Category: Latest

Joao Havelange: A “Tribute”

There are three perspectives on the death of Joao Havelange in Rio de Janeiro on Tuesday, aged 100. Havelange’s family and loved ones are currently grieving his loss, which no-one has the right to disrespect that grief or question. And I’m certainly not about to. But when Sepp Blatter and the repugnant Jack Warner pay you your two kindest tributes, that’s another matter. And when highly-respected investigative journalist Andrew Jennings tweets that Havelange “was a gangster, urbane but still a gangster,” that’s another matter again. Because if the bad guys love you and the good guys hate you, what...

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Blackburn Rovers: debt, silence & stagnation

The early stages of the season are probably not the right time to be drawing too many inferences from league tables, but Blackburn Rovers’ position at the bottom of the Football League Championship mirrors increasing disillusionment at the way in which the club is being run at the moment. On the pitch, Rovers’ season couldn’t have started much more inffectively. On the opening day of the season, they were handed a sharp reminder of the amount of work required to be done if the club is to get anywhere near challenging for a return to the Premier League. Three...

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Olympic Games Football: The Quarter-finals

WOMEN’s QUARTER-FINALS Hopefully, the Olympic football quarter-finals finished two things. Hope Solo’s international football career. And my attempts to predict Olympic football matches. I was one well-struck Australian shoot-out penalty from getting all four women’s quarter-finals’ wrong. So, from now on, I’m sticking to history, such as…Hope Solo’s international football career. USA 1 Sweden 1 (Sweden win 4-3 on penalties) Sky’s Paul Kelso tweeted that Solo’s press conference after Sweden’s penalty shoot-out win was “remarkable.” It wasn’t. Not for her. She’s a veteran hissy-fit egomaniac. Her accusations of Swedish cowardice wrote headlines. But her pig-ignorance was greater exposed by...

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Dalian Atkinson

Perhaps more than any other individual moment of that first season of the Premier League, it was this ten seconds of brilliance that drew the line in the sand between Old Football and New Football. Winning the ball from deep inside his own half, he ran a full sixty yards with the ball at his feet, largely untroubled by Wimbledon attempts to win it back, before lifting the ball over the goalkeeper and into the corner of the goal. In the bottom left-hand corner of the screen, we can see the travelling supporters tumbling down the vast open terrace...

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Premier League Review: Oh, Arsene 

At ten thirty on Saturday night, a nation sat bewitched in front of its collective television set. Would he or wouldn’t he? If he did, would he opt for baggy, modesty covering shorts, or would he go all in, cock and balls visible as an outline through the tightiest of whities, or perhaps a luminous mankini? In the end, Gary went for the former, opting to stand before the camera with the probable knowledge that sitting down can make even the buffest of specimens look as though they’ve got three stomachs. It was the sensible choice. The salt and...

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