The debate of how to develop a team for the 2011 world cup has waged mainly in the media but it is on the field where the polemic England and France will settle it.
Marc Lievremont has set out on a rotation policy that would make even Rafa Benitez question the French man’s sanity. After losing to England in Paris at the weekend, the French coach has once again shredded his team to pieces, including the ousting of the impressive Morgan Parra, and flung together a new one. For the French it is all about the next world cup and experimentation is the liberal philosophy that prevails. In order to build a side towards that end the coach is viewing all the players and to determine which ones to develop around over the next few years. Not only this, but they are determined to give youth its flight. Thus far, naivety has blighted them and immaturity has enhanced them.
Across the channel, though, England resisted the clamour for the ‘golden generation’ and stuck to their pragmatic and occasionally effective old guns.
Brian Ashton has kept faith with the likes of Vickery, Regan, Shaw, Wilkinson and more and their victory in France has surely postponed any clear-outs and ended Ashton’s empty threats. The stated aim is to look after the short term and the long term will fall into place – to evolve a team not to revolutionise it. Thus, the young ones have been kept largely on the sidelines, waiting their turn and growing old in the time. While both sides have played the game in wildly contrasting ways, their results have been as erratic as each other’s.
France being France revolution is the only way. England being England concession and settlement is the pain-staking route.
Will France reap the rewards of their frivolous approach or flounder in the turbulent international waters; will England prosper in the short and long term or descend into an indecisive mediocrity, which afflicted the previous pre-world cup cycle?
Time will tell. But the philosophy that prevails could offer a blueprint for 2015 preparations and settle a few debates.
Wednesday, 27 February 2008
Tuesday, 26 February 2008
Four managers and one cup final
Beyond Jonathan Woodgate’s winner, Paul Robinson’s excused error and Petr Cech’s mistiming, the undercurrent to Sunday’s League Cup final rushed around the managers; Not just two but four.
Juande Ramos is the hard-nut revolutionary and Tottenham’s lucky cup charm; Avram Grant the indecisive panderer and tactical sloth. These representations have been building for a time, but both images are rooted in the previous regimes and, as ever, their predecessors set the tone.
As Tottenham have scaled the league, picking off the mid table pedestrians at pace, and maintaining the coaches proud reputation in European competition, the cult of the Spaniard has taken a feverish hold. But it was Martin Johl that instigated the adulation and gave Ramos the ingredients to create an uncompromising, and consequently lovable, persona among the fans. He gave Tottenham an atmosphere of incompetence and unprofessionalism fresh for the Spaniard to obliterate and revolutionise. If Johl had not led the talented team to the bottom of the league, and left a bunch of overweight underachievers then Ramos would found life a little tougher. As it is he seems a fine coach, but the quirky ketchup stories have done wonders in perpetuating the cult of personality that now rages around Ramos.
In contrast, Avram Grant has suffered from the inevitable juxtaposing of past and present.
Although the predicted downturn after Grant’s appointment did not materialise, Chelsea have remained uneasily subdued and ultimately impotent against top opposition. They have failed to score a goal against the rest of the big four since Avram’s coming and slipped into the rear mirror of the title race with the spectators hardly registering. The ghost of Mourinho, which many thought had been laid to rest, once again reverberated around Wembley on Sunday. Grant is the anti-Mourinho. Dour where Mourinho was dynamic, laboured where Mourinho was innovative, runner-up where Mourinho was winner, Grant is set to suffer in the shadow of the past coach for sometime. The powers that be at Chelsea are certainly fearful of the spectre of Mourinho and the affinity it retains with the fans – apparently programmes mentioning the ‘special one’ are censored.
Often a manager is only as good, as the last one was bad.
Juande Ramos is the hard-nut revolutionary and Tottenham’s lucky cup charm; Avram Grant the indecisive panderer and tactical sloth. These representations have been building for a time, but both images are rooted in the previous regimes and, as ever, their predecessors set the tone.
As Tottenham have scaled the league, picking off the mid table pedestrians at pace, and maintaining the coaches proud reputation in European competition, the cult of the Spaniard has taken a feverish hold. But it was Martin Johl that instigated the adulation and gave Ramos the ingredients to create an uncompromising, and consequently lovable, persona among the fans. He gave Tottenham an atmosphere of incompetence and unprofessionalism fresh for the Spaniard to obliterate and revolutionise. If Johl had not led the talented team to the bottom of the league, and left a bunch of overweight underachievers then Ramos would found life a little tougher. As it is he seems a fine coach, but the quirky ketchup stories have done wonders in perpetuating the cult of personality that now rages around Ramos.
In contrast, Avram Grant has suffered from the inevitable juxtaposing of past and present.
Although the predicted downturn after Grant’s appointment did not materialise, Chelsea have remained uneasily subdued and ultimately impotent against top opposition. They have failed to score a goal against the rest of the big four since Avram’s coming and slipped into the rear mirror of the title race with the spectators hardly registering. The ghost of Mourinho, which many thought had been laid to rest, once again reverberated around Wembley on Sunday. Grant is the anti-Mourinho. Dour where Mourinho was dynamic, laboured where Mourinho was innovative, runner-up where Mourinho was winner, Grant is set to suffer in the shadow of the past coach for sometime. The powers that be at Chelsea are certainly fearful of the spectre of Mourinho and the affinity it retains with the fans – apparently programmes mentioning the ‘special one’ are censored.
Often a manager is only as good, as the last one was bad.
Saturday, 23 February 2008
Welsh finding bite to go with the bark
Two of the most influential people in this year’s Six Nations have spent almost the entire time on the bench, only leaving it to fire expletives at those on the field of play. And what an effect it has had.
Warren Gatland and Shaun Edwards, in the matter of a month, have altered the entire atmosphere surrounding Welsh rugby. Where Wales go in the short-term should not be exaggerated, but in the long-term few can doubt they are developing into a championship team; one that can be admired for their rugby and respected for their winning. These two squat figures, with deafening tongues and silencing stares, have bought an intensity, an ambition and a hunger - if it has to be said a winning mentality - to a culture which has revelled in the past and done little but dream in the present for so long.
It is a refreshing change for not just Wales but the entire culture of home nations rugby. For years an inferiority complex have pervaded the rugby in Britain and eroded its lowly ambitions.
Scotland, in many ways, have been most affected and have plummeted to the bottom of the barrel where they annually compete with Italy to avoid the indignity of the wooden spoon. But over the past ten years they’ve had a get out clause printed at the end of every performance: their self esteem and ambition has been compromised by a genuine scarcity of talent. It has not so much been a lack of belief but a lack of ability. All this serves to shame the current side greater when they turned out a second string 15 against the All Blacks in the World Cup at a time when they final had some promising players coming through. For a supposedly proud rugby nation the white flag was raised with disturbing swiftness.
Ireland too have epitomised this can’t do attitude. For a time now a team of 15, if not a squad, has been evolving into one of the most talented in world rugby. But when it comes to turning in tangible triumph Ireland have capitulated – no Six Nations championships and a pitiful performance at the World Cup. The knives were suddenly sharpening for O’Sullivan after the narrow win over Italy but one plucky defeat later and all is forgiven. The knives were holstered after a finale against France that ended in defeat but reaffirmed the Irish ‘spirit’. The truth though is that Ireland shunted France all across the park and failed to put away an inexperienced, if talented, French side. Until the Irish are more honest with themselves they will perpetually fall short.
England also have suffered from this disease. In the 1980s and 1990s they bullied the local kids but when it came time to facing up to the bigger kids of New Zealand, South Africa and Australia they threw a token blind-sider and cower for the inevitable pummelling. It was not until the mid-Woodward era that the natural order was revised.
But back to Wales, who have for so long occupied a specific identity in rugby - one for the romantics – which they have endeavoured to reinforce over the past ten years. Running the ball and chucking it about with an enthusiastic skip, they have attempted to adhere to the images of the Welsh sides of the 1970’s, and with some effect. But a mental defect has undermined their efforts. When they won the Championship in 2005 it was celebrated with the gusto that matched its improbability. It was seen as a glorious aberration, a product of circumstance not design, and a moment of wonderful madness to be savoured and emotions to be stored, as it may be many years until it came again. They became so portly from their dining out the following few years have been barren and bitter.
But with Gatland and Edwards at the helm there is a sense, if not a certainty, that the subservient underdog attitude which has for so long afflicted the development of their belief and success, is being systematically targeted and broken a training session at a time. The one certainty, though, is that if Gatland and Edwards were to claim an unlikely Championship, the two coaches would view it as only an appetiser.
Warren Gatland and Shaun Edwards, in the matter of a month, have altered the entire atmosphere surrounding Welsh rugby. Where Wales go in the short-term should not be exaggerated, but in the long-term few can doubt they are developing into a championship team; one that can be admired for their rugby and respected for their winning. These two squat figures, with deafening tongues and silencing stares, have bought an intensity, an ambition and a hunger - if it has to be said a winning mentality - to a culture which has revelled in the past and done little but dream in the present for so long.
It is a refreshing change for not just Wales but the entire culture of home nations rugby. For years an inferiority complex have pervaded the rugby in Britain and eroded its lowly ambitions.
Scotland, in many ways, have been most affected and have plummeted to the bottom of the barrel where they annually compete with Italy to avoid the indignity of the wooden spoon. But over the past ten years they’ve had a get out clause printed at the end of every performance: their self esteem and ambition has been compromised by a genuine scarcity of talent. It has not so much been a lack of belief but a lack of ability. All this serves to shame the current side greater when they turned out a second string 15 against the All Blacks in the World Cup at a time when they final had some promising players coming through. For a supposedly proud rugby nation the white flag was raised with disturbing swiftness.
Ireland too have epitomised this can’t do attitude. For a time now a team of 15, if not a squad, has been evolving into one of the most talented in world rugby. But when it comes to turning in tangible triumph Ireland have capitulated – no Six Nations championships and a pitiful performance at the World Cup. The knives were suddenly sharpening for O’Sullivan after the narrow win over Italy but one plucky defeat later and all is forgiven. The knives were holstered after a finale against France that ended in defeat but reaffirmed the Irish ‘spirit’. The truth though is that Ireland shunted France all across the park and failed to put away an inexperienced, if talented, French side. Until the Irish are more honest with themselves they will perpetually fall short.
England also have suffered from this disease. In the 1980s and 1990s they bullied the local kids but when it came time to facing up to the bigger kids of New Zealand, South Africa and Australia they threw a token blind-sider and cower for the inevitable pummelling. It was not until the mid-Woodward era that the natural order was revised.
But back to Wales, who have for so long occupied a specific identity in rugby - one for the romantics – which they have endeavoured to reinforce over the past ten years. Running the ball and chucking it about with an enthusiastic skip, they have attempted to adhere to the images of the Welsh sides of the 1970’s, and with some effect. But a mental defect has undermined their efforts. When they won the Championship in 2005 it was celebrated with the gusto that matched its improbability. It was seen as a glorious aberration, a product of circumstance not design, and a moment of wonderful madness to be savoured and emotions to be stored, as it may be many years until it came again. They became so portly from their dining out the following few years have been barren and bitter.
But with Gatland and Edwards at the helm there is a sense, if not a certainty, that the subservient underdog attitude which has for so long afflicted the development of their belief and success, is being systematically targeted and broken a training session at a time. The one certainty, though, is that if Gatland and Edwards were to claim an unlikely Championship, the two coaches would view it as only an appetiser.
Sunday, 17 February 2008
Time to embrace cheating Chambers
There is a swirling embarrassment and unease around Dwain Chambers, but it is time for the officials, former athletes and PR people surrounding athletics to wake up and realise the potential to recast the seedy episode and throw athletics forward.
There is no plausible defence for his actions, and a two years ban does seem lenient for such an act that not only affects the immediate locality of the crime but permeates the rest of the sport also. The rules and subsequent bans should be longer and more stringent. But for all the resentment that surrounds the Chambers’ return, a retrospective justice or sentencing should not be imposed. Chambers has served his sentence, whether adequate or not, time is up on vilification. By lambasting Chambers and the whole episode, officials and former athletes undermine their stance on drug fighting, and the integrity of the laws they create. If insufficient change them.
Chambers is a case for UK athletics to utilise and embrace. The overriding perception among the public is that athletes take drugs because they can get away with it, that testers are one step behind constantly fighting a losing battle, and that on tracks and fields around the world cheats are prospering. Chambers is a chance for athletics to say we won.
The memory of Chambers 2005 is an endorsement for drug-cheat catchers, it suggests that the system can prevail, and there is no harm in officials basking in that rare ray of light in what the public are all to aware is a fumble in the dark. Were no one caught harbouring designer drugs in their bloodstream then every athlete would be presumed a cheat. Catching cheats has become essential to the credibility of the sport – if not then we are all in denial.
With the right words Chambers 2008 can be redeemed, not for his own good but for the wider sport. The winner of the British 60m trials can reinforce the notion that to drug-free athletes can compete and win when not backed by crooked chemists and injecting coaches; a recovered junkie. A legitimate and powerful image for impressionable youngsters that drugs is not the only path to success in the sport. Not only that but officials can validate a voice of depth that is willing to speak out against drugs; A fought right and honest voice cutting through the white noise of denial and innocence which surrounds the dialogue of drugs in sport.
As it is UK athletics have created a monster will not easily ran out of town. They are doing all they can to demonise Chambers and antagonise his brooding bogeyman in a fight that he is not willing to give up quickly. With no end in sight, athletics insistence on displaying its immediate moral outrage placate the potential for long term progress in the drug battle.
Is it time to forgive Chambers?
There is no plausible defence for his actions, and a two years ban does seem lenient for such an act that not only affects the immediate locality of the crime but permeates the rest of the sport also. The rules and subsequent bans should be longer and more stringent. But for all the resentment that surrounds the Chambers’ return, a retrospective justice or sentencing should not be imposed. Chambers has served his sentence, whether adequate or not, time is up on vilification. By lambasting Chambers and the whole episode, officials and former athletes undermine their stance on drug fighting, and the integrity of the laws they create. If insufficient change them.
Chambers is a case for UK athletics to utilise and embrace. The overriding perception among the public is that athletes take drugs because they can get away with it, that testers are one step behind constantly fighting a losing battle, and that on tracks and fields around the world cheats are prospering. Chambers is a chance for athletics to say we won.
The memory of Chambers 2005 is an endorsement for drug-cheat catchers, it suggests that the system can prevail, and there is no harm in officials basking in that rare ray of light in what the public are all to aware is a fumble in the dark. Were no one caught harbouring designer drugs in their bloodstream then every athlete would be presumed a cheat. Catching cheats has become essential to the credibility of the sport – if not then we are all in denial.
With the right words Chambers 2008 can be redeemed, not for his own good but for the wider sport. The winner of the British 60m trials can reinforce the notion that to drug-free athletes can compete and win when not backed by crooked chemists and injecting coaches; a recovered junkie. A legitimate and powerful image for impressionable youngsters that drugs is not the only path to success in the sport. Not only that but officials can validate a voice of depth that is willing to speak out against drugs; A fought right and honest voice cutting through the white noise of denial and innocence which surrounds the dialogue of drugs in sport.
As it is UK athletics have created a monster will not easily ran out of town. They are doing all they can to demonise Chambers and antagonise his brooding bogeyman in a fight that he is not willing to give up quickly. With no end in sight, athletics insistence on displaying its immediate moral outrage placate the potential for long term progress in the drug battle.
Is it time to forgive Chambers?
Thursday, 7 February 2008
Capello: The cultural learning’s of English football.
The challenge haunting Fabio Capello is far greater than anyone could have foreseen.
David Beckham (English for beginnners), David James (Georaphy - special subject penalty areas), Cashley Cole (economics), the squad (touch, skill, technique…. winning etc… etc… etc..) - when Fabio Capello met the players he would have been aware that some schooling was required but he did not known was that whole culture, including press and fans, was in need of education.
England were just 20 minutes of warming their way into Capello’s new era, when Motty and Lawro peering down on proceedings, like Harry Enfield’s two old gits high, cracked. Motson was first to go, his patients spent, as he lambasted England’s lack of blood, thunder and gusto, once a few words of disgust were lodged in ear of Mark Lawrenson, the serial sneerer could not help throw himself off the wagon and bemoan the fact that England were making the Swiss look like world champions. When the two had run out of puff (perhaps guff) the opening quarter stats came through. England had the game – 65% (along with three skilfully crafted clear-cut pportunities). “What does possession ever get you,” scoffed Motty as he screwed up his plastic cup and hurled into the sea of observers.
The poisonous response seeped out among the fans. Capello’s orders were obviously - play football of disciplined ball-retention and careful construction, keep the ball grounded and build momentum. And so England set about stringing, which seemed without end or immediate purpose but the puppeteering of the opposition was aim. This though was clearly torture for the bystanders. Where was the blood, where was the guts. The English game is routed in the convention that a phase of play should know last no longer than a fan can hold his breathe; once your team gains possession you suck-in and see what happens, a shot, a goal, a nothing but always something soon. A gasp and then the opposition takes control, no time to breathe as a roaring tackle careers in, a goal conceded. They wanted high-tempo stuff, guts or glory, hell the both of them.
And so as pass after pass ticked by between the players the murmurs of discomfort stirred in the crowd, anxiety increased, and faces turned blue. The instigator for their final eruption was a pass; backwards into England’s own half, necessary to keep possession, but a prolonging of the pain too far. They could hold their breath and their tongues no longer. And with primary relief the booing began. The press have been similarly scathing.
On the continent they prefer to sip coffee while they contemplate a pass and studiously construct play. An education in sophistication is overdue. England need to go beyond the Hollywood blockbuster and evolve a team capable of dictating a tempo and controlling a game, alongside the potential for burst of flooding intensity. But it’s a doctine that has been rejected before. In the 2006 World cup, without Michael Owen, Sven tried to play a similar formation - with Rooney up top and four-man fluid midfield and a holding player - and instruct a patient, sensitive tempo. It failed possibly because of the personnel, possibly because of its abrupt adoption but clear enough was the supporter’s distaste.
The true test of the Italian's metal is whether he is willing to take on the fans and press.
David Beckham (English for beginnners), David James (Georaphy - special subject penalty areas), Cashley Cole (economics), the squad (touch, skill, technique…. winning etc… etc… etc..) - when Fabio Capello met the players he would have been aware that some schooling was required but he did not known was that whole culture, including press and fans, was in need of education.
England were just 20 minutes of warming their way into Capello’s new era, when Motty and Lawro peering down on proceedings, like Harry Enfield’s two old gits high, cracked. Motson was first to go, his patients spent, as he lambasted England’s lack of blood, thunder and gusto, once a few words of disgust were lodged in ear of Mark Lawrenson, the serial sneerer could not help throw himself off the wagon and bemoan the fact that England were making the Swiss look like world champions. When the two had run out of puff (perhaps guff) the opening quarter stats came through. England had the game – 65% (along with three skilfully crafted clear-cut pportunities). “What does possession ever get you,” scoffed Motty as he screwed up his plastic cup and hurled into the sea of observers.
The poisonous response seeped out among the fans. Capello’s orders were obviously - play football of disciplined ball-retention and careful construction, keep the ball grounded and build momentum. And so England set about stringing, which seemed without end or immediate purpose but the puppeteering of the opposition was aim. This though was clearly torture for the bystanders. Where was the blood, where was the guts. The English game is routed in the convention that a phase of play should know last no longer than a fan can hold his breathe; once your team gains possession you suck-in and see what happens, a shot, a goal, a nothing but always something soon. A gasp and then the opposition takes control, no time to breathe as a roaring tackle careers in, a goal conceded. They wanted high-tempo stuff, guts or glory, hell the both of them.
And so as pass after pass ticked by between the players the murmurs of discomfort stirred in the crowd, anxiety increased, and faces turned blue. The instigator for their final eruption was a pass; backwards into England’s own half, necessary to keep possession, but a prolonging of the pain too far. They could hold their breath and their tongues no longer. And with primary relief the booing began. The press have been similarly scathing.
On the continent they prefer to sip coffee while they contemplate a pass and studiously construct play. An education in sophistication is overdue. England need to go beyond the Hollywood blockbuster and evolve a team capable of dictating a tempo and controlling a game, alongside the potential for burst of flooding intensity. But it’s a doctine that has been rejected before. In the 2006 World cup, without Michael Owen, Sven tried to play a similar formation - with Rooney up top and four-man fluid midfield and a holding player - and instruct a patient, sensitive tempo. It failed possibly because of the personnel, possibly because of its abrupt adoption but clear enough was the supporter’s distaste.
The true test of the Italian's metal is whether he is willing to take on the fans and press.
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