Look Away Now At The Big Game

This week, Look Away Now has decided to focus its attention on one match in particular; namely Tottenham’s Saturday teatime visit to Manchester United, a fixture close to the hearts of your humble writers. It’s an intriguing clash – the recent top-four crashers pitting their wits against the most successful English club side of the past twenty years, but one which, if you believe the current swathe of popular opinion, is in a state of decline. With players like Bale, Berbatov, van der Vaart and Hernandez in thrilling form, and with the league positions of the two sides more closely aligned than any time in recent memory, we think this one could be a real mouth-waterer.

Have no fear, we’ll be doing our usual trick of predicting our way through all of the weekend’s Premier League encounters too, but for now it is to Old Trafford that we head…

Saturday 30^th October

Manchester United v Tottenham, 5:30pm

Questions. Not the kind of thing Manchester United are regularly charged with answering, but this season they’ve been on the receiving end of far more than usual. And they’ve not just been nice, easy-to-pad-away dot balls either – they’ve received some real bouncers (excuse me going all Clive Tyldesley, it’s just that I love a good cricketing metaphor). Is Ferguson finally losing the battle of player power? Has he got the necessary talent to replace the aging limbs of Scholes, Giggs and Neville? Are Manchester City about to go from ‘noisy neighbours’ to fully-fledged title rivals? Will Sir Alex hire Carlos Quieroz again?

The lingering issue of replacing the old-guard is a curious one. Over the past five or so years, a raft of young upstarts have found themselves on the fringes of the team – Welbeck, Bellion, Miller, Richardson, Obertan, Campbell – without ever truly establishing themselves in the first team reckoning. Of the current squad, many supporters argue that there’s simply too much dead wood (Carrick, Park, Evans: I’m looking at you), players with undoubted talent but who, for one reason or another, have failed to kick on and reach that sacred ‘next level’. Unfortunately for these supporters, the aforementioned old-timers won’t be able to hang on much longer and soon enough the feeding tube will have to be pulled.

In terms of their opening form, United find themselves in a confusingly contradictory position: undefeated in nine games for the first time since the autumn of 1999, but lying five points off the leaders and found guilty of throwing away late points with astonishing frequency, a situation which must perplex as much as infuriate the manager. The Wayne Rooney affair (I mean the contract-related one, of course), coupled with those ever-looming shadows of ownership and debt, has helped only to up the pressure even further. Having said all that, United have not exactly become a bad side, just one unable to slip out of second gear, and this is a fixture that has been kind to United throughout the Premier League era. But then the Tottenham of today are a different proposition entirely.

Most Tottenham fans will be heading up the M1 hoping to snatch a draw from a Manchester United side that many consider to be on a downward trajectory. The optimistic among the travellers will be coveting all three points and the first win in the Theatre of Dreams^TM in 18 games. The history books tell a sad story for Tottenham: only two draws to be had in all those visits to compensate for the hours spent gridlocked on the M6, the service station Ginsters pasties and 20p a piss toilet stops. This fixture has left most Spurs fans feeling like the layer of scraped-off stubble that clings to the basin after a shave – it’s all over now, no more face time, just wash me down the sink…

Could this be the year to change that, with a depleted United looking to establish themselves again as title contenders just as everyone has begun to dismiss them as old nags, only good for glue? Hernandez has released some of the mounting pressure with his flurry of goals, and will certainly be the danger man on Saturday as he is prepared to fling his body any which way at any loose ball in the box.

Van der Vaart, Bale and Lennon will be instructed to get at the United defenders from the start and it is key to Spurs chances that they don’t let United slip into a rhythm and dictate the play. It will be interesting to see who dominates in the centre of the pitch; United lack flair in Scholes’ absence, and should Huddlestone get a grip on the game his passing could be key to Spurs’ attacking endeavours.

United will need no reminding of the damage that Van der Vaart and Bale can cause given space and it will be up to them to close them down, get the ball to Nani and let him run at Tottenham’s revolving back four. The history books suggest a United win, while the form book hints that this might be tighter now than any time in the last decade.

Ed’s prediction: 2-3

Matt’s prediction: 2-1

* * * * *

And now for the rest. Our apologies if you feel a little left out by the focus on Old Trafford – but then we never claimed this blog would shy away from blatant partisanship. If it did, exactly what kind of football fans would that make us?

Saturday 30^th October

Arsenal 2 - 0 West Ham, 3pm

Blackburn 0 - 1 Chelsea, 3pm

Everton 2 - 0 Stoke, 3pm   

Fulham 1 - 1 Wigan, 3pm   

Wolves 1 - 2 Man City, 3pm

Sunday 31^st October

Aston Villa 2 - 1 Birmingham, 12pm

Newcastle 1 - 1 Sunderland, 1:30pm

Bolton 1 - 2 Liverpool, 4pm     

Monday 1^st November

Blackpool 3 - 4 West Brom, 8pm      

~ Ed & Matt

Hello, You Must Be New Here...

Arriving in the Premier League must be a scary prospect. Exciting, sure, but bloody scary nonetheless, a bit like your first day at school. Or starting a new job. Or falling in love. Or, considering I’ve not even remotely thought this through, completely unlike any of these. Having personally never been promoted to the top flight of English football, I’m almost certainly not in the strongest position to judge. But stepping into such a competition must bring shocks to the system – the prefects and teachers are bigger and mostly hairier, the margins for error are considerably tighter and the potential for heartbreak is higher than ever before.

And I guess this is where my mixed bag of metaphors falls apart and spills its tenuous contents across the floor like so much rancid bin water. For while there are many people in the world who succeed at school, at work and at love, those footballing outfits who have been promoted to the top flight and stayed there are a scarce breed indeed, certainly in the Premier League era. Of the twenty teams seated at this seasons’ top table, only seven have been continuously stuffing their faces on BSkyB’s gluttonous bounty since it all began back in good old 1992. To this end, the state of the table as we enter the season’s second quarter makes for strange viewing. Check out that relegation zone! Look at the new guys struggling! Only they’re not, and what’s more you need to cast your eyes up to 14^th place before you find a pair of ears with even a hint of wetness behind them.

Of this year's new intake, Blackpool have made the biggest waves. From their opening day shoeing of Wigan to the shock humbling of Liverpool, they’ve been the talk of the town (although having a rent-a-quote manager like Ian Holloway hasn’t exactly helped keep their profile low). West Brom, meanwhile, have gone about their task quietly but with no little style; their usual brand of tight football complemented with a sturdier backbone than evidenced during previous top-flight campaigns. Newcastle are the curio of the three; the early 6-0 trouncing of a Villa side in then-managerial limbo represents three-quarters of their meagre four point home haul thus far. Away from St James', however, it’s been a different story – victories at Everton and West Ham (as well as Stamford Bridge in the League Cup) have eased them into the highly respectable position of ninth.

In fact together these three sides represent a neat cross section of the type of teams regularly found entering the Premier League fray. Newcastle are the fallen giant rising to its feet again, specifically one who will always have a place in Premier League history thanks to the exploits of Robson, Keegan, Shearer and Venison. The Baggies, meanwhile, are the epitome of the ‘yo-yo club’, hop-scotching between the first and second tiers of the professional game. And then there’s Blackpool, the loveable, beating heart of a cockle-warming rags-to-riches narrative. And we all like one of those.

Like Newcastle (and in stark contrast to Anton Ferdinand), Blackpool have excelled on the road – three wins from six in fact, contrasting with just a solitary point earned on their own turf. Received wisdom states that newly promoted sides should turn their homes into fortresses while simply getting what they can on their travels. Yet whilst Ian Holloway erecting battlements and digging a moat around Bloomfield Road is an immensely satisfying (and not necessarily all that far-fetched) mental image, the opening two months have brought about a subversion of the norm in this respect, not least when you consider West Brom are the only team to walk away from Old Trafford with so much as a point in hand.

So why so handy on the road? Perhaps the expectation of stepping up a level in front of one's home crowd, and the nationwide media coverage it entails, has caused our new boys to freeze, only to thaw on their travels when most observers expect them to receive their fortnightly hiding. But form, like the unobtainable temptress, is a fickle beauty, and fixture lists are of course prone to throw up early-season anomalies. In which case, is there some deeper-routed explanation or two for these impressive first few furlongs?

Each team boasts a not-necessarily-young but equally hungry manager. Erstwhile coach and occasional caretaker Chris Hughton is thoughtful and reserved, meticulously and methodically circumnavigating Newcastle’s traditional route of bluster and heartache now that he's finally made the transition from band-member to front-man; a sort of Dave Grohl in management terms. Holloway certainly likes to bring the crazy, playing the put upon underdog with the exasperated face of a man pushing at an ocean, but it's fair to say that each of the Football League clubs he’s led has been the recipient of not just his home-spun sound-bites but also a refreshing brand of lateral thinking. And while it would undoubtedly be a turgid cliché to say Roberto Di Matteo brings a dash of continental flavouring to the party, there does seem to be a good mixture of sensible and saucy on the menu at the Hawthorns these days. With a playing career cut short by injury, those perched behind the home dugout must be able to almost taste his desire to succeed from the touchline.

On a broader scale, maybe some of the fear is evaporating. Last season Birmingham, Wolves and Burnley all donned their smartest casuals and strolled in bold as brass, with only the latter sent packing by the bouncers. Or perhaps, conversely, it's the problems of those around them. West Ham and Wigan, for example, are established sides in a deep malaise, situations offering not just hope but actual, tangible, look-it-up-on-Ceefax league positions to our newbies. Or maybe it's just, as usual, about the money. As the rich somehow manage to get richer and simultaneously further into the red (depending on which page of a club's finance report you read), does the current flurry of belt tightening and bottom line-scrutinising play into the hands of the have-nots?

When it comes to the bottom half of the table, you could posit our prudent times have let those slipping in the door believe they have as good a chance as anyone. Is the demand on established sides to invest, succeed and live up to the Premier League lifestyle – the lure, the lucre, the razzle and the dazzle – weighing too heavy on the old guard's shoulders? Where the promoted sides are concerned, with less expectation to succeed, so sure are the neutrals and the bookmakers of the impending doom of instant relegation, we might be witnessing a new willingness to simply go for broke. Money and pressure, or the lack of it, do strange things to the best of us.

~ Matt

The Look Away Now Poetic Prediction Corner

If we’ve learnt anything from the week just gone, it’s that football ain’t nothing like predictable. Show us a person on Monday morning claiming Paul Stretf… sorry, Wayne Rooney, would be walking out on Manchester United and into the lustful arms of a 200k-per-second deal with Man City three days later, and we’d have shown you a certified maniac. Or a genuine savant, in which case get your hands off, he’s ours.

We’d be even more possessive of them if they’d managed to call today’s drama too, as Mr Rooney decided to have a proper look at the cows in the other fields, take a sup of their milk and flip City the bird. Not quite sure what that means? Us neither. But the end result is that England’s handsome young prince is staying put… for the time being at least. We’ve been reminded this afternoon that Cristiano Ronaldo signed a fresh, sparkly new deal at Old Trafford two years prior to shimmying his way to the Bernabéu, allowing United to eventually claim back top dollar on their investment. Has the cloud of smoke and bullshit really dissipated or just become hidden behind a few rays of October sunshine?

Let’s be honest, there’s been plenty of grubby goings-on this week: the Rooney shenanigans aside, we’ve seen some depressing cash-for-votes nonsense in the FIFA hierarchy and the usual smattering of arrests and related sordid rumour. And we haven’t even mentioned Gazza. Until now. With these grim thoughts in mind, isn’t it time someone returned a bit of class and light-heartedness to this fair sport of ours?

If you weren’t sure, the answer you’re straining for is ‘yes’. So this week, in the name of art/wilful tomfoolery, we’ve taken the brave and potentially hideously off-putting step of bringing you the weekend’s top flight predictions in the form of haiku. Yes, we understand the hazards of brazenly arranging a marriage of base football mutterings and high-concept wordplay, but this is our blog and we’ll make the executive decision to endanger its longevity if we want to.

So, without further ado, in the spirit of faux-mysticism and irregular rhyme schemes, and with more left-field verve than a Gareth Bale counter-attack, let’s make like Karl Henry and dive straight in…

Saturday, 23rd October

Tottenham v Everton, 12:45pm

Never one to bore

Hot Spurs chew on tough Toffees

Wise money on draw.

1-1

Birmingham v Blackpool, 3pm

Nice start, unlike Brum

‘pool away run to succumb

To Zigic, ho-hum.

2-1

Chealsea v Wolves, 3pm

Lupine assault fails

As toothless Wolves draw no blood

Chelsea score plus four.

5-0

Sunderland v Aston Villa, 3pm

Nothing to see here

Honestly, do not bother

Who’s next? West Brom? Great…

0-0

West Brom v Fulham, 3pm

What has Escher got

In common with Welshman Hughes?

Both know how to draw.

1-1

Wigan v Bolton, 3pm

Glamour clash it ain’t

But Wigan to suffer from

Coyle and trouble.

1-2

West Ham v Newcastle, 5:30pm

Blowing bubbles up

Hodgson’s arse. Look out Andy,

Your motor’s on fire.

1-1

Sunday, 24th October

Stoke v Man Utd, 1:30pm

Super Sunday? No

Just long throws and stoppage time

Death to Paul Stretford

1-2

Liverpool v Blackburn, 3pm

Not walking alone

They’ve West Ham for company

Sam for Kop? Dream on.

1-0

Man City v Arsenal, 4pm

De Jong smells young blood,

We watch mathletic passing

Hitting big brick wall

0-0

~ Ed & Matt

The Wayning

He sat there on the edge of the bed in his y-fronts and socks, looking out at the pale moon.

‘Don’t worry about it dear.’

He didn’t turn around, didn’t look at her.

‘These things happen.’

‘It’s never happened to me before,’ he sniffled.

She shuffled across the bed and placed her hand on his.

‘Alex, you should have known that time he sent me that text, you can’t trust him. Don’t worry, Bebe.’

***

End of an era? When you consider the loss of Scholes, Giggs, Ferdinand and now Rooney, all in the next year and half, it’s undeniable. It will be the end of an era. The question is can Ferguson rebuild the team after this crop of talent depart? The players required are out there, playing for Aston Villa, Spurs and Everton, but can United afford them? It has been suggested that, should Rooney leave, the Glazers will have to invest in a major player to keep revenues coming into the club at their current rate. This has to be the case: should they not invest, the club’s value will depreciate and they will in effect be in negative equity, paying off the vast loan they took out for a club worth less than they paid for it. Purely on business terms they will reinvest, but will it be enough money to fully restock the club?

Concerns have arisen that the necessary long-term planning would see Ferguson thinking well beyond his own retirement, and that he might not have the energy to oversee this kind of change again. Much of what has been uttered about United’s fate in the last few days’ press has been brewing for the last year; the Rooney revelation has merely lit the touch paper.

There is something of more universal concern reverberating beneath all this for all Premier League lovers. Another star may be tempted to move across the channel, in the footballing equivalent of continental drift, southwards to warmer climes, lower taxes and the increasingly star-studded squads of the Spanish Two. Are we seeing a tectonic shift in the make-up and influence of a Premier League that could conceivably lose Fabregas, Rooney and Torres by the summer?

~ Ed

Uncle Roy Is Doing Battle With The Past, Present And Future

Eighteen months ago, Rafa Benitez’s Liverpool side were sitting pretty at the top of the Premier League tree, glittering and happy like a novelty Christmas fairy, apparently set to mount their first serious title charge in years. The preceding decade or so had spawned a couple of near misses under Roy Evans and Gerard Houllier, but it seemed different this time – there was consistency, some stirring individual performances, they were leading from the front and Harry Kewell was long gone. What could possibly go wrong? Well as we know, Señor Benitez subsequently tried to out-mind game the mind game master and things sort of fell apart from there on in. Still, even with a 7^th place finish costing Rafa his job in the summer, not even the resident mystics at Psychic TV could have foreseen that, come October, we’d be scrabbling for the thesaurus to express just how scandalously inept Liverpool have subsequently become.

Sunday’s gutless surrender at Goodison Park of all places heralded the first bout of sustained calls for Roy Hodgson’s head, the goodwill credit earned during his heady stretch at Fulham apparently already splurged. It’s a shame really, as Uncle Roy has always been a man out of step with managerial trends, as coaching spells in such diverse footballing backwaters as Neuchâtel, Stavanger, Örebro and Maidstone would testify to. As such, the thought of him successfully surfing the rough tide of upheaval at Liverpool is a comforting one, but one which, alas, seems ever more unlikely to materialise.

We here at Look Away Now have always been big admirers of Mr Hodgson, favouring his candidature for the England post back when Kevin Keegan was ludicrously given the gig, and felt that his disappointing spell in charge of Sunday’s opponents Blackburn (where he left them mired in the relegation zone after taking them into Europe the previous year) stood out as a mere anomaly on an otherwise spotless managerial CV. Yet examining his Premier League career in isolation makes for surprisingly dicey reading. The aforementioned highs and lows of his Blackburn tenure looked to have been offset by some genuinely wonderful over-achievement at Fulham, and yet now he finds himself coaxing mostly dire performances out of a decidedly average Liverpool team who, as each passing match concludes, leave us wondering if Benitez was actually getting far more blood than he had any right to from a particularly middling stone.

It would of course be a mistake to excuse Benitez from his share of criticism for Liverpool's current plight. During his Anfield stay he achieved some rightfully lauded (and even arguably under-appreciated) success – a first European Cup in twenty years and a further final to boot being the stand-outs, coupled with an FA Cup victory in 2006 and the aforementioned, albeit ultimately unfulfilled, tilt at the league two years ago. The problem is his legacy, the feeling that under his tutelage Anfield became too reliant on bog-standard imports at the expense of nurturing a side with at least half an eye on the future. Perfectly good players such as Craig Bellamy, Peter Crouch and Robbie Keane were jettisoned almost as soon as they joined after not adapting immediately to the quirks and peculiarities of Benitez's tactical vision. In fairness, it was a vision which, when executed correctly, worked, but for another to come in and pick up the pieces without major investment was always going to be a tough ask. Rafa's teams were dry and rigid. No wonder he's found a job in Italy.

Not to say quality players weren't brought in. Pepe Reina was recruited a rough diamond and gradually polished to a shine. Fernando Torres and Javier Mascherano’s recruitments led one to believe that the foundations of a consistently honour-challenging side were at last being laid. But never one to leave alone what ain't broke, players of enduring quality such as Xabi Alonso and John Arne Riise were inexplicably shipped in and out seemingly at random, like a desperate city banker with dollar-sign eyes frantically trading shares with anyone who’ll hold his despairing gaze. Others either never managed to justify their selection or simply trod (and in some cases continue to tread) water. A handful remain merely perplexing. Antonio Nunez anyone?

So what's next? Judging by the ever-reliable phenomena that is the Sky Sports News post-match vox pop, Kenny Dalglish should be handed the managerial reins post-haste, a move to no doubt spark some kind of mini nostalgia trip as he immediately brings in David Burrows and Steve Harkness to sure things up at the back. It remains to be seen just how much fiscal clout new owner John W Henry will bring to the club and how much time he'll give Hodgson to try and turn things around. I hope he gets Liverpool back up to speed – from a purely selfish perspective he's still a contender to replace Fabio Capello after the inevitable disappointment of Euro 2012. If it's not to be Uncle Roy, I guess there's always Big Sam. For Liverpool or England; he's not fussy.

~ Matt

If You Don’t Want To Know This Weekend’s Football Results…

…yeah, we’ll let you finish that particular gag yourselves. Welcome back to our hopefully regular run-down of the weekend’s top flight action. Now that the cold chill of the international break has thawed, we can get back the important business of watching our under-performing England stars strut their stuff on the club stage. Thanks guys!

Saturday 16th October

Arsenal v Birmingham, 3pm

Frustration, thy name is Arsenal. So easy on the eye, so infuriating on the heart, Arsenal’s recent seasons are taking on a Groundhog Day feel: a decent start embellished with some sumptuous football, inevitably undermined before long by injuries to key players and a failure to match up to their key rivals when met head-on. In fact, one could even say these opening seven matches have been a recent Arsenal season in microcosm.

Birmingham’s start, meanwhile, has been underwhelming – are they suffering from classic second-season syndrome, the kind which has accounted for Reading, Hull, and others over the years? Arsenal let themselves down spectacularly against West Brom, but Brum simply aren’t in form and slapping your wages on anything but a home win would paint you a braver person than either of us. 2-1

Bolton v Stoke, 3pm

Owen Coyle is deftly guiding Bolton into new waters; less about studs in shins, more about neat passing triangles and England call-ups. Sure international newbie Kevin Davis can still be counted on to push his elbow into the throats of on-rushing defenders, but there is a guile about their play now that Stoke could take note from.  Having said that, Stoke will make this a physical encounter and Bolton are certainly not backwards about coming forwards if someone offers them outside. We expect Matt Taylor to push his gnarled and tattooed torso through the Stoke masses and score a blinder, or for Elmander to continue his neat run of goals. 1-0

Fulham v Tottenham, 3pm

Unbeaten in the league, Mark Hughes has carried his preternatural ability to carve out draw after tedious draw from his tenure at Man City to his new role at Craven Cottage. The Fulham rear guard will have to try to contain Van der Vaart who has no reason to hold back, seeing as he is suspended for the mid-week Inter clash. Spurs should have at least couple of their crocked defenders back on Saturday as both Kaboul and Gallas trained this week. Should the Tottenham that fizz with exuberance turn up, Fulham will do well to eke out a(nother) draw, however the spectre of recent lacklustre league performances still looms large over Tottenham and Fulham will feed off this for encouragement. 1-2

Man Utd v West Brom, 3pm

Story of United’s season so far: home you win, away you draw. Simple? Hardly. Sir Alex will surely be frustrated with various aspects of United’s start – Valencia’s nasty crock, some truly amateur defending, Mr Rooney’s spectacular fall from both public and footballing grace. The form of Messrs Berbatov and Scholes have been the bright sparks in a season which, as yet, has failed to properly ignite. A note of optimism for supporters – the last time United went unbeaten for their first seven league games was ten years ago. A note of pessimism – they lost the eighth.

In almost blinding contrast, West Brom have hit the ground running as Roberto Di Matteo at last adds some steel to the Baggies always pretty footwork. They’ll be hoping Rooney continues to struggle with his phantom “ankle injury”, although you’d have to think that even with a sub-par leading man, United will have enough in reserve to put this game to bed. 3-1

Newcastle v Wigan, 3pm

Ah, now here is the type of clash which was bread and butter for Newcastle last year.  Wigan, shorn of former (sort of) Toon-idle Titus Bramble, have had trouble keeping the ball out the onion bag and Newcastle, in front of a baying home crowd, will look to put them under pressure. While Ben Arfa’s loss is a blow it seems fair to say that he was hardly a long standing member of their squad and while their form at St James’ has been laughable thus far (Villa thrashing aside) they should be able to cope. 3-1

Wolves v West Ham, 3pm

Kick McCarthy (as he will never be known) will no doubt have his team fired up for this early season six-pointer, although perhaps he’ll surprise us all by displaying the neat passing game on show at times last season. West Ham have displayed a certain resolve of late to rectify their woeful start to the campaign.  Piquionne has given them a real threat up front, Scott Parker is strutting around midfield like the King of East London and a return to some semblance of form for Rob Green means that they are no longer the league whipping boys. 1-2

Aston Villa v Chelsea, 5:30pm

Gerard Houllier showed against Tottenham that he has no intention of locking up shop and playing the long ball. Richard Dunne’s return in defence is a major boost for Villa as they’ve clearly missed his Terry-esque, in-the-line-of-fire brand of defending. 

Meanwhile up front, John Carew, much like mouse-squeezing man-child Lenny from ‘Of Mice and Men’, has been displaying a worrying lack of intelligence of late, and we’re not just talking about his penalty taking.  If Heskey is fit and can continue to use his bulk to pull defenders out of position and make space of the on rushing Ashley Young Chelsea may have a few problems. But probably not enough – Dunne’s return may well be countered by Drogba’s blistering form and overall we think that this battle of the powerful will go to the champions. 1-2

Sunday 17th October

Everton v Liverpool, 1:30pm

Shambles doesn’t really begin to cover it. After the most arduous, nerve-shredding of weeks, the financial tug-of-war between Liverpool’s owners and owners elect appears to almost be at an end. Having lived through this week, we’re not exactly holding our breath though. Things are not exactly rosy on field for either club really, with both sitting a long way off of European places, even at this early stage. As the cliché goes, form books are traditionally thrown casually over one’s shoulder where derbies are concerned, but you just can’t forget how woeful Liverpool have been. At best Torres will be half fit, Kuyt is out and Gerrard can’t do it all himself.

Everton’s first win of the campaign at Brum eased the pressure a little but doubts must remain as to whether David Moyes feels he’s approaching a glass ceiling. Victory for either will come as a welcome relief; defeat would simply pile on the misery. In short: massive game. 2-1

Blackpool v Man City, 4pm

Just under two weeks ago, Blackpool’s victory at Anfield sent jaws around Europe hurtling towards the floor. Of course, the ever-lovable Ian Holloway and his merry band of free transfers and journeymen won’t face a team in such crisis every week, and a repeat performance against one of the league’s form sides may be too much to ask for. But broadly speaking, could Blackpool really be in with a shout of survival?

For all the criticisms aimed their way over recent months – too many squabbling star names, too defensive a game plan, the question of Roberto Mancini’s long-term future – City go into the weekend sitting in second place, four points behind the current champions and one ahead of their bitterest rivals. It’s worth noting that very little, if any, of this negativity is stemming from their own crowd; rather, it’s the (dare we say, jealous?) onlookers having a pop. City must be loving every minute of it. 0-2

Monday 18th October

Blackburn v Sunderland, 8pm

Sunderland have shone against the big boys in recent seasons, regularly removing points from the hands of the elite. But it is fixtures like this lip-smacker in which they’ve struggled, and to my eyes Steve Bruce appears no closer to finding consistency than he was this time last year. With Darren Bent struggling for fitness, they may also be without their one true game-changing weapon. Blackburn meanwhile, have a home record to envy and despite poor little Danny Murphy’s protestations, the big man knows how to set up a team to win. Which is exactly what they will do on Monday night. 1-0

~ Ed & Matt

Liverpool Continue To Hold Court… And I’m Thoroughly Engrossed

I’ll be honest with you, I’m hooked. It’s got everything, hasn’t it? Evil business types, a passionate set of put-upon innocents, shady, faceless corporations and hedge funds, and a sense of foreboding like a sky before a storm. The legal proceedings surrounding the potential and protracted Liverpool takeover saga that have overshadowed this past international week have taken on the guise of a Hollywood epic, albeit one commanding up-to-the-minute, blow-by-blow Tweets and texts contributed by reporters, legal eagles and jobbing members of the public alike. The Guardian has been running a live coverage page since Tuesday, encouraging regular readers and rubberneckers alike to share their thoughts and watch on as Tom Hicks and George Gillett seek to use every dastardly trick in the book to cling onto their doomed ownership of Liverpool FC by the fingertips.

I’m as surprised as anyone by the media saturation brought about by recent events. I think of financial-based court cases, and I imagine a series of rather dry to-ings and fro-ings between people in costume-drama get-up; strange cape-like garments and bizarre Little Lord Fauntleroy wigs. Instead, I’ve found myself glued to these updates in a manner previously reserved for transfer deadline days such as these. Yesterday evening, as the 5pm ruling from the presiding Mr Justice Floyd crept ever closer, I became almost physically unable to drag myself away from my desk, frantically refreshing my screen despite being set to meet a friend straight from the office. I was on time, as it turns out, but my thoughts never drifted far from the Siren call of the refresh button.

There’s a proper cast of characters involved here: Hicks and Gillett are firmly cast in the duel-roles of the Evil Overlords, bleeding the little man dry for a quick penny and not caring a jot who they hurt in the process. Then there are the heroes – Broughton, Purslow and Ayers, or the ‘Liverpool Three’ as they’ve become known, although this does make them sound less like crusaders for good and more like a bunch of men falsely imprisoned on nationalist terror charges. Meanwhile, the QCs bring a welcome air of gravitas, while tossing out soundbites such as “grotesque parody” toward the American ne’er-do-wells. As day one drew to a close, the writers fed us a fresh twist – a Texan court thrown into the mix with SPECTRE-like ominousness, pulling metaphorical levers from afar and possibly siphoning nuclear missiles from a rogue former Eastern Bloc state, although that’s pure speculation on my part.

While we await further and hopefully final developments, it’s worth considering just how the coverage of this case reflects our growing need to know about, well, anything really. This kind of interactive media peepshow has become the norm not just in football, or indeed sport as whole, but in so many other areas of everyday life too. Prime Minister’s Questions now claims its own page on the Beeb, just so we don’t miss a second of the nation’s weekly dose of well-educated put-downs and backbench rah-rahing. As the world gets smaller, so we need (or are at least told we need) instant knowledge of the details of things we previously thought of as, if not incidental, then at best beyond our understanding or desire. Perhaps this means that we are becoming better educated in the ways of the world – knowledge is power, after all.

As we contemplate Liverpool’s next steps, let’s not forget Dundee, placed into administration this week and now facing a perilous race against time for survival. There are many clubs across the country, professional and otherwise, staring down similarly grim futures and while Liverpool may not now face the daunting prospects of point deduction and asset-stripping, it’s easy to forget that it’s not always about the big boys and their big bucks.

As it stands, NESV are still pending the go ahead to sign off on their deal, rendering the future of Liverpool still very much up in the air. I feel for their supporters – they are a proud club of rich tradition and I don’t think anyone that loves football wants to see them go to the wall. Still, it’s been entertaining hasn’t it?

~ Matt

Kop Rot

Much has been made of Liverpool’s situation.  Ink has been wasted going over figures, journalists and media commentators trying to forensically pick over the scene just so the average fan can understand what has gone wrong; ‘leveraged buyout’ has joined metatarsal in the lexicon of 21^st century football terms.  There is no need for economic virtuosity, no place for xenophobia in the explanation of their plight; what has happened, in the heartland of socialist England, is the free market has done a number over one of its prized positions.  Two slavereringly greedy men thought they spotted a way to make swathes of money and instead they have made a huge loss.  Such is business.  Should the looming clash with Everton arrive without the present situation having been resolved Liverpool could line up against their arch rivals propping up the table on -3 points.  Whatever has been written about the boardroom drama, the rot is evident in far more than just the accounts.

Benitez must shoulder far more of the blame than is currently being levelled at him.  He has cut and run; Liverpool fans can’t.  They are stuck with a squad that was never stocked for lean times.  Benitez had an infamous disregard for youth and in his time at the club managed to blood not one young upstart.  N'Gog is probably the youngest acquisition bought at the age of 19 and he, like Babel, has struggled to make any impact bar a clutch of goals in Europe’s backwaters earlier this season.  Where is the young buck pushing through to put Carragher out to pasture?  At Goodison Park on the 17^th Liverpool will be faced with the proof that the city had a deep talent pool, and they might rue the years they have neglected it.  Jay Spearing is the only player I can call to memory who has stepped out for Liverpool’s red half having played for their academy side.  He is 21.  No spring chicken and has been farmed out on loan having been deemed incapable of playing any role in lifting the senior players out of this slump.  Any close analysis of the situation could draw conclusions that, just as the current owners have let the side down, Benitez has left the squad hollowed out and overdependent on major stars who are prime pickings for the circling vultures of Europe’s Elite clubs.

At a time when Manchester City have announced huge spending pledges on youth development to wean themselves off the heady delights of buying Galacticos, whose signatures mainline a shot of pure excitement right into the glory gland of fans, the economic merits of this strategy are enticing.  Nurturing young talent is not, as Wenger will testify, the easy route to success.  Arsenal have seen off their own years of frugality by focusing on the fruits of the home counties and as Jack Wilshere prepares to lace his boots  alongside Steven Gerrard for England on Tuesday night, it is a policy that is finally gleaning results.  Even Chelsea have begun to plan for life after Lampard, Josh McEachran among a select few being given the minutes to develop alongside the likes of Essien and Malouda. 

The rot at Liverpool pervades the entire establishment.  From Steven Gerrard’s inability to carry the team, to the broken promises regarding the Stanley Park stadium; from Torres’ frayed and faltering physique, to the fans’ lamentable YouTube video comparing the management of the club, among other things, to the rape of one’s family over a very long period.  The club need to understand they are not entitled to a place at the top table of football.   History is littered with the tales of Empires crumbling, undermined by overdependence on past glories to underpin the foundations.   What are we witnessing here?  Will Hicks drag the club down with him?  Will the Premier League impose a points ban on one of the ‘Sky Four’?  None of us can be certain, but this is not a problem money alone can fix. 

~ Ed

Frankly, Mr Shankly, It All Sounds Like Politics To Me

Over the course of my football-watching lifetime, politics and the beautiful game have usually only ever crossed swords in times of crisis. Stadium disaster? Supporters rioting? All of a sudden football is thrown blinking into the public glare, scrutinised and condemned as ministers and public figures weigh in with, often unwanted, opinion. That's not to say that such horrid events don't warrant top level scrutiny – they do and quite rightly always will; a vastly profitable commodity, now the possession of the young and the old, the rich and the poor, football must of course be taken to task when matters of health, safety and, in the most dire of circumstances, mortality rear their ugly heads. Much good has come from these clashes – football hauled itself out of the dark ages thanks in part to clean, accessible all-seater stadiums, better policing and an intolerance towards the blood-chilling racism pre-eminent in grounds across the country during the 70s and 80s.

So can we see a pattern forming? The twin planets of football and politics almost inevitably collide only when the former's image is face down in the mud. To read this week that Brazilian legends Romario and Bebeto have become fully paid-up politicians in their home nation caused my mind to spill forth a heady broth of emotional responses, including (but not limited to) surprise, delight and a sizeable pinch of “how bloody weird is that?”

The 1994 World Cup medal-clutchers have been elected to the legislatures of Brazil and Rio respectively as members of the Brazilian Socialist Party (PSB). There's a sentence you probably didn't think you'd ever read, and yet a quick Google informs me that socialism and football, quite logically, are by no means virgin bedfellows. Brian Clough famously worked the miner's strike picket lines while Bill Shankly believed that socialism's key principle of “everybody working for the same goal” should naturally translate from the revolutionary text to the tactics board. More recently, Tottenham net-botherer Roman Pavlyuchenko took a seat as a city council deputy in his home town of Stavropol, Russia, with a personal remit to provide a “concrete contribution to the development possibilities for exercise and sport”.

For most readers of this blog (i.e. all three of you) and to my own largely untrained eyes, the marriage of high office and the football pitch comes across as an strange pairing, the permeating cultural whiff being that political activity and playing football represent a vast chasm between so-called 'high' and 'low' pursuits. But should it really be that way? Growing up in an era where footballers of Championship ranking or above are held aloft to the level of rock star or Hollywood A-lister, to see a top-flight footballer run for office would surely lead to eyebrow-raising akin to that witnessed during Arnold Schwarzenegger's pursuit of the governorship of California. “That's mad, he can't do that... he's the Terminator!" translates as “Shadow Minister for Agriculture? Don't be ridiculous, he plays centre-half for Villa!"

Perhaps my own shock at learning of the Brazilian's fledgling political careers stems not so much from the promotion-of-footballer-to-deity idea, but rather a confusion of involuntarily ingrained cultural viewpoints, and the feeling that to be involved successfully in British politics today requires a certain degree of privilege and class cache. Lest we forget, the leaders of all three major political powers in England boast 40-something Oxbridge graduates as their leaders, blurring the basic conceptual line drawn in the casual observer's mind between socialist, communist, fascist, an so on. Yet maybe in Brazil, while politics, as here, may still be viewed as corrupt and desensitised to the needs of the ordinary, Romario and Bebeto are lauded for their local-lads-made-good aura not just on the pitch, but with a pervading sense of community pride on a broader scale, something which perhaps fades to jealousy on these shores.

In Britain, we witness footballers plucked from working class backgrounds and becoming multi-millionaires overnight. Yet despite the wealth and profile, I can't shake the feeling that being seen as "just a footballer" prohibits having your political ambitions taken seriously in this country. If true, does this not then equal a perverse double-standard toward those we hold in high esteem? You can be one thing but not another is a repugnant stench given off by British society, knowing your place being more respectable that pursuing personal betterment. They say a person should never abandon one's roots, but then if nobody ever strayed from theirs, would we not be forever lying on the ground? 

All of which has led me down a somewhat psychedelically-tinged pathway of the imagination over the past few days, as I try to mentally conjure a world where members of once great strike partnerships throw down their boots and head for the town hall in the name of civic duty. It's a brave new world the kind of which we're never really likely to see, a universe where Andy “Andrew” Cole walks the streets of Cheshire in the howling winter rain, campaigning door-to-door for better pay and conditions for local postal workers. Elsewhere, Chris Sutton rises phoenix-like from humble Suffolk County Councillor to Shadow Transport Minister, the voting public apparently ironically forgiving of his hitherto lack of mobility.

To my (admittedly somewhat warped) mind, the world would be a better place if football and politics learnt to love one another, for they may discover that each has more in common than previously assumed. Indeed, Joe Cole's positional sense reads like a concise summery of thirteen years of New Labour – they may start on the left but leave them untethered and in no time at all they'll inexorably drift towards the centre.

So I say let's encourage our super and not-so-super stars to seek out the office of the land and lend a hand to the little man. If I inspire a nation-wide cultural revolution with these thousand or so words, then I'll have made my own small contribution. And if not, then you've probably just wasted five minutes of your life. Now get back to work – you'd never have caught Shankly slacking off like this.

~ Matt

The Official Look Away Now Weekend Predictions

As the mechanical grind that is the working week draws to a halt, Look Away Now, being the generous nobodies we are, has decided to play soothsayer for the afternoon and lay out before you in glorious monochrome our decidedly unscientific predictions for this weekend’s top flight action. Here is what almost certainly won’t happen… 

Saturday

Wigan v Wolves

Lunch-time kick-offs? They’re what we get out of bed on a Saturday for. On second glance, maybe a lie-in tomorrow would be a good idea. We can’t see Wigan shipping another barrel-load at the DW, but Wolves are tough and tidy. Side note: if you are attending this game, could you drop a pin please? We’d like to check if we can hear it on Match Of The Day. 1-2

Birmingham v Everton

Everton's dismal early season run must come to an end sometime soon, right? An unexpected win at Brum could make David Moyes' eyes pop right out of his head. More so. But it’s not going to happen tomorrow, and with Brum having not lost at home in over a year (we think this is true) we may be in for a stalemate. 0-0

  

Stoke v Blackburn

Those lucky so-and-so's living outside the UK receiving live coverage of 3pm kick-offs get to sample the flair and tactical nous which makes the Premier League the envy of the world. Unfortunately for them the Chelsea game is on Sunday. Meanwhile, away from Sam Allardyce's bizarre fantasy-addled dream world we find the somewhat more prosaic matter of a trip to Stoke. But will avoiding defeat be enough to land the big man a plumb job in Serie A? This blog says... no. 1-1

Sunderland v Manchester United

This one’s easy: Darren Bent will score, someone will run Lee Cattermole an early bath, Old Lady Bruce will have a moan about the referee and Nani will score one, set one up and spend the remainder of the game rolling around and looking earnestly at the officials. 1-2

Tottenham v Aston Villa

Someone buy those boys some Alka-Seltzer. Can Spurs shrug off Big Cup hangover? Can Heskey blunder his way to another goal? If he does we'll be outside the Lane armed with loaves and fishes promising everyone a hearty meal.  2-1

West Brom v Bolton

Tricky little one, this. We reckon West Brom will continue to enjoy their early-season party for a little while longer before the inevitable slump occurs as winter’s grim chill sets in. Gave up on the party metaphor pretty quickly there, didn’t we? 3-2

West Ham v Fulham

Everybody loves Avram. He’s finally managed to massage a victory out of his rag-tag West Ham side, although Fulham are unbeaten. They are also pretty much strikerless but Look Away Now thinks Scott Parker will rally the troops and if Robert Green repeats his display against Spurs they are in with a fighting chance.  1-0

Sunday

Man City v Newcastle

It’ll be nice to have the new, mature, clean-shaven Joey Barton back at City for a few hours, won’t it? He’ll get plenty of treatment, but that’ll be the least of his worries as City cruise home. Token Andy Carroll header for the visitors. 3-1

Liverpool v Blackpool

A scrappy affair this, as Liverpool continue to stagger about the place like a pub drunk, weeping into his beard and recounting the days when the ladies swooned and his crotch wasn't rotten. Was it all a dream? No, Liverpool, you were once good. We've got the tapes. 2-0

Chelsea v Arsenal

Oh just mark Drogba, for goodness’ sake. 1-1


~ Ed & Matt

Spurs Spear Twente

It seems, much like railway lines' relationship with leaves, White Hart Lane was not designed to withstand all autumn has to throw at it.  In this instance it was wet membership cards which derailed supporters' efforts to get through the turnstiles and led thousands to miss Spurs walk out to that music for the first time in the Champions League proper.  What an injustice - a phrase that for some would come to encapsulate the evening's play.

As the clouds over London spilled greasy rain onto the turf at the Lane - washing all memories of sun burnt knees and picnics snatched at on Blighty’s beaches with mums and dads, brothers and sisters huddled behind wind-breakers - 30,000 Spurs fans and 2,000 Twente hunkered down to watch a key match in Group A.  With a point at home to Inter already stashed away, Twente viewed a win at Spurs as a firm step in the direction of the last 16.  Anything other than a win for Spurs would have punched a severe hole in the hull of their ‘til now buoyant Big Cup boat.

It was a gladiatorial contest, not in magnitude or violence, but it did see Twente put to the sword by a combination of Spurs’ endeavour, Tom Huddlestone’s right elbow and the 5^th official.  Even with Van der Vaart sent to the locker room in the 60^th minute for what Paul Scholes would concur was a display of ‘over enthusiastic’ tackling, the Dutch champions failed to take the game to Tottenham.  It certainly seemed that with Spurs down to 10 men and the lead standing at a slender 2-1 Twente should have smelt blood on the autumnal air.  However, the third penalty awarded to Spurs did not so much deflate Twente as see them reduced to the embodiment of a spent condom thrown in a bedside bin amid protestations that ‘That’s never happened to me before…’  Indeed post match interviews revealed that the Twente boss was convinced that some great social injustice had been performed on a par with America’s extreme rendition procedures post 9/11.  In fact, Spurs were merely learning that with great (…moderate) success come great decisions. 

Spurs' 4-1 victory over Twente and Inter’s destruction of Werder leave Group A in a very interesting position.  Spurs face a double header with Inter and should they take any points from those games they could count themselves in a fine position to push on to the last 16.  Werder and Twente will view their own matches as a chance for one to assert authority over the other.  Should either team take the full 6 points from those meetings they would only need to beat Tottenham to take their points tally to 10, surely enough to progress?

For Tottenham, the San Siro awaits.  Should Tottenham scalp the champions of Europe there, Redknapp’s already slack jowls promise to melt off his face in the torrent of hyperbole streaming out of his pie hole.  As a Spurs fan, these are the nights that make it worth while; for the layman Spurs rarely disappoint.  Be there or be watching Man Utd draw I suppose.

~ Ed