NFL week 9 – the Velvet Bear

I don't really want to write about the Indianapolis v New England game, but it is hard not to lead on the most hyped game in NFL history. For the first time, two teams who had gone unbeaten for the first eight weeks of the season met and the US media simply couldn't get enough of it. In fact, so overblown was the hype surrounding the game that even football analysts were saying by Sunday morning that they just wanted the game over and done with.

This, you will appreciate, is saying something.

In the end the game was something of a letdown. There had been much talk of a game where over 95 points were scored, largely based upon the potency of the Colts' offense and the fact that the Patriots hadn't scored fewer than 34 points in any game this season. Inevitably, though, the game failed to live up to expectations. Both sides were far too familiar with one another and the Colts proved that, even with a defense missing two first choice players, they could handle the Pats' much vaunted attack. Indeed, score of the day came from Colts running back Joseph Addai, who ran through the entire Pats defense for a 60 yard score – helped by an attempted tackle by Patriots' linebacker Rodney Harrison which missed Addai but took out three teammates.

Ultimately, the Pats ran out 24-20 victors, with Tom Brady keeping up his streak of throwing for three touchdowns in every game this season. Fittingly, the winning touchdown was scored by Wes Welker, the Patriots' undersized wide receiver who is already a strong contender for player of the season, despite the large number of better known players on his team.

Far more exciting was the game over in Minnesota, where the Vikings entertained the Chargers. Everything pointed to this being a thoroughly awful game – a team that can't pass (San Diego) against one who can't defend the pass. What it did have, though, was the first match up between the NFL's finest running back, LaDanian Tomlinson, and its fastest rising star – the Vikings' rookie RB Adrian Peterson. Tomlinson, playing for a side which, on paper, is vastly superior, was widely expected to win this contest. Instead, Peterson wiped the floor with him, running in three touchdowns on his way to a league record 296 yards of rushing.

LT had the consolation of going over for the game's opening score, his 107th career touchdown, taking him to 4th on the all-time NFL list. Victory to the Vikings by 35-17 also featured a concussion for Tavaris Jackson after he unwisely attempted to steal a first down and collected both of Shawn Merriman's knees to the back of his head instead, a touchdown for the NFL's youngest receiver, Sidney Rice, thrown by 3rd choice Vikes QB Brooks Bollinger, and Antonio Cromartie setting a record which can never be beaten with the longest touchdown run in NFL history, running in a missed field goal from the back of his own endzone – 109 yards in total and you can't run for more without going out of bounds.

Elsewhere in the NFL

- The Lions destroy the Broncos 44-7 and in doing so almost end Jay Cutler's season, as the Denver QB suffers a badly bruised leg in a tackle;

- Another setback for Cincinnati as they lose yet again, going down 33-21 to Buffalo and have star wide receiver Chad Johnson taken off with a neck injury which could rule him out of next weekend's matches;

- A fourth straight win for a resurgent New Orleans as the Saints beat the Jaguars 41-24;

- Life for the Carolina Panthers keeps on getting worse. First, Vinny Testaverde injures a foot and they are forced to bring back David Carr, then Carr ends up with concussion after being sacked 7 times by the Titans, of all people;

- I'm getting slightly bored of writing about Brett Favre records. After this weekend's win over the Kansas City Chiefs he has now beaten every other side in the NFL at least once during his career. Only Messrs Brady and Manning have managed to do that;

- The Chiefs also lost their star running back Larry Johnson with an ankle injury which threatens to put an end to his season;

- Kicker Sean Suisham's career to date has been distinguished by him appearing to be the only kicker in either league who was actually afraid to kick the ball. Hopefully, a 46 yard field goal in overtime to bring the Redskins a much-needed victory over the Jets, coupled with four other goals in ordinary time, will help cure him;

- 'Pacman' Jones and his lawyers have met with NFL Headmaster Roger Goodall with a view to getting his suspension reduced. Frankly, this is optimism at its highest. Jones is still being investigated by police after a nightclub bouncer was shot by one of his entourage back in February – although that has led to one of the year's funniest lawsuits, with the bouncer suing the NFL for allowing Jones to be paid so much that he could afford to visit a strip club!

- With a nice symmetry, the Bengals' wide receiver Chris Henry is allowed to return from suspension in the same week that the league's other Chris Henry, the Titans' player of that ilk, gets a four game ban for failing a drugs test;

- Also visiting the Headmaster this week were the Jaguars' Marcus Stroud, who got a four match ban for the same reasons, plus LaRon Landry of the Redskins and LaJuan Ramsey of Philadelphia, who both were fined for unnecessary roughness during this weekend's matches;

- And waiting anxiously outside the study door, exercise books discreetly placed down their shorts, are Jaguars pair Justin Durrant and Richard Collier, who both managed to get arrested over the weekend;

- Tank Johnson's ban is also over and he'll be a Cowboy this weekend;
Finally, such is the interest in the Patriots' unbeaten run, the NFL has now moved all of their remaining matches to Sunday evening prime time, presumably so that they can ensure Tom Brady is well rested after a heavy night impregnating models.

Sporting perfection - Bluedaddy

I cannot consider myself a rugby fan. I played just once at school, and my fading memory won’t permit me to recall what age. All I can vividly remember of that ‘lesson’ was a more experienced and muscular boy employing what I later came to know is called a hand-off, to repel my dismal attempt at a tackle.


It was cold, I touched the ball not once, and I have never really properly engaged with the sport ever since, as either player or spectator. For some reason that causes me regret.


It shouldn’t really matter. There are plenty of other sports to get excited about, and several that I have played to greatly differing standards.


At school I loved badminton, with its thrilling speed and its delicious balance between powerful smash and deft drop shot. Table tennis was great too: a game that seemed to reward practice quite unlike any other, and drew me in to its metronomic rhythms and its trademark pops and squeaks. Plus I could play at home on our pull-out dining table.


Cricket was always more fun on the driveway down the side of our house than in the park. My brother and I could cut, pull and drive to our hearts’ content knowing that the slowly disintegrating fence, garage door and garden wall across the road were tireless fielders. Only our justifiably angry neighbours Mrs and Mrs M could halt our endless test matches, as we perfected the Derek Underwood splay-footed delivery or Alan Knott’s tics, stretches and sweeps.


And of course football was my daily bread.


But today a thread on GU reminded me of why I regret neglecting rugby. I revisited one of the greatest sporting moments in my lifetime, up there with Maradona’s second goal vs England in 86, the Headingley test in 81, Coe vs Ovett in and around 1980, and Ali vs Foreman in 74.


From the almost miraculous pick-up and mesmeric side-stepping of Phil Bennett, to the Dawes dummy, the determination of Tom David’s last gasp slingshot allied to Quinnell’s uncanny catch and release, and finally Gareth’s Edwards’ express train denying a last desperate All Black attempt to tackle, topped off with a magnificent dive into the corner.


Perfection


It never fails to bring a lump to my throat, and often, like this morning, a tear to my eye. I don’t know if the fact that the Barbarians are a composite team rather than a national side makes a difference to the intense humanity of the moment. Clearly nostalgia for the carefree innocence of my childhood also burnishes the memory. But whatever it is I can never tire of watching it.


Maybe that is the problem; rugby could never be that good again.

Old Age Pensioner left breathless by exotic Babes - premcorrespondent

The current incarnation of the Arsenal are picking up notices reminiscent of those handed out to Matt Busby's youthful charges some 50 years ago. With Wenger as Philosopher King and Cesc as a 21st century Duncan Edwards, those plaudits are not too fanciful. Of course, Busby's Babes weren't to see out their destiny, cut down at Munich. When the 50 year anniversary rolls round in February, look out for one of your correspondent's favourite football clips. At an Old Trafford re-opened less than eleven years earlier after wartime bombing, representatives of the German medical staff who treated the victims of the crash are introduced to the crowd. They walk around the perimeter to tumultuous applause from the terraces as they sheepishly wave, palpably overcome with the reception. And there's a lump in my throat just writing that.

So it was High Noon at Highbury (well 12.45pm at the Emirates, but that sounds like an appointment with a powerpoint presentation) for this week's Match of the Millenium as the Wenger Babes faced up to the Old Age Pensioner's XI. After a dull first period, the game came to life with Little Cesc's clever equaliser just after half-time. Quite how the Boy-King was left alone on the penalty spot to pass the ball into the net is anyone's guess. Sir Alex stopped swearing at the officials long enough to introduce ace-card Louis Saha, who soon played in Evra to give Ronaldo an open goal for 1-2 and that looked like the match, with just some bullying for the officials from Sir Alex (preparing the ground for the return match you see) to occupy us. But up popped Willam Gallas' silly haircut for a smart finish (and a smarter call from the linesman) and it's 2-2, honours even and off to a whinging press conference for the managers and the pub for the fans. The quietly impressive Avram Grant's Chelsea, 0-2 winners over a eerily passive Wigan, proved to be the beneficiaries, along with the inevitable one billion viewers who saw a fine game in the end. (Are they the same one billion viewers who tune into Miss World and the Opening Ceremony of the Olympics?) Such passivity at the JJB cost Chris Hutchings his job - nobody was surprised; everyone was sympathetic.

The Toon Army had barely sat down at St James' before they were up again and storming out as Portsmouth took advantage of defending that would have shamed a Beach Football team to take a 0-3 lead in the first 11 minutes. It ended 1-4 with Big Sam looking as out of place in the North-East as Happy 'Arry looks suited to the South-West. With Jose Mourinho still not employed, Rafa Benitez picked a bad week to shuffle his pack (though forced by injuries) and serve up a monochrome performance, as Liverpool racked up a fifth draw in their last seven league games. With Rafa's team treading water in seventh, would it be wrong to claim that Liverpool's entire season could finish with a midweek draw against Besiktas? Even if a win is secured, Liverpool appear too reliant on the goals of Torres to mount a challenge for the PL or CL.

Elsewhere in the Premier League, there were some fine goals and empty seats. Tottenham welcomed Juande Ramos by typically conceding a lead to draw with Middlesborough - Dimitar Berbatov, left out of the starting XI, was unavailable for comment, but might be available for Liverpool. Injury-hit Fulham picked up a much needed win over Reading at the Cottage, where Mark Clattenburg showed no feel for the game at all in sending off an 18 year-old debutant for a marginal second yellow in the last play of the match - I hope Clattenburg enjoyed that frisson of power. It was Villa's turn to beat Derby, which they did by a predictable 2-0, but Everton left it late to run out 3-1 winners over Birmingham City, the last goal coming from James Vaughan on his return from injury - mark that name.

Sunday's game saw West Ham live up to the stereotype by conceding a late equaliser to a desperate Anelkaless Bolton - who might just have the dog in them to fight their way safety. Sunderland's manager has the dog in him, but does his team? After their 1-0 reverse at Eastlands, they hover above the trapdoor with the fatal "points fewer than games" ratio and overly dependent on Kenwynne Jones for goals. Manchester City, incredibly, are third just two points off the lead - Sven knows his football, as well as his babes.

Why Chelsea and Liverpool are what’s wrong with Football, and other rants - Kokomo

No, it’s not what you think.

Last Saturday, Chelsea and Liverpool were drawn together in the quarter finals of the Carling Cup. These two teams are undoubtedly two of the best in Europe over recent years, having won, or been runner’s up in the four major competitions 11 out of 24 possible occasions in the last three years (and it would have been more if one of them hadn’t knocked the other out of a competition at semi final stage three times in that period). Both are within a handful of points of the top this time round too, having only lost two games between them. Yet, I defy anyone (myself included) to have reacted with anything more positive than a mildly disinterested groan when that draw was made.

Why? It is true that they have played each other many, many times of late, but we have had two ridiculously tense European semi finals, a high quality FA cup semi final, and a five goal thriller in the final of the Carling Cup. Make no mistake, when these two meet in a knockout game; it is high drama, high quality, or both.

Familiarity has clearly bred contempt; let’s also make no mistake, there have been some pretty turgid league and group stage encounters in that time.

However, surely we should all be a little less jaded? But then, have two teams ever been as criticised while being so successful?

Let’s look at Liverpool first. They haven’t won the league since before Theo Walcott first spat out his dummy, and were truly terrible in the latter years of Houllier’s reign. For the last three years they have been managed by a Spaniard who has delivered a lot of success to the club, added at least five top class players to the first team, and developed another into one of the top defenders in Europe. He had to sell his best forward, but there has clearly been a massive improvement in the squad. He has won two major trophies, in very entertaining fashion it has to be said, and been to two other major finals. He also delivered the best league points performance at the club since 1988, and finished third twice in a row, which is better than an any time since 1990.

He must be universally loved by his own fans, and respected by opposition then? You would think so, but instead we have the likes of ‘Big Sam’ Allardyce telling us that, if he hadn’t won a load of trophies he would be in trouble now (sometimes the mind really does boggle). There are many accusations consistently levelled at Benitez, by his own fans, opposition fans, the media, ex-players, the chuckle brothers at match of the day, and probably the Lord God himself. These tend to be one or more of the following; he rotates too much; he doesn’t understand our league; he has wasted loads of money on expensive Spaniards; he has had hundreds of millions to spend and should have done better; zonal marking is crap; he misuses his captain; he doesn’t know his best team; his team plays ugly football. All of these are easily refuted (and don’t worry, I won’t do it here) with cold hard fact, except for the last one, which is subjective, and we will come to later. It is also an undeniable fact though, that he has not won the league yet with Liverpool (is there anyone, by the way, who expected that Liverpool, in the state they were in, would win the league in his first three seasons?). And until this fact is reversed, it seems that he is always on trial, and fair game for any criticism you care to take from the top of your head.

Chelsea meanwhile, have had unprecedented success in three years under Mourinho, including two titles, an FA Cup, two Carling Cups, and two European Cup semi-finals. They also scored more goals, and garnered more points than any team has ever done before in the modern era. But that was apparently not enough entertainment for his paymasters.

There are many theories as to the motives of Roman Abramovich in buying Chelsea, but for me he seeks two things through this venture; glory and to be loved. And don’t try to tell me that he is a football purist. No football purist would force players on a coach. Mourinho wasn’t sacked because his boss wanted more pretty triangles, he was sacked because the media and public didn’t love Chelsea. And the media and the public doesn’t love Chelsea because they decided that the team was not entertaining (only true in the sense that they won most games comfortably and with little tension).

And the media and the public did that, because the media and the public are idiots quite frankly.
The modern, instant access age has some plus points. It has made Gary Naylor a minor celebrity among left wing cricket lovers for one thing, but it also allows journalists to tell as that Liverpool are ‘pathetic’ because they are not attacking much when one nil up against the league leaders. It allows knee jerk opinion pieces that tell us that Chelsea are more entertaining when they thrashed Man City than they were when they thrashed lots of other teams because Mourinho isn’t in charge anymore. Ultimately, it has taken what little objective, considered analysis there was in the game, and replaced it with ill-considered, dumbed down groupthink.

And everyone reacts in kind. When a team is not playing perfectly, there are in crisis. Manager’s are castigated and mocked when they make big game winning substitutions. Chairman, who have never been the most savvy football men, react to external pressure to create internal pressure. Players are told that they are unsettled, and it unsettles them.

And where has all this got us? This process, which I personally trace back to Andy Gray’s white pen, via Townsend’s tactics truck, has given us inpatient players, inpatient agents, inpatient fans, inpatient managers and inpatient clubs. Which means that only four clubs can win the league (and most likely the cups too) for the foreseeable future. The Martin Jols of this world are sacked for not taking a desperately poor Tottenham team from the bottom three to the top three in three seasons, but who would have?

I am all for the knee jerk "why did he shoot there the inbred ****" terrace moans, but I am not all for booing your team off when they are only drawing at half time away to a team that have previously won their past seven games.

And finally, when did teams only become truly champions when they not only won games, but also had to win them with a bit of fancy footwork? In fact, in many quarters a bit of fancy footwork is better than actually winning games, because apparently we are more entertained by a nutmeg than we are by a net rippling. I blame Pepsi challenge keepie-uppie culture for this one. If all the people who prefer to see fancy skills but little tension want to fuck off and watch Basketball slam dunk competitions, then I think the rest of us who prefer a bit of tension and pressure would be most grateful.

Again, I am not against skilful players. I can enjoy a Peter Crouch step over just as much as the next middle class fan, but I would prefer my team to win before it starts thinking about the purity of the beautiful game, as dictated by the Guardian/Pele/some Spanish big cheese/Alan Green/internet chat rooms frequented by hardcore ‘EPL’ (arrgghhhh) fans from the US, India, Africa and China etc.

I am determined to end on a positive note. On Sunday I watched the last half hour of Roma’s game at Empoli. A thrilling match ended 2-2 with a last minute equaliser from the home side. Now that was a football match. Neither team was particularly expensively put together, but the skill level was high, very fast paced (I think the difference between Italian fast paced and English fast paced is that English teams generate pace by kicking the ball hard, while Italians generate pace by running quickly with it), and both teams committed, and hardly even moaning at the ref (yes, even those dirty Italians). The fans were waving flags that didn’t have to be installed under the seats, and the chairman nearly had a fist fight. At last, here was an advert for football, not the overwrought battle of machismo at the Emirates (THE EMIRATES!!! Some things really make me want to scream, and naming your stadium after a Saudi Arabian airline is one of them).

Yes, football has a future, and it is in Empoli. Or something.

NFL Week 8 - with extra Wembley - The Velvet Bear

This week, it was all about Wembley - the players, the lights, the rain, the records, the mud, the cheerleaders, the mud, the spectacle, the rain, the 26 foot tall Jason Taylor, the mud, the 1972 Dolphins, the cheerleaders, the mud and the rain.

The game itself wasn’t much to watch. The weather saw to that. Torrential rain from just before kick off until just after full time made passing the ball a lottery, whilst the saturated Wembley turf, clearly unsuited to having real men play on it, cut up badly enough to make running difficult, too. Even so, the Giants were so dominant and the Dolphins so badly hampered by injuries that the 13-10 scoreline came nowhere close to reflecting the Giants’ dominance.

The game was worth attending for a number of reasons, though - the least of them being the historic nature of the occasion. First of all, after four years Eli Manning did something Peyton would never do - he ran more than 10 yards for a touchdown. Then there was the surprise emergence of a new star in the making, Fins running back Jesse Chatman replacing the injured Reggie Jones and being arguably the game’s MVP.

In all, though, it wasn’t a good day for the big name players. Jason Taylor was kept in check by the strong Giants’ offensive line. Eli, that run apart, only completed 8 of 22 passes. Plaxico Burress lived up to his ‘Plaxiglass’ nickname by going to pieces when put under pressure, whilst Jeremy Shockey was well marshalled by the Fins defence. Chatman apart, the Fins had nothing on offense, largely due to QB Cleo Lemon having a nightmare day which saw him fumble one snap and comically throw the ball backwards on another play.

The strangest thing about the whole day was that the Dolphins chose to spend most of the breaks in play promoting the fact that it is 35 years since they were the only team to go through a season unbeaten; they seem intent on honouring that achievement by going 0-16 this year.

Will there be another Wembley game next year? It is hard to tell. There are going to be 2 games outside North America next year. Buffalo have already said that they want to play one game a season in Canada, which may or may not count as one of these. Frankfurt will be claiming it is their turn after losing out to Wembley in the competiton to stage this game and there are other markets in the Far East and South America that the NFL is keen to tap. A crowd in excess of 81,000 and a fairly favourable time difference will count in London’s favour. The state of the pitch, the ignoramus who kept playing music over the top of the referee’s announcements and the fact that, despite all that money, the roof still flaming well leaks, will be votes against.

Oh, and the cheerleaders were very nice. Except the one stood in front of me, who was so skinny that you could see the bottom of her rib cage sticking out, making it seem like she had four breasts. Even in America, that’s wrong.

And in other news

Did you know it was the Superbowl this weekend? The Patriots and the Colts are in the same conference, so can never meet in the season’s most hyped and least entertaining game, but as the only two unbeaten sides in the NFL this Sunday’s match is surely a prequel for a championship decider in January. The Pats will be out to avenge last year’s defeat in that match and with both sides coming into the game off the back of crushing victories - the Colts ran riot in Charlotte to beat the Panthers 31-7, the Pats thumped the Redskins 52-7 - Sunday evening should be even better than last Sunday was;

The Rams season just keeps getting worse. Not only did they hand the Browns their first away win (27-20), but star running back Steven Jackson returned from a groin strain, only to leave the game with a back injury before halftime;

The Steelers beat the Bengals 24-13, the seventh straight time they have won in Cincinnati;

It was the battle of the back-ups in Giant’s Stadium. The Jets dropped regular starting QB Chad Pennington in favour of Kellen Clements, whilst former Bills starter JP Losman regained his place when rookie Trent Edwards went down with a wrist injury in the third quarter. Even a 13-3 win won’t have appeased Bills owner Ralph Wilson Jr if the rumours that Edwards was only playing to save him paying Losman a bonus based on playing time are correct;

Big away wins for two form teams, as the Steelers win in Houston and the Lions in Chicago;

The Falcons’ DeAngelo Hall proves that some people never learn from their mistakes. The man who currently appears in a Reebok ad boasting that he knew he would become a professional sportsman when he got his SATs scores (i.e. he’s a bit thick) was fined $100,000 back in September with half of it suspended. Now, a second outburst, this time against the team’s owners and coaching staff for releasing a player, has cost him the suspended $50,000;

Old Man Favre is at it again, this time throwing an 82 yard touchdown pass in overtime to see the Packers to a 19-13 win in Houston;

Finally, sad news that the NFL’s most inappropriately named player is out for the season. 6’3”, 330lb (that’s almost 24 stones) Rams player Ritchie Incognito injured his right knee and won’t play again until 2008.

Daniel Levy Rules! - PremCorrespondent

Sorry for the late round up this week. I attended a long planned party to report on Daniel Levy’s steady guidance of good ship Tottenham on Sunday night, and no one else turned up. Still, waste not want not. I tucked into the free beer and sausage rolls and woke up in an alley this morning.

Spurs of course lost under Clive Allen’s temporary charge, with new man Ramos copying much of the Premier league and looking down on his side from above. Meanwhile Blackburn Samba’d away from White Hart Lane with a 2-1 win and a renewed confidence that Mark Hughes would stick around until Alex Fergusson collapses on the Old Trafford touchline.

Not that Sir Alex’s heart faces much stress right now. A number of injuries may have caused concern for lesser teams early in the campaign, but the Red Devils were their normal raging storm of attacking power against sorry Boro as they won 4-1 and must now feel confident of winning yet another Premiership pot this season.

Less a raging storm and more a refreshing breeze of attacking football, Arsenal’s young side saw a near record breaking run of wins come to an end against Liverpool. Missed chances at both ends during Gerrard’s 400th appearance for the Reds should have seen a 1-1 draw finish 3-3. But both teams would have been pleased to walk away with their unbeaten league records in tact.

Among the other title hopefuls, Manchester City took an unexpected drubbing at the hands of lowly Chelsea. OK, that’s an exaggeration of both clubs’ positions. But it was fun to type.

Anyway, apparently Chelsea under Avram Grant are set to be as predictably successful as his £300million first team was under the Special one. Their 6-0 victory raised again the concern that Sven has no plan B to instigate when defending a 0-0 draw and hoping to snatch a goal or set piece on the break falls short.

Everton risk being labelled boring after their 2-0 win against Derby. Not because the game was dreary or because goals from Arteta and Yakubu were not somewhat impressive. And not because of Everton’s negative tactics. But if you don’t score four goals against County when will you score four?

Daniel de Ridder lightened up the match between soon to be bought Birmingham City and soon to be relegated Wigan Athletic. The 3-2 win ended City’s run of defeats and was largely thanks to their Dutchman. But nothing on show shook the belief that ChampCorrespondent will be reporting on the same fixture next season.

In other games of little interest, Rob Green saved a late penalty to keep Pompey v West Ham 0-0 till the final whistle, and Sunderland’s Kenwyne Jones’ fear of Roy Keane inspired another late recovery to draw 1-1 with Fulham.

Newcastle showed just how bad Martin Jol’s Spurs side were in defeat at St James’ Park last week when even a lucky equaliser couldn’t prevent eventual defeat to Reading.

And finally Bolton were mugged, stabbed, and beaten senseless by referee Martin Atkinson in Megson’s first game in charge. Atkinson created much of the game’s excitement at the Reebok by refusing the home side their stronger than normal penalty appeals and by helping Aston Villa equalise by confusing everyone and his linesman when he gave Bolton’s throw to the away side.

Predicting predictions - Kokomo

During the heady days of the summer, when England were rubbish at Rugby, we didn’t bother with one day internationals too much, but could murder the shallow one-day obsessed sub-continentals at proper Test Match Creeket, I spent an idle minute writing my predictions for the season.

As pre-season predictions are a bit passé, I kept it to myself, but when dusting my shelves this week I was alarmed to see that I have been near 100% right in my predictions so far, so thought it was only fair that I should share with the rest of you what is going to happen for the rest of the season.

August
In the BBC Studio, a joke is made about Alan Hansen’s assertion that you don’t win anything with kids. He was famously proved wrong as Schmeichal, Bruce, Pallister, Irwin, Keane and Cantona lead United to the title.

The major news of the month is that Carlos Tevez making his Manchester United debut, scoring in a routine 2-0 home win over Reading. An article in the Guardian claims that this is the best team that has ever been assembled.

Arsenal beat Man City at home, with Da Silva scoring a header. Their fans tell themselves that they wouldn’t have won this match with the overrated Henry last season.

In Liverpool, Rafa Benitez makes a substitution. He is widely criticised for his mindless tinkering.

September
Arsenal score a goal after 87 passes, and are duly declared the guardians of all that is beautiful and true about the world. Tackles on Arsenal players are subsequently banned from all football matches for the rest of the season.

Sunderland fans are stranded at Shannon airport as Air Lingus pulls its route to Heathrow. Niall Quinn walks over the Irish Sea and carries them on his shoulders over to Old Trafford, where they sea Roy Keane make Ole Gunnar Solskaer cry in the dugout, before Nani and Anderson give United a comfortable victory. Ferguson is lauded as a genius in the transfer market for yet again spotting talented youngsters that nobody has heard of.

England play. Everyone goes on holiday.

October
Billy Davies becomes the first managerial casualty of the season. Everyone briefly remembers that Derby are in the premier league. Neil Warnock is appointed manager. He says the West Ham game will be just like any other for him.

Sven Goran-Eriksson attempts to play down Thaksin Shinawatra’s human rights abuses: "weeell, I don’t think it was so bad. This is football, and he did let those boys become girls. Eeeehh, I really couldn’t tell until you got really close."

Steve Bruce goes on holiday to China. He is not seen for the rest of the season.

November
Big money looks well spent for West Ham, Man City, Spurs and Sunderland, as they occupy the coveted top four spots in the table, closely followed by Man Utd and Liverpool. UEFA announce that, in the interests of the football community and UEFA brand, they are considering awarding the Champions League spots to the teams finishing in 5th, 6th, 7th and 9th in England. Bolton, sandwiching Chelsea and Arsenal in 8th place, don’t know which way to look. Little Sam is struggling to cope, and spends the entire trip to Krakow for a UEFA cup game in the overhead baggage lockers.

December
Reading are brought by an Afghan Warlord, who made his fortune in growing and exporting opium. The FA announces that he passed their fit and proper chairman test.

Order is restored in the premiership, as Manchester United, Chelsea, Liverpool and Arsenal are tied at the top of the table. UEFA denies that it ever seriously considered awarding champions league spots to anyone but the top four. Communications manager Christophe Gaillard said: "It is not true. Our only problem is Liverpool. We hate them." The Guardian concurs.

Everton manager David Moyes has his ring stolen in a trip to West Ham, where the sequel to Green Street is being filmed.

Chelsea win the African Nations Cup, but are falling behind in the premiership by New Year. Jose Mourinho asks how he was supposed to foresee this happening.

January
In Spain, table toppers Real Madrid lose their unbeaten record, but remain 5 points clear. Bernt Schuster is sacked.

In their winter break tour of Scotland Milan play Dundee United. Cally explodes.

David Moyes has to buy a new pair of shoes, and is photographed taking regular trips to a beauty parlour in Liverpool. A journalist searches through the bins in Merseyside and finds discarded wax strips filled with ginger foot hair.

In the January transfer window, Fulham are the major movers, signing Neil Lennon, Iain Dowie, Gerry Hamilton and Callum Best. The biggest signing though, is Thierry Henry sulking back to Arsenal, for a seemingly bargain basement £20, though he is paid a reported £500k a week. He surprisingly makes his first outing for the youth team, causing Canadian Arsenal fan, Johnny come-Arseneknows to marvel at Wenger’s ability to pick up unknown gems for a pittance.

Arsenal fans and GU journalists are united in their belief that Henry is exactly what young Arsenal stars Jens Lehmann, Toure, Gilberto, Gallas and Rosicky need to lead them and inspire the team.

Rafa Benitez signs a Spanish full-back for £2m. No-one notices.

February
The title race is hotting up, and the big four remain locked together, having only dropped points against each other.

At the other end of the table, Neil Warnock is sacked, a decision explained by the Derby board as being because, ‘well, he’s just a bit of an embarrassment really.’ Nigel Clough takes over.

Everton, Newcastle, Tottenham, Blackburn, Aston Villa, Man City, Sunderland and Reading are all tied in what must be an exciting race for the UEFA cup spots. However, sky plus viewing figures are down to single figures for games not involving the big four, and FA chief executive Brian Barwick tells the press that he is considering calling it off due to lack of public interest, as they are all so much of a muchness.

David Moyes describes little Timmy Cahill as being his most precious player. Everyone thinks he is a bit creepy.

March
The Champions League restarts, but no-one really cares anymore. Michel Platini explains that everyone has played each other so much recently that it is pointless, before awarding the trophy to his mate Berlusconi.

Robbie Savage is declared public enemy number one, after he tackles Cesc Fabregas. He is sent off for this slight, and banned for the rest of the season. Mark Hughes apologises on the pitch, and orders Brad Friedel to score an own goal. Arsenal win 1-0, but have a pass completion rate of 103%, and are duly awarded another 10 goals by the FA for artistic merit. The Guardian welcomes this new rule, and subsequently goes back through the archives to discover that under this new ruling Arsenal have won every championship since they bought their place in the football league, even when George Graham was boss. The only exception is when Spurs pipped them in 1961. Martin Jol acknowledges that this proves that Spurs play exciting football. Still. Honest. A halo is fitted around the emirates to signify Arsenal’s purity.

West Ham are arrested. Just because they have so many ‘orrible players.

Everton players complain that boss David Moyes is starting to show a different, obsessive side to his personality. He also seems to have no internal monologue anymore.

Derby win all their games this month.

April
There are some showers; there are some fools.

May
The FA decide to have an end of season awards ceremony, instead of the FA cup final (which they cancelled after the big four were knocked out in the quarter finals) presented by Jonathon Ross, and with Javier Mascherano reading some poetry in the interval. Arsenal win the gold star for being pretty, Manu a prize for being exciting, while Liverpool and Chelsea are booed off the stage. These four are all awarded places in the Champions League, although Liverpool are asked to start qualifying last February.

David Moyes has not been seen for the last month, with the only sighting of him behind some rocks in New Zealand. He has taken to going around naked, and with a strange high-pitched voice. He is a shadow of his former self.

Derby win the title. Football eats itself.

Epilogue
In the summer, a major tournament is played for the first time since we bothered to look without a British Isles team in it. It is rubbish. There is no fighting; no useless looking team who manage to get through with passion and commitment; no amusing football songs; no ignorant British journalists who don’t know who Ricardo Quaresmo is; and most importantly, the sheer cynical, monolithic androgyny of it all bores the pants off everyone. The final is cancelled, and everyone decides that they like Rugby better.

Epilogue to the Epilogue

Germany win the 2011 Rugby World Cup.

NFL Week 7 - the Velvet Bear

I sparked a discussion on here a few weeks ago when I compared kicking in the NFL to that in rugby. Opinion seemed to be pretty divided as to whether it was easier to kick on your own, from anywhere on the pitch, with a minute to prepare yourself, or easier to do it NFL style – you line up in front of the posts, but one guys throws the ball back between his legs to a second guy, who stands the ball upright on the ground and holds it whilst you kick it. All within 40 seconds and without you getting the chance to do a Johnny style pose beforehand. And the posts are higher, too.

It is an argument which you can never win. The two styles are too different. The only thing you can say is that, in an indoor arena, it is probably easier to kick in the NFL. But then where does that leave someone kicking in the Millennium Stadium when the roof is closed?

What I can tell you is that, with an eerie sense of timing, the NFL kicking record fell on Sunday, as Rob Bironas of the Tennessee Titans kicked 8 field goals in their 38-36 win over the Houston Texans. The last of these came from the very last kick of the match to win it and break the record.

In truth, the Texans didn't deserve to win, having scored 29 of their points in the final quarter to put themselves back into the match, in a thrilling spell which included a 57 yard touchdown pass by quarterback Sage Rosenfels. I mention this for no reason other than to cram one more silly name into this article.

Elsewhere in the NFL:

● I feel slightly bad about something. I've rather ignored Tom Brady thus far. The problem is that, whilst Brady is a thoroughly nice guy, he plays for the Patriots, who are such an unloveable team it is not true. Frankly, you could send Brady out with a team full of fluffy bunny rabbits, new born babies and kittens and you still couldn't love the Pats. Even so, their form (as I mentioned last week) has been awesome and Brady himself couldn't be playing better. This week he threw six – yes, SIX – touchdowns as the Pats beat the Wembley-bound Dolphins 49-28;

● The Dolphins remain winless and Sunday's big game looks like being something of a walkover as the Giants go 5-2 by thrashing the 49ers. San Fran backup QB Trent Dilfer was sacked 6 times, one of which led to a fumble, a fumble recovery and a touchdown all in one;

● No apologies for making this so prominent. In a game of astonishing offensive ineptness, the Bears stunned the Eagles, their fans, me and probably themselves by going 97 yards on their final drive of the game to win 19-16. In fact, when they started the play at their own three yard line, with less than two minutes on the clock and no timeouts left, I stopped watching;

● Comeback of this year – and possibly any other – is in Oakland, where the Chiefs' Priest Holmes plays his first game since a neck injury threatened to end his career in 2005. He has little impact in a grim match which ends 12-10 to the Chiefs, but it's good to see him back;

● Definitely out for this season are Dolphins QB Trent Green, Safety Renaldo Hill and RB Ronnie Brown. The lengths some people will go to to avoid a trip to London. Renardo Foster of the Falcons joins them in the treatment room for the next few months;

● The Falcons' season keeps getting worse, as star TE Alge Crumpler misses their game against the Saints and latest QB Byron Leftwich is injured in the third quarter. Needless to say, the Saints win 22-16;

● A thriller in Cinci as the Bengals outscore the Jets 38-31, in Denver where a last second field goal gives the Broncos the win over the Steelers by 31-28, and in Washington as the Cardinals, despite dominating the game, miss a 54 yard field goal with the last kick of the game to lose 21-19;

● The Lions are this year's surprise team and they continued their good run against the Bucs. Two Jeff Garcia fumbles led to touchdowns as they go 4-2 with a 23-16 victory;

● Last week the Seahawks' Matt Hasselbeck and several teammates narrowly avoided serious injury when an overhead camera broke away from its cabling and landed on the pitch just behind them. This week they were in little danger of breaking sweat against the Rams as they won 33-6;

● The Colts continued their quiet dominance by beating the Jags 23-7 in Jacksonville, but they are far too boring to write about;

● The bush fires in California force the Steelers to move to Arizona for the forseeable future;

● Good news for Vikings fans as Tavaris Jackson breaks a finger. Oh, hold on, who does that leave you with? Kelly Holcomb and Brooks Bollinger? HAHAHAHAHAHA Good job it's not a season ending injury;

● Latest victim (if you'll forgive the expression) of the NFL clean up campaign is the Rams' Claude Terrell, who is sacked after being accused – accused, not convicted – of assaulting his wife;

● Suspended players Chris Henry and Tank Johnson are cleared to return to practise with their teams, if not to actually play;

● The NFL adds $10m to the fund to provide for retired players who fall on hard times, to equally large cheers and complaints that it is not enough;

● Michael Vick places his house in Atlanta on the market. Well, he won't be needing it for a few years. Hopefully;

● Finally, sad news as Max McGee, who scored the first ever Superbowl touchdown, dies in a fall at the age of 75. Quite what he was doing on the roof at his age is anyone's guess.

Right, I'm off to Wembley...

Mad Boks and Englishmen - premcorrespondent

While all Englishmen and women (well the ones that speak posh) were concentrating on whether a mix of public schoolboys, Rugby League converts and organo-phosphate poisoned farmhands could turn over the descendents of the Voortrekkers (and Percy Montgomery), proper football went ahead as usual... alas.

The lunchtime kick-off resounded to thousands of scousers (and some Liverpool supporters) baying for blood, but only one cry was answered in the affirmative - when Mark Clattenberg, on second thoughts, agreed with Stevie G that Tony Hibbert should get a red card and duly dismissed him. Stevie was soon hooked by Rafa who knows that it's the CL that will make his reputation, not parochial events like the.... Premier League.

While the England man cleared Tesco bags off the bench and settled down to sign photos for Clattenburg, Dirk Kuyt was showing that he could become the new Cantona and Carragher was pulling Lescott down on to his prone body like an aspirant porn star. Everton 1 Liverpool 2 and David Moyes minus 30 grand, once the FA blazers get round to a hearing. The Merseyside teams are now 11th and fourth respectively, which is where they are likely to finish. The Premier League have kindly given Clattenberg next weekend off so he can reacquaint himself with the rule book.

The six three o'clock games (a generous quota these days) saw Arsenal continue their season of wonder goals with a 2-0 win over a Bolton side bereft of the managerial influence of Sammy Lee (yes, there was no difference). Chelsea cruised to a 2-0 win at the Riverside over long term residents of "The Best League in the World" Middlesborough. Elano continued his quest to wrest the Footballer of the Year award away from little Cesc with another virtuoso display for Citeh as they ran out 1-0 winners over Mrs Doubtfire's Birmingham.

Sven's success in England and overseas gives him the kind of CV the FA will be looking for to replace Steve McClaren... or maybe not. The other three matches brought Portsmouth more points with a 0-2 win at Wigan, Fulham draw nil-nil with Derby in a game that won't have pleased Frankie Howerd lookalike Laurie Sanchez and Tugay (see above) leading his mob to victory over the Royals, as Blackburn ran out 4-2 winners over Reading.

On a channel nobody can watch except if you're at the pub, Manchester United defeated Aston Villa 1-4 without the help of Ronaldo, but with plenty of assistance from Rob "Hey, Look at Me!" Styles, who secured his usual quantum of camera-time by giving penalties and red cards to the Villa.

Roy Keane had squeezed out a very scary beard in the international break, but the face furniture (and all the talk of Black Cats - where did that come from?) didn't bring any luck, as West Ham were flattered by a 3-1 scoreline.

Champions League 2009 non-contenders Tottenham Coldspurs rounded out the weekend's fixtures with a 3-1 defeat at Big Sam's Newcastle. Martin Jol was doing his head slightly tilted back Mussolini look, but he'll be hanging from a lamp-post soon (metaphorically, I think).

And that's it, with just a Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of European matches to keep us going before the weekend's matches kick off. Enjoy Friday!

NFL Week 6 - the Velvet Bear

I was struggling for a theme for this week’s missive, but then someone (no names, no pack drill) very kindly used the phrase ‘thuggery versus skill’ elsewhere on this site and gave me a neat tie in to events on and off the field over the past week.

Those of you who have been reading since my first article will know that the NFL is trying desperately to clean up its act following a rather large number of player misdemeanours. That extends not only to acts off the field, but acts on them as well. Players are now routinely fined for going beyond the bounds of what the NFL decides is fair and reasonable. This week alone:

· Mike Vrabel was fined $5000 for the tackle which I referred to last week;

· Kyle Van Den Bosch of the Titans is $7500 lighter after a low tackle on Falcons’ QB Joey Harrington;

· Maurice Jones-Drew of the Jaguars needed a real cash machine after picking up a similar fine for a touchdown celebration where he pretended the goalposts were a cash machine – yes, in the NFL you can now be fined for over-celebrating, although Jones-Drew has been so poor this year I reckon the fine was $500 for what he did and $7000 for having the nerve to draw attention to himself after being such a useless waste of space for the first five weeks.

Basically, in the modern NFL, anything which looks a bit bad on television is going to cost you. It generally takes a week or two for the fines to filter through, but it is a safe bet that anyone who was pulled up for a horsecollar (a tackle around the neck) or facemask this week won’t be spending too much money for another seven days. Given that all of the protective equipment prevents some of the sneakier pieces of foul play you find in other games – it is hard to eye gouge through a helmet – picking up the offenders isn’t the hardest job in the world and indeed you wonder why the league didn’t get tougher before now.

On the other hand, it is all a question of proportion. Is tacking someone high, or late, really only worth as big a fine as using the goalposts as a celebration prop? Surely not. In the examples given above, either Jones-Drew was hard done by, or the other two got off very lightly.

The week’s other news
Tom Brady throws a career-best 5 touchdown passes – two of them to the littlest and least well known of their formidable receiving quartet, Wes Welker – as the Pats destroy the Cowboys 48-27. In doing so, he sets a new record as the first QB to throw three touchdowns in six consecutive matches. There is some talk among pundits that the spying affair has so galvanised this team that they will be hard to beat; in truth, they are simply enjoying having every player fit and on the top of his form. Whilst it is very hard to see anyone beating them at the moment, you get the feeling that it only takes one or two of them to have an off day and the wheels will come off in spectacular fashion;

The Chiefs beat the Bengals 27-20; Chiefs tight end Tony Gonzalez scores two of their touchdowns to break the record for the most touchdowns by a tight end in NFL history;
Vinny Testaverde (aged 753) extends his own record for the number of consecutive seasons with a touchdown pass to 21 as he leads his new team the Carolina Panthers to a 25-10 victory over the Arizona Cardinals;

Testaverde is a mere stripling compared to 59 year old Mike Flynt, who became the oldest college football player in history on Friday night;

The Rams’ dire season continues as they crash 22-3 at the Ravens;

Over in Jacksonville, the Jaguars beat the Texans 37-17. That man Jones-Drew runs in a touchdown and then bows to the crowd, who hail him for the prize idiot he clearly is;

In the battle of the Adrian Petersons, it is the Viking of that name who comes out on top, going in for three touchdowns against the Bears (and his namesake) and leading Minnesota to a surprise 34-31 victory;

A 43 yard field goal with just 11 seconds remaining gives the Buccaneers a 13-10 victory over the Titans in a game so awful the only thing you could say is that neither side deserved to win;
The Packers beat the Redskins 17-14 and it is another record for Old Man Favre. He might not want this one, though – he has now been intercepted more often than any other QB;

Anthony Hargrove of the Bills will be ordering extra toilet paper after pleading guilty to disorderly conduct, drawing a $300 dollar fine from the court and a the prospect of an uncomfortable meeting with arch-disciplinarian Roger Goodall;

Goodall is also due to hear Tank Johnson’s application to resume playing any day now and is – rumour has it – likely to say ‘yes’ for once in his life;

And continuing the Goodall theme, he has also hinted that, one day, the Superbowl may be played outside the USA – meaning London;

The Cardinal’s QB problems continue as Kurt Warner picks up an elbow injury, leaving only Tim Rattay available. They’ve signed Tim Hasselbeck as back up to him, which means they now have none of the quarterbacks they had six weeks ago. Hasselbeck is the less talented brother of the Seahawks’ Matt, which makes him about ¼ the talent of Eli Manning, or 1/8th of a full Peyton…

Finally, good news of Kevin Everett, who is now walking again with the aid of a special frame, but sad news of Cowboys legend Ron Spring, who is in a coma after a kidney transplant (donated by a former team-mate) failed.

NFL week 5 – the Velvet Bear

I hadn't intended to catch the Cowboys/Bills game this week. The team with the most points in the NFL in opposition to the side with the worst defense anywhere didn't exactly look mouthwatering, unless you are the sort of person who likes watching Bambi's mother get shot (or unless you support Leicestershire at cricket, in which case why would you want to suffer twice?).

Fortunately, a slightly complicated sequence of events, where nothing worked out quite as I intended it to, meant that I ended up seeing the game anyway. I'm really glad that I did. Forget the fact that the Cowboys won 25-24. Forget the fact that they did so with a 53 yard field goal in the final second*. Forget, even, that along the way Tony Romo, imperious this season, threw no fewer than five interceptions. To me, it was what the Bills did in the first quarter that was special.

First of all, we had two exceptional pieces of skill from Bills punter Brian Moorman. Now, punters really are the runts of any NFL team. Their sole role in the team is to come onto the pitch when their team's offense has failed to move the ball the requisite 10 yards in the first 3 downs.

They are then expected to hoof the ball as high and as far as they can, hopefully landing it somewhere inside the final 10 metres of the opposition half. That's it. Maybe they get to make the occasional tackle if their opponents catch the punt and manage to run it back far enough. Very very occasionally they get to take a long range kick at goal. It is a job which lacks glamour, thanks and – in NFL terms – money.

In this game, the Bills received the ball from the kick-off. They ground to a halt well inside their own half after 3 plays and so Moorman was sent for, with the side still 4 yards short of a first down.

The ball was snapped back. Moorman caught it. And ran and ran. For a full 10 yards. It doesn't sound much, but for someone to do something like that on the fourth play of a match takes real guts. If he hadn't made the first four yards, Moorman would have handed the Cowboys the ball deep in his own half. Because remember, those 10 yards are measured from where the ball started, not where Moorman started, which was a good 20-25 yards from where the ball was snapped to him.

The surprise of that move didn't unsettle the Cowboys too much and, although Moorman had given his side another four downs, they failed to make any real headway with the first three and so he was very quickly back on the field again. This time he did punt the ball in the normal way, this time from just inside the Dallas half (or at least the ball was just inside the Dallas half, see above).

With accuracy astonishing even at this level, Moorman landed the ball just two yards from the Dallas goal line. Which meant Dallas had to play from practically on their own line and the pressure was enough for Romo to throw his first interception of the evening – one which was run straight back at him for a touchdown to the Bills.

Even more remarkable was what happened the next time Dallas had the ball. Romo threw another interception. Moreover, their offensive team looked completely rattled by a defence reaching legendary levels of uselessness. It took a little while to work out why. To understand, you need to understand the 'line of scrimmage'.

The line of scrimmage is the point where the two teams face one another. On one side you have the offensive line and on the other the defensive. The offensive line will almost always have 5 players in it, sometimes even more. The defensive line can have anywhere between 3 and 7 players in it, depending upon what the offense does. The players crouch down like sprinters in the 'set' position, with either one or two hands on the ground.

What the Bills were doing was putting anything up to 7 players on the line, but only one of them was going into the 'set' position; the rest of them were standing like – to continue the athletics analogy – the way middle distance runners do when they start a race. Not only was this perfectly legal, it was confusing the hell out of the Cowboys, who didn't seem to have a clue what was going on. It is one of those tactics that probably isn't going to work more than once, but full credit to whoever came up with it.

In the rest of the NFL:
Two seasons ago, the Steelers and the Seahawks contested the Superbowl. Last season the Seahawks suffered badly from the strange phenomena whereby the losing Superbowl side suffers a spate of injuries which ruins their season. The Seahawks seem to have managed to get that to carry over to this season, but even that can't excuse being shut out by a Steelers side who still look pretty average;

In a sad postscript to the above, Seahawks fullback Mack Strong announced that he had a serious spinal condition and that his career was over, although thankfully his quality of life is not affected;

The Patriot's Tom Brady tied an NFL record by throwing three touchdowns for the fifth consecutive game as the Pats destroyed the Browns 34-17. The most interesting thing about this game was an after game spat between Eric Steinbach of the Browns and the Pats' Mike Vrabel over a late hit towards the end of the game. Steinbach called Vrabel 'classless' which, frankly, is like Victoria Beckham calling another Spice Girl 'talentless'. NFL players are picked for many things, but being classy isn't one of them;

The Cardinals eked out a win over St Louis by 34-31, but in doing so lost QB Matt Leinhart for the season with a broken collarbone;

More heartache for Miami as the Dolphins slump to 0-5 by virtue of a 22-18 loss to the Texans. More importantly, they also lost QB Trent Green with grade 3 concussion – the most severe – when he tried to make a block on Houston tackle Travis Johnson. He will miss at least one game and probably more;

In fact, injuries are really beginning to take their toll in the NFL this season. The determining factor seems to be which team manages to cope best without a large number of stars. High up this list will be the Colts, who shook off losing 5 starters to beat Tampa Bay 33-14. The Bucs in turn will lose RB Michael Pittman for at least 6 weeks with an ankle injury;

Over in Carolina, QB Jake Delhomme is out for the season with an elbow injury, but they just manage to edge out the Saints 16-13;

Painfully, the Broncos lose starting center Tom Naylen with a torn bicep. Even more painfully, they put up their worst performance for almost 30 years in losing 34-3 at home to the Steelers, who barely even bother to break sweat in the final quarter;

In Wisconsin, a genuine “Star me, how did that happen?” moment as the Bears, led by Brian Griese, beat the Packers 27-20 to claim bragging rights in one of the NFL's oldest rivalries;
Things can't even go right for the Vikings on a week off, as Tavaris Jackson announces that he will be fit for this weekend's game. I thought they just shot lame donkeys?

*The equivalent of Jonny Wilkinson kicking a penalty from inside his own half to beat the French with the last kick of the match this Saturday. Except I won't complain if he does.

Tradition is dead in the fixture list – Premcorrespondent

In last night’s football action some former Chinese parents complained at length about their missing children. That’s right, the money men mucked about with the fixture list again, cancelled the traditional Monday night game, and put me right off my chow mein with the pointless documentary I couldn’t turn over after breaking my remote in anger.

Fortunately that was the low point of an otherwise good weekend for football purists.

Early on Saturday afternoon Manchester United displayed the sort of master class in football that people predicted for this season what with their £50million enhanced squad. And frankly, how Rooney, Ronaldo, and Tevez only scored four goals against Wigan is beyond my imagination.

Having taken top spot, United lost it again early on Sunday afternoon when Arsenal displayed the sort of master class no one predicted from their Henry depleted squad this season, couple with worrying defencive frailties.

The Gunners took an easy two goal lead at home to Sunderland, and then decided to add some spice by letting the away team draw level later in the game. That set the scene for an 80th minute corker of a winner that ensured Wenger need not be sacked for a dull brand of victorious football.

Talking of Chelsea, they played out a 1-0 win against Bolton in which much of the little excitement caused came from Bolton’s attacking efforts that deserved to earn at least a point. Roman has responded by approaching Ten Cate as the next man to make Chelsea exciting.

One team not lacking excitement on the pitch is Spurs who snatched defeat, or a draw at any rate, from the hands of glorious and well deserved victory at Anfield.

The Lilywhites came from behind to lead 2-1 thanks to Robbie Keane’s acrobatic finishing. But alas Paul Robinson made another effort to avoid being called into Steve McLaren’s England squad. Having gifted Liverpool the lead early on, he gifted them further chances that the Reds squandered, only to be blameless for the 93rd minute equalizer.

Fortunately for Spurs, Fulham lost to Portsmouth thanks to two goals just three minutes apart from Benjani and Hreidarsson. That left Fulham in the bottom three instead of their London rivals, although had Pompey keeper David James not been on top form Fulham could now be further up the table, instead of James being further up the England pecking order.

Michael Owen returned from injury yet again this weekend, and ensured Steve McLaren need not think too much about his striker options this week. In a fifteen minute cameo the England man scored a late winner against Everton. Though McLaren’s mental clogs should be turning after the combination of Baines and Johnson for one of Everton’s two goals.

In other games no one much cares about, Bentley played a scoring part in Blackburn’s win over Birmingham, Derby recorded an relative victory by losing just 1-0 against Reading, and West Ham lost by the same score to Aston Villa in the only 3pm Saturday kick off of the weekend.

Parkour - file

Taking the Metro from Forum Les Halles to La Défense in the early 90’s was like watching a moving montage of urban culture. Around the Centre Pompidou and all over the mazey Les Halles were outbreaks of skateboarding jinx and breakdancing cliques, youth in bandana’s and baggy BDU’s pushing the limits of their street style for themselves and for their scally peers.

The street battles for proto-hoodie kudos to organic urban rhythms had natural pauses for surliness and shiftiness in the face of anyone, especially the stocky security guards and traditionally heavy-handed and violent policiere with their sticks and dogs. At this time even the Champs D’Elysee was patrolled by CRS with Uzis.

Slipping back down underground to the relative calm of the Metro, heading North West and out to les banlieues, La Défense sits at the end of the line like a huge, stamped full stop. The end of civilized language, beyond this point the local patois takes hip buzz words from the ghettoes of the world and then speaks them backwards with a French accent. It’s a street lingo called Verlan and the built-in ‘fuck-you’ grittiness echoes around the canyons of the high-rise estates that seem to extend for infinity out from the besieged romantic heart of Paris.

Being born is like coming out of the station at La Défense; the inexorable upward slide to a gash of bright light, the open esplanade that greets you and the immense full-stop that blocks your way.

I remember being struck by the scale of the shining arch up close, feeling very small by comparison. Looking around I could see the tips of the disrepaired housing blocks that form the horizon there, they too seemed struck by the scale of the thing, as if they too felt very small by comparison. What of their, even smaller, inhabitants; the immigrants, the poor, the disenfranchised and the disenchanted, living in the shadow of such a state-sponsored gleaming colossal end?

Over on the banked edges of the space around the Metro exit and La Défense itself there were some doods flying around the street furniture on their boards, or so I thought. As I approached for a nosey I realized they didn’t have any boards…

A group of about 12 ragged guys, looking like break dancers on dress-down Friday, were sprinting up a wall and somersaulting over backwards, some were cart wheeling down the concrete slopes, I saw one guy hop up a lamppost and on to a wall, starjumping off it and landing in a roll.

I was really impressed at the time thinking that the wonderful French art of subverting anything and baptizing it with Style and Art had come to gymnastic tumbling. It seemed to echo the completely sensational departure of Cirque du Soleil and the reinvention of the circus for a modern world or Savate, the peculiarly French interpretation of kick-boxing.

What I saw was ghetto ballet, set firmly in and on the concrete and steel environment that had previously only conspired in the crushing socialization of those unable to escape. Like Verlan had broken out of the languages of les banlieues, Parkour had emerged from the very walls of this economic prison.

That was years ago and while I’d always intended to find out more about what I’d seen, I didn’t. Only a chance clip of Luc Besson’s astonishing movie Yamakusi brought it back to mind, oh, I thought, this has really caught on.

I didn’t find out its name until last week; Parkour.

Back in the day (1902) there was a guy, un mec (fr.) un keum (Verlan), called Georges Hébert, a place; St. Pierre in Martinique, and a volcano; big, fiery, explosive. Hébert saved the day (and 700 people) and went on to form an exercise program that developed specifically useful skills for situations just like that.

Méthode Naturelle became the standard torture for French soldiers and sailors as well as those in the emergency services. With a ‘learn today, use today’ approach everyone had to go through the hells they would likely face, in the places they would likely face them. Later in Vietnam, for example, the squaddies would be forced to run, jump, climb and verily swing through the jungles at break-neck speed in readiness for active service.

Then David Belle got a hold of the cat by the tail and brought it scratching and squealing into the ghetto. Inspired by his father’s heroics as a military firefighter, Belle, who had always been a serious climber, martial artist and gymnast, was well equipped to carry resistant moggies and acclimatize them.

No vines or branches or soft muddy landings in the hood. Belle would set a route from one apartment block to another and then he’d get there as quick as possible, by whatever means. Skipping up sheer walls on to mezzanine floors, scaling balconies and drainpipes, running up the outside of stair wells and flying from one roof top to the next.

The cat brought superpowers to the youth. The practicality of these skills was immediately grokked by every down-with-it and dodgy street rat punker gangsta who might, one day, have occasion to vanish sharpish.

Like Hébert had done, Belle ended up formalizing his practice. What had been called Parcours du Combatant in Vietnam was dubbed Parkours (wiv a K) by the new kids on the block (literally – On the block) and eventually PK by the buzzers. Belle formed Yamakasi the first PK gang and they danced all over Paris, then London and the World.

As PK got bigger and the movies came and the stunt jobs, it started to look more like PR. Sébastien Foucan, an original member of the Yamakasi tribe, ended up bugging out and going his own way, quickly, into Free Running which is PK with clean, combed hair, slicked back and parted down the middle. Parkours split into two; the gritty utility and the dance for the masses who like all the frilly bits and forward rolls and wouldn’t dream of running from the police.

It’s easy to tell when it’s going down the pan. In the Guardian last week there was a video report which made me realize just how far PK has come from its humble beginnings. Watching a middle-aged, middle class man in a soft pink Lacoste shirt boasting of his adventures in penis enlargement and jumping off a 2 foot high vault on to a soft springy mattress in a tidy gymnasium, shouting “Oo” in excitement, I despaired.

In a globalized world that shuffles culture like playing cards, that saw French kids annex the skateboard and the hip-hop just like the Italians or the English did, it’s still a little sad to watch PK cleaned up for the petit-bourgeoisie.

I wasn’t in Harlem to watch the WASPS try to steal Jazz after its renaissance or at the Armory Show where the US Govt. claimed modern art as its own and I didn’t personally witness the Pans People doing Punk but it doesn’t matter. The gentrification of truly subversive social movements can surely only end in their eventual sanitization and conformity, like crack cocaine cut with baby powder. Not a crack fan but I fear for the future of PK.

Governments don’t want to own this one though; more like disown it, but that it’s now being practiced by the fashion conscious of Kensington and Hampstead in evening classes is an ugly symptom of its social evolution.

The truth is that PK is dangerous, anti-establishment to its very core attacking even the inalienable traditional rights of property and enclosure. Super human powers for the sub-human classes, no wonder it’s being subverted itself. It gives escape routes for hoodie vandals from the not-quite-long-enough arm-of-the-law.

I’ll not support the Egits or the kids-wi-guns but PK does offer a glimmer of equilibrium in a black unbalanced world of terror-reaction and increased powers of search and arrest, all the craze among the big boys these days. Also, a bit like the martial arts and David Belle himself, those that can give what it takes to do it well are most unlikely those who will turn to the dark side, that said, watch the videos up at Pscenes, there can be no better training for the wannabe urban warrior.

NFL week 4 - The Velvet Bear

Well, folks, the big news in the NFL this week was that there wasn't any big news in the NFL this week. Nothing. Brett Favre finally threw his 421st career touchdown, to break the all-time record of the great Dan Marino. Even this caused only a ripple upon the surface of an otherwise calm week (though I did find myself wondering (a) just how long they had toted around the recorded tribute from Marino before the record fell and (b) why the Old Man's surname is pronounced 'Farv' and not 'Fav-ray'?). This being the case, I thought I would use this space to answer some of the questions I have been asked since I started writing here.

First of all, the Belichick affair. Yes, I know it sounds daft, but you can use TV pictures to analyse your opponents, just not covert footage you have taken yourself. I guess it is all down to some ill-defined code of fair play. Also the fact that the players know they are being filmed by TV and, as i have mentioned before, guard against it. That is not to say that some have not been caught out. There is a famous story from basketball where, with less than 10 seconds of an important game remaining, the coach of the losing team called a time out. At that time, TV cameras were allowed to film inside the huddle that basketball players go into during a time out. The other team simply sent a member of staff down to the changing rooms, where the game was being shown. He ran back with details of what the opposition were planning and the game was won.

Next, the Minnesota Vikings. I'm sorry to say that my view on them hasn't changed much since I wrote the preview. They are currently 1-3 for the season, having been on the receiving end of Favre's record pass at the weekend. They have two injury prone QBs and don't seem to be able to decide which is the lesser risk. Frankly, I can't blame them. If I had to choose which was the lesser of the two evils that are Tavaris Jackson and Kelly Holcomb, I'd be putting my head in the oven. Their one victory came over the Falcons and their next best chance of not losing a game is actually this weekend - but only because they have a bye. They then have to play the Bears - who at least do know who their QB will be, after Brian Griese was confirmed as #1 this week - followed by the Cowboys, Eagles, Chargers and Packers again. This means that by the time they get a match I would expect them to win - the Raiders in Week 11 - they could easily be 1-8 and looking at their worst season ever.

Vick's drug test failure proves nothing other than that the guy is too stupid to even stick to his own bail conditions. Even Pete Doherty is - currently - managing to do that. I don't actually wish Vick ill and so long as he receives a fair punishment for what he has done I'll be happy. But talk about making life hard for yourself!

'Paper Lion' is a good book, although 'Friday Night Lights' is regarded as the definitive 'year with a team' book - probably because most Americans feel a closer affinity with their college and high school sides than with the pro sides. Another great book is 'The Blind Side' by Michael Lewis, which is a truly heartwarming story and will teach you some things about the game along the way - like why a left tackle is the second highest paid player on a team.

Heritage uniforms: For some reason, whenever a side reaches a significant anniversary, NFL tradition decrees that, for that week, they play in a uniform which is a replica of that which they played their first game in. This season, both the Eagles and the Redskins were 75 years old. The interesting facts to come out of this were that the latter only developed their slightly controversial Red Indian logo sometime later - their original one was an R with tailfeathers - and that whoever designed the original Eagles outfit had no dress sense whatsoever. They looked like page boys in helmets

Meanwhile, back in the modern day NFL:


- 'Cadillac' Williams becomes the latest exotically named star to be ruled out for the season with a cruciate ligament injury;

- Revenge is sweet for Daunte Culpepper as he leads the Raiders to a 35-17 win over the Dolphins team which released him at the start of September, scoring three of the touchdowns himself;

- Pre-season favourites the Chargers lose their third straight game, going down 30-16 to the Chiefs;

- At the other extreme, the Steelers lose their first game as the Cardinals defense puts up a massive performance to bring off a 21-14 win;

- Tony Romo throws four touchdowns as the Cowboys flatten the Rams 35-7. In one amazing play, Romo had to run back 33 yards to recover a misplaced snap which had flown over his head, then ran for 37 yards, leaving a net gain of 4 yards - and pretty much summing up the Rams' afternoon into the bargain;

- The 49ers will be without QB Alex Smith for one game with a damaged shoulder on his throwing arm. As they went down 23-3 at home to the Seahawks and went back to 2-2 it doesn't bode well for this weekend;

- A less happy QB was the Eagles' Donovan McNabb, who managed to get himself sacked a record-equalling 12 times in a 16-3 defeat to the Giants;

- Changing QB doesn't help the Bears. Not only do they lose 37-27 to the Lions, the lack of Rex and the Giants' victory means I don't have anything to laugh at. Couldn't Lovie Smith tell from the names that Grossman and Griese would be the worst double act ever?

- That's all for this week. Thanks for reading. Keep the questions coming and I'll be back next week to talk about padding, or positions, or something. VB

Maestro, please - premcorrespondent

These men stands at the centre of it all, controlling tempo, angles, possession, goals, assists. These men hold the crowd in their thrall - at their whim tattooed dockers weep. Brady, Dagliesh, Haynes, Cantona.

And this week they came again: Arteta, Elano, Fabregas.

Each at the heart of their team's play. Untouchable. The others seem to tip their game to them. The opposition relied upon to do their bidding as reliably as the ball.

Arsenal saw off West Ham thanks in large part to their pint-sized boyband-lookalike/best-player-in-the-world Cesc Fabregas and a misplaced linesman's flag. In the 60s George best boozed, looked like a Beatle and ruled the world as a teen genius. Fabregas looks like a clean-cut member of one of the androgynous anodyne all-boy acts that seem to clog up the hit parade in this post-Blair Britain. But he plays like an angel.

Over in Manchester Elano proved that Sven's eye for talent is of more value than a Thai chequebook. Elano is currently displaying something that Chelsea, Manchester United, and Liverpool lack. Someone to play the ball to and through who has class. City, inspired by this Brazilian from Donetsk, took Big Sam's Newcastle apart 3-1.

Arteta comes from Spain via Glasgow and doesn't look like a boyband member, but that mattered little as he ran the show and Everton lived up to one hack's pre-season hopes in a 2-0 suffocation of Middlesbrough. And McFadden played quite well and looks like he's in Travis, so that's fine.

As well as the return of the playmaker, this week has also harked back to the golden days of Stoke City defeating West Brom 10-3 with Sir Stan running the wing. Yes, in a comedy performance straight out of the 50s golden age, or the MLS, Portsmouth beat Reading 7-4. As I said to the man at the turnstile - if I'd wanted a cricket score I would have watched Fiji play rugby.

Of course, if we wander down the Kings Road we find the home of Haynes, Marsh, Best, and latterly Malbranque and Davis at Craven Cottage. Next to Fulham is 60s glamour side Chelsea. Zola, Gullit, Wilkins, Osgood, Vialli. Unfortunately all these players have now left. About the best thing in a turgid 0-0 draw was "not good enough for the Championship" Diomansy Kamara. Chelsea slip to 8th in the table.

Derby and Bolton joined in with Fulham in proving that not every team in white plays like Real Madrid. In fact, a white shirt seems to be more of a French flag than a symbol of attacking flowing football. Derby and Bolton drew 1-1 with each other. They continue to prop up the table, the less said about Leeds the better.

Spurs - the remaining achromatic outfit - were at home for their 125th anniversary. They managed to blow a 1-0 lead to draw 4-all and complete a whitewash of the relegation places. If they had a goalkeeper they might have scraped to the 4-0 they deserved, but panicking at their lead Leeds reject Paul Robinson (who also plays with the white shirts of England) handed Villa four straight goals to make sure Spurs didn't get ahead of themselves.

Gianni Brera wept.

In other news Mark Hughes' Blackburn beat Roy Keane's Sunderland to cement his position as the top manager managed by Ferguson in a previous life. But then competing with two newly promoted sides makes this job somewhat easier.

Alex Ferguson's Manchester United and Rafa's Liverpool both eked out 1-0 wins against no-hopers Birmingham and Wigan respectively. They are now in second and fourth, split by Sven's City.

NFL Roundup - the Velvet Bear

For the benefit of those of you who hadn't realised, these little pieces are all about the professional side of American Football. What you might not realise, though, is that there are two other levels to the game - High School and College. These are exactly as they say they are. High School games are played by those who have not left school yet and are hugely well supported. Some of you may have seen the television series Friday Night Lights. This was originally based on a famous book written about high school football in the late 1980s. Famous and controversial, as it exposed the pressure that these young athletes were placed under, the pressures imposed upon them and the crazy education system which contrives to keep the academically inept in school because they are good sportsmen.

You will gather that high school games are mostly played on a Friday night, which means that Saturday is the day for college - effectively university - games. The goal of every high school player is to win a scholarship to college, which then gives them a shot at the big time of NFL football. It is the parallel of the apprenticeship system in soccer, only with more studying and less boot cleaning; indeed, some colleges have sports facilities which put even those of Premiership soccer clubs to shame. Needless to say, the attrition rate is high. Only a tiny proportion of those who win college scholarships will reach the NFL and only a fraction of those will be successful there. To do this, many will have to change position - for example, Antwan Randle El was a star college quarterback who became a moderately successful wide receiver in the NFL. He won a Superbowl with the Steelers, who would occasionally put his old skills to use by having him throw a pass instead of the quarterback (trick plays like this are known as 'gadget plays', for reasons I've never been able to find out, let alone explain).

Why am I telling you this? Because of something which happened in a college game last weekend. Texas Tech's QB Graham Harrell threw for 646 yards in a game against Oklahoma State and still lost. Imagine how that must feel. You throw the ball for almost SIX AND A HALF TIMES the length of the field and still end up on the losing side. And remember that in calculating these yards, they only count if someone catches the ball after you've thrown it. The game finished 49-45 to Oklahoma, so it is not as if the passes he threw were ineffective, or the product of bad choices. Indeed, the game ended dramatically when the Oklahoma tight end (you know how I love those guys) Brandon Pettigrew ran more than half of the length of the pitch for a touchdown.

Only three people have thrown further than Harrell during a college game. Oddly enough, the man he passed to take that fourth place was Cody Hodges, who also played for Texas Tech. The fact that Hodges set his mark in 2005, though, might indicate that other teams have now sussed out Oklahoma's tactics.

And if all this wasn't enough to depress Harrell, of the top five guys in this list, only one, David Klingler, made it to the NFL - and he was a huge disappointment there. It's tough at the not-quite-top.

Meanwhile, in the NFL itself:

● The Giants come back from 17-3 down at half time to beat the Redskins 24-17 with their defense holding out for four plays on their own one yard line to seal the win;

● Nate Burleson catches a touchdown pass with a minute to go to enable the Seahawks to edge out the Bengals 24-21;

● Old Man Favre levels Dan Marino's record of 420 career TDs and couldn't care less: “I'm so glad we one I couldn't care less about the record”, he paraphrased;

● Atlanta lost again, but Joey Harrington had his best day since taking over from Michael Vick and all was going well until Carolina lost starting QB Jake Delhomme. Replacement David Carr made a pitch for the starting role by leading the touchdown drive which put the Panthers ahead. The killer, though, was Falcons' cornerback DeAngelo Hall losing his cool at Panthers WR Steve Smith. First he picked up a penalty for shoving Smith, then added another for continuing to abuse him. This not only lead to the touchdown from which Carolina levelled the scores, it cost him a $100,000 fine and suspension from at least the first quarter of the Falcons' next game. And you thought Chelsea were in trouble;

● My favourite whipping boy finally got his comeuppance this week. A loss to the Cowboys lead in turn to Bears coach Lovie Smith losing his restraint and Rex Grossman losing his starting berth to veteran Brian Griese. Yes, that's pronounced 'greasy'. And no, it doesn't mean that he takes Rex's place on my laugh-list. Where's Eli Manning?

● As if trying to prove my 'this is a pretty safe sport' riff of a fortnight agon, Texan's defensive end Cedric Killings broke his neck on Sunday. He's making even swifter progress than Kevin Everett - who is still doing very well - but may not play again. We wish both of them well;

● A bad week for star names. Shaun Alexander, JP Losman, Heinz Ward, Tommie Harris and Steven Jackson will all miss games with injuries, whilst Deuce Mcallister's season is over after a torn cruciate ligament;

● The Saints' nightmare continues as they lose to the Titans;

● Marc Bulger will play on with two broken ribs. Well, at least until the first time someone tackles him;

● Patriots' Vince Wilfork is fined $12,500 for the low tackle which injured Losman. Video evidence indicates that it may have been an accident, but the Pats aren't exactly flavour of the month and it is hard not to suspect that Wilfork is paying for the sins of others;

● Samari Rolle of the Ravens will miss another week after suffering an adverse reaction to medication. Which just goes to show that all the medical facilities in the world won't help if your body won't play;

● Finally, it is nice to hear that the life of Michael Vick is getting worse. Not only is he now likely to be indicted in further dogfighting charges which might lead him to 40 minutes in the clink, he also tested positive for marijuana in September, in violation of his bail. Idiot - but a nice way for the rest of us to end the week.

You could take someone’s eye out with that! – Mimitig

When I was at school, unless the weather was positively arctic (which didn’t happen that often in Oxford), our morning and lunch breaks were spent outdoors playing the same sort of games that had entertained our parents and grandparents. There was precious little in the way of regulation – we were mostly just left to get on with it, and the heavy hand of Government had yet to step in and ban such competitive fun as conkers.

There were running around games – tig and such. Sitting down games – marbles. And jumping and skipping games. Now I hadn’t thought about any of these for years until I was chatting away with a friend, here in the north-east of Scotland about how we used to pass the time in the playground.

There we were, we’d talked about the chasing games – we called it Touch-tig down south, up here it was “Join the captain or walk the plank”, but it was the same game.

Then we talked about various crazes that we’d both known: clackers was one (those two balls on strings that you had to make hit each other in a violent way), and the ankle hoop game – a round circle of brightly coloured plastic (mine was yellow) went round your foot. Attached to it by a piece of plastic string was a bell-shaped item and the idea was that you rotated the ring and jumped over the string until you finally got your other foot well and truly hit by the bell. Not particularly skilful though a certain amount of co-ordination was required, but good exercise.

Suddenly, at the same time, we both went: “Remember what we used to do with knicker elastic?”

Now some might see that as a call for memories of a furtive and fumbling nature, but my friend and I were thinking of exactly the same playground game. Our minds froze, then out of nowhere the term “French Skipping” popped into my head. Before any of you leap to conclusions, this is the official name of the activity and is not scurrilous or suggestive in any way, though I don’t know why it would have been called “French”.

All you needed were three players and the requisite length of knicker elastic tied in a loop. Two girls (and as I went to a girls’ school, it was always girls, though I’d love to know if boys played this too – I doubt it somewhat) stood a few yards apart with the elastic hoop encircling both pairs of ankles. The third girl was the jumper – her task was to perform various moves and cause the elastic to become crossed up in more and more complicated ways. When all jumps were completed the girls at each end would move the “hoop” up. The jumper would then be challenged with completing the moves at “kneesies, thighsies and waisties”. Should she be up to these supreme endeavours, she would then face performing the jumps at “chesties”. Seldom could this be achieved and so after a failure at any level, another girl would get a go.

Aah memories, memories.

I wonder how many of the games we used to play are still current? Almost without exception, an over-active imagination could imbue our pastimes with an element of risk or danger – hence “stop doing [whatever] you could take someone’s eye out with that” was the warning cry that over-anxious teachers and parents would emit. But no-one ever banned our fun and I’ve never come across anyone who had an eye taken out by a playground game.

The closest I’ve heard is from my friend whose dad was playing on the beach one day as a young loon, with all his friends, and they found an unexploded World War II mine. It didn’t stay unexploded for long, and one poor chap, now an old man, carries a deep scar close to his eye from a bit of the shrapnel. But it didn’t happen at school!

It’s Derby ’73 all over again - premcorrespondent

They say the hangovers get longer the older you get, which means a certain knight will still be feeling the effects of the special bottle of wine he set aside in memory of his grey-coated nemesis.

Ah,that famous Matalan coat, those twinkling eyes, I almost wanted United to win. Almost.

But another thing that gets worse as you get older is hatred. For several decades now I have felt a rising enmity to the ruddy-faced Govan escapee. But it’s hard to drag your own blood-shot eyes from him as he rants, raves, and blusters because one day, one game, a capillary in his face IS going to pop. You mark my words – I’ve seen it happen in the press box and it’s not pretty.

And we can all hope that when that fateful day occurs the man splattered will be Young Arsene.

And his teeny-bopper move to ditch the classes will come back to haunt him then, oh yes, no matter how prettily his pre-pubescent players pass. And my they looked impressive, seeing young Cesc run the show like a seasoned pro was something to behold. Derby, meanwhile, did an impression of Serbia against Argentina, and I can’t shake the feeling Arsenal might well play their part in the extended metaphor later on.

Big Martin and Little Sam played out a relegation six-pointer over in Burnden Park with neither side showing evidence of the bottle required to stay in the first division.

Newcastle brushed off last week’s defeat to Serbia with Big Sam’s faith in pies and Croatians and Croatians that like pies being paid off. The toon now sit one place above Chelsea with a game in hand.

Speaking of clubs ahead of Grant’s grafters, Sven’s City did something his England side never tried. A thrilling 3-3 draw, with four goals in the second half. Fulham – the other half of the draw - sit in 17th, two points ahead of Serbia and Bolton, and one ahead of the Lilywhites. So not a huge departure from the days of drawing with Macedonia then Svennis. Expect City to qualify for the finals then go out on pens in the quarters.

Rounding up the makeweights, Villa climbed to a shock 8th place with a win at home. But then they had already beaten the blues 2-0 at home once this season. The groan in the press box when Agbonlahor scored was considerable.

And Liverpool followed this up by drawing at home to the blues in a game they should have won.

Blackburn are, along with Spurs and Everton, currently busy highlighting exactly how little the hacks know about football with a 1-0 surrender to Portsmouth. That said a win would see them (as well as West Ham and Villa) climb above Roman’s new-look team and potentially into fourth. Kanu, 93, and his size 11s are proving there is life in the old dog yet – although there is no danger of him becoming big-headed about it.

Sunderland earned a point at Boro in front of three Teesdiers, a parrot, the WAGs and 28,000 travelling Wearsiders. Reading beat Wigan, in a game so irrelevant it made Bob cry and me hide in my allotment mooing like cow for 45 minutes.
I think the farmer’s coming back now so I’m off for another week – toodle pip.

The Second Meaning of Sport - Greengrass

Studying at the London School of Economics in the mid-1960’s was a fantastic experience for a simple lad from a Lancashire mill town.

This was Swinging London, and for me it really swung. I realised that southern ale was not, as I had been taught, ”witches’ piss” - Young’s was a grand brewery!

Carnaby Street, blues groups by the score, folk clubs every night of the week, Bert Jansch on tap, all-night poker schools and an unlimited supply of Southern Crumpet. Since I had a Beatles haircut and a northern accent, they all thought I had grown up with the Fab Four - and who was I to spoil their fun?

There was, admittedly, that regrettable Jagger business. That poor bloke, after two years of hard studying at the L.S.E., apparently got wind of the fact that I was on my way there, realised that there wasn’t room for both of us, pouted, and did the decent thing. Last I heard of him, he was singing with some half-arsed band out Kingston way - not Kingston, Jamaica, but Kingston upon Thames.

There was a lass from the Wirral at the L.S.E. The Wirral is just a ferry cross the Mersey from Liverpool. Wirral people like to believe they talk posh, but they talk Scouse - well, a sort of veggie Scouse. She was what today’s Swedes might term a ”puma”: heads turned in the library when she went to look for a book; she must have caused any number of stiff necks.

Miss Wirral had a boyfriend back home, and I had a girlfriend back home. We really enjoyed having a coffee, ”studying” together, agreeing that Herman’s Hermits were crap, humming ”Wild Thing” and taking turns to sigh about our long-distance relationships.

After a while, we stopped sighing about our long-distance relationships and went for a short-distance relationship: we were, after all, at a school of economics, and saving on travel made sense.

She stayed with her aunt in Ealing, which in my mind’s eye was the stop before Plymouth. I went out there once, to watch The Who with her, and noted that the ads for rooms to rent stated ”No Irish”. Well, you can’t expect Ealing landladies to speak the Erse, now can you?

I stayed in Brixton, which appeared to be a suburb of Kingston - not Kingston upon Thames, but Kingston, Jamaica. Coming home half-cut in the early hours of Sunday morning and hearing the ska pouring out of all-night parties was one of the joys of living there.

I was sharing a room in a Brixton student flat, which meant that my meetings with Miss Wirral involved me bribing my room-mate, Paul, to go out and get drunk every time we needed a bit of peace and quiet. We just couldn’t properly appreciate Buddy Guy singing ”First Time I Met the Blues” on my reel-to-reel Grundig with Paul in the room.

After a few months of that, I got a room near Euston station - I couldn’t stand the thought of my love of music turning that poor lad into an alcoholic.

Come the Christmas break, it was time to nip over to the Wirral and meet her parents. I sung ”I Hear You Knockin’” to my knees and sunk into their smug suburban sofa, ready for the trial to begin. But it wasn’t all bad - the next day, they went to work and we didn’t, which of course gave us loads of time to visit the library in Liverpool and the jam butty mines of Knotty Ash.

Then came THE BIG ONE: Liverpool v. Manchester United at Anfield. Liverpool was her team, Manchester United mine. We rolled up to the ground at the last minute and headed for the cheapest entrance in sight. It turned out to be the Kop, and it was packed.

Since I was shouting things like ”Keep on runnin’!” every time a Red Devil looked like breaking clear, the Liverpool fans quickly sussed out the fact
that I supported United.

After about 40 minutes of heart-warming homely abuse I noticed that people who had passed out were being passed over the crowd and onto the pitch, just behind the goal. I whispered to Miss Wirral, ”We gotta get outa this place. Pretend to faint!”

She suddenly said, ”Oooh!” and collapsed into my arms. She was passed over the heads of the crowd, and I swam after her. When we arrived on the pitch, she was given a whiff of smelling salts to ”bring her round”. The man from the St. John’s Ambulance Brigade then asked me if I was OK, and I told him I was fine. He said that I might need a drop of brandy ”to be on the safe side”, and I understood him to be a very wise man, so I took a swig.

As we were led away to the halfway line, she mumbled that she’d never forgive me the fact that she got those awful smelling salts for her brilliant acting - and I got a shot of brandy.

We arrived just in time to see the players come out of the tunnel for the second half - you could almost touch them! We spent the second half in seats, and later heard that Miss Wirral and I had appeared on the telly as we walked along the touchline.

She later got back with her Wirral boyfriend, and I continued my valiant quest for the Meaning of Sport.