Semi e-Wrecked

In 2003, when Southampton embarked on a promising FA Cup run with a 4-0 destruction of then arch-rivals Spurs in the third round, each round brought with it more excitement and anticipation. We were fortunate to receive a home draw in the quarter final against Championship side Wolves, managed by our wronged former manager Dave Jones; and after 60 odd minutes of credible resistance, we got the breakthrough.

What followed was around a month of utter distraction. I genuinely nearly crashed my car (a frequent hobby of mine at the time) when the draw was made pitting us against Watford, the weakest of the remaining teams, and I was unable to really focus or concentrate on anything much other than the looming semi final.

A very good friend of mine has recently experienced this, a lifelong Bolton Wanderers fan with many close ties to the club. If you know him (and millions do, he's got more Facebook friends than Emmanuel Eboue's got regrettable lapses of judgement) then I don't need to explain, but for those that don't...trust me, there will have been few people anywhere for whom Bolton v Stoke meant quite so much.

The semi final was my favourite bit in our entire cup run. We were always going to be underdogs in the final against an utterly dominant at the time Arsenal, but that glorious day at Villa Park was just perfect.

Sadly for the travelling hordes of Bolton fans, their day could not really have been worse.

Talk about your all time anti-climaxes.

Stoke produced a performance of impressive ambition, dynamism and clinical finishing; but the truth is that Bolton had the mother of all off days. To be whacked 5-0 in such a big game by United or Chelsea would have hurt, but to get hammered by a team that is certainly not streets ahead of you must really stick in the throats. For Bolton Wanderers, the opportunity to reach a cup final does not come round every season - admittedly under Owen Coyle they have many reasons to feel optimistic and things look to be on the up...but this was a real 'down'.

Stoke City fans meanwhile will be over the moon, and rightly so. What a result, surely they can not have imagined it would be so easy. Early goals to settle the nerves, a dominant lead before the break and then putting the game to bed before any resistance could occur, thanks very much. They have every right to enjoy their moment in the sun - after 3 seasons of competitive if ugly football in the Premier League they may be seeing this as overdue recognition. Moreover they have every right to look to the final with a degree of defiant optimism.

Manchester City were deserving winners against their superior nemesis. Had Berbatov done what Hernandez would have and scored with a clear sight of goal early on, it surely would have been a different game, but City were good value for the victory and will see this as the first step in the plan for world domination that their owners have put so much money into realising.

As good as they were, they are still City, which means nothing can ever be relied on. Stoke have every chance to ruffle their feathers and should approach the game without fear. They have got this far on merit, anything can happen in 90 minutes, and they aren't playing Barcelona.

Nearer the time I'll deliver another of my patented and foolproof tips but for the time being, both sets of City fans should be revelling in the win and making plans for the big one.

As for those disappointed Bolton fans, I guess the only consolation is this: At least it wasn't Gary Megson leading your men out of that Wembley tunnel. See...it could always be worse.

Firing Blanks

I've just started in a new job, and am currently going through all those familiar things that are annoyingly unavoidable when you find yourself in new surroundings. Getting your bearings, learning who is who, putting names to faces, making a good impression, and generally trying not to do anything too stupid or inappropriate.

Someone else who has recently joined a new employer is having a worse time than me. I mean, I've dropped the odd clanger (not all doors need swipe cards, some will just open like normal, douchebag) and I am feeling a bit swamped with the amount of new information to take on board...but generally it is going OK.

Fernando Torres, bless him, can't really say the same.

Chelsea's £50m January signing is still looking for his first goal, 11 games on, and this morning suffered the frustration of drawing yet another blank. Add in the disappointment of the defeat to United spelling the end of Chelsea's realistic trophy hunt for this year, coupled with the humiliation of being substituted at half time for the far more effective Didier Drogba; and this was pretty much rock bottom for the artist formerly so feared and revered as Liverpool's Number Nine. Now, I don't know much about the internal workings of Chelsea Football Club, but if it is anything like my workplace, Carlo Ancelotti is going to be facing a couple of difficult weekly catch-up meetings in the next few days.

Firstly with his star striker, the performance of whom so much of Chelsea's near future has been staked.

£50m is a lot of money without doubt, but if Torres can recapture the form of 2007/8/9 then that transfer fee will be quickly forgotten. A continuation of this current form and, frankly, £15m would be hard to justify. The man with the slug-like eyebrows simply has to find the key to getting results from Torres, or as they say in his native Italian, his-a goose is-a cooked-a.

Indeed, the second meeting, with his boss, may be simply confirming that fact regardless. Even if Torres had found his feet straight away, you always felt that delivering success in Europe was the only objective that Ancelotti's employer really cared about. Sir Alex Ferguson won't have had many people disagreeing with his verdict that Chelsea are 'obsessed' with claiming the only trophy that eludes them. Carlo's record in Europe with AC Milan was presumably a key factor in his appointment in the first place, and this second season of falling short at the quarter final stage could be too much for Roman Abramovich to tolerate.

I don't expect Ancelotti to be in charge for the first game of the 2011/12 campaign in August, but I do expect Torres to be leading the line in the blue number 9. They have to persist with him, and he has to get better. It is quite possible that with one goal will come many more - plenty of strikers take a while to settle in new clubs before coming good - but Torres seems to carry such a burden of expectation and frustration on his shoulders that is holding him back from anything near the level of which he is capable.

Meanwhile, the team that progressed at Chelsea's expense are now in with a very serious shout of reaching the final. Schalke were impressive in their demolition of Inter at the San Siro (by the way, Stankovic, my sweet lord. What. A. Goal.) but on the big semi final stage they will not have enough to get past a United side that have been here and done this many times before. Depending on the outcome of the huge derby clash at the weekend, they could also be lining up in the FA Cup final as well.

A treble is not going to happen - either Real Madrid or, as seems most likely, Barcelona, will beat them in the big one...but to reach the final hurdle and claim a League and Cup double with this squad must surely go down as one of Ferguson's greatest achievements. There is just a certainty about United, they are the only team in the Premier League possessing of such a cast-iron confidence and self belief, borne out of years of success and domination. Like them or not, it is impossible not to admire this almost tangible will to win. How far it ultimately will take them remains to be seen, but would you bet against them?

The Great Pretender

Manchester City are going to win the League.

At some point in the next five years, there is every reason to believe that the above statement is going to come true.

Just as the sheer billions of available stars mean life on other planets is surely out there, the sheer billions of available megabucks mean sooner or later City fans will hit the interstellar heights of table topping supremacy.

The routine win this weekend for bitter rivals United over Fulham looks to seal the fact that the Premier League trophy will be presented in Manchester this May, but not yet to the Sky Blues. I have blogged before about the fact that this United team are not anywhere near the calibre of some previous Ferguson vintages...the Cantona team, the Treble winners, and the Rooney/Ronaldo team were all far, far stronger than this year; yet they have fought to get themselves into a position of such supremacy that it seems unlikely that anyone will be toppling them.

Fair play to United, maybe I have been too tough on them - it was pointed out to me recently by a learned friend that they have (when available) the best defence in the division, and an attack in Rooney, Berbatov and Hernandez that would be the envy of many sides. A good point, and vindicated by the position they find themselves in...but I can't shake off the feeling that they just have not been that good.

Which brings us back to City. As I say, I have full confidence in stating that they will win the Premier League in the next 5 years. The resources available to them, and the simple fact that the owners will have no qualms in throwing money at the problem until it's resolved, mean that success is surely inevitable.

The key for me though lies in Mancini modifying his approach...as he may be starting to do following the resounding recent win over Sunderland. I firmly believe that, when you have the quality of players as City do, a gung-ho all-out attacking approach will pay off more than it doesn't. Granted, it would be a suicidal thing to do against United, Chelsea, Arsenal, maybe even Spurs...but against the remaining 80% of the league it has to be the right way. Mancini could send out his team all guns blazing and find them 3-0 up within 30 mins. Bring off an attacker, throw on another world class holding midfielder, shut up shop. Job done.

It will be interesting to see which approach he faces tonight. Away at Anfield, no easy task even in one of Liverpool's grotty seasons...but surely a winnable game with the right approach. Mancini should go for it, for the remainder of the season send out an attacking team not only to ensure the next step of Champions League qualification is achieved, but perhaps even more so to send out a statement of intent. To the fans, to the rest of the league, and to his bosses.

A team to whom money is no object should, given the right approach and the right application, become successful. One day, soon, maybe they will. Tonight they could make a start on that...and perhaps go even further with the titanic semi final looming against United. For now though, they remain the underdogs in that town.

I wonder, for how long?

Jellyfish

Curious creatures, jellyfish. Weird, gelatinous blobs of gloop.

They float around, often looking beautiful and sometimes possessing a very real and serious threat and venom. Fundamentally however, they lack a backbone. Spineless. Floating along. Pathetic.

Arsenal FC have proven yet again that if they were an animal, they'd be the Jellyfish.

Due to a late running AFL match (mental sport, so much running...did you know there are 18 players per team on the pitch at once?!) the pub that I was in for West Ham vs Manchester United was not able to show the game until about 25 minutes had already been played.

Instantly we were surprised to see the scoreline reading 2-0 to the Hammers. Fair play, what a start, we have a game on our hands. At this point I made two predictions.

The first was borne out of years of experience, that 2-0 can be one of the most dangerous scorelines in football. A cushion that allows a team to begin dreaming of the three points, the famous victory...but one that can be halved in an instant. As soon as one goal is conceded, the momentum is entirely with the team chasing the game...in circumstances such as these when the team in the lead is the underdog; the collapse is almost inevitable.

With this in mind I asserted with great confidence that United only needed a goal before 60 minutes and they would win the match. Not as much confidence as the lad on the next table who backed his team at the ridiculously generous in game odds of 8-1, but fair play to him.

The second prediction was this:

'If United go on to win this game, I guarantee Arsenal don't beat Blackburn'

Oh look, morning has broken, let's check on the results. Quelle bloody surprise.

Jellyfish FC 0-0 Blackburn Rovers.

Pathetic, spineless, lacking in direction...yet again, Arsenal have fallen to pieces. The only team they have beaten since February is Leyton Orient. They have failed to score in three of their last four games. In that time, leaders Manchester United lost to both Chelsea and Liverpool - with a bit of fight, grit and leadership, the Gunners could be firmly in the driving seat in an enthralling title race. Instead, the championship is likely to go to the most average United team in my lifetime.

Arsenal fans must be sick and tired of it - I am, and I don't support them. At least some jellyfish can sting you...even kill you. This particular breed of jellyfish seems to lose all it's venom, every March, regular as clockwork. Losers.

The Weaver

Genius, thy name is Le Tissier

As you have probably been aware due to the fact that your life has no doubt been on hold for the past ten days, I've been a bit sidetracked with the old job hunt, meaning I've not updated this site as often as I should have.

I'd drafted a piece in response to the England win over Wales, largely reflecting on the merits of Ooh Scotty Parker and his brilliant throwback hairstyle and no-nonsense likeability. Obviously I failed to get that posted in a timely fashion and after a few days it seemed pointless to reflect on a game that was almost instantly forgettable.

Truth is, with the international break I've been scratching around a little bit, trying to find something to form the topic for my next post. Nothing much was grabbing my attention or sparking my inspiration.

My muse came in the form that it so often has over the past 20 years.

Everyone knows my hero is Matthew Le Tissier, Southampton's greatest ever player and without doubt one of the most technically gifted and outstandingly brilliant footballers of the 90s. Even Xavi says so.

Each week, the excellent Guardian Sport website posts a column called 'Classic Youtube' in which they showcase a range of sporting clips from the hilarious to the nostalgic to the downright awesome. Imagine if you will my excitement when the image used to link to this week's Classic Youtube was none other than Le God himself.

The headline feature on the column this week? The video below. It features Matt's early years, a lot of goals that you might not have seen. Set to the music of Mozart. I don't know what the plural of genius is...geniuses? Geniui? Whatever it is, I now know exactly what it looks and sounds like.

Enjoy