Despite the drunken haze and Low Country malaise of Saturday, the best was yet to come. It arrived at 8.15 the following morning in the form of our obese bus driver, as he turned up, showered, shitted, and ready to navigate us slowly back to London. A quick stop at the hotel before heading to Wembley, the beautiful new jewel in the English crown. (We'll get to that later)
We boarded his tiny van and immediately discharged him of the responsibility of map-reading, because we had the overwhelming feeling that reading a colouring book might have proved too difficult. Bigus knew the roads from his home to the capital very well, and despite every effort by our driver to cock it up, we made the trip in record time.
And then, to Wembley, and what a sight it is. For a country so utterly hopeless with architecture, where hastily built housing estates dominate, the imposing sight of the new Wembley on the hill and its brilliant, cantilevered arch thing that serves no real function other than aesthetic (so forward-thinking, I know), is breathtaking. You soon forget what a pain in the arse it is to get there, what with heavy delays and overcrowding on the Tube line out to the stadium, and once we were liberated from our fart-stale van, a good mile out, we set about the backroads through an industrial estate to Wembley itself.
The first sight upon getting there was a large group of Man United fans, and the sight brought back nauseating memories of LFC/Man U games at Anfield. Even though the Carling Cup final opponents were Spurs, this particular rabble were singing and dancing songs about the Neville brothers and hating Scousers. It struck me as odd at the time, but in hindsight, those trollops can only focus on one team at a time, and regardless of their opposition, it always comes back to the Scouse.
It reminded me why I hate the Mancs; their missing genes and missing teeth are just the tip of the iceberg. On a proud day out, they waste their oxygen yakking about Liverpool. Granted, since then, our lads have spanked them in their own backyard, so maybe their songs come from a place of insecurity.
But I digress. This is about Tottenham, and their proud day out at Wembley!
We passed their encampment, a squalid little pub/bar with two floors and a front that made it look like a cross between a B&B and a halfway home. With police on horseback all over the place, the best we could hear were their Yid chants as they drank and drank at the wrong end of the stadium.
Moving around the front, we finally let RZM in on the secret: we were sitting in the Spurs Friends and Family section, in seats our friend had managed to procure from Jonathan Woodgate. I'm not sure what it says about Wooders that his allocated seats were so easily given away, but it was enough to send RZM on a punching frenzy. First, the air. Next, each one of us. That's just how he shows his affection, I suppose.
We got in and immediately set about sampling the pies. The bar was raised quite high by Delia the day before; after the Chicken Balti that was superb, Wembley's mass-produced stodge department had a cracker of their own in the ominous "meat" pie. Easily the highlight of the pie samplings we enjoyed on the trip, despite probably containing enough spare parts of animals and medieval butchering to fill a thousand outraged PETA propaganda videos. Another pie in quick succession and a couple more lukewarm lagers served in plastic cups (never trust a Yid with glassware) before we took our seats.
Walking up the passageway out to the stands is my favourite part of seeing live sport. The noise is tinny and funneled into your face as you get closer to the light, before it hits you full on like a Bigus curry fart once you see the pitch. It was gorgeous, as you'd expect; lush, pristine, well-groomed, and ready for the 120+ minutes of football that was about to take place.
The section of seating was right next to the media section where, in their little gated enclosure, the journalists and columnists would sit and watch, unimpressed, while their assistants frantically typed their reports for them and watched the replay monitors (we'd frequently get up and crane our necks to watch replays, something the giant screens at either end of the stadium didn't do too often). It's also the place where the pundits would horrendously misgrade the players for their performances, giving Jermaine Jenas sevens and eights where half that would have been more appropriate.
Back to the pre-game; it appeared that the Spurs fans won the early merchandise game, as the Yids were decked out with big blue-and-white Spurs flags while the Mancs weren't to be trusted with such potential weaponry. It wouldn't take much to snap the wooden dowel in half and start spearing hapless North Londoners, and so, they were merch-free (or maybe they couldn't afford it?). As the teams came out, the stadium was packed to capacity, with the Yids going through the chants (including, bafflingly, "Super Pavlyuchenko" ad nauseam), flags raised high and waved as one would expect.
The ad wizards at Carling had young ladies prancing across the pitch with giant Carling balloons, attached to which were small banners for each of the players starting the game. Each player had their own balloon, their own little banner thing, and their own disinterested, over-primped teenage girl doing the walk. It was as if the two giant Carling balloons, the center-circle Carling banner, and the pitch-side Carling hoardings wasn't enough. With every big sporting event, the corporation's gotta represent!
And so, to the game itself. 'Arry was the first manager to leave his dugout recliner in order to gesture wildly at his lads, while Fergie sat back like you'd expect him to, comfortable in his old age and safe in the knowledge that his team, at half-strength for the final, didn't need much prompting.
Surprisingly, it was a decent 0-0. United had the lion's share of the scoring chances, mostly from broken play and wild shots from distance, while Spurs had only two real bright spots: Luka Modric and Aaron Lennon. Jenas was a depressing specter in midfield, doing nothing to halt United's advances. Lennon showed pace and menace down the right-wing, giving the English a glimmer of hope in the "who will replace Becks on the right?" stakes, although it didn't matter how hard he tried, for Super Pavlyuchenko and Darren Bent were fucking hopeless. Reduced to cantering in pursuit of long-balls from the back four, Pavs' most significant contribution was a free-kick from 25 yards that nearly broke the big screen high above goal.
King and Woodgate were more than equipped to deal with Danny Welbeck, and while Assou-Ekotto gave Ronaldo miles of space to collect possession on the right, he always managed to do enough on his heels to disrupt the stepovers.
For United, their youngsters showed why they're not quite there yet, while several of the fringe players were equally anonymous. Tevez ran a lot to accomplish little; Nani was average, as was most of their midfield. Once Ferguson brought on Anderson to switch to a 4-5-1, 'Arry dutifully followed suit and any fizz in the game was quickly released. Both teams clogged the midfield and played the hopeful cross-field passing game in an attempt to get round the back.
O'Shea should have been sent off, and Ronaldo was booked for a dive-that-wasn't after BAE hacked him down at the edge of the box.
From there, it always looked like penalties. Despite late cameos from Bentley (crap) and Bale (surprisingly good on the left-wing; perhaps he should never play full-back again?), we closed with the inevitable; United, replete with slick technological advantages, won easily on penalties, including the hilariously poor effort from David Bentley. Why he moved to White Hart Lane, I'll never know.
RZM was despondent and quiet, despite several loud bursts of expletives at Bentley throughout extra-time; they were even more hilarious considering Bentley's folks were perched right behind us, muttering and sighing into their scarves. You know it's bad when even his family betray the same lack of confidence in their progeny as the 40,000 Yiddos packed around them.
Losing on penalties left him mute, and so we filtered out and battled the masses while trying to get down to Holborn so Bigus could do beers and banter with some old friends. On the tube away from Wembley, a proud, rugby-obsessed father sat opposite RZM and me, with his smug, red-headed daughter snuggled next to him. Over the course of the 30-minute ride, she near reduced our Yid to tears with her barbs, for which he had little in the way of G-rated comeback. A depressing end to a disheartening day.
Pies, penalties and David Bentley.
We closed the night with bitters, soju and Korean food before decamping to the hotel for a nightcap and a few short hours rest. It didn't matter, as we missed our flight home.
All in all, Norwichomon was a raving success, and I look forward to next year, ever hopeful that we'll squeeze in a trip to Anfield. My digestive system is grateful for 11 months of rest in the meantime.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Norwichomon. Sunday: LB
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Introducing... Norwichomon
We've not mentioned it on the site yet, but Bigus and I, along with Relegation Zone Mikey (the hapless Yiddo referenced from time to time in Hirshey's old DS column) and a couple of others, are heading to England tonight for a spot of live footy.
The cumulative effect of weeks and months of desperate searching for pirated feeds has finally broken us down, and it's high time for a little trip.
And what better weekend than this one in front of us?
We won't be blogging live or anything, as that would be insane; however, we'll be putting together some reports from the road, undoubtedly having two very different impressions of the same events.
And so, Norwichomon was born, the chance for us to report on his beloved Colaship team, as well as the spectacle of New Wembley, the lop-sided nature of the fixture on paper, and the wonderful bureaucracy known as the FA in action.
Our schedule is light, but deadly:
- Norwich City v. Coventry City on Saturday, in what promises to be a must-win for those relegation-threatened Canaries
- Man United v. Spurs in the Carling Cup Final on Sunday.
We'll try and grab a few pictures along the way, including some from a scheduled night out with some of the Norwich players and coaches. We can't promise much, but you can bet I'll be trying to pull a Gerrard and get some DJ knocked out should he not play any Phil Collins.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Yes We Can Open Thread
You'll have to forgive us. Between the MLK holiday yesterday, Obama's inauguration today and the Liverpool contingent still being curled up in the fetal position due to that Tim Cahill goal (making Cahill only the second Evertonian to score three goals at Anfield), things are a little slow in these parts.
But, the football must go on!
Today there are a smattering of midweek fixtures, the biggest of which is the return leg of Man U's Carling Cup draw against Derby. Man U are flying at the moment (sorry again, Liverpool), but the Red Devils still find themselves a goal down after Derby deservedly won 1-0 in the first leg. How many reserves will the Sir Alex Ferguson Experience send out in this one? Will Derby pull off the big upset?*
Also on the slate is the replay of the FA Cup match between Doncaster and Cheltenham, with the winner getting Aston Villa on Saturday. And, slightly down the tables, my beloved Exeter City take on Dag & Red as they try to get back on track and into the League Two promotion playoffs.
But enough of my yakking.... Why don't you have your say in the comment?
*The correct answers are five and no.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Y'know, this is one of those times...
... where I don't mind being completely and utterly wrong.
So the Nigel Clough era begins this weekend, and he takes over a side that's just beaten a fairly-strong Manchester United side, the current World Champions. What a letdown it will be when they lose at Cardiff this weekend.
See the winning goal here.
Carling Cup open thread: Like Rams to the Slaughter
Is there anyone on this planet that imagines Derby can unseat the high-priced, high-flying sulk machines of Manchester United? If so, please step forward. Burnley showed us last night just what going up 1-0 before half-time will get you: a 4-goal spanking from the restart. When a mediocre striker from Zenit is scoring goals, you know you're done for.
That said, it's Derby's turn to nip at the ankles of a proud EPL behemoth.
New manager
Rams striker Rob Hulse is bravely playing the media game, insisting that all the pressure is on United to beat them mercilessly over two legs (although really, a one-leg massacre and a 1-0 at Old Trafford will do the job):
We are the underdogs and we have got nothing to lose whereas United are expected to win, so we can just enjoy pitting our wits against some of the best players in the world. Being the favourites and being expected to win brings with it an added pressure. We have got to try and take advantage of that and make it difficult for them and if we can play and get the crowd behind us, we can give anyone a game. It is a cup game so you never know what could happen, but at the same time we know that whatever team they bring it will be packed full of experienced internationals and great players."Indeed Rob, this one's truly up in the air.
Come watch Fergie's reserves with us after the jump, with a possible Rodrigo Possebon sighting!
Lineups:
Derby: Carroll, Connolly, Todd, Nyatanga, Camara, Sterjovski, Green, Addison, Commons, Hulse, Davies.
Subs: Bywater, Savage, Teale, Barazite, Dickinson, Powell, Hines.
Man Utd: Kuszczak, Rafael Da Silva, Vidic, Evans, O'Shea, Anderson, Scholes, Gibson, Nani, Tevez, Welbeck.
Subs: Amos, Ronaldo, Rooney, Giggs, Carrick, Fletcher, Possebon.
Sad that Rodrigo only makes the bench, although young Welbeck's primed for his late, meaningless wonder strike. For Derby, a whole bunch of players I've never heard of who are charged with the task of protecting poor former United keeper Roy Carroll.
All joking aside, Phil Dowd's in charge, adding a whole new layer of chaos to the proceedings. Seriously: he's rubbish.
Read more on "Carling Cup open thread: Like Rams to the Slaughter"...
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Mickey Mouse Cup Open Thread
I'm jealous after seeing the Arsenal tweens absolutely massacre a nearly full-strength Wigan side yesterday. I wonder what Liverpool's 2nd XI will do against Spurs' 2nd XI?
3 games on tap... join us after the jump, won't you?
The schedule and lineups: (all kick-off at 2.45pm ET)
Chelsea vs. Burnley
Chelsea: Cudicini, Ivanovic, Alex, Belletti, Bridge, Ferreira, Deco, Mineiro, Malouda, Drogba, Kalou.
Subs: Hilario, Lampard, Di Santo, Mikel, Sinclair, Terry, Woods.
Burnley: Jensen, Alexander, Duff, Caldwell, Jordan, Eagles, Gudjonsson, McCann, Elliott, Blake, Paterson.
Subs: Penny, McDonald, Akinbiyi, Mahon, Rodriguez, Kay, MacDonald.
=====
Sunderland vs. Blackburn
Sunderland: Fulop, Bardsley, Nosworthy, Ferdinand, Collins, Henderson, Whitehead, Richardson, Malbranque, Cisse, Jones.
Subs: Colgan, Tainio, Diouf, Murphy, Leadbitter, Reid, Kay.
Blackburn: Robinson, Simpson, Khizanishvili, Samba, Olsson, Kerimoglu, Derbyshire, Mokoena, Treacy, Fowler, Haworth.
Subs: Brown, Ooijer, Warnock, Nelsen, Roque Santa Cruz, Villanueva, Judge.
=====
Tottenham vs. Liverpool
Tottenham: Gomes, Hutton, Dawson, Corluka, Bale, Lennon, Zokora, Huddlestone, O'Hara, Pavlyuchenko, Campbell.
Subs: Cesar, Bentley, Bent, Modric, Gunter, Boateng, Rocha.
Liverpool: Cavalieri, Dossena, Hyypia, Agger, Degen, Babel, Leiva Lucas, Ngog, Plessis, Torres, El Zhar.
Subs: Gulacsi, Riera, Alonso, Benayoun, Insua, Carragher, Darby.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Well, that's one competition out of the way
Stupid F*cking Bolton (a UF original moniker) continue to draw our ire with their snooze-inducing style of play, and the sheer injustice that they manage to linger in the EPL rather comfortably despite having absolutely no players of merit whatsoever.
The final straw for me was the rather cynical decision to give up in last season's UEFA Cup, a tournament that they could have battled through a bit longer, in order to concentrate on securing their survival in the top flight for one more season. I can understand why they did it, but it still bothers me greatly.
Well, you can argue that they just threw another one as they bomb out of the Carling Cup in the 2nd round, falling to Northampton, a team currently in their own league struggles... a full two divisions below in League One.
Gary Megson feigned disappointment and disgust, but are we really surprised?
After the jump, highlights from Newcastle's 3-2 extra time win over Coventry, and perhaps a demonstration of how you escape embarrassment at the hands of a lower-league opponent. Megson should take notes.
Stupid F*cking Bolton: polluting a pitch near you since 1874.
Read more on "Well, that's one competition out of the way"...
Monday, July 7, 2008
Starving at The Emirates
This picture must be at least 3+ years old.
Summer workouts may be just a couple days old, but Arsenal's Pranging Pederast of a manager is already in Boxing Day form.
He was telling anyone who would listen this weekend that stadium debt amassed during the construction of the Emirates will force Arsenal to sell their best players every off-season for the next two decades.
The club is paying off a £24 million per year mortgage on their 80,000 seat corporate bowl.
Choice Arsenisms after the jump...
"The strategy of the club is to sell every year and to buy less expensive players." "We manage at Arsenal to maintain all our football ambitions - national and European - while having to free up - for 17 more years - an annual surplus of £24m to pay for our stadium." "The club's strategy is to favour the policy of youngsters ahead of stars and to count on the collective quality of our game." “If I had the power to change anything basic in football, it would be the transfer system which makes mercenaries of players.”
These comments were all reported across numerous media platform:
Mr. Wenger, the floor is yours...“If they are bad ones, they stay and, if they are good, they think only of leaving.”
And an old classic, from after that game:
from Jan. 22, 2008:"The score is very brutal, but doesn't reflect what I've seen on the pitch... The first shot on goal was a goal. The second was an own goal. The third was straight after half-time... After that, the game was over and they could focus on defending well and catching us on the break. I don't give too much meaning to the scoreline."
Instant Classic.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Wearing Those Colors in South Central Will Get You Shot
There's a Championship this weekend.
The FA Cup? Nope. The Premiership? uh-uh. The Champions League? No, sorry.
And damn Hirshey for beating us to "The Sippy Cup."
No, it's the Carling Cup and it features a Chelsea team that has played maybe two quality opponents in the past two months (and are 0-1-1 in those matches) versus the cock and balls (aka Tottenham).
Word on the street (and by 'street' I mean a few blogs) is that Spurs fans are paying around £600 for tickets whereas similar seats in Chelsea sections are going for £200.
That tells me one thing.
Jesus, people are willing to pay a lot of money for a largely meaningless match.
I guess if you haven't won anything of note since, what, the '91 FA Cup (and I'm not going to go look it up because A) I'm not allowing Tottenham to take up more of my time and B) this is a blog and, as such, almost encourages lazy journalism) then you get a little desperate.
If you barrack for Spurs, that's probably a nice looking hooker you could get for £600 instead. At least then, you'd know what it's like to score. Although 'nice looking' and 'hooker' might be mutually exclusive in England.
This week's fixtures from on-high:
0-0
0-1
3-2
2-2
2-2
1-1
1-0
0-3
1-1
Bonus League Cup score. Take it to Vegas...
2-1
...and see if they even give a shit about this match.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Dickstomp.
[Cheers to Bigus Dickus for the snapshot]
The "Dickstomp".
It's an especially sweet, humiliating form of torture, one that longtime Arsenal fan and Deadspin writer David Hirshey has enjoyed dishing out to the EPL rank-and-file for some time now.
In Tottenham's case, they've been dickstomped enough to be reclassified as being positively female, their genitals now a pallid, gray mash thick with bootprints and ridicule.
Well, last night, it was Arsenals' babies who felt the cruel smash of shoe-on-groin.
Hirshey, Bigus Dickus and myself gathered to enjoy the game in midtown, and by the hour mark, Hirsh had packed up and scurried back to the office, muttering something about having flap copy to write. From the third minute onwards, after Jenas' jinking run-and-shoot goal amid a sea of pubescent Gooners, you had a bizarre thought in the back of your mind: will this turn into a rout? It did, thanks to further goals from Lennon, Keane, Malbranque and a superbly-headed own goal by Bendtner. Arsenal tried their best to keep it competitive; after an early injury to Denilson, Fabregas leapt off the bench to play 75 minutes. Wenger's excuses about it being a young side were shaky at best from the get-go, with Gallas captaining and playing his first game in the Carling Cup for three years, and the decidedly non-youth team presence of Sagna and Hleb for the full 90. After the fourth Spurs goal, one which saw Goon keeper hiding his face from the shot, Wenger sent Eduardo and Adebayor into the game for reasons best left unknown. And in proof that dickstomping can be successfully applied to oneself, Adebayor butted Bendtner in the nose, prompting such a row on the field that the FA's requested footage of the incident. As a Scouser, it irritates me that Arsenal do not lose very often, but they need to remember this feeling. It's important to know how to lose with grace, and casting all the youth and inexperience comments aside, their on-field petulance and fondness for dirty from-behind tackles in the last third of the game was hilarious to watch. This is Spurs' biggest win against Arsenal for almost 25 years, and their first win against the Goon since 1999. And while it's only one game in a middle-of-the-road knockout tournament, it still feels good. Seeing a big team get embarrassed every once in a while gives the pretenders hope. It lets you know that the game is still all about who wins in the 90 minutes, regardless of current form. Bendtner and co can put this to one side, say their apologies and get themselves ready for an EPL run that sees neither Spurs nor my Liverpool in the hunt for the trophy. It remains to be seen if Arsenal will have recovered their genitals for Keegan's jaunt into town this weekend. Photo Credit: Andrew Couldridge/Action Images
Malbranque's injury-time tap-in completed the rout, and ended Arsenal's long, arrogant run of consecutive wins in North London derbies.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Carling Cup Preview: You Are My Arsenal
I will freely admit that I came late to this party. It was only a few years ago that I started following Arsenal (I'm told that makes me a "Gooner"). There was no Simmonsesque process of elimination. Instead, it happened pretty naturally. Arsenal play beautiful football, their games were regularly on FSC, and I will freely admit to having a mancrush on a certain striker who used to wear the number 14 for Arsenal. If you're going to start following a foreign sports league, you might as well pick a pony to win, place or show (or, as the case may be with Arsenal recently, finish fourth). I bought my Arsenal scarf and kit, smiled at people on the street when they noticed them, and pretty much went about my business like any other fair-weather fan of a foreign sports team.
The only problem is that the closest bar in my neighborhood that shows football also happens to be home to the Spurs support club. Said bar is the home of Spurs supporters because, I'm told, they have been kicked out of every other football bar in New York. These supporters are not in any way like the chosen people they so like to align themselves with. In other words, there was no wandering through the desert looking for a home. You see, the Jews (of which me and a certain Dave Hirshey are proud members) are polite, well-meaning people. These Spurs supporters are nothing like that. No, I've learned that this particular tribe is rather loud and arrogant. And I'm still not sure why, other than it has to do with overcoming certain anxieties and lack of confidences.
It was in early September that I wandered into Floyd to see the much-anticipated Arsenal versus Manchester United match. As you may recall, Arsenal was at the top of table. The game ended in a hard-fought draw thanks to a last-minute Gallas equalizer. The late match was Spurs-Middlesbrough, so Floyd was filled with Spurs supporters waiting for their team to play. And wouldn't you know that the Spurs fans were cheering against me and the few other people wearing Arsenal gear. As impressive as it was that so many Spurs supporters could sing in unison, it was all pretty silly and frankly none of us who were there to see Arsenal play really cared. But, when the game ended in a draw, there was a huge cheer and songs and dancing and clapping and wagging of fingers. Remember, Arsenal were top of the table and they had just got a tough draw against Man U. Meanwhile, Spurs were deep in the relegation zone and, later that day, Spurs got the same result as Arsenal –- only against Middlesbrough.
Which brings me to today’s Carling Cup fixture between Arsenal and Spurs, and a point about disparate expectations. For Dimitar Berbatov, tonight will be the Spurs' match of the year. For Arsenal, it's just another chance to humiliate their north London rivals. Hoo hum. How disparate are the expectations between these two teams? Such that injuries and African Cup of Nations absences mean that Wenger has to resort to starting first team members such as William Gallas, with Fabregas, Adebayor, Hleb and Sagna also having been named in the squad. That's right, Wenger has to change his game plan of letting the toddlers beat Spurs's starters. And it's really a win-win for Arsenal, no matter how much celebrating there will be if Spurs win. If Arsenal loses, they get to concentrate on the Champion's League, Premiership and FA Cup. If Arsenal wins, it's a trip to Wemberley for the kiddies. Oh, and another humiliating defeat to the Arsenal for those Spurs fans who populate Floyd.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Fun with Punditry
The new Boy Band debuts... meet Bland in Demand: Shearer, Lawrenson, Lineker and Hansen
[Far be it for me to imitate Fire Joe Morgan, but let's face it, there's so much FJM-ing to be done in the futbol world]
---
Alan Hansen, come on down! You've been writing a regular column for BBC Sport for some time, and yet your imagined New Year's resolution to make sense when you write/talk is already showing signs of failing.
Today, your Carling Cup semi-final preview gave us just enough of your heady journalistic blend: a teaspoon of technical knowledge, a pinch of prediction, and a gallon of complete aimlessness. Sure, the Carling Cup isn't that prestigious anymore since it became swamped with branding and the Sir Alex-led practice of putting out 2nd XIs throughout the competition, but make no mistake, Hansen's got his finger on the pulse:
"But when you get to the semi-finals and there's a place at Wembley at stake, then suddenly it becomes a much bigger competition. The players involved on Tuesday and Wednesday will certainly be feeling that way."Genius. The competition becomes more important, the closer you get to actually having a chance to win it!
But there's more. Hey Alan, what can we expect from the Everton v. Chelsea encounter?
"Don't forget that Everton have already drawn 1-1 with Chelsea at Stamford Bridge this season, so there will be no question of David Moyes's side going into the game with any fear. It will be a lot tighter than a lot of people are expecting."Brilliant insight! I was fully expecting a 7-0 whitewash, statistically defiant in the face of current form, injuries and the results of previous fixtures.
Regarding Arsenal v. Spurs, Hansen offers several other, utterly useless nuggets of insight:
"If, as we expect, Arsene Wenger perseveres with his policy of playing the youngsters and reserves and Tottenham play their full-strength first team, then you'd expect Spurs to win.Dare I ask the expert for a score prediction?
But then again, you might have thought that last year.
On paper, Spurs should have won those games, but the kids at Arsenal are no mugs and should not be taken lightly. I don't think Spurs will make that mistake this time around."
"Ultimately, if Spurs defend properly then they've got every chance, but if they play poorly at the back as they have done at times this season, then there's nothing there for them."Amazing. If Spurs prevent Arsenal from scoring, they themselves have a chance to win. But, if they defend badly, they will lose.
It's a frequently-witnessed event in punditry: the column that meets word count targets and yet fails to deliver any information that isn't common sense or plainly obvious. Everton/Chelsea is apparently too close to call, whereas Spurs' hopes of victory are directly connected to their ability to defend properly.
Alan Hansen was a tremendous player for my mighty Reds. He defended with aplomb and tenacity, and yet, any effort he made to push forward and dribble the ball frequently ended in disaster and embarrassment.
I dare say Hansen's record with the written word is following this same trend.
Read more on "Fun with Punditry"...
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