Too Slow for Catenaccio

It’s finally upon us, Hate Week, the week before the first U.S.-Mexico match of the new year. You might ask where hatred comes into it between the U.S. and El Tri, considering that El Tri gets beaten like the protagonist in a Lifetime original movie every time the two teams play outside of Azteca. It’s not about a historical animosity between the two countries like Germany-Holland (well, it might be on one side, and to that I say, Winfield Scott in your base). It’s not about a long tradition of thrilling soccer matches. It’s simple: pure, unfiltered, hatred. Not of the country, just the soccer team. They’re a bunch of good-for-nothing prima donnas who expect their opponents to give up when they’re on the same field as the mighty Mexico. That sort of attitude is annoying as hell out of England and their fans, but they’ve at least won something. Mexico hasn’t won a damn thing outside of the CONCACAF ghetto, and they probably never will. Within the CONCACAF ghetto, it’s been a while. The days are gone when they could show up and beat the stuffing out of Guatemala et. al. without trying. There’s only one team in the region that can do that now, and they’re not wearing green. The team is classless in defeat and…well, who knows what they’re like when they win? It’s been a while.

To get the bad taste out of your mouth, may I suggest the video below the fold, the most sublime moment of soccer awesome the USMNT has produced since 2002:

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Suck it, Barca

I’ve avoided talking about the big Arsenal transfer of the window because, well, I thought there was no chance that Arsene would pony up the (inflated) fee for the Zenit playmaker. And, you know, there’s this and all. But, apparently, Arsene has pulled an, uh, owl, out of his hat at the last minute. Or, as it turns out, after the last minute, since the Premier League extended the transfer window an indeterminate number of hours because of snow.

If you’ve been following this story, then you’re just as glad as I am to have it done with. Yesterday started with rumors of Arshavin sightings outside of London and reports that the deal was done. But then, Arshavin’s spokesman said that the deal was off because Arsenal was treating Arshavin “like a 16 year old African.” Then came rumors that the deal was back on, then off again, then the league extended the window, and finally, around 11ish here, solid reports about the signing began to appear on the internets. And that was just one day.

When you add up all the private planes to and from Dubai, London, Paris and Moscow and the elaborate haggling over middlemen’s fees and the like, the whole thing took on the air of a bad Ian Fleming novel, minus the casual racism and sadism. But now it’s over, and Arsenal fans the world over can swoon over a terribly overrated creative midfield player who I’m sure will solve all the team’s defensive problems. On the plus side, Arsene now coaches Arshavin at Arsenal, and that’s worth at least a chuckle, like Eboue’s shooting.

I’ve been told that there are other teams that made significant moves, and in the interest of plurality, I should probably mention them as well, at least the teams that did something interesting:

The biggest news is that Tottenham has stumbled upon a new transfer model. Instead of overpaying for flash-in-the-pan sexy players, they’ve decided to overpay for players who used to play for Tottenham. This way, their fans can progress through the soul-crushing and finger-pointing without having to go through hopeless optimism first. Although the typical Tottenham supporter has the attention span of a puppy and is distracted by shiny things, even they know that Pascal Chimbonda kinda sucks.

They’ve also brought in Carlo Cudicini, the forgotten man at Chelsea, who was at the start of a very promising career before Peter Cech was brought in and supplanted him. Despite his obvious talent, Cudicini earned the title of “least ambitious man alive” by staying at Chelsea for these past four years, content to sit on the bench and draw a paycheck.  “Least ambitious man alive?” Perfect for Spurs.

Epic crazy utterly failed to come to Man City, the way we all predicted, and secretly wished. The world’s richest club now enjoys the services of Wayne Bridge, Craig “Fore!” Bellamy, Shay Given and Nigel de Jong. It’s almost as if Mark Hughes is trying to spend his money wisely on players with a proven track record in order to meaningfully strengthen his squad. Well, okay, 14 million pounds for Craig Bellamy is a bit much, but Manchester City is the new, less-hateable Chelsea, and they will always have to pay that premium for players regardless of their ability or lack thereof.

I’ve been trying not to think about the upcoming US-Mexico game until Hate Week starts on the 8th, but some things are just too good to be true. Like this si.com headline: “Mexicans turning to voodoo to beat United States.” Obviously this game means much more in Mexico than it does here, ranking somewhere in between a presidential election and Baja California sliding into the sea, but still, a little, you know, perspective, not to mention class, would be nice (I know, I know, expecting class out of El Tri or their fans is like getting blood from a stone). Failing that, I’ll settle for a thorough asskicking on the 11th.

Weird things happen to people who cross Alex Ferguson. Rafa Benitez lost his damn mind just last week, and now Ramon Calderon (who Ferguson apparently “wouldn’t sell a virus to”) is out as President of Real Madrid after being forced to resign thanks to a vote-fixing scandal. While I know that we’re all shocked, shocked to see someone at Real Madrid try to subvert democracy, it’s hilarious that Calderon had to sink to the level of ballot box-stuffing to get his way over a vote on the budget, instead of his normal tack of promising extravagant signings and league championships by the bushel (then again, it seems like it’s fairly normal in Spain for club president candidates to center their campaigns around buying a specific player or players). Calderon has also been accused of using club credit cards to fund his personal lifestyle, bribing voters in a previous elections with season tickets (In all fairness, this is nothing more than Silvo Berlusconi would do in an actual election.). It makes me wonder what would happen if the concept of voting for club executives spread to, say, football. Could Detroit recall the Fords? Would Warriors fans revolt, form a breakaway team and slay Chris Mullin?

Regular readers, both of you, might have noticed that I am not Calderon’s biggest fan, thought I hardly need another reason to despise Real. It’s not just that he ran one of my least-favorite clubs, it’s not just that he comes off as an arrogant, know-nothing, blowhard (can’t fault him for that if you write a blog!), it’s that he treats the world, outside of Madrid and Barcelona as Real’s feeder team. Obviously those sorts of dynamics are different across Europe (Bayern seems to be able to sign any Bundesliga player they want, no questions asked), but it’s irritating as hell to listen to him all summer and all throughout January publicly write up a transfer list and treat it as if he’s going to buy eggs at the Safeway down the street. Good riddance.

Apparently the beginning of Manchester City’s shopping spree to end all shopping sprees begins with Gerrard, Villa, Ribery, Benzema. Wayne Bridge. Sure he’s a nice player, but he’s hardly the caliber of some of the names bandied about Manchester in the past months. Damnit, when Arab oil sheiks enter any market we don’t just expect them to throw money at the problem, we expect them to through ludicrous amounts of money at the biggest, crassest, most tasteless things money can buy. In this case, we’re expecting a Football Manager lineup consisting of 10 Ronaldinho clones and Gigi Buffon. But Wayne Bridge? Hell, Wigan could afford Wayne Bridge. This is what they get with their filthy lucre? If Wayne Bridge is the biggest splash they can muster, I’d rather listen to a bar full of USC fans bitch about the BCS than pay attention to the window.

But even if Man City don’t spend like Brian Cashman after a coke binge, they can still pay like a champion. In case you’re wondering, Wayne Bridge is now the highest-paid left back in the world at £100,000 a week. Which is a problem considering that a week ago he wasn’t the best left back on his team. Just as a little thought exercise, spend the next 10 seconds thinking of left backs better than Wayne Bridge and see how many you can name.* Exactly…there are a bunch, and some of them aren’t all that good themselves. If Man City is willing to give that much money to a mediocre fullback (just about the least important position on the field), what on earth will they give to someone who can actually score goals? Assuming, that is, that they can throw enough money at a Villa-level player to come play for the shitty Manchester team. I’m guessing that he pulls down 200k plus Elano as a manservant. If one comes, that is.

Shame on you, Man City, for not holding up your end of the bargain. The only reason to have fantastically rich folks (as opposed to the merely rich) buy a soccer team is so that they can blow huge wads of money on aging/overrated/moody superstars and we can watch them implode. Man City has the implosion part down pat (Hello Nottingham Forest…haven’t seen you in a while!), but this is just the normal sort of implosion: a team “too good to go down” flirting with relegation. Damnit, that’s Tottenham’s job. No, we demand an epic implosion that makes the Dallas Cowboys look like amateurs. But, for an epic implosion, we need epic signings. Come on City, we know you can do it.

*Off the top of my head in 10-ish seconds: Ashley Cole, Chelsea (of course!); Gael Clichy, Arsenal; Eric Abidal, Barcelona; Joan Capdevila, Villarreal; Maxwell, Inter; Lahm, Bayern (can play either side); Christian Pander, Schalke (ditto), Kleber, Santos/Brazil; Marcelo, Real Madrid.

The January transfer window is almost upon us. All across Europe, journalists are sharpening their pens ready to report on the barest hint of rumor, common sense and fact-checking be damned. But what do the buying clubs really want? Below, in no particular order you’ll find a handy list of the real transfer targets for the clubs that promise to be active during the window.

Manchester City:

-Gianluigi Buffon

-Kaka

-Spain’s Euro 2008 squad

-A time machine

-Pele

-Eusebio

-Franz Beckenbauer

-Instant gratification

- A pretty, pretty pony

Real Madrid

-Any and all players under long-term contracts with other clubs.

-Sporting Director

A.C. Milan

-A midfielder under the age of 35

-an extra striker

-Fountain of Youth

Arsenal

-Lassana Diarra, Mathieu Flamini or Gilberto Silva.

-Winger

-Someone, anyone who can actually play center back.

-Francophone player under the age of 7.

-The Idiot’s Guide to Preventing Late Equalizers

-A hug for Eboue

Juventus

-A Referee

Tottenham

-Sold defender Flavor-of-the-month attacking player

-Half of Portsmouth’s starting 11

-Self Respect

- New excuse for failing to qualify for Champions League. Again.  (in a pinch, last year’s will do just fine)

Newcastle

-Swear jar for Joe Kinnear

West Brom

-Strikers

-Midfielders

-Defenders

-Hope

-Good deals on hotel rooms in Southampton, Ipswich, Watford, etc for the fall.

Ajax

-Talented 17 year-old who will inevitably move to Real or Barcelona by age 21.

Chelsea

-Another central midfielder, just for the hell of it.

Fulham

-An American, any American.

Bayern Munich

-A babysitter for Landycakes

Damn, damn, damn. Now it’s time to panic.

“If one is winning, we ought to help the other, and when they start winning, we ought to switch sides.”

That’s usually attributed to Harry Truman talking about the Soviet Union and Germany, but it could just as well sum up everyone’s feelings regarding the soccer catfight of the week: Alex Ferguson v. Real Madrid.

Apparently, a director of Real Madrid, did what Real Madrid directors do: stir up useless transfer controversy. He claimed that Real Madrid had signed a secret agreement with Manchester United to buy Cristiano Ronaldo at the end of the year, but that this deal was so secret that he wasn’t actually allowed to talk about it. It was also so secret that no one bothered to tell Alex Ferguson, which you’d think someone would, seeing as he’s the manager.

When informed of this alleged secret contract, Ferguson responded without losing his trademark measured, calm demeanor. Just kidding. He went through the roof: “You don’t think we’d get into a contract with that mob, do you? Jesus Christ. I wouldn’t sell them a virus. So that’s a no — there is no agreement between the clubs.” And that’s a good thing: with Real so far back in the league, no one, no one wants to know what Ramon Calderon would do with bio-weapons. He’s a desperate man (UPDATE: And now he’s got much more time on his hands). Just to be safe, don’t drink the water at Camp Nou. Of course, the Spanish press weighed in with their usual even-handedness

The problem with this is that both Real Madrid and Alex Ferguson are utterly despicable. Ferguson runs Manchester United, which is a terrible mark against his character. To top it off, he’s responsible for David Beckham, Wayne Rooney and Cristiano Ronaldo, which means that as far as all right-thinking soccer fans are concerned, death’s too good for him. Just think of a Manchester United fan you know…okay, now put down the knife…Fergie’s probably responsible for that guy becoming one of them.

Real Madrid. Where to start? They’re sort of like the Dallas Cowboys, but less fascist-y. I think we all know about Franco and all that, so I’ll just bring up their sordid history of transfers. You may have heard of Alfredo di Stefano, the greatest player in Real’s history.  He was supposed to sign for Barcelona, but he had to switch flights in Madrid, where he was, uh, “convinced” that he’d be much happier at Real. The whole thing makes Chelski’s signing of Ashley Cole look like a Dr. Seuss book. Later on, Real completely broke the transfer market (and gave hope to sketchy oligarchs and oil sheiks everywhere) for good with their “galaticos” project. Under Chairman Ramon Calderon, in recent years, they’ve done their damnedest to ensure that they’re publicly linked with every single player under the sun (including our Cesc Fabregas), because unsettling other teams’ players doesn’t count when you’re Los Merengues.

To make matters worse, they’re going to handbags over the most embarrassing excuse for a footballer Europe has to offer. Yes, he’s very good at stepovers, but we have to balance that against him being diver and an all-around cheat. Why couldn’t this be about a more worthwhile player, like Kasey Keller? In the end, I think we have to split the baby in half (Lord, find me a hacksaw large enough) Ronaldo needs to leave ManU, to someone other than Real Madrid. The thought of seeing either come out of this spat happy makes me feel queasy.

Here’s the Cesc Pistols!

After William Gallas spent his term as club captain steering Arsenal towards any and all icebergs in the way, Arsene Wenger made the right decision and stripped him of the captaincy. The result? A win at Stamford Bridge for the first time in years.

Chelski started off the scoring with an Arsenal own goal, and as recently as a month ago, that would’ve been game over, as Arsenal followed the captain’s lead and assumed the fetal position. Instead, Arsenal came out of the halftime break strong, and Robin van Persie scored two goals within three minutes of each other around 60 minutes to give them the win.

Despite all the good feeling emanating from the change in captains, this win solves absolutely nothing. For the past few years Arsenal has done very well against the other big clubs. The problems come when they go into cruise control against lesser sides. This year, the problem’s been even more acute, with losses to Hull Stoke and Fulham.  The only way to tell if this change has truly been sucessful comes in the next two weeks as Arsenal plays Wigan and Middlesbrough. Still, a win at Chelsea is a win at Chelsea.

If you see a Chelsea fan (and they’re very hard to spot after a loss), please be sure to mock them, and remind them that they’re a horrible person for supporting the most loathsome club north of Madrid.

If you’ve watched this year’s World Series, you’ve heard broadcasters wax eloquently on the reputation of Philadelphia fans as the toughest, nastiest fans in sports. You hear the same stories over and over again: Philly fans booed Snata Claus, they booed Michael Irvin when he injured his neck, they threw iceballs at referees, etc. Well, if Philadelphia has the most unpleasant fans in the world, what do we say about Glasgow?

Ah, Glasgow. The Old Firm. A city divided between Celtic and Rangers, Catholic and Protestant, Unionist and Republican, between generally unpleasant and out of their fucking minds. Yes, they’re singing exactly what you think they’re singing. It’s the new hit at Rangers matches: “The Famine Song.” But what you heard was just the chorus; this song has four verses of chocolatey sectarian goodness (If you have no idea what the hell I’m talking about, you might want to take a look here before you continue).

Let’s dive deeper into this song, FJM style:

First, here’s the link to the video. If you couldn’t tell form the last video this, uh, masterpiece is sung to the tune of “Sloop John B.” by the Beach Boys, which is a great choice for defaming Catholics and the Irish. I’d go for The Surfaris myself, but that’s neither here nor there.

The two guys in this particular video are quite a piece of work as well. I’m not up on my Unionist totems, but there’s a modified Ulster flag in the background, one of the guys uses a flute in the instrumental (apparently, it’s a big deal, just ask Paul Gascoigne). Oh, and Rangers scarves, because if you’re an anti-Irish, anti-Catholic bigot, Rangers is just the team for you.

At any rate, onto the song:

I often wonder where they would have been
If we hadn’t have taken them in
Fed them and washed them
Thousands in Glasgow alone
From Ireland they came
Brought us nothing but trouble and shame
Well the famine is over
Why don’t they go home?

You’ll notice something missing from the 1st verse: soccer. There’s no mention at all of anything concerning soccer, which you’d think would be at the forefront of a terrace song. No Rangers, no Celtic, no players, nothing. Just the Potato Famine. Which, when you think about it isn’t terribly witty, or funny…or appropriate. As for the “why don’t they go home,” well, the famine’s been over for a century and a half. Perhaps Glasgow is their home.

Here’s a thought experiment: replace “Glasgow” with New York and imagine someone singing this at a Notre Dame football game, or imagine someone singing “go back to Africa” at a NBA game, and then try imagining how amazingly quickly they’d be arrested or pummeled by the fans in their section. We have our problems in sports here in the U.S. Tolerating racist/sectarian bigots isn’t one of them.

Now Athenry Mike was a thief
And Large John he was fully briefed
And that wee traitor from Castlemilk
Turned his back on his own

Finally! Something about soccer. To the best of my knowledge, “Large John” is Jock Stein, the legendary Celtic and Scotland manager. “The wee traitor from Castlemilk” is probably Celtic winger Aiden McGeady, who chose to represent Ireland instead of Scotland in international play. Although, let’s be honest: calling someone a traitor for representing the country of a grandparent is a bit much, unless you’re talking about that traitor scum, Giuseppe Rossi (okay, okay, we shouldn’t demonize him either (yes we should!).

They’ve all their Papists in Rome
They have U2 and Bono
Well the famine is over
Why don’t they go home?

Why yes, Rome is full of “Papists.” Then again, the fact the Rome has Catholics hardly explains why Celtic fans should go back to Ireland. On the other hand, the second point is excellent. U2 does suck, and Bono is terribly annoying. I fully suppoer U2 going home and never being allowed out.

Now they raped and fondled their kids
That’s what those perverts from the darkside did
And they swept it under the carpet
and Large John he hid

No wonder Celtic’s been better than Rangers for the past few years; they’ve got Sith lords on the roster! You should see the spin Darth Maul can put on a free kick. Someone will also have to explain to me what exactly Jock Stein had to do with the current pedophile unpleasantness in the catholic church. He was protestant, and died in 1985.

Their evils seeds have been sown
Cause they’re not of our own
Well the famine is over
Why don’t you go home?

Okay…this part is just ugly. I suppose these guys are voting BNP in the next elections.

Now Timmy don’t take it from me
Cause if you know your history
You’ve persecuted thousands of people
In Ireland alone
You turned on the lights
Fuelled U boats by night
That’s how you repay us
It’s time to go home.

Well, the IRA are a nasty bunch, but the kettle called, and he’d like an apology. The U-boat thing is just strange. You see, it didn’t actually happen. In World War I, there were, you know, British soldiers in Ireland, and while U-boats did drop off spies and provocateurs it’s not like they were invited. In the Second, Ireland was neutral, not “refuel U-boats” neutral (*cough* Spain *cough*), actually neutral.

As you can imagine, this song has caused a great deal of controversy since ‘Gers fans rolled it out earlier this season. Celtic has, for some reason, called for sanctions against Rangers, the BBC and some newspapers have taken note. Surprisingly enough, Rangers fans have tried to defend the use of this song, which must be pretty difficult to pull off, although it’s quite funny when they try.