oliver Kahn makes another appearance, this time after being hit by a chestnut while playing for some team called KSC in 1993. It’s almost as if he’s a cock and everyone hates him.

8. In maybe the most famous incident of premeditated missiling, an actual pig's head was thrown at Luis Figo by fans of his former-employers Barcelona in 2002 after he moved to bitter rivals Real Madrid.

9. The unlucky linesman enjoying a lie down here is a Dutch bloke called Kai Voss, who was knocked out by a beer glass while referee-assisting in Stuttgart a couple of years ago. Pretty unpleasant I think you’ll agree, but he won’t give another dodgy offside against Stuttgart will he? WILL HE?!

10. An amazing La Liga-based incident here, with Spanish referee Miguel Angel Ayza picking up am empty whiskey bottle that was thrown at him during a game between Athletico Madrid and Sevilla.

11. Swedish referee Anders Frisk was hit in the head by a lighter while walking off at half-time during a game between AS Roma and Dynamo Kiev in 2004. He had stirred great unrest with the home faithful after sending off Philippe Mexes, and Kiev were subsequently awarded a 3 – 0 win after the match had to be abandoned.

12. Before he ruined his promising career by taking over at Spurs, Juande Ramos was hit in the head with a full bottle of water in a match between Real Betis and his Sevilla side. He was unconscious for 11 minutes and the match was obviously also abandoned.

13. Ok, now we start getting seriously creative. Back in the Milan derby in 2001, Inter casuals genuinely managed to somehow smuggle a scooter into the terraces and subsequently threw it down onto the pitch. Good effort lads.

14. Fans tearing apart their own stadium is pretty dumb, but isn’t that scarce around the world. However, we decided to pick up Red Star Belgrade’s fans doing it because as part of the same riot they also just indiscriminantly starting stabbing people, regardless of affiliation. Nice guys.

15. Probably my favourite incident on the list actually took place during the same match where Juande Ramos was hit with the bottle of water. It makes the list again though because, in addition to throwing several bottles, Betis fans also chucked a cat onto the pitch! Why you would think to take your cat with you to the game is beyond me, but kudos, the bar has been set pretty high.

16. Finally then, and I can’t find any documented proof of this, but I remember I few years a fan was arrested after hurling a huge bunch of keys onto the pitch at an opposition player while he took a corner. Nice idea genius, how exactly are you going to drive home / get into your house / unlock your wife from her cage? Also, having your name and address on the key fob probably wasn’t the smartest move.

I’m a WAG, Get Me Out of Here!

The great thing about WAGs is that left to their own devices they just become primal nymphomaniacs, incapable of anything approaching rational thought without either a man or a camera to tell them what to do. At least that’s how The Daily Fascist views them anyway, with “sex-starved” Carly Zucker and Nicola McLean apparently already falling apart in some jungle as part of some pointless reality TV show. The pair have reportedly been growing close (see where this is going?) after confiding in each other about how much they miss their men.

The delicious Zucker, somehow engaged to Chelsea brain donor Joe Cole, fantasised about what she would do when she got home to him: “Oh, I can't wait to jump into bed and feel him. I want to get my hands on his buff body. He’s so soft. I just want to be touching him and kissing him,” she drooled. The slightly less classy topless model McLean, dating the slightly less glamorous Peterborough United player Tommy Williams, sighed: “Oh, don't get me started. I've been thinking about that too!” The 32G-canned blonde continued: “He's in for a real treat when I get out of here. This is the longest I've ever gone without sex with Tommy and I really miss him.”

Nicola and Carly seemed to hold each other’s gaze at this moment, perhaps a little bit longer than one might suspect of two women who’ve only known each other a fortnight. “Do you ever feel like you wanna just let it all go while you’re out here? Take a break from reality and everything at home?” Carly asked her, the moonlight embodying her words with a serene power. “We both miss our men so much,” Nicola said, gently massaging Carly’s back, “but they can’t be here, and we both have needs.” She paused. “They’d understand wouldn’t they?” Carly stared deeply into Nicola’s eyes and seemed to dive into the luxurious pools that were her irises, before subtly arcing her head towards the busty temptress and whispering: “make love to me; make me feel like a woman again.”

The pair shared a longing kiss, and Carly drizzled her tongue along Nicola’s soft lips as she manoeuvered her hands around the blonde’s ample bosom. Carly let out an almost imperceptable moan as her legs slowly parted, and Nicola cradled the back of her head and began softly kissing her neck. Carly’s whole body tingled with anticipation, as Nicola’s fingertips danced down her firm stomach and milky thighs, before confidently sliding her bikini aside and holding Carly’s moist and engorged…

WOW, sorry about that folks, I don’t know where that came from. People in the office are looking at me in quite a strange way now.

Anyway, in other Zucker-related news, it’s actually really hard being rich apparently, so I’m happy I live essentially in a bin, with no food in the fridge and a rising tide of septic water in the kitchen sink: “Money can be a burden, that’s why I got stressed last year,” she lamented. “I had too much too soon. I could choose what I wanted and so I ended up indecisive. I had a massive house that I couldn’t control or clean, it took all day.” Boo-fucking-hoo love.

Besides, Strictly Come Dancing’s on Tonight…

Anyone who knows anyone who supports one of the top-4 teams in this country will have undoubtedly heard time and time again just how frustrating it is not being able to get a match ticket. You see, for plenty of Premier League clubs the demand far outweighs the supply, and so they have to set up ridiculously complicated ‘supporter reward’ schemes, where they measure how ‘big’ a fan you are and only allow you to buy tickets accordingly. Thing is though, you’d expect that when actually offered the opportunity to finally go to Stamford Bridge or the Emirates, you’d jump at the chance, even if it is only to watch the b-team play Scunthorpe in the Carling Cup, or a pointless Champions League game when you’ve already qualified.

However, there were almost a thousand unsold seats at the Emirates this week for their clash with Dynamo Kiev, which makes you somewhat question the commitment of some of their so-called fans. Given the current run of form, the injuries, Bendtner’s boots, and let’s face it, the arctic temperatures in London at the moment, I can kind of excuse this though.

But what is horrendous is that a couple of days before the game, there are still tickets at Stamford Bridge for Chelsea’s clash with Arsenal. It’s an old rivalry, a city rivalry, and I thought, a pretty passionate rivalry for the Premier League upper echelons. For such a rich club, Stamford Bridge has a pretty modest capacity of 42,500, and despite ticket prices and the fact it’s on TV, there should be no way in hell that you’d be able to buy a ticket even a month in advance! It’s obviously not my place to accuse supporters of the top-4 clubs as being less passionate or less committed, because obviously every team has its die-hards and its fair-weathers, but still this bothers me.

Two of the biggest and most famous teams in the country are playing each other, with a lot at stake for both in the current climate, and still people aren’t sure if they want to go see it live. Maybe that’s the point though, and one we have often lamented on STT before. Since when did watching football on TV become preferable to actually being there and feeling it? There are some things in life where cost has to go out of the window if you care that much, so I don’t buy the pricing excuse. If I can go watch my team play, I need to be there, regardless of how far away it is or how late I get home. And this feeling is only multiplied when it’s against one of the top teams, because deep down I simply couldn’t live with myself if we’d beaten, say, Arsenal and I wasn’t there with everyone else to experience it.

Do you just go numb to big clashes when you see them week in, week out for years? Is it really that easy to be blasé looking at a fixture list, and see Manchester United and Liverpool, interspersed with European ‘obligations’ against the likes of Barcelona and Inter Milan? I don’t know, maybe I guess.

Rock and/or Roll

For those readers who have only ever known life in the Premier League, the name Gareth Ainsworth might not mean anything, but anyone who’s ever followed lower league football will have certainly crossed paths with the current QPR player/coach. You see, he’s from the old school, back when men were men, and training consisted purely of chips and a yard of ale. With a career spanning two decades, twelve separate clubs and more than 350 league appearances, you have to respect the guy, especially in the land of overpaid prima-donnas we currently inhabit. Anyway, find all the info you need on the guy over at his own official website (last updated in 2002 by the way) because we have more pressing matters to attend to than a trip down memory lane.

Since he tried his hand at management, Ainsworth has changed. He has had a look around and thought “all these other British managers are pussies,” so rather than systematically beat them up one-by-one, he’s gone the Slaven Bilic route and started a kick ass rock band. The crew are quite obliquely named Dog Chewed the Handle, but have enough long hair, leather and spunk to give anyone a run for their money, even the reinvented Guns and Roses. The Spoiler have managed to dig out some actual gig footage, from a recent headlining set in an undisclosed Middlesex Pub.

Firstly, enjoy Gareth and the boys knocking out The Animals’ classic We Gotta Get Out of This Place, to a somewhat lukewarm reception:

Next, it’s bang up to date, with the Kaiser Chiefs’ I Predict a Riot (excuse the ropey camera work and sound quality):

Finally, here DCTH are with another song that I recognise but am probably too young to actually know:

Despite the bizarre (and apparently involuntary) pelvic thrusts throughout that last performance, and a frankly terrifying response from the older and larger ladies in attendance, I think they’re actually pretty good! Ainsworth has a pretty sweet Chris Cornell-esque growl going on, and as long as he doesn’t start trying to write his own songs, DCTH might go all the way to the top. Yep, that’s right, X-Factor 2009 here we come!

Are You Trying To Mug Me Off in Front of my Pals??!!

So it’s been a little while since we’ve covered good old fashioned football hooliganism, mainly because there has been a real lack of decent action in the press of late. However, do not fear that as a country we are softening, rather instead that the media big-wigs just have more pressing crusades at the moment. Everyone that had ever even heard of Baby P before he died should be considered public property and available for mass lynching and general torture by the way; in fact, why don’t we all just meet up with burning stakes this Saturday and go door-to-door in Haringey? Anyway, according to figures announced today by the Home Office, there were an impressive 3,842 arrests made for football-related violence at domestic and international matches last season in England and Wales. For all you mathematics heads out there, that’s 1.21 arrests per game. Sometimes my heart just swells with national pride.

More importantly though, the figures also revealed how many court orders were dished out to individual club’s fans, and I bet you won’t be able to guess the top three. Ok, being facetious doesn’t really work over the internet, so here are the bronze, silver and gold medal winners:

1. Leeds United (152 orders)

2. Cardiff City (136 orders)

3. Millwall (117 orders)

Bad news for some of the other established firms from back in the day that clearly have work to do. We’re looking for a big push in 2009 from the Birmingham Zulus, the Chelsea headhunters, the Stoke Naughty Forty, the Portsmouth 6.57 Crew and the West Ham Inner City Firm. Step your game up boys, you slipping.

Thanks to The Spoiler for the heads up and the ace Cardiff picture.

Gameweek 14 – Mainline

Wow, what a boring weekend of football. The big-4 managed precisely zero goals between them, but take nothing away from Newcastle, Aston Villa and Fulham who all battled hard for their goalless draws. Liverpool welcomed back Fernando Torres, who looked bright in spells, but overall a draw was probably a fair return for Fulham’s graft. Chelsea found an inspired Shay Given too good for them at Stamford Bridge, while Aston Villa perhaps could’ve had a late penalty after Vidic man-handled a flying Agbonlahor to the ground, only for referee Chris Foy to see no infringement. Manchester City meanwhile produced perhaps the performance of the weekend at home to Arsenal, creating chances for fun as the Gunners’ season continues to crumble around its captain-less ship.

Bolton and West Ham got great little away wins at Middlesbrough and Sunderland respectively, while Harry Redknapp’s Spurs are back on track after a decent performance against Blackburn, who look pretty clueless at the moment despite some quality individuals. These three results are systematic at how exciting the season has been so far, with inconsistency so epidemic that anyone outside of the top 3 believes they truly can beat anyone else.

Finally, in what Paul Merson reasonably described as literally the worst match he’d ever seen, newly-promoted Stoke took the points over a struggling West Brom team who must think about re-evaluating their passing ethic to be successful. Kudos to Stoke for scoring with a non-Rory Delap throw-in scenario though.

Game of the Week – Portsmouth vs Hull City

Perhaps the most exciting game this weekend came at Fratton Park where Hull's never-say-die spirit was again in evidence as Phil Brown's men twice came from a goal down to force a decent draw at an always difficult away ground. Glen Johnson’s screamer was the highlight, and Pompey seemed to be cruising, until the 39-year-old STT hero Dean Windass popped up late on to force a Pamarot own goal to earn the Tigers a great point.

Player(s) of the Week – Shaun Wright-Phillips, Robinho and Steven Ireland

This triumvirate have been truly phenomenal this season so far, and no more so than this past weekend where a flat Arsenal team were brushed aside by the pace and directness of a free-flowing City side. Ireland is playing the best football of his career by a long way, SWP is back to his best, and Robinho is, well, he’s a bit tasty isn’t he.

Goal of the Week – Glen Johnson

Most weeks Robinho's quite breathtaking chip would have taken the plaudits, but when a right-back smacks a left-foot volley from 30 yards into the top corner, you have to give him props. See it for yourself about halfway into the match highlights above. Better than Bentley’s cracker against Arsenal a few weeks ago? Just maybe…

Shit Goal of the Week – Kevin Davies

We’ve already seen some excellently shambolic goals this season, but this Davies opener at the Riverside this weekend is surely up there. Steinsson met Matty Taylor’s freekick with a powerful header, only for it to clip the back of Davies’ head and deflect into the net. Played for and got, as they say.

Miss of the Week – Valon Behrami

You know, ‘miss of the week’ might be giving the Swiss wing-back a little bit too much credit actually, because in reality this is simply one of the worst misses of all time. Craig Bellamy rounds the keeper, rolls it into Behrami four yards out, and somehow he manages to lift the ball onto the crossbar. Truly exceptional incompetence.

Save of the Week – Shay Given

Given has to be one of the most underrated servants in the history of the Premier League, and once again proved his worth as Newcastle slammed the door shut on Chelsea for the first time this season. The pick of his performance was early on in the first half, when Florent Malouda picked out Frank Lampard with a delightful chip into the penalty area. Super Frank powered a header low down to Given’s right, but somehow the Irishman premeditated the direction and clawed it away.

Whinge of the Week – Arsene Wenger

Sometimes you have to genuinely wonder whether Arsene Wenger is watching the same game. After seeing his side crumble 3 – 0 away at Eastlands, in a match they probably should’ve lost by twice that margin, Wenger only suggested that the result “flattered Manchester City.” To his credit Mark Hughes simply replied “I think Arsene’s maybe being a bit ungracious,” with a smile.

Dick of the Week – Nikolas Bendtner

As we predicted last week, Mr Bendtner did indeed wear pink boots this weekend at Eastlands. Surprisingly he was as useless as ever, and is still searching for that illusive second goal of the season. That’s right, he has as many league goals as Titus Bramble.

More Over Dreamworks

We at STT take great pleasure when football crosses over into cinema, mainly because the results tend to be just so ridiculous. This is no exception.

Constructing my perfect movie, there are certain elements that must be there: clever pun in the title, East End of London setting, larger-than-life ‘gangstas,’ ex-convict-trying-to-go-straight-but-only-after-this-final-job narrative, an incongruous appearance by an American rapper, Danny Dyer playing Danny Dyer, and Executive Producer credits for Premier League footballers. In case you haven’t guessed, this latest effort from director Alex de Rakoff (writer / director of something called The Calcium Kid which amusingly starred Orlando Bloom as a boxer) ticks literally every box.

So, here are the specifics: the flick is called DEAD MAN RUNNING, started shooting today down the road from my actual manor in Stepney, London, and stars Danny Dyer as an ex-con who has to raise £100,000 in 24 hours to pay off a loan shark, brilliantly cast as 50 Cent. According to industry gossip, Dyer “races from the dog tracks of East London to the drug scene of Manchester in order to raise the money, playing as fast and dirty as he has to in order to get the money before the deadline.” I’m out of breath just reading that.

And pulling the strings behind this masterpiece is the dream team of Rio Ferdinand and Ashley Cole, who were apparently rinsed for a couple of million each to finance this abortion. Strange that they should choose to pump their hard-earned moolah into something that will probably make Rise of the Foot Soldier look like The Long Good Friday though. With their combined intellect and cultural awareness, wouldn’t you expect them instead to bankroll a modern interpretation of Petronius’ incomplete Roman existential novel The Satyricon?

You know, this would all be hilarious if it wasn’t just so ultimately depressing for myriad reasons. First and foremost, what must other British filmmakers think of the continuing slew of sub-Guy Ritchie crap? It’s a sad state of affairs when someone as talented as Shane Meadows has to grovel at the feet of Eurostar to finance his latest picture, and yet these two idiots can get anything made by snapping their fingers, just because they want to meet 50 Cent.

The worst part of this whole debacle though is that the settings of London and Manchester have clearly not been chosen at random, and I fully expect cameos from both brain donors. Rio will presumably be playing an ‘amusingly-named’ character along the lines of Mitch the Merker, while Ashley Cole will have a ‘post-modern’ character trait of being sick on girls’ floors during what, for him, passes as sex.

So when these clowns can’t be bothered to play for their country, they’re treading water and reading scripts. And when they’re complaining about having to donate 10 quid a week to nurses, they’re actually just skimming the top off their wages to promote more insulting English stereotypes.

I despair.

One Month To Go

As silly-dressing-up season dawns on us, we at STT are looking forward to more hilarious Christmas party antics involving superhero costumes and gang-rape. Now most teams produce Christmas cards to mass-mail out to all club members, but Middlesbrough this year have pushed the boat out somewhat and produced an absolute cracker. The eagle-eyed viewers out there will notice Robert Huth as the tree, David Wheater and Emanuel Pogatetz as the elves, Justin Hoyte as the present and Adam Johnston as one of the reindeer.

One previously great effort was the above Spurs Christmas card from the mid 90s, where once again, those of you with keen eye-sight will be able to spot Justin Edinburgh , Dean Austin, Steve Carr and Andy Sinton clad in suits, Teddy Sheringham, manager Gerry Francis, assistant manager Roger Cross and Garry Mabbutt as the Beatles. Darren Anderton also makes an incongruous guest appearance next to them as Superman.

The bar is always set pretty high by individual efforts for Christmas bashes too, so enjoy some of our personal highlights shown below. The subtlety of the English language is unable to capture the feeling of joy I get from seeing Peter Crouch dressed as a huge parrott.