...You Can't Buy Class

Against City last week United finally provided hard evidence to that old adage ‘you can’t buy class’.

While City admittedly played well over the two legs and pushed us all the way, United exhibited a couple of reasons as to why we have enjoyed such a prolonged period of success and at least a couple that suggest we will continue to do so.

Money can’t buy Ryan Giggs, who was again the difference between a draw and a win, as he was back in September. When a high-octane game goes to the wire, it is expected that the younger, fresher legs will prevail. Instead Giggs’ cool head and quick thinking came to the fore. Under such pressure he provided four key passes in the final ten minutes, the last of these landing square on the bonce of Wayne Rooney.

From the moment he scored the winner against City nineteen years ago on his full debut to the assist for the winner on Monday, Giggs has been feared by the blues. They will surely be as glad as any when he finally hangs up his boots but, given the evidence of Wednesday, that won’t be for some time yet.

Money can’t buy the passing range of Paul Scholes. Few players in the world rival Scholesy’s passing (Xavi, Iniesta and the like) and they are very much not for sale. Although Scholes is showing his age more than Giggs, he rolled back the years against City and hit some of the laser-guided long passes that we have been spoilt with over the years.

Of course United cannot keep relying on the aging legs of these two servants to the club. Although both Giggs and Scholes had superb games against City there were two players who eclipsed them in terms of performance. It is to their mental strength that United will look when the old guard finally retire.

City can’t buy a player of Rooney’s ilk. The spud-faced nipper upped his game once again from his four-goal man-of-the-match performance against Hull to lead the line superbly, a persistent menace and a reliable outlet for his team-mates. The complete forward.

City can buy all the spineless, money-grabbing Robinho’s they want but money alone won’t buy you a world-beater like Rooney. Only trophies will turn the head of players of his ability. City, in their 34-year barren spell, are stuck in a vicious circle for this reason. That United were the team that prevented them from breaking it when they were within touching distance must really sting. The heart bleeds…

Money can’t buy the determination of Darren Fletcher. Such devotion is borne from years of passion for a club. Although Carlos Tevez undoubtedly gives his all on the pitch and swears his allegiance to each club he plays for, he cannot honestly feel the same as a man like Fletcher, who has battled his way from also-ran to key player through years of grit and mental resolve. Crucially he has done this at one club.

Money can buy an over-the-hill Patrick Vieira, who was injured on Wednesday, but do you honestly think Vieira, pulling on a shirt of the second-rate club which he surely sees as a nice little pension, would have over-run Fletcher, bursting every sinew for the club he loves so much? If Phil Neville could do it…

The red flag remains high. A close second in the league with fourteen games to play and in a cup final. A club in crisis? This club is bigger than Ronaldo, bigger than the Glazers and, as we saw last Wednesday, definitely bigger than Manchester City.

Believe The Hype - Manchester Derby Preview

With just hours to go until the most anticipated Carling Cup match in recent memory, actually the most anticipated in distant memory, it is time to preview the semi-final second leg between the Manchesters United and City.

So why all the interest? This is only the Carling Cup, for Eric’s sake! One word: Cash. It’s sad but it’s true. Yes, the football is all that matters, but final scores are a result of the players on the pitch.

The other day my colleague Damo and I went to do some interviews at a charity event frequented by some of the finest international rugby players in Britain and Ireland: Geordan Murphy, Danny Care and the like, players that in a week or so will be watched around the world as they ply their trade in the Six Nations.

While I do like rugby more and more these days but remain firmly in the football camp, Damo is a big rugger fan. He must be to wear a hoody in the putrid flag colours of his beloved Harlequins, as he is today. Sky blue, green and brown – nice.

I have interviewed some of these players in the past and again I noticed that they just seemed like normal guys and didn’t have the aura that footballers do when you meet them. Damo agreed even though he is a bona fide egg chaser.

Why? We decided it was down to cash. While these rugby players earn up to £100,000 a year, top footballers earn more in a week. Yes, they earn over 50 times more despite rugby being arguably more physically demanding.

Without the money spent by Sheikh Mansour, the game tomorrow would not have the same aura about it either. Although it is not fashionable to admit it, money must subconsciously affects our thoughts and actions in ways we may not realise. Having said that we very consciously chase the dollar all day long while slogging away in our chosen professions.

City are desperate to win tomorrow. Neutrals are keen to see whether their newly assembled playing squad can beat their more illustrious neighbours over two legs. For United it is about saving face. It will be more relief than elation if United beat City in a tournament that has traditionally been seen as an opportunity to give fringe players valuable first-team minutes.

Without wanting to belittle City (honest!) this is their biggest match for 34 years. The massive win against Gillingham in the League One play-off final aside, City have not won any silverware since they won the Carling Cup in its previous incarnation (the league cup) in 1976, a fact that United fans take great pleasure in reminding them of as often as possible.

There is no doubt about it, City now have a strong team. Ferguson all but acknowledged this by playing one of his strongest sides in the first leg. In the past he has stuck with the players who have performed well in previous rounds.

The focus in the second leg will no doubt again be on City’s £47 million pound signing, Carlos Tevez, who is on fire at the moment and scored both in City’s 2-1 win in the first leg at Eastlands. However, one player who may be even more decisive is Rio Ferdinand. Remember him?

United’s success last season was built around the defensive trio of Ferdinand, Edwin Van der Saar and Nemanja Vidic. This term all three have been missing for substantial periods, and United have understandably suffered as a result of that and also the more conspicuous loss of their top-scorer Cristiano Ronaldo. Although Vidic is out again with a calf strain, Rio is back and can organise a back line as well as anyone, which may be crucial against a fired up City side.

United have also felt the loss of Tevez. His energy from the bench was infectious, but he often took up similar positions to Rooney, which meant that United’s approach play was rich yet there was often too little to aim for in the box. For that reason it is logical in a tactical sense to prefer a number nine such as Dimitar Berbatov, although the Bulgarian continues to frustrate and will probably do so again tomorrow.

The media interest around Tevez may well work to the advantage of Craig Bellamy, who terrorised United at Old Trafford earlier in the season and scored two excellent goals. With City busting a gut to prove a point United will have to be at their best, but with Wayne Rooney in sparkling form they have a good chance of that at Old Trafford.

So, Rooney vs. Tevez? Seconds out! Round Two!

Harry Redknapp: Tax doesn’t have to be taxing…

…Unless it involves being formally arrested and asked to explain yourself to the Crown Prosecution Service…Unless you have your house raided, your computer taxed and your hard drive rifled through by Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs.

That would be taxing on the mind, the reputation, and the relationship with the missus after she is informed of the niche archive of Photoshopped images involving your ‘big man, little man’ combos participating in lewd sex acts together.

Tax doesn’t have to be taxing…unless you face doing time over the missed payment of £40,000, a sum that, incidentally, wouldn’t even buy your first team a golfing trip to Ireland. Reports that Redknapp has stashed the 40 grand in coins under the skin on his face are unfounded but are backed up by substantial eyewitness evidence.

According to an ‘exclusive’ in the News of the World back in December: “His lawyer received a letter informing the Spurs boss he will have to face court following a long-running police probe.” Too easy.

Diego Maradona. Now there’s a man who did it properly. If you’re going to dodge the old taxman you may as well do it for a good few million then blow it all on cocaine and gastric bands.

To date Maradona has paid a mere 42 thousand of the 37 million Euros he owes to the Italian government. He is still manager of Argentina. There is hope for Old ‘Arry yet. He should merely flee to Buenos Aries, take over from Diego and add Martin Palermo and Lionel Messi to the archive. Every cloud.

Milan Mandaric has also been charged over the same issue: "If they are talking about this investment in Monaco it was done away from football, just between two friends - Harry and Milan - and not between manager and chairman. It was done away from the club, away from England." Oh yeah, that sounds perfectly kosher Milan, no-one’s going to suspect anything dodgy now are they?!

‘Arry does a great Del Boy impression with his ‘sawt of the erf’ cockney accent, but it seems that, if the allegations levelled against him are to be believed, he has taken this a little too far. Unlike Del you’d think he already had a bit of wonga in his skyrocket and didn’t need to shirk the taxman in the first place.

Instead of flogging dodgy Korean VHS players to Boycie down the Nags Head, Harry has some merchandise of his own, equally as dubious, to pedal to his fellow Premier League managers. He quite understandably wants to offload it as quickly as possible.

“Got a larvely little piece here Arsene me old china. Barely used, finest Soviet produce this. Parvlulychenka on the label. That’s the top brand in Russia right now. Top performance every time, guaranteed. Always there for you when it counts.

“What’s that Carlo? Yeah, yeah, regular as clockwork, completely compatible with the English lifestyle. He’s been brilliant for me, I tell you, cost £14 million but he’s yours for eight. Now I can’t say fairer than that can I?!

Enjoy it while you can, ‘Arry, you might soon be trading food tickets for soap in the clink. Bonne chance!

Is Arsene Wenger a Frustrated Headmaster?

Arsene Wenger doesn’t like to spend big as it would break his tradition of bringing through young talent, but more significantly because it would go against the know-it-all image he has nurtured for himself.

Wenger seems satisfied to sacrifice silverware to maintain his smug aura. ‘The Professor’ may be called so because he is more like a school P.E teacher than a football manager these days. He likes nothing more than the warm praise of a room full of journalists after one of his teams of multinational 16-year-olds has demolished lower league opposition in the Carling Cup.

In such situations Wenger has nothing to lose. If he wins he is a genius. If he does not he is praised for his excellent youth policy regardless. The fact that only a tiny percentage of his young players are English does not seem to matter to most people.

Put bluntly Wenger seems be attracted to the open market of very young foreign boys. He likes to makes sure that they are physically up to scratch with an intense series of probing examinations before he pays anything for them.

He obviously admires their talents and likes to make them run round in front of him in uniform before entering their changing room (often unannounced) and pushing them to give him more, often insisting on one-to-one sessions to fine-tune their individual performances.

Does a transfer policy that depends so heavily on youth work? Wenger clearly has a lot to offer to young boys, but does this policy make for good dressing room harmony or does he need to bring in some old heads with proven experience to show them the ropes and help them to cope with Wenger’s clever tactics and complex mind games?

[Amazingly I wrote this comment/article about an hour before Arsenal announced the signing of Sol Campbell. Brilliant. Wenger really is clever. He can read my mind.]

Arsenal have not tasted victory in the league since the unbelievable season he enjoyed when his ‘untouchables’ lifted the Premier League trophy unbeaten in 2004. Wenger has had to bide his time at Arsenal before unveiling the extent of his penchant for youth. It has not always been this way. Of the 2004 team the only first team regulars under 26 were Ashley Cole, Kolo Toure, Cesc Fabregas and Jose Antonio Reyes. Experienced heads such as Campbell, Gilberto Silva and Jens Lehmann showed the way in adversity.

If Wenger did go out and spend big on an Edin Dzeko, a Marouane Chamakh or even a Hulk, and they did not live up to their price-tag, his precious image would be shattered. Wenger prides himself on not just investing in talented youngsters but also on balancing the book at Arsenal, selling players like Vieira and Henry while they still drew large fees despite their obvious significance to the team.

Although these frugal decisions earn him the trust of the board and a ‘job for life’, Wenger is by no means infallible. He almost certainly got rid of Gilberto Silva, who continues to play a pivotal role for Brazil, too soon. What Arsenal would do for an experienced defensive midfielder now.

Most Arsenal fans must surely be hoping that Arsene Wenger breaks with tradition and spends the money that his employers insist is available to him. The question is if he is willing to swallow his pride and put his head, and his reputation, on the line.



To read the official (but watered down) version of this blog in my new ‘Charlie Says’ column (complete with hilarious picture) click here:

http://www.dexysden.com/2010/01/is-arsene-wenger-a-frustrated-headmaster/#comments


I’m also on an ‘expert’ panel for the Football Manager Podcast tonight. Look it up on iTunes tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest to hear my dulcet tones.

Dem Politik

Hello.

I’ve been listening to various (mostly constructive) criticisms from various mates on my blog so far. After a long period of meditating in the lotus position whilst having a tearful wank with one hand and lacerating my back and thighs with the reeds in the other, I decided to act.

Firstly my pal Hatchy told me to be more opinionated. After writing poncey essays on postmodernism, cosmology and the like at Uni and then sports features thereafter I was used to balancing arguments with both sides of the story etc. etc. Thanks to the Hatchmeister I saw the error of my ways and, never one to do things by halves, wrote a piece about Mick McCarthy getting his sheriff’s badge busted open by Sir Alex Ferguson.

Opinion can go too far though, especially mine depending on my mood. I wrote my next blog in the midst of reading Frankie Boyle’s autobiography and possibly my mind dial was turned to nasty mode. My mate Harry said he was embarrassed to be reading it and had to look over his shoulder as he did. Well Harry, I’m afraid the dial has broken and snapped off.

All the best things on the internet (porn basically) are thus. Treat my blog as office-friendly porn. It looks like a normal document, but if your boss/mum comes over, take the mouse for a little trip to that x button. No harm done.

Another friend (I now have three!), Jacko, said I shouldn’t limit myself to sport and should broaden my horizons. Jacko works in ‘Politik’, or something like that. So I decided to find out more about this new phenomenon and see if I have anything to contribute….

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One day not too long ago I used the internet to research this Politik. I found out that the movement was started in the late 1980s by Gustav Politik. Politik started a football team called Real Politik, who were set up in Moscow as Russia’s answer to Real Madrid. Due to the cold weather they wore big jackets and thin neck scarves to keep warm during games. Real Politik managed to gain entry into the Champions League in 1992 and decided they needed a grand stadium.

Thus Red Square was built, with the Kremlin as a clubhouse. However, Real Politik soon started to argue with visiting teams about ticket prices and transport to the stadium, and between themselves regarding who should pick the team. The wild debates soon started to take over the football. A team from London, Westminster Athletic, visited Real Politik in the group stages and liked what they saw. They named this banal argumental game ‘Politik’ after the Russian side, and took it back home with them.

These days Politik is everywhere in the UK. One day, when I had read everything in the sports section, I actually turned a newspaper over. There it was! Politik! It was excruciatingly boring but, as I had nothing else to do, I persevered. I read about all sorts of crap, but one thing interested me. You can actually participate in Politik every few years without being a member of a team. Apparently there is a blue team and a red team and you have to decide which one is best, vote for them, and they win like a cup, or something.

As I am starting to be affected by Politik what with the trying to get a job in the recession and all, I decided it was time for me to choose a team. I took a look at the captains. Obviously no-one who takes themselves seriously has got into Politik yet.

Brown, who plays for the reds at number 10, is clearly a shape-shifting reptile from the lower fourth dimension. David Icke (a former Coventry goalkeeper) believes that a fourth dimension exists which is invisible to the human eye and is inhabited by society’s elite, who are actually giant lizards. Looking at Brown, I can see his point. I can well imagine him dislocating his jaw to swallow a homeless boy whole.

His rival, Cameron, who plays for the blues, is clearly a git. He’s one of those guys I met at Uni who thinks that because they come from a wealthy family and went to a posh Southern boarding school he is in some way better than anyone and everyone else.

Confidence is sometimes underestimated as a component of success in my humble opinion. As an aspiring journalist I read some articles in major newspapers that are absolutely shite. How did these people get there with an obvious lack of talent? You can bet they went to the same school as someone in the paper’s hierarchy and have an institutionalised belief that they deserve to be in the position they are in. The annoying thing is it seems to work.

Whereas Tony Blair, who was captain of the reds before Brown and won back-to-back cups (and also played at number 10), preferred a calm, competent game, these two do not. I saw Cameron in a post-match interview programme called Hard Talk. He was flustered, grinding his teeth, mincing his words, unsure of himself. Not a good sign for future matches especially as he wants to captain the blues to the cup for the first time in 13 years.

I have just started working in a bar on top of my full-time job to stiffen up my somewhat flaccid income. After my shift I was sitting around with the DJs and Assistant Manager and they started to talk Politik! I started to feel nervous as to whether I was ready, but after so many football matches have been called off recently, I can actually talk the language of Politik. It was crazy! We talked about the boot expenses scandal, the signing of immigrant players, wage tax, everything!

Having said that I still can’t decide which team to follow. Blair robbed the assisted places scheme from my school when he came for a friendly match, which from what I have seen has changed the dynamic in a negative way. But if I choose Cameron’s blue team he wants to charge me 50% of the massive wage I will eventually earn as a journalist (if I find the secret of eternal life) just to watch him play! Having said that Brown’s team of reptiles haven’t done too well with their own club finances recently, so maybe the blues deserve the cup for a bit, but I don’t want to fuel their inbred posh player selection policy.

Apparently though they keep putting the match back, like the Carling Cup quarterfinals, so at least I have a while to choose.

The chef of the bar also had some socio-racial truths to air. He is from Congo. After stifling the overpowering urge to ask him whether he drank Um Bongo, he told me that the difference between black and white people is that black women have a big ass whereas white men have a thin dick, which is why black women don’t want white men. So now I know.

Oh no the mature(ish) conversation is fading! Phew! Back to the football…