Picture the scene, a sportswear superstore housed in what used to be the Heaven ‘n’ Hell nightclub I used to frequent, 20ft high on Blackpool promenade. 

   “Are you sure you don’t want this one, lad?” The bald Geordie bloke asked, cheekily. He held up the new Liverpool away shirt, before wandering off to buy another pair of England leisure shorts.
   “Ha, no you’re alright thanks mate (fuck off)” I retorted, wanting to make the 1=20 sign to him, knowing he wouldn’t understand anyway.

And so it was that a twenty one year tradition continued, and I got another new Everton shirt.

It’s been a while dear readers, and much has happened since my last heartfelt mutterings were submitted for your consideration. Both personally and vis-à-vis the football world, things have changed, and although certain aspects of this boy’s life look more rosy now, the murky world of L4 4EL is not quite so positive at present.

Everton's only summer signing

The only new addition is a funnily-named assistant coach Steve Round (pictured above), whilst our tubby Chief Exec and several players have departed, the three non-hairy ones and two of the hairier ones strangely. Anyway, rumours persist that signings are imminent and despite the ground move being discussed and delayed ad nauseum, the new season at least offers intrigue and some excitement.

Much will be written about the upcoming season, I’ve decided instead to update you on my summer and to discuss in depth another of my first loves – the football kit.

The Euros seem long ago now, some great football was played there though not by my chosen team Italy, more on which later. In fact, let’s start now, I bought the smart Italy shirt on ebay to show my loyalty to the Azzurri. Even though it was a realistic enough fake, I was glad not to have spent the full amount as they were largely disappointing save a much-needed performance against France. Overall it was a great tournament and the wallchart and sticker album were certainly kept busy.

My team during Euro 2008 - the Azzurri

I wore the shirt (to some funny looks) on my jaunt to the peninsula. What a week myself and Mrs Morrissey had, food and wine like nothing else and some amazing sights – beautiful landscapes, bright sunshine, tortoises having aggressive sex in a restaurant garden that sort of thing – I even visited the PisaCalcio stadium which was a disappointment save for the interesting graffiti around it. The lifestyle there is so incredible, those of you lucky enough to have visited will know what I mean, and it’s totally understandable that whatever his lifestyle preferences, Ronaldinho made the right choice of Milan over Manchester.

Manchester or Milan?

Whilst away, only one little thing got to me, the sight of a small ginger haired boy wearing last season’s Liverpool shirt (the Meff) under the Tuscan sun. It got me thinking – how can a piece of polyester have such an effect on the eyes, the brain, the heart?

In his excellent book True Colours, author John Devlin goes to great lengths to dissect how a shirt design can be an extension of a club’s spirit and how a simple strip can express confidence, arrogance, strength and the like. I’ve never thought that, I just really like them and what they stand for.

Blue & White colours of Argentina will forever be synonymous with Maradona & Mexico '86'

When we were younger, Summer holidays seemed to last forever. As a teacher they seem to do the exact opposite but that’s a whole other article. However, I recall one of the highlights being our father taking me and my sister to Blackpool one day on the bus and the tradition was to buy us one toy each. In 1987, it was different, and I distinctly recall the pride of seeing the stallholder in Pricebusters (under the tower, in fact under the location of this story’s prologue too) bringing down the blue Everton shirt I had always wanted. My sister got some Barbie accessory I think, and for me (not her thankfully) it was the start of a long, expensive and at times embarrassing love affair.

Most of you will have a favourite football shirt, either of your own club or even a rival. Many will be favoured for the memories it evokes, some for the sheer aesthetic quality, the colours or the material, those with unusual senses of humour might also have funny anecdotes about said shirt – Man Utd changing at half time,  Celtic having numbers on the shorts only, things like that.

Numbers on shorts made famous by Glasgow Celtic in the 1950's & 60's

Most of the shirts I’ve had have been Everton admittedly, looking back some horrific designs (and memories) but still much loved because of what they represented.  Names and numbers are quite a recent innovation but can still help with identification – either of the shirt or with it. Days out are often punctuated or exacerbated by the spot the shirt competition, you’ll always get the Man Utd or Liverpool staples, but I still get excited by a proud youngster (or even better, whole family) wearing some obscure abomination from a small town club.

As we grew up, it became de rigeur to sport an unusual foreign shirt. All I want for Christmas isn’t necessarily a Dukla Prague away kit, but I have worn Russia, Barcelona, Parma, Holland, Chevas USA shirts in my life time, aswell as a few of those cheap imitation shirts sold on market stalls abroad (Czech Republic (no name), Italy (Toni), Inter (Materazzi), Real (Figo) amongst others) and it’s clear to see that football shirts have had a huge presence in my wardrobe.

As a teenager I even used to sit on a Friday night designing kits for different teams. I remember being envious of a fellow youngster who won a competition in match to design Melchester Rovers’ new strip, and marvelling at a contestant on You Bet who correctly identified twenty sections of shirts in the time limit. I once sent my designs to Umbro who very kindly returned them, annotated, with praise and genuine interest in my ideas. My dream job is no longer a reality, however every summer a personal highlight isn’t just the trip to Blackpool, but the scouring of websites and magazine adverts to see the new strip for any team.

This year, Preston have gone traditional which is nice to see (I forgot to mention I took my good lady to the pre-season friendly, some good youngsters coming through, shame about our fans though) and Wigan have made the strange decision to go with Champion, who as far as I know haven’t done a strip before. Carlisle will always be remembered for the deckchair kit, whilst Blackburn’s only interesting addition is a new sponsor, Crown Paints.  Which brings us back to the beginning, and Liverpool’s decision to go back in time with the grey strip of circa 1990, maybe they think it will offer a return to the glory days, even if Arsenal have also resurrected the 1989 away kit (Mickey Thomas… can he FFINNIIISSSHHH!!!!!!) 

 In terms of our new kit, in true Everton style the launch of the home kit was delayed (maybe this was the final nail in Wyness’s coffin) and is a nice if unspectacular combination. The away is white once again (amber must be due a return soon) but is a particularly smart design and, more importantly, goes with my new trainers. Said girlfriend who knew how much I was looking forward to its release, and duly bought it for me on our day out in Blackpool. Even if lots has been said about men in football shirts having no taste, regardless of the baldy’s comments or the sales assistant admitting that even though she was a Blue, this was the first she had sold so far, I was in love again. Now – when is the third shirt out?

Have a good season – may everything be beautiful and nothing hurt (including the shirts)

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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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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In a week which saw Stan ‘not the man’ Staunton surplus to requirements by the Republic, debates continue on whether or not they – or any other team – should go ‘foreign’ in their search for a new saviour; or remain stubbornly stagnant & continue to stick to their own. Judging by the current events at Man City & in light of my recent immigration to Ireland, I can certainly see the benefits of being an outsider, & the rewards in hiring a man who’s free from the shackles of an increasingly unappreciative crowd. As Irish pundits understandably focus on the negatives, from where I’m standing - if the FAI make the right choice – there is much reason for optimism.

Idealistically, an experienced & impassioned native would do nicely, but in reality O’Neil & Keane aside, there’s none capable of doing the job, as the Hiddink’s & Sven’s of this world continue to outperform our less tactically minded patrons, & goes some way to proving that keeping to what you know gets you absolutely nowhere.

Firstly, if we cast our minds back to the tail end of last season, Man City found themselves in a remarkably similar situation to the Irish. With fans feeling more despondent then ever before (that’s some depression by their standards) after witnessing a season of abominable horse shite, being led by the quintessential Englishman & arguably overly passionate - Stuart Pearce. Although ‘Psycho’ was an established international left-back, he’d had no real previous experience in management, did shockingly & was rightfully dismissed. Sound familiar?

He too received a handsome pay off.

It seems that a change in company policy proved just the tonic for City, & the detached stealth of Sven, albeit with the help of his Thai checkbook, is so far working perfectly. What I’m finding hard to fathom though, is what I discovered on my visit to Eastlands, on what proved an atypically sunny afternoon in Manchester. After pulling all the strings & pulverizing a Newcastle team distinctively lacking ideas & sophistication, an inspired Elano then blasted in a spectacular free kick from 30 yards. Derisive scoffs of “He’ll never make the winter(?)” from the bloke behind were followed by similar jibes by the City faithful, with their rendition of “Empty Seats…” aimed at those who were leaving early. I soon became aware (& respect to them) of the fact that no Geordie had budged, & ‘twas for the benefit of their own fans, whom - instead of basking in the glory – were leaving in their droves. This was The City of Manchester Stadium & this could only be City!

Despite yesterday’s harsh lesson at The Bridge, Sven won’t be feeling the pressure, neither the burden of responsibility that a Keegan-type might. Sven will coolly learn from this defeat & see where his side needs improving. In fairness, they look 3 players short of a side challenging for a place in the Champions League. But with more Thai money being made available in January – especially if Sven spends it as he did in the summer - subjects should stay seated for  what promises to be the most exciting season in the clubs Premier League history. Citizens should certainly be cherishing witnessing the finest football being played at City since the glory days of Mercer & Allison; & realise the enormity of what Sven & his team are currently achieving.

It makes me laugh when you consider who the FA chose to replace Sven, with a man supposedly their idea of a Lion-heart. No disrespect to Steve, but I’m sure ‘Psycho’ could’ve done better (& astonishingly he was a candidate), as I’ve met door-to-door salesmen who’ve possessed more genuine passion for their shitty tat they try to shift, than Steve – painfully dull - McClaren.

And so the search begins for the long suffering Irish. In the country boasting the birthplace of public lynching (In Galway, if rumours are to be believed) - whoever they choose - it’s important he receives a fair crack of the whip & the backing of the nation.

In my opinion, Ireland have to spend big (& they’re certainly not short of a few bob) & get the best manager available, which unfortunately means he shouldn’t be Irish. This may come as a blow to Eamonn Dunphy – who, like most of those morbid old bastards he sits beside on the RTE-Two - feels he’s in with a shout. Pissed wisdom one suspects, as ‘Dumphy’ couldn’t spot good football if it bit him on his wrinkly contentious arse.

As an Englishman now living in Ireland & a foreigner here for nearly 5 weeks, I’ve already started to realise this country’s vast wealth of beauty, beauty that only an outsider could possibly apprehend. Whilst being warned(flashed) by thoughtful onrushing motorists of Gardaí up ahead, being offered the tastiest triangular sarnies (known to man) during matches in my local pub, & being spoken to by passers by on the street may be commonplace in Ireland, from an outsider’s point of view this is something invigorating & unique. So too may it be difficult for natives to recognise the charm of being passed by a burly 30-something woman; power-walking her way to town, the sensuous smell of turf burning outside incredibly inviting boozers, or the majestic art of sleep-drinking – a skill I witnessed one man performing on my very first night out in Galway. And then there’s Barry’s Tea, Abrakebabra, Jonnies Onion Rings & Rock Shandy – all equally scrumptious & perfect examples of Ireland’s - say it like it is - approach to advertising.

Sometimes we all need an outside influence to remind us of what qualities we already possess, but cannot see. Someone who, as Mike Scott from The Waterboys once splendidly put it, see’s “The Whole of the Moon” and not merely the crescent. And the boon of recruiting a top foreign manager I feel can do exactly this.

Sven’s early success at City comes as no surprise to me, as his record in club management is as good as any one in European football. So fans of Manchester City should certainly be counting their blessings. And let us hope Ireland get their act together and appoint the right man; as lets face it, any tournament without them is a far duller one. If they can capture someone of similar stature & ability as Eriksson; someone who’s ice cold, cunning & (money?) driven, even if he does have a weakness for the ladies, then I’m sure they’ll be just fine. And I don’t mean a Catholic Priest, before anyone at the FAI gets any bright ideas.