Month: February 2018

Football is not entertainment. It is sport and it is competition. It’s purpose is not to give pleasure to anyone by any means other than by victory. Everything else is nonsense. Neutrals have no right to be entertained by other teams. If you cannot appreciate the competitive aspect of two teams you don’t care about without the need for open, expansive, positive, attractive football, then you may be watching the wrong sport.  Sometimes football is bad to watch. Very bad. But its purpose can still be fully met. I can leave Tallaght or Lansdowne, or turn off the post-match analysis from Anfield having watched an absolute turd and be completely happy. Elated even. If I’m watching England play Slovakia in a qualifier, or United play the way they have under Mourinho, and it’s a boring game, there has to be something in there to watch – there is always a story. United playing boring football is a story in itself, so you can watch how 11 players you know are among the best can turn to such rubbish, yet still be second in the league – ahead of the absolutely “scintillating” Spurs and Liverpool! The answer is because they somehow contrive to win a lot and lose very little. Ditto England in qualifiers – a harder sell I admit!

The idea of football as entertainment is a Sky Sports invention happily trotted out by people when teams are not winning things, like United at the moment who are in the recently-disgraced runners-up spot and the even-more-recently derided position of needing any sort of home win to reach the last 8 of the Champions League. It is part of the marketing of the English Premier League. Your Sky or BT subscription sits alongside your Netflix or Amazon Prime ones and your Betfair account as another piece of the overall entertainment product. Some people show up to the games themselves thinking “this is going to be great”. Player x will do y coz I saw a clip of him do it last week etc. etc., while the hardened fans do what football fans do best and arrive in a state of 90% cynicism and 10% inebriation. Football is not entertainment. It is just what we do. It is part of our lives and the quality; the brand; and the style of how it is performed matters not a jot next to the importance of the results.

We Irish know that better than most. We have put up with absolute shite throughout long periods of my lifetime and did so because at the end of the day we were getting results. Some of the play under Jack Charlton was garbage although it could be quite entertaining as long-ball football goes. It was positive, particularly at home in the Italia 90 qualifiers where we scored 8 goals in 4 matches and conceded none, but there was zero style. It could be boring, particularly against Egypt, Romania and Norway in World Cups. Most of us chose either to ignore it, or accept it. We were in the Quarter-Finals – say nothing!!! Ditto under Trap and O’Neill. Every qualifying game was met with the usual moans and groans but as we were still in with a chance of getting to tournaments, we persevered. Unfortunately both took it too far and when it went wrong, it went drastically wrong. In Poland and then in Lansdowne against Germany, Trap undermined Irish soccer in a fundamental manner. Against Georgia, Serbia, and Denmark, O’Neill came close, using up all of the credit he had in the bank post-France. I don’t often hear Irish fans baying for entertainment from the national team, however, but we do look to exploit our limited talents and play in a manner that wasn’t set down during the “big lad up front” era of English football or the “defend, defend, defend” mantra of the aging Italian. We want results and history has shown we will accept whatever delivers them. Maybe we are quite the pragmatic bunch, or realistic at least.

But back to the Premier League and it’s relentless narrative which pits the entertainers against the pragmatists. I’m quite amused at the bipolar nature of the lumpen mass of “the fans” who scream for more entertainment from Jose yet scream for more pragmatism from Arsene. There is simply no contest. Whatever Jose Mourinho has done since 2004, despite all of his own professional baggage, is in a different world to Arsene Wenger. A completely different world. And no fan of Chelsea, Inter or Real has looked longingly over to the Emirates at the intricate manner of their latest demolition of a mid-table club, followed by an intricate collapse in a Champions League game and been envious. No, Arsenal have long since danced their way off the radar. Their league runners-up spot in 2016 was handed to them by Spurs Out-Spursing themselves towards the end of that silly silly season and should in no way be construed as a title challenge. Much like Liverpool in 2002. And to have failed to win a Champions League knock-out game since 2010 is laughable, given the praise of the Arsenal way we have heard for so long and given the resources available. Mourinho’s brand of football has brought 6 league titles in 3 different countries and one Champions League title since his victories with Porto in 2004. No contest.

So to the United fans, and moreover the neutrals, bemoaning what it going on, I say give over! To those bewildered by the Pogba situation, it doesn’t matter. There is only one winner in that situation, and the folks in charge of @manutd are just going to have to live with the fact that their no.1 marketing asset may not even be in the first 11 footballing assets as things stand. It doesn’t matter. If they finish in second place, behind the best team in a long, long time, and make the last 8 of the Champions League, Mourinho will have eclipsed Wenger again, and barring an extraordinary end to the European campaigns, Klopp and Pochettino. He will be enviously looking up at Guardiola – the great entertainer – but down at the rest, some of whom he may even regard as clowns.

I’m a Liverpool fan and we have been incredible to watch this season. Not for the entertainment value but for the sheer force with which teams have been swept aside at times. They have been incredible in the manner in which they have fulfilled those fundamental aims of the game – to win the match; to beat the other team in a competitive pursuit by crafting masses upon masses of goal-scoring chances and to score shed-loads of goals. Neutrals may agree that they have been great to watch but give me the 5-0 or 7-0 demolitions against Porto and Maribor watched in full by only Liverpool fans, over the manic scrambling victories that Klopp is only now beginning to consign to the past.

So here we are now, don’t even bother entertaining us, just fucking win the thing!!!

An Irish footballer. A typical Irish footballer. And one of the best of the modern era. A man out of time and out of place. A joy to behold. A gamechanger. A man who made Ireland tick. A man who some say deserved more. But a man who achieved great, great things in the green jersey. Some are lamenting how he was under-used and how he somehow never scaled the dizzier heights of the Premier League. Managers reared on a different football culture to Wes never really understood or appreciated him the way we the fans did. But to lament what could have been before his magnificent late blooming for Ireland is to miss the point. Celebrate Wes. Celebrate the fact that we saw him play 42 times for Ireland and celebrate that he was crafted not in English academies, but here in Ireland. In Dublin.

Wes is a football genius from the same playmaking Irish midfield lineage that produced John Giles and Liam Brady. As Dunphy bangs on about repeatedly and bloody correctly, he is the quintessential Irish street footballer who played rather than pushed his way out of trouble and created chances for others. His early days at Shelbourne saw him play a major part in a near-glory Champions League run, the likes of which today would get you Europa League group football and all that entails. The second round second leg in Tolka Park against Hadjuk Split was one of Irish soccer’s great nights, and let us not forget that it was 0-0 on aggregate at half-time in the second leg away in Deportivo. He won 3 league titles with that all-conquering side before heading to Blackpool.

It was in 2008 that Wes moved to Norwich and he has been a stalwart there since, crowning his club career with the Player Of The Year award last season. But it’s been his performances under Martin O’Neill for Ireland which is how most of us will remember him. And jaysus they were truly magnificent. His retirement from the international game is no surprise but it is a sad week for Irish football. He made his debut under Trappatoni in 2008 and was promptly ignored for 4 years, despite being a Premier League regular. Trap preferred Andrews, Whelan and Paul Green in there, even taking the latter to Poland despite having no club. Wes was just one of a half-dozen or so that the ignorant and arrogant Italian was not interested in using. It wasn’t until 2012, at the age of 30, that Wes was given his second cap and it wasn’t until Martin O’Neill took over that he became central.

Some of you may be confused by that statement given O’Neill’s tendency to underuse him and to also rely on a brand of football that’s the antithesis to one in which Wes excels. But the fact is O’Neill played him 40 times in his 46 matches. We’ll be discussing this aspect of both their careers to death forever, and yes behind the stats lie some really poor decisions by O’Neill. So instead I’d like to dwell on the two stand-out moments from Wes’s international career, which happened only a week apart – the goal against Sweden and the cross for Robbie Brady against Italy.

I wrote here about Ireland’s tournament in quite a bit of detail. I still remember the feeling when Wes brought us to our feet in the Swan Bar on that great summer Monday evening in Dublin. It wasn’t just a goal. It was a great goal, crafted with great art between Donegal and Dublin; between Sligo Rovers and Shelbourne. It was skillful and precise; a beautiful finish and a classic celebration. It stood for everything that the previous regime despised – creativity, courage, willingness to take the opponent on. And at the end of Seamus Coleman’s dribbling run was Wes and there was no doubt that he would score.

That was footballing courage on display. But it was mental and psychological courage that was required in Lille a week later. Brought on a bit late when a goal was desperately required against Italy, Wes got the chance. He was gifted an absolute sitter with about 8 minutes on the clock and he fluffed it. But unlike a fairly good proportion of players in that position, he immediately went looking for the ball – not in a Steven Gerrard “I need to be the superhero” way – but in a measured and controlled way. And christ was his cross to Robbie Brady measured and controlled. Another great goal crafted with sublime skill.

I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Wes in the flesh on countless occasions, as I’m sure many of you had. It’s an incredible experience to see how the entire dynamic of the Irish team and the entire game shifts on its axis when he comes on as a sub. Suddenly every Irish player on the ball has an option. Suddenly runs are made and players are found with great passes. Even throw-ins happen faster. Wes was the man who made these things happen.

Much is made of the Irish style of play, or lack thereof, but little is made of the reason for it. It’s down to ignorance. Ignorance dating back to the Charlton days, and the massive success of that era has shaded people’s views of our team, and has even convinced we the fans that we like the hellfire and thunder, the hoofed pressure game and last-ditch heroics. It’s bullshit and it has been instilled in us by outside influences. Charlton was no footballer – the polar opposite of his brother. But even under Jack, there was room for the likes of Houghton, Roy Keane, McGrath and Ronnie Whelan. Martin O’Neill is a man reared on the English way, a man who phenomenally battled his way up through the leagues and through Europe with Celtic. He has many, many positive attributes but his football style is basic. Trappatoni was a complete write-off in this regard. Mick McCarthy got it; Brian Kerr certainly got it and even Staunton probably got it.

The “it” is that we have always been defined not by big centre-forwards; not by lumpen centre halfs; and not just by long-ball football. Our greatest teams always revolved around the little lad in midfield or on the wing, or a tricky forward player. Ray Houghton and the way he never stopped running; Damien Duff and his silky wing-play. Robbie Keane and his ability to outfox the best in the world. Even in defence, Paul McGrath and David O’Leary dribbled their way out of the back more often than they lumped it. And let’s not forget Steven Ireland’s moment in the spotlight and how that could have been. Or Andy Reid for that matter. These are typical Irish footballers. Today we look to Daryl Horgan, Robbie Brady or Seamus Coleman. Let the Rugby have the private school lads built like barges; let the GAA have the rural lads and the 6-foot giants and artless brawlers of the towns and cities; Irish soccer can have all the lads who can run rings around you with the ball at their feet with guile, precision, and that beautiful form of scrappiness that only this game can bring out. Long-ball football is an English style not an Irish style and Wes Hoolahan epitomises that.

Wes Hoolahan; one of only 12 men to have scored for Ireland in a major tournament. One of only 6 Dubliners to have done so. A great Irish football career – the type of player we want all our kids to aspire to – humble, polite, grateful, creative, courageous and the most enjoyable player to watch in many many years. It’s a moment to salute everything he gave us – from Tolka Park to Paris, thanks Wes.

 

Yes indeed let’s talk about the number of foreign players in the English Premier League and across the elite leagues of Europe. Let’s jump right in there. But I want to talk about this issue properly – And when I say ‘foreign’ in relation to England, just to avoid the obvious and boring riposte, I mean beyond the traditional sources for English football, i.e. the UK and Ireland. Anyone who equates the current Liverpool team where only 4 of the 15 players who have started more than 10 of the 26 Premier League games are from England, with the one from the 80’s with 4 Irish internationals, a few Scots and about the same number of English as today, is being frankly ridiculous. As such, and in my view, Ian Harte’s use of the term “foreigner” last week was perfectly acceptable. Those who wanted to know what he meant knew what he meant. And he has a point. His point may be anachronistic in today’s global world; it may hark back to a ‘football’ that no longer exists; and at its worst plays into the hands of the little Englander and petty Brexiteer too readily. But it is a point that should be explored properly, mainly now because it is one which is no longer the exclusive preserve of the Mersons and Harry Redknapps of this world and I want to talk about it, get your feedback, and I have nothing in common with those blinkered old men.

Let’s start by asking the question – What is football for? If it’s entertainment, why do we show up knowing a match will be crap? If it’s escapism, why does it exist everywhere we turn? If it’s about community, why do we support foreign teams? If it’s about sporting spirit, why do we turn a blind eye to our own teams cheating? The truth is that football is about all of these things, and moreover it’s about the combination of these things which adds up to a whole far, far greater than the sum of its parts. But where does it come from; what is the true heart and soul of the game? And as someone on the cusp of 40, having lived through the pre-Sky era all the way to today’s Oligarch era, I think I have a decent understanding of what’s good and what’s not. (Playing ‘Seven Nation Army’ after a goal is scored is an abhorrent abuse of the crowds right and power to lift a team, for example.) And in my view, I still feel that football, even at the highest levels, is about community. Despite attempts which have been made in the past, and I’m sure will be made again in the future, a club still plays its home games in its home stadium, even if they have moved location at some point in their history. Bricks and mortar are required. The road from Milltown to Tallaght was a very rocky one indeed for Shamrock Rovers, but they are rooted there today. Liverpool treated some neighbours very, very badly over the years, but it was because they had plans to expand locally and not to merely disappear to the nearest motorway junction to build a new stadium free from restrictions. Many clubs have taken the latter route and have lost out on matchday experience as a result. But they’ve almost all stayed in their cities, towns and suburbs. Football, therefore, by necessity is about place, and moreover a particular place – your home ground.

And in Ireland, we should have that understanding better than most. Every weekend throughout the year the GAA and their incessant media ram this down our throats, usually by way of comparison to the English Premier League (they never reference the massive community aspect and voluntarism of Irish soccer, across the board from those giving support to schoolboy clubs every week all the way up to those helping stage Champions League qualifiers, ah no sure that wouldn’t suit the agenda). But the first half of what they say is usually true. The rigidity, almost dictatorial nature, of the GAA in this regard is not something I would ever contemplate for soccer, but there is some merit in at least basing it on such structures.

Football was of course based on similar structures from the outset. The most famous expression of this was Celtic’s 1967 European Cup winning team all being born within 30 miles of Parkhead. That was not a shocking statistic then. As a child in the 1980’s, it raised an eyebrow slightly when I first heard it, mainly because I wondered why no Irish or English played for them. Today, for any club in Europe, from Real Madrid to Dundalk, such a scenario would be simply ludicrous. The world has become so much smaller in the 50 years since; globalisation has taken a firm hold as the driving force of business, sport, culture and in pushing environmental concerns to the background and there is no escape from this.

To focus on the clubs, however, is to miss the most important point. While the clubs were the focus of their communities and where the best players in the area ended up, with a few imports from other regions and the odd other country – most significantly being the influx of Irish players to England particularly from the 1950’s – it was each national team which was the ultimate expression of community. The best players from each club were brought together to form an XI to represent the country. And most of these players were playing in the best teams in that country. Amsterdam was Ajax. Ajax, Feyenoord and PSV together were Holland, providing 17 of the 22 Dutch players for the 1974 World Cup; Johan Cruyff could be added to that list as he had moved to Barcelona by then.

In most cases more than 3 clubs were represented, as most countries did not have the same “Big 3” as the Dutch did and still do, but there was always a spine of top clubs represented, with those players usually being among the best at those clubs. This cannot be said now. How many of the best 3 players at top English clubs today are from Britain and Ireland? City – Sterling? United – none. Chelsea – none. Liverpool – none. Arsenal – ah we’ll give Aaron Ramsey a shot. Spurs – Kane and Alli, with Eriksen, Vertonghen and Lloris fighting for the final spot along perhaps with Dier.

So what I hear you say. The argument about foreigners in all leagues, but especially the English leagues, can only count if there is a problem. So what is the problem with the above. Does it matter that Real Madrid and AC Milan are no longer bastions of Spanish and Italian footballing excellence? Who cares if half today’s Ajax squad are not Dutch? It’s the way of the world. Look around your workplace and look around your streets. Football is merely reflecting that and there is no way that I believe economic migration is not beneficial for destination countries, in the same way that the Premier League is a much higher quality league than Division One was in 1984, when Liverpool won their 4th, and England’s 7th, European Cup in 8 seasons.

But life is not like sport. There is no international competition for the best accountants, software developers, architects or plumbers. There is no Roofing World Cup as far as I know, and there is no European Auditing Championships, at which Ireland as a nation must compete (thank Christ). There isn’t even a local league. Sport is different. The IRFU make absolutely no bones about this when a player sets sail to foreign shores. Forget about them. On the other hand, Rugby does make quite the mockery of international eligibility even when compared to the FIFA Granny Rule, but the point is that few bat an eyelid at these transboundary transgressions in that code and the GAA don’t have to worry about it at all.

And that is the point. It’s not a numbers game. This is not a Proper Football Man argument Jeff and it’s not a backwards approach to the global game. It’s about questioning the status quo. And beyond that it’s about questioning the motives behind the status quo. Because football today may be about all of those things mentioned earlier, but it is of course, for those with all the power, all about money.

International economic migration patterns ebb and flow. Ireland can attest to that with massive changes in my lifetime, even over the last decade and a half. Economic fortunes rise and fall and a country’s attractiveness with it. We accept this as it has been the way of humanity since we first started to migrate several millennia ago. Football is different. It appears to be immune to normal economics, particularly with so many clubs no longer requiring to be financially viable in order to be successful, as billionaires merely pump more cash in. They do not give a flying one about the working classes of Moss Side and Merseyside. They are American Vultures who live off Government bailouts; the broken backs of their own thoroughly degraded underclass; and the loose labour laws of parts of Central America and Asia, or they are Middle Eastern oligarchs with all that entails in terms of business practice, human rights and how they view 50% of the world’s population.

They want this. They want the 1% to be even smaller. They have taken English football and turned it into a playground for the global elite and they have rendered the connection between the corporate-box stands and the surrounding terraced houses more and more tenuous. This isn’t about there being too many foreign footballers or foreign managers and how it’s too hard for a lad from Drogheda to get to the top 4 anymore. This is about the game itself. How the hell do you raise your son or daughter to love a game that takes so much for so little in return? Yes I want to see players like Steve Finnan and Jamie Carragher raising the European Cup again. I want to see another Roy Keane in my lifetime, like I saw Ronnie Whelan and Liam Brady before him. That’s not too much to ask. That’s not unreasonable. But as long as the bubble stays inflated, and as long as, unlike any other sector of the economy, European elite football, remains driven solely by money unfettered by normal rules of finance, we will not see it again. And in my view that means we are staring into an abyss right now and it’s very very difficult to see how we can pull back. The English league we grew up watching, and the one which was an intrinsic part of the development of all of our great Irish international players is completely dead. What will replace it? If the English FA cannot get it to function for their own failing international team, what hope is there for Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland and Wales. The influx of players and managers from outside Britain and Ireland to England, or of foreign talent to any league in Europe, is not a cause of any problems in the game. It is merely a symptom of the same trend we see in economies across the world in all sectors – Globalisation and agglomeration. Money brings talent; talent brings success; success brings more money, and the cycle which began in earnest in the late 1990’s feeds itself and has us where we are today. It is time to acknowledge this.

The little Englanders of the game can moan all they want but the reason we have Pep on top of the table with Ederson in his goal, and not Mark Hughes with Joe Hart, is the same reason these people have jobs and yet another media outlet for their ill-informed thoughts – Money. And money voluntarily handed over to them in large numbers by the poorest in society.

I don’t know what the solution is, but I’m fairly certain that this is a part of it.