Surprise!

Wow. What an incredible end to the season. It seems that so much has happened since my last posting last Tuesday. Some weeks in sport are quiet, most pass without huge incident. Some, like this week however, one leaves with the feeling that people have gone out of their way to create stories. In football, there have been fewer periods that have been more densely packed with big news than this week. The Premier League season culminated with a record 19th title for Manchester United, relegating a truly valiant Blackpool side in the process. Wigan and Wolves escaped from the 'terrifying' jaws of the Championship, which itself amazed with a quality performance by Reading during a 3-0 thrashing of Cardiff City on Tuesday evening.

Sir Alex Ferguson has had a mixed bag, after discovering not only that his future in fortune-telling may not be too successful but that  one of his players (I forget who?) had been less than discrete in his dealings with a tabloid beauty. Just when the week seemed to be rolling to an insignificant close, the mere matter of the Champion's League final to be decided, perhaps the two most baffling events occurred, firstly with Fergie deciding to play the role of 'Demon Headmaster', promising to "get" a journalist who posed an awkward question by banning him from the pre-final Press Conference on Friday, and finally in perhaps the most overdue sequence of events since Robbie Savage retired, everyone's favourite naughty uncle - Jack Warner - and FIFA Presidential candidate Mohammed Bin Hammam are to face an ethics enquiry after allegations of bribery at Football's governing body.

Sadly, at a time when so much has happened that showcases the incredible nature of football, emphasising why we love it so dearly (I defy a football fan to watch the celebrations at White Hart Lane, after Craig Gardner spanked in a 25-yarder that he thought would keep his club up, and not be moved), so much has also happened that has left a decidedly bitter taste. The saddest fact of all, however, is how thoroughly unsurprising I find any of the developments over the last 7 days. In fact, these occurrences sum up the unsavoury underbelly of modern football and leave me wondering where it all went wrong.

Firstly,  it seems appropriate to tackle the issue of manager Carlo Ancelotti's rather ridiculous sacking from his job at Chelsea, after a loss to Everton that saw his team stumble into second place behind a far more consistent United side. Reports claim that Ancelotti was sacked just one hour after the game finished, leading some to speculate that the sacking may have even taken place on the team coach. This frankly ludicrous scenario, which I would dismiss as tabloid drivel if it were any other club, would seem oddly plausible on the King's Road, where it appears any semblance of class, continuity or sanity was discarded upon the arrival of Roman Abramovich's millions. To sack a man who won the double in his first season in charge of the club, the first such achievement of Chelsea's history, as well as persevered with a dignity and class Abramovich could only dream of after the passing of his father in November, emphasises the moral redundancy at Stamford Bridge to the point where passing a note forward from the back of the coach to confirm the manager's departure doesn't seem completely implausible after all.

Chelsea were not at their best in this campaign. At times they stuttered and produced poor results and performances. The signing of Fernando Torres for £50million in January, a move which has subsequently seen the Spaniard play with all the confidence of a bookish virgin in a nightclub, probably didn't help Ancelotti's cause. It speaks volumes, however, that the Italian manage under Silvio Berlusconi, the kind of perilous position normally only reserved for 17-year-old prostitutes, at A.C Milan for nine years, while only surviving at Chelsea for 20 months. Abramovic's standards are seemingly unattainable, and until Chelsea can find a manager who delivers League and Champion's League victories every season, Blues fans may have to wait in frustration for the Russian to change his ways.

Upon hearing the news that Jack Warner and three of his FIFA colleagues were going to be investigated for bribery claims, I, like many, was shocked to the core. That such horrifying corruption could occur at a morally guided, wholly transparent organisation like FIFA leaves me questioning everything. What if Ryan Giggs really did do all of those bad things? What if Barcelona's players are actually, for all of their skill, a team of exaggerating, egotistical maniacs who wouldn't frown at a spot of racist abuse? At one dark moment, I even began questioning the legitimacy of Cristiano Ronaldo's tan. Of course, for the vast majority of right-thinking football fans, such accusations at FIFA are no surprise at all. Accusations have existed for long before the wonderfully titled 'ethics committee' decided to spit out their caviar and do something about it. The level of cynicism in the football community is heartwarming, but ultimately frustrating. Most fans recognise the incredibly fortunate timing - that a groundbreaking bribery case be brought against the sole competitor to Sepp Blatter in FIFA's Presidential election in the build-up to FIFA's Presidential election is nothing short of miraculous! Blatter's sudden adoption of more ethical, honest motives is heartening to see, however in spite of the humour we can all derive from the situation whilst at the pub, the whole thing leaves me incredibly frustrated. 

Why can't England split away from FIFA? Why, when clubs across the world are calling for goal-line technology and more accountability at governance level, must we persist with this self-serving, self-aggrandising organisation whose soul purpose seems to be its own publicity. What would happen if the English, Spanish, Italian, French and German Football Associations decided enough is enough, and split away? The game wouldn't crumble, no, in fact within time I am certain a fairer, more logical system would come in to existence, be it from a newly-founded organisation created by additional members of this new footballing frontier, or by a worried FIFA changing its ways to convince these great nations to renew their membership. Either way, something needs to be done before 'the beautiful game' becomes even uglier.

The tabloid furore that has been created by Manchester United this season again should come as no surprise to any football fans. Firstly, lest we forget, Wayne Rooney was outed at the very beginning of the season as a 'love-rat' for his penchant for prostitutes and the British media's love/hate relationship with the 'Super-Injunction' began. Then, with Rooney's baffling U-turn from want away, selfish child to terrace-hero-super-dad, endless tweets about the latest funny thing his vacuous wife Coleen or baby Kai have done creating more nausea than a picture of his celebratory shaven chest, we saw Ferguson's miraculous ability to sweep problems under the carpet. One filthy mess he hasn't had a big enough broom for, however, is the Ryan Giggs saga: tabloid gold created the moment one of Fergie's 'golden boys' recognised Imogen Thomas in a nightclub. What's next? Paul Scholes taking a hostage? Gary Neville setting fire to a post-box? The mind boggles. 

Giggs' irresponsible, selfish actions have completely destroyed a persona created by 20 years of consistently great performances and success, carefully nurtured no doubt by the media team at Manchester United. Ferguson's most recent bout of lunacy came on Tuesday, when he became infuriated with a question posed by AP journalist Rob Harris about the importance of Giggs to United's Champion's League final hopes, betrays the planned uniform reaction by Manchester United: nothing happened. Realistically in these situations, there is nothing that a club can do. If they come out to criticise the player, they annoy him. They come out to support him, they annoy literally everyone else, so what option is there but to say nothing? Alternatively, you could do what Fergie did and respond as if Harris has just pushed you over in the playground by not inviting him to your birthday party. The most embarrassing aspect of all isn't that the whole conversation was picked up by the mountain of microphones in front of the Scot, or that helpful subtitles have been positioned onto every subsequent video, but that Ferguson lacks the adequate authority to ban anyone from the press conference on Friday, and so Harris will most probably be sat smugly with his laptop and his hand raised, ready to ask his next pointed question.

Sadly, sometimes things in life disappoint you. This much is obvious. These disappointments are made more obvious when they come from a source which is normally so pleasurable and reliable. The crazy week we have just experienced presented football at its best and worst, every moment of skill and shock mirrored by another accusation or baffling row. Football rolls on to another week, while we, the fans, trail behind still getting our heads together. 

For more information about the inherent corruption of FIFA, i'd highly recommend 'FOUL - The Secret World Of FIFA' by Andrew Jennings. 

Football - A lesson in managing expectations?

In sport, there are few examples of cases where so much disproportionate expectation is placed upon the shoulders of athletes than professional football. Sure, growing up I can remember the inevitable surge of expectation that Tim Henman was going to finally win Wimbledon this year, and the exploits of any national team are always closely scrutinised and often criticised for underachievement. The difference here, however, being that generally the expectation of the England cricket team, for example, will play good, attractive cricket and show heart against the Australians during the Ashes, not that they will win every series 5-0. 

Football is slightly different. Of course, there are many examples of clubs who's supporters are more realistic about their situation. One thinks of Stoke City, for example, as I find it hard to believe that any Stoke fan will go in to next season expecting to finish it by seeing Ryan Shawcross lifting the Europa League title. No, instead the superb support they showed in both their solid win against Arsenal (chants of 'Swing low, sweet chariot' being amongst my favourite examples of the tremendous wit of football fans) and during the FA Cup final on Saturday emphasise the grounded nature of Potters fans. They were aware that their team were exceeding expectations by achieving what they have this season, and so Stoke's exploits have been met with appropriate jubilation.

Then there is the other side of the coin. To a certain degree, I count myself in this group because, as an Arsenal fan, the growing frustration at our inability to achieve anything has rendered me furious at several points this season. The Arsenal situation is slightly different, however, because manager Arséne Wenger continues to build the hopes of the supporters every year, claiming that this will be the time his team win something, and so the perpetual under-achievement and inevitable February collapse is arguably a more legitimate source of frustration. Calls to 'get Wenger out', however, highlight the point perfectly that football fan's expectations are often ridiculously high and sometimes unattainable. Arsenal fans need to realise that with the current squad, taking into account the squads of other teams, to expect Arsenal to have won the league is unreasonable. Sometimes, expectations should be more carefully considered. 

Take West Ham United, for example. The vast majority of West Ham fans don't show a great deal of shock at their team's current downfall, in spite of owners Gold and Sullivan's frankly outrageous claims when they arrived that West Ham would be in the Champion's League within ten years. No, instead the fans recognise that with the mismanagement and poor decisions that have been made at the club, relegation was always an unsavoury possibility. This attitude contrasts completely with the delirium that has befallen many fans at another London club, Tottenham Hotspurs, after their team qualified for the Champion's League last year. 

Spurs fans suddenly seem to expect that finishing at least fourth every year is now the baseline, completely disregarding the monumental achievement by the players and manager Harry Redknapp that doing so last season was. For certain fans to boo their team after games this season because they haven't won, or winger Gareth Bale (another prime example of a player who may suffer from the weight of expectation for the rest of his career) is frankly pathetic, and mirrors the actions of a small number of Arsenal fans calling for Wenger's exit. Unfortunately, fans of top clubs are so spoilt that they begin to forget that there is a footballing world outside the top-5 of the Premier League. 

I sincerely hope that the owners of football clubs persevere with courses of action that serve their clubs well in the long term, rather than bowing down to short-term pressures and rocketing fan expectations, as many have done in the past. Some clubs have it right, that's for sure; there has not even been a whisper from Blackpool of the possibility of Ian Holloway losing his job, because the chairman and fans alike have reasonable expectations. Some, meanwhile, have it all wrong, and one can think of many examples of poor decisions made in such climates: Sam Allardyce at Blackburn, Houghton at Newcastle and a plethora of others. Who will be the next manager to fall on the sword of high expectation? While Avram Grant's departure from West Ham is most probably well-deserved, few would be surprised to see Ancelotti leave Chelsea after (shock horror!) not winning the league, or indeed witness Neil Warnock pack his bags by Christmas and leave QPR because his team aren't in the top half. 

Football is undoubtedly big business, and the pressure on managers and players in this environment is vast. I, like many football fans however, would like to see some of the sanity return to the beautiful game. 

Drawing inspiration from a true great.

When one considers the people that, in their lifetime, affect them the most profoundly, a number of different individuals will come up. Family members, friends, partners, as well as a huge number of other sources of inspiration. These could be historical figures or people in the public eye, and many of us are at one time or another inspired by the determination, skill and character of a sportsman or woman. For many in this situation, Severiano Ballesteros will be on that list.

Quite simply, Ballesteros was an all-round inspiration. Without veering into sycophancy, Seve changed the sport of Golf forever, transforming the image and popularity of the game across the globe. With the sad news of his untimely death on Saturday, his native Spain lost perhaps the greatest sportsman it has ever produced, golf mourned the passing of one of its greatest exponents while his achievements were commended at home and abroad. Ballesteros was, to put it simply, an inspiration.

Few will ever pick up a golf club with the same impact as Seve. Self-taught, Ballesteros went on to win five majors in a career that also saw him become one of the all-time greatest Ryder Cup players and a winning captain, as well as world number one. Some of the shots Seve Ballesteros played in his time were absolutely sublime. Highlight reels, which have been quite rightly abundant over the weekend, emphasise to golf fans young and old the skill and technical prowess of this incredible character. Ballesteros' charm and charisma saw him single-handedly re-invent the public image of the sport, something that still resonates today with the increased popularity of golf with the younger generations. For people like my father, an avid golf fan and long-time appreciator of Seve Ballesteros, the emotion with which he recounts tales of the Spaniard's career, and the sadness that his early passing provoked speaks more profoundly than anything, mirrored by the overwhelming number of tributes to Ballesteros from fellow professionals and fans.

Severiano Ballesteros was, and is, an inspirational character; not only for his sparkling career but for the dignity, determination and bravery with which he fought the unspeakable hardships he faced in his latter years. A more genuine, inspiring sportsman you will struggle to find, and I am gladdened that the tremendous professional and personal achievements of this wonderful human being will live on through the adoration of his friends, family and fans. Rest in peace, Seve.

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In an understandably deflated atmosphere in the sporting world, this weekend's Premier League program has been a welcome source of entertainment. Drama at both ends of the table, with West Ham fans beginning to realise the impending doom of their situation, Blackpool, Wolves and Wigan fighting to avoid the two remaining relegation-places, while at the top a successful weekend in Manchester has seen City move to within touching distance of a coveted fourth place, while United have all but wrapped up their record 19th Premier League title.

It was while watching Manchester United's impressive 2-1 win over rivals Chelsea that Ballesteros kept popping in to my head. On a weekend where the achievements of one sporting great have been reiterated and celebrated all over again, the escapades of another two have proved the source of inspiration for me personally, as Ryan Giggs and Sir Alex Ferguson moved to within a point of what will be the 33rd trophy they have won together. Even with the constant exposure we receive regarding United's achievements, some statistics still leave one baffled.

Giggs was imperious against Chelsea, time and time again dispossessing players who are, quite literally, ten years younger than him. He out-ran everyone on the pitch, including the impressive Park Ji-Sung and Wayne Rooney, playing a perfectly waited pass to Park to set up United's first goal, and skinning Branislav Ivanovic before dinking a wonderful ball across the box to provide the second. Giggs' display rolled back the clocks again, in the same way he has been doing consecutively for the last three or four seasons. His manager didn't even dispel the notion that Giggs will still be playing in 2013.

Then there's Ferguson himself, a man who, as a proud Arsenal fan I have had my moments with, but whose unending passion for the game is nothing short of miraculous. Sir Alex still loves big matches such as these as much as he did when he arrived in Manchester in 1986, promising to "knock Liverpool off their perch". Well, 25 years later his team, the physical embodiment of an empire that encompasses so much more than the thirty-or-so players that make up the Manchester United squad, have inched one step closer to the realisation of that dream. With one more point from two games, against strugglers Blackburn and Blackpool, Ferguson's aim will have been achieved, and the jubilant nature of the Scot's celebrations after the final whistle against Chelsea emphasise the boyish enthusiasm the legendary manager still has for the game. His tactical decisions this season have been better than ever, his eye for talent (as proved by the wonderful acquisition of Hernandez) is unblinking and his hunger for success in insatiable.

At a time when we are all blindsided by the intrinsic unfairness of life, and in a sporting sense shocked by the tragic manner in which the life and career of a legendary athlete can be cut short, to see Giggs, and to a greater extent Ferguson, enjoying their careers as much now as twenty years ago is a true source of inspiration for us all. When the family of Severiano Ballesteros is mourning the loss of a true great, it is heartening to see that there are still people left that appreciate the vast fortune of their situations.

The death of the 'character' - has modern football become boring?

We all know what an incredibly big-business modern football has become. Money dominates in a world where the World Cup, the holy-grail of all football competitions, may be moved to the Winter in 2022 as multi-billionaire Qataris struggle to find a way for the world's pampered elite players to strut their stuff in such a searing climate. Certain players in the top leagues across the globe, and increasingly in lower divisions, personify everything that supporters dislike about the modern footballer: he's a money-grabbing, Porsche-driving, sniveling 20-year-old with no acknowledgement of the sheer privilege of his position. Players, however, are not  the only aspect of the modern game that emphasises the capital-driven nature of the sport.

No, the biggest clubs are now almost unanimously referred to as 'franchises'. To the owners of these clubs, the 'Galactico' spirit, where the Korean shirt-sales figures matter as much as the fact of whether this big money signing is worthy of being paid £150,000 a week. Clubs such as Arsenal, Liverpool and Tottenham are coming under increasing pressure due to the sheer global magnitude of their peers to increase their influence across the globe. Arséne Wenger seems to have finally caved in the long-running debate he has had with the Arsenal board and marketing department over how beneficial it would be for Arsenal's players to embark on a Pre-season tour of the Far East, and Arsenal will most probably be doing so before the 2011/12 season.

If it were ths simple, and the abundance of money was the only problem affecting modern footballers, then fans could probably just about take it. However, I believe there is a more pressing problem with the modern game, this being that there is an absence of traditional 'characters' - those players who go out for five pints on a Friday night and score a screamer on the Saturday. Those great men - the George Bests, the Ian Wrights, the Paul Mersons, Gascoignes and Fowlers. Essentially, these men are flawed characters: two studs short of a boot room, perhaps personal demons or some latest shenanigan hitting the papers every week, but the fans adore them. They love the clubs they play for. In many cases, such players have grown up watching a certain team with the rest of the punters, they are one of the punters. One of the lads, living the dream.

I'm not accusing modern players of being boring, don't get me wrong, nor am I saying that there are no players left who embody this spirit - the guy you just can't stay mad at, be it because he's pulling another prank or conducting another legendary interview. One thinks of Jimmy Bullard, perhaps one of the foremost remaining members of this clan, but there are many more. Most teams still have a 'prankster', but generally there are fewer stories that emerge from clubs than there used to be, excluding the latest prostitution or gagging-order scandal. The reason for this declining phenomenon, in my opinion, lies very much with the structure of player recruitment across the world. A rather ridiculous story of a one-year-old baby being signed by professional club VVV Venlo highlights my point here perfectly. Although this is obviously an extreme case, when I read about Manchester United or Chelsea, Arsenal or Barcelona battling over the signature of a nine-year-old boy it makes me cringe. Children are being signed at increasingly young ages, and trained within clubs throughout their entire teenage life, many being educated solely with other trainees. When they emerge on the other side, they resemble cookie-cutter drones: bred for the strength of their legs and the quickness of their mind. Nowadays, many who don't quite fit the mould are discarded at ages when players before would have only been starting out.

In the modern game, this urgency of recruitment is unfortunately unavoidable. Teams must gamble on training younger and younger kids in the vain hope that one will turn into the next Lionel Messi, Cesc Fabregas or John Terry. Gone are the days when a player like Roy Keane can only sign for a professional club aged 19 and go on to captain club and country. No, the conveyor belt of talent rumbles on at football clubs across the world, with children as young as seven recruited after they show glimmers of potential. By the time these kids are ready for a starting place in a first team, they have been indoctrinated in club mechanisms for at least ten years, and I ask how healthy this is for football as an environment? Perhaps this system is marginally more effective for developing talent and sifting through young players, but for the game as a whole, i'm not so sure.

The landscape has changed drastically, some of the tales from tournaments even as (relatively) recently as Italia '90 and Euro '94, where squads of players with life experiences and real, working personalities genuinely enjoyed spending time with each other, put modern yarns to shame. Players pranking each other, legendary drinking sessions, sneaking out of hotel rooms and a plethora of other stories which fans can tell over and over again with unwavering enjoyment. In 2010, however, England's players were couped up like a gang of unruly schoolchildren or recalcitrant dogs whose owners are on holiday, about as wild as it got was when the players inexplicably lit up cigars after being spanked 4-1 by Germany. Honestly, how many players are there in the current England squad that you'd like to go for a pint with?

I'm not encouraging players to behave irresponsibly or in a way that brings negative attention to their clubs or national teams, but I am simply mourning the passing of an era where fans were actually able to relate to, and dare I say even like, footballers who lived their careers with the boyish enthusiasm of teenage supporters who still couldn't believe they were doing this for a living. I worry that the next generation of fans might merely be consigned to Twitter feeds of mega-stars discussing their latest Xbox exploits, while others of us are lucky enough to reminisce about the great stories of the past.


Perhaps one day this culture will develop again, and supporter's eagerness to watch more genuine, normal men playing the beautiful game will lead to a resurgence of the great 'character'. Until then, we will only have to wait and tell our great stories. Have you heard the one about...