‘Maybe there is more to life than playing, really, really, really, good football’
Tuesday, 15 April 08, 03:59 PM
There is only one place to start today – no not United being champions elect or anything to do with Chelsea but instead I’ll start with this oddly mesmerising image of the ‘Wengerbus’. Truly
magnificent and the full glory is here. I hate
Zoolander but for giving us this, the $50 million budget was worth it.
Anyway, back to matters sporting, and where to really start today… Avram Grant hanging on by a thread, Rafa Benitez supposedly heading off in the summer or Ronaldo being worth more than £100 million according to Carlos ‘rejected Bond bad guy’ Queiroz. In the crescendo that is the end of the season we have talks over who’s going where, how much money will be spent in the process and all of this goes on for the next three months.
In many papers’ minds, and with most sane individuals, the title race is over after Chelsea’s abject display yesterday which didn’t merit three points. All that’s left now is mathematical confirmation and a few commemorative pull outs from the more excitable tabloids. Hats off to Steve Bruce (good god that’s a difficult few words to write) for making some telling substitutions and bigger, novelty-size hats off to Chris Kirkland for keeping Chelsea at bay whenever they threatened… he didn’t even get injured in the process, what a guy.
As myself and Mark alluded to in last week’s podcast, were Chelsea to actually win the league it would remain one of life’s biggest mysteries for generations to come. Brutal football, complete boardroom turmoil and to be fair to Grant, some unfortunate injuries to key players. How could they do it?
What will be left after their failure in the league is the feeling that Mourinho’s Chelsea would’ve taken this title race by the scruff of the neck and won it; and while the Portugeezer’s demeanour in his latter days as Chelsea boss suggests that might not automatically be true, it will ring of truth in enough ears to send Grant packing come late May.
I’d suspect even a Champions League win would be ‘rewarded’ with a promotion upstairs within the club, a prospect that Grant wouldn’t fight either. So as Chelsea search for a new manager, the turmoil at Anfield will continue and I honestly think Benitez will go this summer to Real Madrid, Barcelona or possibly Inter Milan. I still believe his first choice is to stay at Liverpool but why should he at this stage? Another season of league mediocrity, which is the most likely outcome of him staying next year anyway, would only see his reputation damaged.
Anyway, back to matters sporting, and where to really start today… Avram Grant hanging on by a thread, Rafa Benitez supposedly heading off in the summer or Ronaldo being worth more than £100 million according to Carlos ‘rejected Bond bad guy’ Queiroz. In the crescendo that is the end of the season we have talks over who’s going where, how much money will be spent in the process and all of this goes on for the next three months.
In many papers’ minds, and with most sane individuals, the title race is over after Chelsea’s abject display yesterday which didn’t merit three points. All that’s left now is mathematical confirmation and a few commemorative pull outs from the more excitable tabloids. Hats off to Steve Bruce (good god that’s a difficult few words to write) for making some telling substitutions and bigger, novelty-size hats off to Chris Kirkland for keeping Chelsea at bay whenever they threatened… he didn’t even get injured in the process, what a guy.
As myself and Mark alluded to in last week’s podcast, were Chelsea to actually win the league it would remain one of life’s biggest mysteries for generations to come. Brutal football, complete boardroom turmoil and to be fair to Grant, some unfortunate injuries to key players. How could they do it?
What will be left after their failure in the league is the feeling that Mourinho’s Chelsea would’ve taken this title race by the scruff of the neck and won it; and while the Portugeezer’s demeanour in his latter days as Chelsea boss suggests that might not automatically be true, it will ring of truth in enough ears to send Grant packing come late May.
I’d suspect even a Champions League win would be ‘rewarded’ with a promotion upstairs within the club, a prospect that Grant wouldn’t fight either. So as Chelsea search for a new manager, the turmoil at Anfield will continue and I honestly think Benitez will go this summer to Real Madrid, Barcelona or possibly Inter Milan. I still believe his first choice is to stay at Liverpool but why should he at this stage? Another season of league mediocrity, which is the most likely outcome of him staying next year anyway, would only see his reputation damaged.
Right now, he has a huge profile around Europe and a very decent managerial record. The funny thing is that only three months ago it was the fans who wanted him out, but the truth of football
is that decisions are always made in the boardroom rather than the terraces, no matter how many protests there are.
Elsewhere, Quieroz’s claims over Ronaldo’s worth are correct – the guy is so valuable to the club through the on the pitch performances and off the pitch revenue, they could never sell him. With 37 goals this year, only he could force a move and why would he at this stage? It may be that a few years down the line we’re looking at a Ronaldinho situation of a guy who has fallen out of love with the club but if that doesn’t happen, it’s hard to see United losing a stranglehold on the Premier League and possibly Europe.
Considering how flaky the rest of the big four have been of late, whether on the pitch or off, the happy house that is Old Trafford will continue to dominate and Fergie may well laugh into that glass of fine Bordeaux. Even with the mediocre performances of late that Mark mentioned yesterday, they’re still untouchable. Ah feck it, let's look at the Wengerbus again.
Elsewhere, Quieroz’s claims over Ronaldo’s worth are correct – the guy is so valuable to the club through the on the pitch performances and off the pitch revenue, they could never sell him. With 37 goals this year, only he could force a move and why would he at this stage? It may be that a few years down the line we’re looking at a Ronaldinho situation of a guy who has fallen out of love with the club but if that doesn’t happen, it’s hard to see United losing a stranglehold on the Premier League and possibly Europe.
Considering how flaky the rest of the big four have been of late, whether on the pitch or off, the happy house that is Old Trafford will continue to dominate and Fergie may well laugh into that glass of fine Bordeaux. Even with the mediocre performances of late that Mark mentioned yesterday, they’re still untouchable. Ah feck it, let's look at the Wengerbus again.
JJ
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Tis the season to be a punter
Tuesday, 18 December 07, 04:03 PM
There are few times in life when you can feel superior to professional footballers. Okay, intelligence-wise most of us can feel like three-time Mastermind champions when we compare ourselves to
doornails like Lee Bowyer or David Beckham. Morally too, some of us will claim sainthood when
compared to John Terry or any other of the spit roast brigade (should I hyphen ‘spit roast’?). But, here at Okeydokefootball we operate in a moral vacuum.
We may laugh at John Terry pissing in a cup at Shaun Wright Philips’ birthday party,
but deep down we know that overall, the night must’ve still been a quality affair; besides for Ian
Wright being there obviously.
As for intelligence, well for those of you who regularly listen to the podcast, you’ll be aware of the fact that week-in week-out we kill copious amounts of brain cells with cheap booze (so much so
I don’t even know if ‘spit roast’ should have a hyphen, a sad day for journalism). So anyway, back to my original point about times that can leave you feeling like you’re a little bit better off
than those well paid men of the Premier League and Christmas is one of those moments.
Four games over ten days, no Christmas dinner, not a bit of mulled wine, not a drop of decent stout, or even a nice nip of whiskey. While those of us in the great wide world are gorging on food,
booze, Scrooged and a ridiculous amount of sport, those across the water have to train and travel to wonderful places like Wigan, Middlesbrough and Birmingham to play mud-sodden games. Further down
the leagues people actually have to spend St Stephen’s Day in Scunthorpe or Luton. Scunthorpe… horrific, truly horrific.
At this time of the year, more than any other, we can feel like an audience at the Coliseum. Bring out the fools to fight for our meagre entertainment! Insert an evil laugh, chomp on a leg of turkey and you could practically feel like you’re watching Spartacus
play for Man United.
The TV schedule over the festive season sees Sky and Setanta showing possible hum-dingers like Arsenal v Spurs, Pool v Pompey, Man United v Everton, Arsenal v Everton, Villa v Spurs, City v
Blackburn, City v Pool, West Ham v Reading and Spanish football this weekend to boot. Not a grand slam Sunday in sight (thank god), but plenty of good games that mean you don’t have to talk to your
family that much and have an alternative to Only Fools and Horses repeats (we all love them but jaysus, every night during the festive season is a bit much).
It all kicks off tonight as well with Arsenal and Blackburn squaring up for what could prove to be an excellent League Cup quarter final. Arsenal’s youth versus a Mark Hughes side that have been
absolutely piss poor of late. City face Spurs too with Sven continuing his top four methods by dropping a raft of first-teamers.
Then tomorrow we have Xabi Alonso returning to the Liverpool first team down at Stamford Bridge, where the Scousers have never had much luck. I’ll go for Blackburn and Chelsea to go through and
Spurs to scrape it into the semi finals as well. Certainly worth a bet so I’m heading to the bookies in a while. Of course I’ll win nothing but that won’t stop me throwing away more cash in the
next two weeks. Rejoice and feel no sympathy for the players who entertain and infuriate us.
Oh and let’s not have that argument over whether or not there should be a Christmas break; or hear anyone bring it up as another reason why England are a horrible international side. The England
team already ruin international tournaments whenever they qualify, for god sake leave Christmas to us, the poor punter.
JJ
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Compare and Contrast… and stop Andy Gray
Monday, 10 December 07, 01:09 PM
I begin the week confused. Liverpool and Arsenal lose. Peter Crouch playing the ‘Arjen Robben’ role. Someone actually voiced our concerns about John Terry being untouchable. Then to add more oddities to my weekend I went to see Southland Tales yesterday – a two and half hour journey through pointlessness that is bizarrely enjoyable.
We’re all about random comparisons at Okeydokefootball so here’s mine for today. Richard Kelly – the director of Southland Tales – is the Rafa Benitez of the movie world. A man with a thousand and one ideas; a man convinced his theories on structure are superior to others and a man who can point to previous achievements if anyone questions his motives. For Donnie Darko (his previous movie) read two Spanish titles and the Champions League.
Is watching a Benitez line up fall to a humdrum Reading side ‘bizarrely enjoyable’ too? Well kinda. Sipping a Guinness watching the oddness of the last twenty minutes on Saturday, I had to chuckle at how sure Benitez was that he was in the right by taking off Steven Gerrard. He looked absolutely positive that they could get nothing from the game so he stuck to his guns; the fat controller certain the train was coming on time when everyone else had left the platform.
Kelly meanwhile decided that no matter how much people complained about the incoherence of his movie when it was first shown in Cannes 18 months ago, that he would stick to dialogue about the ‘fourth dimension’ and neo-Marxists. It doesn’t make sense, it confuses everyone involved yet he is certain this is the only way forward. Sound familiar?
One key difference in the two men is getting a good performance out of an average talent. Southland Tales features a sterling turn from Sean William Scott; he of Dude Where’s My Car infamy. Reading versus Liverpool featured a typically horrendous showing from Momo Sissoko. The Mali international looks to have given up the ghost and barely appeared as if he was trying on Saturday, though when he did, predictably, he gave the ball to the nearest Reading player.
Watching Southland Tales, much like being a Liverpool supporter, is an exercise in futility. You give over a good portion of time for a mish-mash of very occasional brilliance and pure nonsense; all with very little reward at the end.
If Alex Ferguson were a director I’d say it would be James Cameron, a stern man who has had plenty of popular success over the years and who is begrudgingly respected by his peers. Arsene Wenger is more Woody Allen. A series of flops (Match Point/Champions League final) might stop another man but he keeps going determined there’s still an audience for his brand of entertainment (The Jade Scorpion/this season until yesterday). Avram Grant is Brett Ratner without a doubt, a friend to the rich and powerful drafted in whenever real talent has been forced out. He can do a hack job that will please many but the purists still know he’s not got the talent to do any great work of his own.
I suppose I could go through the entire league but that would only infuriate after a while and my already stretched comparisons would get worse as I went down the table. Though… Gary Megson as master of misery Ken Loach? Okay, I’ll stop.
So, back to the football and this weekend has set up next Sunday’s clashes of the big four nicely. Should Liverpool win (they won’t though) and Chelsea get at least a draw (no idea what will happen there) next week then everything will be tighter than a Scotsman on holiday. Spurs’ win on Sunday will, you’d suspect, start their rise up the table in earnest while Bolton look like they might start to get the results that will keep them boring everyone in the Premier League for at least one more season.
Blackburn’s malaise continued resulting in Morten Gamst Pedersen being fired from my Fantasy League team, something which I’m sure crushed the spirit of the horribly out of form boy band member. The weekend ended however on a disgraceful note that came in the Sky studio rather than on the field.
Andy Gray must be stopped. Not only did he defend John Terry for his role in getting Liam Miller sent off but his attitude to diving was absolutely shocking. He has been accused of having a bias towards Man United before – and he is as in love with Ronaldo as his friend Alex Ferguson – but defending the Portuguese player’s dive against Derby was simply appalling.
He championed Ronaldo’s right to go over like a sack of Nike-endorsed spuds when a Derby player put out a leg in front of him. Never mind that Ronaldo actually kicked the defender instead of the other way round before contorting his body like the seasoned diver he is to be certain of winning the penalty. The boy can do no wrong in Gray’s eyes. It’s the same story whenever he discusses Gerrard, Terry or Rooney too.
Any other day I might accept this as being a ‘striker’s view’ were it not for Gray’s reading of Newcastle’s penalty against Birmingham all of three minutes later. He claimed that when Liam Ridgewell scythed down Oba Martins that it was just a trailing leg left in that Martins’ took advantage of and it shouldn't have been given. Am I missing something? How does this differ from Ronaldo? Martins is in the wrong while Ronaldo is being clever apparently.
The answer is typical of Gray and the ‘old boys’ network that rules Sky and their bumbling, smug coverage. Gray is mates with Alex Ferguson; Gray is mates with Alex McLeish. He is quite simply a mouth for hire, an unprincipled yes man and each week Sky viewers are being conned by his supposedly expert views. Gray says whatever suits Sky’s star-hungry, non-controversial coverage as well as his friends’ interests.
He’s a member of our ‘hate’ section and you can listen to the reasons why about twenty minutes in here. Though I suspect many of you won’t need much convincing. But let’s not end on that; let’s end on this from Sully Muntari.
Later – JJ
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Not lovin it
Wednesday, 05 December 07, 04:06 PM
Why is that even with all their money they just can’t get it right eh? I mean it can’t be that hard, not when it’s a global brand who espouse their world domination through relentless marketing.
There has to be research done, there has to be questions asked, there must be an inquiry I say.
Why is it, that McDonald’s has without doubt the worst ketchup on the planet?
I ate there recently after pints with Mark and it was my first visit in some time (not that I’m not a junk food eater but I’m normally a kebab man), and it was dirt. A salty mess of redness that has never been within 50 yards of a tomato.
In today’s blog I was going to go on a rant about the Premier League trying to fool us all into thinking they have a great product when in fact they only have more exposure and bigger stars than any other league. But then I realised that if McDonald’s have been getting away with their red gunk for decades, that it’s just the way of a global brand to make people believe they’re getting the best for their money.
Forget the ketchup, McDonalds say. We’ve got the Big Mac. Forget the rumours of corruption the Premier League tells us. We’ve got Grand Slam Sunday. Two completely different matters but we (and by ‘we’ I mean football-gorging, can drinking, fast food eating men like those at the OkeydokeFootball ranch) swallow both stories up all the time and accept our lot. Crap ketchup and Boro v Bolton. It’s just the life we’ve chosen.
I feel Mark’s attempt to repel from all this evil (the Premier League, not McDonald’s) yesterday was noble; yes we can all get a little sick of the game but we can’t really step away from it. Much like we should get in a cab after a belly full of pints but instead feel the need to top off that belly with a burger and chips; it’s in our nature. As Mark realised by the end of his rant, there is no escaping it.
However, despite this addiction, it’s never been a problem to do a Grange Hill on it and ‘Just Say No’ to watching Celtic games. Last night’s away day at Milan had little to appeal about it. An AC side virtually through, a Celtic side playing for a draw; even the most blinkered of Hoops fans – with their Celtic cross tattoos on their arms and ironed tracksuit bottoms for court – must have known this would be a stinker.
At 93-minutes I flicked over and saw that despite being one-nil down their fans were celebrating after Shaktar’s surprising home defeat to a fairly average Benfica side. Talk about feeling your decision was justified.
Of more interest tonight will be Arsenal’s visit to Newcastle which has plenty of decent subplots. With Fat Sam struggling to revive his career in the land of brown ale and shirtless supporters, he needs a decent result and who comes to town but a team who can feel justified in claiming to be the best in Europe at present. However, Arsenal are managed by a man whose sides often came up short against Allardyce’s former team Bolton. The Bolton team who played a system that Fat Sam is determined to inflict (and yes inflict is the right word here) on Newcastle.
The Gunners are also a side that still haven’t got more than a point when they travelled north of the midlands this season having drawn at Blackburn and Liverpool. And let’s not forget the injuries to Flamini, Fabregas and Hleb, with the useful Abou Diaby also out; indeed those first three have proven to be match-winners for them on a good few occasions this year already.
It’d be a huge upset if Newcastle do manage to pinch even a point... but feck it anyway, I’ll go for one-all, with at least one side finishing with ten men. Though, at this point I’d like to publicly denounce Fat Sam for not signing Patrick Berger during the summer and giving me a decent sign off joke for this blog.
Fat bastard…
Why is it, that McDonald’s has without doubt the worst ketchup on the planet?
I ate there recently after pints with Mark and it was my first visit in some time (not that I’m not a junk food eater but I’m normally a kebab man), and it was dirt. A salty mess of redness that has never been within 50 yards of a tomato.
In today’s blog I was going to go on a rant about the Premier League trying to fool us all into thinking they have a great product when in fact they only have more exposure and bigger stars than any other league. But then I realised that if McDonald’s have been getting away with their red gunk for decades, that it’s just the way of a global brand to make people believe they’re getting the best for their money.
Forget the ketchup, McDonalds say. We’ve got the Big Mac. Forget the rumours of corruption the Premier League tells us. We’ve got Grand Slam Sunday. Two completely different matters but we (and by ‘we’ I mean football-gorging, can drinking, fast food eating men like those at the OkeydokeFootball ranch) swallow both stories up all the time and accept our lot. Crap ketchup and Boro v Bolton. It’s just the life we’ve chosen.
I feel Mark’s attempt to repel from all this evil (the Premier League, not McDonald’s) yesterday was noble; yes we can all get a little sick of the game but we can’t really step away from it. Much like we should get in a cab after a belly full of pints but instead feel the need to top off that belly with a burger and chips; it’s in our nature. As Mark realised by the end of his rant, there is no escaping it.
However, despite this addiction, it’s never been a problem to do a Grange Hill on it and ‘Just Say No’ to watching Celtic games. Last night’s away day at Milan had little to appeal about it. An AC side virtually through, a Celtic side playing for a draw; even the most blinkered of Hoops fans – with their Celtic cross tattoos on their arms and ironed tracksuit bottoms for court – must have known this would be a stinker.
At 93-minutes I flicked over and saw that despite being one-nil down their fans were celebrating after Shaktar’s surprising home defeat to a fairly average Benfica side. Talk about feeling your decision was justified.
Of more interest tonight will be Arsenal’s visit to Newcastle which has plenty of decent subplots. With Fat Sam struggling to revive his career in the land of brown ale and shirtless supporters, he needs a decent result and who comes to town but a team who can feel justified in claiming to be the best in Europe at present. However, Arsenal are managed by a man whose sides often came up short against Allardyce’s former team Bolton. The Bolton team who played a system that Fat Sam is determined to inflict (and yes inflict is the right word here) on Newcastle.
The Gunners are also a side that still haven’t got more than a point when they travelled north of the midlands this season having drawn at Blackburn and Liverpool. And let’s not forget the injuries to Flamini, Fabregas and Hleb, with the useful Abou Diaby also out; indeed those first three have proven to be match-winners for them on a good few occasions this year already.
It’d be a huge upset if Newcastle do manage to pinch even a point... but feck it anyway, I’ll go for one-all, with at least one side finishing with ten men. Though, at this point I’d like to publicly denounce Fat Sam for not signing Patrick Berger during the summer and giving me a decent sign off joke for this blog.
Fat bastard…
Later, JJ
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Big Four and a Big Draw
Tuesday, 04 December 07, 10:00 AM
So as we draw closer to the supposed crunch time of Christmas in the Premier League (yup,
after four months I’ll finally call it that) the basic fact of the matter is that the big four have done it again. There, like the most obvious thing in the world, they once again take up the top
four spaces in the division. Deep down we all knew it would happen but it’s sort of soul destroying that it’s actually come to pass with such sickening inevitability.
Okay Sven City did a decent job holding out for a while, but their less than adequate away form finally cost them a place in the Champions League positions. It happened to Portsmouth last year around this time, and of course the year before it didn’t happen to Spurs until the last day. But it did happen.
The top four however have always been a curious animal... although when exactly the term became common is up for debate. 2003? 2004? Maybe, but I’m not sure it was until after Istanbul that Liverpool could even conceive of being in any elite group in this league. Chelsea certainly weren’t in there until the stubbly Russian mute took over.
Each year one of their number suffer from tales of their demise; there was Man United being predicted for fifth at last season’s outset and Arsenal were seen by many commentators (okay, idiots like us at ODF) as only a top six side at the start of this season. Liverpool also had some doom merchants at the outset of the 07/08 campaign who predicted pain and plenty of it.
But despite millions paid out by other sides, there they sit. What kind of pain can a club really suffer when it still canters to a slot in the league that guarantees them millions to spend on the best players (and Dirk Kuyt) every summer?
While it’s inevitable in the short term I still hope Spurs sort themselves out, Everton (though I’ll never get sick of that ‘Two Nights in August’ joke) get some decent cash and Man City and Pompey (and to a lesser extent Blackburn and Villa) continue their upward trajectory to challenge the hegemony. I know that sentence sounds like something you should say at the start of a new season rather than approaching the midway point but the ease with which these four have come to this position shows the disgraceful lack of real challengers out there.
Liverpool and especially Chelsea have even had to survive off-field drama and on-field tedium to mount possibly serious title challenges too. Here’s hoping Man City stick with the big boys for a little while longer to keep them honest, but is this it for the next 20 years ala Scotland or what? Well, I suppose a big four is better than a big two at least.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anyway, aside from that, the draw for Euro 2008 was an absolute cracker and fair play to Uefa suits for hiring Swiss actress Melanie Winiger (above with eh... two blokes I don't care about) to host the gig as her picture made for far nicer images in the Monday papers than viewing Michel Platini’s hobo-chic look once again.
The bizarre system whereby group opponents can now meet in the semi finals aside, there’s already some great games to put in the diary… that wonderfully England-free diary. Germany can make some annexing gags towards the Poles on June 8th while Holland face Italy the night after. Then the next day it’s Spain and Russia followed the day after by the Czechs against Portugal and that’s only the start of things.
Okay, so Greece will play terrible stuff and the hosts will both lack quality but this is three weeks of generally quality football. Get the cans; get the takeaway leaflets; phone off the hook… life as it is meant to be lived.
JJ,
Okay Sven City did a decent job holding out for a while, but their less than adequate away form finally cost them a place in the Champions League positions. It happened to Portsmouth last year around this time, and of course the year before it didn’t happen to Spurs until the last day. But it did happen.
The top four however have always been a curious animal... although when exactly the term became common is up for debate. 2003? 2004? Maybe, but I’m not sure it was until after Istanbul that Liverpool could even conceive of being in any elite group in this league. Chelsea certainly weren’t in there until the stubbly Russian mute took over.
Each year one of their number suffer from tales of their demise; there was Man United being predicted for fifth at last season’s outset and Arsenal were seen by many commentators (okay, idiots like us at ODF) as only a top six side at the start of this season. Liverpool also had some doom merchants at the outset of the 07/08 campaign who predicted pain and plenty of it.
But despite millions paid out by other sides, there they sit. What kind of pain can a club really suffer when it still canters to a slot in the league that guarantees them millions to spend on the best players (and Dirk Kuyt) every summer?
While it’s inevitable in the short term I still hope Spurs sort themselves out, Everton (though I’ll never get sick of that ‘Two Nights in August’ joke) get some decent cash and Man City and Pompey (and to a lesser extent Blackburn and Villa) continue their upward trajectory to challenge the hegemony. I know that sentence sounds like something you should say at the start of a new season rather than approaching the midway point but the ease with which these four have come to this position shows the disgraceful lack of real challengers out there.
Liverpool and especially Chelsea have even had to survive off-field drama and on-field tedium to mount possibly serious title challenges too. Here’s hoping Man City stick with the big boys for a little while longer to keep them honest, but is this it for the next 20 years ala Scotland or what? Well, I suppose a big four is better than a big two at least.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anyway, aside from that, the draw for Euro 2008 was an absolute cracker and fair play to Uefa suits for hiring Swiss actress Melanie Winiger (above with eh... two blokes I don't care about) to host the gig as her picture made for far nicer images in the Monday papers than viewing Michel Platini’s hobo-chic look once again.
The bizarre system whereby group opponents can now meet in the semi finals aside, there’s already some great games to put in the diary… that wonderfully England-free diary. Germany can make some annexing gags towards the Poles on June 8th while Holland face Italy the night after. Then the next day it’s Spain and Russia followed the day after by the Czechs against Portugal and that’s only the start of things.
Okay, so Greece will play terrible stuff and the hosts will both lack quality but this is three weeks of generally quality football. Get the cans; get the takeaway leaflets; phone off the hook… life as it is meant to be lived.
JJ,
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On Dodgy Tattoos and Weekend Preview