The Guardian reports that Carlos Tévez wants to leave West Ham because he is at odds with manager Alan Curbishley. Manchester United, Chelsea and Liverpool are all mentioned as possible suitors, although Tévez is sure to draw offers from the big clubs in Italy and Spain and elsewhere in Europe.
The story reports that Tévez is still angry about the way Curbishley treated him when Curbishley joined the club in December. Tévez also reportedly believes that Curbishley will not be able to help the Argentinian develop his game. Tévez, according to the article, would be willing to stay at West Ham if another manager were brought in. The club has not responded, but I imagine the that response from chairman Eggert Magnusson would be that Curbishley is the manager that the Icelander expects to lead the team to new heights, including a place in Europe, in the coming seasons. That is certainly the tone struck in a letter the club is sending out to season ticket holders.
The article cites its source for this information as "a West Ham insider." I don't think it's fair to say that there is any connection between this story and Nigel Reo-Coker's transfer request, but, at the same time, it would be naive not to mention that these stories emerged at the same time. Perhaps Reo-Coker's agent is relaying these thoughts to reporters? I don't know. It's possible, but we have nothing else to suggest it besides the common timing and the sense that Reo-Coker built up some sour feelings about the club and its fans during a trying season. Anyway, Reo-Coker's request is no surprise, as it's been rumored for months, but the story about Tévez's views is worrisome, if true. Then again, perhaps we shouldn't have been holding out even a little hope of his return in any case, what with the money available to his owners in the transfer market. West Ham may take the legal position that Tévez's economic owners have no say in his possible transfer, but West Ham also has to be aware of the money on offer and the ability to settle this entire business amicably without there being a lawsuit to fight.
Meanwhile, Liverpool reportedly will part with striker Craig Bellamy for the low, low transfer price of £12 million, and West Ham are among the interested teams. Bellamy could be seen, in part, as replacement for Tévez, although I haven't seen him play enough to know how he would fit in at Upton Park. Bobby Zamora and the recovering Dean Ashton look to be the only significant holdovers among the strikers, so Bellamy would have to be effective in partnership with them.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
A less-famous English sight
Verona, Italy, is known for the story of Romeo and Juliet, as popularized by William Shakespeare. When my family and I visited Verona on our recent trip to Italy, we were taken to see Juliet's balcony, or at least that's what they say it is. I found a football shop nearby a lot more interesting. It was less crowded, too. I bought us a couple of umbrellas at the shop, as it was pouring in Verona that day, and I also took a look at the dozens of football scarves for sale. I was particularly glad to see a Queens Park Rangers scarf, as that's the side that my friend James from London supports. He enjoyed seeing this photo and sharing it with some other QPR supporters.
I have sifted all the football-related photos out of the more than 1,300 photos that I took in Italy. (Digital cameras with high-capacity memory chips are almost too enabling for me, as I find myself taking pictures of damn near everything.) I hope to share more of them in the next few weeks.
Almost got me in trouble
I have been getting a kick out of the Guardian's cheeky football column known as the Fiver. I just signed up Friday to receive it via email. The Friday edition featured a reader letter that cracked me up:
"So Kaká belongs to Jesus, does he (Kaká's T-shirt, [at the] Big Cup final)? I wonder what [Wigan chairman] Dave Whelan thinks about that particular third party loan arrangement?" - Ross Williams.I was reading the Fiver at work, and that line cracked me up. I was worried someone would notice that I wasn't working.
Spector on Gold Cup team
As TMG pointed out to me, West Ham defender Jonathan Spector has been named to the U.S. team for the CONCACAF Gold Cup next month. The 12-team competition, held in odd-numbered years, will be played at stadiums throughout the U.S. and will conclude with semifinals on June 21 and finals on June 24 at Soldier Field in Chicago.
(Music to write by: Drive-By Truckers, "Decoration Day.")
(Music to write by: Drive-By Truckers, "Decoration Day.")
Thursday, May 24, 2007
A good sign
The Premier League has agreed to the request by Sheffield United to establish an arbitration panel to review the ruling in the Carlos Tévez-Javier Mascherano case, but the league is also working on a fixture list that doesn't include the Blades, the Independent reported:
Sheffield United will pursue their claim that an independent commission should have deducted points from West Ham and that the League should have cancelled Tevez's registration. It is more likely, however, that should they persuade the arbitration panel of their case, they would be awarded a compensation payment rather than having the commission's decision overturned.We can only hope that that is the extent of the damage, at worst. I find encouragement from the league's interpretation of the remit of the arbitration panel: It is to review the processes that the league used in establishing the original independent commission that levied the £5.5 million fine against West Ham, not the decision in the case itself. As always, I'll remind that I'm not a lawyer, but that sounds like good news for the Hammers.
The place Carlos is from
I'm very late in getting to this, so I'm very glad that it's still available. The Independent's Neil Clack filed a wonderful story on the Buenos Aires neighborhood that Carlos Tévez grew up in. The story offers a glimpse of where Tévez came from and impressions of those who knew him as a boy and saw him grow into an acclaimed footballer. Perhaps the story gives us a little insight into how Tévez managed to be so brilliant in the relegation race as a hurricane raged around him.
Sign it, and I'll buy your shirt
I read about this a couple of days ago, but I can't find the story, so this one will have to do. Midfielder Yossi Benayoun is reportedly likely to stay in the fold at Upton Park, as the club and the Israeli international captain have patched things up. Nothing like a substantial raise (on the order of 67%) and safety from relegation to change a player's mind. I've seen conflicting reports on the length of the deal, either four or five years. Either way, if Benayoun signs a deal of any substantial length -- let's say, three years, minimum -- I'll buy a No. 15 shirt in celebration of my favorite Hammer staying on the East End.
UPDATE: Woo-hoo!
UPDATE: Woo-hoo!
Ignorance would have been bliss
Wednesday night, I wanted to watch my recording of the UEFA Champions League final between Liverpool and AC Milan. The problem was that I was scheduled to play volleyball with my friends. Not that I wasn't enthusiastic about the start of our little coed league playoffs, because I was, but I was worried that I would learn the result before getting a chance to watch it if I didn't watch it Wednesday night. My fears were realized in a bar located, in all places, in the shadows of Wrigley Field.
As we were starting to warm up, my friend Tom asked if my team were playing in the Champions League final. I cut him off quickly, "Oh, no, and don't tell me what happened if you know the score." He laughed. After we lost our match two games to nil, we headed up to Murphy's Bleachers to have a few beers. The Cubs, playing the San Diego Padres on WGN, were on most of the televisions. One big TV mounted on the wall behind us had Comcast Sports Net. They were the next to try to spoil the result for me. I caught sight of what I thought were highlights of the match out of the corner of my eye, so I asked Tom, "Is that the soccer match on the highlights?" (Yeah, I used "soccer." It sounds very affected to say "football" in the U.S. among those who don't really follow the game.) Yes, he said, so I turned my head to the baseball game till Tom told me it was safe.
After the Cubs game, the local news came on, and even they showed highlights of the match. I did not anticipate this at all. Comcast was easier to avoid because the sound system in the bar had the Cubs telecast on, but now that sound remained with the newscast that followed. This time, most of the televisions were showing the highlights, so it wasn't easy to find a direction in which to look. I must have looked ridiculous with my hands over my ears, too.
That made it all the more frustrating when I learned, inadvertently, that AC Milan had beaten Liverpool 2-1 in Athens. Eventually, most of the televisions that had aired the Cubs game and the late local news were switched to ESPN. The Four Letter has the American rights to the Champions League, so European football is now important to the Four Letter. I was on the lookout for a highlight package, but I wasn't quick enough to avoid seeing the score of the match on the ticker at the bottom of the screen.
Wednesday night's experience made me appreciate the second item in the Thursday column by Richard Roeper of the Chicago Sun-Times. He couldn't quite coin a term for what I was trying to accomplish Wednesday night, but otherwise, I thought he hit the right notes. For example, I was watching a baseball game last season on a slight delay of about 20 minutes. My cellphone rang, and I saw it was my friend BT calling. I answered and rapidly said, "Hey, don't tell me what's going on in the (White) Sox game because I'm two innings behind." Deep breath. "How are you?" Well, he was calling to tell me about a play that I would see a little later. I called him the next morning and agreed that the White Sox middle infielders had turned a spectacular double play.
As for the Champions League final, I watched it Thursday night. I wished that Rafa Benítez had inserted Peter Crouch into the game a little sooner, as the Reds didn't look to threaten the Milan net much, especially in the second half. Kaká had moments of brilliance, such as a deft 360-spin move while retaining possession of the ball in the first half. The Brazilian also set up Filippo Inzaghi's second goal, which put AC Milan up 2-0, late in the second half.
Despite the loss, I chose the music I listened to while writing tonight's items with a nod to the Kop: the Pink Floyd song "Fearless" includes a recording of the Anfield faithful singing "You'll Never Walk Alone" as the song fades out, something that I never knew until tonight, even though I've had that CD for many years. I also learned a bit more about Scousers and the rivalry between Liverpool and Manchester United thanks to a great article on the rivalry in FourFourTwo that I read today.
(Music to write by: Pink Floyd, "Meddle," and Blur, "Modern Life Is Rubbish.")
As we were starting to warm up, my friend Tom asked if my team were playing in the Champions League final. I cut him off quickly, "Oh, no, and don't tell me what happened if you know the score." He laughed. After we lost our match two games to nil, we headed up to Murphy's Bleachers to have a few beers. The Cubs, playing the San Diego Padres on WGN, were on most of the televisions. One big TV mounted on the wall behind us had Comcast Sports Net. They were the next to try to spoil the result for me. I caught sight of what I thought were highlights of the match out of the corner of my eye, so I asked Tom, "Is that the soccer match on the highlights?" (Yeah, I used "soccer." It sounds very affected to say "football" in the U.S. among those who don't really follow the game.) Yes, he said, so I turned my head to the baseball game till Tom told me it was safe.
After the Cubs game, the local news came on, and even they showed highlights of the match. I did not anticipate this at all. Comcast was easier to avoid because the sound system in the bar had the Cubs telecast on, but now that sound remained with the newscast that followed. This time, most of the televisions were showing the highlights, so it wasn't easy to find a direction in which to look. I must have looked ridiculous with my hands over my ears, too.
That made it all the more frustrating when I learned, inadvertently, that AC Milan had beaten Liverpool 2-1 in Athens. Eventually, most of the televisions that had aired the Cubs game and the late local news were switched to ESPN. The Four Letter has the American rights to the Champions League, so European football is now important to the Four Letter. I was on the lookout for a highlight package, but I wasn't quick enough to avoid seeing the score of the match on the ticker at the bottom of the screen.
Wednesday night's experience made me appreciate the second item in the Thursday column by Richard Roeper of the Chicago Sun-Times. He couldn't quite coin a term for what I was trying to accomplish Wednesday night, but otherwise, I thought he hit the right notes. For example, I was watching a baseball game last season on a slight delay of about 20 minutes. My cellphone rang, and I saw it was my friend BT calling. I answered and rapidly said, "Hey, don't tell me what's going on in the (White) Sox game because I'm two innings behind." Deep breath. "How are you?" Well, he was calling to tell me about a play that I would see a little later. I called him the next morning and agreed that the White Sox middle infielders had turned a spectacular double play.
As for the Champions League final, I watched it Thursday night. I wished that Rafa Benítez had inserted Peter Crouch into the game a little sooner, as the Reds didn't look to threaten the Milan net much, especially in the second half. Kaká had moments of brilliance, such as a deft 360-spin move while retaining possession of the ball in the first half. The Brazilian also set up Filippo Inzaghi's second goal, which put AC Milan up 2-0, late in the second half.
Despite the loss, I chose the music I listened to while writing tonight's items with a nod to the Kop: the Pink Floyd song "Fearless" includes a recording of the Anfield faithful singing "You'll Never Walk Alone" as the song fades out, something that I never knew until tonight, even though I've had that CD for many years. I also learned a bit more about Scousers and the rivalry between Liverpool and Manchester United thanks to a great article on the rivalry in FourFourTwo that I read today.
(Music to write by: Pink Floyd, "Meddle," and Blur, "Modern Life Is Rubbish.")
Friday, May 18, 2007
B for belated and BEAT THE DROP
I am very late in getting to say this, but, can you believe it? Can you believe it? Sunday's magnificent 1-0 victory over Manchester United and the completion of West Ham's stunning run to safety leave me, even five days later, in disbelief.
West Ham's game was the featured live game on Fox Soccer Channel Sunday morning. I was glad for that, as going to the Globe at 8:30 a.m. on Mother's Day probably wouldn't be the best tribute to Mom. I plopped down in front of the television in my West Ham hoodie about 20 minutes to 9 a.m. The Marquette Grad was very sweet, leaving me to watch the match while she walked to the bagel shop and got us breakfast. In contrast to the Wigan fixture a week earlier, I was strangely relaxed for West Ham taking on the Premier League champions on their home ground with the entire future of the club up for grabs. Relaxed isn't really the right word, actually. I was tense, but not nervous. Maybe, subconsciously, I was banking on Manchester United not having much to play for on Sunday, particularly with the FA Cup final scheduled for Saturday. Maybe, too, I expected Sheffield United to at least win a point at home against Wigan. That was probably it more than anything.
From the initial few minutes of the game, it seemed to me that the strategy was similar to the approach the Hammers took at the Emirates: Play safe, avoid giving up a chance in the clear, focus on the clean sheet. If we manage to score a goal, the Hammers seemed to be saying, that would be nice, but it's not necessary. In this case, that was literally true, as a draw guaranteed safety. I understand the strategy, but I find it nerve-wracking to watch because so many good chances result. Against Arsenal, it was up to Robert Green and his friends -- the posts and crossbar -- to keep a clean sheet. Working together, they did just that. Sunday, Green had a human helper -- midfielder Yossi Benayoun. Twice Benayoun cleared a ball off the line, one with a header off a play that resulted from a corner kick. TMG's favorite Hammer also got in the act, as Jonathan Spector came on in the 29th minute to replace George McCartney, who appeared to have an injury in his upper leg. Spector immediately blocked a shot and was himself down for a moment.
Then, again like the Arsenal match at the Emirates, a goal just before half came the way of the Hammers. Instead of Bobby Zamora chipping one over Jens Lehman, this time, Zamora was a helper to -- who else? -- Carlos Tévez on a beautiful 1-2. Tévez is simply amazing. I was bracing myself throughout the match for a brilliant stretch of play from Man U that would overcome that goal and bury the Hammers. The Red Devils had so many chances, but they couldn't connect, fortunately, on too many of them, and Green and Benayoun took care of those that they did. But throughout the game, Man U kept the pressure up. In the short time that I have been watching football, no substitution has ever scared me as much as the triple Sir Alex Ferguson made with about 30 minutes left -- Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes and Cristiano Ronaldo. The game that really shifted my interest in football into a higher gear was the Man U game at Upton Park. I caught the last 15 minutes or so live, and I was riveted watching the Hammers keep the Red Devils at bay. Watching them defend a 1-0 lead for three times as long on Sunday was fraught with a lot more tension than that December match, when I was a barely interested fan drawn in more because a good friend rooted for West Ham than anything else.
Since Sunday, I've traded a few emails with my friend Phil. They were not the most erudite emails that we have traded. "HAMMERS BEAT THE DROP!!!" I wrote to Phil. "Can you believe it?????" Phil wrote back, and then later, an email consisting solely of the phrase "TEVEZ IS MY BOY!!!!" repeated 37 times. TMG and I also received an email from her sister in London with the subject line, "This is huge!," and a link to a Reuters account of Sunday's action in the Premiership that led with West Ham's victory and featured a photo of Tévez celebrating his goal. TMG's sister was disappointed to learn that the English season is over because she is visiting Chicago next week, and she was hoping to go to the Globe with us. Not that we need the excuse of a West Ham game for day drinking. I think it would be fitting if we hoisted a morning pint to the Hammers next Saturday.
West Ham's game was the featured live game on Fox Soccer Channel Sunday morning. I was glad for that, as going to the Globe at 8:30 a.m. on Mother's Day probably wouldn't be the best tribute to Mom. I plopped down in front of the television in my West Ham hoodie about 20 minutes to 9 a.m. The Marquette Grad was very sweet, leaving me to watch the match while she walked to the bagel shop and got us breakfast. In contrast to the Wigan fixture a week earlier, I was strangely relaxed for West Ham taking on the Premier League champions on their home ground with the entire future of the club up for grabs. Relaxed isn't really the right word, actually. I was tense, but not nervous. Maybe, subconsciously, I was banking on Manchester United not having much to play for on Sunday, particularly with the FA Cup final scheduled for Saturday. Maybe, too, I expected Sheffield United to at least win a point at home against Wigan. That was probably it more than anything.
From the initial few minutes of the game, it seemed to me that the strategy was similar to the approach the Hammers took at the Emirates: Play safe, avoid giving up a chance in the clear, focus on the clean sheet. If we manage to score a goal, the Hammers seemed to be saying, that would be nice, but it's not necessary. In this case, that was literally true, as a draw guaranteed safety. I understand the strategy, but I find it nerve-wracking to watch because so many good chances result. Against Arsenal, it was up to Robert Green and his friends -- the posts and crossbar -- to keep a clean sheet. Working together, they did just that. Sunday, Green had a human helper -- midfielder Yossi Benayoun. Twice Benayoun cleared a ball off the line, one with a header off a play that resulted from a corner kick. TMG's favorite Hammer also got in the act, as Jonathan Spector came on in the 29th minute to replace George McCartney, who appeared to have an injury in his upper leg. Spector immediately blocked a shot and was himself down for a moment.
Then, again like the Arsenal match at the Emirates, a goal just before half came the way of the Hammers. Instead of Bobby Zamora chipping one over Jens Lehman, this time, Zamora was a helper to -- who else? -- Carlos Tévez on a beautiful 1-2. Tévez is simply amazing. I was bracing myself throughout the match for a brilliant stretch of play from Man U that would overcome that goal and bury the Hammers. The Red Devils had so many chances, but they couldn't connect, fortunately, on too many of them, and Green and Benayoun took care of those that they did. But throughout the game, Man U kept the pressure up. In the short time that I have been watching football, no substitution has ever scared me as much as the triple Sir Alex Ferguson made with about 30 minutes left -- Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes and Cristiano Ronaldo. The game that really shifted my interest in football into a higher gear was the Man U game at Upton Park. I caught the last 15 minutes or so live, and I was riveted watching the Hammers keep the Red Devils at bay. Watching them defend a 1-0 lead for three times as long on Sunday was fraught with a lot more tension than that December match, when I was a barely interested fan drawn in more because a good friend rooted for West Ham than anything else.
Since Sunday, I've traded a few emails with my friend Phil. They were not the most erudite emails that we have traded. "HAMMERS BEAT THE DROP!!!" I wrote to Phil. "Can you believe it?????" Phil wrote back, and then later, an email consisting solely of the phrase "TEVEZ IS MY BOY!!!!" repeated 37 times. TMG and I also received an email from her sister in London with the subject line, "This is huge!," and a link to a Reuters account of Sunday's action in the Premiership that led with West Ham's victory and featured a photo of Tévez celebrating his goal. TMG's sister was disappointed to learn that the English season is over because she is visiting Chicago next week, and she was hoping to go to the Globe with us. Not that we need the excuse of a West Ham game for day drinking. I think it would be fitting if we hoisted a morning pint to the Hammers next Saturday.
Sharing the loot
Some of the stories this week talk of a "furor" that will result if West Ham pocket a large windfall for selling Carlos Tévez to another European club during the summer transfer window. First, of course, I hope that the Hammers find a way to keep Tévez. I don't know if that will be possible from a fiscal standpoint, but it would be wonderful to keep the hero of the Great Escape in Upton Park and, putting aside sentimentality, it would be even better to be able to continue to watch him work his mastery for the Irons.
But if he is sold for £20 million or £25 million or even £30 million, I doubt that West Ham will be the sole beneficiary of that windfall. My guess is that the club will have to turn over a significant share of the loot to Kia Joorabchian, the agent whose deal with the club for Tévez and Javier Mascherano caused all the ruckus over the last nine months. As always, I'll state up front that I am not a lawyer, but it seems to me that even if the club unilaterally cancelled Joorabchian's influence over Tévez's fate in order to comply with the Premier League's rules, the club will have to compensate Joorabchian financially or risk a lawsuit. That seems to be Joorabchian's position. As I'm sure that the last thing West Ham wants is a commercial lawsuit regarding this matter, they will be interested in settling with Joorabchian. As a result, his MSI agency and another one -- together, they own the economic rights to Tévez and Mascherano -- are likely to pocket a huge share of any transfer fee that West Ham earns on the sale of Tévez, should one occur, as it seems likely it will. Maybe all of it will be theirs. After all, the agreement between the agencies and West Ham has been likened to a loan deal. West Ham's ability to sell Tévez seems no different than Watford's ability to sell Ben Foster, but, nothing in this case is clear-cut, so I wouldn't bet the ranch on that, either. That seems the most likely case, however.
Those who are angry about this affair will have to sustain their vitriol on some other aspect of the deal. I doubt they'll have a problem finding the fuel.
But if he is sold for £20 million or £25 million or even £30 million, I doubt that West Ham will be the sole beneficiary of that windfall. My guess is that the club will have to turn over a significant share of the loot to Kia Joorabchian, the agent whose deal with the club for Tévez and Javier Mascherano caused all the ruckus over the last nine months. As always, I'll state up front that I am not a lawyer, but it seems to me that even if the club unilaterally cancelled Joorabchian's influence over Tévez's fate in order to comply with the Premier League's rules, the club will have to compensate Joorabchian financially or risk a lawsuit. That seems to be Joorabchian's position. As I'm sure that the last thing West Ham wants is a commercial lawsuit regarding this matter, they will be interested in settling with Joorabchian. As a result, his MSI agency and another one -- together, they own the economic rights to Tévez and Mascherano -- are likely to pocket a huge share of any transfer fee that West Ham earns on the sale of Tévez, should one occur, as it seems likely it will. Maybe all of it will be theirs. After all, the agreement between the agencies and West Ham has been likened to a loan deal. West Ham's ability to sell Tévez seems no different than Watford's ability to sell Ben Foster, but, nothing in this case is clear-cut, so I wouldn't bet the ranch on that, either. That seems the most likely case, however.
Those who are angry about this affair will have to sustain their vitriol on some other aspect of the deal. I doubt they'll have a problem finding the fuel.
Give it another try, boys
Yossi Benayoun and West Ham management were scheduled to meet this week, at the midfielder's request. Benayoun and manager Alan Curbishley clashed this spring, especially after Benayoun played for the Israeli national team in March when his health was questionable. Benayoun is expected to ask for a transfer.
I would like Benayoun and Curbishley to overcome their differences. It's not fair. I don't want to get a new favorite player so soon.
(Music to write by: Yo La Tengo, "I Am Not Afraid of You, and I Will Beat Your Ass," and Van Halen, "Diver Down.")
I would like Benayoun and Curbishley to overcome their differences. It's not fair. I don't want to get a new favorite player so soon.
(Music to write by: Yo La Tengo, "I Am Not Afraid of You, and I Will Beat Your Ass," and Van Halen, "Diver Down.")
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Some admirers
My friend Jim, who runs the Sox Machine portal that my baseball blog was part of, briefly, sent me a link to the fan site West Ham Online where they discussed my post on visiting Upton Park (written for Exile in Wrigleyville, but largely replicated at this site). Most seem happy to have another Irons fan on board. Some have to bolster their online reputations by being critical. One noted that "it's football, not soccer, [unprintable]." Well, as those who have read this blog know, I've called it football here, not soccer. That post, however, was for a baseball blog, read primarily by Americans, so I called it soccer. When I was in London, I used the local term. A Chelsea fan that I met there (he's also a baseball fan, and that's how we met) said it was surprising to hear an American say football. As I sit here in the airport in Rome, I can't help but think that, when in London, do as the Londoners.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Nervous, joyous, nervous
If you've never been to Venice, it's difficult to understand just how confusing it is to walk around the floating city. Venezia's narrow streets -- home to pedestrians only -- are mostly straight, actually, but they seem to meet at every angle but the 90 degree ones that a Chicagoan like me is so used to. Walking from our hotel just off St. Mark's Square to Fiddler's Elbow in the Cannaregio section of Venice should have taken about 15 minutes yesterday, but it took me about 45 minutes each way. No bother. It was worth it to walk for 90 minutes to watch Carlos Tévez play for 90 minutes in the 3-1 win over Bolton Wanderers.
Fiddler's Elbow is a corner kick from a main thoroughfare, Strada Nuova. I found it about 3 p.m. -- kickoff was 4 p.m. local time, 3 p.m. in England -- and then went back onto Strada Nuova to grab a bite to eat. I had a slice of pizza and a bottle of water while sitting on a bench in the street, and then I went into Fiddler's Elbow. The Celtic-Rangers game, the great Glasgow derby of the Scottish Premier League, was on the large TV hanging on the front wall. The announcers were speaking Italian. The bar was filled with the sort of Irish kitsch that one would expect from a pub, but I don't recall many specific examples. Fortunately, I took photos. I ordered a Guinness and then walked into the backroom, called The Lookout. The derby of Manchester -- City versus United -- was on the TV in big TV on the back wall in the Lookout. Appropriately for English football, the announcers were speaking English. There were four Man U fans watching. We never did speak, but I was cheering for Man U. With their win and Chelsea's draw Sunday against Arsenal at the Emirates, Man U has clinched the Premiership title -- rendering next Sunday's Man U-West Ham game meaningless for the Red Devils. With Wigan's loss, West Ham can guarantee their safety with a draw, or a Wigan loss or draw against Sheffield United.
I finished the first Guinness just about the time the Manchester derby was finishing, and I walked back to the bar to buy another beer. When I sat back down to watch the preview show -- this was in Italian, as it turned out the West Ham game would be -- it hit me just how huge, or MASSIVE, as they say in England, the game was. I got rather nervous, despite not having anything more challenging to do than walk between my seat and the bar to replenish my beer. I finished the second beer before kickoff -- in other words, in about 10 minutes.
The Man U fans left after their game was over. That was fine with me, as it left me alone in the Lookout and afforded me the chance to take the best seat. I settled in with the third Guinness as the Hammers were coming out to the thunderous applause of their supporters. I had been unaware that Bolton Wanderers manager Sam Allardyce had quit the club till I heard it during the Manchester derby, with the speculation that he wants the job with Manchester City -- a job that is not open at the moment. It seemed to be another good sign for West Ham to me. Bolton had the first few chances of the game, but nothing came of it. I sipped my Guinness and felt my nerves rattle. I rested my chin on hands, and my elbows on the table, and I thought to myself, over and over again, "They've got to score first." Carlos Tévez was tackled on the left edge of the penalty box, and his powerful, curling free kick in the 10th minute slipped in under the crossbar. I screamed with a mix of joy and nervous energy. My loud clapping and yelling had to have seemed strange to the bartender and the handful of patrons out front. No matter. It couldn't be helped. I was completely overcome with the game. At halftime, as I glowed in the 3-0 lead for the Hammers, it struck me how incredible the whole situation was. Six months ago, if you had asked me about English football, I would have said that I root for West Ham because of my friend Phil. I would have quickly added that I rarely, if ever, pay them any attention. Now, here I was, on a beautiful Saturday afternoon in Venezia, sitting in an Irish pub that I found online for the express purpose of watching the 18th place team in the Premiership play its last home fixture of the season.
Tévez was on the receiving end of some fine play by Mark Noble and Luis Boa Morte for the second goal. Noble's breakout pass freed Boa Morte down the left wing, and then he sharply crossed to Tévez, who had an easy time putting it past the keeper. Again, I roared with sheer delight. Tévez ran around to the goal line and put his hands to his ears as if to say, "I can't hear you!" (Or rather, "¡No puedo oírte!") What had been a 60-40 mix of nervousness and joy after the first goal was now about 70% joy. But when Tévez returned the favor of Noble's pass by finding the young midfielder with a cross, and Noble buried it on the volley, my nerves washed away. I yelled louder than I had the first two times combined. I reflexively stood up and clenched my fists in front of myself as I yelled. It was very cathartic.
A late goal for Bolton dirtied up Robert Green's sheet, but just as they had at Wigan last Saturday, West Ham controlled the game throughout and looked nothing like the dispirited team that I saw play Watford back in February. Oftentimes, I could hear the crowd singing, "I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles," and I joined in, although not loud enough for anyone out in the main bar to hear me. I was excited, but still realized that I didn't need to put on a serenade for my indulgent hosts. Once the game was over, I went out to the front bar. I struck up a conversation with Sheffield United fan named Nick. He was fun to chat with. We discussed West Ham's fine and the lack of a points deduction. I said that I knew I was biased, but thought that there was a reasonable basis for the decision. I acknowledged that it could have easily been a lot worse. He, too, acknolwedged his own bias, as Sheffield United are not guaranteed safety yet. It was all amicable, and I enjoyed chatting with him. His club and as many as five others may be contemplating legal action against the FA panel's decision in the case. I supose that is why the nerves are back for me.
Fiddler's Elbow is a corner kick from a main thoroughfare, Strada Nuova. I found it about 3 p.m. -- kickoff was 4 p.m. local time, 3 p.m. in England -- and then went back onto Strada Nuova to grab a bite to eat. I had a slice of pizza and a bottle of water while sitting on a bench in the street, and then I went into Fiddler's Elbow. The Celtic-Rangers game, the great Glasgow derby of the Scottish Premier League, was on the large TV hanging on the front wall. The announcers were speaking Italian. The bar was filled with the sort of Irish kitsch that one would expect from a pub, but I don't recall many specific examples. Fortunately, I took photos. I ordered a Guinness and then walked into the backroom, called The Lookout. The derby of Manchester -- City versus United -- was on the TV in big TV on the back wall in the Lookout. Appropriately for English football, the announcers were speaking English. There were four Man U fans watching. We never did speak, but I was cheering for Man U. With their win and Chelsea's draw Sunday against Arsenal at the Emirates, Man U has clinched the Premiership title -- rendering next Sunday's Man U-West Ham game meaningless for the Red Devils. With Wigan's loss, West Ham can guarantee their safety with a draw, or a Wigan loss or draw against Sheffield United.
I finished the first Guinness just about the time the Manchester derby was finishing, and I walked back to the bar to buy another beer. When I sat back down to watch the preview show -- this was in Italian, as it turned out the West Ham game would be -- it hit me just how huge, or MASSIVE, as they say in England, the game was. I got rather nervous, despite not having anything more challenging to do than walk between my seat and the bar to replenish my beer. I finished the second beer before kickoff -- in other words, in about 10 minutes.
The Man U fans left after their game was over. That was fine with me, as it left me alone in the Lookout and afforded me the chance to take the best seat. I settled in with the third Guinness as the Hammers were coming out to the thunderous applause of their supporters. I had been unaware that Bolton Wanderers manager Sam Allardyce had quit the club till I heard it during the Manchester derby, with the speculation that he wants the job with Manchester City -- a job that is not open at the moment. It seemed to be another good sign for West Ham to me. Bolton had the first few chances of the game, but nothing came of it. I sipped my Guinness and felt my nerves rattle. I rested my chin on hands, and my elbows on the table, and I thought to myself, over and over again, "They've got to score first." Carlos Tévez was tackled on the left edge of the penalty box, and his powerful, curling free kick in the 10th minute slipped in under the crossbar. I screamed with a mix of joy and nervous energy. My loud clapping and yelling had to have seemed strange to the bartender and the handful of patrons out front. No matter. It couldn't be helped. I was completely overcome with the game. At halftime, as I glowed in the 3-0 lead for the Hammers, it struck me how incredible the whole situation was. Six months ago, if you had asked me about English football, I would have said that I root for West Ham because of my friend Phil. I would have quickly added that I rarely, if ever, pay them any attention. Now, here I was, on a beautiful Saturday afternoon in Venezia, sitting in an Irish pub that I found online for the express purpose of watching the 18th place team in the Premiership play its last home fixture of the season.
Tévez was on the receiving end of some fine play by Mark Noble and Luis Boa Morte for the second goal. Noble's breakout pass freed Boa Morte down the left wing, and then he sharply crossed to Tévez, who had an easy time putting it past the keeper. Again, I roared with sheer delight. Tévez ran around to the goal line and put his hands to his ears as if to say, "I can't hear you!" (Or rather, "¡No puedo oírte!") What had been a 60-40 mix of nervousness and joy after the first goal was now about 70% joy. But when Tévez returned the favor of Noble's pass by finding the young midfielder with a cross, and Noble buried it on the volley, my nerves washed away. I yelled louder than I had the first two times combined. I reflexively stood up and clenched my fists in front of myself as I yelled. It was very cathartic.
A late goal for Bolton dirtied up Robert Green's sheet, but just as they had at Wigan last Saturday, West Ham controlled the game throughout and looked nothing like the dispirited team that I saw play Watford back in February. Oftentimes, I could hear the crowd singing, "I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles," and I joined in, although not loud enough for anyone out in the main bar to hear me. I was excited, but still realized that I didn't need to put on a serenade for my indulgent hosts. Once the game was over, I went out to the front bar. I struck up a conversation with Sheffield United fan named Nick. He was fun to chat with. We discussed West Ham's fine and the lack of a points deduction. I said that I knew I was biased, but thought that there was a reasonable basis for the decision. I acknowledged that it could have easily been a lot worse. He, too, acknolwedged his own bias, as Sheffield United are not guaranteed safety yet. It was all amicable, and I enjoyed chatting with him. His club and as many as five others may be contemplating legal action against the FA panel's decision in the case. I supose that is why the nerves are back for me.
The other Carlos
The Marquette Grad put together a very thoughtful travel kit for my trip to Italy. It included all sorts of practical items, such as ibuprofen, a sewing kit (not that I know how to sew) and dental swabs that can be used after a long flight to approximate a quick brushing. There was one piece in the kit that, I must acknowledge, struck me as very odd at first. It was a Traveling Gnome. The little guy is holding a suitcase and comes with a passport that explains his history and tastes. The idea of the Traveling Gnome is to leave him someplace where you had some fun.
I had been thinking about what to name the gnome. I was warming up to the idea of the gnome after I arrived in Italy. Once I had my plans in place to watch the West Ham game at Fiddler's Elbow, I decided that that would be a good place to leave the gnome. TMG had told me that I had to name him, and by Saturday morning, I had settled on it: Carlos, in honor of Tévez. I scratched out the name on the gnome's passport and wrote in "Carlos" before I set off. After watching the game in the back room at Fiddler's Elbow, I walked back into the main bar. Carlos was in my backpack. After another pint or two, I decided that it was time to go. I took Carlos and his passport out. I put the passport on the bar near the Guinness taps, then placed Carlos on top of the passport. I took a couple of pictures -- both of which are very blurry, unfortunately -- and then off I went. I hope both Carloses stay put for a long, long time.
I had been thinking about what to name the gnome. I was warming up to the idea of the gnome after I arrived in Italy. Once I had my plans in place to watch the West Ham game at Fiddler's Elbow, I decided that that would be a good place to leave the gnome. TMG had told me that I had to name him, and by Saturday morning, I had settled on it: Carlos, in honor of Tévez. I scratched out the name on the gnome's passport and wrote in "Carlos" before I set off. After watching the game in the back room at Fiddler's Elbow, I walked back into the main bar. Carlos was in my backpack. After another pint or two, I decided that it was time to go. I took Carlos and his passport out. I put the passport on the bar near the Guinness taps, then placed Carlos on top of the passport. I took a couple of pictures -- both of which are very blurry, unfortunately -- and then off I went. I hope both Carloses stay put for a long, long time.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Excitement builds
I have been in Italy all week on a trip with my family. Had I been at home, I would have had more to say about the decision in the Tévez-Mascherano affair. Other clubs threatened with relegation are threatening to take legal action to try to force the FA to hit West Ham with a points deduction. Sheffield United and Wigan Athletic have been the most vocal. One letter writer to the Times suggested that Premier League clubs have agreed to take all disputes with the FA to arbitration rather than civil court, on threat of expulsion from the Prermiership if they do otherwise. So perhaps an arbitrator will hear the matter at some point.
What I think it boils down to is that ownership and management changed. Once in place, the new guard revealed the deceit of the old guard. The new guard cooperated fully with the FA's investigation into the matter. The new guard agreed to plead guilty to the charges and accepted a hefty fine, the largest in the FA's history, at least in nominal dollars. (I haven't read any suggestions that there were previous fines that would exceed West Ham's £5.5 million ($11 million) fine, but then, maybe a club was fined £100 in 1879 and that is more in today's pounds. I'm being somewhat facetious, really.) I don't believe that the deterrent effect will be lightened by this only-money penalty, because the strange set of circumstances in this case aren't likely to come up very often, if at all again.
In a few hours, I will be heading to the oldest Irish pub in Venice, Fiddler's Elbow, to watch West Ham host Bolton Wanderers. Being in a football-mad country like Italy this week has made me that much more excited about the game; not that the fevered surge by the Irons to the end of a tumultuous season wasn't enough to make me excited about this massive game. On Monday, our tour guide at the Vatican, Stéfano, made some football-related quips. Of the three guides that we have had so far, Stéfano is my favorite, not just because of the football jokes but they didn't hurt. The man from the tour company, Franco, mentioned the AC Milan-Manchester United game on Wednesday, saying that he was planning on watching the second leg of that Champions League semifinal tie from San Siro. He noted that Man U was ahead, and added in his Italian-accented English, "Because they are lucky." Unfortunately, Franco told us the wrong start time, so it was 24 minutes in and 1-0 AC Milan when I tuned in. Man U's play, however, made Franco seem correct in his bravado.
Much more interesting was watching the second leg of the Liverpool-Chelsea semifinal tie from Anfield. It was a tremendous 120 minutes but I have to say that the penalty kicks were a let-down. I wanted Liverpool to win, because a good friend is a Liverpool fan, and I don't particularly care for Chelsea anyway, but the penalty kicks did not live up to the brilliance of the play prior to them. Chelsea keeper Petr Cech didn't come close to stopping any of the shots, so there was little drama as Liverpool easily won on the seventh shot, 4 to 2.
When I return to Chicago, I'll post some of the many football-related photographs that I have snapped here in Italy. (Can I still use "snapped" even though I am using a digital camera? Are the pictures still snapshots?) I have seen the signs for the football stadiums in a few of the cities that we have been in, but I have not had the chance to see one of the grounds. As in London (or Londra, as Italians call it), the cities of Italy are filled with stands and shops selling club and national team football gear, particularly jerseys and scarves. I bought two scarves for Reggina, the Serie A side in my father's home region of Calabria, at a stand located less than the length of a pitch from the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I will keep one and give the other one to the Globe to hang on their wall. In Florence, I was looking through some national side shirts at a stand while my parents were in a shop. I noticed a Materazzi shirt, a Totti, and then a bunch of Zidane shirts, probably a dozen of them. By this time, I had been looking long enough that the woman running the stand poked her head around the corner and asked me what I was looking for. I said, "I guess you don't sell many Zidane shirts, do you?" She laughed and shook her head.
What I think it boils down to is that ownership and management changed. Once in place, the new guard revealed the deceit of the old guard. The new guard cooperated fully with the FA's investigation into the matter. The new guard agreed to plead guilty to the charges and accepted a hefty fine, the largest in the FA's history, at least in nominal dollars. (I haven't read any suggestions that there were previous fines that would exceed West Ham's £5.5 million ($11 million) fine, but then, maybe a club was fined £100 in 1879 and that is more in today's pounds. I'm being somewhat facetious, really.) I don't believe that the deterrent effect will be lightened by this only-money penalty, because the strange set of circumstances in this case aren't likely to come up very often, if at all again.
In a few hours, I will be heading to the oldest Irish pub in Venice, Fiddler's Elbow, to watch West Ham host Bolton Wanderers. Being in a football-mad country like Italy this week has made me that much more excited about the game; not that the fevered surge by the Irons to the end of a tumultuous season wasn't enough to make me excited about this massive game. On Monday, our tour guide at the Vatican, Stéfano, made some football-related quips. Of the three guides that we have had so far, Stéfano is my favorite, not just because of the football jokes but they didn't hurt. The man from the tour company, Franco, mentioned the AC Milan-Manchester United game on Wednesday, saying that he was planning on watching the second leg of that Champions League semifinal tie from San Siro. He noted that Man U was ahead, and added in his Italian-accented English, "Because they are lucky." Unfortunately, Franco told us the wrong start time, so it was 24 minutes in and 1-0 AC Milan when I tuned in. Man U's play, however, made Franco seem correct in his bravado.
Much more interesting was watching the second leg of the Liverpool-Chelsea semifinal tie from Anfield. It was a tremendous 120 minutes but I have to say that the penalty kicks were a let-down. I wanted Liverpool to win, because a good friend is a Liverpool fan, and I don't particularly care for Chelsea anyway, but the penalty kicks did not live up to the brilliance of the play prior to them. Chelsea keeper Petr Cech didn't come close to stopping any of the shots, so there was little drama as Liverpool easily won on the seventh shot, 4 to 2.
When I return to Chicago, I'll post some of the many football-related photographs that I have snapped here in Italy. (Can I still use "snapped" even though I am using a digital camera? Are the pictures still snapshots?) I have seen the signs for the football stadiums in a few of the cities that we have been in, but I have not had the chance to see one of the grounds. As in London (or Londra, as Italians call it), the cities of Italy are filled with stands and shops selling club and national team football gear, particularly jerseys and scarves. I bought two scarves for Reggina, the Serie A side in my father's home region of Calabria, at a stand located less than the length of a pitch from the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I will keep one and give the other one to the Globe to hang on their wall. In Florence, I was looking through some national side shirts at a stand while my parents were in a shop. I noticed a Materazzi shirt, a Totti, and then a bunch of Zidane shirts, probably a dozen of them. By this time, I had been looking long enough that the woman running the stand poked her head around the corner and asked me what I was looking for. I said, "I guess you don't sell many Zidane shirts, do you?" She laughed and shook her head.
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