Making an Assio of himself

Hats off to Chelsea's Wayne Bridge look-a-like, Assio del Horno who came out in the press the other weekend taking the lid of Barcelona's despicable coaching practices of teaching unsuspecting youth players how to act like they have been taken out by a mistimed tackle.

Fertile ground blaming the bloody cheating foreigners in the papers. Perhaps Ass might have been better served having a chat down the training ground with his Chelsea Chums.

Arjen the Unstable and Joey Cole obviously arrived at the Bridge with a full repertoire of falls learned somewhere else. And the advantages they have gained from their irrational inability to stay on their feet in the heat battle has gone conveniently unnoticed by their valiant seeker of truth and justice Jose Mourinho.

I for one hope Chelsea do not lose another match this season. When they do lose their response is so child like, so cringingly embarrassing, it has literally made my flesh crawl on occasions , not a pleasant experience. Until such time as they learn to lose gracefully let's hope they are comfortable in their natural state of invincibility. No sendings off either because that just isn't fair. Is it didums?

Still reeling

It is 14 hours and a short fitful sleep since, but I am struggling to come to terms with last night's Arsenal v Real Madrid clash televised by ITV. A magnificent performance by the gunners in a hitherto impregnable Spanish fortress but what was Peter Drury going on about. They are well chronicled the problems with Alan Green and his oafish attempts to describe and convey our beautiful game, but Drury has upset me in another unacceptable way.

Who does he think he is, Oscar Wilde. "Arsenal in their pomp", "Swagger and zest" . It must be that commentating on ITV he doesn't get out much and when he does it is to some culturally rich European capital with architecture and museums that bring out the artist in him, but last night you would be hard pushed to tell the difference between Drury and Brian Sewell, such was the florid and verbose nature of the commentary.

Thank goodness for David Pleat who rendered the night half decent with his regular insight and down to earth comments. Come on ITV let's not forget - People's game People's channel

Green with Envy

Is it me or is Alan Green in need of a make over? Has his cheeky "Man of the People" gimmick started to wear a little thin? I have taken to "enjoying" the live commentary on the radio on Saturday's, Sunday's ,heck everyday of the week, this week and whilst all the commenators tend to grate after a while, Green is starting to really upset my sensibilities.

His battles with the sensitivities of premiership management are well chronicled, Fergy could do with some challenging, Allardyce's team are successful, why shouldn't they scrutinised. As John Bond said "It's a game of opinions" and Green is happy to dish his out.

Where the line needs drawing with Green is his sense of self. His opinion leaves little room for anything else. On 606 he sees the phoned in thoughts as merely a match to his blue touch paper opinion machine. In commentary - thankfully they split the job in each half so we are spared more misery- his ability to describe is superseded by his ability to self promote and act in a manner that would lead most 14 year olds to spend a week in their bedroom. The personal pronouns flourish. "For those of you who have just joined us this is terrible" proliferates when "Kewell on left, in to Hamman" is what we all crave.

In my youth you could buy records with the full 1967 FA Cup Final commentary on it and such like. Even with an edited Paul Oakenfold remix last night's Arsenal Liverpool clash would have struggled to shift any units on iTunes. Repetitive, disinforming and uninformed, you could get better value from a couple of blokes in the pub, it would be fresher.

"He won't be silenced" was the battle cry when he last upset his last Premiership manager. More pity for us all.

Respect

The piece on FC United has elicited our first unsolicited comment. A to L writes that I have chosen to ignore the inherent good in FC United. It may appear that I do not cherish the organic purity of the way the FC United is constructed and for that I apologise. Football clubs that work like FC United are so rare that it is to be applauded and cherished.

More Power to FCM and their success. And good luck to A to L in his pursuits. Judging by his location and agenda he is somebody who knows by bitter experience what the future may hold for the other United in the Manchester Area.

Fans are fickle - discuss

Mark Lawrenson is a strange character. In his playing days he was the one who everyone thought might be spare time model for a mail order catalogue. It was a reputation he liked to play upon at Liverpool when he used offer to drop the youth players home after training, so a friend of mine, who was 2nd choice goalie in the mid eighties, told me.

After a poor spell in management Lawro, became the sarcy languid sidekick to Alan Hansen and has never looked back. His constant attempts to be the bastard child of Oscar Wilde and Don Revie make him a figure of pity in our house, rather than anything else. He's always trying to be funny, rarely getting past smart arse. But on Wednesday this week he overstepped the mark when he said "The Fans are Fickle".

"The fans are fickle" was his expert analysis of Joey Barton's apparent zero to hero transformation at Man City's 90 minute humilation of Newcastle. Booed roundly for daring to challenge the club's valuation of his worth, Barton left to a standing ovation on his substitution during the second half.

What may not have occured to Lawro, was that the loyal and proud Barton baiters incensed by the timerity of the Huyton born rough diamond, might be entirely different fans from the ones who showed their appreciation of a job well done in the 78th minute. In fact, the lovers may have been spurred on by the haters, to show their fullsome support of Joey. You never know.

What Lawrenson demonstrated with breathless ease [again] was that the players and riders of the football's gravy train never have, and never will, understand how the fan works and kissing the badge and running into the crowd are just further evidence of the scant respect they have for us.

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Funny in a way Mark Lawrenson can only dream of. Click Here

Return of the Native

There are so few good heart-warming stories in the world of professional football, so it was delightful to read earlier this week about the return of Robbie Fowler to Anfield. As readers of this blog will know Robbie ticks all the boxes for his new club captain Stephen Gerrard - he's a scouser - job done and doubtless with the wave of misty eyed sentimentality will drag the kop faithful along in the wake of the rosy red glow of times gone by.

But let's look at the facts here, is this the same Robbie Fowler I watched playing for Liverpool some many August Bank Holidays ago at Leeds. A belligerent aimless 90 minutes of lethargic activity he meted out in the name of professionalism. Wouldn't run for balls that weren't "platini-inch" perfect. Quite Frankly (phrase used under license from Alan Green Enterprise Plc) here was a man who couldn't be arsed (and I don't mean that in the Graeme Le Saux sense of the word).

It is an interesting move: less petrol to the training ground (check) Still getting the cheques from Leeds (check) roomier bench (check) but in this world of gimme gimme gimme surely the media and the Liverpool fans can see through the spin and hype.

Ello Ello City Reject City Reject!!!