On the Path to Ruin

I wasn’t going to write this piece right now, but what do you know? I just did. Actually I should be attending a Real Analysis class at the moment, but at times human interactions (I mean twitter) can alter much around and about you. So this morning I’ve been online on the TL very early (it helps when your crush wakes you up) and we’ve been dissecting age discrepancies among African players, but that’s talk for another day. The other subject, as usual, was Arsenal and that’s going to dominate, once again, here. I may have missed the class, but what better way to atone for that than to do a real analysis of my own here? Right? (just don’t tell my dad).

On Wednesday, as if the Carrow Road capitulation wasn’t enough, Arsenal once again served us with an insipid and agonizing display in the Champions League at home to Schalke 04. And this time I was pretty much a part of this. That might have just been my worst decision of the month. Picture this; I had a CAT to read for that night which I duly opted to ignore, then there was also a better match on the screen, Dortmund v Real Madrid at the Westfallenstadion. The Madridista in me very much wanted to watch it, but I didn’t. Reason?Arsenal. I wanted to see my side set the record straight from the weekend. And well, they did it…in all the negative ways possible.

These days just by looking at the team line-up, I can tell whether we’ll win or not and almost get it spot on. What am I driving at? If I can do that, then how many more times can Arsene Wenger, the manager for 16 years manage that? Granted, we don’t share the same set of eyes, but surely some things are just plain obvious! I glanced at the line up and team formation just before kick-off and the only thing that stopped me from switching to the Madrid game was the fact that we were home at the Emirates. And of course, in some 42 games prior, we hadn’t lost to a foreign club in the Champions League. Gervinho leading the line, Cazorla just behind him, Podolski on the left and Ramsey on the right of midfield.My verdict (at the time…and still now)? Recipe for disaster! Why? I will explain, don’t worry.

It is every manger’s or coach’s prerogative to prepare and assemble his team adequately enough to get the required result for a match. This result almost always (about 98% of the time) usually is a win. Hence the saying in football, ‘you are as good as your last game’. So back to the game at the Emirates. I think is fairly obvious that Gervinho is not a striker, but rather what they call a wide man. Should he be leading the line? I don’t think so. Wenger thought and has been thinking so. And on the night he was as woeful as you’ll ever see a player at a corporate get-together match. Cazorla playing in the ‘hole’ is fine, but I’ll elucidate why it was the wrong decision. Lukas Podolski? I need a new paragraph for him. So, here goes.

I’ve followed Podolski closely since he made his name for Cologne as a teenager 7 or 8 years ago. And I may be wrong, but I think his designation at the time was a striker and still should be now. In the 2006 World Cup on home soil, Poldi announced his arrival on the big stage by staring for Germany partnering the evergreen Miroslav Klose in attack. I think he scored three goals and was the Young Player of the Tournament. He then went to Bayern Munich, flattered to deceive and was back at Cologne in no time. Anyway, I digress a lot. Accept my a thousand apologies. My point? Wide left is not for Podolski, not in a long shot. This is a player with one of the sweetest left foot in the game and has scored over 40 goals for Germany. If you play a left-footed striker on the left, he’s never going to score (a lot). And aren’t strikers born to score goals? Fine, maybe the gaffer wanted him to create chance for Gervinho. Wait, Gervinho??? And you wonder why the German fizzled very early in game? And if he isn’t to lead the attack, don’t you think a Robben-style wide right for him is a more productive option?

What about Ramsey? I won’t pretend that I’m his greatest fan, so probably this is a bit biased. In that game he sucked (for lack of a better word). Why? He was badly out of position. He was tasked with giving our attack pace and width on the right. We all know he’s not the quickest, so it was always going to be hell for him. Which brings me to Santi. At the moment, he’s the most gifted player we have and watching him pull the strings is, as they say, orgasmic. Even on the night it was evident that in the sea of mediocrity, he was the island of brilliance. But, Cazorla was ineffective, most thanks to the Ivorian’s profligacy. Unlike the others I’ve mentioned, he wasn’t exactly playing out of position, but given how the team was set-up, he would be best utilized on the flanks. I expected Podolski to be the central striker, Cazorla on the left Gervinho on the right and Ramsey linking the midfield to attack. I’m convinced we wouldn’t have lost given how Schalke was set up.

People have been talking about how greedy and out of touch the Arsenal board is, and that may be true. I find myself subscribing to that sentiment a lot too, but the fact is, we are a football club, emphasis on the football. When we lose a game that we shouldn’t be losing, it is not the board that the buck stops with. It is the players and the manager. As a fan I’m more interested in the result on the pitch than the books of accounts and boardroom politics. And on the pitch we’ve hardly been good enough…for years. When we have a manger that is supposedly among the best in the world, you can’t help but wonder. I mean, the best produce the best results, right?

In the first half of his reign at Arsenal, Arsene Wenger couldn’t put a foot wrong. He was just the best. Is he still? In 8 years, what has he to show for it, apart from the club’s overflowing coffers? Yesterday at the AGM he said that playing in the Champions League is just the same as winning a trophy. Well, not in so many words, but to that effect. You could tell a six year old all day that participating is same as winning and he would still think you’re an idiot. Hasn’t the great Arsene consigned himself to the fact that the players at his disposal (whom he brought to the club) are too poor to win anything? Well, if he has, it is true anyway.

Football has changed radically over the years. You need the best players to win things. These best players come at huge sums of money, if your academy is not Barcelona’s La Masia. When you settle for less, you have to work almost seven times as hard to harness their technique and make them as competitive as the others. Gooners, football is about two things: winning and not winning. It’s a choice. Arsene Wenger hasn’t chosen winning. If he is still is what Arsenal as a club needs, maybe I should just limit my life to the insurance math that is boring the hell out of me day in, day out.

Totally unrelated, I thought it wise to cap this up with this verse from Rudyard Kipling’s most famous poem:

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

Same Old, Same Old

It’s been quite long since I penned down something about my beloved Arsenal Football Club and this has duly raised eyebrows on twitter and other forums, both online and offline. Admittedly, this sabbatical of sorts has been deliberate. Why? Well, let’s just say interest is often fleeting, and we fanatics can be quite a fickle lot. Anyway, I’m back…or rather, circumstances have necessitated this.

Well, it’s that time again, when I write off, albeit heavy-heartedly, Arsenal’s title credentials. In fact, this has come even sooner than usual. Normally, I’m driven to do this sometime from November to around the festive season. Yes, you can call me the proverbial prophet of doom and I won’t mind because in real sense my other sober self has often called me this every season. And it hurts. So much. Even as I’m typing this away on my computer I’ve had to play blaring music if just to drown my soft cries. Anyone would find it hard to do a title eulogy of sorts this early in the season about their team.

Last Saturday we went to Carrow Road for what would seem to be a routine collection of three points without much fuss. I mean, prior to that Norwich City hadn’t won any league game and Arsenal didn’t look that bad either. On top of that, our number 10 and the jewel on the club’s crown, Jack Wilshere would be part of the matchday squad for the first time in a million years! Ok, not exactly a million years, but you get the drift, aye? Why wouldn’t any Gooner be (overly) optimistic? Due to unforeseen circumstances (some of which I engineered myself) I was unable to watch the match. I wasn’t overly bothered anyway because I knew we would win. Instead I followed it on the ever so reliable twitter or as I like to say, TLTV (Timeline Television). Of course Norwich won the game 1-0.

Even without watching the match, from the tweets that flooded my timeline courtesy of the vibrant Gooner Twittersphere, it was obvious that it had been an abysmal Arsenal performance. Granted, stand in keeper Vito Mannone was hugely at fault for Norwich’s winner, but really no one really put up a fight worth their weekly wages. They went, swam over like the slippery characters we’ve always known them to be and got beat. At the end of it, I knew damn well that I had missed nothing from absconding. In fact, I was convinced that I could direct a simulation of that display (without having seen it) and come up almost 95% accurate. It was that typically disgusting and over time I’ve sat through many similar agonizing 90 minutes that I thank the gods I skipped this one.

Some may say that I’m just being a sensationalist brat by declaring Arsenal out of the title race and probably they are right. Though I may ask, were they ever in it in the first place? Of course, the 3 months period between the end of last season and start of this one when Arsenal topped the log (alphabetically) doesn’t count. After 8 games, we are 9^th, 10 points behind table-toppers Chelsea. Of course there are still 30 games to go and as the cliché goes, anything can happen within that time. And I agree completely. Then again, it’s not only Chelsea that is contending for that title as there are two other heavyweights. Yes, they are Manchester United and the holders, Manchester City who are currently 2^nd and 3^rd on the table. What is the likelihood that Arsenal will pip all these three to the title? I’m a pretend actuary, but even I won’t dignify that question with a calculated probability figure.

Ladies and gentlemen, in as much as the English Premier League is unpredictable, the winners are just as predictable. From my EPL experience, most if not all of the time, the eventual league winners at this point of the season are usually in the top 4. You can quash this all you want but can you look me in the eye and tell me I’m lying? Oh wait, you can’t see me. The truth is, from now till the end of the season, the occupant at the apex of the log is going to be interchanging among Chelsea and the Manchesters. Don’t worry, I’ve not come back from the future, I’m just saying.

At the start of the season when the club sold Robin Van Persie to (of all teams) Man United, I instinctively concluded that we had eroded almost all the gains we had made last season. I mean, we finally had a goal-machine of title-winning caliber that with the addition of the silky Santi Cazorla we could mount a serious assault at the title. Then for 24 million pounds we gave him away to the Devil who had only missed the title by whiskers last season. Honestly I’ve spent days and nights trying to dissect this deal and make sense out of it but I’ve failed miserably. If I had the time and means, I would persuade the International Criminal Court at the Hague to classify this sale as a crime against humanity and open proceedings. It doesn’t shock me that at times I’d still prefer to watch Robin set up and bang in the goals for United rather than watch his ‘replacement’ Olivier Giroud stutter and flounder painfully. I’m sorry; evidently I’m not yet over the Persiecutor.

On our day, we can beat anybody. That’s a fact. Also true is that on a not-our-day, we can be bullied, stifled, be beaten and left for dead by anybody. Is that title-winning material? I don’t think so. United are weak at the back, but they have the deadliest offensive quartet in the land in Rooney, Welbeck, Chicharito and Van Persie. They may leak the goals in, but they can also score literally at will. Yes, their midfield is probably their weakest link, but they are battle-hardened and so it doesn’t really matter. Chelsea have probably the most settled defense (so far) and possess the most potent midfield trio of Hazard-Oscar-Mata who are never far from an assist or goal. They are so good that they are turning a woeful Torres into something decent. God knows what would happen if El Nino raised his game just a little. The champions City for me are still the team to beat. So far, they’ve been far from their best yet they are unbeaten, just 4 points adrift of the top. In due course they will shift gears and the others had better beware. Plus, with the Sheikh’s deep pockets, Mancini can always add what is needed in January to tie up the job.

But of course we can always pretend that we have a world class ‘keeper, a flying English winger who shouldn’t step up to center forward, an Brazilian-named Ivorian who is smashing as the focal point of our attack and an elegant French super striker who is still buying time before he won’t stop scoring. We can pretend that we have a Plan B to beat a United and a Stoke in consecutive weeks. We can pretend that we will win the Premier League. ‘Yes, we can’ is not Obama’s only, right?

I love Arsenal so damn much, but I’ve seen it all, I’m not even sure I want to witness another crash and burn rendition again. And it has a thick aura of inevitability firmly around it. Anyway, we will still make more money than all the other teams. That’s a good thing, yes? If Arsenal wins the league title I’ll be the happiest man in the world. True story. However, if they don’t, at least I’ll have seen it coming and prepared for it. Have an amazing remaining 30 league games, won’t you?

Tribute to Michael Ballack

Michael Ballack. Does it ring a bell? Well, if you are a football fan (of course, you are. That’s why you’re reading this) the name rings more than a thousand bells. He has quit the game of football this week. Actually I prefer to say that he’s retired from playing. Who knows, maybe sooner rather or later he might be back as a coach, manager or as a football administrator in a certain capacity. This is a tribute to this guy, and in essence, a longer than usual thank you note to this true great of football.

I’ve always loved all things German, well, apart from Hitler, of course. Where do I start? There’s their brands of cars, Mercedes, BMW, Audi, Porsche, Volkswagen. Then their female Chancellor, Angela Merkel, their language, their well-known efficiency, and of course, their football. Brazil and Italy aside, Germany remains the most successful team in World Cup history as evidenced by the three stars on their shirt’s football association’s crest. The German Bundesliga is currently the best managed league in Europe (and by extension, the world) and leads in match day attendance. Hence, Germany’s status as one of the game’s powerhouses isn’t in question. And that’s why so many big-named players exit the game but Michael Ballack is the one I’ve written about first.

From the year 2001, I developed quite a strong interest in the Bundesliga albeit partly attributed to Bayern Munich’s Champions League triumph the same year. At the time I was already an Arsenal fan, but English football was a luxury since satellite tv was damn expensive. The national broadcaster at the time incorporated a good number of German programmes to their line up and they in turn gave a wide a berth to German football, so, there. It’s always a detailed story – my love affair with German football – so I’ll skip other nitty-gritties…grudgingly (with a wry smile to boot).

Enter season 2001-2002. Enter Michael Ballack. And boy, did he take world football by storm! My first sight of Ballack was of this lanky number 13 midfielder with dark hair and boyish looks donning the famous black and white of Die NationalElf (German national team) in their 2002 World Cup qualifier play-off match away in Ukraine. The match ended 1-1, and yes, Michael saved Germany’s blushes with that decisive (well, it wouldn’t turn out that decisive anyway) goal. Ballack and co would go on to seal their World Cup spot with a comprehensive 4-1 win in the reverse fixture where he once again excelled. The girls had found themselves a new pin-up boy, the boys their new role model, the ladies their new crush, and the men their new bar-talk conversation starter. Deutschland had unearthed a new star. I had found a new hero, Michael Ballack. The only strange thing then for a ten year-old boy like me was why the commentators pronounced his name ‘Michael’ different (Mikael) to what I was used to (Maikol). Later though, after a few German classes, I would come to appreciate that variance in intonation.

That particular season, for me, remains the most exciting Bundesliga season that I’ve witnessed. The title race went all the way down to the final day of the season. And on top of that, it was contested by an impressive triumvirate of Bayern Munich, Borussia Dortmund and Ballack’s Bayer Leverkusen. With him scoring handsomely from midfield and Oliver Neuville doing the poaching for Leverkusen, expectations were high that finally the dug-out-smoking Klaus Toppmoller’s side would be the toast of the rest, but it wasn’t to be. They were outlasted by a Rosicky-Everton-Koller-inspired ruthlessly efficient Dortmund, by only a point. They may not have won the title, but they had won wide acclaim and adoration. And of course, Ballack was arguably the league’s best player. Talk of a more than burgeoning reputation.

The amazing Bundesliga run wasn’t the whole story, but just a slice of it. As lovers of the game we dream of and live for fairytale league and especially cup runs by teams that would best be defined as underdogs or whipping boys or also runs. In that season Ballack inspired Leverkusen to embark on and come to within a Zidane moment of genius of doing the improbable – becoming the kings of Europe. I watched them every step of the way and it was just thrilling. The 4-2 hammering of Liverpool in the quarters, the dramatic shock 2-2 draw against Manchester United at Old Trafford that Ballack starred in and sealed Leverkusen’s passage to the Hampden Park final were memories I’ll have to be killed to forget. Although Michael couldn’t inspire the Germans against a Zizou masterclass that night, they had outdone themselves.

During that summer’s World Cup in Korea/Japan, Germany would be represented by probably her least talented team ever to such a tournament. What they lacked in quality though, they more than atoned for in terms of dogged efficiency and high work ethic. And they had the best keeper in the world, Oliver Kahn…and Michael Ballack. With both minimal fuss and almost non-existent flamboyance, they marched on to the final against Brazil. Ballack would prove to be the difference with vital goals against the USA in the quarters and co-host Korea in the semis, but as fate would have it, he would sit out the final through suspension. How cruel the rules can be! The German’s without their inspirational figurehead would be no match for a Ronaldo-led Brazil and succumbed to a 2-0 loss.

Ballack would go on to move to my beloved Bayern Munich and in truth at the time we desperately needed him so as to reclaim our status as the top club in Germany. And that he did, driving FC Hollywood to two League and Cup Doubles before he bid the Allianz Arena farewell. As much as it hurt us that he was leaving, everyone connected to the club was just happy that such a fine midfielder of the highest quality had graced the club.

In the run up to the 2006 World Cup in Germany, Jurgen Klinsmann, then coach of the national team decided to take away the captaincy from Oliver Kahn and hand it to Michael Ballack. The move was rather unpopular (even with me) but if there was an individual best suited for the job aside from Kahn, Ballack was him. Klinsi explained that he wanted his captain to be more involved in the play hence his option of an outfield player, Ballack. I adored Kahn, but then again I felt it wasn’t that bad a change. Ballack’s World Cup campaign would be blighted by injury, but nonetheless, spurred Germany to a credible third place finish marred only by that extra time heartbreak at the hands of the Italians.

Michael Ballack would then move to Chelsea on a free, a move that I loathed. You never like it when your idol moves to a rival, but I guess he needed a new challenge abroad. His career at the Bridge started slow off the blocks, but for a big player like him it was only going to be a matter of time before he asserted his presence in the first team. His finest hour there, I think, has to be his header and coolly slotted penalty under pressure against rivals United as the 2006-2007 title race intensified. He almost single-handedly won Chelsea that match, but eventually they’d come short in the title stakes. Ballack would go on to win one more league title and some FA Cups, and then return to Bayer Leverkusen where he’s just hung his boots.

Every perfection is flawed, and Ballack, though not perfect, was more than flawed. His temperament wasn’t always the best. He wasn’t always far from a booking. Then there’s his affinity to the number 13, a number widely regarded as unlucky. If there was a Ballon d’Or for ill-luck, nobody would rival Michael. He played in both the Champions League and Euros final and never won any. Add the World Cup final he missed and it’s just sad. You wonder whether he looks back at those times and ponders what he might have done differently. Also, his international career ended on a low as he got ruled out of the 2010 World Cup and the captaincy went to Phillip Lahm. Thanks to huge turnover of talent in the squad, he would never feature again for Die Mannschaft. What a shame!

Five years ago, I wrote an article about Ballack for my school magazine and it catapulted me to prominence in the writing circles. This one is not for prominence, acclaim or fame. This was just about a young man paying homage to his boyhood hero. I’ve seen a lot of excellent midfielders all these years. I don’t mean to say Ballack was the best of them all, but for me, he’ll always be up there. Wish him the best in his retirement. Vielen dank, Michael Ballack. Thanks for the memories.

Of Passion...

Now various people have been asking me curiously why I have a keen interest in more than one football club side. Some even go to the extent of questioning my commitment to my ‘purported’ teams. Well, I’ve been thinking too and maybe they have a point. I mean, in my twitter bio there are at least six different clubs listed, obviously implying that I’m a fan of all of them. The general debate is whether it is actually realistic to support so many teams concurrently. My take on it? Pretty much yes, so long as it’s only one team per league. So I sought to set the record straight on the matter. Basically I’m trying to analyze what kind of a fan I am, and by extension, what kind of fans we are.

Arsenal

We all have that one football club that we are synonymous with, one that we like to talk about and watch their games more than the others. For me it is this English side based in North London. I’ve already shed light in another forum about my relationship with Arsenal, but it doesn’t hurt go over it again. Well in 1998 at the age of 7, football really got into me. At the time, my uncle Pat, who was a professional footballer in the local league, gifted me with a football and some Liverpool jerseys. Up to now, I’m not sure whether he wanted me to become a Liverpool fan, because funny enough; he never talked about the team. I remember looking at the club’s crest and seeing the bird (which bird is it, anyway?) on it and well, it failed to appeal to me. Yes, I would put on the jerseys and play in them, but that was just it; there wasn’t any more attachment.

Then one day I was just indoors, with nothing much to do. I switched on the TV and there was a match on. Since I didn’t know the identity of the teams playing, I decided to wait until the score prompt appeared on the screen. It was Manchester United v Arsenal. Actually I didn’t read the ‘Manchester’ part; I guess the name was too long. Basically I wanted to pick a side to support for the match. Now during those days I had this particular liking, addiction even, for bread. Where we lived there were two dominant brands of bread in the market, Sunblest and United. I really hated the taste of United, so when I saw the name ‘United’ on the screen, I inadvertently associated them to the bread. I desperately wanted Arsenal to beat them, just to feel good. And yes, Arsenal won the match 1-0. They had come good for me and for that I instantly loved them.

From then on I would go on to follow Arsenal intently, like nothing else matters. On average every 5 minutes I think about something Arsenal-related. It’s just an amazing feeling seating in front of the screen, watching Arsenal line out before a match. And during the 90 minutes, the range of emotions I go through makes it just the best life experience. Yes, I’m more than just a fan. Admittedly, this ‘madness’ on more than one occasion has cost me relationships with my girlfriends, numerous hours of study and even more tellingly, unimaginable amount of sleep time. Almost on a daily basis I read a lot of Arsenal literature from, tweets, emails, blogs, newsletters to my personal favorite Nick Hornby’s Fever Pitch. For now what I really want is for the club to win the Premier League trophy, nothing more. That day would undoubtedly be the best day of my life.

Gor Mahia

This is the club of my grandfather, my father, my uncles, my departed aunt and my mother. I was born into that heritage and growing up I’ve learned that it’s just a way of life that I’ve had to embrace without much of a choice. Kogalo, as we fondly refer to it, is based in Nairobi, but draws a huge chunk of its support from Western Kenya, where I have my roots. It’s a club with a rich tradition and the followers (we don’t say ‘fans’) take great pride in their team.

Nothing beats the feeling of being at a Kogalo match with other fans and taking part in the singing of the club anthem before kick-off. The atmosphere usually is charged and electrifying that for a moment it feels like it’s unreal. For a long time the club has been starved of glory, but there’s renewed optimism that the glory days are coming back. Thanks to the fact that my uncle played for Gor for quite a long time before retiring, I’m always going to have a special bond with the club. 

Inter Milan

This one surprises many people. Now generally when you follow the Serie A here, you’re expected to either lean towards AC Milan or Juventus, but then I’ve gone against the norm. Growing up I admired and adored the great Brazilian legend, Ronaldo. For me he was the model striker, the one who set the standard. When he moved to Inter from Barcelona, I was curious to know what he saw in Inter so I resolved to follow him. In so doing, I learned to love the club. Reading through their history and rivalry with city rivals, AC Milan, I got to loathe the Rossoneri even more. This reached crescendo when in the 2002-03 Champions League tie between the two sides, after a 1-1 aggregate score line, Milan proceeded to the finals on away goals rule. Now we share the San Siro or Giuseppe Meazza Stadium with Milan, so to lose on ‘away’ goals rule when we played both legs at home really hurt me to the core.

Other factors have also come into play to strengthen my love for Inter or Nerazzurri. For instance, the period of dominance post-Calciopoli which saw the club win 5 straight Scudettos (Italian league titles) and the overall improvement in the team’s quality gave me much satisfaction. The signing of Kenya’s MacDonald Mariga from Parma gave me reason to be proud of Inter and of course, license to yap and blabber unending about the club when with my peers. That said, the clincher has to be Jose Mourinho. I’m a huge fan of the Special One and his coming to the Inter hot-seat was a godsend, topped by the Treble of 2010, which in my books is up there with Arsenal’s Invincibles’ feat. That night at the Bernabeu in May, 2010 when Captain Javier Zanetti lifted the Champions League trophy remains one of my best football nights ever. Currently the team is in transition, but I’m optimistic manager Andrea Stramaccioni will be up to the task of making Inter an Italian and European force once more. And yes, I watch the English Premier League mostly, but I try not to miss any Inter game that doesn’t coincide with an Arsenal match.

Bayern Munich

Again growing up, I was exposed to many things German on TV through our national broadcaster, KBC. They aired German features, music shows and programs including news by Deutsche Welle TV (DW). In the course of this I got to know of Bayern Munich which is the biggest and most successful side in Germany. Once in a while too, I would watch Bundesliga matches and just loved the way Bayern played under then coach Ottmar Hitzfeld. One of the best Champions League finals I’ve watched was between Bayern and Valencia in 2001. It had non-stop drama and tension and for me by then it was quite a new but exhilarating experience. The joy when Stefan Effenberg lifted the trophy that night, well, was just awesome.

Over the years I’ve endured ridicule from my friends for preaching the Bundesliga and Bayern Munich gospel. Well, currently the German league in the best managed in Europe and growing at an amazing rate. I feel very much a part of that too. Even though Dortmund is currently the force to reckon with, I know it’s just a matter of time before the Big Red Machine returns to the summit of German football. The hurt I experienced for a whole month when Bayern lost this year’s Champions League final to Chelsea at home just further showed that I love this club so much.

Real Madrid

Once again Jose Mourinho was the main catalyst. I’m madly in love with Jose’s style of coaching and of course he always seems to win things. There’s also Cristiano Ronaldo. I heaved a sigh of relief when he left Manchester United for the Barnabeu, because I know he’s ridiculously good at what he does and Arsenal was often a victim of his brilliance unfortunately. So when he and Mourinho teamed up at Madrid, it was a match made in heaven that I just had to be a part of.

In retrospect though, what made me join the Madrid juggernaut was the apathy I feel for Barcelona. Barca’s ploy to rid Arsenal of our star players hasn’t gone down well with me. The bloody capture of my idol Cesc Fabregas last year was the straw that broke my back. What better way to counter that than to support their sworn enemies? I’m relatively new in the Madrid fold, but this is a bond that is going to grow stronger with time.

That’s my story. It’s true you can love more than one club, just like you love your children. Of course inevitably you’re going to be attached more to one or some, but the satisfaction you get from supporting them is totally worth it. I don’t know what a perfect weekend is to you, but for me when Arsenal, Gor Mahia, Inter Milan, Bayern Munich and Real Madrid win, that’s a perfect weekend that lays the platform for a perfect week.

Football...by Spain

Let us now praise great men. Indeed, congratulations to Spain, European Champions yet again. Always you hear before the start of a tournament that the reigning champions will go into the competition to try and successfully defend their title. Only very few teams in the history of football have done this, and last night, Spain added their name to this illustrious elite.

Now that the Euros is over, it’s time to mull over a few bits and pieces here and there especially for the tactic-obsessed like I am. What does Spain’s victory mean to European football and by extension, world football as a whole? Are they far ahead of the rest, or has the gap actually been bridged a bit? And what does it mean for the likes of Germany and Holland who were touted to have come to within touching distance of La Furia Roja or The Red Fury as Spain’s affectionately known? What about Italy, the beaten finalists? Italian football’s pride may have been firmly restored, but what do we make of their disastrous capitulation in the final? Is this the end of the famed catenaccio or will that humbling thrashing necessitate it’s return? Let’s set the record straight now, shall we?

In the just concluded tournament Spain has been vilified and widely condemned for their constant renditions of the ‘boring’ version of tiki taka football. You know, it’s funny how in the past boring football was always the defensive one, but now thanks to Vicente Del Bosque and his men, possession football has trumped defensive football in the boredom stakes. When I first heard the accusations of Spain being boring, it puzzled me. Then I watched their quarter final clash with France, and yes, I fell asleep on the couch at half time only to wake up when Xabi Alonso was dispatching that last minute penalty. Granted, the couch at home is that soft and cosy, but really that incident opened my eyes to the fact that the adored Spain style had become stale and boring. I always maintain, as my philosophy, that the right way to play the game of football is by passing the ball around among team-mates swiftly and in a forward direction then finishing by scoring at the best position where it is easy to. It seems that Spain had evolved their game into one of packing the midfield, passing the ball in a cycle, stifling the opponents attack, boring the opponent’s defence to death then nicking in that one goal to win the match.

At this point, even morals are called into question. How can a formula which in all fairness espouses the fundamental aspects of the game, possession and teamwork, be labeled as boring? It just doesn’t sound right, does it? What’s more, the formula has brought them success yet again. So do we say it is now wrong to win? Isn’t the game (and tournaments the world over) all about winning? Spain are not off the hook either in this question of morals (and the lack of it). Let’s be honest here, we all know that in a team’s line up, there always has to be at least one striker/forward. I mean, some (and I dare say, most) of us were attracted to the game in the first place by deadly finishers who demystified the sublime art of guiding the ball past the goalkeeper (and defenders too), past the goal line (yes, it’s becoming a burning issue) and into the net. Personally I can point out Brazil’s Ronaldo, PippoInzaghi, Giovanni Elber, JurggenKlinsmann, Thierry Henry, Gianfranco Zola as having sucked me into and sustained my interest in football. Then Spain out of sheer audacity (arrogance, maybe) comes up with a 4-6-0 formation. That is 4 defenders, 6 (yes, six) midfielders and absolutely zero (ok, well, not quite ‘absolutely’) strikers who then go on to safely deliver the Henri Delauney’s trophy back to King Juan Carlos I! In essence Del Bosque has just successfully shown than you don’t need strikers to win games and trophies. I hear voices in my head murmuring stuff like ‘oh hell no! Who the hell does he think he is!’ Seriously though, is this right? Do we ‘kill’ the Torreses, Llorentes, Pedros and Negredos of this world? On a personal level, I vehemently oppose this new paradigm shift, in the name of the gods of football that I believe in. Then again, to be honest, I’m in love with the 4-6-0! It works, it gives results! Maybe I should take some time off to make up my mind on the morality and practicality of this quagmire.

All said and done, the Spanish have raised the bar and set the standard to which every football side in the world, both amateur and professional, both junior and senior, both male and female, must aspire to match and even emulate. It is even plain ridiculous that a country like England, which invented the game itself, still goes into competitions with a rigid, uninspiring and weather-beaten 4-4-2. Then you hear English commentators say before every match ‘the midfield battle will decide who wins this match’ yet they have no midfield, just a bunch of four players playing in midfield. By the way this declaration I’ve just made is serious, very serious. Coaches and managers will have to change their methods, their way of thinking, their training and basically how they do things. From safety first, to gung-ho attack, to dogged defending, to consummate finishing, to even parking the ‘bus’, all these will have to be coalesced into one efficient system just like the Spaniards have done. And it’s simple really, just get the ball, possess it and enjoy yourself, the goal(s) and the win will just come. It is the ultimate football tactic and it is quite a shame it has taken all this long for people to realize this. Oh wait, probably they haven’t. Once again, let us internalize this: when you have the ball and keep it, then you can do anything with it, and even better, the opponent cannot do anything.

It is worth mentioning that Germany and not Italy, is the closest team to Spain, yet still so far from them. The talent is there, the technique is there and even the finishers are there. What is lacking is that confidence and patience to possess the ball for outrageously long periods of the match while maintaining their concentration to ridiculously high levels. The German Machine will get there, all factors staying constant, but for now we sing and dance to the tune of the Spanish guitar as we watch in awe and amazement the masters from Catalonia, Madrid, Basque, Andalucia dance the tango in the way only they know how to. We also remember to make a mental note to search and beg for this orchestra’s choreography notes after the show has stopped.

The lights go off. Well, not quite. Not before this. A toast to Spain, the team that has broken records, shattered myths, conquered Europe, the World, and Europe again. Indeed, this is the greatest team in the world. Bien hencho, La Furia Roja

The Munich Inquisition

The last few days have been hell to me and in truth I’m not so sure I’ve completely recovered yet. No, I haven’t been sick or unwell health-wise. If you’re still lost, I’m referring to Saturday’s UEFA Champions League final at the Fussball Arena, Munich. Good guess, I’m not a Chelsea fan. The events that transpired on the night left me sick, drained, dejected, disgusted, I could go on and on.

How Bayern Munich lost that match and the chance to become European champions for the fifth time still beats me. Seriously, how did that happen? You may be wondering why I’m getting this personal or to put it bluntly, why am I ‘catching feelings?’ Simple! I’ve been a Bayern fan for as long as I can remember and so in a way, I felt hard done by. I still do.

Back to the football itself, Bayern dominated possession, pressed and pressed, got the breakthrough goal in the 83^rd minute then totally lost the plot. Five minutes later, Chelsea clawed themselves back to take the match to extra time, where Arjen Robben contrived to fluff a penalty (and he’s perfected that art) and almost half an hour later, Chelsea were lifting the trophy, as I squirmed and winced on the couch in utter disbelief. I’m not going to begrudge the winners of the night, so congratulations to Chelsea Football Club, 2012 European Champions. I’ve been trying to figure out what went wrong, hoping that in future the same won’t befall any of my teams and I came up with this:

1.      Arjen Robben

Undoubtedly the villain of the match (and by extension, the season). The fact that Bayern Munich finished the season as the ‘almost’ champion in all the competitions they took part in is largely down to this Dutch attacker. Now, Robben when fit is one of the best players in the world. He has this ability to turn on the style with individual brilliance and change the course of a game at any point. Obviously he was expected to deliver and if he delivered in that final, this post would have been different. Somehow after wasting so many chances, he managed to throw away the penalty they had been awarded in extra time when the easiest and logical thing to do would be to bury it. That was the turning point and really, Bayern were never going to win after that. You would think that miss will forever haunt him, but no, he’s got plenty more, like when Bayern faced Dortmund away in the Bundesliga a few weeks ago. With Dortmund leading 1-0, Bayern were awarded a penalty in the 84^th minute and up stepped Robben and the outcome was obvious. He missed, and effectively ended any hopes they had of piping the champions to the title. I doubt whether Bert van Marwijk will let him take a penalty for the Dutch in the Euros even in a match they are running riot 6-0.

2.      Jupp Heynckes

When Jupp was named Bayern manager sometime back I wondered why they did that. Digging up a bit, I learned that he had won the Champions League with Real Madrid in 1998 so I thought, well, he must have been a decent coach. At this point though, I have to emphasize the fact that I’ve never really liked him. The final just further vindicated my dislike of him. With David Alaba and Holger Badstuber suspended, Heynckes opted to replace them with Contento at left back and Anatoliy Tymoschuk at center back. When I saw the line-up I had no problem with Contento but felt Tymoschuk shouldn’t have been deployed out of position in a match of this magnitude. I know he did well regardless, but just after Bayern had taken the lead, the manager made a substitute that did not bemuse me one bit, Daniel Van Buyten for Thomas Mueller. Really?

Surely if you have Van Buyten, a central defender and a potential goal threat, available for selection, why not start with him? In the match Bayern had like 20 corners or so without actually threatening. With Van Buyten a proven aerial threat, I can’t help but wonder ‘what if…?’ Still on the said substitution, you’re leading by a goal in a final with roughly only 10 minutes to go. You then take off your goal scorer and your most effective goal threat and replace him with a defender? Fine, maybe you want to protect your lead. Is that necessary though, when your opponents have been playing in their own half all along? At the moment I thought that having broken Chelsea’s resistance, Bayern would even pile more pressure as opposed to stepping off the gas and allowing Chelsea to up the tempo. And it was evident during extra time when the Bavarians had overloaded their defense and ran out of options and ideas due to the absence of Mueller.

By midway in the second half, Mario Gomez was evidently jaded and subdued, but rather than take the bold step and replace him with Ivica Olic, Jupp let him prolong his profligacy in front of goal. Yes, fine, Olic did eventually come on, but it was late and he was played on the left, where he was always going to be less than effective. Had he been the center forward, the Croat would have been more a nuisance to the Chelsea rear-guard than Gomez was, and who knows?

Jupp Heynckes is a respected manager and maybe rightly so. Do I think he’s right for Bayern Munich? Hardly. The fact that you’re in charge of the biggest club in Germany yet you’re outsmarted thrice by a rival manager in the same season shows you don’t quite cut it. Bayern were beaten 1-0 home and away in the Bundesliga then humiliated 5-2 in the DFB Pokal (German Cup) final by one team, Borussia Dortmund. Being on the receiving end of all that sure doesn’t make you a great coach, and I’m sorry but at Bayern Munich, that’s unacceptable!

I would have gone on but enough of spitting brimstone. People say that it had been written that Chelsea were going to win the Champions League, and they are probably right. What I’m not sure about is where this was written and who wrote it. Finals are won and lost, but also what you do during the game actually decides whether or not you win. I choose to think Bayern Munich bottled this one.