Part of the reason for the ugliness of adults, in a child’s eyes, is that the child is usually looking upwards, and few faces are at their best when seen from below.

- George Orwell, ‘Such, Such were the joys’

On a wet and windy evening, two old adversaries went at each other, tooth and nail, in the romantic backdrop of Cagliari. Packie Bonner (whom I met recently) punts the ball down field with familiar gusto, his arms flailing involuntarily as he goes to ground; a ritual resembling something half-way between a swallow dive and a convulsion. A slightly perturbed Bobby Robson looks on disdainfully from his dugout, rooted to his seat. Big Jack looms increasingly obstreperous on the touchline, sensing a comeback. The ball; aimed towards the human tower that is Tony Cascarino, not for the first time, is met by Butcher, but it drops to Sheedy, who never really gets hold of it and it runs on to 2^ndhalf substitute McMahon. Macca CAN’T control as Sheedy seizes on his hesitance and fires an unstoppable trademark left foot shot past an aging Shilton. Jack’s intuition was right, Bobby’s hunch fully warranted. The Irish were back in it, and everyone, including my father, went wild.

Packie Bonner; big hands, big kicks, big saves for Ireland.

Look at the Irish. They sing and none of them know the words. Jack sings, and all he knows is ‘Blaydon Races’ and ‘Cushy Butterfield’. But look at the pride they have in those green shirts

-Lawrie McMenemy

It was blatantly obvious how much it meant to everyone connected with the Irish national team, and against England it showed. Both England and Ireland would go on to taste unprecedented success during ‘Italia 90′; the Irish reaching the quarters (their best ever performance in a World Cup), England coming within a whisker of the final. It was deemed the most negative, cynical tournaments of them all (due to its lowest ever goal tally & most games decided on the unjustly penalty shoot-out), yet, both nations captured the hearts and imaginations of millions across the globe. The joy and happiness which transpired from their performances and merits is immeasurable, the exploits of both teams in Italy, who at the time were highly criticized in the press, will never be forgotten.

In light of recent events at Stoke City, and antipathy they’ve been faced with, I took a retrospective glance at football, to gain some much needed perspective on the whole ‘winning ugly’ versus ‘attractive football’ debate. 

In so many ways, Stoke remind me of Big Jack’s Republic of Ireland during ‘Italia 90′; whose much scrutinized long ball tactics, brought them unfathomable successes, exulting Jack Charlton to national treasure status here in Ireland. If stories are to be believed, his popularity is such, he has the freedom of this beauteous country; fishing, golfing, and drinking for nowt, in some of the finest spots it has to offer (What was Paul Jewell thinking?).

Big Jack was a born winner, with England and with Ireland

Allegedly, since taking the Irish job, the canny Northumberlander has yet to meet the price of a pint, as publicans nationwide wouldn’t hear of charging the great man. The endless yarns, of how Jack endeared himself to the Irish, you never tire of hearing, the stories, have now become stuff of legend. It is widely perceived, at the height of his fame, Jackie would offer to buy the whole pub a round of drinks, insisting he paid by cheque, knowing full well it would never be cashed, and that it would be framed and hung on the wall; where it still hangs till this day.  

There is no doubt Charlton was and is a man of extraordinary character, and his idiosyncrasies sat well with the Irish public. But what Jack Charlton did for Irish football, in terms of achievement, cannot be underestimated, as he took football from the dark depths and relative obscurity of the back pages, and shoved it firmly into the forefront of the nation’s psyche.

Pulis and Stoke City (better known for their participation in petty lower league football violence in recent years) are going about achieving something similar. And I have to say, despite my grievances in the past, as long as we are competitive in the top division, I couldn’t give a monkey’s whether we play pretty football or not. Even if it means no chances in an away trip to Wigan, and subsequently, we get shown last each week on Match of the Day 2; a result, as Steve McLaren pointed out recently, is certainly a result.

In the current financial climate, needs must, and what is best for this club and its people indubitably takes precedence over anything else. Yes, Stoke City are bringing out the utilitarian in me, just as Big Jack did in so many of us, all those years ago. If Delap’s throw is to be judged by the happiness generated by its outcome, then there is no question of its value to the modern world of football.

Ricardo Fuller has become Stoke's main attacking outlet

As a writer from the Daily Express expertly put it, he did not enjoy seeing the kind of football Stoke are producing, nevertheless, he wishes they stay in this division for years to come, and be able to buy the kind of players capable of producing some quality and innovative attacking football. I think his sentiments are echoed by most of us. But we can only play with what is in our armoury; and a decent goalkeeper, 4 dogged centre-halves (camped on the edge of our own penalty box), 4 strong defensive and combative central midfielders (sitting just in front of our defenders), a big strong defensive-minded attacker (playing anywhere other than attack), and Ricardo Fuller, is, unfortunately, what we’ve got. Throw Delap into the mix, and so far, this impenetrable approach, seems to be working.

It is well documented that Big Jack’s Ireland relied heavily on their physical weaponry, yet - Dunphy aside - they received nothing but praise and admiration. They put the balls into the channels, passes were never made in field (in case of interception & vulnerability to the counter-attack), and he infamously favoured great lumps of men both in defence and in attack.  Fancy football mattered little to Jackie, and to say he liked his players getting stuck in is litotes at its finest (listening to Aldridge describe how he went all out to cripple Romanian genius Hagi for ‘the lads’, knowing an injury had cut short his own involvement, is shamelessly hilarious). If fouling was for the good of the team, then Jack saw nothing wrong with it.

Not only was Jack Charlton a man of immense personality, but he was also a born winner, both as a player and as a manager. But as a manager, like Pulis, he was a pragmatist and his teams rarely gave away soft goals. In fact, he claims, when his first choice centre-back pairing of Mick McCarthy and Kevin Moran played together, his side never conceded from a set-piece or header.

Big Jack's Ireland conceded little whilst McCarthy & Moran were on the field

Ireland only scored one more goal from open play after that thunderbolt from Sheedy, and Quinny’s goal (Watch This) versus the Dutch couldn’t possibly have been more route-one. Yet, their run in the tournament did more for the popularity of soccer in Ireland than anything before or since, and elevated Charlton and his players to iconic status in football. Pulis and his troops should be vaunted likewise.

My point is, if you are successful, nobody cares how you go about it. Furthermore, nobody remembers teams who play great football and win nothing. Crewe have always played good football, so does every team in Holland (apart from FC Twente, despite McLaren’s best efforts to acclimatize - Watch This) and of course there’s Wenger’s latest crop at Arsenal, whom in spite of playing some sumptuous football at times, will be regular nobodies if they don’t win something.

The great Argentine footballer and philosopher, Jorge Valdano, suggests football is a metaphor for the time and place you are playing in. He who does not agree with the evolution of football does not believe in the evolution of the world. Many see the way Stoke play as counter-productive and stagnant, but for me, they reflect an increasingly cautious society now in consolidation. We are not all as fortunate as the Arsenals of this world and we have to play with the tools we’ve been given. In the words of Aristotle; the best choice, for each individual is the highest it is possible for him to achieve. Stoke are doing just that, and in the process, they are restoring pride and harmony to the much-suffered place they call the Potteries.

The happiness ‘Italia 90′ aroused in me cannot be articulated. The effervescent memories it evokes are incomparable. If Stoke come within an iota of stirring up such intangible emotion, bringing happiness into the lives of thousands, even if they do play route-one football, then who is to be begrudging of that?

Jackie likes Ireland, likes its people, likes Guinness, likes fishing.

If Pulis needs ridding of his compunction, seeks assurances that his tactics are justified, then, he needn’t look further than ‘Big Jack’ and his Republic. And when he locates him, in the serenity of his Irish retreat; eating freshly caught trout on the banks of a scenic lough, supping on a creamy, ultimately free, pint of Guinness, then I think he will have found his answer.

If like me, you suffer from a paranoid disposition, think the majority of newspapers have it in for Liverpool (emanating from growing up in a time when the Reds dominated), or echo thoughts of conspiracy theorists and wonder whether that whole missing piece of the jigsaw thing wasn’t just another contrived ideology by the media to keep Liverpool’s hands off what was once ‘their’ trophy, then you’ll most probably agree that our most recent tag as ‘bona fide title contenders’ is just the latest ploy to derail an unusually auspicious start to our season.

I know we are not meant to say these things as they do usually come back to haunt us, but when I examine the attributes of this current Liverpool team, I am sure that come the end of the season, if we don’t win it, we will be closer than we’ve been since that killer ‘Fever Pitch’ Michael Thomas moment, and the opposition will have to be nearly faultless to stop us fulfilling our destiny. I just hope I haven’t jinxed us.

Michael Thomas scores 'THAT' goal for Arsenal against Liverpool 1989

You see, Benitez seems to have solved the riddle which has been niggling everyone for almost twenty years, and in the process, he is liberating Liverpool FC from the shackles of such self-defeating pursuits as searching for missing links. Think how predestination kept servile Catholics in their places for hundreds of years and you’re close to discovering the crux of what has been stunting this football club since they last won the title in 1990.

What seems astonishing to me, yet so utterly ingenious at the same time, is how Benitez has allowed such contrived notions to pervade during his tenure, as though to create a smokescreen, allowing him to sedulously chip away at his master-plan. Like say, how a master conjurer uses subterfuge in his act, allowing the person who is supposed to be chopped in-two, to slip away unnoticed.

Now, it is no great secret that it takes two major things to be successful in the Premier League, however, whereas a great wad of cash is painfully obvious, the other is less so, and it’s the amalgamation of both the money and the right contingency which is a modern day requirement for all the serious challengers. Having worked all this out in his heady days at Valencia, where local heroes Canizaires, Albelda, Vicente and Mista were pivotal to his success, it is a formula Benitez is only too familiar with, and there’s evidence to suggest he’s been working towards achieving this synthesis since his arrival on Merseyside. Now the Rafalution looks to be in its final stages.

Albelda - Homegrown talent, one of two reasons for Benitez's success at Valencia

Often accused of relying too heavily on ‘Roy of the Rovers’ Gerrard, Liverpool now look like a team filled with match-winners who are adequately supported by the doggedness of Mascherano, Carragher and the steal of Skertel (prior to his injury). I just hope the latter’s injury does not prove decisive and he’s back on his feet for the business end of the season, as he has become indispensable to this new blend of worthy title contenders.

It’s funny, watching Guy Ritchie’s ‘Rocknrolla’ the other evening, bizarrely offered me an unexpected ray of optimism, when in its best moments, for which there weren’t too many (though I’d give it an entertaining ***’s), this Russian ex-military bloke who bore an uncanny resemblance to our Slovak (same difference) warhorse Skertel, wouldn’t stay down no matter what they threw at him, unremittingly chasing the cockney protagonist. I’m not sure Ritchie intended to insinuate that Eastern Europeans are like machines, or it was playing on my own scandalous prejudices (for which I sincerely apologise), but it evoked such assumptions in me and left me hopeful of Skertel’s speedy recovery.

Skertel - The Indestructible Russian (sorry, I mean Slovak)

Then there’s been the reinvigorating resurgence of the bellicose Kuyt; the growing understanding between the irrepressible Torres and the now monkeyless Robbie Keane (who has the credentials to become yet another Kop icon); and let’s not forget Steven Gerrard, the heartbeat of Rafa’s title hopefuls.

On route to approaching this threshold of building a squad that is there or thereabouts, there have arguably been three key moments for Benitez which have laid the foundations for what seems like imminent success. And I don’t mean his gargantuan achievements in Europe. His biggest achievements to date were: 

• 1) Persuading Steven Gerrard to stay at Liverpool, where he would become the lynchpin and captain of a side, which Rafa would build around him, that would be challenging for the coveted title (Thankfully Gerrard saw this his destiny and displayed venerable ambition in his decision)
• 2) Converting Jamie Carragher to centre back, where he has become one of the most revered defenders in Europe and central to this side’s cause.
• 3) And finally his unanimous public backing during the exasperating Yankee feud which must’ve give Rafa the assurances he was looking for, or he could’ve left us in limbo.

These will prove the most significant and preparatory events in Liverpool’s most serious assault on the title for decades. These three events also confirmed for Benitez, if for no one else, that everything is in place for his master plan to finally come into fruition.

His plan hasn’t been solely to emulate other successful teams in England, whose conjugations of cash injections and an insertion of talented locals coming through the ranks (though there is a lot to be said for the premise that if you have a player who supported his team since boyhood, he will work his absolute balls off to see that they win, even on freezing cold afternoons in the northeast, ahmmm…Arsenal!)led to continued success, but there has been a deliberate and sustained vision by Benitez to create a team of like-minded individuals with one team mentality.

Sammy Lee's return has given Benitez more focus

Of course, the Spaniard hasn’t always got it right and the importance of Sammy Lee’s return cannot be underestimated. Nevertheless, you have to admire Benitez for his ability to correct his own mistakes insuring nothing and no one gets in the way of his vision. Not one for sentiments, he unceremoniously gets rid of unsuitables, drops star players to the bench and changes systems if things aren’t going to plan. This is a sign of a great manager.

I think it all boils down to ambition. Much is made of Benitez the tactician, the strategist, the tinkerer, yet rarely do people commend him on his judicious insight and perspicuous talent scouting. Simon Cowell has nothing on Benitez.

He often seeks out players with an appetite for success and destiny, particularly players who want this for the team, and not for individual recognition, as an Owen or a Kewell might stand accused. Players of fortitude and burning ambitions; of immense character and desire, whom he will infuse into his formula for success of the highest order. This was integral to his achievements at Valencia and this has been key to his successes at Liverpool in Europe and in Cup competition. Now he’s achieving a level of consistency so that these methods can be applied to the league.

Now, many cite Robbie Keane’s signature, who as the song testifies (Robbie Keane - \’Fiesta\’) has always dreamed of playing for Liverpool, and that of Torres, who indubitably adds the gloss, as final pieces to a jigsaw which is nigh on completion, but for me that theory has already transpired and it is last-gasp goal hero Dirk Kuyt who best personifies what this Liverpool team is about. And his goal at City and the reaction it received from his team-mates only demonstrates further how Kuyt’s infectious spirit typifies a new found belief at the club.

Dirk Kuyt's Herculean work-rate personifies new belief at Liverpool

The only thing proving elusive to me, are those stats that tell us how far a player has ran during a game. If we had them, then I’m sure it would be much easier to fathom why this team is successful. I am in no doubt that Liverpool players, Kuyt in particular, figure high up on these tables (please enlighten us if you have access to them!), and the results would prove conclusively, that this team work their bloody socks off for the cause.

It is this importunate and ambitious character, coupled with the vision of Benitez which makes me certain that this team has what it takes. I just hope to God (cri de coeur!) this inclination materialises and Liverpool win the league, and that I haven’t just played straight into the hands of those who despise us. In Rafa we trust…

The season is in its early stages, yet already there seems to be a familiar pattern emerging. But with Manchester Utd off to a slow start, neighbours Manchester City rivalling Chelsea in the annoyingly ‘we’re richer than you’ claims, and Euro-beaters Arsenal slipping to a shock 2-1 home defeat to an audacious and plucky Hull City, it’s not one we’d envisaged.

Plucky Hull City defeat the might of Arsenal

These early season surprises provide further evidence of the increasingly fragile nature of football, reinforcing the belief that nothing can be taken for granted.

Presumably in time, these trends will inevitably alter (how long before foreign investors get bored playing around with English football clubs given the current economic climate?); nevertheless, some things in English football look less likely to change. 

But whilst the Anfield-curse threatens to thwart the career of yet another striker harnessing the burden of a lofty price-tag, it is another unsuspecting goal-threat who is grabbing all the headlines. And he’s grasping them with both hands. Yes it is highly predictable, possibly even Neanderthal - as some have suggested - but Rory Delap’s huge throw-ins are reaping havoc in the Premier League, proving unstoppable for some of the world’s top defences. It hardly seems real?

More bizarrely, the term ‘a Delap’ may even become immortalised in football folklore as many derisively call for its inclusion into the English dictionary. And they say football has become predictable.

On a more serious note, I am slightly perturbed by Stoke’s limited variation of play this season, lack of attacking guile, and our over-cautious style of football. And if we don’t address this hastily, then I’m afraid our admirable team spirit will not suffice and our stay in this prosperous division will be a sojourn one.

Rory Delap could be writing himself into Stoke City folklore

My main consternation, is soon teams will figure out a way to nullify the danger ‘a Delap’ poses (which weaker defences managed to do much earlier in the Championship), meaning Stoke City will run out of ideas, struggle despondently, and Rory Delap, God love him, will be out of a job. ‘A Delap’ therefore, may tragically become a euphemism for an entirely different act, usually done fortnightly down your local job-centre. It is a disturbing notion.

Furthermore, do we really want to get relegated known as a team who came to defend, who were never brave enough to really go for it, relying solely on long throws and set-pieces?  

Not only do I find it rather absurd to assimilate that such tactics can be adopted, in a game which has become so fast and technical, but it just seems so primitive, not to mention, extremely ugly to watch. That it has worked beautifully (!?!) up to now, the fact Greece won the Euros using similar methods, probably means most of you think I’m being extremely negative about the whole thing, yet my cynicism, I assure you, is constructive. And unless people – including Tony Pulis – step out from their comfort zones, we’ll get nowhere (please make me eat my words). 

It’s just so frustrating to watch, as I’m certain we are capable of producing some good football and this negative stifling approach is robbing us of our best opportunity of securing sustained top flight football for quarter of a century.

We don’t have to resort to route-one football, or rely heavily on suffocation tactics, and I do feel we have it in us to be more positive and progressive. We not only display a lack of confidence but we are showing a lack of ambition also. Granted, we haven’t spent the money Hull City have on certain types of players, but a more adventurous style akin to that of the Tigers is what’s needed, as we simply aren’t utilising the attacking players we have at this club.

Not only has record new signing Dave Kitson struggled - starved of any sort of service - but so too has Ricardo Fuller (our chief goal-getter last term) as he just hasn’t been provided with the kind of through-balls we know a man with his skill and pace thrives on. Ball-playing midfielder Glenn Whelan (in the form of his life for Giovanni Trappattoni’s Republic of Ireland) has rarely figured this season and provides yet another stark reminder of our manager’s over-vigilant mentality.

Glenn Whelan has become a firm favourite of Giovanni Trappatoni for Ireland

Having watched the classy Whelan in all his games for the Republic, I am shocked he isn’t a mainstay in this Stoke City team. He has a very bright future in the game and it’s players like him we should be building our team around.

As Pulis prefers to play safe, opting for physical prowess and crunching tacklers; men closer to resembling heavy-weight boxers than Premier League footballers, who attempt to strangle the life from opponents, I cannot help but feel aggrieved somewhat, and soon when all this is over, we will look back on our return to the big time with acrimony and regret. If we are to go down, we have to go down fighting.
 
There used to be a time when Stoke City widened their pitch to accommodate such greats as Sir Stan & Jimmy Greenhoff; Terry Conroy & Mark Chamberlain; and (the legend that was) Peter Hoekstra, enhancing the effectiveness of our magical wingers, which, like the oatcake, were once a staple diet for the people of the Potteries. Now the manager – judiciously it appears - has narrowed its width to maximise the carnage that ‘a Delap’ missile causes. How times have changed!

Sir Stanley Matthews 'Wing Wizard'

A recent pilgrimage to my homeland (or ‘binge’ as it’s also known) not only eliminated all lingering doubt which had surfaced about my year old (exactly to this day) emigration to Ireland, but by becoming the unsuspecting victim of a daunting scally-attack in the gloomy streets of Manchester (somehow managing to escape unscathed!), I learnt something so utterly profound and life-defining that not even a self-help book could have protruded. And somehow, it can be associated with the situation at Stoke City.

In a blink of an eye (or more aptly, the flick of a knife) my life could so easily have ended, which is not only terribly disconcerting (and raises wider issues about the increasing problem of street violence in the UK), but was also responsible for granting me some much needed perspective on a life that was beginning to pass me by.

Thereupon, I felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility to myself to make the most of my time I have left and to quench every last moment (heck, I may even start this Friday by going along to watch Galway United Vs Cork City despite my reluctance in the past). You see, I want to make the most out of my new surroundings, instead of pining to be in the Britannia, I want to appreciate everything my new environment has to offer me. I’m even lucky enough to get to see Stoke City on the Television this season and I desperately long for this to continue.

Terryland, home of Galway United where I'll be spending Friday night

I’ve begun to realise that life is short and precarious, precious and vital, and in a footballing sense, so is the Premier League. Stoke City may only get one crack at it and I would hate to see their opportunity slip by without them giving it absolutely everything.

By being negative we are cutting off our noses, by lacking adventure we are stifling our chances of survival. Maybe it’s idealism, I’m not so sure, but I want to see us play some football this season. However, if Rory Delap’s supernatural throw keeps us in this marvellous division, thus winning that place in the Oxford dictionary, then who am I to argue. Roll on Sunday.

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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With all the talk of the Lisbon treaty (Ireland voted No by the way!), what a real pleasure it is to be distracted by these fabulous Euro championships. Despite many missing England’s presence (not jess it seems in previous post, or me for that fact), the tournament thus far has been a rip roaring success & an absolute joy to behold. It just shows the greatness of this continent & the talent that is throbbing & ejaculating from within its pastures; europe holds the key to the future; europe viva forever!!!

My article on Euro 2008 will follow shortly; but in the meantime, let me treat you all to what I feel has been the goal of the championships so far (& yes I am aware his brilliant team goal against Italy has received far higher accolades, but I feel this wins in the pure spectacular stakes!). Without further ado: Wesley Sneider, enjoy…

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These are testing times in football as we approach the business end of the season. With nervy title races, gritty relegation scraps, tempestuous fights for promotion & the Champions League still to be decided, we face an exciting finale to what has already been a memorable season. Despite Liverpool progressing in Europe, thus ending any doubt they are a club in crisis, it was Stoke City’s return to form which I found particularly gratifying. After 2 demoralising defeats, Stoke bounced back with a 1-0 win at Norwich on Tuesday, to move back within a point of the league leaders.

With both Stoke & Liverpool seemingly rejuvenated (their penance surely served?), my confidence has been fully restored & I am hoping 2008 will materialize into the year of the underdog. Hold onto your oatcakes, we’re in for a pulsating end to the season.

Firstly, let us assimilate the events of the last fortnight…

After a sojourn stint as league leaders, Stoke suffered 2 defeats culminating in a crushing loss at QPR. The degradation of this 3-0 thumping had emanated from the disappointment of Preston, with the presence of the Sky cameras rubbing more salt into Potters’ wounds. This maudlin feeling distended until the 91st minute against Burnley when Lenny Lawrence (aka Golden Balls) coolly dispatched that penalty, via keeper & post, to salvage a vital draw for the Potters. Memories of England V Greece came flooding back. Which brings us to the events of last Tuesday when Stoke recaptured their form by grabbing a slender 1-0 win at Norwich. It was a crucial victory & puts Stoke right back in the promotion race.  
 
If Lawrence was an expected hero against Burnley (grabbing his 14th goal of the campaign), Tuesday’s match-winner Mama Sidibe then was possibly the unlikeliest of suspects, after scoring only his 2nd goal of the season. For me though, the real match winner was again Rory Delap, the genuine unsung hero of our incredible season. Again, it was his lethal long-throw which set-up Mama’s goal, whom even with his woeful scoring record would’ve found it difficult to fluff. A friend of mine suggested Sidibe reminded him of John Fashanu (of Gladiator fame). Now I prefer to think of him as a poor man’s Heskey, but it did get me thinking there is a strong resemblance between the spirit of ‘The Crazy Gang’ & that of this mighty Stoke team. I’m not getting at Sidibe mind; He does give this team something with his admirable work-rate & attitude, especially away from home. Nonetheless, Sidibe is to ‘Premier League Striker’ what Lilly Allen is to ‘Ghetto Princess’. 

Now, we are having a wonderful season, so it is hard to cast aspersions, or blame anyone in particular for our sudden collapse. But hey what the heck? Salif Diao’s form has been woeful since he returned to City & results when he has started games have reflected this. In contrast, games Delap has started have ended well for the Potters, & it’s not purely because of his dangerous throws (though they do help!). What stands out most in his absence is the extra time & space given to our opposition. This indicates the shift he puts in & workrate, which at present, in this department Diao is found wanting. At QPR, minus Delap, we looked exposed, as Diao failed to close down their midfielders; & two goals were a direct result of this. The third was obviously down to Griffin’s scandalous dismissal as they took advantage of their extra man. Despite Griffin being a euphemism for ‘Premier League Reject’, he is a vital component of this Stoke team, & when he is not palying, he is sorely missed.

Admittedly, I was one who called for Daio’s inclusion at QPR, but I now realise this was just wishful thinking. And with Whelan returning from suspension against Watford, he surely has to come in alongside Rory.

Let me bore you with the statistics. We’ve scored 61 goals in games that Delap has appeared in & conceded just 49. We’ve scored 12 goals Diao has appeared in & conceded 15. For minutes they have been on the field we’ve conceded an average of 0.7 goals per game that Delap has been involved in; comparing to 2.3 goals per game for games involving Diao, & we have to remember Delap has been involved in the majority of games until recently. Make of these stats what you will, but IMO Rory Delap is a major factor in our success & without him we look far more vulnerable. Bear in mind that both played together at Norwich & played well, but it wasn’t until Diao left the field that we went on to score. 

Watching Liverpool last Tuesday (with the Stoke commentary blaring through my PC speakers) I drew huge encouragement from the Red’s performance, which pervaded from their miraculous turnaround of late. Yes, they may well only finish fourth in the PL, remain a rasher short of the full fry-up, but victory in Europe is far from beyond the realm of possibility; & their performances, since the resolving of the owners/manager confrontation, have improved enormously. Likewise, Stoke seem to have turned things around on Tuesday night after seemingly losing their way in their bid for automatic promotion.

Two weekends ago it was an altogether different story, as I enjoyed a deserved break in wonderful Killarney (Co. Kerry). And it went something a little like this…
(This is my attempt at a slightly alternative blog for those of you who are interested. Those who are not, please feel free to skip the italics & move onto rest of article) 

The road to Killarney was a treacherous one, insinuating caution up ahead. The wind whistled hostilely, the rain blew boisterously on the wind, as I left the sharp rocky undulations of Galway in the West, for the green, luscious & rolling hills of Kerry in the South. However, as I revelled in the charms of the place they call ‘The Kingdom’, I couldn’t help but think, not only about Stoke’s game on Sunday ,but also, that it was well worth the journey. For Stoke it was a different story.

Killarney itself ; sleepy by day yet a bastion of activity in the evening, was both warmly friendly and infectiously relaxed. The surrounding landscapes of Kerry were nothing short of breathtaking and the; dreamy green meadows, grandiose mountains, calm soothing lakes & picturesque waterfalls, made for a most memorable weekend. I even had the novelty of visiting one of the world’s most spectacular golf courses, coincidently sharing its name with my surname (now that’s identity for you?).

It was the journey back however, which stands out most for me, as I desperately searched for a venue to witness Stoke’s televised trip South against QPR.

With Liverpool playing at a similar time on Setanta, especially considering their huge popularity in Ireland, my chances of finding a pub playing the Stoke game were slim to none at all. So, when I stumbled upon The Queens Hotel, in the historical town of Ennis (Co. Clare) whom – in having the benefit of two separate systems - agreed to put the game on a small screen in the corner, I was obviously delighted. Randomly this “delightful” establishment, featured in James Joyce’s masterpiece ‘Ulysses’. However, it was the maelstrom created by the abnormality of these two particular games being played simultaneously, which made for an altogether surreal and testing scenario.

For those of you who don’t know by now, I am also a massive Liverpool supporter. This affection owes much to the three enjoyable years I spent on Merseyside, & the eternal bond I will forever hold with Scousers. Nevertheless, however dilettante my support of Stoke City has been over the years, and pleasure Liverpool have given me, I have always stressed, if I had to choose, then Stoke City would undoubtedly come first. On Mothering Sunday though, my allegiances & integrity were well and truly tested.            

It would turn out to be an afternoon of bittersweet emotion. Afraid the game may be switched over, I watched-on unobtrusively in the corner, sound turned off, as the Liverpool-Bolton match blared out from the big screen. Determined not to let the Liverpool match distract me (despite Stoke’s 3-0 capitulation & the sheer noise levels of Liverpool’s brogue relations), I kept my eyes firmly on the Stoke match until the final whistle. In doing so, I proved to myself (if to no one else) that it is the Stoke fraternity where my heart truly belongs, and ultimately whose promotion to the PL would mean that much more. The road from Killarney was not a conversion as such, more like a strengthening of a faith that needed confirming. THE END

The clash of the Stoke & Liverpool matches that Sunday resulted in galvanising my fraternity for the team I have supported since childhood, & may well have cured a very mild identity crisis. It has been a similar situation for Rafa at Liverpool. Benitez, judiciously it now seems, decided to test the metal of Liverpool’s Yankee owners, calling their bluff to see how serious they were about Liverpool FC. It seemed risky at the time, but Benitez knew he had the backing of the fans as a safety net, & in-turn he received the assurances he was looking for. Moreover, His team look stronger as a consequence of this conflict & he too looks to be in a much stronger position, despite his many doubters outside the club. Deep down, I - like Benitez - knew the loyalty was always there; it just needed to be tested to confirm what I had always suspected.

So, I am hoping both clubs will put their indignations behind them & the fortitude displayed of late continues to shine until the end of the season. I have been mightily impressed by the resolve of both Benitez & Pulis this season, especially the way they are not afraid to make changes when things are simply not working. Pragmatic as Pulis is; He like Benitez has a ruthless streak, & IMO this is required for the current circumstances at Stoke. Pulis surprised many when he stuck with Sidibe at Norwich in favour of top scorer Ricardo Fuller. But while this decision raised many eyebrows, it came off for our Tone, as Sidibe grabbed the winner. As I mentioned earlier, Sidibe works his socks off, & this is a huge asset away from home. Fuller, despite his goal threat, is an individual & can at times go missing &  appear lazy. Furthermore, Pulis has shown his strength in the loan market again, acquiring the services of Chris Riggott from Derby, who has steadied our recently shaky defence. Ryan Shawcross, for all his potential, is still only young remember, & although he has been a colossus this season, it was right he was dropped after QPR. And didn’t this decision pay dividends?

Nevertheless, I feel Pulis has to delve into the transfer market one last time if we are to achieve promotion. A catalyst in attack is needed to get us across the finish line, akin to Sheringham’s move to West Ham or (dare I say it?) Merson’s move to Portsmouth. There are rumours of Nugent coming & he certainly fits this criteria. However, IMHO I would opt for more experience in our current situation (viz. Brian McBride or Jason Roberts). But I suppose Jay Bothroyd will just have to make-do!
 
Tomorrows game at Watford will provide our biggest test yet - & of course is the quintessential 6-pointer. But if Whelan comes in alongside Delap in midfield & Riggott continues his impressive contribution to the cause, I have every confidence it’s a game we can overcome. And wouldn’t it be great if Liverpool triumphed in Europe again, wiping the smug smiles off the faces of first Arsenal, then Chelsea & possibly United in the final. But, regardless of the events of the close season, nothing will ever change the way I feel about Stoke City, successful in their quest or not. But, wouldn’t it be the proudest moment of a whole new generation of Stokies, if we were to reach the Promised Land? And my ties with Liverpool FC would be finally severed. (Everybody!) I’m City till I die…

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It was the moment we had all been waiting for. And much more besides. Stoke City took on Preston at Deepdale on Tuesday night, in what was the 101st meeting between two of England’s most prestigious clubs. It was league leaders against a club fighting for survival, old masters versus –hopefully - the new. It was a blustery evening in the northwest, on a heavily waterlogged pitch & a typically open night in the Championship.

And on such an emotionally-charged occasion, it was the youngest referee in the league who took charge of the game (if that’s what you call it), a mere pup at the tender age of 22. This was the Championship & this was of course Stoke City.

But, despite this being an evening of bitter disappointment, when inexperience cost Stoke City dearly, I refuse to dwell on the negatives. And in a game which could quite easily ended 5-3 to the Potters, I am determined to remain objective. This after-all was just another ordinary night in the Championship & hopefully just one more lesson learned in complacency. And oddly enough, just what the manager had warned his team about prior to the Preston match.

In the pre-match build-up, with Stoke receiving some unfamiliar - & possibly unwanted – media attention, Pulis’ perfect analogy revealed to journo’s the competitive nature of this division. A typically down-to-earth Tone, told of how his team knew the dangers of their position, & if his team didn’t continue to fire on all cylinders, then their pants would be duly pulled & their arses unceremoniously reddened (or words to that effect). Needless to say, his team, not for the want of trying, were slightly off their A-games at Deepdale & as a result a newly expectant crowd went back to Stoke extremely disappointed.

The game for me went something a little like this…

Rushing back from work, I was desperate to purchase something, apart from ale, that would get me in the mood for the 12th from last game of the season. I decided, as I was not at the match, in Ireland even, I would try to recreate the conditions as though I were actually there - a sort of antidote for my recent bout of home-sickness. Of course, the friendly looking young girl behind the bakery counter looked at me quizzically when I asked her for a savoury meat & potato pie, so I decided to refrain from asking my 2nd question of “got any Wrights?”(Realising I was clutching at straws with this one!). I left dejected, but not defeated.

Undeterred, I stopped to get steak mince from the butchers & grabbed some spuds from the Super Valu. Yes, I would have a bash myself. I had to be quick though; it was 5.30pm & the match kicked-off in a little over 2 hours. Once home, I diligently cracked on with my pie-making. After much fortitude & persistence, I scrupulously glazed a wholesome looking pie with egg yolk & whacked it in a hot oven. Job done. Or so I thought.

Now sweating profusely, I switched on my PC & Sky Sports for the build-up, where Stoke were receiving some uncharted media attention. We were the league leaders & with our rivals not in action until the weekend, this was an opportunity for us to move four points clear of the pack, so the interest was fully justified. Sky Sports news flashes & radio Stoke (via the internet) provided my usual vantage; headphones on, like an old man with his wireless, I listened on intently…

The game kicked-off & I could hear a buoyant travelling support in the background. I went through the usual list emotions: “why aren’t I there”, “I’m missing out again” & “I know we can do this”. After a bright start, we were immediately put on the back foot, as Preston showed us their credentials. I didn’t expect this to be an easy game - despite their precarious league position -after experiencing some tough battles with Preston in recent years (most memorably when they beat us 4-3 at the start of season 02/03 - with none other than Cresswell scoring the winner in injury-time for the North-Enders). Moreover, despite being in the relegation zone, they’d recorded some pretty impressive results this season, including; homes wins against Watford (& a recent draw away) & Brazil (aka West Brom), & also performed an FA Cup demo-job on Championship bound Derby. They are indeed a team who deserved respect & we were duly obliging…             

The crowd continued to show their support & we heard our first (impressive) rendition of ‘Delilah’. The atmosphere in those early stages, I have to say, sounded electric & I dearly wished I was there in person soaking up the atmosphere. They responded with an ‘olé olé olé olé’ of their own after doing well to retain possession. Tony Gayle - the Sky correspondent for this game - was making long ball jibes all-night long (& will always find an ally in Paul Merson – who bizarrely has an axe to grind with Stoke) & suggested Preston wanted it far more. I begged to differ. The ex-pro (in case you weren’t aware) would later wind-me-up further when accusing Lawrence of “over-playing it” with ‘that’ chance, making the wise crack: “you won’t hear that said about Stoke too often” (very original!). I can now see why he writes for The Sun… 

And so, when they took a seemingly deserved lead, everyone at Sky saw it coming. I shrugged it off nonplussed, with thoughts of Scunthorpe an overriding factor for my continued optimism. Besides, maybe it was what the game needed & more importantly give Stoke the proverbial kick up the backside. How wrong I was…

10 short minutes later (me, momentarily soothed by hearing the drawled-out monosyllables of my beloved home-town accent) & it was 2-0 & my confidence came crashing down to earth with a thud. It was the same scorer, another free-kick, & more importantly young Shawcross who was again at fault for their goal. With the poignancy of the “Ell feel that, I can tell ya” comment resounding painstakingly through my earphones, I irrationally blamed the commentator for the curse he’d placed on our team. Regaining my composure, albeit fearing this was going to be one of those nights, I said to myself: “one goal & we’re back in it”. These sentiments lasted until 10 minutes from the end; when I decided after a barrage of chances, a couple of injury scares & bans to key players, my fears had been fully realised. I became engulfed by the fowl stench of defeat & it wasn’t the only thing I could smell. Caught-up in the melodrama, I had completely forgotten about my bleedin’ pie!  My beautiful pie was burnt beyond recognition & capped what turned out to be a miserable evening.

I quickly snapped out of my depression as I regained some much needed perspective. We can take major consolation in the manner of this defeat & solace in the fact we still sit proudly at the top of the table. And in the Championship, the points are certainly worth more than the games in hand. Furthermore, an away tie at a club fighting for their lives, on a murderous night in the northwest, was never going to be easy.

This crushing defeat didn’t exactly have a silver-lining per se, but in the grand scheme of things it could well prove to be a blessing in disguise. I would much prefer to learn a lesson like this now, rather than in the last couple of games of the season when it is much too late to put things right. I only hope this was a passing shower, that we recover quickly & the sun is shining on Stoke City in Shepherds Bush on Sunday. 

In hindsight, this was an evening to forget about & it is only how we react to it that matters most. If we respond to it like we did to the defeat away to Charlton, then it may well have done us a favour. If we let it affect our confidence, then it could harm the rest of our campaign. I sense it won’t trouble us too much & our bellicose spirit – which we’ve shown in the past - will be our redemption once again.

Nevertheless, it’s important we learn form this & we learn our lesson quickly. In this division, resting on one’s laurels is not an option & Pulis has to find a solution to our wayward finishing & nervous defence, if we are to achieve promotion. Last season Sunderland persistently added to their squad right until the end, adding to areas where they needed to improve. The signing of Stern John added fresh impetuous to their attack & he in-turn added some vital goals in their run-in. Despite Sidibe playing a pivotal role in our success this term & him being an un-sung hero of this team (a concept which a Guardian journo failed to grasp in midweek), IMO we do need more variation to our play, & more importantly, another goalscorer to come in alongside Fuller. We have to keep improving & keep progressing, or else, as Bob Dylan once put it – we will certainly start to sink like a stone.        

IMHO, tough games at Deepdale should be taken with more caution & Diao possibly should have started the match. A 0-0 draw in the circumstances would have sufficed. But then again, Diao has struggled with fitness of late & his combative spirit has waned somewhat from last season. I agreed totally with TP’s judicious decision to leave Salif out in the last few matches, but at QPR on Sunday; it is time he is reinstalled in the Stoke City midfield & we call upon his vast experience in these testing circumstances.

In summery, the Preston match was much like my pie fiasco. I don’t mean Stoke resemble a burnt-out mess, full of spuds & mince, on the crust of failure, although I have met a few dubious characters from the Potteries in my time. Rather, despite the effort & application I put into my pie-making, it just wasn’t meant to be. My girlfriend has warned me not to try it again, in fear ill bugger et up once more, but I most certainly will; knowing that if I just adjust the temperature & get my timing a little better, I’ll make a success of it next time around. Similarly, if Stoke learn from what went wrong at Preston, then they still have a great chance of promotion. I would’ve been more worried if Stoke didn’t make the chances on Tuesday, but in truth, we could’ve easily won the game 5-3 with the chances (& penalty shout) we created.

In response to my last article on Stoke, a confused Sunderland fan (missing my point completely) wrote in angrily to me, saying that if we go up then we too will have glory-hunters latching onto us. For the record I was only suggesting Sunderland had gained a huge Irish following since the appointment of Keane & his subsequent Irish recruitment policy. But, if what he was suggesting comes true, then I wouldn’t bemoan the fact & will except our fate willingly.

I’m off to Killarney (Co. Kerry) this weekend & I am certainly looking forward to seeing ‘the Kingdom’ and the famous ‘Ring of Kerry’. But mostly, I can’t wait to see Stoke City’s long overdue match shown on Sky Sports this Sunday. And if I can recruit, round-up, or muster any kind of support for the mighty Potters, then I will do so with pride & honour. We’re still the underdogs I know, nethertheless, despite our many doubters after Tuesday, I am still hopeful we’ll bounce back even stronger at QPR & I am sure we’ll continue to add to our ever-growing support. Fingers crossed.

Remember to join me again & ill let you know how I got on in Kerry….

These are intriguing times in football. Already in 2008; there has been the return of ‘King Kev’ - to the delight of the masses on Tyneside (and rightfully predicted by your humble narrator), an Italian taking charge of England, & another much older & wiser (say the Irish) one taking charge of Ireland (in what has surely been the longest appointment process of all-time), they even planned to play the PL abroad – with an absurd ‘39th game proposal’. There is also Keano’s Irish revolution happening up at Sunderland, who incidentally, have become embroiled in one of the most exciting relegation battles in PL history. But for me, the most invigorating story in football at present is the rise of my beloved Stoke City to the summit of the Championship; whom after years of suffering & degradation find themselves on the verge of top flight football once again. And I have never been more excited.

These are also significant times for The English Football Post. Soon, you will be able to leave your own post, similar to this one, as we attempt to revolutionize the way football is discussed on the internet & offer an alternative to the usual forum archetype. Register & you’ll also be able to share your views with a mass audience; post your own article; or even start your own blog.

Anyway, back to my story…

When I moved to Ireland, any hopes of watching my team regularly had relinquished; fearful I had condemned myself to a life of listening to Stoke City on the radio via the internet, but for an annual FA Cup exit that may or may not be televised. Or, I may be lucky enough to occasionally watch the mighty Potters live on Sky Sports in the back room of a deserted Irish pub, as I listlessly attempted to explain to a polite-but-uninterested fella, where exactly Stoke-on-Trent is (closer to Manchester than Birmingham), who indeed comes from there (the Captain of the Titanic), & how important the Potteries used to be (pre-Thatcher). And this of course, would be on condition no Rugby or Gaelic matches - with any whiff of significance – were not on another channel; or that SUNDERLAND were not on Setanta, in which case, I’d have to indiscreetly & shamelessly watch the game in the stink of the bookies.

It seemed I had incarcerated myself to a life of torment. Or so I thought…

You see, after a 5th straight win against Ipswich yesterday, Stoke sit proudly at the summit of the Championship, & I would be lying if I said I am not slightly hopeful about our very realistic chances of promotion. My ardour, is echoed I am sure, by my fellow long suffering Stokies, & we could well be watching our team regularly on Sky Sports, Sentanta, ‘MotD’ & ‘The Premiership’ (its Irish equivalent) next season. And Potter’s fires will be well & truly reignited.

IMO Stoke are the Sunderland of the Championship this season; minus the Irish bandwagon – those which mysteriously came out of the woodwork last season, swearing blind they had followed the Black Cats since the days of Gabbiadini (classy goalscorer from 80’s & early 90’s) & the legend that was John Byrne (not so great goal-getter with 22 Caps for Eire). Stoke do not just adopt a similar style of football as Sunderland, possess their never-say-die spirit, or simply share the same workmanlike qualities as the Wear-siders; Stoke embody a je ne sais quoi, reminiscent of Roy Keane’s team last term, which ultimately won them promotion.

But the correlation between the two northern cities don’t stop there, & the similarities between the two clubs, dare I say it, are there in red & white.

Not only are these two heavily industrial cities of similar size & stature, but the working-class inhabitants are of corresponding nature also. And despite Sunderland being far more successful in the first half of last century, many parallels can be made in both club’s illustrious histories. Those amongst you who know your history will be aware that Stoke City are the 2nd oldest football club in the world, & inaugural members of the football league. But in that first season, unable to compete with likes of Preston, Burnley & Blackburn, Stoke finished bottom of the table & were controversially voted out of the top division. Their replacement, yes you guessed it, were Sunderland AFC. And to add insult to injury, Sunderland – the first club outside the midland/northwest region to compete in the football league – played in the same red & white strips famed by the Potters. The archetypes don’t stop there. 
                              

Some hundred years later & Stoke City were relegated from the top division in 1984/5 with a record lowest points tally. Some 20 years later, & who else but Sunderland were relegated with fewer. And finally, if it wasn’t enough that the old Roker Park looked suspiciously identical to Stoke’s famous Victoria Ground, the Black Cats new stadium - albeit with their corners filled-in thus accounting for an extra 20,000 capacity – is a carbon copy of the Britannia Stadium, & both opened in Aug 1997. It’s no great surprise then that ‘the Mackems’ are beginning to get up my nose.

Sunderland’s renaissance has been well-documented; I only hope the coincidences continue.

The excitement of transfer deadline day, matched any I’d experienced & took me back to days of page 302 on Ceefax. Whilst most, tuned into Sky Sports news to see if the Defoe/Benjani transfer had gone through, I anxiously sought confirmation that Glenn Whelan had become a Stoke City player. With his move from Sheff Wed not confirmed until 20 after midnight, with not even a mention by newsreaders, I retired to my bed with my renewed optimism fully justified. This signing, together with the £2.2million spent on 2 free-scoring centre-backs represented a massive change at Stoke City; whom hitherto, had always been a selling club. I wouldn’t go as far in saying that the Whelan transfer will be the catalyst in Stoke’s promotion, but it is certainly an extremely positive sign for a club used to letting go players with even an iota of potential. (Garth Crooks, Paul Bracewell, Adrian ‘inchie’ Heath, Peter Beagrie, Steve Bould, Lee Dixon, Mark Stein & Mike Sheron to name just a few)

At a club, where over the years, the fans had lost all confidence in the board (& at times the feeling  has been mutual) the Glenn Whelan signing, arguably the most promising midfielder outside the PL, for a meagre £500,000, is a massive coup for Stoke City & a gigantic step in the right direction. He’s young, gifted & Irish; I cannot believe Roy Keane & ‘Big Bird’ didn’t come sniffing.

But it’s two other Irish midfielders, whom Keane atypically decided to let go, that have been the biggest factor in Stoke’s remarkable run of form. Lawrence (£500,000 & scored 13 goals this season) & Delap (free & player of the season IMHO) have been Stoke’s two outstanding performers this season & a clear indication of Tone’s (as he’s affectionately known on the Potteries) shrewdness in the transfer market. If Stoke do get promoted, Stokies will be eternally grateful to Keane for gifting them with these two gemstones.

While we’re on the subject, & taking nothing away from Keane’s achievements at Sunderland; his dealings in the transfer market at times have been, at the very least, contentious. Tony Pulis, on the other hand has an impeccable record, & he deserves all the kudos that will inevitably be thrown his way. Previously known as the ‘Loan Ranger’, Tone has finally been granted a modest transfer kitty by friend & chairman Peter Coates(Bet365), & despite spending a record breaking £3.5million on players this season, the money he has recouped on sales such as Danny Higginbottom (£2.5mill to Sunderland – who else!) means he’s still £370,000 in the green. Furthermore, in his last tenure as Stoke manager, Pulis managed to make profits of £1.15million. No wonder himself & the chairman are such good friends. Keane for the record is £41.42million (& people give Benitez stick!) in the red in just 2 seasons at Sunderland, & I am not in the least bit surprised himself & big Quinny don’t get along.

Pulis, is not quite in the Wenger mould, nevertheless, Tone is the quintessential modern day manager, who understands the realities of running a club such as Stoke City. Whilst Sunderland’s return to top flight was quick-fix, tempestuous & dramatic, Stoke’s revival has been more steady & pragmatic. His team reminds me a lot of Tony Waddington’s (Stoke legend) teams of the seventies. He too, assembled a team of strays, cast-offs, past-its & also-rans, & mixed them with young talent (like Pejic & Hudson), & his strategies earned him huge success (winning the league cup in 1972). Tone’s side may well be a little more workmanlike than they were in the ‘Waddo Years’, owing much to his military background, but by incorporating flair players into his team such as Fuller & Lawrence, Pulis, like Waddington, has achieved a similar balance; & this has been key to the club’s recent success.

In short, on deadline day Stoke signed a young promising Irishman, wouldn’t it be ironic if he, along with 2 other Irishmen whom Keane cast aside, were the reasons behind Stoke City’s promotion. And wouldn’t it be poetic justice if it was Sunderland we replaced & this time it was they who were relegated? This is in no way any form of schadenfreude, it’s more like retribution, albeit after waiting 128 years for it to be exacted.

Keane, more than anybody, knows that success is born from adversity, & it’s for this reason, together with how much it means to the fans, that I am so desperate for Stoke to get promoted. And if my dreams are realised, we reach the PL, & we also sign a few more Irish players; I wonder if, whilst watching my beloved Stoke City live on Sky Sports in an Irish alehouse, I’ll be sitting alone? Or will I be joined by a bunch of brogues, all shouting for the mighty Potters?

It is a beautiful notion…

Sometimes, it is only when you move away that you find out most about the place you left behind. After years of scrutinizing, it is this very wonderful paradox which has allowed me to become closer to understanding the nature of English football & the fundamental reasons behind its success. Whether it is a new found maturity, a clarity born from escaping the social constraints of home, safe from hazardous distractions, or simply because I now have something to compare it to; I’m not entirely sure. Nevertheless, moving away has certainly opened my eyes to a concept that many managers have seemingly failed to grasp; that it is the fans who make football what it is, & any club chasing success has to consider them when building a successful team.

This was something Bill Shankly was only too aware of, & probably why he seemed light years ahead of his contemporaries. My sincere apologies for bringing it up again but his ‘more important than life or death’ analogy of the game showed more insight than it is ever given credit for. Yes, it is the most famous, overused (often misused) football clichés of them all, but read between the lines – which a country the size of America failed to do when Lennon made an equally profound observation about human behaviour - & Shankly was beautifully emphasizing how much football meant to the English people. He realised the importance of the people, the major role they played, & by understanding the social fabric of a club he was unlocking the door to success. After what he installed at Liverpool, it’s no surprise his legacy shines perpetually through the corridors at Anfield & his veracious philosophy of ‘placing his faith in the fans’ becomes more poignant by the day.

Two contrasting situations at Liverpool & Newcastle in recent weeks, indicates further the power of the fans & the importance of having their backing. There is no doubt in my mind that if Liverpool fans had turned against their manager – in what has been a turbulent few months at Anfield – then ‘the Americans’ would have given Rafa the boot faster than it took Hilary Clinton to turn on the crocodile tears when she was told it would help her election campaign. And Allardyce; if fans hadn’t become so disenchanted with the ‘Big Sham’ style of football, then Mike Ashley would have certainly waited until the end of the season before making any sort of decision.

You see, football has never been about the players, the chairman – even if he has his own agenda - or even the manager. It is the happiness of the paying public that dictates the destiny of a club. And if a club loses sight of this, then failure is inevitable; & someone, usually the manager, has to pay the price. Of course in light of what happened to Phil O’Donnell, the irrelevance of football pales in significance, but where football is concerned, then it is the supporters who have to take precedence.

I have the utmost respect for the two sets of aforementioned supporters, both for their impeccable football knowledge & their judicious demand for entertaining football – which many sets of supporters often lose sight of. I was shocked by Chelsea fan’s lack of protests after the departure of a man who had brought more success to their club than anyone in its history.

Yes, there are wider issues to be considered, but the fundamental purpose of our game is to be entertained & it is this factor which has worked in favour of Benitez at Liverpool & against Allardyce at Newcastle. It is testament to the people of the Northwest & Northeast whose primary loyalties lie with seeing good football.

Despite Liverpool’s title aspirations becoming ruefully unstuck in December, fans are not fickle enough to forget everything Benitez has achieved & how the cultured, often complex football, which his sides adopt, is a far cry from the wing-backs of Souness & the defensive counter-attacking of Houllier. It would be interesting to find out how the hoi polloi of the Toon – who have been used to watching flair players inspire their team to victory over the years (Keegan, Waddle, Mirandinha, Gazza, Asprilla, Ginola to name just a few) - viewed Big Sam’s appointment in the first place. It appears new chairman Mike Ashley was against it from the start & should maybe bear this in mind when he’s appointing a new man at Newcastle; & that fans are consulted.

Great managers have always taken the thoughts & feelings of the fans into careful consideration when building their teams, & the traits of people they are representing have reflected in the team’s style of football. Busby, Stein, Kendall & Clough – all from mining backgrounds - managed their clubs like factory owners, in keeping with the working class northern & midland cities they represented. And it arguebly paid dividends.

There is Ferguson also, who is made from similar stock; although his more cosmopolitan warehouse has moved with the times & won numerous prizes for innovation over the years. It was Shankly though whose philosophy first created a club for the people. Placing his faith in the supporters, he created an image of Liverpool FC in the likeness of its citizens. This laid the foundations for continued success & turned a struggling club into a bastion of invincibility. Liverpool of the seventies & eighties reflected the image of the city itself; hardworking, canny, passionate, resilient & creative, & his faith in the people was undoubtedly rewarded. Benitez has similar respect for the fans & their traditions, & that is why they’ll back him indomitably. Often it is a case of pleasing the masses & more often than not it’s a case of - the public gets what the public wants.

Watching my home-town team Stoke City against the Barcodes, was an enlightening experience & strengthens my argument further by two apposing expectations of these two, once similar, sets of supporters. It has been quite some time though since Stanley danced on the wing in the Potteries, and the glory days of Banks, Conroy & Hudson, when Stoke were a mainstay in England’s top division (& even League Cup winners in ‘72’) , have long since diminished. For the moment at least, the good people of the Potteries are content with watching their players running their bollocks off & expect nothing less than ‘getting stuck in’ as a requisite for playing for Stoke City. But Potters, once famed for their highly skilled craftsmanship, like Geordies, albeit rather more surreptitiously, long to see players of similar stature playing at the Britannia & witness football akin to the quality of the pots they once skillfully produced not all that long ago. Get to the Premier League & they just might!

But, despite the increased television coverage of football - & living in Ireland where amazingly there is more English football on TV than in England – the older I become the fussier I have become about the type of football I like to be watching. It is possible my newly found liberty is down to leaving the territory of teams I support, or that the organically neutral Irish are rubbing off; who knows? But if Liverpool fail to win the league – which looks increasingly likely - & Stoke don’t win the cup or get promoted, then I would like Arsenal to be triumphant, after their easy-on-the-eye football added me to their growing list of admirers. Their vibrant multi-cultural style, refreshingly youthful approach to football has been a joy to watch this season & thus paints an inviting picture of modern London. In fact, you could say they have put London on map in some respects. (Well maybe not, but you see what I am getting at)

The point I’ve been trying to make is that football should be a matter of basic economics & comply with simple laws of supply & demand. Football in England is more popular than Jesus Christ, so it is only wise – regardless of the money factor – that fans are consulted & considered. And before Americans get their frilly knickers in a twist, start to burn effigies of my name, or go persecuting any more civilizations that differ from their own; this, for once, is not about you. My statement reflects trends in the culture of heathen England & is merely an observation. And Catholics (of which I stand accused) alas! Pope Benedict XVI has recently acknowledged the increasingly powerful role of football within society, suggesting that - despite its obvious(?) exploitation & corruption – football has an important moral message about life to teach us all. Sounds familiar doesn’t it?

And for what it’s worth, I would like to see Shearer, with Keegan as a director of football, to return to the healm & lead the renaissance up at their beloved Newcastle. And I would like to wish them every success in the future, as God knows, the people of Newcastle surely deserve it.

I awoke this morning overwhelmed by a familiar feeling of impending doom, thus igniting painful memories of a childhood flooded with extinguished dreams. For if England lose to Croatia – who have already qualified –tomorrow & subsequently fail to reach Euro 08, it will be the 2nd time in 13 years a nation of supposedly considerable football clout has been unable to qualify for a major tournament. Of course after Russia’s dramatic late defeat in Tel Aviv, England only need a draw at Wembley & should join a Croatian team, seemingly having nothing to play for, in the finals. But, despite qualification being in our own hands, I remain extremely pessimistic about the state of English football, deeply concerned by the lack of quality in our national team & continue to be uninspired by players this country seems to be producing. If we do qualify for Switzerland – I don’t fancy our chances.

England will go into the game without Rooney & Owen, & wont find it easy against a characteristically skilful & gifted Croatia. With memories of Rotterdam weighing heavy on the mind, it’s an all too familiar story & one, which, no matter what the outcome, will leave question marks hanging ominously over, not only the ability of the manager & the reasoning behind his appointment; but also, the calibre of players he’s had at his disposal.

On that fateful night in the Netherlands, I blamed Ronald Koeman, but most directed their anger at a hapless manager who ultimately paid the price defeat & duly sacked. In hindsight, those incredulous shortcomings marked the end of an era for me & death of a certain type of player, which hitherto had been commonplace in English football. My heroes of ‘86’ & ‘90’ were all but retired at this stage & were being replaced by such players of the Carlton Palmer, David Batty & Andy Sinton mould. It was the birth of a school of thought in this country that skill didn’t win you matches & flair, thereby, was no longer deemed necessary. At first this change in approach & a new ethos to ‘win at all costs’ worked perfectly & nearly paid immediate dividends in ‘Euro 96’ when football ‘almost’ came home. But this initial success was short lived & arguably we’ve not come anywhere near these standards since. If Taylor’s failings suggested an increasing vulnerability, then McClaren’s latest struggle indicates that once more we stand culpable of becoming victims of our own infallibility. And like Taylor, McClaren cannot be held fully accountable.

We’ve had enough of big strong centre backs & complete(?) midfielders, we need players with genuine skill & artistry, who can not only entertain but turn matches in a heartbeat with one moment of brilliance. It’s time for a shift in company policy & time we faced up to the reality that this so called golden generation are not so golden after all. As when you look at it – what the fuck have they won?

Thinking back to the joys of ‘Italia 90’ I drool with envy over both England & Ireland’s line-ups & the creativity we used to take for granted. Both teams possessed a wealth of talent & experience, oozing flair & fecundity. As a result both teams made it out alive from the group of death; with Jackie’s men ‘giving it a lash’ & partying their way to a creditable quarter-final, & Bobby Robson’s