… and something about this dog
It’s always a treat to hear from a member of the Interestment Family, and today it’s the turn of Steve – a funny man with a passion for football. He had this to say about all of the weekend’s action…
Wow, wasn’t it brilliant? The drama! The tension! The near balletic poetry of it all! Could this one be the best ever? Well it was a pretty good, that Strictly Come Dancing line up, but it’s early days yet, and Alesha Dixon is already splitting opinion right down the middle. But enough of the glitzy talk about swishy skirts, let’s focus on the footie. There sure was a lot of maths to get through at Old Trafford over the weekend. Man United won 4-3, that’s an amazing seven goals, with the seventh coming in the sixth minute of injury time, but Mark Hughes thought there should only have been four minutes, while Alex Ferguson thought they should’ve won 6-0. But, but, there were seven goals, is anyone else totally confused?
Horrible little oik Craig Bellamy sure was, his number rage causing him to give a fan who ran onto the pitch a good hard five fingers (well four fingers and a big podgy, sausage like thumb) across the face to teach him a thing or two about counting. There, that showed him. That showed him good. Craig Bellamy can count to five, deal with it, sucker.
Things got physical at Villa Park too, as Martin O’Neill squared up to one of his players, after a row over the last Rolo got ugly:
“There was no wrestling, that was a figment of the onlookers’ imagination.”
Too true, everyone knows that wrestling is pre-planned, and that the only dignified way to settle a Rolo row is with a good old fashioned Thumb War. One, two, three, four…..
Over at Stamford Bridge, everyone’s favourite Churchill the dog lookalike, Harry Redknapp, watched his Spurs side get a right whooping and lose two more players to injury before explaining:
“You can’t go out and play without doing hamstrings, groins or calves.”
Maybe you should stick to the more traditional heads, shoulders, knees and toes before kick off ‘Arry? You’ve just been asking for trouble haven’t you?
And finally, having grown tired of the diamond and Christmas tree formations, Gianfranco Zola shares his new masterstroke:
“I normally like to play with one striker and two small ones behind him.”
He calls it Il Gallo e le Palle, which roughly translates as The Cock and Balls.
Upside down frown flips over again…
It’s always brilliant to hear from a member of the growing Interestment family, and today it’s the turn of Steve – a clever man with a sharp wit. For the next few weeks, he’s going to be looking at the ridiculous soap opera side of football. He had this to say about the weekend’s action…
Premiership football is back and it’s better than ever! Well, aside from the loss of the World’s greasiest…I mean greatest footballer of course. We’re only one game into the new season, but already the soap opera is in full swing. Here’s what we have so far:
Liverpool lose to Spurs and Rafa Benitez is LIVID. He gets so cross, the anger surges through his taut, bulbous body, before he finally erupts and calls a linesman… “too young”. Ouch. Clearly rusty after a summer break, Rafa may need to sharpen up his insults before he resumes his feud/ handbags/ smokescreen for secret love affair with Alex Ferguson. Half an hour with the Carragher family should do the trick.
Arsene Wenger‘s Arsenal side (who are also too young apparently) pulverise Everton 6-1. As in six goals to just one goal. Essentially 5-0. Or 12-2. Yep, that’s quite the thrashing. David Moyes is now officially the most miserable looking human being on the planet, with his weeping face buried into his moistening shovel-hands.
There are more tears in Hull as Phil Brown’s goatie beard goes missing. Why did you do it Phil? Why? The Tango Devil look was AWESOME!
And finally, new Chelsea boss Carlo Ancellotti explains Didier Drogba’s niggling injury conundrums: “I think last season he had a problem with his body”. Doctors, consider yourselves usurped. The man’s a genius.
Prepare the champagne!
It’s never anything less than a total and utter joy to hear from a member of the growing Interestment family, and today we welcome back Eliot – a magnificent football writer with a busy, whirring mind. He had this to say about the looming Premier League season…
The new season. All that sweat and hard labour for busy footballers who really don’t have the time for it all. The cost to supporters of nine months travel up and down the country. All those Saturday night television hours that could be put to better use with shows such as Hole in the Wall. They might as well call the whole thing off – we here at Interestment know how it will finish anyway.
League Table 2010 (in 10 words)
The best team last year will have learnt from mistakes.
Arshavin Arshavin Arshavin Arshavin. You get the idea with that.
3. Manchester United
16 single-goal wins last season. 18 goals lost to Real.
Mourinho only Premiership winner on debut. Ancelotti not as special.
Moyes’s twelve month audition for the Utd job. Added incentive.
6. Manchester City
How many of the newbies would start for Manchester United?
7. Aston Villa
Captain retired. Vice-captain gone too. Best chance in the cups.
8. Tottenham Hostpur
Huntelaar, Young, Vieira all targeted. Sheffield United players arrived instead.
Thin squad may suffer from a lengthy Europa League run.
10. Blackburn Rovers
1.3 point average under Allardyce in 08/09. Enough for mid-table.
11. Bolton Wanderers
If Elmander settles, Bolton’s frontmen will ensure another decent season.
12. West Ham United
Defend well unlike many teams around them. Clarke’s influence critical.
Darren Bent scores goals wherever he goes. Money well spent.
Strong Cup showings last season against Premiership opposition bodes well.
15. Birmingham City
Will benefit from one of the weakest Premier Leagues ever.
16. Stoke City
Second season syndrome a factor but should still have enough.
17. Wigan Athletic
Lost many good players. Martinez should just keep them up.
Disarray defined as Portsmouth in the Oxford Dictionary. 09/10’s Toon.
19. Wolverhampton Wanderers
No Premiership experience. Experience of Premiership relegation doesn’t really count.
20. Hull City
The surprise factor well and truly departed. Down by Easter.
Not this kind of window, the Transfer Window!
It’s with the usual mug of splosh with two sugars that we welcome Eliot this morning. Continuing his Transfer Window series, today it Spurs’ turn. He had this to say…
What they need
Spurs squad depth is unquestionably as resolute as any club in the country, so even Harry can’t parrot his standard line of being “down to the bare bones“ in the hope of doing a few deals. One gap does stand out, namely left wing. Although there is more chance of Michael Jackson playing there for Spurs next season, than there is of Ashley Young doing likewise.
Who they don’t need
Deep breath. Gareth Bale‘s tremdendous record of never appearing on the winning side for Spurs in a league match may mean its time to add his name to the lengthy list of hot prospects who Spurs have managed to ruin. It’s a list that David Bentley is already on, and it looks as if he will complete a move to Aston Villa next week, whilst Gio dos Santos has gone from the next Ronaldinho to Portman Road in the space of 12 months. In Gilberto, Damien Comoli managed to find the one Brazilian on the planet with no first touch, whilst Alan Hutton, signed in the same window, allegedly has issues with the type of white lines that full backs aren’t supposed to run up and down. Yet whilst Kevin ‘Prince’ Boateng is still heir to the throne at the Lane, any player up for sale must surely be secondary to him.
I know what you did last Summer. Not the Love Hewitt /Michelle Gellar drivel, but rather some of Spurs more imaginative summer signings of late, including £15m David Bentley, £14m Roman Pavlyuchenko, £17m Darren Bent and £8m Didier Zokora.
Inevitably linked with
Former Portsmouth players. Dimitar Berbatov. Africans playing in France
Any other business
With Harry Redknapp still on police bail, and the Defoe transfer back to the Lane still under investigation for the alleged cutting out of his agent Sky Andrew, the Met may be advised to keep a close eye on goings-on at the Lane this summer.
Not that kind of window, pillock, the Transfer Window!
As always, we welcome Eliot – a fantastic football writer – with a sharp glass of lemonade and a gentleman’s kiss, like mobsters do. You know – mobsters. Tough guys. Goodfellas. The kind of men who can kiss without you giggling. Them. Continuing his Transfer Window series, he had this to say about Portsmouth…
What they need
With Glen Johnson already on his way, the imminent departures of Sol Campbell and Sylvain Distin mean Pompey will effectively require a brand new back line next season. Or they could hand the baton over to Younes Kaboul. And get relegated.
Who they don’t need
Pompey are still paying the price for (and the wages for) the fondness of a certain Mr H. Redknapp esq to do a deal. Players like Glen Little and Papa Bouba Diop are gathering cobwebs, and whoever manages Portsmouth next season, they will certainly need to clear out the deadwood.
Tony Adams. An extraordinary January window saw Basinas, Gekas and even Pele (no, not that one) arrive at Pompey. Lets hope Peter Storrie left the meter running.
Inevitably linked with
Spurs rejects. Dodgy takeovers. Sven.
Any other business
Quite a lot actually. With a takeover looming from Dr Sulaiman al-Fahim (the most illegitamate use of the prefix since the days of good old Dr Fox), and all manner of shady characters claiming/denying involvement, the club urgently need this to be resolved so players can enter as well as exit Fratton this summer.
Yes, this is one of them…
As ever, it’s with a great big cheer and a shot of the strong stuff that we welcome Eliot back to the Interestment fold – he’s got a gigantic brain stuffed to the brim with news and opinions about sport. He had this to say about his top ten people made famous by the year in football…
1. Tom Henning Ovrebo
One minute you have a meagre three line entry on Wikipedia, the next you are responsible for the worst swearing on ITV since Gordon Ramsay ceased his tiresome and rather blue, attention-seeking routine. Ovrebro certainly didnt have the Semi Final second leg between Chelsea and Barca under control, but that was no excuse for the sanctimonious outburst from Jamie Redknapp in the Sky studio post-match. Fuming that dear cousin Frank would miss out on yet another ill-deserved medal, Redknapp railed against the craziness of UEFA in allowing someone from little old Norway to officiate in such a big match. Much better allow an Italian. Roberto Rosetti perhaps, whose ludicrous sending off of Darren Fletcher cost Manchester United a ball-winning midfielder in the final, and possibly the trophy itself.
2. Sheikh Mansour bin Zayed Al Nahyan
Not as easy on the tongue as previous owner Franny Lee, and no less easier on the human rights abuses than previous incumbent Thaksin Shinawatra either. But this is the football world we live in today, a mad world where a man with a towel on his head is hailed as a Messiah (a concept he wouldn’t believe in) and whom one of the club’s centre half (Tal Ben-Haim) would be banned from visiting at home due to his nationality. Take a glance out the window to your left, and that would be the recently defenstrated ethics in football flying past.
3. Federico Macheda
Such is the hype and comprehensive coverage of football these days, it is rare a player that nobody has heard of makes a name for himself in a big fixture. With reserve team football live on television and even Youth Cup Final rights battled over by Sky/Setanta, players tend to emerge onto the stage fully born, with the football pitch being more reminiscent of pantomine (“I’ve seen him in something else”) than an obscure production of Midsummer Night’s Dream at a provincial theatre in Somerset (“I’ve never seen this Bottom before”) Joe Cole, Wayne Rooney and Michael Owen were all new Gazzas whilst barely out of school, and Arsene Wenger uses the Carling Cup to saucily hitch up the skirt and give us a flash of his next generation. So although he scored a goal in the most commercial league in the most commerical arena, in a minute of injury time that existed purely in the mind of Mike Riley, there was something beautiful about Macheda sending Luke Young the wrong way, and curling the ball past Brad Friedel. That goal meant the title was heading back to Old Trafford, and the banner on the Stretford End will now read Twenty Years and Waiting from August.
4. Brede Hangeland
Although he signed for Fulham last January, it arguably wasnt until the 1-0 home victory against Arsenal in August, that Brede Hangelandshot to national prominence. Having scored the winner in a Man of the Match display, short of lining up the post-match roast, there is very little extra a modern day footballer can do in a game. It’s easy to laugh at Roy Hodgson – although Jonathan Ross arguably owes his career to the bloke whose lisp he has aped all these years – but his itinerant time in management has certainly paid off. At Viking FK he first coached Hangeland, and ultimately signed him for Fulham. At Inter Milan, he won the UEFA Cup. As manager of the United Arab Emirates, he made a lot of money. Trophies, knowledge and hard shekels – Roy Hodgson, Interestment salutes you.
5. Dan Gosling
It was a cold February night, a cracking cup-tie between the fiercest of rivals on Merseyside, set for penalties with just seconds on the clock. Then a ball over… the tic tacs are a refreshing sweet, suprisingly low in calories and perfect for refreshing… and jubilant scenes around Goodison.
6. Amir Zaki
Egyptian centre forwards – occasionally brilliant, frequently temperamental, but every so often struggle with the concept of stepping on a plane marked for Heathrow. Amir Zaki certainly isnt one to rebuff a streotype, starting brilliantly with that goal at Anfield – a goal so good that we all questioned our very existence in its aftermath – before spending much of the winter sulking, eventually vanishing home. Yet there can be no doubt Zaki is a decent player, and it will be interesting to see whether Steve Bruce, who played such a part in the Egyptian’s falling out with Wigan, attempts to sign him up top for Sunderland. If Amir thought living in Wigan was a long way from Cairo….
7. Charles Insomnia
A man we still wouldn’t have heard of were it not for Joe F*Kin’near’s tremendous Wordsworthesque pun, describing his winger Charles N’Zogbia in terms symptomatic of his tiresome whinging. Back in the 90s, when Kinnear was last managing a club in the top 6 of the Premier League, it was appropriate to mock foriegners with exotic names. Those days, alas, are no more, despite rumours of keeper Georg Koch signing for Hull City. So who was the eventual winner in this tiff? Well, Kinnear ended up with a triple bypass, N’Zogbia ended up at Wigan Athletic. Lets call that a no-score draw shall we?
8. Sandra Redknapp
Given young Jamie’s domestic bliss, it is hard to imagine Harry not enjoying a similar status – lovely palatial gaff, a couple of top top ornaments, and a cracking wife. Alas Harry revealed earlier in the season that his wife is in fact adroit in the air at the far post, as following Darren Bent’s lamentable miss in the match against Portsmouth, he claimed spouse Sandra (above, left) would have put it away. We now imagine Sandra as a Peter Withe figure, irrepressible from a decent cross with a large sweatband around her prominent bonce.
Redknapp is often hailed as the archetypal hand-round-the-shoulder man manager. Quite how Darren Bent felt after this snide cheapshot is perhaps best left unsaid. Top, top stuff Harry.
9. Ched Evans
Not since Anna Friel’s lesbian kiss on Brookside has there been such a storm over a sex act on primetime television. Michael Essien’s “raping” of young Man City striker Ched Evans caused such a furore, that one half-expected a re-enactment on Crimewatch the following evening. As it was, all we got was a remorseful Alan Pardew, a man who allegedly once shared a bellydancer with Xabi Alonso. More than that, however, we were worthy of a tremendous insight into the common football vernacular, with the training ground perhaps the last bastion of political incorrectness in the workplace.
10. Susan Boyle
Well everyone else has jumped on the bandwagon so we might as well. And it’s not as if all this attention is doing her any harm….
Even this man was too old…
Did anyone see Arsenal at the weekend? Wow. The average age of the team was something like 14, and yet they still managed to win. Win real good. Of course, it’s nothing new for young footballers to destroy older teams, just visit a park on any given weekend and you’ll spot decrepit alcoholics getting hammered ten-nil by teenage glue sniffers – with their hooded tops, and their crunk music. Still, we thought it high time to compile the greatest young England team ever…
Goalkeeper, Peter Shilton, 21 years old (1970)
In goalkeeping terms, 21 is literally embryonic. Yet, that was Shilts back in 1970 when he first pulled on an England shirt. Young, dumb, and full of enthusiasm. He did, of course, go on to afro wigs, and allowing Maradona to humiliate him. Twice.
Right Back, Micah Richards, 18 years old (2006)
What’s happened to Micah Richards? Just a couple of years ago he was the teen sensation galloping up the right hand side like a maniac. We thought he was the new Jesus Christ. Now he’s just some grumpy old soothsayer going around Manchester shouting at people. At just 20.
Centre Back, Jonathan Woodgate, 19 years old (1999)
Just before he decided to dabble in race hate, Woodgate looked like a shoo-in for the England defence for years to come. But he didn’t – he went loco, then got mangled, then he upped and left to Real Madrid to concentrate on growing his hair. Now he’s back in Blighty with Spurs, and when he’s not sobbing in sick bay demanding that Nurse rub some more Deep Heat into his aching groin, he’s still pretty good at football.
Centre Back, Rio Ferdinand, 19 years old (1997)
He’s been around for ages, that Rio Ferdinand, but there was a time when he was just a strange shaven-headed boy from West Ham attempting to make friends with Sol Campbell. Tough gig. He’s since gone on to outshine his former defensive partner, both on the pitch, and when it comes to merking people.
Left Back, Gareth Barry, 19 years old (2000)
It’s easy to forget that before he became the sturdy oak in midfield, Barry was a zippy left back with a strange face – like something from the mind of Edvard Munch. Little Kevin Keegs gave him a run out in 2000, which is enough to keep out Ashley Cole – who, by the way, is a loathesome little oik who once stopped midway through sexual intercourse with a hairdresser to be sick, before carrying on. Behind his wife’s back.
Right Midfield, Theo Walcott, 17 years old (2006)
Everyone went barmy when Walcott kept Defoe out of the 2006 World Cup squad, but now it looks more like a masterstroke. Now shifted out right for the sake of his football education, he still has the face of a confused 7-year-old French exchange student, which is fitting, because he looks all set to morph into England’s version of France’s Thierry Henry.
Centre Midfield, Joe Cole, 19 years old (2001)
For so long, little Joe Cole was the New Gazza, with his zany box of tricks and cheeky little face. Of course, becoming the New Gazza is getting less and less appealing these days. He just looks so thin. Becoming the new Joe Cole on the other hand…
Centre Midfield, Steven Gerrard, 20 years old (2000)
The old man of the team, Gerrard made his England debut one whole day after his 20th birthday. As everyone knows, he has since gone on to replace Robbie Fowler as the closest thing Liverpool has to the lord God him/herself. A man never without a curious furrow in his gentle brow.
Left Midfield, Aaron Lennon, 19 years old (2006)
Like Micah Richards, Aaron went a little skewiff after his early England games, zooming down the wing like an angry mouse on a motorbike. He was great. The good news is that he’s starting to resemble that young man once again. The bad news is that he still spends at least two hours every morning carefully applying completely pointless go-faster stripes in his eyebrows. Crazy.
Centre Forward, Wayne Rooney, 17 years old (2003)
Rooney has always been terrifying, but never more so than when he was a 17-year-old former boxer looking for a fight. What a great Euro 2004 he had. It was around that time that he also discovered his lust for old women prostitutes.
Centre Forward, Michael Owen, 18 years old (1998)
To look at Michael Owen now – with his miserable face, his robotronic voice, his Phil Collins CDs – you’d never think that he once lit up the entire planet with his electrifying football. And yet he did. He absolutely did. He was so quick.
These men are small, but effective…
If you think that height equates to success, you’re wrong. Look at Hollywood – Tom Cruise is as small as a pigeon, Al Pacino can go eyeball-to-eyeball with a toddler. The men are literally elves, or hobgoblins if you have to get all politically correct about it. Even Daniel Day Lewis is barely bigger than a packet of cigarettes. And so to the football pitch, where strapping athletes thunder around trying to boot a sphere into an onion bag for points. You’d think that only the biggest would survive, but again, you’re totally wrong. Here’s a team of near-midgets that could literally thrash anyone…
Goalkeeper, Rene Higuita, Colombia
Already a veteran of our Football Haircut XI, Higuita was 5 ft 9 inches, which is unthinkably tiny for a modern goalkeeper. He made up for his lack of height by behaving like a total mentalist.
Right Back, Paul Parker, England
A fantastic little player, Parker was a big hit at Man United until Gary Neville came along with his rat-like face and ruined the party. Still, for a time, this 5 foot 7 inch marvel was the best right back in Blighty.
Centre Back, Roberto Ayala, Argentina
In real life, at 5 foot 9 inches, Roberto wouldn’t attract the baffled stares of tactless children. But on a football pitch, faced with towering strikers, he had the look of a terrier yapping at a lamp post.
Centre Back, Fabio Cannavaro, Italy
Like Ayala, Cannavaro isn’t absurdly short for a human being – at 5 foot 9 inches – but in central defender terms, he’s a dwarf. Or even a baby dwarf. Once crowned World Player of The Year.
Left Back, Roberto Carlos, Brazil
Roberto, for those who remember, is the zippy defender who once scored a curling free kick that he’s spent the rest of his career attempting to repeat. It was astonishing. Especially to those watching from the cheap seats at the back, wondering how a 5 foot 6 inch munchkin could play to such a high level.
Right Wing, Lionel Messi, Argentina
Like so many geniuses (or geniae?), Lionel was told when he was a child that he would never be any good at football, because his growth hormones were all buggered, and he’d be too small. Now he’s the best player in the world, and stands at a whopping 5 foot 7 inches. Take that, science!
Centre Midfield, Edgar Davids, Holland
Not only did Davids – a fearsome midfielder – have magnificent hair, but he also wore shades to play football. Not, unfortunately, because he was cool. It was his glaucoma playing up. At the height of his playing career, he stood 5 foot 7 inches tall in studs.
Centre Midfield, Claude Makelele, France
To hear people talk of his dominance as a holding midfielder, you’d think that Makelele was a giant barking hound protecting the gates of Hell. Not a dinky little French guy – 5 foot 7 inches – with a supermodel girlfriend. As is the reality.
Left Wing, Andrei Arshavin, Russia
Arsenal’s latest import looks like a fantastic buy, and with his flair for fashion design, he should be right at home in North London. At 5 foot 7 inches tall, he makes up the remainder of this tiny little midfield quartet.
Striker, Kenny Dalglish, Scotland
It was a close call for the second striker spot, with Romario, Zola, Kevin Keegan and Peter Beardsley all just missing out. That’s because, at 5 foot 8 inches, Dalglish qualifies as a relatively short striker, and they don’t come much better. A brilliant player.
Striker, Diego Maradona, Argentina
Simply put, Maradona is the greatest footballer there has ever been, and that is unlikely to change any time soon. Before he went on to bloated bellies and swollen nostrils, he was literally the best thing on the planet – at just 5 foot 5 inches tall to boot.
No room for Mr Topless…
It’s always magnificent to hear from a member of the fine Interestment family, and today Eliot – a keen wit, with an eye for sports – has turned his arched eyebrow onto the world of football. He had this to say…
Goalkeeper, Gerald Gansterer
All too often these days, a terrible tackle is accompanied by chest-beating apologetics, and the claim from the player, “I played the ball ref”, and from the pundits, “no malice was meant.” Austria remains a no-nonsense sort of place; authoritarian enough to cosy up to Hitler in 1938, but as history has always simply blamed the Germans, the approbation and guilt hasn’t washed it all away yet like their friendly, sausage-loving neighbours. In that spirit, here is the LASK Linz goalkeeper, keeping his eyes firmly on the player, and even waiting until the ball had sailed firmly out of play before assaulting the opposing centre forward. Amazingly, the keeper stayed on the field to face the penalty. Didn’t save it mind. That would have been rubbing it in.
Centre Back, Phil Jagielka
Here though is a man who does know how to rub it in. Not content with giving away a blatant penalty in the FA Cup Semi Final, an appeal waved away by Mike Riley (why is that expression waved away always used – it makes referees sound awfully camp), old Jags landed the knockout blow in the shoot-out.
Centre Back, Arnaud Le Lan
See Lorik Cana (below) to see why this Lorient full back makes this week’s cut.
Centre Back, Domingos
And see Diego Souza (below) to see why the Santos centre-half has been summoned to this illustrious side.
Right Midfield, Cristiano Ronaldo
Proving casinos in the North aren’t just the preserve of ostentatious, seedy, preeners… oh hang on a sec. Casino 235 in Manchester was the venue for Ronnie to drop over 1k a time on the roulette tables according to yesterday’s Daily Mail. Red or Black Ronaldo? All of which is a nice change from the option of Red or White he will be dithering over quite publicly this Summer.
Centre Midfield, Lorik Cana
Isnt it annoying when a throw-in decision goes against you? Here is Marseille’s Albanian skipper Lorik Cana holding the ball a little too tight, much to the chagrin of Lorient’s le Lan. Incidentally, what is the French word for chagrin? Leave it lads – c’est ridicule apparently (sound required).
Centre Midfield, Frank Lampard
Currently squiring James Blunt’s sister, a lovely looking blonde by the name of Daisy Blount. No – that isn’t yet another typo from the easily distracted Interestment editor, that is genuinely the family surname, which James doctored so he wouldn’t sound silly. Insert punchline of your choice.
According to the august journal that is the Daily Mail, Blount runs Belvedere Properties, a small private concierge business that locates luxurious chalets, villas and boat trips for its wealthy members. Said paper goes on to add unnecessarily, “This enterprise was started by her parents.” Great – can’t think how she managed to land that gig.
Left Midfield, Francis Lee
You know the drill by now kids.
Striker, Diego Souza
And you thought Zinedine Zidane over-reacted to something whispered gently in his ear. Here is some harmless chaos from Palemiras v Santos. Having just come on for the away side, defender Domingos ran straight over to Diego Souza, almost as if his sole purpose for joining the game was to antagonise his compatriot. Souza took the bait and retaliated violently to some obviously choice words.
Having rolled over like he’d been thumped by a London policeman, Domingos continued to attract Souza’s ire even after red cards had been shown, and the frontman eventually broke free of team-mates clutches to re-enter the field and attack Domingos properly this time
Striker, Lauri Dalla Valle
The Liverpool striker may go on to have a long and fruitful career in front of goal, but it is unlikely he will bag a goal as simple as this third in Liverpool’s 3-0 first leg FA Youth Cup semi-final, as Blues keeper Dean Lyness decided to use the first televised match of his life to make the biggest blunder of his career to date. Wikipedia informs us that Dalla Valle’s father was the head of a mushroom company, and perhaps Lyness had been dabbling in a few ‘shrooms prior to kick off.
Striker Dimitar Berbatov
Finally it appears that someone has pointed out the emperor doesn’t have any clothes. Berbatov was a flat-track bully at Spurs – he only scored one goal against clubs in the top half during his first season there – and has now been found out. His style of play is sulky and enigmatic apparently, although I think we all know that if Mr Berbatov was African and played in the same languid way (a la Didier Drogba) these adjectives would soon turn to, disinterested and lazy.
No room for these particular lookalikes…
Some people literally spend their entire lives staring thoughtfully at pictures of Phil Neville or Wayne Rooney, pondering which particular screen monster they should lump them alongside this time. It’s a great way of becoming a popular face in football circles – a finely judged facial observation about Michael Ballack can diffuse fights in pubs, start chit chat that eventually leads to sex with hairdressers, or simply make your mates laugh until they vomit Becks Vier all over the pavement. With that in mind, we thought we’d compile our own well-observed team of football lookalikes… sick bags ready, people.
Goalkeeper, David James
Once he decides to hang up his slippery gloves, David James presumably has a second career lined up as an underpants model. He’s spent years sculpting a body that would tighten Michelangelo’s loin cloth, and above is his lookalike, also called David. Big hands. Very big hands.
Right Back, Gary Neville
Fans of The Wire or Generation Kill might have noticed the above Gary Neville-alike. He’s called James Ransone, and, like young Gary, he tends to play psychotics.
Centre Back, Jonathan Woodgate
Brilliantly, we’ve decided that Jonathan Woodgate is a bit like a mummy, because he’s sometimes got a bandage on his leg. Hilarious.
Centre Back, Olof Melberg
We’ve deemed the legendary maniac Charles Manson to be the 1960s cult leader equivalent of the defender Olof Melberg. Both seem to share a similar steely hollowness in the eye, and, yes, beards.
Left Back, Ashley Cole
This might be a little harsh on Osama, but both men really are quite unpopular with the fans. Bin Laden for the whole international terrorism thing, Cole for steamrollering a hairdresser behind his wife’s back, pausing mid-coitus to spew, then carrying on. Rancid.
Right Midfield, David Beckham
Above football, Beckham prides himself on having fantastic hair and in his armory is a finely tuned smoulder that he pulls out of the bag during photo shoots. Not unlike a certain Fabio (above).
Centre Midfield, Joey Barton
Once in a while, a character will return to a soap, but played by a different actor. Needless to say, the hardcore viewers go mental. However, were Martin Fowler to trundle back to Albert Square, played by Merseyside’s favourite son Joey Barton, literally no one would notice. Until he nutted Dot for fluffing a line.
Centre Midfield, Frank Lampard
Never anything less than well turned out, Lampsie totters around a football pitch like a poodle walking into an exclusive dogs-only drinks party.
Left Midfield, Ronaldinho
Lots of people laugh about how Ronaldinho looks a bit like Jar Jar Binks, and how he could probably eat a grapefruit through a slot machine, but we tend to think of him as the exact mirror reflection of Chris Rock in the hilarious hip hop spoof, CB4.
Centre Forward, Carlos Tevez
Up front, Tevez just nudges out his team mate Wayne Rooney, thanks to his startling resemblance to the handsome young actor who plays Ugly Betty in the sitcom Ugly Betty.
Centre Forward, Peter Crouch
Stop a frightened old man in the street and demand that he describes Peter Crouch in three words, and he will definitely say Tall, Hapless, and Louche. Exactly the same three he used to describe Lurch from The Addams Family a week ago.
Not including this maniac…
With usual writer of excellent sporting insight, Eliot, away on holiday, we’ve taken it upon ourselves to honour some footballers. But rather than concentrate on the current crop – with their big watches and expensive club memberships – we thought we’d shine a spotlight on the warriors of old. Focusing mainly on their lovely hairstyles.
Hence, football’s greatest Haircut XI reads thusly…
Goalkeeper, Rene Higuita
The handsome Columbian goalie is just as famous for his great saves as he is for his gorgeous dark curly hair. The kind you could lose a stroking hand in.
Right Back, Sergio Ramos
An incredible lover of women, Ramos is famous in Spain for his prolific sex life. And is it any wonder when he has a brilliant Rachel Cut?
Centre Back, Barry Venison
Before he became a serious pundit with a normal hairstyle, Venison used to adopt womanly cuts to fool opposition attackers into thinking he might be a walkover. More fool them.
Centre Back, Des Walker
One of the first footballers to steal heavily from hip hop stylings, Des went for a flat top with an interesting kink in it.
Left Back, Alexi Lalas
Probably the most famous American footballer, he was relatively good in defence, but even better when it came to maintaining complicated hair and a manly beard. Solid.
Right Midfield, Tony Daley
This guy was like grease lightening, and just edges out Beckham, thanks to his classic toupee look.
Centre Midfield, Carlos Valderrama
The reigning champion of football haircuts, Valderrama captains the side, with his glorious My Little Pony mane. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.
Centre Midfield, Bobby Charlton
It’s easy to forget that footballers didn’t used to be totally vain. Bobby is here to remind us of that with his strange, elderly gentleman hair.
Left Midfield, Chris Waddle
The only thing more striking and elusive than Chris’ football skills was his actual hair. Sometimes excellent, often weird, it drew the crowds.
Centre Forward, Ruud Gullit
Gullit could play pretty much anywhere on the pitch, he was totally brilliant. His trademark locks were universally applauded as well.
Centre Forward, Kevin Keegan
It was never in doubt, Keegan was always going to lead the line. A small, strange man, he made up for his lack of natural talent by working very very hard, and striding into a local barbers and demanding something a little bit permed and unusual.
Somehow, no place for this guy…
It’s always a pleasure to bring another keen, lively mind into the Interestment family, so give new boy Eliot a fashionable welcome – paying particular attention to his fizzing wit and football brain. He will be talking through his team of the weekend every single Monday from now until the end of time. Or, indeed, the end of the season. His first eleven looks like this:
Goalkeeper, Shaquille O’Neal
Basketball. One team goes up the school hall and the tall chap places the ball over-aggressively in a hoop. The opposing team does the same. Repeat until adverts. US sports are so tiresome, hence it’s no surprise that Shaq O’Neal celebrates his rather perfunctory penalty save in a manner more befitting Gordon Banks tipping Pele’s header over the bar. Well done Shaq – have a biscuit.
Right Back, Elvis Alves Pereira
Like finding out that not all Frenchmen are great lovers and not all Scousers claim dole, here is a Brazilian shattering some lazy stereotypes by being rubbish at football.
Left Back, Hrvoje Čale
In line with other leagues in Europe which don’t have Manchester United in them, the Turkish league is being led by an unfancied side, the “Black Sea Storm” themselves, Trabzonspor. As part of their all-conquering antics, a different player dances at the end of their side’s league victories, and this week, it was the turn of the young Croatian left-back to lead the way. Ah, that fun-loving Turkish football culture.
Centre-Back, Julien Feret
Here’s the Nancy defender pulling a goal back against PSG. John Terry probably can’t do this. Bloody English clogger defenders put to shame once more by sophisticated ball-playing continental counterparts. Where to guv?
Centre-Back, John Terry
Whats that you say? John Terry volleying in from 25 yards on Saturday? Better than Feret you say? Ah…
Right Midfield, Cristiano Ronaldo
Old Ronnie is a regular in these sort of weekly elevens, and has seen trinklets rain down on him for all manner of ways in which he gets a ball from A to B, despite a wall (let’s call it C) being cunningly placed in his way. But not this week. We at Interestment dont know if Aesop’s Fables ever managed to crack the tough children’s literature market in Portugal but it’s safe to say copies were not so prevalent in the Ronaldo family.
Having spent the best part of six years diving to win penalties, and generally being a wily cheat, Ronaldo’s first ever genuine shout for a spot-kick was waved away on Sunday afternoon by Chris Hoy, who only heard the word “Wolf” whilst around him United players cried “Penalty!!!” As Aesop had already forewarned us all – “Even when liars tell the truth, they are never believed. The liar will lie once, twice, but then perish when he tells the truth.” In other words, Ronaldo should count himself lucky he only got a yellow card.
Centre Midfield, Ricardo Gardner
Gardner would be in Garth Crooks’ team of the week for scoring a lovely winner with only his second touch against Newcastle. He’s in our team of the week for releasing a reggae track under the name “Bibi”. Because, kids, that’s how we roll.
Centre Midfield, El-Hadji Diouf
If you’ve ever wanted to hear a man who has scored in the world cup say, “If I’m not a footballer, I shag your mum every fucking single day,” step this way. That’s all of you then.
Left Midfield, Francis Lee
Thanks to Barry Davies, this man was the first to make the beautiful game interesting.
Striker, Giuseppe Mascara
When the world of online football eventually begins to run out of ideas, websites will produce comedy elevens, such as teams composed of players called Fred, and teams of players who didnt quite make the grade at Portsmouth. Well here’s one for the team of players whose name sounds like make-up, he being Giuseppe Mascara, captured here scoring a screamer for Catania at the weekend. Football365 circa 2011, you can thank us later.
Striker, Gary Hunter
You’re a Morecambe fan who has shlepped to Grimsby, it’s 2-2 on a freezing Tuesday night by the sea. It smells of fish, the people around you smell of fish, you probably smell of fish by now. The wife has left dinner in the oven, which only goes to confirm those suspicions you had about her playing away. But then this happens, and one is reminded why we bother with the fickle mistress that is football. Twiss with the corner, Hunter does the rest.
Hey, haven’t we seen you somewhere before?
It’s nothing new for footballers to look to style icons in search of their vibe. Becksie famously plunders through his wife’s wardrobe to find nice sparkly frocks to make him feel special, and anyone who hasn’t seen Lampsie, JT, Drog Drog and the Cole Sisters skipping through Top Man merrily pretending that items of clothing are gymnastic ribbons obviously hasn’t ever been to Top Shop. Honestly, go on Friday – they’ll be there. Which leads us convieniently to Tottenham Hotspur’s prodigal child, Jermain Defoe. Ignoring his fellow player’s lust for silks, last night he fashioned his look on one of soul musics most beloved icons, Donny Hathaway. By which we mean that he wore a hat.
Some classic Hathaway AND classic Defoe after the jump…
Where’s the next Freddie coming from?
Ever since Freddie Ljungberg decided to hang up his boots and plunge conkers first into full time underpants modeling, it’s been difficult to see who might pick up the greasy fashion baton left behind by him and Becksie.
At first it looked like Chelsea boys Lampsie and JT might start experimenting with dangerous new looks, but those hopes have been all but dashed. Bentley at Spurs has the look of a man who might yet dazzle the punters with some bold style statements, but his profile is still too small.
Footballers, Interestment’s big fashion eye is watching you. Props this weekend should really go to Agbonlahor, Lennon, Ashley Young, Berbsie, Anelka and Jimmy Bullard for adhering to the fashionable code of glove season. And an extra big slap on the back goes to Arsenal’s Mr Serious, Cesc Fabregas, for experimenting with a full-torso understocking.