As if the strict hour (and 36 minutes) of the previous podcast wasn’t enough for you, the latest and possibly/possibly not greatest podcast has been recorded, edited, censored, de-slanderised, and uploaded for your viewing pleasure. This week the Extremists discuss the Manchester Derby, a special guest’s dream comes true, Soccer AM experiences its death rattle, and some other nonsense.
Finally, after a much longer wait than necessary, the first (or ninth podcast, depending on who you’re talking to), has arrived. It’s actually been ready for about a week but Gak couldn’t remember the password to his Dropbox account. The Extremists discussed ‘current’ affairs, their favourite goals of all time, something else, and a factually incorrect, unfunny football story.
Remember to keep an eye out while listening to click on the verbal links to view videos of the goals in question. And keep your ears peeled until after the end credits, for several delicious Easter eggs.
Download here: http://bit.ly/RbyNti
Tumblr is a piece of shit that doesn’t save your drafts, and I can’t be bothered starting over. Just had to get that off my chest. Oh, and here’s a funny picture.
When it comes to Manchester United I must admit I find it hard to be objective. I am an optimist, which I think is for the best. When I hear people criticise my precious football club, I feel like I am pre-programmed to defend each of the players from any and all eras of Sir Alex’s glorious tenure.
The current criticism I’m hearing most frequently, from the man in the street to the ‘expert’ ex-professionals who pollute our televisions, is that this current Red Devils side have ‘no midfield’.
This has made me angry verging on irate on an alarmingly frequent basis. I tend to resort to shouting an extensive list of names in response: “Carrick, Scholes, Cleverley, Kagawa, Anderson, Fletcher, Giggs, Jones, Powell!”
You would assume that angrily yelling this list of names would be the end of the argument. No further debate necessary, all is well at the Theatre of Dreams. If that’s what you think, I would advise you to take a seat and read on in the knowledge that this is not the case at all. It turns out that the list of names I scream into people’s faces generally leads them to two conclusions:
So let’s take a step back from any emotional attachment I have to the club, and ignore the little boy inside me (I mean that in the purest possible sense). Is the United midfield in need of major surgery?
The first point to be considered is the popular belief that United desperately need a holding midfield player. The boss was directly asked about this during a press conference in May 2012, and he opined: “I don’t think we’ve had a holding player since I’ve been here. We’ve never had a holding player”. He went on to reference the Spanish trio of Fabregas, Xavi and Iniesta. These pint-sized magicians certainly know how to boss a game, as proven against United in a couple of Champions League finals. That being said, even they generally play alongside the physically capable and defensively-minded Sergio Busquets.
So with all the midfield options already at the disposal of Sir Alex, why do opposing fans scoff at this current crop of Red Devils? I suppose the first reason would have to be physical weakness. Is there anyone in the guise of Robson, Ince or Keane? A midfield warrior who can grab a game by the scruff of the neck, and drag the rest of his team to a victory? A leader who cannot only play, but can firmly let the opposition know that he is there by giving them a good, healthy, welcome-to-the-game clatter? In all honesty, probably not. Darren Fletcher at his very best may come close. Sadly, even an optimist like me isn’t hopeful he’ll return to his former level. Perhaps Phil Jones is the answer? Then again, perhaps not.
Like every other United fan, I love Paul Scholes. I genuinely rate him as the best English player of his generation by a country mile. However, it scares me how reliant this team is on a 38 year old with limited mobility. It scares me even more that his direct replacement is a 39 year old with understandably limited mobility. This must be Scholes’ last season, and yet he is still the go to guy when United are in trouble. Spurs’ recent win at Old Trafford was a worrying indication that a high level team with the power and pace of Dembele and Bale no longer need to resign themselves to defeat when visiting Manchester. After a first half of pace and aggression that largely passed him by, Scholes controlled the second half of that game and almost turned it on its head, but what happens next season if he is in the stands watching his beloved Oldham Athletic when United find themselves in need of a ginger midfield saviour?
United have a good midfield with good players. It is a midfield that can cruise to victory against most Premier League teams by outplaying and out-passing them. I am comforted by this thought. It is a midfield that is comfortably good enough, and with enough strength in depth, to be there or thereabouts when domestic honours are being picked up come May. So what’s the problem?
Watching United in a big game, like a European knock out fixture or a Manchester derby, makes me feel a bit like how I used to feel on a first date. I was excited that things could go well, and thrilled at the prospect of things working out; but ultimately with the really good looking girls, terrified that I’d do something stupid, and then would lack the experience and robust character to turn things around and stick one in late on. Like the United midfield I also lacked the physical strength to bully my date (opposition) into submission.
I trust the boss and I can understand why he has put his faith in this current crop of players. There is potential in a lot of the younger players that he is obviously looking to exploit, the development of the now 23 year old Tom Cleverley probably being the most notable, although his most consistent trait has been his injury record to date. My concern is not that this will never be a very good United team, but rather that it will not be a great United team. I gave up on the unacceptably tubby Anderson about two years ago and he hasn’t convinced me I was off the mark. Kagawa looks good but not inspiring. Nick Powell looks bright but more of a number 10, of which there are already numerous options.
Maybe I’m living in the past and football has moved on. Maybe this United team will evolve into a free-flowing, swash-bucking ‘bastion of invincibility’ that simply does not require the snarling dominance of a Roy Keane figure. I agree that a holding midfield player is not a necessity to win the top competitions. Being realistic though, I think United need another option to take them to the next level. I would rest so much easier watching a midfield with Yaya Toure or even Marouane Fellaini- a midfield destroyer who doesn’t go missing when the going gets tough. I never liked Claude Makelele and didn’t understand the hype he received with his now widely acclaimed ‘Makelele role’. I would not want to see a United side that surrendered a valuable midfield position to stifling the opposition. What I would like to see is a midfielder with a bit of steel who would let someone like Stoke’s Michael Kightly know who the boss is when he has the gall to think he can run and score from the halfway line at Old Trafford like he did recently.
I know I’ve been spoiled over the years with the football Fergie’s teams have treated me to over the years. Maybe that’s why I’m an optimist. Unfortunately, I can’t help but fear the glory days are approaching the end unless the tinker man performs some midfield surgery. He should maybe throw in a couple of new full backs while he’s at it!
Theoretically, international football is the absolute pinnacle of any player’s career. Proudly representing your homeland, fighting tooth and nail to get a result against other teams with comparable national pride. The thought of representing your nation at a major finals should fill your belly with immense gratification, and give any individual excitement jitters of the like you could otherwise only experience if you were 8 years old and your dad somehow buys you the batmobile for Christmas.
Realistically, even the most partisan nationalist could not argue that this is the case. Certainly not in Europe anyway. Former Arsenal and France midfield dynamo Patrick Vieira had this to say recently: “When I grew up, I wanted to play for the French national team. That was my target, my dream, and I don’t think this is the same for the Under 16s and Under 18s in England. I don’t think the young players are dreaming of playing for the national team any more. I believe they are not as proud as they used to be”. Ignoring the fact that Vieira has evolved into an overly opinionated footballing blabbermouth, this is interesting, though not surprising.
Vieira is not long retired. Despite this, he was brought up in an era of football when playing for your national team was the absolute pinnacle of achievement. The World Cup finals were the main event, the crème de la crème, the highest of highs or the lowest of lows depending upon your performance. It was the top level of football on the planet by roughly a million miles. When the game of football first registered in my own psyche, the year was 1990. My earliest football memories were of World Cup Italia ’90: Gazza’s tears (and subsequent fake and then very real boobs), Lineker’s rifled equaliser in the same game against the loathsome West Germany team, Roger Milla’s dad-dancing and Diego Maradona’s brilliance. Compared to watching the early stages of the Rumbelow’s Cup the following season, there was no contest. It was a massive come down until Euro ’92 and USA ’94 rolled into my consciousness.
In hindsight, I can make some sense of this. The English Premier league commenced in August 1992. On the opening weekend of fixtures, there were 13 non-UK players. One of those players was Ronnie Rosenthal.
International football was a window beyond the honest work rate of, with all due respect, Kevin Richardson, Carlton Palmer and Geoff Thomas. It was a chance to see, forgive me for getting sentimental, proper footballers who had the effortless ability to entertain, like Ruud ‘sexy football’ Gullit, Roberto Baggio and Romario.
Fast forward to the present. Last season in England’s Premier League, of the 522 players who took to the field during the season, only 212 were English. Amongst the non-English contingent of the league, there were 68 different nationalities. Manchester United have the highest rates of worldwide revenue compared to any other club in the world. Chelsea and Manchester City are respectively bankrolled by the gut-wrenchingly wealthy Roman Abramovich and Sheikh Mansour. A Sky Sports subscription gives us access to these English-based dream teams, featuring the elite players of world football. If that isn’t enough for you, watch the Spanish Primera Liga. Barcelona and Real Madrid tend to play some pretty decent stuff I hear.
The Champions League is, in the opinion of any sane person, the highest level of football available for the viewing pleasure of your average armchair dweller. Teams with bottomless budgets are unrestricted by petty issues like player nationality. They can buy the best from anywhere in the globe. South Americans are now as commonly found in Torquay as they are in Santiago or Caracas.
Consequently, the average football fan greets the prospect of an impending international week as if it were a trip to the dentist. The qualifying campaign for the World Cup 2014 is like a great big week-long collective groan. Fans just want to get through it to get to the next round of their club’s fixtures – games they actually care about. Why would we want to watch England versus San Marino? So many games are not even a legitimate contest. You can pick the teams that are going to qualify from a group before it’s even started, it’s just a question of how much they win it by.
So, has international football passed its sell-by date? In my opinion, it has not. However, I must qualify that opinion. It needs a revamp. There is no issue with the finals of the big tournaments – the World Cup and the European Championship. History and prestige ensures that, even if they do not provide the highest standard of football, they are still the highest accolades in the sport. I wasn’t alive in 1982, but I can only imagine the impact Espana 82 had on our province when we rode on the crest of a wave and beat the Spanish hosts before honourable defeat in the second phase. No one can tell me international football is a waste of time after those glorious nights beating the ‘Golden Generation’ of English players at Windsor Park, followed by World champions elect Spain during the halcyon days of Lawrie Sanchez. Most recently, pride was restored in the national jersey by putting one Cristiano Ronaldo in his place on the night of his 100th cap, limiting the Portuguese to a single point in Porto.
These nights are few and far between. Pre-qualifiers for the smaller nations is surely a must in order to make the qualifying stages more compelling and more competitive. Let the weaker nations play amongst themselves if they are not at a level to compete with the big boys. By winning a few games against their level rivals, they could grow into a competitive footballing nation. Maybe then we could generate some qualifying games that people actually want to watch, and that players actually care about playing in. It’s very hard for a fan to care when they know that the average player is looking forward to getting back to their club and playing ‘proper’ football at the weekend.
I don’t want to come across as negative and cynical. International football can be excellent, as good as football gets. Players can have the best moments of their career playing for their national teams. But please, change the current qualifying system. Football has moved on, international football needs to move with it. Top nations need to platy other top nations. Maybe then, the players would actually care, and fans may even look forward to the international break.
By your glorious host, the handsome chap, Fergy ‘the bronzed adonis’ Lo
After a short layoff, the Extremists are back to discuss the latest Premier League action, international football, and where the Bronzed Adonis has gone wrong this week.
After a long layoff, the extremists are back to discuss all the latest happenings in the world of football. F-Lo, Kojak, P-Hitch, Dweezilini and Barry break down the summer transfer window and of course you get your regular features such as the Funny Football Story!
Download here - http://bit.ly/SF3Ddu
Here’s the Reasonable Extremes football podcast for the start of August. In this episode the Extremists discuss the transfer window, the upcoming season and have an in-depth chat about Nottingham Forest!
You can download the podcast in mp3 here: http://bit.ly/RovFcP
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