There was some commotion over the past couple of days about the squad put out by Wolves manager Mick McCarthy to face Manchester United in the midweek Premier League game. Deeming next Saturday’s game against Burnley more important than the away game at Old Trafford, McCarthy chose make ten changes to the team used in the last game and field a side that looked like a reserves one. Outrage! The Premier League wants to speak to Mick about this and Arsène Wenger is fuming.
It’s all a bit daft. Wolves are not the first club to do this. In fact, all the big clubs have done it, both in the Premier League and the Champions League group phase. Not that long ago, Manchester Utd even pulled out of the FA Cup altogether, to play in the World Club Championship. It would be incredibly unjust of the football authorities to issue any punishment at all in this particular instance. That would simply prove what some are already saying about the big clubs: that there is one rule for them and another for the rest.
I can, of course, see the point of the travelling Wolves fans; they have paid for a (probably expensive) ticket, travelled to Manchester and dedicated their evening to watching their team take on one of their biggest opponents of the season. Big day. Then they get to watch a reserves team roll over and play dead while Man Utd stroll to an easy 3-0 win. I can perfectly imagine being incredibly cheesed off if Forest pulled a stunt like that. McCarthy has put himself in a difficult position as well. Wolves are now under immense pressure to win the game against Burnley. If they don’t, the manager will have thrown two games and six points away. In case Wolves are relegated at the end of the season, this may be looked as a decisive moment. Then again, if they stay up, McCarthy may be called a genius for thinking this up.
I can also see the point of those who say that this sort of thing kills any real competition, that Man Utd now play 37 games rather than 38. But then some perspective should be applied. Even with the injuries in the United camp, what are the odds that Wolves were going to beat them at Old Trafford? How many teams go there and come away with anything?
I cannot, however, agree with Arsène Wenger’s comments. I have a lot of respect for the man. Apart from King Billy, he is top of the list for me at the moment. What he does at Arsenal is impressive. But for him to have a go at Mick McCarthy is hypocrisy. Only three days earlier, Arsenal did exactly what Wolves did at Man Utd. Silvestre and Walcott were the only players in the squad for that game with any first team regular credentials. Predictably, Olympiacos won 1-0. This made the other game in the group irrelevant. With an Arsenal win, Standard de Liège from Belgium could still have progressed if they beat their Dutch opponents AZ. They were playing well but you could actually see in this game when Olympiakos scored. Thanks, Arsene. Thanks very much. This could have been really good for Belgian football. But still, fair enough, Arsenal have a right to do this. But they should also have the balls to accept the same tactics when they’re on the receiving end of them. Very disappointing from such a great man…
Be good
Red Devil
(Written 17/12/09, forgot to publish. Meanwhile Wolves did comfortably win their game against Burnley, thus lifting themselves out of the drop zone. Well done Mick McCarthy, then, for showing the "big four" that two can play that game.)
Tuesday 22 December 2009
Monday 14 December 2009
Sir Paul and King Billy
I went to see Paul McCartney in Holland last week. A mind-blowing concert. I saw a fantastic musician, singer and songwriter. I saw know-how, to use a bit of horrible business terminology. I saw great passion still to play those old songs. They sounded fresh, almost new, even if we knew them well enough to sing along to nearly every word, all 30,000 of us. Careful as I am when I have a ticket to see a legend of this magnitude, I had said to myself that this may very well be a case of old glory, that it would never live up to my massive expectations. But it wasn’t, and it did. It was phenomenal. Easily the best concert I have ever seen. Nothing about it suggested any “former.” It was all glory. Paul played and sang for nearly three hours. Didn’t miss a note. The man is 67. To think he once wondered if we would still need him when he’d be 64! Younger bands should watch a show like this once a year, to get some perspective. That is you, Chris Martin. And you, Bono. You’re not fit to polish Macca’s guitar. I went home a happy man. I had spent nearly three hours a mere 12 metres away from a Beatle. Cloud Nine! Even if that is a George album. I have been playing Beatles, Wings and Macca albums ever since. I just can’t bring myself to put anything else on.
I have the same feeling about Forest at the moment. While the past eight to ten years often felt like we were supporting a team whose greatness was very much in the past, this season it seems much more about the here and now and even the future. Of course first hand I can only judge by the footage I can see on the BBC League Football show, but my opinion is largely backed by the reports I read, the forums I check and the mailing list that I am part of. We are playing some great football at times. Flowing, passing football that is a joy to watch. Robert Earnshaw’s first goal against Leicester was a prime example. The attack had everything. Pace, speed, vision, a dummy, a shimmy, and a fantastic finish to boot. It was almost like watching Arsenal. And at the back, we hardly give anything away, either. It’s been 13 games now since we last lost. I can’t possibly say how long we’ve had to wait for a run like this.
At first, we protected ourselves from euphoria by saying that it was only smaller teams that we were beating or getting points off. But then we beat Newcastle and drew Middlesbrough and Cardiff, both actual competitors for promotion, both away. Then followed a 4-1 demolition of Doncaster. They are a fair bit lower in terms of league position, true, but 4-1 is a big result. And it got even better last week. When number four plays number three, you can reasonably expect a tense affair, with not too much in it. But Forest brushed Leicester aside like they were playing the reserves team! 5-1 was not the result anyone expected. The bookies would have looked at you like you were a raving madman if you’d put a fiver on that one. We’re so good right now that the 0-0 in Sheffield against the Blades felt almost like a let-down, even if a point away at Bramall Lane is a more than decent result. We didn’t play well, some even said we were a bit rubbish, but we still got that away point. And if we needed proof that we don’t need to play our best football to win games, this duly came last Saturday, when a single David McGoldrick goal dispensed with Swansea at their place. We soaked up a lot of pressure and, admittedly, Swansea were unlucky and a bit careless in finishing, but again: job done. Another massive result that got us to within two points of the automatic promotion places. Where our away form was a big problem over the past seasons, it is now simply impeccable. We haven’t lost away. All season.
Talk on the mailing lists and forums is no longer about impending doom in the form of relegation. We now talk about what will happen if we make it into the Premier League. Are we ready or not? Would it be better to stay in the Championship for another season and keep building gradually? Or would the money be good and in any case, we would get the parachute payment if we went back down? It’s a whole different mind set. And it feels a lot better.
Just like Paul McCartney managed to ignite all those old songs with a spark and make them sound brand new, Billy Davies seems to have instilled a new energy, a new sense of purpose in Nottingham Forest FC. I was a bit cynical when he first came to the club, mainly due to his record in the Premier League with our neighbours The Unmentionables, and a nagging little voice in the back of my head still says we can’t be sure he can manage in that top flight, but right here, right now, King Billy is the man for the job and I doff my hat to him. I cannot remember feeling this good about our club since the last promotion season out of this same division, then still called, inanely, the First Division, which it blatantly was not. Proud, always, but it had become a sort of blind pride, against better judgment at times. But this feels utterly, utterly great. The same sort of great as standing a small pub’s length away from Paul McCartney. Long may it last.
Be good.
Red Devil
I have the same feeling about Forest at the moment. While the past eight to ten years often felt like we were supporting a team whose greatness was very much in the past, this season it seems much more about the here and now and even the future. Of course first hand I can only judge by the footage I can see on the BBC League Football show, but my opinion is largely backed by the reports I read, the forums I check and the mailing list that I am part of. We are playing some great football at times. Flowing, passing football that is a joy to watch. Robert Earnshaw’s first goal against Leicester was a prime example. The attack had everything. Pace, speed, vision, a dummy, a shimmy, and a fantastic finish to boot. It was almost like watching Arsenal. And at the back, we hardly give anything away, either. It’s been 13 games now since we last lost. I can’t possibly say how long we’ve had to wait for a run like this.
At first, we protected ourselves from euphoria by saying that it was only smaller teams that we were beating or getting points off. But then we beat Newcastle and drew Middlesbrough and Cardiff, both actual competitors for promotion, both away. Then followed a 4-1 demolition of Doncaster. They are a fair bit lower in terms of league position, true, but 4-1 is a big result. And it got even better last week. When number four plays number three, you can reasonably expect a tense affair, with not too much in it. But Forest brushed Leicester aside like they were playing the reserves team! 5-1 was not the result anyone expected. The bookies would have looked at you like you were a raving madman if you’d put a fiver on that one. We’re so good right now that the 0-0 in Sheffield against the Blades felt almost like a let-down, even if a point away at Bramall Lane is a more than decent result. We didn’t play well, some even said we were a bit rubbish, but we still got that away point. And if we needed proof that we don’t need to play our best football to win games, this duly came last Saturday, when a single David McGoldrick goal dispensed with Swansea at their place. We soaked up a lot of pressure and, admittedly, Swansea were unlucky and a bit careless in finishing, but again: job done. Another massive result that got us to within two points of the automatic promotion places. Where our away form was a big problem over the past seasons, it is now simply impeccable. We haven’t lost away. All season.
Talk on the mailing lists and forums is no longer about impending doom in the form of relegation. We now talk about what will happen if we make it into the Premier League. Are we ready or not? Would it be better to stay in the Championship for another season and keep building gradually? Or would the money be good and in any case, we would get the parachute payment if we went back down? It’s a whole different mind set. And it feels a lot better.
Just like Paul McCartney managed to ignite all those old songs with a spark and make them sound brand new, Billy Davies seems to have instilled a new energy, a new sense of purpose in Nottingham Forest FC. I was a bit cynical when he first came to the club, mainly due to his record in the Premier League with our neighbours The Unmentionables, and a nagging little voice in the back of my head still says we can’t be sure he can manage in that top flight, but right here, right now, King Billy is the man for the job and I doff my hat to him. I cannot remember feeling this good about our club since the last promotion season out of this same division, then still called, inanely, the First Division, which it blatantly was not. Proud, always, but it had become a sort of blind pride, against better judgment at times. But this feels utterly, utterly great. The same sort of great as standing a small pub’s length away from Paul McCartney. Long may it last.
Be good.
Red Devil
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