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Showing posts with label Diego Maradona. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Diego Maradona. Show all posts

Thursday, 12 June 2014

Preview #2 - the World Cup is ACE

IT'S GOING TO BE ACE YOU F***S

Part two of our World Cup preview goes all Eric Idle and looks on the bright side. It's a World Cup. In Brazil. A WORLD CUP. IN BRAZIL. What's not to love, exactly?

When is a preview not a preview? When it comes after the event has started? Oh shit. We better start writing then. Plans here to concoct something approaching a coherent preview and even a series of podcasts have gone awry in a blaze of work deadlines and £4.50-for-two vodka and coke deals in York’s premier nightspot, Fibbers. So what we’ve decided to do, in principle at least, is make a half-arsed attempt to cover as much of the tournament as we can, which will probably end up being a solitary article lamenting England’s winless, car-crash of a capitulation at the group stage, while taking the piss out of the root and branch enquiry into the national team’s failings in South Africa four years ago. Business as usual then.

Thursday, 14 July 2011

Dickheads #5 - Diego Maradona

'Music loud, and women warm, I've been kicked around since I was born'

A warm welcome to Jake Harrison, whose distate for Diego has NOTHING to do with 'that goal against England', alright?

When I was growing up, there was always one name, one footballer in particular that really riled my Dad. This man’s name, when mentioned, was always accompanied with the word “cheat” – along with other, more colourful phrases – so I pretty much grew up thinking that this man was the footballing equivalent of Satan.

Thursday, 17 February 2011

Another Fine Messi

Overratedness and its bedfellow hype are everywhere in football. Their prevalence makes finding their antonym very satisfying. Whisper it, but Lionel Messi might just be a tad underrated. Bear with me.

We are bombarded by images, from billboards and Sky Sports to You Tube via Facebook and back. It is this infiltration of the everyday by the image, maximised by the omnipotent presence of the internet, that takes away the most romantic notion of mystery. What was once mystery then takes the form of myth. Cardiff City fans telling you Robin Friday was the best player they ever saw (and you never saw). The delicious and possibly apocryphal anecdote from Roker Park, May 9 1973, centring on Stan Bowles being egged on by his teammates to knock the FA Cup off a trestle table by the side of the pitch, triggering chaos on Wearside. Alfredo Di Stefano amusing his Real Madrid teammates by juggling a bar of soap in the changing room.

Wednesday, 19 May 2010

Hand of God, Random Squad


In a week that contained plenty of ‘surprises’ masquerading as surprises (Chelsea miss a penalty in a major final, a senior FA employee is the victim of a pretty lady and a national tabloid), the announcement of the provisional World Cup squads at least brought some genuine incredulity to proceedings. I’m not talking about England, either, for whom any lingering notion that Capello would pick players purely on form was quashed with few surprises. You can probably pick his starting XI against the USA right now, injuries permitting (go on then: James, Johnson, Ferdinand, Terry, Cole, Barry, Lampard, Gerrard, Walcott, Heskey, Rooney). Elsewhere around the world, the outrage expressed on behalf of Bobby Zamora in England was perhaps more suitably outpoured for the Argentineans not fortunate enough to make Diego Maradona’s squad.

Given that Maradona has called up around 100 players in the year and a half he has been in charge of the national team, perhaps predicting his squad was always going to be totally impossible. However, given what we know of the Champions League and Serie ‘A’ this year, for him not to find room for Esteban Cambiasso and Javier Zanetti – who has 136 caps – is particularly surprising.

The case for the defence rests even less easy when it transpires that Maradona has also omitted Barcelona centre back Gabriel Milito and included Fabricio Coloccini. Who plays for Newcastle (and since this article was written, has been dropped as the squad was trimmed from 30 to 23).

Actually, the situation is more than surprising. It is borderline unbelievable. The tributes that have flowed out of the San Siro for Zanetti following Inter’s fifth successive title – Moratti reckons it’s been his best season ever – are for a man who has played every minute of all but one match, for which he was suspended. He may be 36, but he can play all over the pitch and he is an experienced international defender. A falling-out has been speculated over since the final World Cup qualifier, in which Zanetti apparently gathered the team around him on the pitch and re-calibrated the side, dismissing Maradona’s earlier team talk. More reason than ever to include him, you might argue.

Inter’s Argentine defenders are represented solely by Walter Samuel, who hadn’t had a look in under Maradona until the March friendly against Germany, but has presumably been included only on that basis – one would think his outstanding form domestically has helped. By that line of thinking it is even more bewildering that in midfield, Esteban Cambiasso should miss out, given that he spent a season imperiously nullifying Italy and Europe’s best – Argentina’s great hope Messi included. Considering the form and domestic woes of Cambiasso’s direct peer, Javier Mascherano, this season, his omission is all the more surprising. However, the continued presence of Seba Veron at the expense of Juan Roman Riquelme should leave no-one in any doubt that Maradona, when faced with two choices, will invariably pick the wrong Juan. Links between defence and attack, should Veron’s legs go, are scarce.

Maradona’s career has become feted and questioned in equal measure over his preference for including Argentine-based players ahead of more illustrious European counterparts. Of the 96 players used by Maradona in the last 12 months, 52 are based in Argentina. All well and good, but amazingly, only five of the 52 (Juan Sebastian Veron, Ariel Ortega, Federico Insua, Martin Palermo and Clemente Rodriguez) have more than six caps and most, therefore, are new under Maradona. Of those five, Veron (age 35, 69 caps), Palermo (36, 13 caps) and Rodriguez (28, 11 caps) are in the provisional squad. The other seven Argentine-based players in the squad have a total of 19 caps between them and all appear to have sprung to prominence in recent friendlies against Spain, Costa Rica, Jamaica, Germany and Haiti. A rigorous selection process it is not.

Maradona is, however, blessed with a strike force the envy of the world. Argentina’s embarrassment of riches in the forward areas is the sole remaining reason, despite Maradona’s best efforts, that some believe they can still be tipped for the World Cup. Messi. Tevez. Higuain. Di Maria. Milito. Aguero. Awesome. Are they unstoppable? Potentially. Any lingering doubts about the frailties at the back could be vanquished if the ball can be kept at the other end of the field.

FIFA’s much maligned and probably useless rankings reckon Argentina are the seventh-best team in the world. However, they have not been beyond the quarters of the World Cup since 1990. That said, offsetting Maradona, football’s crackpot, are stellar striking options, fresh new caps who have been playing in their homeland in the build-up to an international tournament and capable, if unspectacular veterans. Once Maradona has been forced to settle on just 23, and maybe even despite his tactics, it would be a brave, but not necessarily foolish man who backed Argentina this summer. Focusing on the inclusions rather than the omissions may lead you to do just that. Rob MacDonald