The Soccer Blog: Crumpets

Showing posts with label Crumpets. Show all posts

Thursday, 14 April 2011

Tea and Crumpets with The Arsenal Offside

By: Noel | April 14th, 2011
Tweet

With a match against the only side near the top of the table I don’t instinctively dislike fast approaching, it seemed a good time to move away from the more formal trappings of our last few pre-match conversations here at The Liverpool Offside. To that end, we recently sat down for a light snack and a bit of banter with Martin of The Arsenal Offside. After enjoying a delightful foie gras and pear compote appetizer, we moved on to ham hock terrine with crispy quail eggs for the main course. It had just begun to dawn on me that these lofty Arsenal sorts might in fact dine rather better than their prawn sandwich eating counterparts over in Chelsea when Martin began to choke on his crispy quail egg. Once that was out of the way, though, we were able to move on to the conversation…

8 year olds, Dude.

In the Congo, local legends speak of the Dongola Miso, an inhuman beast with terrifying eyes that stalks the night, making off with children who dare to stay up past their bedtime. Meanwhile in London, a certain football club’s manager has had tales told of his penchant for stalking those not yet fully developed. Now, while it would of course be beneath me to make some crude joke as to his particular predilections as so many have before, I am nonetheless left to wonder why it is that certain sections of Arsenal’s support insist on employing a phrase such as “Up the Arse!” when it is quite nearly impossible for one to thereafter avoid conflating the two. So: Arsene Wenger on one hand. And the love that dare not speak its name for fear of being blacklisted by IT departments far and wide on the other. Is there any reason Arsenal fans should want to make a point of this?

Hmmm. Now that you mention it, I believe in my younger days I may have seen an adult film called “Dongola Miso”… Wait, where were we–oh yeah, that phrase. Eh, it is a bit unfortunate, but I don’t think that many Arsenal fans actually still use it–I certainly don’t see it in the comments or on Twitter all that often. I think Come on Arsenal, or Come on You Gunners, or Fuck Manuel Almunia, has largely replaced it.

“Fuck Manuel Almunia.” How quaint. Anyhow: Andrei Arshavin. He’s either the world’s most beloved misogynist midget, or he’s the world’s most beloved three-month old baby with giantism who can miraculously play football and could have a non-ironic conversation with Borat. Either way, he really only seems to perform against Liverpool. Or at least that was the case in the past, when he seemed at least competent against much of the rest of the league. With many considering him somewhat less than that recently, should we still be terrified that he’ll score a hat-trick on Sunday before making weird facial expressions that suggest he’s either exceptionally happy or needs to have his diaper changed?

It’s weird. I’ve said for the past couple of years that Arshavin is one of my least-favorite players on the current Arsenal team, because he doesn’t work hard, doesn’t track back, doesn’t run much when he doesn’t have the ball, etc. But a funny thing has happened over the past couple of months–while you still won’t see him go on many gut-busting runs the length of the pitch, I think he’s actually been quietly pretty effective away from the ball lately. And ironically, his finishing has been pretty shit during that time. But he does lead the team in assists, and only Nani has more Premiership assists than Arshavin this year. And he does have history on his side against Liverpool. A hat trick would be pretty stunning, but I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if he carved open the defense with a couple of brilliant passes.

He can hear you talking about him.

There have been growing rumours that Arsene Wenger could find himself out of the manger’s job soon, as though he were a police officer or military commander who couldn’t quite cut it in the field and so found himself promoted to a nice little pay packet at a comfortable desk instead. Is there a chance this could actually happen should Arsenal again end the year trophyless?

No. Your question presupposes that failing to win trophies is a fireable offense at Arsenal. Which presupposes that the board of directors’ primary goal is to win trophies. And I’m just not sure that’s the case. Much to the chagrin of many Arsenal fans, I think the board may be perfectly happy by being competitive in a number of competitions, and to keep cashing the Champions League TV checks and turning a profit, which Wenger has never failed to do. And by all accounts he has a great relationship with the board, so I just don’t see it happening. And frankly, although I’m not sure what fans think really matters that much, I think the discontent with Wenger has mainly been a vocal minority. I think most people still definitely are on board with him and want him to continue, although I doubt many people are still blind to some very real flaws that he has as a manager.

In the mid 19th-century, classically trained French chefs introduced both beef and western cooking techniques to what had before then been an exceptionally insular Japanese culinary tradition. One of the most lasting impressions was made by the French chef’s knife, a multi-purpose tool that could do many tasks nearly as well as the dozens of specialty knives Japanese chefs spent a lifetime mastering the use of. Combined with creeping industrialisation and the growth of a middle class, this multi-purpose knife was seen to have great potential for a new class of Japanese housewife who would have neither the time, money, nor ability to utilise the myriad traditional Japanese knives but would also have more need to prepare complex dishes than those in the lower classes. However, the French chef’s knife was still seen as dauntingly large for a housewife, and perhaps worse for the still largely xenophobic culture it was foriegn. The end result was the creation of a knife that combined the French blade with the pattern of a Japanese vegetable knife to create a new single multi-purpose tool. It was a poor compromise that didn’t multi-task as well as the French knife or deal with vegetables as well as its Japanese predecessor, largely created to serve a market while satisfying concerns that had nothing to do with its actual utility as a kitchen tool. While it is today largely shunned by serious cooks in Japan and unheard of in professional kitchens, in recent years this knife has been pushed on a Western audience by celebrity chefs marketing a cute and approachable knife primarily to women and not worried about its actual utility as a kitchen tool, happy just to make money selling impractical Santokus to people who mostly don’t understand they’re buying a sub-par compromise whose raison d’être would likely have Andrei Arshavin nodding along.

Anyhow, is there much chance the FA, English national team, and London media will ever understand Jack Wilshire?

Is Jack supposed to be the inferior knife? Anyway, um… we love Jack. Jack is awesome. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s been our best player this season, but he has been awfully close, and I think what is going to make him such a star isn’t his talent or skills–although he has both in spades–but his attitude. I’ve said over and over again this season that if we had 10 more players with Jack’s attitude/mindset, we would never lose a game. And I believe it. More than any other player on the team, he leaves everything he has on the pitch every game, and you can just tell that losing really eats away at him. His game is still far from perfect–he doesn’t shoot enough, he is still prone to sloppy, dangerous tackles–and he has no fear of 50/50 tackles and it’s a miracle he hasn’t gotten badly hurt from that yet. But I really do think he may turn into the English Pirlo, and he’ll be a fixture at Arsenal–and captain someday–for a long, long time.

fabio capello bathing suit beach england

Coach. Mentor.
Molder of England.

As for whether he’ll be understood–well, I’m not sure the FA, the English national team, or the media ever will understand him. I’m not sure we really understand him–coming up, I think everyone thought he was the long-term heir to the advanced playmaker/support striker role which Cesc fills now. But his tenacity actually works so well in a deeper position where he can fight for, and win, more balls off the opposition, and his pace and hustle allow him to join the attack without getting caught too far out of position, that I do think he might be best served long-term in a deep-lying playmaker role. But I certainly don’t think you want to deploy him like Capello has where he is the lone deep-lying midfielder and has all the responsibility for shielding the backline, because that’s not really his game and squanders so much of his talent.

I think the all heart and hustle and not a brain cell in sight 4-4-2 midfielder so beloved of the English footballing establishment was the inferior knife. And the media were the idiots trying to shovel shit on the public while pretending it’s gold. Though I do suppose that one is rather open to interpretation.

In any case, given that Arsenal has so far choked against Birmingham and had all the backbone of a wet rag whilst dropping out of the FA cup against United, not to mention managing all of 7% possession against Barcelona at Camp Nou after teasing supporters with a strong first leg in the Champions League, and on top of all that recently managed three straight lifeless draws in the league to effectively hand the title to United… Well, is it fair to expect Arsenal won’t be bothered showing up against Liverpool on Sunday? Or have we reached the point where the pressure’s off, the title’s out of reach, and the Gunners will make a valiant late stand to give all the fans hope for next season?

I’m surprised that a Liverpool fan is so eager to hand Manchester United their 19th league title, Noel. It seems to me that the sensible thing, since Liverpool has very little to play for, would be for you guys to roll over and not show up on Sunday, so we can win and use that momentum to go on, win our match in hand, and be confident and in good form when we host Manchester United. We beat them in that match, then we’re just 1 match in hand with all the momentum. Hey, stop laughing–it could happen! But we have to beat you guys first–why wouldn’t you want to help us out here? If you do, and win the trophy, we’ll send you a fruit basket or something.

In all seriousness, I don’t really know what to expect–this is the time when we pretty much completely packed it in and stopped playing last season, and we have been dreadful since beating Barcelona two months ago. Hopefully getting Szczesny and Djourou back will be a big boost, and we can raise our games against you guys, because I know you’ve been playing quite well lately, and will give us a test. Hope it’s a good match, and they entertain us. Best of luck to you–while I could not match your wit, I very much enjoyed this question exchange. I’ve always had a soft spot for Liverpool and, aside from Sunday, hope you guys have a strong finish to the rest of the season.

Kind of you to say, though I do believe some would insist that wit is just a nice way to say “pompous jackass.” Even then, it’s largely down to a strict drug regimen and as such owes a greater debt to my various doctors than it does to any natural talent. In any case, it was good to get a respected Arsenal take on matters, and let’s all hope you manage to somehow take the title this season. Even if I could never see clear to hoping for a Liverpool loss in the match ahead and will be baying as loud as anyone for blood and victory.

And I suppose that wraps up another inscrutable edition of Tea and Crumpets, though for those who just can’t get enough–and I do know that that means you–my return engagement is up for your perusal over on The Arsenal Offside.

Some Related Liverpool Posts:Tea and Crumpets with Surreal FootballTea and Crumpets with the Everton OffsideFebruary! Winning! Substance Abuse!Tea and Crumpets with All Action No PlotFrom London With Love

Category: Premier League, Special Features

Tags: Andrei Arshavin, Arsenal, Arsene Wenger, Batshit Crazy Ramblings, I Can't Feel My Face, Jack Wilshire, Just Lay Back And Think Of England, Manchester United, Noel's really a bit of a dick, Potentially Foolish Ideas, Premier League, Special Features, Tea and Crumpets, Thankless Tasks, This Will End In Tears
Tweet « New Away Kit Revealed, Debut Goals, and Other Thursday Notes | Home | AvinashNice take on the keeper question on that blog. :D (Have been a reader for almot an year, Just started Commenting.)NoelGood to have your around, commenting or otherwise.MartinReally enjoyed it, Noel, your questions were great and thanks so much for reciprocating over at our site. It was a really fun back and forth. And thanks for calling me "respected."

The only part I found offensive was the implication that I would eat foie gras. Duck liberation now!NoelWell, to be fair I don't have a whole lot of say in the matter, as all I can do is Google a stadium's food and pick the most obnoxiously exclusive items on offer.

It was fun in any case.MartinI hadn't bothered to look at the link, but up until today I had no idea they served foie gras at the Emirates. For some reason I find this way more offensive than the Silvestre signing. You have fulfilled your educational quotient for the day, good sir.blog comments powered by Disqus

Harry Redknapp, England manager? (Awful writing) Is It Too Early to Get Excited About Sturridge? Denmark 1 - 2 England (Via Hamlet) more news...

Search The Offside

Thursday, 31 March 2011

Tea and Crumpets with Surreal Football

By: Noel | March 31st, 2011
Tweet

When my assistant first mentioned we were to meet The Baggies, I must admit I found myself at a loss. Still, I thought, if the lads at the FA saw fit to allow semi-professional footballers moonlighting as grocery store bag boys to compete, well, who was I to complain? My assistant, though, said it might simply be a nickname of historical import. After telling him in no uncertain terms I would call the police if I ever saw him on my property again, I endeavored to check if his insolence might hold a kernel of truth, getting as far as discovering they began life as The Strollers of all things before tiring from the exertion.

Still, with an original nickname like strollers, one would suppose they weren’t bag boys at the local market. Though it had begun to seem a more nefarious moniker, perhaps. As though it might be a club founded by drug dealers at home strolling darkened alleys in search of customers to sell baggies of illegal poison to. Or they might have been homeless mothers, I suppose. But I do ramble. In the end, I decided to seek out Ethan Dean-Richards, the internet’s most surreal authority on all things West Brom, to see if he might be willing to sit down for a chat about the upcoming match and perhaps do me the favour of explaining this peculiar nugget of nomenclature, amongst other things…

Perhaps I could do you that favour. I won’t, though. Not because I’m looking to preserve the exclusivity of the knowledge and not because I’m looking to subvert the ‘answers’ section of this ‘question and answer’ session, turning the ‘answers’ into self-indulgent piffle. Rather, because if I gave you an answer that pretended to be definitive, it would be a lie. Lying is fun, but I would never lie to the Liverpool Offside. The stories I’ve heard are the same bland ones as everyone else: they’re called the Baggies because:

The men that collected entrance money at the Hawthorns did so using bags–or something like that.

Supporters worked in the local ironworks and because of the intense heat, tended to wear very loose, baggy clothing–or something.

The team wore baggy shorts or shirts for various reasons–or something.

West Brom for life, yo.

Moving on, I also understand your stadium is referred to as “The Shrine.” Now, aside from stirring in one’s mind images of internet lowlives building temples to their favourite model or actress or sports blogger, constructing great towers out of candles and pictures and locks of hair all held together by love and various byproducts thereof, it also brings to mind something of the religious experience. Harmonies and chants and the masses joined in hope for some eventual glory as recompense for their betters monopolising the corporeal glory. That sort of thing. So I suppose there might be some singing coming from the stands that those following along would do well to pay attention for, be it for its moving or uplifting or just enjoyably distracting nature?

I enjoy the fact that it’s always appropriate to insult Wolves, whoever the opponent:

“Stevey Bull’s a tatter, he wears a tatter’s hat. He plays for Wolverhampton, ‘cus he’s a fucking twat.”

“Albion ‘til I die, Albion ‘til I die. We’re blue and white, the Wolves are shite, I’m Albion ‘til I die.”

If that’s not wit, I don’t know what is.

Quite right. I think we can all agree the chance to shout “‘cus he’s a fucking twat,” with it being at least somewhat socially acceptable, is a chance that shouldn’t be passed up. Now, I wouldn’t normally be so crass as to trade in the words of those we get our sporting enjoyment on the backs of, but my assistant–while he was still my assistant, naturally–by chance passed along the thoughts of a certain Steven Reid. He’s some player or other for your West Bromwich side, and so doesn’t especially matter. Except that his speech matches–nearly word for word–many of Roy Hodgson’s bouts of verbal effluvium from his time at Liverpool:

“Roy has got big experience and we all know he has managed top clubs–Inter Milan and Liverpool to name a couple. He has great respect from the lads and we’re working day in, day out on shape and pattern… Everyone knows their jobs and their positions, wherever the ball is on the park, and that has shown in the last few weeks.”

Steve Bull, a highly regarded former Wolves player.

One can only imagine the dark and perverted arts that devilish manager has employed to brainwash his charges. And while I know our most knowledgeable fans in the world were well above falling for such cheap lies and parlor tricks, he has hoodwinked other, lesser groups of supporters before. One does wonder, then, if the various unwashed who find themselves beholden to your particular stripes have yet fallen prey to his tongue?

I’m out of touch with reality and what ‘real people’ think, but I can offer you what I think of Roy Hodgson. I liked him as ‘That Nice Old Man Who Was Doing Quite Well At Fulham’ but it turns out that’s because he wasn’t doing it at West Brom. Hodgson is about tidy football and getting solid results, but I liked messy football and wonky results. Under Mowbray and Di Matteo, it always felt like West Brom were a bit of an oddball club, and I liked that, now they’re just going to be boring old mid-table muddlers, or worse, Boring Old Relegated Club.

I mean, it was funny when he was at Liverpool, but now Those Jokes I made are looking ill-judged.

Speaking of West Bromwich players, most Liverpool fans will at least be aware of former Red Scott Carson in goal. After all, he did play for ours for a time, and as such if he could pose a threat it only stands to reason he would still be on the payroll. Aside then from the danger a squad full of names as mesmerizing as Gianni Zuiverloon, Peter Odemwingie, Youssuf Mulumbu, and Chris Brunt might distract Liverpool in their preparations, is there anybody you see as likely to pose us a particular problem? Perhaps a 6′5″ behemoth of a center forward your defense can aimlessly punt long-balls to?

Odemwingie is, let’s face it, going to score, and Chris Brunt is good, but Roy does like playing Marc Antoine Fortune up front, so you’ll probably just be dealing with crosses that he gets nowhere near all afternoon. I like it best when Jonas Olsson starts taking long free kicks.

Turdus philomelos. Insert your own joke here.

The throstle, mavis, song thrush. Turdus philomelos. Call it what you will, it is but a tiny bird that eats worms and berries and builds its quaint mud-lined nests, and it has been affixed to your badge from the beginning. It also, quite self-evidently, rather pales beside the grand and majestic glory of the liverbird, a mythical icon to swell a man’s breast and make women grow faint. Is it that very pride in being exceptionally quaint that drove your club to seek out your new mid-table maestro of a manager? Was the threat of the likes of Tony Mowbray and Roberto Di Matteo slowly building the club up the table over the seasons as an attractive, footballing side simply too much of an offense for such a mild and unassuming self-image?

Shit, I went and answered this one already in one of my previous answers. Didn’t you just hate that when you did it at school because it made you sure you’d got the other one wrong? Bah.

As a side note, Turdus philomelos beats liverbat every time.

We’ll have to agree to disagree, I suppose. About the latter, obviously, and not the former, though I do find that things go far more smoothly once you decide that anybody who thinks you’re wrong is himself not entitled to an opinion. In any case, as all and sundry well know, a proper Roy Hodgson side sits and waits and keeps its shape, dreaming of clean sheets and famous draws. Attack and attractive football is, of course, completely out of the question. As such, do you expect a gentlemanly nil-nil draw is a realistic dream for his charges? And do you expect to find yourselves as thoroughly bitter and twisted in future years as some of those who follow Liverpool now are?

Liverpool are going to win. Roy knows that, but he’s going to make it utterly painful. It’s going to be 0-1 with the goal coming from a deflected free-kick. I bloody hate football.

Well, there you go, then. I rather expect that however things go on Saturday, there will be face rubbing involved. Also, either way, Ethan will remain one of the best writers on the internets, and when my reciprocal efforts go up I’ll be sure to pass along a link.

Some Related Liverpool Posts:Tea and Crumpets with All Action No PlotTea and Crumpets with the Everton OffsideFebruary! Winning! Substance Abuse!Tea and Crumpets with The Blackpool OffsideFrom London With Love

Category: Match Previews, Premier League, Special Features

Tags: Batshit Crazy Ramblings, I Can't Feel My Face, Match Previews, Noel's really a bit of a dick, Potentially Foolish Ideas, Premier League, Roy Hodgson, Special Features, Tea and Crumpets, West Bromwich Albion
Tweet « The Purpose of Lucas, Revisited | Home | blog comments powered by Disqus