Thursday, November 15, 2012

When your hobby becomes a chore?

Since a tender age, my Saturday's have followed a similar, sometimes identical pattern. I wake up, and have breakfastm shower. As i got older you could add shave (occasionally). Get dressed. Go to the football.

Following Oxford United, i've been to 103 seperate football grounds (104 on Saturday), and at no point during that span of 15 years i've been going, have I ever been less enthralled, or excited for the prospect of Saturday arising.

I'll happily concede we've watched worse teams in the sacred Yellow. I'll even concede the style of football remains more entertaining than the repetetive sleep-inducing anti-football Ian Atkins consistently churned out. However, be it me having a greater understanding of the game now then when Atkins was in charge, or be it i'm apart of an impatient crop of fellow Oxford fans who want success as soon as we can, quite frankly, i'm bored.

This Saturday, Torquay United at home, off the back of a morale-crippling 3-2 home defeat to lowly Dagenham & Redbridge (who sit above us in the table) was met with an increased, yet still underwhelming crowd of 5,700+.

The whole atmosphere in and around the ground was subdued, flat and as if we've all been collectively summoned and this was some form of enforced purgatory. It's not! We pay our hard earned (or in my case, student loan) money to watch this. It's an addiction that grapples with millions of others over the country, but for me right now, it's more a habit than a privelige.

I would argue at this moment in time watching Oxford is like still watching 'Skins', you know what will happen, you'll undoubtedly be disappointed, but you watch, just in case.

A 0-0 draw ensued with the 'Gulls', often a proverbial 'bogey team', but again, especially the first half left a bitter taste of seldom seen frustration at the lack of activity on show.

Sarcasm was the main entree being served in the stands, with repetetive jokes in store for Simon Heslop, the once important centre midfielder whose season has entailed spells on the right wing, on the bench and as the scapegoat for the baying crowd.

In defence of Heslop, he's been forced into an uncomfortable position, was adequate when called upon Saturday, and was far from the poster child of ineptitude in the performance,

With remarks about are never-changing kickoff routine (knock back, diagonally kicked, in touch. In rugby, it;s called territory) all the way through to the baffling substitution that occured. The aforementioned Heslop was replace by Chapman, another naturally central player forced onto the wing. (Square pegs and round holes anyone?)

But alas, it wasn't any of this that really irked me. It wasn't even the spurned chances and dominance we showed in the last 20 minutes, if anything that had me encouraged. It's the complete lack of appreciation which is now being shown to the fans.

I would happily sit here and criticise some of what football fans (ours included)do. However, what should be a given is an applause from the players and the staff after every game. All we receive is half hearted clap from the players and a manager whose halfway down the tunnel and in the changing rooms by the time i've the East Stand.

The complete lack of appreciation, the disconnect between the once inseperable bond of Oxford United and it's supporters (think back to after our 5 point deduction in 2009, the siege mentality we all took on).

It could be easy to cite the results and the performances, and it is. It's no secret, the end of last season was quite frankly pathetic. Two points from our last seven games, then to watch Crewe who pipped us to the post celebrating. It left me sour.

Last season should remain that though. In the past. This season started with such optmism and flair. Then as players' returned from injury. The squad got deeper, stronger and more equipped for the challenge ahead, we stagnated. A head-scratcher to say the least.

A thumping win over Accrington, two away wins at Wycombe and Barnet, and by all accounts a decent, yet unsuccessful performance against Rochdale led many, me included to thinking perhaps the metaphorical corner was turned. I was wrong.

More peculiar managerial selection saw Michael Raynes start instead of the fit, yet rested(?) Jonny Mullins, whose been nothing short of a rock in his brief spell at the Kas Stad.

This Saturday, i'll travel to Chesterfield. I'll take the train from my house to Leicester, then over to Chesterfield. I'll do it because this team of people i'll never meet or probably speak to have more affect on my life than almost anything else.

I'll be there, but to say i'm 'excited' about it, or even optmistic is a far cry. Still beats doing the washing up though.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

The Trade, the end of an era that never was!


In December 2010, off the back of an injury plagued, hard fought season which ultimately ended mediocrity, and being also-rans, the Red Sox made a ‘splash’.

 
This wasn’t a regular ‘splash’, this was Sam Allardyce/Rex Ryan (delete as appropriate) jumping in a swimming pool off a 10 foot diving board level splash.

 
After executing a trade to bring slugger Adrian Gonzalez and his “Fenway swing” to Boston, the big names continued as they inked Carl Crawford, arguably the best player in the history of division rivals Tampa Bay to a monstrous contract. (7 years $142 million)

 
With these two at the helm, to go along with stalwarts like Kevin Youkilis, David Ortiz the team possessed a potent, almost impossible lineup for opposition pitchers.

 
For a few months last summer, the team brushed every other team aside, a class above the rest. Adrian Gonzalez looked like he could hit a baked bean with a twig, and Josh Beckett was returning to a level not seen from him since his miracle playoff run of 2007. It was almost the resurrection.

 
Then the calendar flipped to September. September 2011, a month that will be etched into baseball lore, not just in New England, or across Red Sox Nation, but the whole of baseball. The team crumbled.

 
The team won 7 of there last 27 games, missing out on the playoffs, watching a potential World Series title fall by the wayside and the exodus began. We know this story!

 
What we didn’t know, is that after replacing the manager, seeing the General Manager leave for ‘friendlier confines’ the exodus wasn’t finished, it was just on a break, a la Ross and Rachael.

 
This week saw the break end, the team fold, the season finish prematurely and the future becoming the present.

 
The Red Sox have been abysmal this season, on the field they’ve underperformed (eyes glare towards the pitching). Management has underperformed, with manager Bobby Valentine taking little to no time alienating key members of the team with a detrimental comment regarding Kevin Youkilis. He was eventually traded to Chicago for the equivalent of a broken bat and a split mitt.

 
The trade that we saw this week signalled the end of an era that never really begun. Adrian Gonzalez, Carl Crawford were joined on a chartered jet to Los Angeles by Josh Beckett (the recipient of many Red Sox fans’ fury) and Nick Punto (journeyman utility infielder nobody will remember) to officially become members of the Dodgers.

 
However, the Red Sox certainly didn’t just ‘give these guys’ away. In return the team receives Rubby De La Rosa, Allen Webster (the two core prospects in the deal), James Loney,  Jerry Sands, and Ivan DeJesus, to go along with 250 million dollars (gulp!) of cap relief.

 
De La Rosa, just returned from Tommy John surgery, a flame-throwing righty, supposedly the prized asset from the deal, along with Webster, who is potentially a top of the rotation starter, and immediately slots in at #4 on soxprospects.com.

 
The key to this deal for many, me included, is ridding the extotionate, borderline insane contracts of Josh Beckett and Carl Crawford.

 
Beckett, who in the past 2 years, has instigated a negative clubhouse culture, drunk beer, ate chicken, whilst looking slightly more out of shape every start, and progressively throwing slower, will take his 4 year $68 million (with 3 years remaining) with him.

 
Crawford, who had a difficult time adjusting last season, and was plagued by injuries this year will leave with fans wondering “what if?” However the chance to erase the 100 million plus he’s owed over the next 5 years was too much for the team to pass up.

 
The downside is losing Adrian Gonzalez, arguably the best all round hitter the teams had since Manny Ramirez was in his prime. Averaging .317 20+ homeruns and 115+ RBI’s per 162 games with the team, will be hard to replace.

 
However, with the team lacking any quality starting pitching this season, and the team out of contention for a playoff spot, rookie GM Ben Cherington sought to get younger players with high potential, an alien concept to us fans, who have been spoilt with playoff berths and world titles over the last decade.

 
The trade, to me, strikes as a good transaction, with the long term interest, (like taking Andrew Luck in a fantasy keeper league).

 
With uncertainty still dominating the headlines, pondering whether any other players will depart in the fire sale, If the manager has a job for next season. (let me spoil that, he has) there’s a real sense of intrigue surrounding the team, and gives Cherington an unenviable task this winter of sorting the mess out.

 Good Luck Ben!

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

We're sick of your club Kenny!


Eighteen months ago John W.Henry and Tom Werner relieved Liverpool FC of their walking nightmare, ousting the previous owners, Tom Hicks and George Gillet, who throughout their tenure, were as popular in Mereyside as ‘The Sun’.


I remember when it became apparent that New England Sports Ventures were going to purchase the club, telling many Liverpool supporting friends of the incoming owners. Praising their attention to detail, commitment to winning, and the metaphorical  ‘tight ship’ they run.


Since NESV have split their time between their two teams,  the other being the Boston Red Sox, my second favourite sports team on the planet (after Oxford United), the two have been lathered in controversy.


For the Red Sox, an unfathomable, borderline ridiculous end of season collapse, saw ownership change management, saw an onslaught of abuse from media outlets, about how they drank beer in the clubhouse, how their was no leadership.


Any Red Sox problem pales in comparison to the detriment and scandal that surround Liverpool FC. For Liverpool, who in the last twenty years has undergone a transformation from perennial winner, to successful, but a level below teams like Manchester United, Arsenal, Chelsea.


This season, with former player and manager Kenny Dalglish back at the helm, Liverpool have undergone a quest to solidify themselves as the most vile, disgusting despicable team in British football.


Spreading from racism rows, to callous, rude interviews, the man Liverpool fans call ‘King Kenny’ has managed to display himself as the most hated man in the Premier League, more so than Arsene Wenger, more than John Terry, more than anyone at Manchester United.


Liverpool has become synonymous with everything that’s wrong with football, from the Luis Suarez racism row, where Dalglish refused to blame Suarez, despite him being found guilty of racially abusing Man Utd defender Patrice Evra. The way Dalglish conducts himself in press conferences and interviews, often brash and dour, yet mixed in with an unpleasant, abrupt demeanour.


Worse than all of the managers’ wrongdoings, and the players failings, (the team sits 8th in the Premier League, below city rivals Everton)  it’s the fans’ who have become the definition of what is most wrong with this once idolised club.


Not only are they fans’ who have condoned racism, condoned their managers’ behaviour, and tried to paint themselves as victims, undergoing a witchhunt from the powers that be.


The past few days has seem the unrelented hypocrisy which seems to go along with supporting Liverpool, when Alan Davies, comedian, known for shows like Jonathan Creek and QI, pondered on his podcast, ‘The TuesdayClub’ why Liverpool wouldn’t play on April 15th, the anniversary of Hillsbrough.


With this refusal, it’s led Chelsea into having less time for recovery before their Champions League semi final against Barcelona.


The backlash to Davies, whose comments struck me as perfectly reasonable, has been severe. He’s received death threats, he’s had his donation to the Hillsbrough fund rejected, and has been the victim of a torrent of abuse from angry, naïve Liverpool supporters.


The hypocrisy  from Liverpool fans is matched by nobody. As aforementioned, they condoned Suarez behaviour, citing freedom of speech. Does Davies’ not have the same rights?


They play on the anniversary of Heysel. Are we allowed to mention that?


Their obscene behaviour in Europe, overcrowding grounds was responsible for deaths of innocent fans, and a ban on European football for English team which affected clubs (like Oxford). We don’t bring that up?


They chant mercilessly at Man United fans about the Munich air disaster. It’s different though, remember that…


Liverpool fans have a complex about them, making them the most despised football team in the country. Their fans’ are inept to seeing through their red tinted glasses, and act with no thought when following what their told. A key Liverpool figurehead says they don’t like Davies. So they don’t like Davies.


The term ‘nodding dogs’ springs to mind.


This leads me to my plea. Please NESV, sort out the calamity that is Kenny Dalglish, change the principles of this club.


Send a message that the racism and idiotic behaviour of these so called football supporters wont be accepted.


The Red Sox are linked with these people. Yet they couldn’t be more different.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Bobby's Boston's Valentine

"Bobby V"

Valentine, or Valentines, is often connotated with love, affection, romance. In Boston over the winter it’s meant upheaval, change, and hate.


For the Red Sox, after 2 world series and 8 years of Terry Francona, the time for change beckoned. For rookie General Manager Ben Cherington, his first task being thrust upon him was to find a new manager, a manager who could fill the void of arguably, the best in team history.


As interviewing continued, names in the running, out the running, then back in, with more flip-flops than a beach in Sydney, management settled on Bobby Valentine.


Valentine, once a manager of the Mets, guiding them to the World Series in 2000 (where they lost to the Yankees), left after a very public, very poisonous relationship with then Mets GM Steve Phillips.


Since then Valentine enjoyed successes in Japan and then as an analyst on ESPN before joining the Red Sox.


For the team however, the news of Valentines’ appointment was met with scepticism and shock. Marquee players, such as Carl Crawford and Josh Beckett had been in varying altercations with their new manager during his stint with ESPN.


After WEEI, NESN and various other media outlets had a cataclysmic meltdown, something which happens hilariously often, over the news, Spring Training was upon us.


With talk of Valentines’ appointment being the main source of news about the organisation, heck, it was mentioned more by the media, than the “fields medal” was by Dr.Lambeau in ‘Good Will Hunting’.


Valentine managed to win many new fans with his comment of “I hate the Yankees”, yes it’s that easy. It’s the sporting equivalent of a wrestler saying the name of the city there in. Pandering 101. Rinse, lather, repeat.


Aside from ‘Bobby V’ there has been the storyline of alcohol. In case you missed it, Red Sox pitchers (Beckett, Lester and Lackey) were widely castigated for drinking in the clubhouse during games, sometimes during games they started. Apparently demonstrating the lack of leadership on the team, and also the reason the new manager has banned alcohol.


Heading into the season itself, faced with decision, decisions and more decision regarding the roster, the Red Sox welcomed new closer Andrew Bailey, after Papelbon shipped off to Philadelphia and became a Phillie.


Daniel Bard, the heir to Papelbon’s throne, or so it seemed is being thrown into the lions’ den and being made into a starter. Trying to follow Texas, and their abundance of pitchers (C.J Wilson, Alexi Ogando and Neftali Feliz) in making the transiton from reliever to starter.


Across the board, the majority of last years’ team has returned, except with injuries to John Lackey, Carl Crawford and the inevitable retirements of stalwarts Tim Wakefield and Jason Varitek, the team had positions to fill. Oh, alongside the clusterfuck of pitchers being meshed to make some sort of makeshift bullpen.


Most positions write themselves. It will be Gonzalez, Pedroia and Youkilis on the bases. We will see Ellsbury in centre field, and ‘Salty’ behind the plate. The lineup come April 5th, should see Mike Aviles slot in at shortstop, they merry-go-round of outfielders will continue from last year, with new acquisitions Cody Ross and Ryan Sweeney, challenging Darnell McDonald to a starting job in right field.


The rotaton should write itself, barring injury Jon Lester, Josh Beckett and Clay Buchholz will be the front 3. Daniel Bard should be number 4, otherwise stretching him out to a starter has been about as worthwhile as every Hugh Grant movie in the last decade.


The number 5 slot will see a battle between young southpaw Felix Doubront, a pitcher who has had limited starts in the majors, and has seen some time relieving at the same level. His competition will be Afredo Aceves, the ex-Yankee who stunned every member of Red Sox Nation with his ability to start, relieve, set up, pitch in difficult, clutch situations.


The great Bill Simmons tweeted last year how he “couldn’t believe how much I trust Afredo Aceves”. A glowing indictment from the sports guy.


The ‘pen will see Bailey closing (and hopefully an entrance theme to match…stay with the Dropkick Murphy’s, ‘Johnny, I hardly knew ya’), new set up man Mark Melancon (traded for the superhuman Jed Lowrie) doing just that. Add a cavalcade of nobody’s, cast-offs, and remaining supporting cast from last year, and there you have it. Your 2012 Boston Red Sox.


Good times never seemed so good….

Monday, January 30, 2012

Royal Rumble Review

Even despite its ‘pre-arranged’ results, one thing that makes wrestling Pay-Per-Views entertaining is the element of surprise. No event succeeds in the element of surprise more than the Royal Rumble.


Usually a PPV filled with entertaining title matches, a bitter rivalry, then culminating in the always enthralling, highly interesting and sometimes amusing 30 man over-the-top-rope ‘Rumble’ itself.

This year, the event started with a triple threat match, inside a steel cage, Daniel Bryan defended his World Heavyweight Championship against the two giants of the WWE, Mark Henry and Big Show. The match itself was rather bland, as are most matches with Mark Henry, then ended with Bryan being held up over the top of the cage by Big Show before breaking free and hitting the floor. Retaining his World Championship.

The first match was a slight letdown, yet a predictable ending. The PPV didn’t get much better with the Divas 8 person tag match and a squash win for Brodus Clay over Drew McIntyre.

Next up was John Cena and Kane. After weeks of being tortured and beaten by the maniacal Kane, and seeing Zack Ryder being hospitalised on this past Raw. The match itself was a bit back and forth, and ended with Kane standing over a beaten Ryder, a beaten Cena and a hysterical Eve.

The ending, again predictable, was, however understandable with Kane needing to be billed as a monster, and the programme between the two needing to be extended until Elimination Chamber, before Cena diverts into a build-up to his Wrestlemania showdown with The Rock.

The prequel to the Rumble match was the WWE Championship match between CM Punk and Dolph Ziggler. A match with great potential, two great workers, with the ability to put on great matches. With all these ingredients, the match ended up in the biggest disappointment of the night.

With the emphasis of the match revolving around the issues between CM Punk and John Laurinaitis, the Raw General Manager. With Ziggler, arguably the companies best young star becoming overshadowed, and being the third party in a match he could of made a ‘Match of the year’ candidate.

Then the ‘Rumble’ itself, started with Miz eliminating old nemesis Alex Riley, then seeing new nemesis R-Truth enter at number 3. The rumble was a mundane beginning, and a mundane middle, waiting for the big names to enter the match.

Eventually Ziggler, Sheamus, Wade Barrett (the most underused wrestler in the Rumble), Chris Jericho and hometown hero Randy Orton all entering, after a few cameos from the commentators, Ricardo Rodriguez and the return of Road Dogg.

The field was left for 4, Sheamus, Jericho, Orton and Big Show. Orton defied Rumble protocol, eliminating Show on his own, with most year it taking 4 or 5 people to throw him out.

Jericho then threw Orton over the top rope in the immediate aftermath to Big Show’s elimination, thus leaving Sheamus and Jericho to battle for the main event of WrestleMania.

Sheamus and Jericho both went into a contest of near eliminations, both hanging on for dear life, with the thoughts of “who’s going to win”? Changing every second. It seemed for long periods like the returning Jericho was going to win, then all of a sudden it seemed Sheamus, undergoing a massive push, and becoming a major face of the company, was going to win.

Eventually Sheamus did win, setting up, I would envisage a ‘Mania showdown with Daniel Bryan. The Rumble match itself was average, could have been a lot worse, but at the same time, didn’t hit the heights of ‘Rumble’ matches with returning superstars and debuts of future ones.

The PPV was poor, lets not kid ourselves, a Pay-Per-View with huge potential was mismanaged, underused and far, far too predictable.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Better than Kyle Williams ball handling...i hope

A fumble! A muffed punt! A 31 yard Field Goal. The series of unfortunate authored by the San Francisco 49ers, and not Lemony Snickett, that conspired to send the New York Giants to the Superbowl.


The game, which started so ideally, when a strong defensive stand being succeeded by Vernon Davis 73 yard Touchdown grab. The Giants responded, with receiver Victor Cruz putting on a catching clinic with over 125 yards before the half. The Giants went in at half time 10-7 ahead.

The first score of the second half mirrored the first, Smith connecting with Davis to put the ‘Niners 14-10 on top. This is when the road to Indianapolis became long, winding and further away.

Slot receiver/back-up return man Kyle Williams failed to avoid a punt, with it hitting him in the knee, handing the Giants golden field position to take a 17-14 lead.

This game was more back and forth than Nathan and Lucas’s relationship on One Tree Hill, and the next twist saw the 49ers tie the game up, and spurn several opportunities to win the game, including overtime.

Overtime, nervy at any time, let alone the championship game, where the nerves multiply by around…I don’t know 3 million. Both teams had a chance to win it, they both failed. Giants blew it again, and in the battle of who could choke more, up stepped that man again, Kyle Williams.

Williams (whose received the brunt of the abuse on Twitter, I feel bad for the guy), who suddenly thought he was Devin Hester returning punts, went galloping up the middle of the field, only to be hit, hit hard. The ball popped out, the Giants pounced, the air was sucked out of the stadium. The ‘stick went silent. (Brace yourselves...)




The Giants ran, and ran, then ran again. They could of kicked at ample opportunities. They didn’t. They toyed with the crowd, making them wait for their own execution. It was brutal, sadistic. The New York Giants are the Jigsaw killer of the NFL. They play hideous mind games, and make you suffer and wait for your own demise.

Eventually Lawrence Tynes made the kick. The crowd was dead. All you can hear is players screaming, all you can see is men in white running round the field. Jim Harbaugh’s face says it all. You know he’s thinking what all 49ers fans are thinking, “we can’t be pissed off, we haven’t been relevant in 10 years….but I’m still pissed off”.

The Giants go to the Superbowl, they’ll play the New England Patriots. Tom Brady will try to conquer Eli Manning, in a rematch of Superbowl 42. The Giants ended the Patriots perfect season that year. Let’s hope Brady and Bellichick make it 4, and give the Bruins’ Stanley Cup a partner, and let Boston continue as “TitleTown”.

However, with the 49ers on the cusp of reaching it, it’s a hollow victory being an “improved team”. The team was irrelevant. Jim Harbaugh came in, transformed a losing culture, a losing team and a loser Quarterback into winners. A team who could grind out results. A team whose defence gave up nothing to other teams.He's already said "this teams is not defeated" and claimed "they will be back". He will win coach of the year this year. Deservedly. That’s not the prize he would of wanted though.

Next year will be interesting, this team will have expectations for the first time in years. Harbaugh’s intensity will go from obscene, to veins popping out of all parts of his body obscene.

If only Kyle Williams could concentrate!