Great Vengeance and Furious Anger

Last week's Melbourne derby finished in a 2-2 draw, with the Heart coming back from a 2 goal deficit to keep their hopes off post-season Finals qualification alive. In front of an impressive and vociferous 32'000 crowd, Jon Aloisi popped up either side of half time to cancel out the lead that threatened to all but end the contest. It leaves the Heart precariously perched in sixth (the final play-off spot) but with Wellington and Newcastle breathing down their necks, both with games in hand, nothing is guaranteed.

The major talking point from the game, and one which has had lasting ramifications for both players involved, surrounded the 79th minute dismissal of Victory captain Kevin Muscat. He was shown a straight red (even though already on a yellow and perhaps lucky to be on the pitch at all after repeat offending) for an ugly, brutal and bound-to-injure two footed lunge on Heart winger Adrian Zahra. Click here for a view of the tackle - it is nothing if not robust. Muscat was immediately condemned by many, and the A-League this morning announced that he will receive an 8-game ban, which looks likely to effectively force the 39 year old defenders retirement. Zahra meanwhile is confirmed to be out for the rest of the season and beyond with serious knee ligament damage. Nice.

The tackle is one of those that is basically impossible to justify. Fortunately Zahra was on the move and did not have his feet planted in the turf and - perhaps knowing it was Muscat bearing down on him - was able to anticipate the impact to a certain extent. Muscat cannot excuse two things for me: firstly the height that the tackle starts at, secondly the scissor effect of the trailing leg. When you bring the second leg in like that, the chance of causing damage to ligaments and joints is massively increased, since the opponent's legs become trapped and twisted with the initial impact. It's nasty, it's angry, and there is no excuse for it. Which brings us on to the topic of discussion for today: Rage.

Everyone gets angry. From time to time there are things in life that have the capacity to reduce normal, ordinary, polite citizens into anger filled spiky urchins of hate; eager to spread death and destruction to all around them. Read this excellent blog for a hilarious encapsulation of day-to-day anger, and if you don't recognise a little bit of yourself in some of those pictures, then you will probably end up a serial killer. Remember what happened when Ned Flanders bottled up his anger - it's not pretty. It's healthy, perhaps even necessary, to vent off some steam every now and then.

For many people, physical exercise is a way of doing just that. Forgetting the stresses of the day by hitting the gym, or smashing a football/tennis ball/small animal* around for a bit can be a brilliant way of relieving tension, getting out some anger and basically letting go. But there is of course a line.

It's one thing to hammer into a punch bag, picturing your nightmare boss and letting the pent-up aggression out. There is probably little harm that can come from hammering down a few serves with extra venom just to get it out of your system - a friend of mine who I regularly played tennis with in the UK used to send down a 290 km/h double fault if he was particularly stressed. Seemed to work for him...made me laugh as well. When it comes to team sports though, there is an added factor in getting out your aggression. The other people.

We've all been there, whether it is the result of a bad day or if things aren't going right in the game, you play with an added intensity, determination and verve. If controlled, a bit of aggression is without doubt performance-enhancing - you fly around the pitch with more zip, put your opponent under more intense pressure and (again, if controlled) can focus and execute things much more sharply. But the key thing is the control. Muscat clearly lost control, and I personally think it serves him right that his career ends in disgrace like this. It's not like he doesn't have years of previous - the FFA even referred to his past record as a contributing factor to the length of his ban.

When you lose it, either you or your opponent is going to get hurt. People who know me may justifiably point to the hypocrisy of me preaching about controlling your aggression and keeping your cool - but my frustrations are always with myself. If I do something on a football pitch that I know is below what I am capable of it winds me up like nothing else (except people who get on the train before letting others off). Even though I can shout and swear and make obvious my anger, I have only ever once knowingly gone into a tackle with the intention to just kick my opponent. As it turned out it was probably the best tackle I've ever made but that is entirely beside the point - Muscat can surely not convince anyone that he was not looking to 'reduce' Adrian Zahra with his lunged tackle.

Strong tackling without doubt has it's place in football. Some of the most enthralling match-up's are between a strong, robust, physically matched defender and attacker - Ashley Cole and Cristiano Ronaldo have had some epic battles over the years which have been so good to watch due to the intensity, the bite and the ferocity with which they are both willing to compete. I certainly am not saying that tackling should be outlawed, far from it - but anyone who has played the game knows there is a way to win the ball hard and fair, and there is a way to take your opponent out.

The nasty, injury inducing tackle is cowardly too. If someone has wound you up to the point that you want to cause them physical damage - have a fight. Be a man, call them out, and sort it out properly. I'd have far more respect for two players who simply went at it due to whatever beef there was between them, than the cynical and cowardly scything tackles that people in a rage can too often resort to.

Rage is no excuse - people can get hurt. At my level that usually means not being able to make it into work on a Monday, but can also easily result in weeks and months of sub-par NHS physiotherapy or costly private treatment. At the professional level, you could end someone's career. Neither scenario to me is worth it. For Muscat, the chance of redemption will probably never come. Shame.

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(Again, if you nod in agreement at that bit, then you're probably going to end up down the West/Shipman/Sutcliffe route. Stay away from me. (but thanks for reading!))

Hey hey you you get off of my players

Chris Baird, Dexter Blackstock, David McGoldrick
Andrew Surman, Nathan Dyer, Leon Best
Kenwyne Jones
Wayne Bridge

Theo Walcott

Gareth Bale.

Over the last decade, the Academy at Southampton FC has an enviable record of producing talented young players capable of exciting and dynamic attacking football. Largely due to an inability to compete on a financial basis with the majority of their Premier League peers, Saints made a strategic decision to focus on youth, and for years the Academy director Huw Jennings had considerable success - Walcott's generation stormed to an FA Cup Final and clubs around the country were clamouring to work with the Saints in an attempt to repeat their success.

All of the players listed above have gone on to play for other clubs, not one of them remains a Saint. Some play at the highest level - any manager in European football right now would buy Gareth Bale given the opportunity - but even for the ones who have yet to taste success at the peak of the game; they all made a move to a club of bigger status or financial means.

Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain is the latest Academy graduate to have newspaper gossip columns speculating. Rumoured to be the subject of a 10m bid from Liverpool, our 17 year old winger is also apparently being watched by everyone from London to Manchester via Milan, Barcelona and Madrid. And this is the problem.

With the money that is in football these days, there is a hell of a lot to be gained by identifying a prospect at a young age and getting him in then albeit with a risk involved; than having to pay a club exorbitant fees to get the player at a later, more developed, and much more expensive age. Imagine if Cesc Fabregas had not joined Arsenal at 16 and instead stayed with Barca. Could they afford him now? Not a chance. Everyone wants to get the next big thing through their doors and onto their books early - he might not develop as hoped (Walcott has not progressed at the rate which Wenger would have wanted but that's another blog) and may never make it at all...but if he does, you have a situation which at worst leaves you with a huge transfer fee from selling on the player that you got for peanuts. All of Europe's elite clubs will be interested in the players creating a buzz - if you've got him your rivals haven't and that is worth the gamble, even with fees for unproven youngsters getting somewhat out of hand.

It leaves the selling club with a large chunk of money that can be reinvested on either more youth development or senior players to bolster the first team squad. Often this money may be needed to keep the club afloat. The player gets to train with better players, should develop into a better player, and may if the potential is fulfilled, become a superstar. Not to mention reaping the financial rewards that the club at which they started simply could not match. It's market economics and in theory everybody wins. Except...they don't though, do they.

Every time we've sold one of our young players I've been disappointed. Not in the player - who can blame them. Not in the buying club - as above, it's an understandable policy and the rewards can be massive. Not, even, in the Saints - often times the sale is unavoidable and strategically by far the right thing to do - in the case of Andrew Surman, a Saints fan through and through; he even said whilst leaving for Wolves that he was advised the transfer was the best thing he could do to help the club which was in the depths of a financial meltdown.

As a fan in this scenario, I never feel like I win though. As good as it is to see our player that came through our Academy tearing holes through the European Champions, he wasn't wearing the right shirt. Fans easily and often misguidedly make connections with players and sometimes it hurts when they go. Even though it all makes sense, fundamentally I just wish we could keep our good players.

As soon as one of our players starts doing well I want to go into covert Russian spy mode, wishing there was some way of keeping the secret and not letting anyone else find out. Every hyped report is fuel to the fire that will inevitable lead to us losing another good player. Maybe Saints should attempt propaganda, brainwashing any journalists or scouts after the game - convince them that the player they just saw terrorise defences with a potent mix of pace and skill was actually a carthorse never cut out for anything. Get Derren Brown and Paul McKenna in as a management dream team. Mind-altering drugs in the Bovril?

Perhaps we could get our players to switch shirts at ten minute intervals, confuzzling all but the keenest eyes. Disguises! We should send Oxlade-Chambelrian out with a mac, a hat and dark glasses - peeking through the holes in his newspaper to collect the ball, beat the defender and score another eye-catching goal. All the players could dress up as women. Whatever needs to be done, I just want to get to February 1 without reading the dreaded headline: 'Reds sign Saints starlet'

Having said all this, Saints have taken 1 point from the last 6 including a 2-0 reverse at Tranmere Rovers. Maybe this is their strategy to keep hold of him: just be shit. Clever...

Filthy/Gorgeous

If you've been a regular reader of these pages (or indeed ever met me) you'll know that my single biggest footballing influence is Matthew Le Tissier. Growing up with Le Tiss has left an indelible mark on the way I perceive football, in particular the way it should be played.

The Le Tissier effect resulted in, from an early age, the belief that football should be played in the 'Joga Bonito' way. Tricks, flicks, skill; these are the things that to me (when used effectively) are the peak of artistic beauty in the game. I love passing football and find it extremely hard to warm to a team that is overly physical or one dimensional in their play.

This approach has found itself into my own game also - admittedly my physique has never led itself to any other style of play, but I always look for the beautiful way to play the game. Beating an opponent with a piece of skill gives me such a rush that I end up trying to do it way too often and would be a much better player if I focussed more on the simple things.

Although I can accept that there is a quality to be admired in the more robust and often more cynical approach, I just hate watching it.

Whether the useless, fat, clumsy and stupid defenders that sometimes spend Sunday mornings trying to break my legs, as if I'm the reason their life has not worked out how they had hoped; or the spiteful cynical playacting demonstrated by numerous players week in week out during the Premier League or last years World Cup, I just hate it.

Yeah you might win the ball, or you might get a freekick, or get an opponent sent off, hell, you might even win matches or tournaments. But seriously, is that really how football should be played? Dishonest, snidey, vicious and brutal? Grow up. That's my view anyway and as I say it is clearly one point of view borne out of my early influences and own limitations.

It is just as well I didn't watch football in the sixties though.

I'm currently reading Jonathan Wilson's 'Inverting the Pyramid: The history of football tactics' and, following the shift from all out attack to the realisation that a solid defence could win matches, today covered Estudiantes of Argentina in the 60s.

Jiminy Jilickers Radioactive Man - these blokes sound like absolute nutters.

I thought Wimbledon were bad, and struggled to enjoy watching any team under Sam Allardyce - but Estudiantes took it to an ever lower and more disgraceful level. Apparently they once goaded an opponent who had killed his best friend in a hunting accident - chanting 'murderer' at him all game. Another time they managed to get hold of medical records, and got an opposition goalkeeper sent off for retaliation. How? They took the mickey out of his wife who had recently had an operation to have a cyst removed. Damn.

In one particular match, the Intercontinental Cup final against AC Milan 1969, three Estudiantes players put on such a spectacle of thuggery that the watching nation was repulsed. One Milan player had his cheek broken by an elbow, and Rivera was punched to the ground then kicked while he was down. The three spent a month in jail. IN JAIL.

Reading this I was struck by the fact that maybe I've been too quick to condemn, clearly things have been a lot worse. The stuff that I hate in football actually isn't that bad after all, yes there are some nasty players who seem intent on hurting their opponent (Hi Ben Thatcher) and yes there are countless players who seek to do anything to gain an unfair advantage (Hi Chelsea) but maybe I should stop being such a bohemian about it. The world isn't all flicks tricks loyalty honesty and total football. Maybe I should learn to love the dark side - it is blatantly the cooler side of Star Wars after all.

Vinnie Jones, Ronald Koeman, John Fashanu, Sam Allardyce, Nigel De Jong...I'm sorry.

Donaldson's Dairy

I often find that I tend to get into things a bit too much.

Maybe it's an addictive personality, incredibly low boredom threshold or the long suspected but never confirmed autism that I may well have.

Whatever the cause, the result is that I find too much interest in things. I have to learn every detail, remember every fact, or engage with every available piece of information there is about something. It often seems to stick in my head, dates, names, facts all get slotted away, which can be a good thing - when competing on game shows for example (Virginia Wade). This is all fine, no one suffers but myself.

It doesn't stop there though.

When I get into something, for some stupid reason, I feel like I need to share it with everyone else. Conversation is a healthy thing and there is nothing wrong with sharing interests...provided you remember that not everyone is as much of a loser as you are and will not care as much as you do, dickhead. Too many times in my life I have realised, mid-story, that the recipient of my fascinating/hilarious story is glazing over, and wishing they had killed me when they only had the chance.

To this day I'm haunted by an encounter when introduced by a colleague to their friend, who happened to mention Hairy Maclary. You may know Hairy Maclary, it's a kids book about a gang of dogs and arguably one of the finest pieces of literature known to man. This poor person - who incredibly and to their immense credit actually has not severed any tie with me since that terrible moment - suffered through a solid 15-20 minutes of one way conversation about the different dogs in Hairy Maclary's neighbourhood. Muffin Mclay, Bitzer Maloney, Schnitzel von Krumm with a very low tum - the useless fact recall system was into overdrive and I just kept the deluge coming.

The familiar 'jesus this weirdo knows a lot about hairy maclary...how do I get away' look came over my new friend, at which point I realised that I should probably just kill myself or at the very least modify my conversation.

Sadly, this morning, confirmation arrived that I have not learned my lesson.

One of my Christmas presents from my brother-in-law to be* was Alex Bellos' book entitled 'Futebol: The Brazilian way of life'. It is an absolutely fantastic read, encompassing all aspects of the game that pervades deep into every facet of Brazilian life. The writer has gone to great lengths (literally, travelling the equivalent of the circumference of the world all within Brazil) to bring to light an entertaining and revealing mix into Brazilian football's quirks and intricacies, the heroes, the villains and all in between. Having been lucky enough to visit Rio two years ago (around the time of MaclaryGate) I could straight away relate to the visions of football in every patch of spare land, the passion that seems to be in everyone, and the skill, technique and expression with which Brazilians play the game.

It's a great book and I would definitely recommend it to any football fan.

I would not recommend it to the poor colleague of mine who, walking into the office and seeing a book in my hand, asked what I was reading.

When we finally reached our desks, four floors later, that might have been the point at which to stop telling him about disgraceful corruption within the CBF...but no, I soldiered on. Bravely I thought this guy - who incidentally knows nothing about football and has no real interest in sports - this guy is desperate to hear about the fact that Maicon is supposed to be named Michael after Michael Douglas but the registrar got it wrong. He's bound to be gripped by the Amazonian variant that is mud football. And you just know he cares about Garrincha's legs.



Ah, hello, glassy eyed look of fear, confusion, boredom and pity ... good to see you again, old friend.

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* He is getting married to my sister on FA Cup final day. If by some miracle Southampton make the final, I'll be doing everything I can to get the wedding called off. Should be easy, I'll just start talking to the registrar about the Fla-Flu rivalry...

Crystal Balls

As a new year begins it is customary to reflect back on the previous twelve months, which in the footballing world contained a noisy and somewhat disappointing World Cup, further excellence on the pitch from Lionel Messi and co; and further excellence just next to the pitch from Jose Mourinho. Looking back, while fun, is indulgent and nostalgic (I could happily reflect on 2010 all day long, best year of my life as it unquestionably was) but instead I think it is important to look forward. Reflect not on the good times past, but look ahead to the good times yet to pass.

With that positive approach I have decided to cast my attention to what 2011 has in store. These predictions are not to be relied on to improve your financial position...if they do however, please send 10% of any winnings to SubPlease, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney, Australia...

Manchester United enter the year in a position of considerable advantage. Their main rivals over the past 5 years are spluttering more than my first car when I was yet to learn what the choke was for; and the threat from cross city rivals City or Wenger's Arsenal has more choke than my first car when I was yet to...you get the picture. Chelsea will get their act in gear and with 2 games against United they are definitely capable of closing that gap significantly. With a possibly rejuvenated Liverpool and the ongoing strength of Tottenham, Sunderland, Bolton et al; it will not be a standard procession from the Red Devils and they will not repeat the post-Christmas procession that has been seen so often in the past. They'll drop points, and it will be tight...but I'm backing them to sneak yet another title.

The teams at the top of the table, as with last year, are going to find that 5 into 4 does not go, so at least one club with Champions League credentials and ambitions is going to fall short. Liverpool don't have enough quality to trouble the top four at present - even with a King Kenny inspired improvement, they are not at the required level. Like a humiliated and battered Australian cricket side, Liverpool may need to face up to a painful and difficult rebuilding process ahead - their problems are more than even Dalglish can fix.

Tottenham's participation in next year's competition may well depend largely on their performance in this year's. If they are able to defeat AC Milan in what promises to be a horror show for fans of dour defending but good fun for the rest of us, the demands of competing on numerous fronts may impact on their pursuit for the top four. Of course this applies to United, Arsenal and Chelsea also...well, perhaps not John Coffy (like the drink only not spelt the same) AKA Arsenal who are on football's equivalent of the Green Mile, facing a knockout tie against Barcelona. City have the squad to cope with what should be a long run in the Europa League and I'm backing them to be in the big cup next season. Top four: United, Arsenal, Chelsea, City.

The relegation battle is often something that at this stage of the season looks incredibly tight, then due to a few teams smelling the excrement on it's way to the fan and improving so as to avoid the impact, ends up with a 3 from 4 type scenario. This year I expect to see the three W's who have struggled for most of the season - West Ham, Wolves and Wigan, continue to battle the drop, and the others to fight alongside them will be Blackpool and West Brom. They may have enough credit in the bank to just keep afloat, but I doubt it. Going down - Wolves, West Ham, Blackpool.

In Europe I have a sneaky feeling that with global warming, impending Korean nuclear war, Saturn being in Uranus and everything building to a head, we are going to be blessed with a latter stages Champions League El Classico. Mourinho will be once again given the task to stifle and nullify the best team in the world, and this time with the added ingredient of the revenge mission from the 5-0 spanking that the world watched 6 weeks ago. Just a feeling, but Madrid to face Barcelona in one semi final, see what odds you can get. With the final being at Wembley the onus is on England's competitors to reach the last hurdle, particularly the London clubs. However this may count against them as this competition seems to have a tradition of spoiling the dreams of the hosts - in recent years many teams with credible winning aspirations have been handed the honour of hosting the final - Madrid, United, Barca (who also would have loved to win it at El Bernabeu last time) but always fallen short. Maybe it's the added pressure, but I believe Ol Big Ears will be heading down to Spain this summer.

Oh, one more thing, by way of a personal indulgence...Southampton will win promotion to the Championship, and will give United a scare in the FA Cup before losing by a single goal...and Melbourne Heart will make the final six post season playoffs...

Too much of a good thing...

Following the model established across most of continental Europe, SubPlease has been observing a winter break hence the 2 week delay in getting an update posted on here. Rather than focus on improvements, goals for the remainder of the season or new personnel however,I've been enjoying the festive season in Sydney, including an epic 3 days at the SCG.

English football steadfastly refuses to adopt a winter break - instead the football calendar has just gone through one of it's busiest spells of the entire season. Many clubs faced a schedule of 4 games in just 10 days - a ridiculous demand to place on the resources of thinly stretched lower league squads, and one which resulted in some bizarre results and inevitable strain injuries.

The amount of football that has been played since I last posted on Christmas Eve has had a significant impact on the Premier League table - we are now over halfway into the season and teams are starting to understand what the aim is for the remaining four months.

All teams from Fulham in 14th down to West Ham at the bottom must now face up to the fact that 2011 starts for them with a relegation battle. It is extremely tight at the foot of the table at present, just 2 points seperate the 6 bottom clubs; and results are proving highly unpredictable. Anyone who had money on Wolves to beat Liverpool and Chelsea deserves their winnings.

A run such as that which Wolves have enjoyed of late can ensure that the season still promises much for any of the clubs in the middle section of the table. My own Southampton demonstrate this perfectly - putting together a decent string of results over the festive period to catapult themselves from 8th into 2nd, a position which they will hope to consolidate in a concerted push for automatic promotion this year.

Sunderland and Bolton have had mixed results over the last fortnight but both find themselves tantalisingly close to the European positions and should be targeting the team in fifth. That team, much to my disbelief and the ridicule of an earlier blog predicting they'd be home and dry by now...are Chelsea.

A shocking run of form, one not seen since the pre-Abramovich days, has left Carlo Ancelotti's Blues very blue indeed. They sit in fifth but more importantly, they are 9 points away from the summit having played an extra game. That is not going to be an easy lead to diminish and unless they find some form quickly, Chelsea may have to face up to the unthinkable and ensure they secure a top four finish, forgetting about the championship altogether.

The team at the summit is, who else, Manchester United. Not the all-conquering, dominating beats that has been seen in the past, but a slightly unconvincing and sub-par edition of the Premier League's most successful club. If United win the league this year they will be a pale shadow of their former league-winning vintages, and they will only win it because the rest were not good enough; not because they were irresistibly strong themselves. I certainly don't want them to win it - they have enough league titles already and to get another one with such a relatively ordinary team just doesn't feel right.

The pretenders realistically look to be Arsenal and Manchester City who played out a goal-less draw to round out their run of fixtures. City have already begun their annual January spendathon with the recruitment of Bosnian Edin Dzeko and are likely to continue - however as already written they have yet to make a convincing case. Arsenal, with a 3-1 win over Chelsea might just have shaken the monkey off their back and could be ready to step up. Let's face it though. It's going to be United isn't it.

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Having had the break, I'll step things up again now. Keep reading and interacting, always good to hear comments and thoughts. Next couple of days I'm planning a Crystal Ball special so get yourself down the bookies and I'll take 10% of the inevitable resultant winnings.