Those of you who read my last article will realise the relevance of the title. The hens do refer to the ‘holy trinity’ of the popular Christmas song, but are dedicated not to a dead princess or lizard ruler (Jane Badler, we salute you…) Rather, to a blonde singer from the town of four thousand holes who was voted off X Factor last weekend. 

Diana gets your vote over Eoghan (or doesnt as it turned out)

Diana is not the focus of this article, even though she ‘won’ the public vote for this article at least. I linked her to the French hens for her sultry alternativeness and subsequently to Andy van der Meyde, not quite because he is sultry or the footballer most likely to contract bird flu - but it’s close.

(please note that from now on Andy van der Meyde might be known as VDM)

I feel Diana was always on a loser after the laryngitis episode when she was ‘too ill’ to perform a Mariah Carey song and so seemingly got a week off. Similarly, VDM will probably never raise more than a collective laugh from the Gwladys Street when he emerges from the dugout, and bitter moans about his wages etc, because he has done very little in a Blue shirt, no goals, one assist from what I can remember, and one sending off (in a  derby no less).

But surely bad luck is simply at fault for these two artists’ failure?

It is a little ironic that Van Der Meyde made his first League appearance of the season little more than twenty four hours after Diana’s teary exit. Similarly, it can also not be a mere coincidence that he and I were born two days apart, are the same height, and play the same position.

I, like many others, am drawn to anti-heroes, those less popular underdogs who don’t quite fit the mould. There are many reasons for this, it is perhaps inherent in our culture, our upbringing, or at the very least inspired by reading about David and Goliath at Sunday School (just me then?). There is less support though, definitely amongst avid supporters, for that band of players described as ‘sicknotes’, ‘wasters’ or ‘leeches’. Men should be men, regardless of their health problems, and play through the pain, n’est-ce pas?

Three French Hens - All Everton want for xmas is one fit van der Meyde

But football, especially in the age of the Premiership and expensive wages, doesn’t seem to forgive those who are on the receiving end of visits from the bad luck bears. They are noticed, criticised then ridiculed, even though many are at least at the more skillful end of the imaginary ‘gifted footballers’ spectrum we have all argued about in the playground.

Diana is a very good singer. Anderton, Redknapp, Saha, Ferguson, Bridges, Dyer (Kieron, not Bruce) are (were) all very good players too, and van der Meyde is on this list too. I for one do not believe they pick and choose when they want to play - rather, for some reason, they do not have the fortune others are grateful to receive when cards are dealt regarding their legs or their personal life. To castigate someone for having the temerity to not feel able to perform to the best of their ability, then go into work on a Monday morning and happily fill in for colleagues on long term sick (or even worse - throw a ‘sickie’ - a word I first heard used in a conversation between Madge and Harold would you believe, fact fans)) smacks of hypocrisy in my innocent eyes.

Indeed, us Evertonians were denied the chance to see Danny Williamson play but a few fleeting moments for us, however I recall an outstanding goal he scored in the Cup I think that marked him out as a future star. How many other heroes missed their calling due to injuries and bad luck, I wonder? Maybe many football fans - we still kick every ball, nod every header, because most of us still believe that if it wasn’t for that drinking or lack of pace, of scout getting lost, it’d be us on that pitch…

I digress. Back to Andy van der Meyde: Just imagine

• 1. Johan Cruyff says you’re rubbish
• 2. You sign for Everton and only me turns up to greet you
• 3. Your dog and car get stolen

Johan Cruyff: Still very much an influencial figure in football

Ok so these headlines are less than half the story, and there is much more I could mischievously suggest when it comes to examples of his bad luck being self created, but if we stick to the facts, it is much fairer.

This much we know. Van der Meyde broke in to the Ajax first team after progressing through their excellent academy system (presumably a few years before myself and a drunken Uni mate walked into the same complex on a Students’ Union trip to Amsterdam, being greeted by Danny Blind and Shota Arvaladze) and he looked a real prospect.

Dutch caps (ahem) followed though the unfortunate event that sums up his international career did too. Johan Cruyff is a legend, and extremely influential in Holland (and seemingly Barca’s) hierarchy. Therefore, when he himself said on the eve of Euro 2004 that the Oranje‘had no chance of winning as long as he (VDM) was in the squad’, despite his involvement in their journey to the tournament’s semis, the writing seemed to be on the wall.

Cruyff & Van Bastan, not big on Van der Meyde, despite his respect for them

This was particularly unfortunate as VDM had just had a good first season at Inter, albeit injury shortened, scoring a memorable goal against Arsenal in the meantime. It is perhaps no surprise (given the respect he and many others show to Cruyff) that Marco van Basten, another legend an another of my favourite all time players, never considered VDM during his tenure as Dutch coach either.

But there are perhaps more valid reasons for this choice. Van der Meyde made the switch to Everton in Summer 2005. I was excited about this, I didn’t know much about him - even now I don’t, I’ll be honest a lot of this information was brought back into my brain with the help of a popular online encyclopedia. I think a lot of that is down to his lack of exposure, he is generally regarded as a forgotten man and the only time the Echo or footy magazines mention him is to announce another injury, another determined comeback or cruel, inappropriate skits (see the guardian football site’s unfunny gallery if you want.)

Anyway a couple of weeks after his signing, I excitedly rushed in to the city centre to attend a meet and greet session at the mega store with him and another recent purchase, Per Kroldrup.  I was a little late to arrive, still, was surprised to find I WAS THE ONLY FAN IN THE SHOP and therefore both players forced smiles whilst signing photographs for a teacher that was older than them both! To be honest, Kroldrup was pleasant enough but VDM clearly didn’t want to be there and seemed actually appalled at having to use a biro to scrawl over his face.

I stuck by him though, even whilst Kroldrup disappeared into ignominy (random description of the defender ‘head like a 50p piece’), VDM enjoyed some success in the first team before niggling injuries took over. Getting stupidly sent off in his first derby didn’t help, or did more serious injuries. Quickly, rumours abounded that he was enjoying the social side of the city a little too much, to dangerous effects.

VDM reasonably asks for a stables for his wife who presumably has a love for horses

Rumours and football are a volatile mix, but fans were disgruntled at the suggestion he’d only signed for us following the promise of a stables for his partner. Things got even more ludicrous when he became yet another victim of the footballer gets burgled phenomenon that has engulfed this city for the last couple of years. Not only did he apparently lose eight (?) Rolexes in the ambush, and an expensive new puppy (a heartfelt appeal for which led to its return) but he also suffered the embarrassment of thousands of school kids across the city gleefully bluetoothing videos of his stolen car being raced across a car park before being found wrecked in front of a cinema.

Things seemed to spiral out of control from here on in. Reports of unhappiness, denials thereof, fines, suspensions, drinks spiking claims, more injuries, rumours of sales abroad, wanting to stay, exciting pre-season displays, disappointments, no appearance for over a year… and bizarrely, regularly sightings of the great man shopping on his own in town, occasionally accompanied by his wife or on one occasion recently a red-haired teenage boy.

Diana will no doubt be given a record contract and be relatively successful - more importantly, encouraging teenage girls across the country. She (or the show’s producers) may have been at fault at times, but we don’t begrudge her that. Similarly, whether or not VDM brought his bad luck on himself, or questioning if he deserves any more chances, should not be on our agendas at the minute. I for one will forgive and forget - we all make mistakes, he has brought pleasure to millions and should be encouraged on this latest comeback trail.

Two years ago, when Sylvester Stallone came to Goodison, I stood proudly holding a ‘ROCKY VAN DER MEYDE’ poster, featuring Mr Balboa with a number 7 on his back. Maybe, just maybe it could be another fairytale ending to this story.

A few months ago I wrote an article (croatia article) expressing my concerns about the direction of English International football & fears I had going into that game against Croatia. I also mentioned that prior to the defeat by Bilic’s chequered men, I was met by gut-wrenching reservations similar to ones I had experienced in 1994, when England failed to reach USA 94 under Graham Taylor.

I’m a little too young to remember when England last failed to reach the Euro championships (1984 was the last time; degradation a certain Norwegein commentator’s now legendary “Maggie Thatcher..” - seen above - rant won’t let us forget in a hurry!), meaning ‘USA 94′ was the only other time I’ve experienced something similar (me being a patron of such a colossus in the football world!). And what does USA 94 & Euro 2008 have in common? Well for me, they have both proved to be more gratifying tournaments in Ingerland’s absence. And just before nationalists, meatheads & the like, get their St George’s Y-fronts in a twist & disembowel me metaphorically, hear me out:

- I have been able to relax & enjoy football purely for the entertainment value. No emotional attachment, no lofty unrealistic hopes, no sleepless nights, & no agonising defeats at the hands of the Germans via a crushing penalty shoot-out!

- Like USA 94 (though I was 13 back then), I have been able to concentrate on scouting for players in my imaginary world where I’m the manager of the team I support & buy in players to fit the system I have created, annoying the missus by scribbling this team on the back of any scrap of paper I can find around the flat; thus confirming how incredibly childish & idyllic my thoughts still remain after all these years!

- I’ve seen no scenes of English yobs scrapping/rioting either abroad or in our local pubs, therefore saving us all from the shameful, self-defeating violence & yobs tarnishing the flag for the umpteenth time; for a few more years at least.

- And lastly, we can take a long hard look at the direction we are going in & take notes/lessons from the free-flowing, high tempo football we’ve witnessed at this tournament & move with the times. With failure comes lessons that we have to learn, with failure has to come a chemical reaction to improve & make sure we don’t make the same mistakes again. As so often is the case, this can often be the catalyst for success. Capiche? (Oh & PL clubs can buy up all the best players of the tournament which helps!)
 
After USA 94 & in the post-Turnip era, England reacted by importing shed loads of classy foreigners into our domestic league, which strangely corresponded with the birth of the Premiership, which in retrospect rejuvenated English football at that time. We learnt so much from players such as Klinsman, Ravenelli, Gicá Popescu, Di Matteo, Dan Petrescu, Ziege & Branco(Brazilian with thunderbolt left peg who spent a season with Boro- or rather 9 games to be more precise). We then went on to go within a whisker of battering everyone at Euro 96 (who will ever forget that 4-1 victory against the Dutch? Watch below for those who drank too much!) & responsible for reinvigorating a nation seemingly on brink of losing its affection for the game she invented.

All this poppycock about foreigners ruining the English game is a load of pish. Ask McManaman,  ‘Shaggy‘ Anderton & Sheringham if foreign imports harmed their developement. We just use this as an excuse for our failings. Get Silva, Villa, Arshavin, Modric et al into the Premier League & it will invariably improve our countries chances of qualification & ultimately being victorious at World Cup 2010; end of. And the man with the umbrella has to be aiming for this. As my good friend Eric has already brought to the table, we have to emulate the football Hiddink& Holland are producing, move swiftly & adapt. But for now, he’s something to cheer all England fans up (who’s the skinny bloke in the suit with the dodgy tash?):

Life is all about reacting to scenarios & failings. Life is about accommodating a new set of circumstances; adapting once things don’t go as we might’ve planned. And life is about chemistry & reactions.

Allow me to elaborate further…

An old article that my friend Eric Utheim penned earlier this year (Same winner) suggested that winning the Champion’s League has become predictable, & the days of Ajax, Red Star Belgrade, Steaua Bucharest & Nottingham Forest winning Europe’s most prestigious trophy is a thing of the past. I beg to differ.

If all the components/elements are in place & players/managers react in the correct manner, anything is possible. Look at Greece last time around, Turkey’s achievements this time, but more aptly look at Hiddink’s Ruskies. Only one player in Russia’s squad plays outside Russia & despite Zenit St. Petersburg hinting massively at Russia’s potential in last season’s Uefa Cup, no one in the so-called savvy British media identified them as dark horses even, never mind contenders. I know Dunphy, Brady & Giles (RtéTwo) can be v.annoying at times, but even their contentious, never-in-the-wrong drivel is better entertainment than the smug, sit-on-the-fence, dial-a-cliché bores that line-up on the English gravy train! It just goes to show, regardless of the money & popular opinion, that if all the elements are in place; such as the right manager is appointed, who in-turn installs the correct tactics, & with all his players on top of their games & gelling together; then magic can happen.

Hiddink’s success will not only have England selectors kicking themselves, but Chelsea hierarchy also. Honestly, has Big Phil Scolari really done enough to warrant the praise he’s received from the world’s press? I mean, he’s never even managed a European club team & only has club experience in Brazil! His nearly man CV hardly has other PL clubs green with envy. In this environment, he is nothing short of an unknown quantity. He’s not a leader of men. He’s not a revolutionary. He’s not Gus Hiddink.

A few months back, I was over in Liverpool meeting up with friends. As we gathered for afternoon pints in the charming ‘Ye Cracke’ pub off Hope St. something profound dawned on me. The Guinness was flowing & the craic was indeed mighty. And I was surrounded by all of the friends I love, fellas I’d met at different periods of my life, all unique & all equally fantastic in their own delightful way. Each friend’s idiosyncrasies were obvious. Our differences were there for all to see & the group dynamics were as diverse as they could’ve been; yet everyone gelled perfectly, sparks flew & we all got on famously. That stolen afternoon in Liverpool – you know the one lads – for me was what life is all about & why it is such a wonderful gift. And it’s all about the chemistry.

Normally, merely mentioning the word ’science’ has me heading for the nearest exit, yet recently, I’m starting to think that life is made up of little else. Good things usually occur from shit situations. Look at USA in ‘94’, when Leonardo (whom along with Romario, was Brazil’s player of the tournament) was suspended for his infamous elbow on Tab Ramos of the USA (seen above). His replacement; Branco, came in & scored the winner in their ¼ final against a Bergkamp-inspired Holland, winning 3-2. Branco would later go onto score a crucial penalty in the WC Final’s shootout against Italy as Brazil lifted the World trophy for the 1st time in 24 years. Life is made up of decisive decisions at crucial moments & these shape our future. Football is no different. What if Chelsea hadn’t signed ‘la Sulk’ (Anelka)? What if Steven Taylor hadn’t committed that horrendous tackle on Eduardo? Drogba wasn’t sent-off against United? And what if United hadn’t defeated Chelsea in the CL final? (I’m certain Ronaldo would’ve stayed, but now he’s won literally everything there is to win, then I’m now certain he’ll leave – at some point.)

Things could've been different for Arsenal but for Eduardo's leg break

And what if Russia hadn’t lost 4-1 against Spain? Would they be in the semis?

Despite originally rooting for the perennial underachievers - them being the Spanish - to win the Euros, & how I never fail to be impressed by the sheer efficiency of the Germans; I think Russia deserve to win it now, so that we all learn a very valuable lesson. Football is changing & Gus is reminding us all (As Eric so eloquently said so in the previous post!), that anything is possible with skillful, fast & energetic players. And Spain has to be very wary of the wounded tiger or Ruskie as it is in this case.

I’ve just returned from a very enjoyable stay in the metropolis that is London (I’m saving that story for my next post by the way!) & I am starting to realise an important lesson about geting things wrong myself. Things may not always be as they once seemed & hopefully the English coaches involved in the future of our game see things in a similar light. In summery, in England’s absence - like in ‘USA 94 ’ - free from ulterior motives, emotional constraints, vested interests & sure bets (though I did attempt to enter The Metro’s fantasy league that unceremoniously collapsed after game 3!), I have had the opportunity to take an objective look at the great game & International football on the whole. And as an Englishman this is extremely necessary, especially in light of England’s latest failings.

What I’ve been trying to get at is that football, like life, is unpredictable. A series of random events with reactions, which if you get right brings about success. Moreover, great things can be created from adversity, success stories out of general shitness. Take the Irish Literary movement of the early-mid 20th century, the Manchester music phenomenon of the late 80’s & early 90’s, Wayne Rooney, & quite possibly Hiddink’s Russia in 2008.

From where I am standing, there is only one thing worse than mindless football violence & that is complacency. England are not in a position to become complacent, so therefore have the perfect opportunity to learn a valuable lesson from their omission from Euro 2008. As they did in the aftermath of USA 94, like then, England now have an opportunity to react accordingly. Also, like Sheringham, Shearer & Anderton before them, English players can learn a lot from the foreign imports that will inevitably follow these Championships. And this tournament akin to USA 94 can only have a positive effect/reaction on English football.

Untill next time…

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Tomorrow the semis of the best international tournament since Mexico 1986 starts.

EURO2008 has been a tremendous success. The entertainment has been excellent. Brilliant goals, new stars has appeared, and late, late drama. The Euros has had it all.

But first and foremost EURO2008 has shown the way forward for football. It has shown what the future will bring.

It is quite simply the start of a new era.

Mobility, speed and stamina.

Those are the key words. Those are the main components that herald the future of the beautiful game.

And no one is a better example of this, and few teams are more beautiful, than Guus Hiddink’s Russia.(pictured above)

Brian Barwick must be kicking himself. What if England had appointed the Dutchman after Sven Göran Eriksson left in 2006, instead of plumping for that man with the umbrella?

Hiddink’s philosophy is the way forward for modern football. It is a way that doesn’t consist of rigid formations and set patterns. It is a philosophy that is based on quick players, all capable of beating opponents. It is based on mobility, where players change positions all the time. It is also based on stamina. The workaholic Russian midfielders and full backs quite simply run their opponents into the ground.

It is total football reinvented.

And indeed, Hiddink’s home nation, the inventors of total football, are another example of the new virtues that will dominate modern football.

Holland were breathtaking in the group stages. Van der Vaart, Sneijder, Van Nistelrooy, Van Persie and Robben’s technique, pace and slick passing tore the last World Cup’s finalists apart. And Engelaar, De Jong and Kuyt’s hard work enabled them to do so. It was fantastic football, performed by athletes that combined those three main assets that will be at the core of football in the future: Mobility, speed and stamina.

Jaime Carragher teased his Spanish Liverpool team mates ahead of the Euros, saying that they lacked the physique and pace of the French.

Carragher was right in pointing to how important physique and pace are in modern football. But he forgot that speed is not only about how quick a player runs, it is also about how quick the ball moves.

And the Spanish have excelled in this compartment. Yes, with exception of Torres, defensive midfielder Senna and the defenders, Spain lacks height and strength. But the slight frames of Silva, Villa, Iniesta, Xavi and Fabregas have the ability to move the ball around with such crisp precision and quickness, that opponents are torn apart. This is where Portugal failed against the Germans. Despite possessing world class ball players, they dwelled to long, taking too many touches, and becoming too static. 

Manchester United showed a lot of the same as the Russians, the Dutch and the Spanish have done in the Euros, in their title winning campaign last season. The way Rooney, Ronaldo, Tevez and Park changed positions, the way all their front players are capable of beating opponents, the way all their players have quick feet capable of finding team mates with passes from the most tight angles and positions, the way full back Patrice Evra covers every blade of grass on his side.

That workaholic approach is the key to the free flowing, free moving modern football. In a world without rigid formations and structures, balancing deep midfielders (Senna, Engelaar, Zyryanov), and the work ethic of the team are crucial. The Russians have proved this. When the Dutch where running on empty in the quarter final – despite resting their entire starting eleven in the last group game – Arshavin, Zhirkov, Torbinsky and the other Russians were still running around as if the game had just started. It has been the same with Hiddink’s previous teams. Remember how hard the Koreans worked at the World Cup in 2002? Up and down, up and down, all the time.

That enthusiasm and movement is crucial. That was lacking for England at the last World Cup. The English players were moving around at pedestrian pace. The Germans, despite having a worse team player for player, showed how it should be done. Klinsmann’s Germany of 2006 reached the semi finals with their enthusiastic, eager and run-until-you-drop style. Now Joachim Low’s 2008 outfit has done the same.

Movement, how fast the ball travels and how disciplined and hard working the players are, those are the main components of modern football.

Hiddink has understood this. And he is the real star of EURO 2008. In a time where we have plenty of spectacular and entreating players, but no one that rises above the rest and clearly are the best player in the world (like Platini, Maradona and Zidane were), we can at least say who is the best national team coach in the world.

He is Guus Hiddink, the man England missed out on.

I’ll round of by selecting my all star XI of Euro 2008 so far. Do you agree?

Top of the Tops:

Goalkeeper: Artur Boruc (Poland)

The Celtic goalie was immense in the group stages. Poland would have been embarrassed without him.

Right back: Sergio Ramos (Spain)

Has often been criticised for neglecting his defensive duties, but so far the Real Madrid heart throb has excelled both defensively and when he has joined the attack.

Left back: Yuri Zhirkov (Russia)

The revelation of the tournament, alongside his team-mate Arshavin. Why is this fella at CSKA Moscow, and not playing for one of the big guns in Western Europe? Fantastic physique and stamina and a deadly left foot. The Russian Roberto Carlos. Bombs up and down the left flank. 

Centre half: Per Mertesacker (Germany)

Good in the air. Lacks pace, but has yet to be caught out. Has hardly put a foot wrong.

Centre half: Pepe (Portugal)

The Real Madrid man was excellent in the group stages.

Midfield: Konstantin Zyryanov (Russia)

Fantastic against the Swedes, not so dominant against Holland. But his calming presence, and his combination of grit and guile makes him crucial for Guus Hiddink’s team.

Midfield: Wesley Sneijder (Holland)

The best player of the tournament in the group stages. Fantastic movement, brilliant ball control and shoots equally well with both feet.

Midfield: Michael Ballack (Germany)

Was Chelsea’s best player in the league run in, and has continued his good form in the Euros. Has the ability to rise to the occasion.

Attacker: Andrei Arshavin (Russia)

The star of the tournament. Quick feet, a nose for goal and pace to burn. Will surely join one of Europe’s elite clubs after the summer.

Attacker: David Villa (Spain)

The tournament’s top scorer so far. He will probably be so after the final as well. Good movement, a stinging shot and the ability to be on the right place at the right time.

Attacker: Luka Modric (Croatia)

Nicknamed “Little Cruyff”. He wears Cruyff’s old shirt number (14), and even looks like the old Dutch maestro. He plays like him too. Tottenham fans must be rubbing their hands with glee at the thought of watching this brilliant little footballer at the Lane next season.

My Team of Euro 2008 

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Spaniels possess a great share of intelligence, affection, and obedience, which qualities, combined with much beauty, make them highly prized as companions. The name comes from the word for Spanish (Español).

When I was three or four, I got knocked into a lake by a Spaniel. I have a tendency to over dramatise this event, but its effect on me was huge. I can recall seeing the brown and white thing running towards me, and the impact of the cold water as I fell in. And before my dad pulled me out (thanks dad if you’re reading) I will always remember an England’s Glory matchbox amidst the stones on the bottom. Anyway, I was always dubious of Spanish things after that. I despised the people, for no real reason. Chose to do Latin instead of Spanish at school. I also hated Spain during Championships, luckily they weren’t a great side in that period, though I did have soft spots for Miguel and Emilio ‘The Vulture’ Butragueno (pictured below) until I found out their nationalities. My opinion of the country changed somewhat after a first visit to Salou/Barcelona, so much so that I returned for a longer stay a couple of years later. I have embraced Spanish cooking and wine, and celebrated their art history and films (Open Your Eyes is much better than Vanilla Sky). Then they came to Merseyside.

Let’s go back a bit though. I have read and heard much about the Real Madrid teams of the Fifties and Sixties, and am currently enjoying Barca: A People’s Passion by Jimmy Burns which goes into great detail about the real people’s club. I just never ‘got’ the essence of Spanish futbol.

I suppose, when we were growing up, Barcelona were of course a great team, with Maradona, Schuster, then later Romario, Stoichkov et al (do go on You Tube and search for ‘Barca top ten goals’, in the words of another European great Herr Lipp, it’s a real good treat) but Italian football was where it was at. Italia 90 was enough, but on top you had the real stars in Serie A, and the excitement of James Richardson on a Sunday afternoon treating us to Sampdoria Parma and Guiseppe Giannini etc.

Nowadays, although Channel 5 is doing its bit for calcio, Spain’s La Liga is seen as the other best league in the world, and some of the dirge the Premiership offers, suggests it can claim bragging rights.

Recent years have seen Spanish footballers and coaches influence heavily what we see and do. In European competition, Valencia, Villareal and Sevilla have impressed, Real’s Galacticos are gone and even though Barcelona are currently in a dip of form (Guillame Balague says it’s a crisis) still have tons of world class talent. Whenever I’m at my girlfriend’s on a Sunday night, I try to catch some of whatever game is on, and I’m normally impressed. Not that that’s the only reason I go, of course.

But there is something special about the goals, the strips, the fans, Gerry Armstrong or Roberto Martinez in the studio…

I was lucky enough to go to a Barcelona match a couple of years ago. It was a pre-season friendly against Bayern Munich. The atmosphere and build-up was incredible, and Carles Puyol blessed the club in Catalan before kick-off. Ronaldinho, Eto’o (2) and Saviola scored and some of the play was breathtaking. Lionel Messi was the real draw though, and probably the best nicknamed footballer in the world played some of the best football I’ve ever seen. I’d recommend anyone on holiday in Spain to try to get to a game and compare the differences.

But this article isn’t just a discussion of Spanish football, or dogs with fleas attacking small children. There is a link between the two…

Fernando Torres is amazing. There, I’ve said it.

Mikel Arteta is still the best little Spaniard we know, but even despite his outstanding goal in the Fiorentina match, only Torres can lay claim to being the best Spaniard, perhaps player, around right now. Many scoffed at his price tag but his current run is so impressive that you can see him overtaking Ronaldo in the scoring charts and being the new Rush in the eyes of ‘the Kop’ (out of interest, how could Gillette or Hicks, could be either I can’t tell the ‘Muppet yanks’ (my friend’s words when interviewed on ITV, not mine) apart, describe a stand as a person who has opinions? I digress) which in his first season would be an awesome achievement.

His recent goal against Newcastle when he dummied the keeper and slotted calmly was pure class, and I’m sure there have been many others, I normally cover my eyes. He’s also good looking and seems quite genuine, if it wasn’t for his meff hairdo he’d be a frontrunner for most stylish footballer too.

The whole point of this is that it’ll be because of him, not Gerrard or Benitez or Alonso (sample quote when I met him earlier in the season - “I f**king hate you, but you’re brilliant” tho now I like him as his decision to stand by his pregnant girl was admirable) that Liverpool win fourth spot this season, and maybe even the Champions League once more. If only we can find a way to stop him in the derby, or it might be Everton that sink after meeting a Spaniel, twenty four years on from my unfortunate happening. 

Spaniels possess a great share of intelligence, affection, and obedience, which qualities, combined with much beauty, make them highly prized as companions. It’s clear that Torres, and to a lesser extent Arteta, are highly prized companions, I hope we can both keep them if the season proves to be a failure. My legendary girlfriend has just come in and told me she’s always wanted a Spaniel. I’ll get a towel.

In May, the most prestigious European Cup will get an English winner. For the 11th time. You mark my words…

Has English club football ever been better? Perhaps in the late seventies and early eighties, but probably not. Four English teams out of the eight quarter finalists, and unless Fenerbache can pull off TWO major shocks, we are more or less guaranteed at least one English team in the Champion’s league final. No country has ever had four representatives in the quarter-finals of Europe’s top club competition before. England (2000/01 and 2006/07), Germany (1997/98), Italy (2004/05 and 2005/06) and Spain (1999/2000, 2000/01, 20001/02 and 2002/03) have all had three in the past.
 

In the nineties Serie A dominated the European cups, so far this millennium the Spanish league has done the same. But there seems to be a shift in power now. It probably has happened already, with the Premiership having taken over the mantle. Last season England had three teams in the semis. That could very well happen this season as well.
Some have argued that the Spanish league still holds the lead. That the Premiership is all about the might and financial muscle of the so called big four. Or is it just that the money in football now means that in all the big leagues the top clubs are just in a different league compared to the lesser lights? After all, for Bolton and Wigan in England, read Murcia and Levante in Spain, or Catania and Siena in Italy.

I think it all boils down to this…

The top dogs in the three biggest leagues, England, Spain and Italy, are so powerful that they basically can buy whoever they want, that they can offer their players salaries that others only can dream of, and off course as they are so regular Champion’s League contenders, they have a pulling power that other clubs cannot compete with.
Manchester City and Aston Villa for instance, have enough Thai bath and American dollars, to buy and pay top players, but will they win a tug of war over a player if the competition is called Manchester United, Real Madrid or Inter? Probably not.
 

A chasm has opened up in the top leagues. Basically you have three divisions within the Premiership, Serie A and La Liga. The Champion’s League regulars at the top, the UEFA Cup hunters behind them, and the relegation candidates at the bottom. And it is difficult to see teams breaking out of these groups in the long run.
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