Roy Hodgson as a head coach of Fulham F.C. Русский: Рой Ходжсон на посту главного тренера ФК «Фулхэм» (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The FA have confirmed that West Brom have given them permission to talk to West Brom manager Roy Hodgson.
The FA statement says:
Roy is the only manager we have approached and we remain on course to make an appointment within the timescale we set-out soon after Fabio Capello’s departure.
“Further conversations will now take place with Roy and my Club England colleagues before any further announcements can be made.”
With all the media led hype for Tottenham manager Harry Redknapp being the only candidate is this a smoke screen? Or will Harry be approached next?
The mood amongst Spurs fans is mixed after a poor run of results that mirrored last season.
Who knows, but you can’t argue with Roy’s credentials as a manager in Europe and managing International teams he’s got the experience.
We’ll see if the FA now make an approach for Redknapp too…
This weekend heralds the 4th round of the Budweiser sponsored FA cup. Dreams of Wembley are harboured by fans, whose clubs are still hanging on in the competition. The media like to talk about the romance of the FA cup. In its 141 year history, there have been many memorable moments. Ronnie Radford’s winning goal for non-league Hereford United against the mighty Newcastle. Trevor Brooking’s cup final header against Arsenal. Ricky Villa’s dramatic solo goal against Man City. All glorious moments etched in FA cup folklore. However, I remember something far more memorable than all of that. Something that really represents FA cup tradition. The FA cup final song!
There are probably a few spotty pubescent teenagers reading this, who don’t know what the hell I’m on about. Well that’s nothing new. I’m not cool anymore. Well truth be told, I was never cool. Hence the years of self-loathing. Anyway, I digress. The really tragic thing is, this generation has lost out. Forget about the rise in student fees or broken Britain. They are a host of people out there, who never got the chance to see tone deaf, multimillion pound footballers, make absolute prats of themselves. Well in ways other than family-related sex scandals, and controversial (non) pre-match handshakes of course.
For those who may not know. There was a time (way back when) that football clubs who competed in the FA cup final, would celebrate the occasion. The two competing clubs did this, by releasing their own individual songs. Yes, an actual living, breathing song that would go into the charts. There was even a real a chance this dichotomy of audio tripe, could reach the dizzy heights of number one. How ridiculous is that? Imagine footballers today, having the opportunity to topple modern artists like Rihanna and Ed Sheeran. In fairness, a lot of the FA cup final songs were better than Ed Sheeran, but that’s beside the point.
So picture the scenario. A group of professional footballers in a recording studio, warbling into a microphone. Some of them genuinely believed they could actually sing. Oh and the songs. Let me tell you about the songs. The lyrics were just a mess of random football clichés, with terrace chants thrown in. They were terrible, truly terrible. However we as football fans absolutely adored them! It was something about the silly, cheesy, naff nature of it all, that was well, very, how do you say……English. Plus all the proceeds from the songs sales, would go to a local charity or something wholesome like that (I think!).
Sadly, professional football in this country is a very corporate and commercial world now. Something seemed to happen at the turn of the millennium, and the tradition of releasing a FA cup football song was forgotten. It just doesn’t happen anymore. The media complains there are no sporting personalities. Well the FA cup final song made even the most gormless of morons (I’m talking to you Wayne Rooney), look like real entertainers. Don’t just take my word for it. Have a look at the attached videos of past FA cup final songs. I dare you to watch them and not sing ‘the Anfield rap’or ‘Arsenal hot stuff’ afterwards.
I was even contemplating the return of International football songs. You know, the ones a nation would record and release before a major tournament. Now this is really exciting stuff. We could have a football version of Eurovision. Where players from each nation would sing and rival countries would do the voting. Oh think of the politics, the backstabbing, and the bribery. FIFA and UEFA would bloody love it! Instead of thinking about formations and zonal marking, the England manager would be wondering if Darren Bent and Joe Hart could finish off their perfect falsettos. Absolute genius folks! I reckon I’m onto something here. Someone get me Simon Cowell’s number, quick.
So, who’s with me here? Let’s see the return of the FA cup final song. With your help this dream can be achieved. We can do it together people. I could even start a petition. Let the future of today revel in football music awfulness. Thank you! I’m off to listen to my Baddiel and Skinner ‘Euro 96’ Three Lions cassette.
Anton Ferdinand will decide in the next 48 hours whether to shake John Terry’s hand when QPR meet Chelsea in the FA Cup on Saturday. That’s according to this morning’s copy of The Times.
Reports elsewhere say that Ferdinand has already decided to snub the Chelsea captain’s handshake, while others say Ferdinand’s is under strict instructions from his club to politely adhere to the pre-match formalities.
Obviously, no-one knows what will happen when the two men meet. All we do know, is that this is an epoch defining event in football. A point in history against which all future events will be measured.
Already the Olympic countdown clock in Trafalgar Square has been recalibrated, and is now ticking down to 3pm on Saturday.
Crowds have begun to gather in St Marks Square in a 24-hour vigil. And the Pope will lead a service in the hope that God will offer Ferdinand divine guidance on the issue.
So serious are the potential consequences the guardians of the famous ‘Doomsday clock’, which indicates how close the world is to Armageddon, have inched the minute hand one notch closer global catastrophe.
A small number of people have even formed a new cult and retreated to a deserted Scottish Isle. There they will live secluded from the world existing solely by a new code of ethics based on asking themselves: “What would Anton do?”
Meanwhile, for those who have decided to remain in the UK and live through these tumultuous events, Sky News will broadcast rolling coverage of the event. Using helicopters their cameras will track Ferdinand and Terry as they emerge from the tunnel, warm-up, and move down the line of players as they go through the pre-game rituals.
So, with judgement day looming and with the world’s religious leaders calling for peace, we will all continue to count down to the big moment. Only to find out that Anton’s out with a groin strain….
Trevor Brooking’s recent statement that Fabio Capello could yet be persuaded to stay on beyond Euro 2012 should have come as no surprise to any football fan. The only real surprise is that it took so long for someone in the FA to put forward such a view, and that the FA is persisting with its stated intention of only having an English manager replace Capello.
British football, and England in particular, have long been accused of insularity and a resistance to new ideas. That thought holds some weight as far back as the 1930s with the FA declining to participate in the first three World Cups seeing the competition as nothing more than a silly fad. Fast forward 80 years and the same accusation of insularity might seem harsh given the advancement of the game, the existence of the Premier League (still technically ‘licenced’ by the FA) and the influx of foreign talent.
Excepting the fans, and look at the other most important elements of English football though, the players and the managers, and for all the money and glamour, the game still has its philosophy rooted in the mid 20th century. Very few English players ever play overseas, even fewer coaches do so and those that do, with the exception of David Beckham, tend to disappear from the national consciousness.
It is this culture and the FA’s desire to appease the press and fans that has led to a situation whereby the next national manager will be drawn from a tiny pool of talent. Fans are not blameless in this – whipped up by the press, the majority of England’s supporters seem to believe that Capello’s nationality is the main factor in the lack of success over the last 4 years. The press meanwhile, also point at Capello’s age and his lack of international experience.
All three of these criticisms clumsily ignore several important facts. First, that the majority of England’s players over the last 15 years have spent almost all of their club careers under foreign coaches, with a remarkable degree of success. Secondly, that the only current English manager with international tournament experience is Roy Hodgson, with his time with Switzerland. And lastly, that the two most eligible candidates, Harry Redknapp along with Hodgson, are both in their mid-60s, which is hardly a blueprint for the future of the current squad. In fact, there are only four top-flight English managers to choose from: Redknapp, Hodgson, Alan Pardew and Neil Warnock. None of them come close to being as decorated, successful or internationally experienced as Capello or the other potential foreign candidates such as Hiddink
It is worth considering Redknapp for a moment. In a managerial career of almost 30 years, his only achievements of any note are an FA Cup with Portsmouth, and leading Spurs into the Champions League. His recent heart trouble is well documented and at 64, he would be almost 72 by the time he’d taken England to two World Cups. If off the pitch affairs are also criteria for selection, as they wrongly were for Terry Venables, then Redknapp’s looming court appearance for tax evasion makes his popularity amongst the press and fans almost inexplicable.
The FA’s stance begs a question: What other organisation or industry willing to pay up to £6 million a year for the top job would choose to constrain the talent they recruit by nationality? Would Tesco or HSBC declare that their next CEO must be English? Do clubs at any level of the game declare that their next manager will be from the local area? And with a similar paucity of good candidates for the job, would any other nation insist their manager must not be foreign? English clubs and the game overall have made huge leaps in success and quality, due in large part to the influx of foreign players, managers and coaches. Consider the advances that Arsene Wenger and Gerard Houllier brought to English football, both of them receiving OBEs in 2003 for their contribution to the game.
Perhaps the most compelling argument for an English manager is that it keeps international competition a genuine test of the relative strengths of each nation – the best players under the best manager. Yet this too is undermined by the many other nations with foreign managers helping to maximise the potential of their players – look no further than across the Irish sea at another successful Italian helping a national side to over-achieve. In any case, until UEFA and FIFA mandate that managers must come from the country they represent, why should the FA impose such an artificial barrier on the England team? What England need is the most qualified coach for the job, not the most English.
So here we are, trapped in what Brooking refers to as a “mindset for change”, with the FA committed to employing an under-qualified English manager in one of international football’s toughest jobs. Not all change is for the better.
Marco Tardelli, 1982 the passion of being the best in the world
The passion, the tears, the beating of the arms like king kong, the relief of months of stress.
Italy had taken a huge beating from the media pre tournament and had gone into media blackout. Rossi was back and misfiring in the early group stages where Italy drew their 3 games (sound familiar?). After beating Argentina and arguably the best Brazil side ever, Italy beat West Germany in the final. Tardelli eyes bulging lets off months of stress in what, in my opinion is the great celebration ever. Still makes the hairs stand up on end.
Robbie Fowler in his pomp. Cheeky, bending over infront of Le Saux and banging them in for fun.
This celebration would probably lead to 4 weeks suspension and a sending off nowadays. Back then it was just great fun (this blog doesn’t promote drugs in any way).
Best bit about this celebration was that manager Gerard Houllier, suggested it might be a Cameroonian grass-eating celebration, picked up off team-mate Rigobert Song. Yeah…right.
1994 World Cup…Stand up (or knee down) Mr Finidi George.
The 1994 World Cup was full of great celebrations. Maradona (see below) and Bebeto’s now legendary baby swinging celebration (the baby that celebration played for the Brazil U17’s last month).
But our favourite was Finidi George, scores a goal for his country and then goes to the corner flag to urinate like a dog. Unbelievable stuff.
Henry’s arrogance
I didn’t like the vast majority of Henry’s celebrations, actually I hated them all. But something about this celebration was great.
About 35 yards out the referee is telling Henry to put the ball further back, after swinging in a fantastic goal he stands still, Ballotelli like and just asks (shouts) at the ref – is that enough? Is that enough.
Diego smacks it up
As mentioned above 1994 had so many great celebrations, this was probably one of the defining moments in Maradona’s footballing career.
After shedding weight and getting back into the team, Maradona picked up where he left off in 1990. Little did we know he was high on a cocktail of drugs.
The celebration was a hint though…
Sticking a flag in hell
Before he was a mild manners pundit Souness was not only a great player but also a less good manager. This celebration wasn’t after a goal he scored but after the Turkish Cup Final against the bitterest of bitter rivals Fenerbache.
Most people would want to get in, get the result and get out. Not Graeme. Souness decides that putting the Galatasary flag in the middle of Fenerbache’s pitch was the best way to play down the tension…Fantastic to watch though.
Gazza
So many Gazza celebrations, so little time that it could be a blog on their own (tweet us if you want to write it).
Roy Keane’s famous tirade against the “prawn sandwich brigade” highlighted how football’s traditions and soul were threatened by the creeping corporatisation of football.
Eleven years have now passed since Keane’s spluttered seafood salvo. Since then the inexorable march of commercial interests have made his complaints seem almost trivial, rather than a serious warning about the rot setting in at the heart of the game. The subsequent years of swelling TV revenues and global viewing figures have immunised the Premier League’s members against criticism. And, it seems, irony.
I was confronted with this horrible truth on a recent tube journey. Across the platform from me was a poster for Chelsea Football Club advertising it’s corporate hospitality packages and championing the quality of their prawn sandwiches. On the face of it the adverts seem astonishing. Maybe, they’re a cheeky way of reconnecting with ordinary fans? The answer though is no.
The adverts lack hint of irony or humility. They only impression they convey is arrogance. The sense that ordinary fans concerns about the soul of the game count for nothing against Chelsea’s desire to chase the corporate entertainment shilling. Chelsea are saying: “Football isn’t about you, and we don’t care if you know it.” The Premier League, it seems, has finally eaten itself.
“Sure I saw him forearm the lad McCarthy. But what can I say I’ve always been a Manchester United fan so I was never going to send Rooney off.” So says Mark Clattenburg explaining his decision to turn a blind eye to a seemingly obvious red card offence.
Speaking later in the week Martin Atkinson explained his decision to send Nemanja Vidic off in the dying moments of the game: “Every time I have a game with him he’s always bitching and moaning about this or that decision. I’d been looking for a chance to send him off all game and teach him a lesson. He tugged the shirt, I thought, thank you very much and pulled out the red.”
Of course none of this happened. I made it all up. The referees in question said no such thing. Unfortunately, they abide by the rules of their employers and maintain a stoic silence as Alex Ferguson ignores the rules applying to him about questioning referees integrity. So much for the FA’s respect agenda.
The trouble is referees are an easy target for managers for the simple reason they can’t answer back. You can heap abuse and derision upon them, and if you’ve got a big enough reputation like the Govan gobshite Fergie then you’re probably not even worried about getting punished.
But what if referees could answer back? And what if referees could actually fire the opening salvos in a war of words with a manager?
Imagine if Howard Webb, ahead of Manchester derby, spoke about how Rio Ferdinand had harangued him in the tunnel after the last game. “I hope Rio doesn’t try tackling in the box. Any excuse to give a penalty and I’m pointing at the spot.”
If referees were allowed to mark the card of players and referees I think we’d find there’d be a sudden a new found respect for the match officials. I’m guessing managers would find themselves having a new found sympathy for that difficult offside decision. All for fear of antagonising the same referee at any future fixture. The FA could even start choosing referees on the basis of promoting their respect agenda. Courteous behaviour could be rewarded with a sympathetic referee.
And unapologetic recalcitrant’s like Ferguson? Well they could find themselves with Martin Atkinson every week.
Yes, it’s an obvious one that annoys us all, but it’s probably the single most irritating habit of all commentators, and it reared its head again after the recent 4-4 result between Arsenal and Newcastle when one BBC pundit pointed out that this was the first such comeback in “the Premier League era”. So what? So bloody what? Some of us, millions of us in fact, remember football before 1992. There were records then too – over 100 years of records and history as it goes. It was even on TV. In colour! What is this obsession with the arbitrary era beginning in 1992? After all, all that happened was that the top division decided to keep their own TV money and ‘rebrand’ Division One as the Premiership. There was even the same number of teams. We don’t refer to Manchester United as the best team of the Rumbelows Cup era, do we? It’s bad enough when Sky do it to protect the Premier League ‘franchise’ but you expect more from the BBC.
2. Quarterback role
What? A quarter what? Is that a burger? This is one that has crept into football journalism and punditry over the last decade and it makes my blood boil. It seems that we’re not content with describing midfielders as ‘attacking’ or ‘deep lying’ or even ‘holding’. Hell, if you’re feeling particularly flamboyant, you can even describe them as playing ‘in the hole’. But ‘quarterback’?!?! Football is not, and never has been, an American sport. I first heard this during Sven Goran Eriksson’s ill fated experiment with David Beckham as a deep lying midfielder (another ‘DB7′ vanity project) launching balls up to England’s forwards. Since then, it has crept into use for any midfielder who has no pace and sprays long passes about. Not to mention it’s a fairly grandiose title for a player who simply horses it into the mixer. Does this make Paul Warhurst a quarterback? And what next? Will we introduce other sporting positions into the football lexicon? Will we soon be describing Iniesta as a world-class point guard? Will we laud Ryan Giggs as the best silly mid-off in the Premier League era? (see what I did there?)
3. Makelele role
This is a bit of a mangling of numbers 1 and 2. Some cerebral football journos seem to think that there was no such position as holding midfielder before Claude Makelele, hence they’ve named it after him. Sure, he was great at it but he wasn’t the best ever and by no means the first, unlike Cruyff’s turn. It’s a bit like referring to centre forward as the Kevin Campbell role. Depending on your age and personal bias, you could equally call Makelele’s position: the Keane role, the Hamman role, the Robson role, the Dunga role, the Souness role, or even the Nobby Stiles role. The possibilities are endless. How about the Terry Yorath role?
4. First name terms
Brian Clough must turn in his grave at the familiarity with which today’s pundits refer to players. It’s frighteningly common to hear Jamie ‘My Trousers Are Made Of Chrome’ Redknapp referring to how well Frank played today, or how good Stevie was. Who? Frank? Frank McAvennie? Frank Sinclair? Oh, Frank Lampard! He’s not our cousin, ‘Jamie’. We just know him as ‘Lampard’ (or possibly something less flattering). It’s not just Redknapp, they’re all at it. I heard Steve Claridge refer to him as Frank the other day – as if Claridge is a good friend of Lampard’s! It’s a peculiarly English affliction though, reserved for the Anglo-Saxons in the Premier League – Wayne, Jamie, Ashley and so on,. I don’t hear anyone referring to Dimitar, Kolo, or Yossi. Given his difficulty with pronouncing Benayoun, David Pleat probably should call him Yossi. But then he’d probably end up calling him Jossy or Yassir.
5. World class
The term ‘world class’ is bandied around in football more often than the term ‘bandied around’. It’s used to describe everything and everyone (see also: ‘legend’). A pass or a tackle can now be ‘world class’, even if delivered just once by a carthorse right-back. Surely the term ‘world class’ must have some boundaries on context and longevity? Surely if Zidane scoring his third goal in a World Cup final is ‘world class’, the same can’t be said of a half decent cross whipped in behind Bournemouth’s defence by Danny Cadamarteri? It used to be that only the very best or the most special were deemed ‘world class’. It used to be that ‘world class’ was reserved for those players that had consistently delivered at the very pinnacle of the game. This week, I heard of a “world class performance” by Chris Eagles.
It seems to have picked up an illness that’s gradually weakening it year-on-year. It probably caught the illness when it failed to wash its handles after visiting the League Cup in hospital a few years ago. The symptoms are similar certainly – declines in attendance levels, a weakening of teams, reduced appeal etc. The doctors at the FA have been there before when the League Cup was first admitted. They gave teams involved at European level byes to later rounds to keep the bigger clubs interested, and reduced the number of games by eliminating two-leg ties in earlier rounds and eliminating replays in the hope of reinvigorating interest and halting the illness. The effects in that instance have been marginal at best. Which is why it is odd that the same therapy is being suggested as the magic cure to all of the FA Cup’s ills, with abolishing replays at the front of the line of suggestions to “improve” the tournament.
In the twenty years I’ve been a fan, many of my favourite moments have been in the FA Cup. Which is why it’s upsetting to see it in decline. This year has been no different. Home ties between lower league and Premiership teams have seen crowds nowhere near capacity. I saw Sheffield United vs Aston Villa in last month’s 3rd round, with the attendance falling below 17,000. 10 years ago that sort of game would have brought in a higher number. Both teams played their strongest teams, the game wasn’t on TV and ticket prices were substantially reduced – the stage should have been set for a much healthier crowd than what turned out. Other clubs have similarly reduced prices with little effect. The weekend saw a virtually full strength Man City take on Notts County in a half-empty Eastlands. Again, tickets had been largely reduced to try and encourage more people to go – the main effects being a likely loss of revenue for Notts County from the gate receipts.
The FA seem to think it’s simply a case of there being too many games, but really the reason why fans can no longer muster the same enthusiasm as they did in the past is that by and large the teams in the top 2 divisions on the whole aren’t that bothered. The Premiership consumes everyone’s attention. The teams fighting it out at the top or bottom feel they must rest their key players so that they can concentrate on more important matters – the need to finish in the top 4, or the fear of dropping out of the division, overrides the Cup. Man United overcame plucky Crawley by a small margin with their reserves, while over at Leyton Orient Arsenal’s reserves had to settle for a draw. The half-arsed approach to the competition by many of the top teams also cheapens the achievements of the teams they struggle against. I was delighted for Orient, particularly at a time when the Olympic Stadium award to West Ham threatens their future. But a draw against Arsenal reserves isn’t quite the same as a draw against Arsenal. It may be the case that the score would have been the same had Arsenal played the same XI that beat Barcelona – sadly we couldn’t find that out. The same could be said for the Man United game. Giant killing isn’t quite the same as it used to be. Deep down, the O’s fans will know this too. They will however be delighted at the prospect of the replay, and the crucial funds it will bring to the club.
Which brings me to the scrapping of replays idea. O’s chairman Barry Hearn made a passionate defence of replays this week. They are an important part of the FA Cup. For lower clubs, they can make a huge difference to both their prospects in and revenue from the competition. Scrapping them would be to the benefit of the big clubs, and the detriment of the small. Extra time rather than replays would likely favour the bigger teams due to the fitness levels their players tend to have. Smaller clubs would find away trips to the top teams altogether tougher. If the FA wants to reform the Cup, it needs to look at other more substantial changes, rather than tweaks that will worsen the competition.
A better option could be to simply space out the rounds and have the final in the first week of June. It is already a disgrace that this year’s final coincides with a weekend of Premiership matches – let’s return this to being the season-ending occasion it used to be.
Also, perhaps it is time to put the League Cup out of its misery and turn off its life-support…
