Recollections of the Past 1.0

The one, the only; MARIAN PAHARS!



My friend Nutsy and I often find ourselves discussing former players of the past, usually attempting to outdo each other in terms of obscurity. One name that came up the other night was none other than this Latvian; Ukrainian born striker who played for Southampton F.C between the years of 1999-2006. The lightning quick international striker was an integral part of the Saints attacking line up after his move from Skonto Riga in 1999.

Although sometimes used as an attacking left sided midfielder Pahars was most effective as an out and out striker. With bags of pace and skill to torment defenders, on his day Pahars was one of the most dangerous players in the Premiership.

Where is he now? Some rogue Cypriot club by the name of Anorthosis Famagusta. The only word I can use to describe this man is prodigious. Marian Pahars, you are officially obsecure.

Why Referees Are Not Footballers... Or Ballet Dancers...

LOL! Everton...

Just a random thought while I am sitting on my lounge enjoying the English Premier League highlights show, thinking about Everton and how they think they are all that. Well let my put a 'reds' spin on it. 7 - 1 against Sunderland is a great result yes, in fact 7 goals is brilliant. Except when Liverpool F.C are involved in a game where 8 goals are scored, it tends to look like this:



You see, Besiktas - from the country of Turkey, are a team that an English team can play against during a Continental competition, such as the UEFA cup, or in this case, the UEFA Champions League. Notice the difference between 8 - 0 and 7 - 1, and also the difference between Sunderland and Besiktas?



My point in summary is this; whatever Everton can do, Liverpool can do better. Its how it is, always has been and always will be. You'll Never Walk Alone.

The Mauve Half Of My Heart

Many people often question the origins of some of my footballing ideas and such, for example why I enjoy watching the likes of David Villa and David Silva of Valencia C.F, but paradoxically cannot watch the Spanish La Liga for extended periods of time? The answer to this is simple, Villa and Silva will move on to bigger and better things in the future, and the pace and energy of the English game which I have grown to love simply makes other leagues difficult to scrutinise and follow. However, there is a further anomaly with this paradox, and that is my devotion and infatuation for the club that is...


ROYAL SPORTING CLUB ANDERLECHT

Random much? I bet the most of you didn't see that one coming. This club, based in the Belgian capital of Brussels and established in 1908 are usually one of the ten or so clubs that fill up the group stages of the European Champions League, but never progress (other teams inlude Rosenborg, Steaua Bucherest and Slavia Prague). Further, unless on the odd chance that Anderlecht are drawn in a group alongside the Man United's and the Real Madrid's of the football community, you will never see them play on television be it free to air or pay-tv. This blog is something of an explanation on my behalf as to how and why I have such commitment for the 'Paarswit'.

It was the 1999/2000 season - and I think more specifically late 1999, and I was a brash 13 year old who had just began to come to grips with the technical side of the great game. On one of the few occasions I was at home on a Sunday afternoon, I decided to flick on the telly and see what was happening on the channel that is SBS. On came some random league in some random country with a lot of random people running around. Then, what happened next was something out of the ordinary. A young Jan Koller; in a white and mauve jersey, carving complete asshole like nothing I had ever seen. In hindsight I now realise that young J. Koller was too good to be plying his trade in the Jupiler League, but at the time I couldn't help but stay anchored to the lounge and watch the highlights of Anderlecht playing some great quality football. It so happened that RSCA went on to win the title that season, and I am proud to say that, with help from the internet, I was able to follow them for the best part of 8 months in the lead up to this lambasting event.

What has me flummoxed is the fact that, for all their quality in not only their first team but also their youth set up, Anderlecht are incapable of achieving and advancing in continental competition (there was one recent contradiction being the 00/01 season where they topped a group including PSV Eindhoven, Dynamo Kiev and Manchester United). I'm not taking all their recent domestic success for granted, but quite frankly I want to see RSCA flourish in the European competition (something which opposes my view on my other love - Liverpool F.C).

With past players including Aruna Dindane, Alin Stoica, Par Zetterberg, Gilles De Bilde, Celestine Babayaro, Vincent Kompany and Anthony Vanden Borre; its not hard to see why - at least in recent years - my love for Anderlecht has grown. With current players including Jan Polak, Lucas Biglia (just for you Nadsy!), Ahmed Hassan and Mbark Boussoufa, I am looking forward to the future. People may look at me strange or think of me as abberent, but for me Anderlecht will always be a team that I can support outside of the normal clique of the mainstream football community. RSCA - MENS SANA IN CORPORE SANO.

England National Team, A New Horizon?

So England have failed to qualify for the European Championships for 2008. Boo-fucking-hoo. As an Australian who proudly sports an English heritage and avid support for the national team, I find myself surprisingly exultant with the news. Why you may ask?



Steve McClaren's unpopular reign as England manager is finally over after being in charge for only 12 competitive games and departed the job with the worst percentage of defeats of any England manager. This man, in my estimation, has done little to impress the football community. For me, his demise has come at the best time possible. While at the beginning of the qualification campaign only a brave few would have would have wagered their money on Russia to go through to the finals with Croatia; England soon became their own worst enemies. Steve McClaren walked (rather stumbled) into his new position playing the big man on campus by instantly dropping David Beckham. Huh? A side lacking experience and he decides the captain has to go? While this decision could be seen as brave (and believe me I am all for giving the young blokes a run), the England national team required experience and the safe head that belongs to none other then "Goldenballs". What they got was the equivalent of the complete stupidity of a child in grade 2.

After playing their way through a hapless Andorra team in the first qualifying match, the writing was on the walls after a 1-0 loss to Macedonia (albeit being away from home). I do not see the point in harping on about these results. While England's group may have been slightly difficult (with the likes of Croatia, Russia and Israel), to say this team of individual world beaters underperformed is an understatement at the least. Many of their performances were simply deplorable, and to think the likes of Gerrard, Terry, Beckham, Rooney and Owen were unable to play their way through a group such as this is perplexing.

The fans and the English F.A need to alter their disposition if they want success in the future. They have what I like to call a "Lampard Mentality". Bear with me here. In the 10th (of 12) game of the qualification campaign against Estonia, a disgruntled, sulky and somewhat bitter Lampard sat on the bench with a face that suggested he deserved better treatment. Well 'Lamps'; in a midfield comprising of Gerrard, Carrick, Hargreaves, Joe Cole, Barry, Parker and (I cant believe I'm saying this) Stewart Downing, you must work for your starting place in the squad. Frank you fat donut munching waste of space; you don't deserve anything. The same goes for the English public. Just because the best league in the world is based in your country doesn't mean that your national team should clean up every major international competition they compete in.

I am going to cease this public humiliation of the England national squad, and in doing so alter my own mentality from one of anger and disgust to that of optimism and sanguineness. After McClarens axing and the promise of little international football (or any of significance at least) now is the time to have a good think about who would be a suitable replacement for McClaren (neglect the fact a stoned rabbit could do better). While I was (and I emphasise the word 'WAS') under an impression that Sven Goran Eriksson was a failure, I now realise that the media simply undermined his dissolution.

While there were only a few moments of brilliance that separated the numerous events of balmy eccentricity for Erikkson, the fact he got the national team to the Final 8 in the 2002 (after progressing through a group including Argentina, Sweden and Nigeria) and 2006 World Cup, not to mention the quarter finals of the UEFA Euro 2004 suggests to me that he was more of a triumph then a footballing faux pas. But now that both McClown and Eriksson have been written into the history books, where to now? 'The Golden One' a.k.a Jose Mourinho has knocked back the job before being formally asked, as has the relatively subdued leprechaun that is Martin O Neill. Big Phil Scolari is a favourite among fans - so long as the F.A don't scare him off again - and Marcello Lippi, when not dodging claims of involvement in calciopoli scandal, has made public his interest in a move across the Mediterranean. But will the F.A even consider hiring a non-british manager? Only time will tell with this stubborn lot. It is not particularly reassuring that the same man, Brian Barwick, who made such a blundering appointment in the first place will again head up the search for England's new incumbent. Oh dear.

England are NOT a top 10 nation in football, and will not be until the fans and the F.A appoint a smart manager who will get the "team" to play like a team. Until then, I am going to continue to pull my hair out in a bid to increase the similarities between my own head and that of the shiny dome that sits atop my fathers head.

The Beginning

Welcome all, I am Longy and it is fair to say that I have been put on this planet for one reason; to follow, play, live and breathe FOOTBALL.

Like so many of the mates around me, I have played the fine game since the age of 6. With my old man as coach, my debut was something to remember; I was told to stand in the opposition half and to kick the ball into the net at the end of the field. Short and sweet were the instructions, and sure enough the Bangor Brumbies 6C's felt the full wrath of my right boot, securing a 1-0 win on my debut. That night, i watched Ian Rush and John Barnes carve Queens Park Rangers to shreds as they too secured a 1-0 win over the hapless Rangers at the home of football; Anfield. And so my love affair with football commenced.

Over the past decade or two, I have endured the highest of summits and been put through weeks in the murky depths of the world of football. In my opinion, this is what attracts so many individuals to follow the game. Sport has the ability to carry anyone involved in it through so many different emotions, its like nothing else. Football, for me, does this better then every other sport put together plus some.

As you may see I am very opinionated; hence the creation of this blogspot. The comments that are to follow will perhaps be controversial, skeptical; foolish even. Those of you who read this may shake your head in disbelief at the words have been published, but lets remember that Football is a game followed by millions like me. I urge you to rebut my annotations, let loose your assessment of the world game. For now, I leave you, but fear not more will come in the not-too-distant future!
YNWA