Of Cakes and Handshakes

Yaya Toure in happier times

Just when you think football can’t possibly get any more ridiculous, along comes a story about a 31-year-old man being so upset about only getting a birthday cake from his employers that he’s prepared to jack in his £220,000 a week contract and leave. A grown man. A grown man who, for the record, is not only 31 years old, but earns £220,000 a week.

Twelve Days Of A Magic Spongers Christmas

"I was asking YOU if you thought I'D said merry Christmas to YOU!"

With (probably) our last post of 2012, we couldn't help but get in the festive spirit so in time-honoured Spongers fashion, we start off with a rant. Here's our now semi-regular (and brilliant) contributor Dan Forman with his take on 'Twelve Days of Christmas'.

Truly it's been what a Viz version of the Queen's speech might call an anus horribilis for the Premier League. In no particular order other than it features Chelsea quite a lot (which kind of tells its own story) we have had:

• John Terry abusing Anton Ferdinand (and Chelsea's handling thereof); 

• Luis Suarez refusing to shake Patrice Evra’s hand a few months after allegedly abusing him (and Liverpool's handling thereof); 

• The Mark Clattenberg affair (and Chelsea's handling thereof); 

• Roberto Mancini having to back down and pick a player who refused to warm up; 

• John Terry lifting the European Cup; 

• Newcastle's sponsorship deal with Wonga; 

• Ashley Cole defending John Terry in court;

• Arsenal putting their ticket prices up to the highest in the world, only to then not sign one of the best players in the world, but actually sell one;

• Roman Abramovich stripping out the last remaining layer of Chelsea's soul with the sacking of Roberto di Matteo;

Farewell to England's Bravest Man

YEAH BYE

Goodbye England’s rose,
May you ever grow in our hearts,
You turned offending everyone
Into a noble art.

Armbands And Firebrands

"Just do what the fuck you want"

After a couple of weeks of nostalgia and pretending to be grown-ups, we thought it about time we had a good old rant. Wonder what our favourite subjects over at England have been up to? What? WHAT? He made him CAPTAIN? Oh goody...

There’s a certain laissez-faire that can creep in when you know you’re about to leave a job. Depending on how much you cared about it in the first place, it can sway from proudly maintaining your professionalism until the bitter end to basically, ahem, not giving a fuck anymore. Naturally, you don’t want anyone to notice that you can’t be arsed to make the brews, let alone the decisions, as your contract winds down. But when you start contradicting yourself, say, or ignoring your colleagues and give the impression that you’ll be glad when all this shit is someone else’s responsibility, you should expect to be exposed to the occasional shellacking.

Essien Absence Exposes Chelsea

For the majority of the 2010-11 season, Chelsea have resembled a well-oiled machine – a well-oiled steamroller, to be precise. Opening with six straight league wins and 21 goals led most to predict that the title was already over and that we might as well go back to patronising Blackpool, slagging off the Premier League for being processional rather than professional, and not knowing quite what to make of the fact that Andy Carroll lives with Kevin Nolan.

Terry Putsches Above His Weight

It’s unclear whether or not John Terry has ever read The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, but if he were to, perhaps he could superimpose the concept of himself as Our Glorious Leader over the notion of a supernatural creator and realise he is in fact a delusion himself and not in fact the saviour of English football. Please listen to me John: you are NOT England captain anymore.

Let me recap. England’s Brave John Terry turns up to a press conference with something clearly on his mind, betrayed by the beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. As if his life depended on it, Terry then blurts out that all is far from well in the camp. That Fabio Capello is so bloody-mindedly sticking to a flawed formula that England’s place in the World Cup is in severe jeopardy. Publicly calling for Joe Cole’s inclusion and stressing that if his words upset the manager, ”so what”, Terry went further, by some considerable margin, than any English player has ever gone in criticising life under Capello. Something had clearly come to a head for the FORMER England captain. Shame he couldn’t have used his before voicing his dismay in the media before even going to his manager’s door.

Quite what prompted Terry to go public with his concerns, only he knows. If it was an exercise in appeasing a disaffected public in the wake of the abysmal stalemate with Algeria, it was at best ill-conceived and at worst sheer bloody stupid. He has gone into the press room juggling apples and ended up with onions all over his face. To Terry apologists, once again, the bravest man to come out of England since Terry Butcher has once more bounded into the breach, dear friends. He shall never surrender.

Well, someone needs to remind him that he is not captain anymore. That he doesn’t speak for the players. His vanity has been his downfall in that he has spectacularly misjudged the level of support he has in the dressing room – only long-suffering mate Frank Lampard offered any sympathy and even then it was distanced. And first and foremost, someone needs to remind him that you don’t go running to the media to criticise your manager. Not when your manager is Fabio Capello anyway.

Capello, for his part, has played the whole situation as expertly as one would expect. He has isolated the ringleader and treated him for the entire world to see as a petulant little schoolboy who has made a “big mistake”. Capello asserted: “The mistake is you have to speak with the players, with me, with the dressing room.” And so, what could feasibly have been a minor revolt passed off as a non-event triggered by the passion, yes, but also the vanity of one man. As far as rebellions go it was less blood and thunder and more mouse fart. The Italian left no one under any illusions who is boss, as was the only way he could have successfully dealt with Terry’s display of dissent. You are not in Cobham now, John.

Terry has form with this ‘heart on sleeve’ bollocks as we all well know. Hearsay this may be, though I doubt it, JT also fell out with the best manager in the worldTM, Jose Mourinho, up until then his loyal right-hand man, back in 2007. When Mourinho sought to discover if there was a physical reason for Terry’s sub-standard performances, the brave one was furious. He has always been able to dish out criticism but has rarely been able to take it. This much is true when he, not in so many words, says that Emile Heskey is crap (by calling for Cole’s inclusion). Yet, if memory serves, was it not JT’s wretchedly lazy backpass that meant we almost lost to Algeria on Friday night? If he was indispensible to England, I could just about stomach his outburst. But he isn’t. Perhaps more so now with injuries to Rio Ferdinand and Ledley King, alongside the suspension of Jamie Carragher, but certainly through lack of viable options rather than his own form. Capello has laid down the gauntlet, JT needs to rid himself of this ludicrous God complex and pick it up. Adam Bushby

A Tale of Two Centre Backs

John Terry has become the human equivalent of Millwall FC. ‘No-one likes me and I don’t care,’ he pouts. There’s a reason why people don’t like you John. If you pardon my asterisks, it’s because you consistently and unashamedly act like a f****** c***. And if we take the person as institution metaphor a step further, it appears Terry has also become the human equivalent of the Conservative Party with his contemptuous ‘born to rule’ mentality which sneerily puts down any attempt to question his form by kissing his badge or taking off his beloved blue shirt to emphasise the word ‘captain’ adorning his bicep. All of this superficial preening merely serves to underline that attitude is everything to England’s JT. It is everything and ultimately it leaves him with nothing. Because it is this stinking attitude that means that when Terry clatters his England teammate James Milner with a horribly late tackle in the FA Cup semi final, rather than check to see if his supposed pal is ok, he is instead right in the ref’s face presumably asking ‘what the fuck is that for?’ It is this attitude that has him mouthing ‘twice I got the ball’ after being sent off against Spurs when twice he didn’t get the ball.

After the furore over his personal life and the fallout over losing his England captaincy, you would have thought he’d have had the good sense to shut his mouth and get his head down. As unlikeable as John Terry is, I would have had a grudging respect if he’d have shown any sort of humility, held his hands up, let it be known he was in the wrong and got on with playing football. But where he dips his wick has no bearing on his abilities on the field I hear you say. Well my argument is that in Terry’s case, it does. He is ruled by an overbearing juvenile ego where he seems to have to constantly prove himself as a man. Off the pitch this means shagging Wayne Bridge’s ex. On the pitch, it means tearing into tackles when a little contemplation wouldn’t go amiss and generally engaging mouth before brain when dealing with referees.

Quite how being the fourth best centre back on the field at White Hart Lane on Saturday evening gives Terry the ammunition to be anything but sheepish is anyone’s guess. Meanwhile, you have Michael Dawson who has grown in stature this season to finally live up to the billing that made him such an exciting prospect all those years ago at Nottingham Forest. One of my housemates is a Spurs fan and more so than the other two I live with (Wigan and York City fans), he has been waxing lyrical about Dawson to anyone and everyone who will listen. I was at White Hart Lane for the Spurs Blackburn game a month or so ago and when he wasn’t being completely commanding and looking every inch the international centre back, Dawson was spraying 50-yard passes straight onto Gareth Bale’s left foot. He looked very good indeed.

It hasn’t been a flash in the pan either. Imperious for the majority of the season, Dawson seems to have come of age, especially in the two games that could define Spurs’ season and particularly against Chelsea when he effectively snuffed out the threat posed by one of the world’s most dangerous strikers, encapsulated by that perfect sliding tackle in the final ten minutes on Drogba. Surely the form of Terry has now become a worry to Fabio Capello as the ancient wisdom of automatically pairing he with Rio Ferdinand seems more and more to be based on flawed logic. ‘He’s committed and brave,’ say Chelsea fans. ‘He puts his body on the line,’ they crow. Yeah well he also has a dreadful temperament. He has been undone by pace all season. He is a one man harassment law case when he gets within five yards of a referee. And although I suppose Algeria fans won't be chanting 'John Terry, your mum's a thief' at him in Cape Town, you've still got to worry about him in South Africa against the likes of Messi, Villa, Torres. Only one of Dawson and Terry appears to be getting on the plane to South Africa it seems and as time passes it is looking increasingly like it will end up being the wrong one. Adam Bushby

C U Next Tournament

Mighty Morphin' Power DICKHEAD

Ironically for Jose Mourinho, last night was the night Chelsea became the jilted lover. From instigators of the separation from their old manager, Chelsea became the party somehow wronged, furious at the injustice not only of Mourinho winning but of… of… just EVERYTHING.

‘Take that, adversity’, Didier Drogba thought, as his petulant and squealy strop connected with Thiago Motta’s ankle ‘by mistake’.

‘Don’t they know I only turn up on Saturdays for the free lunch?’ wondered Michael Ballack. ‘I’m not here to cover my defenders.’

‘…?’, shrugged Nicolas Anelka, non-existently.

‘F***ING S**T’, opined John Terry, a man who knows a thing or two about jilted lovers, to the fourth official. Presumably not as familiar with internal rhetorical questions as most of his colleagues, and upset at being soundly beaten, Terry took a few moments to remind us that it wasn’t all about Mourinho after all.

Similarities have already been drawn to Chelsea’s ignominious exit at the hands of Barcelona last year. Chelsea (nay, the whole of football) should have learned at the time you’re supposed to take the chances afforded to you – should you create any – than whining about the ones that are not. The referee is not going to consider your protests, however carefully constructed, when the moment has passed. He certainly won’t consider them when you present them as though the injustice is so severe that you cannot comprehend existing for another second in such a cruel and thoughtless world, just because someone trod on your shoelaces and you went down like a sack of shit.

Never grappled anyone to the ground at a corner, John Terry? Never delayed taking a free kick? So blinded by fury was the Chelsea captain, he even drove over a steward’s leg on the way out of the ground.

A little introspection in these situations would go a long way. A little introspection was what we were supposed to have been getting from the former England captain following his eventful few weeks. Yet again he didn’t manage it. Yet again it is doing my head in. And I do NOT want to hear the ridiculous excuse about the ‘will to win’ and ‘passion for the club’ that is wheeled out every time a footballer takes leave of his sense of humanity and embarrasses us all. Anyone with a brain can see the difference. Maybe that’s the problem.