The Hibernian Miscellany

It's Listmas Time!

2006-12-20T12:31:00.000Z

"The votes have been counted, the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap aftershave hangs in the air. A junior editor drains the last dregs from the coffee machine. It's Listmas time again folks with your host...".

For those of you who are reading the last line in the voice of Ellen Barkin and if you can picture the interior of both Samsons Diner and The Abernathy Building, then your list may have many overlaps with mine, because top of the list for 2006 is XM radio's wonderful 'Theme Time radio Hour' weekly show hosted by none other than Bob Dylan.

For those of you, not yet familiar with the joys of 'Theme Time Radio Hour', fear not, BBC Radio 2 has syndicated the show to air over the festive season. you can catch the first six episodes from saturday 23rd December at 7pm.

The show has been THE highlight of the year. The obscure records from the thirties, forties and fifties mixed with contemporary classics from the likes of Uncle Tupelo and Ron Sexsmith thrown into a melting pot with the laconic humour of Old Uncle Bob is what radio was invented for. His between song patter and setup interviews with the likes Charlie Sheen and Jenny Lewis (A particular favourite of mine) is wonderfully funny and nostalgic at the same time. Theme Time Radio hour wins outright the Listmas award for entertainment highlight of 2006.

Musically speaking we had a lot of contenders for the big ten, in no particular order other than ascending, here comes the heavyweights.

10. The Raconteurs - Broken Boy Soldiers
Brendan and Jack? Well it's already been written about to death by this stage. But basically, two pretty decent songwriters take the formula from seventies rock with a capital R and re-invent themselves as the garage band they probably always wanted to be. It's a great fun record but does tend to be quite samey in parts. However, the live show is a much more accurate portrayal of the band.

9.Sparklehorse - Dreamt for light years in the belly of a mountain
It's been five long years since Sparklehorse's "It's A Wonderful Life," which is probably the most "ordinary" album Mark Linkous has ever produced. But the mysterious Linkous returns to his peak with "Dreamt For Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain," his fourth album full of unpredictable indie-rock. The trademark guitar sound of Sparklehorse is a welcome antidote for the current Kasabian-Arctic Monkeys-Razorlight reinvention of britrock that seems to be clowning around our airwaves at the moment.

8. Jenny Lewis and The Watson Twins - Rabbit Fur Coat
The best work of Ms Lewis comes, surprisingly, sans Rilo Kiley. The Californian Indie-Americana Princess has jingle jangled old time melody lines that wouldn't be out of place on a T Bone Burnett compilation with the folk rock sound she helped create with the aforementioned Rilo Kiley. Her duet with Bright Eyes' Conor Oberst on 'Handle With Care' is, in a word, brilliant.

7. M. Ward - Post-War
Another underrated american. Since 2005, he's toured with the White Stripes, coproduced the debut from Rilo Kiley's Jenny Lewis, (mentioned at number 8) and found the time to knock out a cracking portrait of America. Post-War is rootsy -- reaching back into the best of the Blues, early jazz, country, folk -- and yet also modern in the sense of being "lo-fi" yet not so self-conscious as other practitioners of this "genre" . It's thoughtful, provactive and well worth the work that may be required if you're not all that familiar with the lo-fi production.

6. Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Live at the Filmore East
Recorded at the Fillmore East in New York in 1970, this shows a rock combo at the heights of their creative peak. An essential document that features the original Crazy Horse line up with Danny Whitten. Hopefully this seascape of colliding guitars and Youngs definitive twang over such classics as ' Down by the River' will be the tip of the iceberg for archive releases. God knows his current output is bordering on criminal.

5. Johnny Cash - A Hundred Highways.
For purely sentimental reasons and for the last time you hear a voice like that! Rick and Johnny in a studio passing the last days of an American icon can produce sounds like these. I kid you not, death is all over this record, you can smell it creeping around the studio. The voice of doom!

4. Sufjan Stevens - Avalanche
The more I hear of this kid the more i like him. Avalanche is a collection of cast offs from 'Illinoise' and God they sound great. His spacial awareness, musically speaking, is what does it for me. he doesnt crowd his songs, he lets them breathe. Looking forward to his forthcoming Christmas album...that should be a doozy.

3. Jeff Tweedy - Sunken Treasure
A live DVD that allows you to download the album. Made all the more sweeter by the best gig Vicar Street has seen in 5 years. Jeff Tweedy gives singer songwriter lessons to Damien Rice, Paddy Casey, Declan O Rourke, Glen hansard and the rest of the buskers we like to call homegrown talent. Lads, take note..this is how it's done.

2. Bob Dylan - Modern Times
Just pipped out of top spot this year because of two very mediocre (by Dylan standards) tracks on an otherwise fascinating delve into the world and the world occupied by Bob Dylan. First of the minus points. 'The levee's gonna break' has THE most annoying guitar riff to grace a Dylan album, and I include 'wiggle wiggle'. Rollin' and Tumblin' just rolls and tumbles and goes nowhere, and keeps reminding me of 'Dirt Road Blues' which was the least played Dylan song at Number 8 until now. On the high points, and some of them are very high, we have 'Nettie Moore' which shakes you to your bones and haunts your every move. 'Workingmans Blues' which was nearly the next great Dylan song (we haven't added to that category since 'Not Dark Yet' in 1997). Throw in the best rock-blues number of the past year 'Someday baby', an itunes ad of the decade by the way, and the sweetness of slow ballads like 'When The Deal Goes Down' and close the whole thing off with the inevitable Ramble through Dylan's weirness @Aint talkin' and you can almost hear Greil Marcus let out a tiny excited whimper. As good as 'Love and Theft' but a smidgen short of his best.

1. Tom Waits - Orphans
A three, count them, three CD set from Tommy. It mixes new recordings with unreleased 'orphans' from older sessions. It has a magnifiscence about it that is nowhere to be seen in the new breed of artists today. After bouncing back from a somewhat disappointing ' Real Gone' by his standards, Tom returns to the landscape that only he can occupy. The wasteland of America, punctuated with characters like Scarface Ron and Blackjack Ruby that could have been culled from a Kerouac road trip or a.... Tom waits song! It's such a tribute to the man that he has become an adjective. Dylanesque and now Waitsean. I doubt there will ever be a (Neil) Young-ian or a Kasabianesque reference made in thirty years time.

Tom is a true original and along with Kathleen Brennan a master of music production. The rockabilly bluesy dirty driving sound is so suited to both his voice and his material. The stories are brilliant, the music fantastic and the listening experience over three discs unsurpassed this year.

So another year draws to a close, and s the gates shut on 2006, I just have a quick minute to run through the other highlights...

Film:
1. The Departed
2. The Squid and The Whale
3. Lucky Number Slevin
4. Friends With Money
5. Superman Returns

Gigs
1. Tweedy at Vicar street
2. Bob in Cork
3. Raconteurs at the Olympia
4. Leonard Tribute (except for Gavin) at the Point
5. Flaming Lips and Bob in Kilkenny

Sport
1. Ronaldo's Penalty against England in the World Cup
2. Argentina's wonder goal (23 passes I think)
3. Barcelona beating Arsenal in the Champions League Final
4. Roy Keane taking Micks old Job
5. Stans face after Ireland lose to Cyprus

The Newly Discovered Resource

2006-11-07T15:52:00.000Z

One of the most wonderful things about this interweberry-diggery-do community cum 'infinite jest' society, cum vanity fuelled ego-central-ised misplaced priority ridden right-on-line universe we inhabit is that every so often, and seldom is wonderful, we happen upon a resource like no other.

A resource so profound and so full of the joys of life and so complete in it's every facet that we simply don't know how we ever survived before it was part of our point-and-click bookmarked favourite list thingy.

It is with great fanfare, drumroll and tumbling midgets I present......

101 Great Goals

The Saturday and Sunday updates are essential for those outside the realms of TV Football land (ie Anywhere in The US). Video highlights of every GAME!

My service to society is now complete

Remember, Remember The Start of November...

2006-11-01T12:32:00.000Z

The clocks went back on Saturday. I got an extra hour in bed on Sunday and contracted an extremely sore throat that looks like spilling over into full blown bacterial infection of the trachea. In short, Winter has arrived. My warderobe has been altered accordingly. Heavy corduroy shirts and boots replaced the more laissez faire t shirts and sneakers. My facial hair growth becomes less frequently addressed and my haircut interval wider by a few weeks as I slip into a more hibernatory state.

My diet becomes more sloppy. Stews, soups, chilli's and ghoulash replace the more summery 'dry' food. Tea replaces beer for November just to add to the overall mood of depression. It's dark on the drive home and Bob Dylan's "Theme Time Radio Hour" serves as the soundtrack for the journey as he delves into older, darker, more mysterious times.

It rains every other day.

The Champions League approaches the end of the preliminary group stage as night time games start to feature gloved Mediterraneans traveling to away games in Sofia.

Tissues become a necessary item in the glove box.

I start to read more as more time gets spent indoors. I sleep less because my body knows not what time of night it is once the clock strikes 6pm and the Angelus fills me with more anger than usual.

It rains every other day.

To compensate us for perseverance, the month of December follows black November, when everyone goes on a holiday from their sanity for nearly a month. The reason for this is clearly because November has robbed us of any sanity or sense of purpose.

The heating timer is adjusted daily towards ever earlying hours.

It rains every other day.

Winterlude

2006-10-19T11:03:00.000+01:00

Manchester United are top of the league going into this weekends annual tete a tete with their scouse nemesis, Liverpool. This years Liverpool side under Rafael Benitez has, like a new dawn, promised so much, with exceptional talent recruited throughout the team.

Sissoko looks solid in the middle. Alonso is probably the best distributer of a ball in the preiership. Kuyt is a world class striker and in Jermaine Pennant and Mark Gonzalez they have for the first time a genuine wide threat. But in saying all this, they are doing really really badly, and as they approach their November Winterlude, things don't look like they are getting better.

Traditionally, Liverpool's season ends with a crash in November. Traditionally Man Utd start slowly and don't hit 5th gear till January. This year, however Liverpools November seems to have come very early. So too has United's January. Is global warming affecting the premiership patterns as well as the tides? Has Winterlude come in September? Does this mean the season will end in March rather than May? If this trend continues the 2010 world cup will be held in january 2009! I hope someone has alerted the South Africans....

Grand Theft Football

2006-10-09T15:07:00.000+01:00

Cigarette ash all over my light grey t-shirt on Friday evening. The effect on a passer by would be to look at me as if i was inebriated and shuffling my way home from Dunshaughlin Village after some post work drinking binge centred around absynth and Guinness.

Well, the passer by would be wrong on all counts. The far away look in my eye and the rubbed in cigarette ash was because I was coming to terms with a shocking truth about myself. In my late thirties I had finally become a non believer. A veritable shell of a man. A soulless wastrel, dragging my thirty pieces of silver home to my doomed conscience. I had backed CYPRUS to beat Ireland to the tune of 7-1!

I did not take this decision lightly. I had wrestled with my conscience all day. I had thrown mental daggers at the 'thick ignorant' manager spawned by John Delaney as Saddam Hussein to his Satan (see Southpark the movie). He had left me no choice. I turned on them, on my national team. I wagered my very identity as an Irish football supporter on them to be beaten. How could I live with myself?

Well, enough of the amateur dramatics and the over blowing of a mere sporting occasion into biblical proportions. I'm not Andy Gray after all. My defense is that I did it for the greater good. I cheered on the Cypriot part timers because I knew it would take something THIS BIG to end the reign of Delaney and Staunton. If it doesn't, then you are all to blame. When Brian Kerr brought Roy Keane back to Ireland, I thought we had a future. I thought we were getting over ourselves and that the culchie mentality of the past was being abandoned in favour of a more mature adult approach to governing our national team. I was wrong...

It's overhaul time. Minister for Sport John Donoghue needs to step in. Take the funding away until the house is in order. Hit them where it hurts, in the pockets. It would guarantee his re-election in six months time.

I'm hoping to go to the final match at Lansdowne Road next Wednesday, when we play host to the Czech republic. I didn't think I'd be cheering for the opposition though. Staunton and Delaney have stolen my football team from me. They've robbed me of the chance to cheer on an Irish side that holds the values I believe in. I've stood alone on the North Terrace on wet Wednesday afteroons in the early eighties to watch underachieving teams under John Giles and Eoin Hand. I basked in the glory of the Charlton years. Stood by the remaining squad after they treated Roy Keane so badly in Saipan. All this for nothing. The Fai (by the FAI I mean Delaney) has fucked us all, by landing us with a half decent golfer and sycophant from Dundalk. A man, with no managerial expertise. A man with no panache. A man devoid of charm. A man who's stubborn and ignorant. A man who commands absolutely no authority or respect. A man with a minimal grasp of the english language. A man who who has all the hallmarks of a trainee manager in SuperValu. A man who is frightened to call up Lee Carsley because he is frightened of having his authority undermined. A man who only feels secure when he is barking incomprehensible Dundalk curses at eighteen year olds. A man Roy Keane would have eaten for breakfast. A man? No. A charlatan.

I'm getting upset now. Time to lie down...

Staunton/Delaney MUST GO!

5 out of 10

2006-08-28T11:38:00.000+01:00

In Ireland, every week, at least 5 (occasionally 6) out of the ten premiership games are shown live on TV. For example, this weekend:

Sat 12:45pm Liverpool v West Ham
Sat 3pm Watford v Man Utd
Sat 5:15pm Man City v Arsenal
Sun 4pm Blackburn v Chelsea
Mon 8pm Middlesboro v Portsmouth

That's 10 hours of football if you take in the half time breaks and 15 minute post match interviews. That's a lot of time in a working man's weekend. It's like I have two jobs. No wonder the washing is piling up.

Saturday, normally starts with the 10-11:30am five-a-side-cobweb-killing astro turf game, leaving one's blood circulating at a normal rate and an appetite for salty food and coffee. Lot's of coffee. However, due to holidays etc. the Saturday morning runaround was cancelled due to insufficient squad members.

Hence a more lethargic start to the Saturday. My significantly better looking other half had a hair appointment in town at 11am and a lunch date with a revisiting emigrant friend at 2pm. She estimated her return home would be sometime around 7ish. She had abandoned her plans to supplement her lunch with alcohol due to an inordinate amount of wine the previous night medicinally administered to dull out the constant replaying of the new Bob Dylan record which had been released that morning. What I'm trying to say here is was that I didn't need to leave the house to collect her from town. I was home alone with satellite TV and the fridge...

For those of you not familiar with the dual couch set up for marathon sports fests, here is a brief summary of the theory in it's rudimentary form.Two couches are positioned along parallel walls lying perpindicular to the angle of the TV screen. If the TV is north facing, then the two couches will be east and west facing respectively. The south facing arm rest on each couch is the 'head' position. When a human male is immobile for long stretches of 2 or more hours, the smaller vertebrae can become irritated at the lack of support as the molecular structure of the cushions and spring mechanism setlles in one position. This necissates a 'couch substitution'. The couch rotation system allows the primary couch to regain it's 'vigour' so to speak and one can 'switch-back' at the end of the fourth hour of the sports-fest.

Clear? Good. Dateline 12:30. Breakfast inhaled and coffee pot full. Various mini muffins within arms reach. 13:40pm. Liverpool unveil their new Dutch striker after about an hour. 2-1 up at half time against a West Ham team high on endeavour but low on quality. A spectacular Daniel Agger 30 yard strike equalised and a Crouch strike put them ahead right on the break. (Agger's goal can be seen here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVGbCXSAi9k). A good game that could have been turned upside down had Bowyer not missed a sitter in the dying minutes. Kuyt, however, looked nothing like he did in a Holland shirt. He looked like he could play. He was intelligent, enthusiastic and a big handful for defenders. It's too early to tell but the advance previews would certainly point to a box office hit, so to speak..

3pm. First couch switch. Muffins gone. Coffee dreggs only in pot. Switch also to Brazil nuts and Pilsner Urquell. Watford host Man Utd and the usual array of ex scouse players fan the flames of Mancunian hatred both in the RTE studio (Ray Houghton, Trevor Steven) and in the commenatry box (Jim Beglin). Who hires these clowns? Impartiality is a word they'll never understand. United were easy favourites and the leaped to an early one nil lead thanks to a well taken Silvestre goal. However in the usual comedy defending slot Mikael Silvestre starred in his usual role of the 'dummy' as he allowed a shimmy to wrong foot him and the cross ended up beyond Van der Saar for one all.

It took another piece of high jinks to put United one up when the worst back pass of all time allowed Giggs time and space to put Utd back in front. Without too much sweat being broke United sailed comfortably to their 3/3 record so far in the league. There's a highlights clip here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0LsVSyZ6C2k.

5:15pm: Pilsner numero quatro as Arsenal travel to Manchester to give a lesson in football to Man City. And a lesson they gave. In football. But not in winning. Arsenal suffered once again from their desperate quest for the perfectly executed goal. A clumsy challenge from Hoyte led to a penalty which Joey Barton despatched with the help of a crossbar to make it one nil. Arsenal passed, passed, passed and passed a little more while never really offering any thrust or goal bound end product. This Arsenal team likes to play pretty football, and fair play to them. But sometimes you gotta dig in for a result, scrap, scrap, scrap, scrap and scrap some more. Thierry Henry, who has more admirers than a Swedish Supermodel, didn't want to be there. His body language betrayed a distinct lack of interest and this could be Arsenal's undoing.

7:15pm and the newly coiffured lady of the house returns with glossy magazines in tow. She assumes her cat-like curl in the corner armchair and miraculously a large cold glass of white wine appears at her fingertips. I'm beginning to think her name should be Samantha...

Saturday's highlights round up starts in 15 minutes time whilst I change couches for the final time. I enquire as to what will be served for dinner when I am reminded in a timely fashion that I do the cooking around here. All this armchair athleticism made me forget who I was...

...What!!?

2006-08-24T10:28:00.000+01:00

Dateline: Wednesday 23rd August, 20:44 GMT. I was in the middle of an ordinary evenings football viewing. Chelsea were one up at Middlesboro as usual, It was only a matter of time before Manchester United went one up at Charlton. The woodwork had already denied them on a coupel of occasions and Darren Fletcher had just made his 187th incomplete pass of the game....

Business as usual.

Then the phone rang.

"This is NO JOKE,", came the voice on the end of the phone, quavering slightly. "Roy Keane is the new manager of Sunderland!". .

Something funny was happening. Was Superman doing his big lap of the globe and dirupting some temperal flux of cosmic jiggidy joobies? Roy Keane? Reporting directly to Niall Quinn!!!! The Sunderland chairman who famously backed McCarthy in the Saipan incident. The spineless coward who sat back and watch ireland's greatest player sent home from what would have been the crowning glory of his football career. The beanpole 'Mother Teresa' who was the subject of much of Keane's post-Saipan vitriol!!! Something is screwed up. Bobby Ewing was about to walk out of the shower.

Then Darren Fletcher scored. I passed out.

I came to with just over ten minutes to play. United were cruising to an easy win. Louis Saha had made it two nil, then the scoreflash came on the bottom of the screen. Middlesboro had equalised against Chelski! Just when I thought things were as far off the sanity plane as they possibly could get, up steps a big fat Australian named Mark Viduka, and sealed a Middlesboro win in the 90th minute.

Chelsea beaten, Fletcher scores, United three points clear of Chelsea at the top of the table, and Roy Keane's PRSI number on the same paypath sheet as Niall Quinn's! I need to lie down.....

The first week of normal service

2006-08-21T14:09:00.000+01:00

Normal service resumed. In more ways than one. Chelsea take a handy 3-0 victory over Man City looking like they are just continuing on from where they left off in May. Liverpool stuttered to a very unconvincing draw against newcomers Sheffield United, Arsenal christened their new stadium with an equally unconvincing 1-1 draw at home to lowly Aston Villa. Spurs nosedived against Bolton, going 2-0 down to a wonderstrike from Ivan Campo (40 Yards??) and Manchester United brushed Fulham aside 5-1 in what must have been the easiest win seen at Old Trafford in many a year.

Too early to decipher anything from these events. Only it is worth noting that Liverpool have an uneasy Champions League qualifier tomorrow against the re-housed Israeli team Macabi Haifa (The game is being played in Kiev for security reasons) so one can assume the below strength eleven was fielded with this game in mind.

The most notable event of the weekend was Reading's arrival in the top flight. Two nil dowen to Middlesborough and yet they won the game 3-2. Their dedication, commitment and application of a 'back to basics' style of football was by far and away the biggest achievemnet of the opening weekend.

Scouse Escape / Prospects for New season

2006-08-10T14:06:00.000+01:00

After going one nil down to the Israelis, the two scouse new boys, Craig 'GBH' Bellamy and Mark Gonzalez conspired with the Red version of The Great Escape. Indeed, it was the young Chilean who came off the bench to rescue the ten million in Chamions League fees in the last minute. High drama at Anfield.

But what about their prospects for the coming year? They show great potential. Barring Peter Crouch, Bolo Zenden and Luis Garcia they have quality all over the pitch and though it pains me to say it, they do look like contenders, but they do seem to lack direction and strategy.

Where Chelsea, and to a lesser extent, Man Utd, play to a preordained system, Liverpool seem to lack the understanding of the system they try to play. Playing a centre forward alone means that he needs to be mobile. So much so, when the game necissatates him (Bellamy) to drift left or right, the hole in the centre needs to be plugged very quickly by either a Gerrard moving up quickly from midfield, or a Gonzalez or a lesser spotted Pennant coming in from the flanks. Out of all thre players mentioned above it was only the Chilean who seemed to grasp this concept.

This is where Liverpool floundered lkast season. The inept Crouch being used as a spearhead only contributed to a blunt attacking force and a whole litany of wasted opportunites. It looks like that unless Dirk Kuyt arrives from Holland in a big hurry that Liverpool's plan B will again involve the worst centre forward in England. Liverpool are one nil down. Twenty minutes to go and Crouch comes off the bench. Not exactly striking fear into opponents hearts now is it....

Aborted World Cup Experiment / Premiership & Champions League Gusto

2006-08-08T16:00:00.000+01:00

Well who'd have thought that a little thing like The World Cup could take up so much of one's life, and Summer. So much was the excitement and the juggling of work and the beautiful game as well as competing in an albeit much tournament that the oul Blog got neglected to a dusty state of disrepair.

But it's back...

And so is the Premiership, and The Champions League. Liverpool and Arsenal have to prequalify for the Champions League and a potentially fatal banana skin awaits the Liverpudlians. They have drawn those giants of world football. Israeli team Macabi Haifa. Normally this would be a pushover but with the political situation the way it is and the spotlight of the world on Israel these things have a habit of going "NOT ACCORDING TO PLAN".

The qualifiers, are as most of you will be aware, two legged affairs. The home tie is at home in Liverpool for the reds and the away tie?..Well, nobody really knows yet. One thing's certain Israel and Lebannon are OUT!

Arsenal travel to eatern europe for their AWAY leg tonight against Dynamo Zagreb. The Arsenal are clear favourites, but without their talismanic Thierry Henry, the now Retired Dutch master Denis Bergkamp, and the 'soon-to-be-a-Chelsea-player' Ashley Cole, the trip doesn't look as straightforward now as it did before they boarded their Air Crotia Flight 999 yesterday morning.

One waits with bated breath before the kick offs tonight and tomorrow. For those of you watching on Treadmill-O-Vision the kick off times are 8:05pm GMT.

The First weekend...phew!

2006-06-12T12:58:00.000+01:00

What a weekend that was. Germany's opener against Costa Rica turned a few heads. Especially Lahm's and then Frings' goals. Not to forget Paolo 'Spaghetti Legs' Wanchope opening his account with two very well taken finishes against a poor German keeper. Oliver Kahn must surely be called from the bench for game 2?

The best games came courtesy of two distinct underdogs. Ecuador outclassed the rather stale Polish team and even though we predicted an unlikely draw, the Ecuadorians went one better and beat the Poles 2-0. But the highlight so far has to be the 0-0 draw between Sweden and a ten man Trinidad & Tobago. Such heroics have never been seen in a dogs age on a football pitch. Dwight Yorke's men fought gallantly against the yellow tide of a very talented and extremely well organised Swedish team, and thoroughly deserved their draw for a 'backs against the wall' performance that was second to none.

The yawn-fest of the tournament came from Engerland, who provided absolutely no guile or imagination in the absence of their talismanic Wayne Rooney. Never before have I seen such an obvious one man team, but England without Rooney are very ordinary. A flukey own goal from a perfectly delivered Beckham free kick was enough to get all three points, but surely this kind of luck can't hold out long enough for them to provide any serious competition?

Holland and Portugal both got off to winning starts albeit sluggishly. Both teams failed to convincingly despatch what could be considered 'lesser' opposition. Portugal came up against Angola, the most physically strong team we've seen thus far, and they gave a good account of themselves. Figo was like his old self, masterminding the midfield while Ronaldo offered the width and pace to compliment Figo's deft passing ability. But on the hour mark Big Phil Scolari subsituted Ronaldo for the more defensive Costinho and moved Figo out to the left where he would me more restricted and left the horribly ineffective Simao as their pacey right sided midfielder? Such inept subsitutions lead you to wonder how this coach ever won a world cup.

The Dutch are simply playing the wrong system. Van Nistelrooy has never worked well as a lone strike. Man Utd tried this last season with disastrous consequences that seen them dumped out of the Champions League at the group stages. However Marco Van Basten decided to play him as the target man in front of a five man midfield. Robben and Van Persie provided the width, but why wasn't there TWO strikers in the box. Surely Kuyt and Van Nistelrooy should have started together with Cocu in the middle losing out?

Sneijder and Van Bommell did an adequate job in midfield but you can't help wondering is Van Der Vaart injured? He surely must be because the team needs his talent. The Dutch will grow into this tournament, but they really need to start operating with two out and out strikers.

Today we get our first sighting of the USA and The Italians. The Italians will start slowly but get results. The USA......well we'll see.

Todays Bet: 5 euro on Pirlo to score first in Italy v Ghana at 11/1

World Cup Funnies: #1 Weather

2006-06-09T13:26:00.000+01:00

In a first of our series of periodical comedic pieces. This arrived in my mailbox not so long ago. Read right to the end...

40 degrees - Californians shiver uncontrollably. People in Ireland sunbathe.
35 degrees - Italian cars won't start. People in Ireland drive with the windows down.
20 degrees - Floridians wear coats, gloves, and wool hats. People in Ireland throw on a T-shirt.
15 degrees - Californians begin to evacuate the state. People in Ireland go swimming in the sea.
0 degrees - New York landlords turn the heat on. People in Ireland have a last barby before it gets cold.
-10 degrees - People in Miami are extinct. People in Ireland lick flagpoles.
-20 degrees - Californians all now live in Mexico. People in Ireland throw on a light jacket.
-100 degrees - Santa Claus abandons the North Pole. People in Ireland wear a vest and pull down their ear flaps.
-297 degrees - Microbial life starts to grind to a halt.Irish cows complain of farmers with cold hands.
-460 degrees - ALL atomic motion stops. People in Ireland start saying "It's a bitin cold ...? "
-500 degrees - Hell freezes over. Irish people support England in the World Cup

Game on....Day1: Games 1 &2

2006-06-09T12:55:00.000+01:00

With the big kick off just a tea break away, we look now at the first two matchups in detail.

First Germany v Costa Rica.

The German's star player, Michael Ballack, the best attacking midfielder in Europe is a doubt. TV in Germany is filled with nothing else. Will he make it? The latest reports from Germany is he might!The man himself is quoted as saying 'I am fit, I want to play' in an Arnie Shwarzenneger accent. The Borg may have their collective but it don't run half as efficiently without it's head man in the middle. However, if he doesn't make it the German's still have more than enogh to defeat the Costa Ricans, but hey, aren't opening games supposed to throw up surprises?

Costa Rica are a bit of an unknown force. Paulo Wanchope's rubber legs can often bend comically out of control when there is no defender within 10 yards. Players used to the more ethereal style of Costa Rican football may find the robuster contact of European opponents uncovers hitherto unrealised jelly in their legs.

With this in mind, and the physicality of the Germans, they really need a very sympathetic referee to force anything other than a resounding defeat. In saying this, Costa Rica are the romantics of the tournament, who subscribe to the Kevin Keegan philosophy of football: however many you score, we'll score one fewer. A 3-2 defeat in France last year, when they were 2-0 up at half-time, showed their strengths and weaknesses, but they are loose cannons who will make some hits in the weakest group in the tournament.

But, my head says Germany.

In the second Match up, Poland take on Ecuador

A draw is written all over this one. Keep a close eye on Euzebiusz Smolarek. The skilful 25-year-old Borussia Dortmund striker plays in midfield for Poland, having grown up in Holland and risen through the ranks at Feyenoord. Poland are workmanlike and busy about the pitch with no real outstanding flair. They could nail second place in the group when they have their annual grudge match against the Germans end in a draw.

Ecuador? Who? I know absolutely nothing about this crowd except for a montage of footage that lasted 4 minutes on 'Trans World Sport' last week. As mentioned earlier in this blog, Austin Delgado is their main man, and if he's their main man, God help them. I still think they'll force a draw, simply because the Poles aren't that good either.

The USA: Another Surprise?

2006-06-09T12:30:00.000+01:00

Unfortunately for the US of A, soccer has long been a sport of the suburbs. Until the tentacles of 'soccer' reach into the less affluent areas of the community, football (sorry, soccer) will be played by those who lack the hunger for success.

All the great players have come from dirt poor backgrounds. Wayne Rooney from the council estate in Liverpool, Pele from the backstreets of Brazil, Georgie Best from troubled Belfast corporation estates. But this opinion comes in the face of a FIFA ranking of 5 for the USA!

Because the USA play most of their competitive games against similarly weak opposition the ranking is artificially high. So how do we think they will fare. One of the chief sportswriters of The Guardian shares my opinion that this World Cup will see a return to the old guard. The heat and humidity of Japan and South Korea in 2002 is replaced by a much more hospitable climate. A major factor for Western European teams.

Sean Ingle writes "The old order will dominate. In 2002, Senegal, Turkey, South Korea and the United States were shock first-time quarter-finalists. It won't happen again: there's no sapping humidity this time around, and the big names aren't beat-up and battered. Germany 2006 will be more like France 98, when Brazil, Argentina, Holland, Italy, France, Germany, Croatia and Denmark made the last eight. Boring, but true."

He also has a damnining indictment of the USA's chances in Germany, he adds, "The United States won't make it past the first round. Group E isn't that difficult - Ghana's defence is ropey and the Czechs are an ageing team - but most of the American hacks reckon the US aren't as strong as in 2002. They'll be fit and well-organised, sure, but with Landon Donovan, Claudio Reyna and DeMarcus Beasley all having indifferent seasons, they probably don't have the quality."

I however do hold out a bit more hope for the American's progress. In a group with Italy, Ghana and the Czechs, I can see them pulling off one of the surprises of the tournament. What Mister Ingle has failed to accentuate is the fact that the Czechs have a terrible defence. A great attack but a woeful defence. Also Italy never really fire on all cylinders until the second round and perhaps USA could do what they did to the Portugese last time. Although, this time the element of surprise is not something they can count on.

The Observer newspaper also commends the American Head Coach by saying. "The brilliantly named and abrasive Bruce Arena, who was also in charge in 2002. 'He's the same old Bruce,' says captain Claudio Reyna. 'He still has that brash New York attitude.' His very fit and well organised side are hard to beat."

True, to an extent. America do have the jump on most of their competitiors in the fact that their players would not have been through the gruelling European seasons that their European Competitors would have. With 12 of the squad based in Europe and 11 relatively fresh - it's early in the Major League season - there are possibilities of progressing from a tough group. But unless they win it, they would probably come up against Brazil, who knocked them and everyone else out of USA 94. Much depends on Captain America, Claudio Reyna. Everything goes through him in the middle.

So who's the man to watch for our American readers? With the much touted Freddie Adu not selected, the USA are looking to Eddie Johnson. The Golden Boot winner at the 2003 Youth World Cup, Johnson scored on his full debut against El Salvador in 2004 then recorded a hat-trick as a substitute in his second game, against Panama.

I just hope (Unlikely though it is) that they get to play Iran at some stage....

The Golden Boot and the broken boot

2006-06-08T13:25:00.000+01:00

One of the most popular 'side' competitions in the world cup is the Golden Boot. The top goalscorer for the tournament. Typically a Golden boot winner will finish with around 6 goals although Jus Fontaine holds the record at a massive 13 goals. The further the progression the better chance the team has of supplying us with the overall winner but not always the case. In Mexico in 1986 Gary Lineker claimed the boot with 6. England went out in the quarter finals, and memorably Oleg Salenko in 1994 winning with 6 for Russia while his team failed to make it out of the group stages!!

This year could see another Eastern European take the boot. Schevchenko has a very very handy group stage up against Tunisia and Saudia Arabia (who Germany put 9 past last time out!!)) and he has recently secured a move from AC Milan to Chelsea so his future is secured. That however can be a bad thing and the World Cup often provides a shop window for unsettled players to put themselves in. Much has been made of the Juventus scandal in italy where the famous black and white stripes may see themslves relegated from Serie A to Serie B following match fixing allegations. Should this happen, one can expect a veritable Moses like exodus of the top internationals. David Trezeguet and Zlotan Ibrahimovic (France and Sweden) respectively need a good world cup to cement their value in foreign markets. Sweden however, do not look like contenders. So Tezeguet would shade this one.

My vote however is going to a very very very unsettled player with a huge point to prove. Ruud Van Nistlerooy is desparate to prove himself on the world stage after falling out with Alex Fergusn at Man Utd following Keane's transfer to Celtic. He was unceremoniously dropped from the first team, and all but transfer listed as he was excluded from taking part in Keanes testimonial match at the seasons close. He is playing in a very tough group that includes Argentina, but, he is playing with the best Dutch team in two decades. The supply line comes thick and fast from Van Persie, Robbben, Van Der Vaart and Van Bommel, and his strike partner in Dirk Kuyt is a tremenduous foil for Ruuds predatory instincts at 16/1 he gets the Hibernian fiver for today.

Our balance is now 90 euro for the remainder of the tournament.

Tomorrow, the games commence...

Group A: Home advantage and a banana skin!

2006-06-07T15:29:00.000+01:00

The big kick off is happening on Friday evening at 5pm GMT. After the hoopla of the opening ceremony, the focus will switch immediately to the adidas clad host nation. The Germans (BORG) will walk completely in synch to the designated touchline, all turn in unison to face their flag and stand emotionless during their national anthemn. And who will line up alongside them to test the mettle of one of Europe's footballing super-powers?

Costa Rica! Yes the might of Costa Rica. True the embarressed Scotland in 1990 by beating them one nil and setting a precedence that every other nation has followed since. But c'mon. Against the germans? Their star player is old spaghetti legs, Paulo Wanchope. The former Manchester City striker is retiring from international football after the World Cup. Despite being thoroughly erratic in front of goal, he is the Ticos' all-time leading scorer with 43 goals in 67 internationals. A word of warning to the Germans. Senegal. The 1998 World champions France were beaten 1-0 in their opening group game in 2002 by a little known African team. Liverpool the went and spent the entire Scouse slush fund on half their team. Remember Salif Diao anyone?

The Germans are far too systematic to allow an upset of Senegalese proportions. And on home soil. You can chalk this one up to a German win and we might see Miroslav Klosse take a huge step towards the top goalscorer's Golden Boot prize, but more about that tomoorrow. The Hibernian Bet is quite sure about chalking this one up as a home win.

Ireland's 100,000 strong Polish immigrant population will be knocking back their Guiness to a very handy first match up against Ecuador. Yes, Ecuador. The team that made it's world cup debut in 2002 and finished last in their group. Their star player? Well, Southampton paid £3.5m for Agustin Delgado in 2001 and just one goal in three years saw him leave on a free transfer in 2004. Ecuador's top scorer in qualifying, he is thought indispensable. They are rank outsiders at 400-1 to win the tournament. Looks like the Poles should have an easy enough start. However, and please pardon the metaphor, but this game is a potentiol banana skin. I'm thinking a score draw, with some very disappointed Poles trudging the dark streets of Dublin come ten o' clock.

So thats our first fiver out of our hundred euro betting fund. Germany to win doubled with Poland to draw. The potential return is 22 euro for a stake of 5 euro.

Tomorrow..The Golden Boot bet...

World Cup 06: Pre Theatre Drinks

2006-06-06T17:39:00.000+01:00

Tonight: Tuesday the 6th of June is the time for the pre World Cup drinks. This festive gathering is almost legendary in the small circles around this writers social, well, circle. This year I am extending the invitation to the global world cup village. Wherever you are at 9pm GMT, take a moment to sink a beer of the country of origin of whose mast you are stapling your colours. ( there wont be many John Smith's bitters being ordered tonight!)., and take the time to discuss the reasoning behind your choice of Brazillian 'Brahme' or Italian 'Peroni' or German 'Erdinger' or Spanish 'San Miguel' or Dutch 'Heineken' or perhaps even American 'Samuel Adams'.

One thing is certain however. Those who choose Czech 'Pilsner Urquell' are bigger beer fans than they are football fans. Every year there's one...who knows maybe this year they could be looking at a last four finishing unless the USA spoil the party.

Enjoy the unofficial-official kick off tonight and tomorrow we begin the serious business of analysing the tournament to death as well as picking out the bets of the tournament. The bets will work on a pool basis. we start with a 100 euro fund and see if we can turn it into something a little more substantial. All the profits will be turned into beer and shared with anyone who can make the final in Dunshaughlin Village (just outside Dublin).

Good luck and enjoy the party...

Good Friday? Bloody sure

2006-04-11T14:47:00.000+01:00

At last, and it took a bank holiday to push this one through, the good people at the Premier League have finally figured out that the best night for football is Friday.

Good Friday, is not a public holiday in Catholic Ireland, but is in Protestant England. Go figure. The death of Jesus Christ is marked instead with the forced closure of any establishment that sells alcohol. So what normally happens on the best working day of the week, is all the poor slobs like myself, drive home in an upbeat mood with the car stereo on ever so slightly louder, and stop off at the local village pub and have two or three beers to welcome in the weekend. Not this week amigo. It's a day off for every barman in Ireland. Was Jesus a bartender?

What this prompts is panic buying on Holy Thursday. When the good Catholics are marking the anniversary of The Last Supper, every beer shop in the country gets mobbed by panic striken Irish people with trolleyloads of beer, prompting queues reminiscent of Soviet Russia. So, this Friday the beer will be taken from the domestic fridge and the welcoming gulp for the weekend will probably be enjoyed sans amis, by ones self.

So what better to accompany a Good Friday night-in then Manchester United Vs Sunderland live on the telly? The answer, absolutely nothing, and if I had my way there would be premiership football on every Friday rather than those 12 noon Saturday morning kick offs. But I have a sneaking suspicion that there's a bar trade conspiracy. The after -work-on-a-Friday market is a very lucrative one, and I for one abhor watching Football in a busy pub. I could easily see that market diminish and with the smoking ban already eating a sizeable chunk of revenue, the bar owners will cling desparately to the status quo on this front.

But let's not quibble about this and savour the best Friday night in ages. No crappy chat shows to take up the airwaves and force us out of our homes for the sanctuary of the pub. But be careful, beer is off the shelves from midnight Thursday. Over estimate your consumption for Friday and remember easter Monday is a holiday. More reason to celebrate the weekend with added gusto.

Good Friday my arse. This is gonna be great.....

It won't be long now till we march....

2006-03-30T14:36:00.000+01:00

From June 9th this site will be officially turned over to the 2006 FIFA World Cup. We will be hosting the 'bet of the day', match reports, previews and other liquorice allsorts. For the month of June every 4th year the curtains are drawn and the fridge devoid of anything other than multi national beer. Czech beer to cheer on Koller et al, German beer for Ballack's boys, Brahme from the land of Ronaldinho and Adriano, Nastro Azzuro by Peroni from the 'old country', Heineken for the Dutch and Ockicm for The Poles. Every country will be represented in the fridge except for one......

Engerland. Without a doubt the worst beer producing nation on the planet. Another reason (as if we needed one) not to support the engerlish in the finals. Their beer is piss! Fizzy urine laced with chemicals and 100 percent guaranteed hangover. Headache in a 330ml bottle. Every case of Carling Black bloody Label should come with it's free 32 pack of Solpadeine.

I have already nailed my colours to the mast for this tournament and will be getting behind my Dutch brethren, with a sympathetic glance shooting sideways every so often for The Ivory Coast, who's flag is the exact mirror image of the Irish Tricolour. I think Van Basten has the traditionally underachieving Dutch dressing room in hand and we should see, for the first time since 1988, a real desire from the team in orange.

This is also an attempt to foster cross border relations as the orangemen of Ulster draw their protestant roots from The Netherlands and yet nobody seems to care about this. Imagine an Ivory Coast v Holland final. The (sort of) eventual decider of what happens in the North. If Ivory Coast** wins then the North accepts Irish rule. If the Dutch take it*, then the IRA say "fair enough we'll leave yis to your own devices".

Let football pave the way for peace. In 1982 the whole country got behind Northern Ireland in Spain, even though the team was of protestant roots (It was even called The England B team at one stage). So I am calling on a similar effort to get behind the Dutch*. If we can all be orangemen for June then Marching season in July will be pointless. Let's all march together***.

*Holland are 12-1 to win the world cup
**Ivory Coast are 150-1 to win the world cup
***Gerry Adams to march on 12th July with Ian Paisley is somewhat longer odds

September 1979

2006-02-28T11:46:00.000Z

I don’t remember much of the actual Papal mass in Dublin 25 years ago. Our vantage point in section '24 purple' was only about two miles from the altar, and squinting through eastern health board spectacles didn’t reveal more than a huge cross. If you throw in the barely decipherable tannoy system coupled with the Pope’s broken English, the mass becomes a lot of “what did he say Ma?” But I do remember the build up for different reasons. I was only just entering double figures, but on that day I realized I could annoy the bejesus out of people.

September 1979, and for the entire month all the talk in the shops was about him. He was coming, himself, to Ireland, isn’t it great? It took a while for a 10 year old to assimilate what exactly was happening. My mother was not overly religious; she kind of pretended to be. Mostly out of fear that myself and my younger brothers would grow up to be godless anarchists or even worse, communists. But our next door neighbour, Missus Hartigan was just short of being God’s special envoy to Finglas and her boss was on the way.

Missus Hartigan was older than my thirty five year old mother, probably only in her early forties but she always seemed old. Her shock of silver hair was either in curlers or in some kind of permanent Don King-esque afro, she was small in stature but big somehow, robust is the best description. When it was announced that John Paul Deuce was coming to Ireland to say mass in the Phoenix Park she must have thought that God was personally rewarding her with the holiest of masses in what was virtually, her back yard.

Apparently getting to the Phoenix Park (which is roughly a half hour walk from our house) for a twelve o’clock mass requires a ten year old to be awoken at 5 am. Missus Hartigan had taken over our pre dawn kitchen and with the efficiency of Colin Powell was going about organizing my fear stricken mother and her own twelve year old daughter to prepare more sandwiches than ‘Father Teds” Mrs. Doyle could even imagine.

My mother had dumped me on the sofa in the living room with a bowl of Weetabix next to David Hartigan aged 8 ½ . We did our usual swapping of eastern health board glasses to confirm how screwed up each others eyes are and argued whether his cousin, John, would ever be any good as Arsenal’s full back. Our house was a Man United house, his, by virtue of his mother’s adoration of Dave O’Leary and the fact that her own nephew was on the books, was an Arsenal house. They had beaten us in the cup final that May and the wounds still smarted.

I wandered into mission control to slip my empty Weetabix bowl in the sink when I caught sight of what was going on. The magnitude of this was far beyond my comprehension. Huge yellow flasks were being filled with boiling water from three simultaneously boiled kettles (two electric ones and the backup one for the gas cooker in case of a power cut, which in the seventies was almost an everyday occurrence). Brown soda loaves were being carefully wrapped in tea towels. Tins of ‘Picnic’ pink salmon were being drained and spread onto buttered batch loaf. Even at such a young age I couldn’t help making a smart remark about loaves and fishes, “Is the Pope going to use these sandwiches to feed everyone?” One sore ear later I was ordered to get my duffel coat on.

My youngest brother was only 2 at the time, so his go-car pram was used for transportation of toddler and foodstuffs. A square sticker bearing the number 24 and the colour purple was slapped onto my duffel and out into the darkness we went to see the Holy Father.

It was bloody freezing outside. I don’t think my mother was fully awake because I can’t remember her saying anything, but then again Mother Hartigan was in full control. This was her gig. No two ways about it. We walked, teeth chattering down to the valley by the River Tolka to take the back road to Cabra and down to the park. I’ll never forget the scene when we came down into the valley from our estate. The sun was just coming up and a heavy mist was rolling in off the river, David and myself were walking behind the two women. As we descended to the valley hundreds of Catholics streamed in great lines out of the housing estates all headed for the valley. It was like a mass baptism, and unbelievably, on looking behind us, it was Missus Hartigan who was leading about 3 hundred people (mostly women and kids) down to the river! And I swear, as I live and breathe, when the sun came up and shone through her grey Afro, you could just about make out the halo.

By the time I was ten it had already become evident that Missus Hartigan and myself had a distinct personality clash. She loved structure and organization. Schedules and order. Her house was timetabled. Her husband was a probation officer so he worked regular 9 to 5 shifts and everything revolved around that. Dinner was on the table at 5:30pm. Everyone sat down every weekday for dinner. David was called in from being in goal at 5:25pm. And that was him in for the night. The Angelus was on at six. News at 6:01. Tea was at 7:30pm. Kids were in bed by 9 at the latest.

My father, on the other hand, drove the 37 bus and was on either “earlies” or “lates”. “Earlies” meant he started at 5:30 and finished around half two. “Lates” meant he started about 3 and finished at midnight. In those days, those were the only two shifts on route 37 and they floated through the weekends as well. On the day of JP2’s visit, my father was on “earlies” so he was driving his bus up and down the Navan road while his holiness was kissing the tarmac at Dublin airport. This alternating shift pattern meant there was no real routine in our house and this antagonized the hell out of Missus Hartigan.

I’d be eating my dinner with a Famous Five book in one hand while I was walking around the kitchen table. I never sat down. Ever. Even watching television I’d lie on the floor. I broke hundreds of chairs in school by either swinging or slouching on them till they gave way. I never closed presses or doors after me. Ever. I had too much going on in my head. I had homework to do, that half of Finglas was waiting to copy. I had books that had to be finished. I had football games to play and this weeks Roy of the Rovers comic to get through before I swapped it with Will Deasy for his “Victor”. I hadn’t time for little things. I lived on questions and solving mysteries and this is what annoyed her the most. Her beliefs were based on blind faith while in my world everything had to have a logical explanation.

The walk to the park was amazing. Once you got past the freezing conditions, even a ten year old could see that something was up. The leaves along Nephin road were all crispy and brown and the procession grew even more as we left Cabra, the singing of hymns had started, and my bet was that Missus Hartigan had instigated them. My old man drove by us on the Navan Road in his bus and beeped the horn and waved. It was weird seeing him at work, but everything about that day was surreal.

It was easy to find out where to go once you were in the park. They had marked the altar with a huge cross. It was getting more surreal by the minute. We were herded into little compounds that were associated to the colour and number on our stickers. The little compounds were wooden pens that were a cross between animal enclosures and a concentration camp. The two deckchairs that were hanging on the back of little Andrew’s go-car were unfolded and the women sat down for a cup of tea. The mass wouldn’t be starting for hours. The pope hadn’t even kissed the ground at the airport yet.

It was a good job I skied a ‘half-read’ Famous Five book in my duffel. This kind of boredom, waiting, was my worst nightmare, without that mystery novel I would have been sent of to an asylum before noon, and Missus Hartigan was reveling in this. “Now sit down on the blanket and be good”. For eight flipping hours! Then it happened. Not the arrival of the Polish Pope. The inevitable boil over of the years of simmering frictions between Missus Hartigan and myself.

She pulled out a small leather purse. “What’s that for?”. She was getting holier by the minute, “These are my medals, David and Maire’s communion medals, and my rosary beads”. “Why did you bring them?” seemed an innocent enough question. “To get them blessed of course,” any more pious and we were going to have to ordain her right here. “But aren’t they blessed already?” Again, a straightforward enquiry. “Ah! But only by the priest, not by the Pope”. Hmmmmm! “So, how do you get to be the Pope?” She took the bait. “Well, after you’re ordained you’re a priest, then you can become a Monsignor, then a Bishop, then a Cardinal and then The Pope. That’s the way it works”. She still didn’t see it coming. “So what you mean is, The Pope was a priest first, and the priest that blessed your medals and rosary beads could someday become Pope, so what’s the difference who blesses them, they are all only priests and the priest that blessed them could someday be Pope and unless Jesus blessed them it doesn’t rally make a difference, and…”. Halfway through this sentence, my mother moved her hand in vain towards my mouth, almost in slow motion. Her head shook from side to side while her lips were mouthing the word “No” but no sound was coming out. Missus Hartigan was purple, like Violet Beauregard in “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory”. God knows what would have happened if my mother hadn’t whisked me away for a time out.

I was picked up by my mother and we walked towards the toilets. “You shouldn’t upset Missus Hartigan, this is her day”, my mother said in her soft disappointed way. “I’m sorry Mam, but I just wanted to know why she brought her medals, did you bring my communion medal?” I offered as way of a truce. She couldn’t resist smiling down at me with my dog eared paperback when she knowingly gave me ammunition for the future “Nope. But ‘Famous Five go to Smugglers Top’ is going to be a hell of a lot holier than the Bible in her house”.

A true life lesson as Art triumphs over Economics

2006-02-23T16:17:00.000Z

Last night Barcelona handed Jose Mourinho's Chelsea FC their dinner. In every single aspect of the competition FC Barcelona gave the economic might of South London their biscuits and sent them off to bed. Good night and good luck!

This was the biggest advertisement for the beautiful game in all it's purest forms anyone could have hoped for, and I for one, went to bed smiling.

Let's look at the two teams, their tactics and the outcome in a little more detail. This is more than a football lesson, this is a life lesson.

Barcelona are the only top flight European football team without a shirt sponsor. They are a football club in every sense of the word. The fans elect the president. They are not listed as a plc on any stock exchange and they don't hawk the latest airline company or electronics multinational on their player's chests. The president is voted in based on how the club is performing on the pitch, not based on the stock exchange figures. Their ethos is grounded in football and fandom and as a reult they continually attract the style of player who revels in the atmosphere of the passionate Catalan crowd. Ronaldinho, Messi, Deco and Eto'o could have their pick of any club in the world. Much wealthier clubs like Real Madrid have all vied for their services but they play their football in Barcelona because of the structure of the club. They play for a football club not a team that is fronted by a football business. As a result, Barcelona have only one thing on their mind (because the president wants to get re-elected) and that is to play football!

Chelsea, on the other hand, are not a club built on the backbone of supporter power. They were quite literally bankrupt three years ago when their Russian benefactor, Roman Abramovich, bought the ageing whore and sent her to the plastic surgeon. With Abramovich's billions, Chelsea assembled quite literally a team of mercenaries from around the globe. Players who's principal motivation was the lure of the almighty Euro. Michael Essien, Didier Drogba, Aarjen Robben, Assier Del Horno, Ricardo Carvalho, Hernan Crespo, Shaun Wright Philips and Petr Cech all clambered aboard the good ship Abramovich, enticed by the soulless and single minded Jose Mourinho. The greatest evil ever unleashed on the game of football.

Jose Mourinho is an opportunist. A man who rose through the ranks of the football business from being an interpreter at Sporting Lisbon. He was marched out of Barcelona at one stage in his career for his attitude and arrogance. He is a man who has a single minded vision to get the result at all costs. He has no conscience. His tactics against the artistry of the Catalan visitors last night showed the depths of how low he would sink to get his precious result.

Firstly, he sabotaged the pitch. He continually watered a rain soaked Stamford bridge playing surface turning it into a quagmire. He felt that by turning the pitch into a mudbath he couldn't force the Spanish into mistakes. When the two teams took to the field of play last night, there was no field, just mud. He clearly instructed Assier del Horno to physically intimidate the young Argentinan magician Messi. In the first ten minutes, del Horno had physically abused the winger on at least 3 occasions. The fourth time saw the referee rightly send Del Horno to the dressing room. Barcelona were still too good for the bully boy tactics and even after going one nil down against the run of play, the artistry of Messi, Ronaldinho and Samuel Eto'o shone through against the hod carriers of South London.

Mourinho has taken away all individuality of the players in his team. he instructs them, not in football, but in his dour version of the game. He plays them as a collective instead of nurchering the individual talent into a greater vision that infects the entire team. It is Team Mourinho, a team built around one man's ego and another man's deep pockets.

He is ruthless in his criticism of defectors. Carvalho, Crespo and Robben have all suffered indignities at the merest hint of revolt. It is his way or the highway. He is a man too rigidly true to a system. He, has in effect, no plan B. Plan A, works against his week in, week out premiership opposition in England. But take the team to a different level. a stage where football is played at the highest level and he fails to step up to the mark.

Football like life is best played honestly and within the rules of the game. The arena is a metaphor for life and not always will honesty and style and grace prevail. More often than not the guttersnipe tactics of intimidation and brutality will edge the contest. But when the cream rises to the top and achieves something of beauty it is revered and admired throughout the world.

Last night we saw what can be achieved, and damn, it felt good

Poppycock or BS?

2006-02-10T14:41:00.000Z

Word of the day on Today FM on the drive into work this am was poppycock. I was rather amused by the origins. It's a word that's mostly associated with the more genteel crowd. The gentleman of breeding. Use it in a sentence and you'll immediately think of something like...

"Why that's pure poppycock Algernon!", exclaimed Lord Helmsbury, when his brother, the fourth Earl of Leicester, informed him that his wife, Lady Helmsbury, had been sleeping with the stable lad.

It's that kind of word. No, not really. It has, believe it or not, American origins. It was borrowed by the Americans from Dutch settlers. It was originally introduced as 'pappekak' which literally means 'soft-shit' in Dutch and it then presumambly entered the english vernacular via Dutch settlers in the USA. It's as much a cuss word as 'shit' is.

But you can't say shit on the radio.....

Gobshite Nation

2006-02-08T13:43:00.000Z

Somewhere between my stint on a Russian Trawler and Manchester United winning the treble, Ireland got rich. Stinking rich. And as a result everyone, overnight, turned into a gobshite!

How did it happen?

Socio-Economics is not my area of expertise, but it seems that everyone in this country nowadays is a bloody expert on the subject. Don't ask me how. I don't remember there even being a class in socio economics at any school I attended. One noted commentator, who's only talent is stating the obvious, even moved his area of expertise from financial advisor to socio-economic commentator, when his prediction that the property market would crash left him with egg all over his face. But, seeing as though everyone is having a stab at socio-economic commentating, the following is my 2 cents. Be warned though, this ain't gonna be pretty....

I grew up in a working class suburb in the 70's. My schoolteachers were 60's idealists who were held in a position of respect by parents who didn't have the advantages of the kind of education system offered now to their children. If you treat an idealist with respect, you will inspire him or her to be the best they are. So my generation have probably become the best educated generation in the history of the state. The only drawback in our education was the lack of diversity and multi culturalism and this, sadly is being reflected in the country today, as our uneasiness with immigrants is seriously impacting the way we live.

When we came out of second level education at 17 years of age in the eighties, there was NO future. Ireland was a far cry from what you see today. It wasn't a country of endless shopping centres and high rise IT companies. It was an urban wasteland of glue factories and boiler makers all laying off staff on a weekly basis. The country was finished. So everyone went to college. Everyone was poor enough to qualify for a state grant so you didn't pay fees. I was lucky enough to get part time work as a bus conductor to finance my living expenses, so we went to college to get more of an education.

Then when we came out and stuck our big toes for that summer in the big pool of the real world, and there was still nothing happening but doom and gloom. So some of us went back in to the collegiate womb. I eventually emerged from my education as the nineties were dawning. 1990, a bleak, bleak year. The only queues in the country were for Unemployment benefit. Cinemas were closing down. We were a dirt poor country. Everyone was emigrating. Then something happened.

Ireland qualified for The World Cup in Italy.

People who had been living in a grim day to day existence simply said "Fuck It". Ireland had qualified for the first world cup in it's history, and folks were going on holiday. For many it was their first time out of Ireland. But they went and they endeared themselves to every nation on the planet and the euphoria that gripped the country for those three weeks had a ripple effect. People began to feel good about themselves. Tourism went up and up, when Irish people go away they bring everyone home with them. There was working class families in Coolock hosting German families one week, Dutch the next and Italians for Christmas dinner. There was a sense of community. The media had a field day. This attracted the attention of huge corporations like Intel and Hewlett packard, who invested heavily. The workforce was the best educated in europe, the media spotlight was on the Irish travelling support in Italy, the government, in fairness to them, used this as a way to source foreign investment. Within 10 years we would become the jewel in the EU crown. But the downside is ...

The downside is, that it happened too fast. The average price of a 3 bedroom house in Dublin went from 40,000 pounds in 1990 to 400,000 in 2006. People had new cars. Disposable income. Credit cards became the norm. We couldn't take it in our stride. We started behaving like caricatures of rich people. We became class focused and would try to play golf. We were like the pigs in animal farm. We made, in short, arseholes of ourselves. And we continue to do it.

In short, unless this country hits a serious recession, there'll be no real Irishness left, we will become another corporate sponsored territory in the global multi national universe. We will be expected to behave like our corporate brethren accross the globe. Our political correctness will have to be aligned with the manual for GLObalCorp. We will have the same policies and procedures for everything. You will be able to travel from Dublin to Los Angeles to London without noticing a difference.

The future doesn't look bright for this country. You can't stand on the terraces at Lansdowne Road unless you have a corporate admission. You can't get up front at a concert unless you are a member. Membership, they say has it's priveleges. Me, I'm with Groucho Marx. I want out. Out of this soulless excuse for a country that keeps digging itself into a bigger and bigger cultural void. Out, of this smoke free, self gratuitous, avarice ridden cess pit. Out, of this logo-ed up society.

You see most of the corporate recruits don't remember it any other way. I do.

I want the old Ireland back. I want to be a poor country again. I want high taxes and butter vouchers. I want buying a record to mean something more. I want it to be a sacrifice again. I especially want it for the younger generation. I want the eighteen to twenty five year olds to be poverty stricken. I want them to wear secondhand clothes. I want them to have to walk to work on the morning before they get paid because they have no bus fare. I want them drinking generic brand lager from cans instead of designer alco-pops. I want them with a packed lunch. Because, let's face it, there's nothing more annoying than a rich twenty year old....

Solo-Electric?

2006-02-07T15:15:00.000Z

I saw Bob Mould play last week in Vicar Street. In fairness the only record of his I had really heard was 'Workbook', which was kinda okay. I was not familiar with the Husker Du or Sugar end of his career, so I went in blind.

I left after 50 minutes....

A solo performance started out with rudimentary strumming and shouting by Mister Mould, blending one song into another, crashing his acoustic guitar in a fashion not unlike the busker we passed outside on the street. A baldy angry middle aged man just didn't ring true. A distinct lack of honesty.

It descended into awfulness when his acoustic guitar was subsituted for a Fender Stratocaster. Now solo acoustic works. Sometimes. Folks like Beck and Bob Dylan and a few others can carry it off. But Solo Electric? Mental pictures of Billy Bragg keep popping up and they are not very pleasant.

We skulled the dregs of our beers and did a Snagglepus...

A truly dreadful show.

2006-01-20T13:47:00.000Z

I have many many CD's. I have the age old problem of storage and the new problem of miniaturisation. The mp3 has presented itself as a theoretical solution to this problem. But it's not for me. You see I like the whole package. I like the Friday afternoon trip to the record store on the way home. The Friday 'new release' day ritual (we get CD's in Ireland on the Friday before they are released anywhere else in the world, the UK only get them the following Monday whilst USA gets em on a Tuesday. I don't know why this is, but I'm not complaining!). Sitting at a desk and downloading the record from Itunes doesn't have that same "CD in the bag with till receipt" feeling.

So I won't be buying my music digitally

Ergo, my storage problem. I have converted the garage on my house into a second living room. It houses the music and the good stereo. The music is divided into CD's and records, but the shelves are full. The flatpacked racks are bursting at the seams so I'm going to have to cull the display stands.

So who doesn't make the cut?

I started by attempting to cull the records that I haven't listened to in a while. But that just went tits up. I found myself rediscovering records I hadn't played in ages and spent the evening listening to them. It had the reverse of the desired effect, making the cull more difficult.

I ended up with four Cd's and one record that were moved to a drawer. They were, Neil Young "Trans", Gillian Welch "Time - The Revelator", Oasis - "Standing on the shoulders of Giants" and Son Volt "Trace". I never cared for any of these records and bought them only on reputation.

The only vinyl to make the bottom drawer was "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", the album hasn't even got the right tracks on it, there's no 'Masters of War' or 'Talkin World War 3 Blues' instead there's some anti John Birch song on it....

To bet or not to bet..

2006-01-16T11:00:00.000Z

Over the weekend as my better half lay half asleep on our living room couch as I watched the washington Redskins take on The Seattle Seahawks in the NFl divisional playoffs I began to realise that I may be the cause of ending the underdogs run to the Superbowl.

You see I had backed them at 40/1 to win the Superbowl. The kiss of death.

The girl torn between sleep and sarcasm on the couch, was muttering comments at my frustrated gesturing in our living room. Comments like, "I would have called the manager and told him not to send the team out if you had've told me you were betting on them" and "Do us a favour Derek, go down to the bookie and ask him will he take a bet on my pay rise being less than 20 per cent this year will ya". I begin to take stock of my awful betting history.

Now I know everyone says this. But me. I have a list below of the most unlikely overturning of sure things in recent history.

1. Barcelona to beat Chelsea in The Champions League last year.
The Spanish were 2-1 up from the first leg and the best team in Europe. Ronaldinho was on FIRE. They came to Stamford Bridge full of life and full of confidence. Chelsea didn't look like they could take the step up.
Final Result Chelsea win 5-4 on aggregate.

2. AC Milan to beat Liverpool in The Champions League Final.
The Italians were 3-0 up at half time and with the meanest defence in the world. Celebratory beers and premature counting of winnings was short lived as Liverpool clawed back to 3-3 and won the game on penalties.

3. OJ Simpson to be found guilty.
OJ owes me his freedom as I, like every sane person in the free world believed he was as guilty as sin. However, by betting on this outcome I ensured his acquittal.

4. Al Gore to win the US Presidential election in 2000
You can say what you want about Florida and Jed Bush and missing votes. I did it, and I apologise to the entire USA for my meddling in their political affairs. Michael Moore owes me his career because I backed Gore to beat Bush.

I also backed Mike Tyson to beat Buster Douglas, France to beat Senegal in the opening game of the 2002 world cup, Liverpool to beat Wimbledon in the 1988 FA Cup, and France to beat Greece in the 2004 European Championships.

I now, never, bet on Manchester United games, and continually back England to win, as I did against Northern Ireland recently, now that was ten euro well spent....

World Class?

2006-01-06T10:35:00.000Z

Vidic and Evre are their names and both of them, we are lead to believe, by the propaganda machine at Old Trafford, are world-class defenders. Without spending too much time pre-analysing United's two new transfer window signings, I must constantly ask myself why neither is a midfielder seeing as though the Keane shaped hole in the centre is still the biggest flaw in the setup en ce moment.

But let us ponder the term world-class. What standard must one reach to be considered "world-class" at one's chosen discipline? And, what's the class immediately below "world-class"? Is it "continent-class"? Or "northern/southern hemisphere class"?

I'm not comfortable with the term world class. I never have been. It sneaked into the parlance of sports commentators unnoticed. Nobody questioned it's boundaries of qualification. Take the arena of music. Are The Rolling Stones world class? Not for me. Is Brittney Spears world class? apparently so, but not for me. Back to soccer, is Thierry Henry world class? Undoubtedly. Is Ronaldinho? Most definitely. Is Joes Cole? According to the popular conception, yes. According to me, no way in hell. What about Louis Saha at Man Utd? According to his paycheck, the media etc, yes. Again, according to me NO.

I want a clearer definition. I want the United press room to stop using the term world class when describing signings. It's too subjective. Tell us their records, what they've done, how committed they are, what type of attitude they have. Stop copping out and saying "He's world class". Ronaldinho is world class. Granted. But the last two years has seen too many world class strike outs. remember the world class players of 2003-05. Djemba Djemba, Kleberson, Bellion, and Howard. World Class my arse!

1962 - The Year of Nothing Much

2006-01-03T12:21:00.000Z

Watched a documentary about Ireland in 1962 last night. Cleverly intercut with what was going on in the USA at the same time. One scene showed James Meredith walking past racist protestors to become the first black student at the University of Mississippi. Then cut to a dance hall in rural Ireland. Pasty white faces in badly cut suits on one side of the sawdust floored dance hall. Equally pasty and freckled faces in homemade dresses on the other side. The band was a mass of freckles and wispy hair atop the pastiest faces you've ever seen. Everyone looked bored. Everyone looked dead behind the eyes. There was simply nothing going on.

America was undergoing a revolution. Kennedy was telling southerners to grow up and forget their predjudices, back home, predjudice just seemed like too much hard work. The IRA was on the verge of disbanding because nobody cared. They released a statement saying there would be no more border raids. They showed vox pop interviews about entry to the EU, emigration, and the last issue of the 'Evening Mail'. Nobody gave a shit about anything. The enthusiasm for TelStar on the other side of the Atlantic was phenomenal. They had ideas about everything from integration to space travel to rock and roll.

The Irish just shrugged when asked about anything...

And that's the difference. That's why so many went to America in the sixties. Plain and simply, nobody got excited about anything in Ireland. There was an overwhelming sense of boredom. There was fuck all to do. people just got pissed off with Lyons Tea, Mashed Potatoes and pork chops, so they saved up their few shillings and bailed.

The last word went to a twenty something year old who looked about forty. The interviewer asked him what he would do tomorrow evening now that the 'Evening Mail' newspaper was no more. "I'll probably buy the Herald" was his deadpan reply. Priceless.

2006 so...

2006-01-01T21:21:00.000Z

Happy new year from a dark, dusty, miserable, overcast and deserted Dublin City. The whole town is so quiet that a small hiccup can be heard for miles. Thank God tomorrow is a public holiday, so if it was a weekend tonight would be the equivalent of a Saturday Night!

This must be what heaven is like on a Saturday Night....

Happy New Year to any of you passers by and may your hangover be gone by now!

It's Listmas Time!

2005-12-19T13:29:00.000Z

Yes, we come to that time of year once again where we trawl through the cobwebbed recesses of our minds to name names and list out the highs and lows of the previous 12 months. All the newspapers and magazines have already started, I think Time hailed Bono and Bill Gates as their person(s) of the year. safe to say neither will be getting amention on my brief roll of honour. So without further ado...

12. White Stripes - Get behind me Satan
Every White Stripes' album comes along and I immediately begin my 'That's it, thats as much as they can possibly get out of two musicians'. Then they bring out a new one, that's bigger and better. "That's it, that's all they can get out of two musicians". Apparently this year I may have a point as rumour has it that a Detroit collaberation is on the cards between Jack White and my number 11...

11. Brendan Benson - Alternative to Love
After the breakthrough 'Lapalco' record, Benson has gone from strength to strength releasing a near perfect pop/rock/jingly jangly record that pushes all the right buttons. Great vocals, great production values and an all round great driving record.

10. Lucinda Williams - Live at The Fillmore
Lucinda 'Live'. At last. Take a deep breath and hear the beer soaked voice of THE first lady of whatever genre of country/folk/rock she is in. (I'm not that happy with genres, by the way). Top songs, culled from her most recent three studio albums that take a new life when played by the tightest rock 'n roll combo you'll hear playing in your living room this year.

9. The Eels - Blinking Lights and Other Revelations
Double album from the much underrated rockers. It's just I think their first really great record. I love the 'whatever happened to soy bomb' vocal delivery from Everett, I also think that 'Sweet Li'l thing' couldve been a hit if it was released as a single. A band that get's little or no recognition on this side of the world and who really should.

8. Illinoise - Sufjan Stevens
The record that has the dubious honour of being my first ever iTunes purchase. For those of you who don't know thi9s is part of a project to have an album for every state in the U.S. How old will he be when his final Hawaii album is being mixed? I agree, Illinoise is not for everyone, but it's a mixture of the weirdness, the long song titles, the lazy stony vocals, the subject matter (John Wayne Gacy, Jr. ??) and the cool tshirts that he sells at his shows that have jettisoned this record into the top 10.

7. Rilo Kiley - More Adventurous
"any asshole can open up a museuem". I love this line and the album has been a mainstay of the year. The LA four piece drift from country to folk rock to country folk to rockyrock to countryroots...aaaah whatever. It's an American record. they don't make records like this over here because they're not Americans. It sounds like America. It has lyrics that can only be sung by Americans, a great American record.

6. Bright Eyes - I'm Wide Awake It's Morning
Lovely record if not a little too 'early twenties'. Conor Oberst has a bit of a moany head on him for this offering but you can't doubt the beauty of the lyrics. Poetic, melodic and striking. Plus he isn't a half bad singer. It's also quite a funny record. Keep it up.

5. The Mendoza Line - Full of Light and Full of Fire
Sans Hoffman Mendoza Line is a lot more for being a lot less. It's more cohesive. In the past a Mendoza Line record could be like listening to three records in one. Peter Hoffmann is a fine songwriter and a great vocalist but his hiatus from The Mendoza Line has resulted in a major departure or the band. Now that there are only two main songwriters (Although Paul Deppler's 'Our Love is Like a Wire' is one of the albums highlights) and if you marry the two songwriters together and get one of them to sing the others song and have them work on a side project before the album (The Slow Dazzle Record is in the bubbling under section) it can only add to the intimacy. And this is an intimate record. Even though the subject matter can be a little disturbing (The oppression and physical abuse of Saudi women. Infanticide. Suicide. Paranoia) the sound and feel of the record is very intimate and personal. It's at times a hushed record (Settle Up, Zelda) and at times a sonic representation of cacophonous confusion (Morbid Craving). But I challenge you to find three better original compositions this year than "Catch a Collapsing Star", "Water Surrounds", and "Our Love is like a Wire" on the same record and written by three different people.

4. Arcade Fire - Funeral
Canada gave us Neil Young, Leonard Cohen and now Arcade Fire. It's a great record from a great band and we shall all wait with bated breath to see if they can repeat this stunning form with a follow up or will they go to the Mercury Rev zone. I hope they can do it, but I am a bit sceptical. I don't know why, let's just say I have a feeling. But enough of this pessimism, isn't it great to have a real guitar band back. A good old fashioned rock 'n roll band, not like U2 or all these other radio-easy-non confrontational, 'nice' bands. At last a band comes along that sounds like rock 'n roll and long may they continue.

3. Wilco - Kicking Television
This is easy. If you want a double live album of the best band in the world over the last ten years then go out, buy this record and throw all your U2 or whichever flavour of the month the radio is playing (Insert name of band) records on the fucking bonfire . U2 or (insert name of alternatively cheesy rock combo) are only the best band in the world because you haven't heard this yet. Without a shadow of a doubt, this ensemble of musicians Jeff Tweedy has put together are the best band in the world. I swear. Trust me.

2. My Morning jacket - Z
The keep on getting better. Swampier sound than before. Less of the anger and crashing cymbals and a lot more melody make this, far and away their best album to date. Vocalist Jim James has reinvented the band in a much more country tinged suit of clothes. It's hard to compare this with any of their other albums because it's such a different record. This is the band you should hear, think Dinosaur Junior crossed with Whiskeytown and The Flaming Lips and you get some idea.

1. Bob Dylan - No Direction Home
This had to be number one. It wasn't just an album, it was an event. A film, a book, a double album, a scrap book and a month of Bob Dylan in October. Martin Scorcese directed the four hour Bobathon that only took us up to 1966. It had everything. Interviews with himself, and those who were there, studio outtakes from the classic records, Bob Dylan's memories of arriving in New York, footage of him playing live at newport in the early sixties and that tour in 1966, in blazing technicolor too. We even had Bob doing an irish accent in attempting to mimic Liam Clancy.

It was a remarkable document and like all good Bob Dylan events it was part of a trilogy. Chronicles Part 1 was Dylan's autobiography, The soundtrack CD had all the studio outtakes and live performances, and then the DVD. Shown over two nights on BBC2. Television, for the first time in a decade meant something more than sports. It was the biggest musical and cultural event of this year and indeed any year. I'm sure the previous 11 entries on the list all saw it. I doubt Bob Dylan saw or heard the previous 11 entries. That's the difference.

Well that's almost it for another year. Those records that didn't quite make it onto the list were Slow Dazzle's - A View From The Floor, an offshoot from The Mendoza Line and a welcome departure courtesy of the Bracy's. Ryan Adam's 29. I've only listened twice and it seems Mister A is underachieving again, although I do have a soft spot for Cold Roses, which could have been a decent single album. Guero by Beck, which had the dust brothers' back but lacked the magic dust of Odelay etc. Prarie Wind by Neil Young was an vast improvement on Greendale and Silver and Gold but still left me reaching for On The Beach.

Sports wise, the high points were the United v Arsenal game at Highbury which was preceeded by the Keane-Viera-Neville 'tunnel of love' and the first half of the champions league final. The low point was the second half of the champions league final. Movies wise, I enjoyed Napoleon Dynamite, Garden state, Sin City, Batman Begins, The Motorcycle Diaries, Sideways and City of God. I hated War of the Worlds, and anything with Nicole Kidman or Jude Law in it.

So Happy Christmas to ye, that was my critical lookback at 2005, via whatever synapses survived the weekend.

Thank You Miss Cosmetics Girl

2005-12-14T15:46:00.000Z

I, like all other heterosexual males of my generation, am completely unprepared for this time of year. Every Christmas Eve at noon I frantically run around department stores in Dublin city centre randomly hassling girls working on cosmetics counters, trying to control my annual bout of Toureets Syndrome and swearing blindly that it will be different next year. Well guess what? It's next year already and nothing has changed.

My brethren in th' USA have it worse. At least we get a week off work to recouperate from all of this. In the USA, people are back at their desks on the 26th. Over here, the 26th is reserved for fried breakfasts, a return to the pub, a full program of horse racing in Leopardstown and a full english premiership programme. We don't get back to work until the day after the day after New Years Day.

Next week at businesses accross the nation, employees turn into college students with money. Lunch starts at noon and rapidly descends into an alcoholic haze by the time you pay a taxi driver outside what you suspect is your house. This trend continues until you wake up Christmas eve and realise it's too late to order christmas presents online and have them delivered in 24 hours, so, it's you and two hundred thousand other poor schmucks hassling the cosmetics girls again.

And, at last, I come to the point. The Cosmetics Girls, all sweet smelling and smooth skinned, all friendly and smiley, even when confronted by an unshaven thirty something year old, still vaguely smelling of a mixture of toothpaste and Guinness, looking desperately forlorn through bloodshot eyes, deserve an award. No, they don't just deserve an award, I'd give 'em all freedom of the city if I was Mayor. They stand patiently while you dig through your pockets for crumpled 20 euro notes. They throw in free samples (usually male deodarant!). They explain the refund or exchange policy. They leave you feeling like they are there to help you through the most trying day of your life.

There are angels living amongst us and though they might sport the name of a multinational fashion house on their bosoms, that doesn't make them any less angelic.

Thank you, one and all...

Backtracks and Big Cracks (In the Midfield)

2005-12-13T15:13:00.000Z

Here it is. The backtrack. United are out of Europe before Christmas. The long cold winter of our incompetence has begun. Then we play Everton and only manage a draw. Chelsea forge further ahead and now Liverpool are above us in the Premiership.

The huge Keane shaped hole in midfield is so so evident and the lacklustre team performances are stemming from a complete lack of organisation and leadership.

Enough! I can't talk about this right now. It's too upsetting.

Needless to say, disregard the entire last post, humble pie tastes just fine when taken with copious ammounts of Heineken

The Unthinkable

2005-12-07T16:45:00.000Z

Manchester United, should they fail to win in Portugal tonight, will bow out of the Champions League in the group stages for the first time. Up to 12 months ago, this would haave been unthinkable, but as a wise man once said "things have changed".

The Manchester United of 2005 are distinctly lacking the polish of previous incarnations. Key players have not been replaced (Roy Keane, Jaap Stam, David Beckham, Denis Irwin) whilst others have been allowed play too far beyond their 'sell by' date (Paul Scholes, Ryan Giggs) out of a mellowing sense of loyalty by a manager who, on the surface, would seem to have 'lost the plot'.

How else can you reconcile recent decisions. The sacking of his club captain and driving force behind the team. The stubborn refusal to revert to 4-4-2. The failure to secure the services of Michael Ballack in January. The plot is well and truly lost.

However, one of the problems of fandom is the optimistic demeanour that accompanies each new foray onto the pitch and tonight I'm seeing as a turning point in the fortunes of the new United. I'm predicting a convincing win with a performance to match the occasion. I think Wayne Rooney will, well and truly, arrive in Europe tonight. And furthermore, I think we'll win the competition.

Be sure to check back on these pages tomorrow to see me cleverly backtack from these schoolboy comments.

The Greasy Greedy Stones

2005-11-30T19:10:00.000Z

" What need you, being come to sense,
But fumble in a greasy till
And add the halfpence to the pence
And prayer to shivering prayer, until
You have dried the marrow from the bone?"
- September 1913 by WB Yeats

Fumbling in the greasy till indeed Messrs Jagger, Richards, Watts and Wood. This American Express mullarkey is evil. It's absolutely, totally, and unequivocably WRONG! There is no defense, the corporate spawn of the sixties version of the white english rythm 'n blues band will suffer an eternity at the hands of the satan of rock 'n roll who will sentense these 4 over rated schlockers to an eternity of Billy Ray Cyrus concerts or some equally sadistic torture.

Okay, that's the venomous rant section over. Now let me take a few moments to explain the case to the uninitiated. The Rolling Stones have announced a Stadium tour of Europe next summer. Now, the current incarnation of the band, affront a pepsi cola banner is not my cup of Lyon's tea (if they can product place, so can I). Stadium shows are definitely not my cup of Barry's Gold Label tea either. But for some people it is and this corporate rock event is only onsale to American Express card holders. When they've had their pick of the good seats, the show will then go on general release, and, wait for it, the seats cost $220 a pop!

I just got back from seeing Bob Dylan in an intimate venue in London for less than 60 euro and these clowns are expecting to get nearly 4 times that from your average punter to stand in a stadium! Come on fellas, are you taking the piss? In the case of the Dublin show it's not even a stadium, it's the phoenix fucking park. The biggest park in Europe. A field. Why? Because our biggest stadium only holds 30,000. Not enough greasy pound notes for the boys.

It's not enough that Ronnie Wood lives here tax free, (Ireland has an artist exemption from all income tax. Bono pays no income tax, Ronnie Wood pays none as long as he is a resident, a law designed for the struggling artist is being exploited by the rock star community living on Dalkey hill), he also has to take his pound of flesh from the people who are supplying his infrastructure, his police force, emergency services, schools, even his bloody bin collections.

I can't get over the sheer greed of this lot. How much money do the need? What do they do with it? A long time ago the spirit of this band was sucked from them and replaced by a soulless corporate entity that Bill Hicks, if he was still alive, would be plotting aterrorist attack against.

Yeats was right, Romantic Ireland, and indeed the global idea of the romantic, is dead and gone, it's with O'Leary in the grave..

How did they ever have an empire?

2005-11-23T17:52:00.000Z

I was in London on Monday and can't help but wonder how. I have been perplexed by this for years, but on Monday it never seemed more unlikely.

1. They are boring.
Excruciatingly so. They are not spontaneous, witty, or articulate. Their stories meander pointlessly and have no point or focus of interest. Did they bore the civilised world into submission?

2. They are serial conformists.
I walked around the side of the barriers at the Brixton Academy. The barriers ended after 10 yards and had to stop myself from jumping into the queue. In Ireland the queue starts where the barriers ends, but these people formed the most orderly queue up the side of the building and into the venue. Robotic and zombie like they poured through the doors.

3. They are far too polite.
Getting from the bar at the back of the hall to the spot where my friend was waiting for me to return with beers was Moses like. I uttered the words 'Scuse me' and the entire hall parted. In Dublin it's a jostle. Not a walk. I can imagine them colonising India. ' Excuse me chaps can we take over the royal palace please'

and the final nail in the coffin...

4. Their Beer is CRAP!!!
It's vile fizzy shite. Even their 'imported' beers are like lemonade. And it gives you the hangover from hell. It cuts the stomach out of you with ruthless abandon. Your head is so full of chemicals the next morning you feel like your entire body is radioactive. It's wicked. Pure wicked. How could any country put up with so much awful beer. How could one race accept this level of toxicity in their beer? And the pubs...well awful doesnt begin to describe them..

Oh and their superiority complex, although completely misplaced, has to be witnessed to believe. As another long time friend of mine once remarked. They're just jealous of everybody else....

Bob Dylan in Brixton Academy

2005-11-23T17:32:00.000Z

Myself and my good friend Mister Tiernan Henry of the Dundalk Henry's made the short Aer Lingus trip to London to catch Bob Dylan's second show at Brixton Academy. Apparently by all accounts it was the best show on the European tour so far with the 'experts' and 'stalkers' recounting that we 'got' a live debut of 'Million Dollar Bash' and 'Waiting for You', as well as The Clash's 'London Calling'.

What struck me was the air of bitterness that surrounded some of these serial Bob Dylan attendees. Apparently we were undeserved of such a setlist. We haven't put in our time you see.
Apparently you need to persevere through dozens of mediocre shows with murdered Tambourine Man's and Karaoke Blowin' in the winds before you qualify for a rarity. I must say I thoroughly enjoyed Mister Dylan's performance and the highlight for me was not the 'rarities' but a timeless classic - 'Visions of Johanna', that was overlooked by the lords of statistics.

I hope that he returns to mediocre setlists for the remainder of the week, and when he turns up in Dublin on Saturday he plays an entire show acapello and includes songs like 'Lily Rosemary and The Jack of Hearts' and 'Sad Eyed lady of the lowlands'.

But if that happens I fear I'll be beaten to death by pony tailed middle aged single englishmen..

Keane Shock Departure!

2005-11-18T14:18:00.000Z

Shock is too small a word. But at high noon today it was announced that Roy Keane was leaving Manchester United by mutual consent effective immediately.

Sounds suspiciously like a sacking doesn't it?

Roy Keane has been with Manchester United for twelve years , in which times he has been the heart and soul of the team and the only player with balls big enough to criticise from within.

For this he was sacked.

Roy Keane has gone on record to say that his favourite song is 'Positively 4th Street' by Bob Dylan.

He's probably playing it in the car on his way home from what was the biggest club in the world.

You got a lotta nerveTo say you are my friend
When I was down
You just stood there grinning
You got a lotta nerve
To say you got a helping hand to lend
You just want to be on The side that's winning
You say I let you down
You know it's not like that
If you're so hurt
Why then don't you show it
You say you lost your faith
But that's not where it's at
You had no faith to lose
And you know it
I know the reason
That you talk behind my back
I used to be among the crowd
You're in with
Do you take me for such a fool
To think I'd make contact
With the one who tries to hide
What he don't know to begin with
You see me on the street
You always act surprised
You say, "How are you?"
"Good luck"
But you don't mean it
When you know as well as me
You'd rather see me paralyzed
Why don't you just come out once
And scream it
No, I do not feel that good
When I see the heartbreaks you embrace
If I was a master thief
Perhaps I'd rob them
And now I know you're dissatisfied
With your position and your place
Don't you understand
It's not my problem
I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And just for that one moment
I could be you
Yes, I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
You'd know what a drag it is
To see you

Man Utd 1 Chelsea 0 / January Transfer Window

2005-11-08T14:10:00.000Z

In a week where Roy Keane came out and publicly critiscised players in an aborted MUTV interview. (Named names. Scholes, Smith, Fletcher, Richardson, Ferdinand and Miller. ) Manchester United replied with their best performance of the season disposing of the runaway league leaders at the theatre of dreams on Sunday afternoon.

A day where the Glazers opted to attend the Bucanneers defeat to Carolina, it just shows where their loyalties lie. A club going through their worst week in almost twenty years with a 1-0 defeat to Lille (who?) in The Champions League and a drubbing (4-1) by Middlesboro in the premiership, the Glazers show their true colours by not attending the biggest game of the season so far as the reigning champions come to old trafford.

Nice

We won, and my week off ended on a high. But it was only a short lived high. When I planted both feet firmly on terra firma and analysed the week as a whole we still don't look like serious competitors to Chelsea. Yes, we outplayed them. Yes, we reverted to 4-42 and outfoxed them strategically. Yes, they looked ordinary. But they'll go on to Newcastle next week and win again. And United? Well, I cannot see them performing like they did on Saturday week in and week out. The bottom line is..we are short of players.

I don't mean bodies. I mean players. In the good old days, we could carry a below form Andy Cole or a Jesper Blonqvest coming in for an injured Giggs or a Luke Chadwick wide on the right for a suspended Beckham or a David May in for Big Jaap Stam or a Nicky Butt sitting in the middle for Roy Keane. This was okay because we had the core of great players. Scholes at the top of his game was frightening, the hologram that plays beneath the number 18 shirt now only resembles the Ginger maestro. Beckham is gone and Giggs' pace is gone. Roy Keane is used more for his tactical and organisational skills than his box-to-box energy in days of yore. The central defensive unit is like an under 18's version of Stam, Pallister, Bruce, and even Ronny Jonnson.

The one thing we have seemed to have fixed, after 6 years albeit is the goalkeeping problem. Schmeichel has at last been replaced by Van Der Saar and the George Lazenby's of Barthez, Taibi, Bosnich, Howard, Paul Rachubka(??), Carroll, Raimond Van Der Gouw(??), and even Andy Goram have all well and truly been sent to the great trivia bin of goalkeeping lore.

We need to go out and get the likes of Ballack in January. If he won't come there's no point hanging around. He'll want to come next year on a free if the club starts looking good. January is crucial for signings. We need a creative midfielder. someone to open defenses the way Cantona did. the way Keane and Scholes used to. Apart from Michael Ballack who's out there? Deportivo's Aldo Duscher? Perhaps. he's way ahead of his team mates at La Coruna, and his ambition far outweighs a club in decline. St Etienne's Didier Zokora? I'm aprehensive about french players making the move to the premiership. For every Thierry Henry and Patrick Vieira there have been countless Louis Saha's, Antony leTallec's, Salif Diao's, El Hadj Diouf's, Bruno Cheyrou's, and Djibril Cisse's. Admittedly though, most of them ended up at Liverpool. Surely not Tomas Gravesen? Why not? He knows Rooney's style of play from his everton days. He's a good passer of the ball. But is he a United player? The jury is definitely still out on that one.

Here's my 2c. Steed Malbranque. Fulham's heartbeat. Imagine him at a good team. He has strength, vision and can play anywhere in the midfield. Just a thought.

It ain't no sweet smelling future by any stretch, but at least the news that the Glazers have dug deep into the mothballs and come up with a 25 million quid budget for players in January makes that flicker of light at the end of the players tunnel look a bit more like a halogen bulb.
It isn't the Abramovich searchlight, but it is burning that little bit brighter.

A distinct lack of compassion

2005-10-27T14:00:00.000+01:00

Sickening! That's the only word to describe a refereeing decision that has no place in the professional game that occured at Old Trafford last night, and, it was a decision for Manchester United, not against them, so what you are about to read is a criticism that I cannot see being repeated here very often.

In the early stages of the League Cup, the big clubs from the premiership get paired up against the lower league opposition, and it's a memorable experience for these lower league players, normally in their late teens, to compete in a big stadium and play 90 minutes against the Man Utd's, the Arsenals and Chelsea's. Sometimes, there's even the giant killing story, but mostly they are there for the experience. Last night, Barnet, a team fourth last in the English 4th division (Premiership, Championship, League One, League Two) came to do battle at Old Trafford.

After 90 secondsa hopeful ball was caught by Ross Flitney, the 21 year old Barnet keeper, with no United Player within 20 yards of him and his momentum took him a foot over the 18 yard line. The referee sent him off. The United manager Alex Ferguson was livid. The Barnet manager, Paul fairclough was incolsolable as his 21 year old 'keeper wiped tears from his eyes on the walk to the tunnel. Fairclough then had to substitute Louis Soares for reserve keeper Scott Tynan. The Referee ruined what should have been a memorable night for two young players.

United went on to score from the resulting free kick to rub salt into the open wound. The game was effectively over after 2 minutes. United went on to win 4-1 but that's not the point.

The point is that football should be about the spirit of the game and the application of the laws in that spirit. In this case a yellow card would have been more than enough and if we want to apply the letter of the law every time we don't need subjective referees, computer programs can do that. Referees are there to exercise judgement, in this instance, the complete lack of compassion resulted in a destruction of a contest before it even begun.

Mr. Richard Beeby, you are a disgrace to the refereeing profession..

Full story at http://football.guardian.co.uk/Match_Report/0,1527,1601465,00.html

Notes taken whilst supervising an exam in telecommunications

2005-10-26T18:31:00.000+01:00

These 8 people that sit before me are all irish third level students, yet only half of them are Irish. We truly are moving towards a multicultural society at last. 6 of the eight register their country of birth as Ireland. Out of that 6 there is a Luigi and a Said, both of their accents are more Dublin than mine. the remaining two are American and Polish and both are accompanied by the national newspaper, The Irish Times. These young students represent a cross section of our society today who have integrated fully with society and yet retain their ancestral culture. The only real shame is that their taste in music is abysmal. Eminem, 50 Cent, Black Eyed Peas..pfah!

The Irish of more than one generation, the Sean's, Sinead's and Siobhan's are more American than the American. It is them that has the poor taste. It is them that are the MTV generation. It is the immigrants who bring the richer culture. Last month in class someone confessed not to know what Ramadan was. She knows now. Ten years ago she would never have found out. They have been together as a class for 6 long weeks now and they have learnt to take the piss out of each other. Said waits for someone to tell him when the sun goes down and Siobhan throws him a bar of chocolate. The endless Godfather jokes keep getting squarely pointed at Luigi who, on one occasion, unfortunately brought his guitar case to class. Pavel, the pole, constantly reminds the others that he'll be travelling to Germany for the world cup and came in last week in a swiss football shirt to mark the end of Ireland's chances (he knew even though England did beat Poland in their last game no self respecting Paddy would turn up in an England shirt). The American, Charlie, gets constantly barracked about Iraq, last week Said arrived with his scarf around his eyes, crawled to Charlie on two knees and asked him to spare his life.

It is through humour that this ugly tendency for rascism will be quelled. And God knows, this Celtic race is pretty succeptible to humour, after all, look at who the Taoiseach is..

Cuban Baseball and the GAA

2005-10-26T14:45:00.000+01:00

Driving home last night with my head full of insomniacal mush that mostly kept driving at 'Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why do my window wipers always need replacing when it rains?', Newstalk 106FM, which broadcasts in the greater Dublin area, ran a piece about....

The World Series of Baseball.

And in particular, The Chicago Whitesox. From the Cuban perspective. They had a Cuban sports reporter on, who's name I didn't catch, (I think his first name began with an 'E'!), explaining that because of the communist regime, that there is a news blackout on the world series in Cuba because the Sox have two cuban players who are doing really well!

Well fuck me. Y'see, this is completely contradictory to the Irish mentality. When we have someone who does well in Sport, and when I say say sport what I am really saying is "Sport, and anything that could be stretched definition wise to include Sport in the same sentence" like 'Snooker' for example, and is remotely Irish (qualification under this rule can be stretched as far as having a liking for Irish Coffee's) it's on every newspaper, TV show, Radio show, for at least a month. Because we are normally crap at sports. We're not too bad at the Arts, but we suck big time at sports.

But the Cubans, they don't want the populace knowing that their boys are doing well in the pro's. Because, they don't agree with professional Sport, it's amateur only in Cuba, and that's the way it's going to stay.

Now we can identify with this regime. We have our own Cuban Dictatorship over here. Only we call it the GAA. The Gaelic Athletic Association. GAA is responsible for Gaelic Football and Hurling. Our National Sports. A Sport which draws regular crowds of 80,000+ to provincial and Irish national finals. Tickets for these games are like hen's teeth. The GAA have sponsorship deals with Guinness and Bank of Ireland. They are raking it in. Millions and Millions of Euro every year. The players however get a paltry mileage expense and go back to their job in the Opticians office when Monday comes around.

One or two of these players has seen the light in recent years and headed off to Australia to try their hand at the Aussie version of Gaelic Football. It's roughly the same skillset involved, but it pays. Funny how we never hear how they get on over there.

If Fidel wants to know how to be a little bit more subtle and profitable whilst ripping off the players who provide the drama. Give the GAA a call, they've been cleaning up for well over a hundred years..

Miserable but predictable / Christmas Shopping Conundrum

2005-10-26T11:39:00.000+01:00

The one all draw with Spurs at Old Trafford this weekend left a rain soaked Dunshaughlin Village under a bigger cloud than the cirrus and cumulus grey ones that blotted out the yellow sun from which I normally attribute my superpowers. First off I lost my first transatlantic wager when Jermaine Jenas struck a wonderful free kick past Edwin Van Der Saar as United continued with their season long strategy of pressing the self destruct button in the dressing room at half time.

The problem is Portugese. Carlos Quieroz the second in command at Old Trafford is assuming a more prominent role in the post Galzer power struggle. In this mornings guardian he is quoted as saying , "We know if we defend properly and keep a clean sheet there will be chances to score one goal and we can win the game. And after that win we can get another win. More wins lead to more wins and when you have a couple of 1-0 wins they start to become two, three or four. This is the story of the game."

If you listen closely you can hear the evil laugh that follows this outburst. Gone are the swashbuckling days of yore, when the cavalier knights of Salford, cut and thrust their way through defenses all over europe in the glory crusades that led to a European Cup in the Catalan capital. Gone I say, but gone forever? Please God NO!!

You score 2, we'll score 3. You score 3, we'll score 4. That was the battle cry when Ferguson held the reigns. Now it's more methodical, more scientific, more clinical. My ARSE! It's less artistic, less entertaining, less of everything. The word 'more' doesn't belong at Old Trafford, unless the word immediately following it is disappointment!

The curtailing of the adventurous spirit of the Ronaldo's, Van Nistelrooy's and Rooney's will eventually lead to one thing. Another mediocre season in the exhaust fumes of Chelsea.

It's almost Halloween, which means it's almost the changing of the CD in Dublin's retail outlets. Gone will be the easy listening of Norah Jones, Joss Stone, Sheryl Crow and the poppy ditties of Kylie Minogue, Mariah Carey and Westlife. In will be "The Most Irritating unloved and all time schmaltzy Christmas Songs of all time, from the 50's to the 90's and beyond..ever (except for The Pogues and Kirsty Macoll song)" which is available to buy on a 12 CD set from K-Tel, not available in stores, but have your credit card ready and ring this number now..yadda, yadda, yadda!

So this year, I'm not doing it. No siree Bob. Not subjecting my aural receptors to any Christmas Song's No! This year I will either get a small Hindu boy to stealth shop for my Christmas gifts, or better still, not shop for them at all. So how does one actually pull off this anti-consumerism coup!

The Internet is too easy. Going online to shop is still shopping. A cop out. The Post Office came to mind. You can buy gift vouchers for almost everywhere at the Post Office, but, you are still shopping. I know most females would not even attempt to define a visit to the Post Office as Retail therapy of any description but it is technically shopping.

I could become a non Christian. This turning of the back on the Catholic Religon was actually done decades ago when I sloped off from the morning excursion to mass every Sunday to play street football, so the actual declaration of Atheism wouldn't be too unexpected amongst most of my inner sanctum, but it would kill my mother! I'm not going to have blood on my hands in the quest for a Christmas song free festive season.

So What?

Answer is simple. Stay indoors with an imaginery flu from the 24th December to the 1st January. Go to the stores on January second when the poptastic stylings of Mariah Carey et al have been returned to the in store entertainment roster and buy even cheaper Christmas gifts in the January Sales.

In case you haven't twigged, this is all just bravado, I'll cave just like I do every year and give Marie a list and send her into town and then complain when she won't gift wrap them at 2am on Christmas Eve.

Deck the halls with....

Top of the table clash...with Spurs!

2005-10-21T13:58:00.000+01:00

Didn't think I'd be writing under this headline anytime this century, but, well, hats off to Martin Jol. The Dutchman has turned Spurs into a half decent team. Any side who has the foresight to bring an albeit slowing Edgar Davids to their team deserves to be where they are. My only disappointment is that a broken metatarsel prohibits Davids and Roy Keane renewing their decade long hostilities at Old Trafford tomorrow.

Instead, Spurs, one point ahead of United in second place will face an almost apathetic United team. The injury list is like a roll call with Giggs, Keane, Saha, Fortune, Solksjaer, Heinze, Neville, Richardson and on the mental disability list you could add Ferdinand, Silvestre, O'Shea and Fletcher. United don't look like a cohesive force anymore. The head of the beast has been severed by a broken metatarsel and the focus, drive, ambition and tanacity of the team has been replaced by a bunch of contract wielding apathetic prima donnas. Only Wayne Rooney and Park Ji Sung look remotely interested in playing football these days. It is for this reason, and the solidity of Spurs' defensive unit with Davids sitting in front of them, that I am predicting a dull drawn affair. Maybe a 1-1, but more than likely a nil all, bah humbug affair.

It is during these dark days of non stop TV football and constant reminders on how good Chelsea are that we of the red fraternity must sit in darkened rooms at 4:52pm consoling ourselves on the back of another Chelsea win and a half hearted drawn game up north. And I'm not just talking about United fans either, the fair city of Liverpool is under the same dark blue cloud, but at least they're used to it...

Champions League Injury hopes

2005-10-18T14:32:00.000+01:00

That time again as we lick our International wounds and combine all our 'goat staring' energies in a national telekinetic energy force to cripple England's World Cup hopes. WE now support every single team in Germany 2006, except, of course England.

Not one to wish physical harm on another human being, except if he has a fundamental part to play in either Chelsea winning the Premiership or England doing the unthinkable and winning the World Cup.

Step forward John Terry..

Now if he was to do his cruciate ligament a serious tear (I'm not looking for a broken leg here, so my conscience is clear.) in tomorrow nights champions league encounter with Real Betis, I don't think there'd be many tears shed in Dublin. Or for that matter, Manchester. Even though it would be a serious blow to the English assault on the world cup, I think United fans would put club before country.

Terry, I feel at this stage, is the only true irreplacable in Chelsea's line up. If they keep him fit, I fear the worse, and with him going from strength to strength with the national team I fear another 1966, and I ain't talking about another historic Dylan tour...

They should roll Betis tomorrow. Roll em like eleven drunks coming out of a 4am dive bar. It should be beyond simple for them. Manchester United have a tricky enough tie, without the boy wonder (Wayne Rooney) it's time for the ancillary players to take centre stage and Cristiano Ronaldo, it's your time. Your place. Your Carpe Dieum moment.

Liverpool's european form should see them dispose of lowly Anderlecht and even with Cisse's 12 misses per game average, he should get at least 14 chances so I'm predicting a 2-0 scouse victory.

Fingers crossed for injuries to any or all of the following. Terry, Lampard, Beckham, Gerrard, Carragher, Joe Cole. Later on in May we'd be looking for minor setbacks for Wayne Rooney, Rio Ferdinand, and Gary Neville. That should be more than enough to guarantee a non english world cup winner...

Dunphy for Manager!

2005-10-13T14:34:00.000+01:00

Last night after another lacklustre, actually, lacklustre is a gross understatement, from Ireland it is now blatantly obvious that Brian Kerr must go. He doesn't have the motivational skills to manage a team of athletes to their highest potential.

So who does?

What about Eamo?

He hinted at the end of last nights broadcast that he'd be interested. He has the coaching qualifications. I say give him a bash.

I didn't forsee turning this site into a campaign, but, hey, thats what it needs. So get posting and record your comments. We'll pass them on to the media and maybe the FAI can redeem themselves. Who knows, pigs may fly!

Judgement Night in Dublin!

2005-10-12T15:00:00.000+01:00

Don't play this down. There's a lot more at stake tonight than qualification for Germany 2006. If we don't get a play off spot tonight (and we need a win Mister Kerr, none of your famous draws will do tonight), we are being relegated to the doldrums. We become an also ran in FIFA's eyes and our seeding position for tournaments going forward drop a level, making it harder and harder to realise our ambitions for God knows how long.

A word of warning! Look at Northern Ireland. In 1982 and 1986 they qualified for two world cups, but successive failures immediately afterwards means they are ranked alongside Cyprus (who we barely beat last weekend) and Malta. Their groups have been tougher than tough since the 90's and now they are talked of in nostalgia terms only.

There but for the grace of God go...

"Completely out of sorts without the talismanic Roy Keane". How often have we heard that? Switzerland came from behind against France to earn a 1-1 draw on Saturday. They look like we did 4 years ago, but now we are "completely out of sorts wi..."

Compounding the scale of the task is also the injury to Damien Duff, add to this the dire loss of form of Tottenham's Robbie Keane, and the 9 journeymen who make up the numbers and we're in deep shit.

We're gonna need a heluva lot more than the famous Lansdowne roar to stem a confident Swiss team tonight.

I fear the worst, but then again, I always do...

A Return to the United of Old! / Cyprus Weekend

2005-10-03T11:35:00.000+01:00

I sat down, albeit with an unusually heightened sense of aprehension, on Saturday afternoon to watch United take on Fulham at Craven Cottage. Now, normally, I should be sans worry when a Manchester United team take on a struggling Fulham side in the premiership. But as recent posts have detailed, United's strict adherence to a disastrously negative 4-5-1 formation is grounds for grave concern.

Imagine, the communal sigh of relief accross the global village when immediately after kick off, it was glaringly obvious that we had switched back to the attacking winged 4-4-2 formation that every United fan had been campaigning for since the season's start in August. Then Fulham went and scored in the second minute!

What sort of God of Sport is mocking me! This was the very point Alex Ferguson had been consistently making. That 4-5-1 protects the defensive unit. He seemed, almost immediately to have been justified. However, I was determined to stay true to my beliefs, and, exercise what few United fans had been exercising in the last few months, belief. Belief in the proven system of yore.

It wasn't long before dividends were reaped. The game was so much more entertaining. Giggs and the Korean Park, had given us the width that was missing, whilst Rooney tormented a defense that admittedly was struggling from the time they went ahead. After 25 minutes we were level. Park was upended in the box and Van Nistelrooy cooly stroked the penalty home. Two minutes later Wayne 'Golden Boy' Rooney, put us ahead afetr a sublime build up of one touch football on the edge of the area. Hands were now placed firmly behind the head, legs were crossed and a smug 'I told you so' demeanour must have been evident on every United fan in Christendom.

Then Rio Ferdinand reminded us why he will never live up to his 30 million price tag by 'forgetting' to clear a simple free kick. Level again. But we were still great to watch. A draw against Fulham would not do, but we were better, we afforded the opposition more space, granted, but we exploited more space behind them. I'd watch this anyday, and it got better.

Rooney picked out Park's run down the right hand side with a pass that split the defense, he squared to Van Nistelrooy who put us ahead again. This is what football should be like. This is the way the Ajax team of the 70's played. This was how it should be played.

The second half brought more chances and the game could've ended up 8-7. It ended up 3-2 in United's favour, and it wasn't just the result that counted, it was, how my father used to say, how you played the game. Saturday was good.

Sometime contributer, and Totenham Hotspur fan, Timothy Bracy, could also be excited with the way Spurs went about their business against second place Charlton. Coming from 2-0 down to win 3-2, with Irish substitute Robbie Keane grabbing a late winner, definitely made for the match of the weekend, and Spurs are looking at their best season in a dogs age, and could very easily oust a particularly mediocre Liverpool team for a Champions League spot next year.

A break from the premiership now for 2 weeks, with Internationals taking centre stage and Ireland in need of two wins from Cyprus on Saturday and Switzerland the following Wednesday. The ramifications of non qualification would mean we slip down the FIFA seedings and would be hard pushed to qualify as 3rd seeds for the next European Championships and World Cup. The days of wine and roses may well be behind us...

Mixed Week / Return to Moore Street

2005-09-29T11:34:00.000+01:00

Manchester United had a week of mixed fortunes. On Saturday I sank to a deep deep depression after watching an impassioned Manchester United suffer their first defeat of this season at home to Blackburn Rovers. The tactiical brain behind the team, whether it be the stubborn old Scottish Ferguson or the bewildering Portugese assistant Carlos Quirez, sent out the, by now familiar, 4-5-1 formation as the crowd chanted 4-4-2 almost straight from the off. After going 1-0 down at half time I looked disconsolately around the living room looking for random pieces of furniture to take my frustrations out on. The minimilast interior design concept, pioneered by my girlfriend, in my house was obviously chosen with afternoons like this in mind.

After a seemingly better start to a second half that saw the reds pull it back to one a piece and look actually interested in the game, I saw a flickering light, somewhere in a distant tunnell. Paul Scholes in the United makeshift midfield blew out the candle with 10 minutes to go as he suicidally gave away the ball on the edge of his own penalty box. 2-1. Chelsea beat Villa and Arsenal only manage a draw with West Ham. We slide further behind the Blues in The Premiership race. There's talk all over the Sports Pages that the Premiership is over after 2 months!

Champions League week on Tuesday and Wednesday and a win at home against Portugese Champions Benfica, albeit a very very lucky one. We again surrendered a lead at half time making it 1-1 after 50 minutes. Only Ruud Van Nistelrooy's golden touch in European Competition saved our blushes at home against a weak Benfica. However, even if we are going through a rocky patch, Chelsea, were, for the first time looking vulnerable against an improving Liverpool side who forced a nil all. Painfull to watch, but effective. It will be interesting to see how Sunday's encounter of these two teams go in The Premiership where Liverpool's form has been nightmareish....

On a lighter note, I've neglected this blog for the past few days because I had been temporarily relocated to Dublin City Centre. I was working in an office just off Moore Street. Moore Street is a place I haven't been around since 1995 when I rented an apartment there. The summer of 1995 is legendary in Irish folklore, simply because it WAS a summer. We had sunshine and virtually no rain. Moore Street was traditionally the Irish market street, with fruit, fish, vegetable and catering size tinfoil stalls all manned by 50+ year old Irish women who have been working the same stalls for decades, and who everybody knew by name. There was Imelda selling fish on Wednesdays and Fridays, Missus Connolly's legendary cabbage and potato stall, Joan with her endless boxes of tinfoil and many more too numerous to mention. There was a chatter and buzz about the place and as recent as 1995, no real need for a supermarket.

Yesterday, the difference was incredible. Only a handful of the old guard remained whilst the shop fronts are gawdily adorned with mobile phones and cheap electronics, the character of the old market street has disappeared, the street is Moore Street, but virtually in name only. The population has become a lot more ethnic with Asian and African communities evolving eclipsing the traditional 'old' Dublin Market, which isn't a bad thing, and since less and less people from Dublin are ensconsed in the market tradition since the country prostituted itself to American Computer multinationals, it was inevitable that the shift towards convenience shopping and the 'supermarket culture' would become more and more prominent. It's just disappointing that not more of an effort was done to arrest the death of a street that literally fed myself and Marie for the best summer I can remember.

Repeated 4-4-2 Appeal/ Metatarsel Disaster

2005-09-19T15:12:00.000+01:00

The big game of the weekend was Sunday's 'old enemy' game between Liverpool and United at Anfield. And what a load of crap! Both teams have now moved to the 4-3-3 system with renewed gusto and as a result the entire game was virtually a 7 a side in the middle of the park. No room, no passing, two chances in 90 minutes. Utterly predictable 0-0 result.

I say again Mister Ferguson. 4-4-2. Please. Chelsea now go 7 points clear. A comfortable 2-0 win for The Blues at Charlton, make it 6 wins out of six and zero conceded. The bar has been raised again. We have played one game less and remain unbeaten, but the draws to Man City and Liverpool, don't mean two points gained but four dropped.

The other disastrous news from the weekend is that Roy Keane broke his 3rd metatarsel and will be out of action for 2 months. That leaves the Irish national team rightly screwed for the visit of The Swiss. It's looking like sayonara time for the world cup qualifying campaign, and even though it's not dark yet for Man United, it's definitely getting there...

4-4-2

2005-09-16T15:34:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, I was too 'emotionally tired' too contribute anything to this embryonic page. Alex Ferguson was beginning to wear thin on whatever tenuous nerve endings populate my shaking torso. Like most armchair SkySports customers and fans of Manchester United, Wednesday night was about as frustrating as missing last orders by 5 minutes. The game was there to be taken, but the means of getting the result was locked behind a metal grille. The metal grille in this instance was 4-3-3.

Chelsea won last years premiership playing 4-3-3. For the uninitiated that involves the following. From your 10 outfield players you are now assigning 4 of them to defensive duties. you have a left full back, two centre halves, and a right full back protecting your goalkeeper. Fine. The full backs take care of the opposing 'wingers' whilst the centre halves manage the two opposing centre forwards or 'strikers'. Simple!

Your midfield consists of 3 midfielders. Two to play centre midfield to take the ball from the defenders and distribute it creatively to your attacking players. The third midfielder, and this is where the flaw lies, sits in front of the back four to protect them from opposing midfielders coming through.

Straight away your team is now biased towards defending. Your three forward players are playing without wing support which can only come now from the full backs making 100 yard advances, which cannot be done quickly and/or as a counterattack. What invariably happens is that one or two of the attackers come back towards the midfield turning the formation into a very narrow 4-5-1. Chelsea did this last year and ended up winning most of their games 1-0. The conceded feck all goals and scored feck all. Overall, it was the most boring championship winning display since George Graham's Arsenal won in 1989.

With 4-4-2, you are trusting your 4 defenders to deal with the oppositions attack. You have two central midfielders and 2 wingers playing in front of the full backs. These wingers are crucial. They supply the crosses for your two strikers, and they turn defenders. If you turn a defense to face back towards their own goal, you immediately have them at a disadvantage, they can't see the runners coming in from the midfield so your passing options upfront increase dramatically.

That's how Man Utd used to play when they won more Premierships that any other team in history.Why change to mimic a negative Chelsea? It's not like we don't have any wingers? Giggs, Ronaldo, Park and Richardson are all well capable of doing the job. You only need 2!

I'm at my wits end. We have a difficult trip to Liverpool on Sunday at noon, and if the old enemy see a 4-3-3 (4-5-1) formation I can only fear the worst. Another 0-0 draw like Wednesday's display against VillaReal could send me over the edge. i don't know where the edge is, or what's over it, and I truly hope the depths of despair are not reached come 2pm on Sunday.

We need to start creating chances. We didn't against City last week or against VillaReal on Wednesday. Chelsea don't create chances, but they are expert in creating 2 chances in 90 minutes, taking one of them, and no one seems to have a clue how to break them down. We don't have the quality in defense that they do. we don't. But we do have much more creative players. Ronaldo, Rooney, Park, Scholes, Giggs. All players capable of turning defenses or playing a defense splitting pass, or crossing deftly to Van Nistlerooy, who will get you goals if you give him chances.

I'm not advocating we take the Real Madrid stance of "We don't care how many goals you score, we'll score one more than you", but please Mister Ferguson, can we attack down the flanks. Please.

On a parting note. Portugal, Greece and The Czech Republic were the 3 most successful teams in Euro 2004. Why? Because they were the only 3 teams to play with wingers. here endeth the lesson...

Champions league Tuesday Apology/ Wednesday Preview

2005-09-14T16:17:00.000+01:00

Well last night was a spectacular night indeed! First off an apology for the 'treble' bet. Chelsea did win and are still not firing on all cylinders but did enough to dispatch Anderlecht. Liverpool did however hold on for an away win, but it was a veritable onslaught by Betis in the second half. Rangers should have drawn with Porto except for a last gasp winner, so it was a close call, but this is a results game and 1 out of 3 predictions is just not good enough.

What about Real Madrid? A club in crisis. Overhauled convincingly by Lyon who were aided and abetted by two amazing Juninho free kicks. The look on Casillas' face after he saved a penalty to prevent a fourth Lyon goal said it all. Real Madrid have a real crisis on their hands. Defensively the look shocking and David Beckham's posturing is all very picturesque but not very productive.

My Artmedian Bratislavics put up a valiant fight against Inter Milan, but a newly bearded Luis Figo and co. put in a very professional display that yielded a 'more comfortable than the scoreline indicated' 1-0 away win. Milan's other team AC Milan, like Rangers, also left it late to despatch Fenerbahce 3-1 with 2 from Kaka and a Shevchenko penalty ending Fenerbahce's hopes of a dream start.

On to tonight, and bad news for Man Utd. Roy Keane is out till at least October 9th with a hamstring problem. A tricky away trip to Villareal tonight could scupper an impressive start to their season. Alan Smith looks set to deputise in midfield, but Utd without Keane always look lacking in organisation, not to mention volume based on pitch motivation. A draw would be acceptable with Cristiano Ronaldo also doubtful after the sad death of his father.

Arsenal are home to Swiss outfit Thun, who are rank underdogs in a group Arsenal should win. But we all know about Arsenal's poor European record. Tonight though, even without Thierry Henry, I don't expect them to slip up.

Juventus have started brightly in Serie A, and Patrick Vieira has slotted in very nicely in the middle of the park (they won 4-0 at the weekend) so the annihilation of Belgium's Club Brugge should be a formality. The glamour team of the tournament, Barcelona, begin their campaign tonight away to Werder Bremen in Germany. Werder have made an impressive start to their German Bundesliga campaign, entering the game on the back of a 5-1 victory at 1. FC Kaiserslautern on Saturday. They have scored 13 goals, and three wins, in four matches. But that's the Bundesliga for you. I sincerely doubt they'll be able to step up to the mark when Deco, Ronaldinho, Eto'o and co. take the field tonight.

That's the pick of tonights games, let's hope that the drama of last night in Lyon is repeated again tonight, only, not in Villareal where a steady 1-0 or 2-0 win will satisfy this Manchester United fan.

Tonight's treble is 3 away wins. Barcelona, Juventus and Ajax all to win and you should get slightly over 8/1 again tonight.

Champions League Preview Tuesday

2005-09-13T16:13:00.000+01:00

Roll out the Amstel cos it's Champions League night! Well, that's what the sponsors would have you do, personally, I can't abide the stuff, so I'll fly in the face of commercial sponsorship and roll out the Becks. After last years 'surprising' victory for Liverpool FC, my opinion that this is now a straight forward cup competition, and absolutely anybody who qualifies from the group stage can win it, has been reinforced further. Therefore it is essential to give yourself as much advantage going into the knockout stage by qualifying as group winner to avoid playing another group winner in the 'banana skin' first knockout round. You don't believe me? Ask Sir Alex Ferguson and be sure to mention AC Milan.

As always the first bout of group sparrings take place over Tuesdays and Wednesdays to facilitate TV coverage, and who's complaining? Only the millions of Champions League widows accross the Globe between now and May. Let's look at tonights fixtures.

First up is Rangers of Scotland versus the 2004 winners FC Porto. Porto are ageing fast. Rangers have the ascendency in Scotland as Celtic, their only rivals, slip further into the doldrums. This can however be construed as a bad thing for Rangers. The lack of competition in Scotland traditionally transfers into weaker performances by Scottish teams in Europe. Look at Celtics dismal run in recent years. Porto have never looked the same since the talismanic 'Special One', Jose Mourinho departed for Russian billions in London, and this game has draw written all over it.

PSV should despatch Schalke easily enough, but with the loss of their best player JS Park, to Manchester United in the summer, it's debatable how much of a threat they'll pose in a group that contains AC Milan and Fenerbahce who face each other in the San Siro. Milan, who have always been acclaimed for their superb defensive prowess will want a good start to the campaign after giving up a 3 goal lead to a very average Liverpool in last years disastrous final. However, their back line is ageing fast with only Alessandro Nesta coming in at under 30 (barely!). Their grandfather defense is made up of , Jaap stam 33, Cafu 35, Nesta 29, and the eternal Maldini 37! They do however offer the best all round striker in the world up front in the shape of Mister Schevchenko, who has also been courted by his countrymans millions in Chelsea who indeed recalled his strike partner Crespo from loan during the summer. In saying this I can't see Fenerbahce causing an upset.

In Group F Beware Olympiacos. I was impressed with their Greek resilience last time around and they might sneak into the qualifying rounds ahead of Lyon. I fully expect them to beat Rosenborg who will be lucky to get a point from this campaign. In the same group I expect Madrid to turn over Lyon in France. Robinho is a joy to watch, and his transformation to a Galacticos with Madrid may make for the most compulsive viewing of this campaign. Lyon have lost Michael Essien to, yes you guessed it, Chelsea, during the close season. Essien was far and away their best player over the past two seasons, and with the bumbling Gerrard Houllier now in charge as manager, I can see disaster with a capital D looming for the French club on the horizon. However, it could be worse for Lyon fans and Houllier could have succeeded in prising Djibril Cisse away from Liverpool.

Talking of the champions (still hurts to say that), they did end up in the toughest group, and I think a wake up call awaits them tonight in Betis. The wizardly wing play of the Spanish side may however be curtailed should Fernandez and Edu fail to pass fitness tests. Thankfully it looks like their star player Joaquin will shrug off a slight meniscus problem to antagonise the scouse defense. Liverpool's big problem this year is going to be scoring. Peter Crouch (all 7 foot of him) is expected to start up front and for the life of me I still don't know why Benitez bought him. I'm going for a home win here with a lot of scouse tears.

In the same group, and by far the most difficult, lie Chelsea. They have the relatively easy task of the visit of Belgian side Anderlecht. Chelsea haven't been firing on all cylinders this season, their inspirational midfielder Frank Lampard, seems to be preoccupied with fatherhood, whilst the mainstay of their success last year, wingers Duff and Robben, seem to be chugging a bit, unable to find that 5th gear. They will be too strong for Anderlecht though and this will probably play out as a drab 1-0 affair.

I've purposely left the most enchanting encounter till last and this is the game I'll be watching. The minnowest of the minnows Artmedia Bratislava entertain the legends of Italian Serie A, Inter Milan.

Adriano, Veron, Figo and co. take on the team that every neutral lover of the beautiful game has their hopes pinned on. It's the fairytale that we all want to happen. The little team from Slovakia against the Italian might. 23 years ago they beat them. Yes, 23 years ago they beat Inter Milan in a shock 2-1 win in the first round of the UEFA cup. Can History repeat itself? I really really hope so, but if I'm being honest, I don't think they have a prayer.

So that's Tuesdays match up. For my treble bet, I'm gonna go with Chelsea to win, Rangers to draw and Betis to win. You should get 8/1 for this. Tomorrow, I'll be back to eat my words, as always..

Champions League Fantasy Football

2005-09-12T13:12:00.000+01:00

Uefa.com have once again provided the engine for champions league fantasy football. It's free to play and for those wishing to pit their wits against myself and one or two others I've created a mini league within the game. Create your world beating XI at http://en.uclfantasy.uefa.com and the password for the mini league is

69057-11709

. Deadline for team submissions is tomorrow evening (Tuesday) at 20:30 GMT.

Usual rules apply, winner gets a beer from the losers next time you see him!

Weekend Premiership Review

2005-09-12T11:43:00.000+01:00

Well the weekend, as usual, offered a lot of promise and as Bob Dylan might say "Nothing was delivered". Manchester United have once again let me down. It was derby weekend in Manchester and a newly invogorrated Manchester City team under new manager Stuart Pearce, it has to be said, done a sterling job of containing a United team that looked, at their best, lacklustre. United were without their portugese winged wizard Cristiano Ronaldo due to the death of his father in Portugal and they badly missed the creative spark he provides. Alex Ferguson's bewildering team selections are still including Darren Fletcher. Why? I wouldn't let him play with the kids on the street. He bears as much resemblance to a premiership player as George Bush does to a competent leader. But the real problem with United was leadership on the pitch.

After a tough game midweek on International duty with the Irish, Ferguson decided to 'rest' his 33 year old midfield general. Another disastrous decision from the Scot. United went one up on the stroke of halftime with the only real consolation the Saturday afternoon derby offered United fans. Ruud Van Nistlerooy is scoring for fun, and clinically as he notched his fourth in four games. Then United decided to sit back and invited the inevitable scrappy goal to level the proceedings with 15 minutes to go. Ferguson then brings Keane on when it's too late. If he wants to rest his aging midfielder. Play him at the start and when we go two up, then take him off. A one all draw was probably, like Ireland and France in midweek a fair result, but with the premiership going to be so tight this year, we can't afford to be throwing away leads at home.

Elsewhere (you've probably guessed by now where my premiership allegiances lie!), Chelsea proved worthy of their starting price of 1/8 against Sunderland as they comfortable despatched Mick McCarthy's team 2-0, leaving both teams with their 100% records intact. Chelsea's 5th win on the bounce is starkly mirrored by Sunderland's 5th consecutive defeat after gaining promotion to the premiership last year. Just desserts for the manager responsible for sending Roy Keane home from the last world cup! Chelsea look like champions once again, their Rusiian billions may well be the difference again this year, their bench of Cole, Drogba and Duff could have beaten Sunderland on Saturday such was the dismal display of the northerners.

The best day of the premiership weekend was kept till Sunday when a Thierry Henry less Arsenal went down to a deserved 2-1 defeat to, wait for it, Middlesbrough. Middlesbrough! Without Henry they looked verry, very, blunt. The French goal machine picked up a groin strain against Ireland in midweek. (The Ireland v France game is certainly taking it's toll on the league this week) and is unavailable for up to a month! This couplewd with the inexperience of Senderos at the heart of defense must be a very alarming wake up call, for what is beginning to look like a very understrength Arsenal. Why oh why did they let Patrick Vieira go to Italy during the summer!

News wise this weekend, all focus was up at Saint james' park in Newcastle where Michael Owen made his much trumpetted return to the Premiership from Real Madrid. He still couldn't inspire an insipid display from his team mates who don't seem to relish playing at all these days. Manager Graham Souness, responsible for the devastation of Blackburn Rovers, when he was there as manager must take the blame for the disastrous start to the season. The players look listless and are playing without purpose and direction and even the introduction of a proven goalscorer failed to earn them nothing more than a one all draw with hapless Fulham. Their first point of the season was no consolation for the football mad Geordie fans up north.

Tomorrow we'll tackle the Champions league first round of group stage matches with Diego Forlan's return to Old Trafford with Villareal. Until then....

The Mathematics of Defeat

2005-09-08T10:38:00.000+01:00

When George Hamilton doesn't do it, Jim Beglin does! RTE's co commentary team of Hamilton and Beglin have once again conspired to hex an otherwise solid performance by the Irish soccer team as they went down 1-0 to the french. 4 minutes before Thierry Henry pulls a rabbit from his top drawer of striking party pieces, Jim Beglin opens his trap, "I don't like saying this but Henry is having a poor game!". In the tradition of George Hamilton who will take a final minute in Macedonia to his grave, Jim Beglin, in my book should get Carling Opta points for an assist. As soon as the curling Umbro sphere left the foot of Thierry it was only going one way, and Jim Beglin had no small karmic part in the only goal of the night.

Indeed the Irish team is flawed. Kilbane was non existent leaving only Roy Keane to contend with Zidane and Vieira. Ergo, there was very little forward movement from the centre. Damien Duff was marked out of the game, leaving Andy Reid to be the only wing threat to the french. Brian Kerr should have made changes sooner. Kilbane was redundant and should have been replaced by Finnan, swapping Reid into the centre to create while Keane held. Finnan gives you width and defensive competence to deal with anything Gallas could supply down the left and I think the manager must take the majority of the blame for the inability of the Irish to threaten.

So between the two of them, Brian Kerr and Jim Beglin, neither of whom kicked a ball, they conspired to hand the french a scrappy one nil win they didn't really deserve. The Irish didn't deserve it either. A draw, as the cliche goes, would have been a fair result.

Allez Les Verts

2005-09-07T16:50:00.000+01:00

In a little over 4 hours time we will know our own limitations. Ireland will more than likely have tasted defeat at the hands of the French, if the papers and the bookies and the blokes on the street are to be believed. But I'm taking a lot more convincing.

I hate to jinx them, but I'm kinda thinking we could win. No, not scrape a draw. We could beat them. Enough of this crazy talk Mister Keogh! What about Zidane, Makelele, Vieira and the goal machine that calls himself Thierry Henry! How can your Irish eleven of also rans from the lower reaches of the English Premiership and The Championship hope to compete with 'Les Bleus'?

Easy, we change the rules of International Football. We do what nobody is supposed to do anymore. We play like it means something!

The Dutch, The Italians and to a lesser extent The French have, in the recent past swapped the passion and fervour of the International game for the 10 million Euro contract with Reebok!, the Pepsi commercial sponsorsip deal and the bit part in a Hollywood movie. The International stage is a minor annoyance that they perservere with until they get their asses back to Real Madrid or Barcelona or Bayern Munich to get along with their real job, and don't think that their real job is anything to do with playing football! No, these 25 year old millionaires are marketeers and their product is themselves.

Greed has taken a stranglehold and what once was the jewel in the crown of the sport, the Jules Rimet trophy, The FIFA world cup, is now only a longer working year for those who are unfortunate enough to qualify!

Thats where the Paddys come in. Most of them are working at the bottom end of the payscale and they don't treat next summers excursion to Germany as an inconvenience but rather an opportunity to earn a bit of overtime. Greece proved it could be done at last seasons European Championships and the Brazillians, Koreans, and The Americans all used 2002's world cup to put themselves in the shop window. Indeed Brazil have done this for decades and the carnival that surrounded Robinho's transfer to Real Madrid only hammers home the point that Brazil needs a world cup to advertise their talents to make the European payout.

The poorer nations will always turn up trumps in the beautiful game and that is what makes it beautiful. The level playing field can be just that, and when the French aristocracy take on the Irish journeymen tonight at Lansdowne Road I'm hoping for a rain soaked typical Irish September evening, just to slide the spirit level a little towards this little island...