Wembley Chronicles

Ok, so 5 – 1 was a pretty flattering scoreline, but I guess at the end of the day, a win’s still a win I get quite bored of writing the same paragraphs over and over again about the national team failing to live up to expectations, even against poor opposition, but suffice to say that we are still yet to see any noticeably positive results of Fabio Capello’s appointment to England manager.

At any level, a match against tame opposition is a chance to flex those creative muscles that must often be stifled for the sake of competitiveness and professionalism, yet at Wembley on Saturday there was no swagger or invention from a side that must be feeling as good as they have done in years, coming off the 4 – 1 mauling of Croatia in Zagreb not too long ago now. Instead, it was back to trepidation, with few chances carved out in open play and some slightly worrying defensive mis-steps when put under not-a-lot of pressure.

By now I’m sure most people have seen selected ‘highlights,’ and obviously heard the ongoing debate about the booing of Ashley Cole, so there’s little point is continuing that discussion here. What is (maybe) interesting to talk about though is Wembley itself, because for me this was my first experience of the re-invented national stadium. Admittedly, it was a relatively pointless qualifier against a weak team that had no real chance of causing any problems, but still, the best part of 90,000 people trooped up to North-West London in the late Saturday sun.

The question then is: how can 90,000 football fans fail to make any noise whatsoever, and generate nothing approaching the atmosphere I’ve witnessed even at non-league grounds over the years? It’s a baffling conundrum because it wasn’t just quiet for a huge stadium, it was literally silent for most of the match, to the extent where I was answering my phone and the callers didn’t believe I was actually at Wembley. The commercialisation of football has been lamented on this site many times before, but here more so than anywhere else, the corporate machine is starkly evident. There’s a reminder over the tannoy when it’s 10 minutes to kick-off, in case you forgot why you were there; the sponsored England band, or even the tannoy again, signal when it’s ok to sing or chant; flags and horns are sold outside the ground, but you better not use them in the ground in case someone takes offence; and genuinely, if you stand up, or voice an opinion a bit too loudly, you’ll get a tap on the shoulder from a steward and asked politely to just enjoy the game.

Even the facilities aren’t up to much: you can’t buy alcohol at the ground; you can’t leave to have a cigarette; you have to argue to get any tap water; and the cheapest food other than crisps is a £4.50 pie that tastes worse than cat food. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an amazing venue, but that’s just it: a venue, rather than a football stadium. It’s completely soulless, and any dreams of making Wembley a fortress for the national side have surely already evaporated. Maybe for an FA Cup final, where two sets of 45,000 fans bait each other, and the passion is there on the pitch from the players, it’s different, but I’m sorry because based on Saturday’s showing, I certainly won’t be going back in a hurry.

Veritas

Sometimes we find unusual conduits for the truth. Buddhists for example have their core doctorines channelled through a disavowed prince who constantly tried starving himself to death. Hindus have an overweight man with four arms and an elephant’s head. Black people have Ice Cube. English football fans today found their font of all knowledge in ex-Blackburn Rovers captain Tim Sherwood, a man who you could have been excused for assuming was dead. With more than two international caps to his name, Sherwood certainly knows what he’s talking about, but cynicism aside, I think this probably as close to full disclosure as you will ever get from anyone inside the England camp:

“If Capello gets them in a room and says: ‘It will never come out from here and I will give you the perfect alibi - how many of you do not want to play for England anymore?’ 70 per cent of that squad would put their hands up. It is just so hard now to play. Not talking about the guys who have one, two, three or four caps - I am talking about the ones who have 36 or 40 caps. They would jack it in. Does Frank Lampard really want to be out there taking that sort of abuse? I don't think he does.”

Interesting stuff, now if only Capello would have the stones to do it and get rid of all the passengers that will be going through the motions tonight.

Baby Lions led by Crap Donkies

Ok, obviously the real action took place last night up at Mile End Stadium, but apparently some people seem to not really care about how amazing me and my friends are at 5-a-side and would rather hear about the bunch of over-rated no-hopers that we like to call the England national team. Well, that’ll just have to wait, because last night the mighty Boafista recorded their first win since gaining promotion to the Premier League, playing the league-leaders Passmasters comprehensively off the park in a 5 – 0 thrashing that certainly flattered them. Ok, admittedly they only had four players, but as tempers frayed as they seem to quite often these days, the presumably-ironically-named Passmasters well and truly bottled it. I can’t remember who scored but trust me they were all crackers.

Anyway, in case you didn’t hear, England drew 2 – 2 with the Czech Republic last night in an embarrassingly empty Wembley, as boos rained down on the so-called best that this country has to offer. Now put aside the score, because it was a friendly and ultimately no-one really cares. The manner of our play and team selection simply have to be brought into question, because under new manager Fabio Capello we were promised changes and forward momentum. Thus far, there have been no signs of this.

Surely the whole point of wiping the slate clean after the failure to qualify for Euro 2008 was to plan for the future and look ahead to World Cup 2010 with a view to not only qualify, but also to progress to the very latter stages. Answer me this then Mr Capello: why the fuck is David Beckham still even being entertained at this level? He is 33 now and there is literally no way he will be playing in South Africa at the age of 35. We were assured that under Capello there would be no room for sentiment; D Beck has his 100 caps and it is now time to shut the door. David Bentley has been without question the most impressive English performer at Premier League level over the last 18 months, and is surely a man to build a team for 2010 around. Why then was he only introduced with less than 15 minutes left on the clock? Other exciting young prospects such as Ashley Young, Gabriel Agbonlahor and James Milner simply must be given experience at this level, because certainly they too will play a crucial part in two years time. The likes of Stuart Downing and Jermain Jenas have been given their chance time and time again in recent memory with limited success, yet once again they were trotted out for 20 minutes or so.

The central midfield also continues to beguile. The Lampard/Gerrard conundrum is getting a bit boring to say the least, but I guess they continue to frustrate only because we lack genuine alternatives. Sure Gareth Barry is a central midfielder, but is he really that good? In any other country would he have reached the level of international contention? I think not. Looking to the under-21s what are our options however? Nigel Reo-Coker? Tom Huddlestone? Jesus Christ. It’s a sad state of affairs when you look elsewhere to the likes of Cesc Fabregas, Matthieu Flamini and Lassana Diarra. Only Manchester City’s Michael Johnson, at the age of 20, looks like he might have the potential to step-up and fill the central midfield boots, but at a club without regular European competition, will he be able to make the jump?

At the very back and the very front there is perhaps less to worry about, with our genuine quality at the top end, and plenty of talent coming through at the bottom. When though is it time to say goodbye to John Terry and Rio Ferdinand, and look Micah Richards, Steven Taylor and Jonathon Woodgate permanently? Similarly, how long do we give Wayne Rooney to pull himself out of this 18-month-long ‘blip’ of form at national level? His club form tells you all you need to know though perhaps; alongside world-class ability, he himself is also world-class, but alongside mediocrity, there’s only so much hard work and passion will achieve. Suitable replacements though, past the usual Crouchs and Defoes are a little bleak however, and the less said about Emile Heskey’s recall last night the better. Dean Ashton has the talent but can he stay fit for more than a week? Andy Johnson too has the raw materials, but like Michael Johnson he lacks good enough challenges week in, week out. If the hopes of the future of the nation are to be placed on the shoulders of Theo Woolcott then that is just too depressing for words.

What really smarts at the moment though, and what underlines perhaps more than is fair the disappointment of the national team, is the overwhelming success of the British Olympians. Take away the extortionate wages, egos and media pandering, and this country clearly can produce world-beating athletes. Is it that simple though? The Spanish and Italian leagues have as much money in them, and at international level those two countries have managed to win the two most recent major competitions. I don’t know, this argument rages in a circle indefinitely.

It seems then that once again we are left only with the crushing realisation that as a country we are just fundamentally shit at football. Great.

The Centurians

Ok so David Beckham was pretty much playing right-back last night because he doesn’t really have the legs to get up and down the pitch at full pace anymore, but this shouldn’t detract from the magnitude of his international achievement. Swelling with pride after the game, he rightly extolled the virtues of the 100 Cap Club he has now joined; namely Billy Wright, Sir Bobby Charlton, Bobby Moore and Peter Shilton. Now most of these guys were staring for club and country well before I was born, so this seemed like as good a time as any for a quick history lesson. No talking at the back!

Billy Wright was the first player in the world to reach the landmark of 100 appearances when he led out England against Scotland at Wembley in April 1959, and he held this record for more than a decade. An old-fashioned bruising centre-half, he was the epitome of English spirit and pride, also playing his entire club career of 20 years at Wolves where he finished with 541 appearances. Not only was he playing football during this period though, he was also in the army at the same time, serving from 1943 as a Physical Training Instructor and amazingly making more than 100 appearances in wartime football alone. In virtually every way he was the perfect footballing role model; captained his country a record 90 times, was never booked or sent off, and even married a pop star (Joy Beverley of the Beverley Sisters, whoever they are). He died in 1994 from stomach cancer aged 70 but his spirit lives on in an honorary stand and bronze statue at Molineux.

Next up is World Cup winner Sir Bobby Charlton, finishing with 106 caps, just one more than Wright managed. So much about Charlton was miraculous that it seems a bit insulting to just list a load of stats, but having survived national service and the Munich Air Disaster, he went on to become England’s leading ever goal-scorer with 49 international goals. During his 19 years with Manchester United, having been initially signed as a 15-year-old, he made a staggering 759 appearances and averaged a goal every three games in a variety of exemplary Busby Babes teams. With United he won the FA Cup, European Cup and several league titles, while also taking the honour of European Footballer of the Year in 1966 during the World Cup build-up. Obviously his World Cup win is the jewel in the crown, finally defeating West Germany in the final alongside his older brother Jack while hat-trick hero Geoff Hurst took most of the plaudits.

Surely no-one needs to be told that the successful 1966 team was captained by the iconic Bobby Moore, and that leads us nicely onto the next of our centurains. With 108 appearances (90 as captain), Moore is the most highly decorated outfield player in English history, so it seems appropriate that it was he who lifted our sole major international trophy 42 years ago now. An iconic gentleman and professional, he too achieved more than 500 club appearances for his home team, West Ham United, where he played for 16 years before ending his career in the newly set-up North American Soccer League in the 1970s. Unsurprisingly, a statue of the great man stands outside Wembley, and upon his death in 1993, a mass outpouring of emotion followed from the nation. A couple of quotes from perhaps his two greatest peers sum him up better than I ever can:

“He was my friend as well as the greatest defender I ever played against. The world has lost one of its greatest football players and an honourable gentleman.” - Pelé

“Bobby Moore was a real gentleman and a true friend.” - Franz Beckenbauer

Long-serving goalkeeper Peter Shilton completes the century club with a phenomenal 125 caps to his name, along with more than 1000 professional club appearances in a career that spanned three decades. Admirably ambitious from a young age, he had perhaps the greatest keeper of all time in Gordon Banks as a friend and rival from the start of his professional career, and along with similar competition from Ray Clemence in the years that followed, it was this that kept him sharp at the highest level for so long. Undoubtedly the crowning glory in Shilton’s career came under Brian Clough at Nottingham Forest, winning the League championship once, and both the League Cup and European Cup twice in the late 1970s. In terms of individual honours, he received the MBE, and later the OBE, as well as being awarded the prestigious Order of Merit by the PFA on his retirement from international football in 1990.

Between the four of them, they won 444 caps and incredibly represented England at every World Cup finals we reached between 1950 and 1990.

So there you have it. Wright, Charlton, Moore, Shilton and now Beckham: the England Centurians (insert your own embarrassing pun about lions and roaring here). RESPECT.

England is the Best?

We have 4 teams in the last 8 of the Champions League so that kind of goes without saying right? Last year we achieved a similarly impressive feat and had 3 teams in the last 4 of the competition, but could the unthinkable happen this year in the tournament’s third round to leave 4 English semi-finalists and guarantee a winner from our fine shores? I think most in the know would agree that Schalke will pose little threat against whoever they play next, and baring a miracle, Fenerbahce shouldn’t progress any further, so that leaves just Roma and Barcelona in England’s way it seems.

Now there’s no doubting the quality of Arsenal, Manchester United, Chelsea and Liverpool; historically they are the most successful English clubs, and for the last 5 years especially, have dominated both the Premier League and the domestic cup competitions. However, the coaches are French, Scottish, Israeli and Spanish, and between the starting XIs in the Champions League second legs, there were just 10 English players. That’s under a quarter for those who slept through Maths at school, with Arsenal not fielding a single one until Woolcott’s introduction with less than twenty minutes to go. Benitez played Carragher and Gerrard for Liverpool, while Man United (Ferdinand, Brown, Carrick and Rooney) and Chelsea (Terry, A Cole, Lampard and J Cole) started with 4-a-piece.

It is therefore ridiculous for the press to once again hail the brilliance of ‘English’ football; we are becoming increasingly more and more just like the hosts. If a band plays a great gig, do you congratulate the stadium and administrative staff for being the best in the world? No, the venue’s incidental really isn’t it? England is that venue, and the Premier League the advertisers if you will, telling the world where you can see Cristiano Ronaldo and Cesc Fabregas and Fernando Torres. It is great for the league that they are here, it’s great for the clubs and for the fans too, but to them it’s a job. They aren’t here because they love the English game, or want to help return us to a strong international force, they just want professional success and more money than they could ever spend. The crucial fact linking the four clubs in the Champions League last 8 isn’t that they’re English, it’s that they have smart managers and bottomless coffers should they be required.

I have no problem with Arsenal not fielding English players, that’s how it is these days, and if it was a choice between seeing Bacary Sagna at right-back or Justin Hoyte then it’s a no brainer. It’s just frustrating though when we as a nation get caught up in this media hysteria and start believing our own hype. We have failed in every major tournament in the last 42 years, and did not even qualify for this year’s event, so how can anything connected with English football be a success? The Premier League is exciting because it’s multi-national and cosmopolitan, but as homegrown percentages continue to drop, it can no longer be linked with so-called English triumph. Our country is a platform for talent no doubt, but self-congratulatory circle-jerks are pointless when the only truly successful clubs are the foreign-owned, foreign-managed and foreign-populated ones.

England 2 – 1 Switzerland

Yay! We won! Problems all solved right? We didn’t wanna waste our summer playing in some pointless kickabout tournament anyway, we’ve got bigger World Cup 2010-shaped fish to fry, and the path to glory started last night at a packed Wembley Stadium.

They might’ve been neutral during World War II, but Switzerland showed more backbone than expected throughout the course of the match, trying to play football and causing several problems within our defensive third of the pitch. This will be the main concern for Fabio Capello one would imagine, with Gareth Barry and the back four often dragged out of position just following the ball, where a simple man-to-man approach would have sufficed against such tame opposition.

Looking at the positives though, the so-called front three of Joe Cole, David Bentley and Wayne Rooney were all excellent, with Rooney a particular stand-out who deserved a goal. Furthermore, Steven Gerrard was more involved than he has been for years while wearing an England shirt, enjoying particular attacking freedom in the second half while the Swiss struggled to keep track of our movement with all their substitutions. Jermaine Jenas also continued some decent club form this year with a solid performance in the first half, but with a tendency to go missing in defence, perhaps he isn’t the long-term answer to our lightweight midfield we’ve been searching for since Paul Scholes retired. Shaun Wright-Phillips impressed as well in bursts after his introduction around the hour-mark, but he still has such an inconsistent end product that I’d be wary of ever starting with him in a competitive international.

Many of the same old issues remain unresolved however, and depressingly they seem to all revolve around the bare basics of the game; passing and movement. Too often players carrying the ball forward are lacking in options, and those options that are available tend to be receiving the ball standing still. This never happens with the best European club sides, let alone the truly great technical international sides. Arsenal for example have an attacking strategy centred around perhaps the simplest move of all, the wall pass, and this at least is something which our attacking players need to develop in their locker. These things all come from time spent playing together however, so I wouldn’t be too worried just yet after only three training sessions with the new Italian regime.

So yes, it’s a winning start for this new era of English football, but 7 of our last 9 managers have enjoyed the same success, so let’s not get carried away. The first real test comes next month away in Paris to 2006 World Cup runners-up France, who will surely want better preparation for the summer than last night’s damp 1 – 0 defeat to Spain. With more than just the three days time he had here with the team, we should all hope for slightly more evidence of Capello’s influence next month, with the fight and passion epitomized by his numerous European sides of the past at least evident. He has built his success on defending high up the pitch, competing for 95 minutes out of every 90, and having explosive match-winners in the final third. If we can find a decent partner for Rooney to play off, and establish the kind of sublime relationship he has with Carlos Tevez at Man United, then with the service of Bentley and Joe Cole or Ashley Young, we start to look pretty threatening. Then with Owen Hargreaves fit and back in the holding midfield role, we should have a stronger anchor to give the likes of Gerrard even more license to get forward and hit the ball on the edge of the penalty area.

Peter Crouch, Ashley Cole and Wes Brown need to go though, they simply are not good enough for this level and, since we need to be looking two years into the future, the time to draft permanent replacements in is now. World Cup qualification is the best part of a year away so let’s get a forward-thinking squad together now and put sentiment to one side. David Beckham and Michael Owen too, while great servants over the last decade, are well over the hill now so the sooner it is made clear they will never feature again for England, the better. Sorry guys!

Jungle Jamboree aka Mascot of the Week 14

Names – Roar; Roary; Lofty; Kingsley; Stamford; Hercules

Affiliations – Blackburn Rovers; Middlesbrough; Bolton; Reading; Chelsea; Aston Villa

Animals –Lions

Colours – A range of hues; from the traditional ‘sandy’ all the way to a slightly terrifying blue and white stripe combination

Most common missile pelted with – Raw meat and Disney plush toys

The lion is a noble creature. Powerful, athletic, primal, but also quite cuddly and beautiful if you get close to one who’s sedated enough not to kill you…kind of like Lindsey Lohan in that respect actually. You can see therefore why, not only is the lion emblazoned trice on our national team’s shirts, but also holds patronage at many football clubs around the country, and in fact a variety of sports teams throughout the world.

Currently, there are 6 of the 20 Premier League clubs who have lion mascots so STT decided, after watching 80s action classic Highlander, that there could only be one. As elaborate preparations were underway to simultaneously kidnap all 6 lions and transport them aboard a large tanker in international waters for an all-against-all cage match to the death, those nosey pedants at PETA once again had to stick their oars in. “It’s cruel…blah blah blah…lions are people too…blah blah blah.” Anyway, we were left then with only one option; to profile each big cat here and then offer you the chance, dear reader, to hunt down the 5 you feel unworthy of continued life…see below for details on this hot exclusive offer…

Roar – Blackburn Rovers

Sidestepping the usual mascot archetype of placing a regular animal simply in the team’s strip, Blackburn were bold enough to actually paint their lion in the clubs colours of blue, white and red. The result is bizarre and pretty scary actually, reminiscent of weird Japanese animation and acid trips gone wrong. The red mane is intense and the look in his eyes is permanently set to ‘kill.’

Roary – Middlesbrough

Roary also doubles as the club mascot of American football team the Detroit Lions apparently, but his heart will always remain in the North-East I am reliably informed. Perhaps with more rights to the animal than other clubs, Middlesbrough’s badge is actually a big red lion, not really sure why though. Roary himself however cuts a fairly forlorn figure, in drastic need of a nice bath and comb, but still has the match-day enthusiasm of a young pup scampering about on the sub-Saharan plains.

Lofty – Bolton Wanderers

Already featured in Mascot of the Week 10, Lofty stood mane and paws above the other lions on first inspection, blessed as he is by carrying the great Nat Lofthouse’s name and number. Still holding it down at the Reebok when called upon, Lofty has generally taken a slight step back from mascotry since we last caught up with him however to concentrate more on cheerleader management and helping Sepp Blatter design crotchless women’s football kits.

Kingsley – Reading

One of the more involved mascots, legend has it that Kingsley is actually an ex-pro who is part of Steve Coppell’s coaching staff, and that is why so often the players flock to wise old lion to celebrate goals at the Madjeski. This even once led to referee Mike Riley sending the poor lion back to the dressing room because he looked too similar to the Reading players and was thus causing confusion among the linesmen. Now I know Stephen Hunt is pretty filthy and hairy, but does he really look like an 8-foot tall yellow lion covered in fur?

Stamford – Chelsea

Considering the spending power behind Chelsea, you’d think they could afford to jazz up their mascot a touch because, let’s be honest, he makes more of a contribution than Steve Sidwell and Frank Lampard put together but looks a bit like a dropped pie. Stamford has been through a lot though, as the thousand-yard stare will tell anyone who gets near him: In the early hours of Saturday 23^rd July 2005, Stamford was actually STOLEN from the club’s ground by a highly-organised team of commandos, presumably sent by Arsenal to upset preparations for their upcoming pre-season Charity Shield meeting at the Millenium Stadium. Thankfully, Stamford was able to get a paw free, and taking one of his captors hostage, managed to scrap his way out of the abandoned air force hanger where he was being held and escaped to freedom.

Hercules – Aston Villa

Just so much is right about Hercules, from the name to the reassuringly spherical head, all the way down to the long fluffy tail. Definitely from the cartoon school of design, someone in Villa’s backroom staff really has a keen eye for mascot aesthetics; so much so in fact that if he ever wants a job here at STT, we’d be more than happy to take him on as an unpaid intern. Herc is a cheeky chappy for sure, but he’s also a hard worker who is active in the community. After running the sport relief mile for charity year after year, in 2007 he even went so far as to shave the famous ‘reverse monk’ haircut into his mane, just to raise a bit more cash for the underprivileged kids. Whadda guy!

So there you have it, the choice as they say, is yours. Send us your number 1 lion pick to the usual address, and if it matches with that chosen by leading wildlife expert Terry Nutkins, then we will send you the addresses of the other 5 and a big gun. Oh, and the comically oversized butterfly net that we have lying around the office.