So Wolves have pulled off another giant-killing act this season, and yes, sure I'm pleased (particularly as Spurs-supporting husband said we had 'no chance' - he didn't put it quite as politely as that, though). But now we need to start beating some of the less glam teams if we have any chance at all of staying up. I still think we can do it.
I got an email this week to my website (narinderdhami.com) from a girl who likes The Beautiful Game books and wants to join a football club. She said she was having difficulty finding one, though, so I pointed her in the direction of her local FA. I'm hoping girls' football continues to grow, despite the credit crunch and all the financial cuts that are being made - it'd be a shame to see it all collapse.
PS: Sorry, I almost forgot there that apparently 'women can't understand the offside rule'. Better go back to knitting tea cosies.
Thursday, 10 February 2011
Wednesday, 9 February 2011
Unexpected Football Outbreak - Dan Tunstall
Something strange has been happening recently at the Walkers Stadium, home of my team, Leicester City. After years of functional, grinding, long-ball play, football has unexpectedly broken out.
Really, I suppose the credit has to go to Sven Goran Eriksson. Quite a few people were sceptical when he took over, expecting him to stick around for a month or two before disappearing with a nice redundancy package, but it looks like he's going to stay the course. And the changes that he's brought about, in a relatively short space of time, have been pretty remarkable.
First of all, Sven had to stop the rot that had set in during Paolo Sousa's brief and unhappy reign. That didn't take long. Since his appointment, our only home defeat has been to Premier League WBA in the Carling Cup, and we've gone from bottom of the Championship table in September to eighth in February, looking a good bet for the Play-offs.
But it's been the transformation of our playing style that has been the most amazing. Gone is our traditional 4-4-2, replaced by a fluid 4-3-3 formation, and suddenly we're scoring goals for fun. Since the start of November we've hit 2,2,1,5,2,2,2,4 and 4 goals in our home games, chalked up wins against promotion-chasing Forest and Swansea and held Manchester City in the FA Cup. Don't say it too loud, but we've started to be entertaining. Last weekend, the crowd were shouting "Ole" as the passes flew from one blue shirt to another. It was partly tongue-in-cheek, and we were playing Barnsley, but, hey, you've got to start somewhere.
The only slightly disappointing aspect of this turnaround is the fact that it has been achieved with a team increasingly filled with Premier League loan players. Many of the stalwarts of the Nigel Pearson era have found themselves relegated to the bench, or have even left the club. It's a shame, but it's the nature of the modern game. And while the new recruits are showing such commitment to the cause, and the football is this good, who's complaining?
http://www.dantunstall.com/
Really, I suppose the credit has to go to Sven Goran Eriksson. Quite a few people were sceptical when he took over, expecting him to stick around for a month or two before disappearing with a nice redundancy package, but it looks like he's going to stay the course. And the changes that he's brought about, in a relatively short space of time, have been pretty remarkable.
First of all, Sven had to stop the rot that had set in during Paolo Sousa's brief and unhappy reign. That didn't take long. Since his appointment, our only home defeat has been to Premier League WBA in the Carling Cup, and we've gone from bottom of the Championship table in September to eighth in February, looking a good bet for the Play-offs.
But it's been the transformation of our playing style that has been the most amazing. Gone is our traditional 4-4-2, replaced by a fluid 4-3-3 formation, and suddenly we're scoring goals for fun. Since the start of November we've hit 2,2,1,5,2,2,2,4 and 4 goals in our home games, chalked up wins against promotion-chasing Forest and Swansea and held Manchester City in the FA Cup. Don't say it too loud, but we've started to be entertaining. Last weekend, the crowd were shouting "Ole" as the passes flew from one blue shirt to another. It was partly tongue-in-cheek, and we were playing Barnsley, but, hey, you've got to start somewhere.
The only slightly disappointing aspect of this turnaround is the fact that it has been achieved with a team increasingly filled with Premier League loan players. Many of the stalwarts of the Nigel Pearson era have found themselves relegated to the bench, or have even left the club. It's a shame, but it's the nature of the modern game. And while the new recruits are showing such commitment to the cause, and the football is this good, who's complaining?
http://www.dantunstall.com/
Thursday, 3 February 2011
From Heroes to loads of Zeros
We have this book at home - Day of the Match by Scott Murray and Rowan Walker. It
records significant events that happened in football on each day of the year. September 8th 1888, for instance, was the first day of the football league; March 29th Pickles the dog becomes a film star (1966). I reckon Murray and Walker might want to revise January 31st for any future editions. Instead of 'Ghana 0-2 Ivory Coast: Elephants sent to military camp (2000) they might want 'Mad Monday: chaos on transfer deadline day' (2011).
Talk about history unfolding before your eyes. The media went into meltdown. Ten years ago - actually even one year ago - we'd never have seen all the wheeling and dealing going on behind the scenes but now with the Internet and Twitter and Sky Sports News anyone could follow events as they unfolded. On this day a record £130 million was spent in less than twenty four hours but the main stories focused on Fernando Torres (transferred from Liverpool to Chelsea for a whopping £50 million and Andy Carroll (Newcastle United to Liverpool for £35 million).
What I found interesting was the reaction of the fans. As reporters and journalists stood outside various stadia, ready to update the newest instalment (Torres is in a helicopter.... no he isn't ... yes he is... Carroll doesn't want to leave Newcastle... oh, yes he does...no way...) fans gathered behind them. Some were grinning, happy enough to be on the telly but others were becoming increasingly angry.
Liverpool fans were the first to make their views known. Torres, their hero, had let them down. It was no secret he'd been unhappy at the club but the speed and manner of his departure caught them by surprise. They reacted angrily. On Twitter, Bali Rai, urged everyone to send their shirts to charity. Others were less measured as this picture shows:
Worse still, Torres received death threats from a few Liverpool fans. Death threats! That's when it gets mental. OK, yes, when a player leaves one club for another it can feel lika a betrayal but death threats? That's beyond stupid. Sadly, it isn't uncommon. So what is it about football that drives usually sane, perfectly ordinary people to such extremes? What does the game unleash in them?
Maybe it's because for the die-hard fans (and remember, fan is short for fanatic) their team is an extension of their family. When I go to watch Huddersfield Town play and the singing end is giving it some welly, the song that gets to me every time is an old Elvis number. 'Take my heart, take my whole life too...' we sing, arms outstretched, lungs fit to burst. '...for I can't help falling in love with you...'
You is the club. The players are part of that club. The fans adore them and that adoration can last a lifetime, even when a player has retired or joins another team - as long as he joins that team in the right circumstances. Fans get that players have to move on. They know they can't hang on to their golden boy forever - that he'll have to be cut loose from the apron strings. But there's a right way and a wrong way to leave the nest and neither Carroll nor Torres were seen as leaving in the right way. But death threats? That's another ball game altogether...
Helena Pielichaty
records significant events that happened in football on each day of the year. September 8th 1888, for instance, was the first day of the football league; March 29th Pickles the dog becomes a film star (1966). I reckon Murray and Walker might want to revise January 31st for any future editions. Instead of 'Ghana 0-2 Ivory Coast: Elephants sent to military camp (2000) they might want 'Mad Monday: chaos on transfer deadline day' (2011).
Talk about history unfolding before your eyes. The media went into meltdown. Ten years ago - actually even one year ago - we'd never have seen all the wheeling and dealing going on behind the scenes but now with the Internet and Twitter and Sky Sports News anyone could follow events as they unfolded. On this day a record £130 million was spent in less than twenty four hours but the main stories focused on Fernando Torres (transferred from Liverpool to Chelsea for a whopping £50 million and Andy Carroll (Newcastle United to Liverpool for £35 million).
What I found interesting was the reaction of the fans. As reporters and journalists stood outside various stadia, ready to update the newest instalment (Torres is in a helicopter.... no he isn't ... yes he is... Carroll doesn't want to leave Newcastle... oh, yes he does...no way...) fans gathered behind them. Some were grinning, happy enough to be on the telly but others were becoming increasingly angry.
Liverpool fans were the first to make their views known. Torres, their hero, had let them down. It was no secret he'd been unhappy at the club but the speed and manner of his departure caught them by surprise. They reacted angrily. On Twitter, Bali Rai, urged everyone to send their shirts to charity. Others were less measured as this picture shows:
Worse still, Torres received death threats from a few Liverpool fans. Death threats! That's when it gets mental. OK, yes, when a player leaves one club for another it can feel lika a betrayal but death threats? That's beyond stupid. Sadly, it isn't uncommon. So what is it about football that drives usually sane, perfectly ordinary people to such extremes? What does the game unleash in them?
Maybe it's because for the die-hard fans (and remember, fan is short for fanatic) their team is an extension of their family. When I go to watch Huddersfield Town play and the singing end is giving it some welly, the song that gets to me every time is an old Elvis number. 'Take my heart, take my whole life too...' we sing, arms outstretched, lungs fit to burst. '...for I can't help falling in love with you...'
You is the club. The players are part of that club. The fans adore them and that adoration can last a lifetime, even when a player has retired or joins another team - as long as he joins that team in the right circumstances. Fans get that players have to move on. They know they can't hang on to their golden boy forever - that he'll have to be cut loose from the apron strings. But there's a right way and a wrong way to leave the nest and neither Carroll nor Torres were seen as leaving in the right way. But death threats? That's another ball game altogether...
Helena Pielichaty
Sunday, 30 January 2011
Arsenal 2 Huddersfield Town 1 in the 4th Round of the FA Cup
Herbert Chapman 1878-1934
If I tell you that Huddersfield Town and Arsenal have a lot of history I mean it in the nicest possible way. We were both managed by one of the legends of football, Herbert Chapman (above). Chapman took Huddersfield Town to the dizziest heights possible in the 1920s - the FA Cup Final of 1921-2 and as Division 1 Champions of 1923/4 and 1924/5. In 1925 he left Town for Arsenal, dazzled at the prospect of doubling his salary to £2,000 a year. He stayed with Arsenal until his untimely death from pneumonia aged 55. As a manager he was ahead of his time. Among many other things he introduced physiotherapists to help his players recover from injuries faster, floodlights for evening matches and, when Huddersfield came to Arsenal, the idea of the two walking abreast of each other out of the tunnel - something all sides do to this day.
So what would Herbert have made of today's fixture in the fourth round of the FA Cup? His two clubs have followed different paths. Huddersfield are nowhere near as big as they were in his day, Arsenal have remained one of the top 5 clubs in England ever since his death. He'd have had to bet on Arsenal.
Me too. Going in to the match, with our young keeper Alex Smithies and our main striker Jordan Rhodes both out injured, I was hoping only for damage limitation. Please don't humiliate us on telly, Gunners, is what I thought.
For the first 20 minutes my fears were realised. We were overawed and couldn't put two passes together; everyone sensed it was only a matter of time before we were punished. Whether Arshavin was feeling sorry for us or Bendtner was having a laugh I don't know but they missed some sitters. However, after another embarrassing air-shot by Bendtner, he redeemed himself in the 22nd minute by getting his shot deflected in by captain Peter Clarke for an own goal. The replay, however, showed the pass from Arsenal's Chamakh to Bendtner was a hand ball.
As so often happens with Town, the goal against them helped to steady their nerves. Although up to that point they'd only had 18% possession, their passing became more assured, their marking more efficient. Nasri went off early in the game with a hamstring and then, amazingly, Squillaci was shown a red for a foul on Jack Hunt. After that we were a different team. Galvanised you could say. Game on!
In the second half we took it to Arsenal; they seemed at a loss as to how to contain us and Town striker Alan Lee's equaliser on 66 minutes was well deserved.
Twenty minutes before the end we were shown the ultimate respect - Wenger brought on superstar Fabregas. But you know what? Even that didn't daunt the lads in blue and white. They just kept calm and carried on, having chance after chance. But then, as so often happens, the tops sides get that little bit of luck. An innocuous-looking block by McCombe in the box awarded Arsenal a penalty in the 87th minute.
Fabregas, naturally, buried it.
So 2-1 to Arsenal but Huddersfield Town, by the end, had 58% overall possession and more shots on target. Herbert would have been proud. I know I am. But our achievement makes our 0-4 drubbing by Carlisle United in the Johnstone's Paint Trophy last week all the more annoying...
Read the report here: http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/fa_cup/9379082.stm
- Helena Pielichaty
Monday, 24 January 2011
Unscientific Theory Alert! - Dan Tunstall
The recent sacking of Roy Keane as Ipswich manager got me thinking about one of my pet theories. Top players very rarely make top managers.
The one exception to the rule is Kenny Dalglish in his first spell as Liverpool manager and then at Blackburn. It will be interesting to see how he does back in the Anfield hotseat twenty years on. Dalglish apart though, most of the great players of the last twenty-five years who have made the step into the technical area have found success hard to come by.
Glenn Hoddle was let down by his man-management and PR gaffes. Kevin Keegan always seemed to be one hard-to-take result away from falling on his sword. John Barnes made little impact at Celtic and Tranmere. Alan Shearer's brief reign at Newcastle ended in relegation. Tony Adams, Stuart Pearce, Peter Shilton, Trevor Francis - the list goes on and on. Mark Hughes has had a steady career in the dug-out without ever really scaling the heights.
The one outstanding player of recent times to be making a decent go of management is Roberto Mancini. His record in Italy was excellent, and his Manchester City side are in with a shout of the Premier League title this year. The next few months will be the real acid test though.
But if top footballers hardly ever make top managers, what sort of people do? Well, the record shows that the great managers of recent times - Ferguson, Wenger, Mourinho - wer fairly average during their playing careers. In fact, virtually all of the established Premier League managers - Redknapp, Bruce, Coyle, Pulis, Moyes, McLeish, McCarthy - were solid if unspectacular pros. Certainly not superstars.
So will David Beckham be winning the Manager of the Year trophy in ten years' time? Not very likely. But of course, with Beckham, you just never know.
http://www.dantunstall.com/
The one exception to the rule is Kenny Dalglish in his first spell as Liverpool manager and then at Blackburn. It will be interesting to see how he does back in the Anfield hotseat twenty years on. Dalglish apart though, most of the great players of the last twenty-five years who have made the step into the technical area have found success hard to come by.
Glenn Hoddle was let down by his man-management and PR gaffes. Kevin Keegan always seemed to be one hard-to-take result away from falling on his sword. John Barnes made little impact at Celtic and Tranmere. Alan Shearer's brief reign at Newcastle ended in relegation. Tony Adams, Stuart Pearce, Peter Shilton, Trevor Francis - the list goes on and on. Mark Hughes has had a steady career in the dug-out without ever really scaling the heights.
The one outstanding player of recent times to be making a decent go of management is Roberto Mancini. His record in Italy was excellent, and his Manchester City side are in with a shout of the Premier League title this year. The next few months will be the real acid test though.
But if top footballers hardly ever make top managers, what sort of people do? Well, the record shows that the great managers of recent times - Ferguson, Wenger, Mourinho - wer fairly average during their playing careers. In fact, virtually all of the established Premier League managers - Redknapp, Bruce, Coyle, Pulis, Moyes, McLeish, McCarthy - were solid if unspectacular pros. Certainly not superstars.
So will David Beckham be winning the Manager of the Year trophy in ten years' time? Not very likely. But of course, with Beckham, you just never know.
http://www.dantunstall.com/
Tuesday, 18 January 2011
Nat Lofthouse - Helena Pielichaty
1925-2011
'the Lion of Vienna'
legendary centre forward
played for Bolton Wanderers from 1946 -1960 (505 appearances, 285 goals)
England from 1950-1958 (33 appearances 30 goals)
RIP
Monday, 10 January 2011
Haves - v- Have Nots In The FA Cup - Dan Tunstall
My club, Leicester City, could hardly be described as footballing paupers. True, we nearly went bust a decade ago. But over the past few years, with buy-outs from Milan Mandaric and now the Thai-based King Power Group, we're doing OK, money-wise. But when Manchester City, the wealthiest club in the world, came to visit this weekend for the 3rd round of the FA Cup, it felt like you or I inviting rich relatives round for tea. Just the slightest bit self-conscious about the chipped plates and the sauce bottles out on the table.
In terms of what I wanted from the match itself, it was a case of mixed emotions. People talk about the magic of the FA Cup, but I'm a realist and I know clubs like Leicester don't win competitions like that. The last time a team from outside the top flight got their hands on the trophy was West Ham in 1980. Magic is in pretty short supply. Promotion is our real goal this season, so I was looking for a good performance, maybe forcing a replay. At the very least, a bit of honour in defeat.
The problem was, when the Manchester City team sheet was read out, my blood ran cold. No outings for the reserves here. The starting eleven included Joe Hart, Joleon Lescott, Jerome Boateng, Kolo Toure, Patrick Viera, James Milner, Adam Johnson, Jo and Carlos Tevez. They'd come to give us a spanking. And that was something I really didn't want to see.
As it turned out, I needn't have worried. In fact, we opened the scoring after 45 seconds, giving us the chance to sing "One-nil on your big day out" to the massed ranks of Man City fans. Although we'd fallen behind by half time, an error by Joe Hart gifted us an equaliser that was thoroughly deserved. When the ref blew the final whistle, I felt pretty satisfied. We hadn't won, but we'd come out with our heads held high.
So in the end, having the rich relatives round wasn't so bad after all. And now it's back to theirs in nine days' time. Let's just hope they've got all their silver cutlery nicely polished for us.
http://www.dantunstall.com/
In terms of what I wanted from the match itself, it was a case of mixed emotions. People talk about the magic of the FA Cup, but I'm a realist and I know clubs like Leicester don't win competitions like that. The last time a team from outside the top flight got their hands on the trophy was West Ham in 1980. Magic is in pretty short supply. Promotion is our real goal this season, so I was looking for a good performance, maybe forcing a replay. At the very least, a bit of honour in defeat.
The problem was, when the Manchester City team sheet was read out, my blood ran cold. No outings for the reserves here. The starting eleven included Joe Hart, Joleon Lescott, Jerome Boateng, Kolo Toure, Patrick Viera, James Milner, Adam Johnson, Jo and Carlos Tevez. They'd come to give us a spanking. And that was something I really didn't want to see.
As it turned out, I needn't have worried. In fact, we opened the scoring after 45 seconds, giving us the chance to sing "One-nil on your big day out" to the massed ranks of Man City fans. Although we'd fallen behind by half time, an error by Joe Hart gifted us an equaliser that was thoroughly deserved. When the ref blew the final whistle, I felt pretty satisfied. We hadn't won, but we'd come out with our heads held high.
So in the end, having the rich relatives round wasn't so bad after all. And now it's back to theirs in nine days' time. Let's just hope they've got all their silver cutlery nicely polished for us.
http://www.dantunstall.com/
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