Three and in – not just another football blog

In a professional career spanning almost two decades, Simon Smith has played for over sixty-seven clubs. The ultimate utility player, as his pace has diminished Simon has managed to reinvent himself time and again, from poacher to holding midfielder, centre-back to goalkeeper. Now that his website has been closed down, we have exclusive access to his weekly column.

I was as surprised as anyone to see Glenn Hoddle throw his hat into the ring for the vacant England manager’s job. I was similarly (but not quite so) surprised to find out quite how long it has been since he made those comments. They obviously overshadowed his short reign as top managerial dog but that’s hardly surprising. I think that, for me, it’s not so much the comments themselves that I find distasteful; it was the ignorance behind them that was so offensive. ‘England will play in the Christmas tree formation.’ ‘I think that the Christmas tree formation is the way forward for England.’ Even writing those down here make me feel dirty. There were many scapegoats for England’s dismal 2010 World Cup showing but I seemed to be the only one tracing our problems back to those catastrophic two or three games that set us back at least 50 years in terms of tactics.

Maybe this is just one man’s opinion, but I would rather have a manager who is tactically astute and analyses the opposition than one who arranges his players in a shape that he likes. They may look awesome in those aerial shots from the Goodyear Blimp but I think England should be setting their sights higher than that. Perhaps I’m being unfair though. Perhaps Hoddle would be an excellent appointment and we would have great success with a smiley face formation. Who am I to say that his (probable) insistence on a happy puppy playing with a kitten formation won’t get us out of the group stages at the Euros?

Some observers have also raked up his close relationship with Eileen Drewery and some less noteworthy comments he made about karma. Regarding the England job, Hoddle confused me on Monday when he said, ‘If I were to die tomorrow, my life would be incomplete.’ Wasn’t the whole problem that Eileen said everyone gets loads more?! Reincarnation is a complex issue. Roberto Baggio is a practicing Buddhist and I always found it tricky during my time in Italy to convince him to do anything he didn’t want to do. The whole ‘you only live once’ thing doesn’t really hold much water. I believe it’s the same for cats. Fair play to The Divine Ponytail though, he didn’t know a lot of English but he learned enough to utter just one sentence to me. ‘Perhaps in your next life you’ll be reborn as a footballer.’ Cracking banter, that’s the sort of thing only close friends can get away with!

Hoddle is clearly hoping to put his mistakes behind him and is worried that they will not cost him to dearly in the future. It is something that we can all relate to even if we don’t all create absurd paradoxes in our own logic while doing so. A few years ago everything was lined up for me to have a second spell at Luton Town. The bossman was new to the job and I think the chairbossman took a backseat when it came to signings so they were all happy for it to happen and I was keen to lay one or two ghosts to rest at Kennilworth Road. The fans were quick to fill in the bossman and chairbossman about my previous stint and had clearly not yet forgiven me. The protests were intense and very well attended.

I was a striker when I first plied my trade in Bedfordshire and I must say I wasn’t at my most prolific. I had one especially barren run that came to an end at a home match against Wycombe. I buried an easy chance and made straight for the fans. I punched the air and made it clear just how much the goal meant to me. I reached down to stretch my shirt for the badge kiss. I am still not sure what it was that made me sneeze, perhaps I’d overdone the pepper on my pre-match cheese, but I can see how it could have looked like spitting from a distance.

I know I could have done a job in my new role as a midfielder and I often think about what could have been. Absolutely no hard feelings this end and I just hope that Hatters fans have forgiven me now. I’m still available. If you provide the antihistamines then I’ll provide the solid keeper performances!

In other news I see that Wayne Rooney has broken the arm of a fan and it is good to see not only that it was an accident but that he has already been forgiven. Happy the kid is alright and he’ll have a heck of a story for the rest of his life! In actual fact the lad was a United fan in the home stand at Wolves so if anything Wayne was saving the stewards a job as he’d only have been evicted anyway. I know first hand the dangers of away fans sitting in the home end at a ground. More times than I care to recall I have heard boos emanating from ‘our’ fans whenever I touch the ball so clearly the police are doing a pretty shoddy job of separating the supporters. Good on Wazza for taking matters into his own hands.

Must be said that even us pros can be a bit wild when pulling the trigger in those pre-game warm ups! I’m still reminded of the time that one of my looseners ended up in the stands and caught a baby on the head. It must be noted that it was a mishit and also skimmed the advertising boards so it’s not fair to have a go at me about not having enough power in my shot to wake a baby. Admittedly (and thankfully) there was not enough pace on the ball to cause the baby any distress but it did wake her up so those chants were completely inaccurate. I’m not ashamed to say that they got to me a bit and I did miss a few sitters as a result. It was also selfish of me to deliberately over-hit every corner to try and make a point.

One to Watch

Now, I spend a lot of my time absorbing as much football as I can. I love how much Premiership and Football League football coverage there is out there but I also like to scour the more obscure leagues that a lot of people miss. There’s a lot of talent out there waiting to be discovered so I’ll bring you a ‘one to watch’ every now and then. This week: Lionel Messi. He’s only 24 but has already bagged a few goals for Barcelona. I really think he could become a decent player.

Follow me on twitter, @simon9smithpro

Never a year goes by without the future of the current England manager and speculation over his potential replacements dominating at least one slow-sports-news week. It’s a go-to topic, like ‘Fabregas Wanted by Barcelona’, ‘Giggs is Really Quite Good, Have You Noticed?’ or ‘Terry Family Member Questioned by Police Over ——-‘

One of the recent speculators’ favourites, after getting Tottenham into the Champions League for the first time in their history, is the excitable Harry Redknapp.

On the one hand he seems to be a good man-manager, he’s tactically-competent, and has brought several teams from ‘lowly’ positions (as, in some cases, he’ll never tire of reminding us) to arguable over-achievement. And over-achievement is something the national side is yet to sample. You never know – they might like it – the media certainly would.

But for all his white-flag-waving at Manchester City, Harry also spends a lot of money to bring his teams success – not a luxury afforded to national managers – so would the quality at his disposal in the England set-up be enough to work his magic on? There’s certainly plenty there, with a decent crop of youth creeping in already, but would it be enough?

And would he be able to handle the ‘big personalities’? Harry’s got a bit of a history of falling out with players and though he’ll do his best to keep it internal, it’s pretty obvious when players like Bentley and Pavlyuchenko are only justifying big transfer fees by doing an extra-high-quality job of warming the bench. How would he react to being undermined by an ex-captain, or having a star-striker tell him to procreate off? And what if he, god forbid, froze-out a star player during a tournament? How would he handle the media-frenzy at every following draw or loss?

Perhaps the biggest loss he’d have to handle in moving to a high-profile team, would be his pressure-relieving tactic of telling everyone who’ll listen that his team don’t have a chance against their opponents but that they should just get credit for ‘having a go’. I’m not sure that kind of talk would be met with much sympathy when England lined-up against Denmark. Or Belgium. Or Liechtenstein.

It seems that Harry’s real talent really is, like many other lauded managers who suddenly lose all respect as soon as they fail to make the grade in a higher-expectation role (step forward Woy) getting the best out of average players. To take England to the next level we need someone who can get the best out of quality players. Someone the players ‘like’ purely out of fear of upsetting. And as far as I can see, there are only two working managers we’ve seen in the Premiership recently who fit that bill, and one’s far too Scottish to take the job.

I’m sorry to say it English-manager-demanders, it would be great if we had a home-grown manager capable of getting the results we’re all so desperate to finally achieve, but if we want to get anywhere with the current crop of Lamborghini-driving English talent, there’s only one man for the job. And he’s Portuguese.

The press enjoy the debate.  Sky’s Sunday Supplement’s hoard of pundits drool over their croissants the moment the subject comes up.  But does anyone else really care who wears the armband of the national team?

There are few neutrals who didn’t take pleasure in John Terry’s fall from grace a year ago.  The Wayne Bridge stories and subsequent removal of the armband were, let’s face it, funny.

However, the furore around returning the armband to Terry is nothing less than dull.  Let’s look at the bare facts: Rio Ferdinand and Steven Gerrard are both unavailable.  Terry is the natural choice to take the armband, and considering the injury records of his rivals, it probably makes sense to keep it there.

And does it really matter who wears the thing anyway?  In international football, captaincy has long since been a ceremonial role.  But even at club level it is becoming less significant.

Arsene Wenger has long suggested that the armband is a mere symbol – what matters is that the team shows collective leadership and responsibility.  Whilst his own side has generally failed to step up to that idealistic plate, it remains a salient thought.  And it’s not just a foreign school of thought: Alex Ferguson had no qualms about removing the armband from Ferdinand and placing it on Nemanja Vidic.  In the modern game, the iconic skipper has become an increasingly rare motif.

If you are going to create a fuss around a piece of cloth, you might be best to follow the example of Wales manager Gary Speed.  Whatever happens with Terry, he’s unlikely to remain a key component in the side beyond next summer’s European Championships.  In choosing Aaron Ramsey as his captain, Speed has brought stability and direction to his Wales side.

It’ll be interesting to see how their team-mates rally around the respective skippers this Saturday.

One of the stars of this summer’s World Cup, Siphiwe Tshabalala, could be set for a move to English football with the news he’s due to arrive for a trial period at Nottingham Forest.  His agent says:

“There were a couple of Premier League teams who showed an interest but they took too long to get back to me,” he said.

We had to go for the first assessment that we were offered because there is only a limited amount of time for the deal to be done but at least he will be there in the eyes of the UK football scene.

He’s very excited – like all players, he wants to play at the highest level and Siphiwe showed at the World Cup he is capable of that.”

You’ll remember Tshabalala for his stunning goal which opened the World Cup in earnest.  Now, Tshabalala’s arrival would hold particular excitement for me.  Having spent some time out in South Africa last summer (which you can read more about here), a mate and I were lucky enough to bump in to the pocket-sized winger.

I should point out at this juncture that I have doctored this photo to protect this man from the shame of being identified as my friend.  He does not suffer from a hideous facial deformity.  Or, if he does, it’s not the one that the photoshopped image would have you believe.

Anyway, we met in glamorous circumstances: a service station.  Tshabalala was on the road to the semi-final in Durban, and had presumably stopped off for the motorway essentials of petrol and fried chicken.  When we bumped in to him, he had just made a little boy cry by giving him his shorts.  It’s less weird than it sounds.

He seemed to be a pleasant enough guy.  But a word of warning to excited Forest fans: when I asked around about the chances of Tshabalala moving to Europe, many were doubtful about his willingness to ditch the party boy lifestyle he was famous for in Johannesburg.  He has quite the reputation for enjoying the city’s varied nightlife.

Still, if it did happen, it’d certainly be interesting.  From Bafana Bafana to Burnley and Barnsley, and all in a matter of months.

Since the 2018 World Cup was awarded to Russia, England have been up in arms.  There’s been dismay at defeat, followed by renewed accusations of corruption, and even rumours of a breakaway organisation to overthrow football’s world governing body.

One can only wonder: if England had triumphed in this competition, if Prince William had poured Jack Warner enough cups of tea, or David Beckham had given Michel Platini enough sensual back-rubs, would we still be calling for FIFA to be brought to justice?

I don’t believe for a minute that the English bidding team were naive enough not to understand how the committee votes were won and lost.  If they were, all they needed to do was watch Panorama on the Monday night to understand the kind of corruption they were dealing with.  I’m not one to say ‘once a crook, always a crook’, but Jack Warner is a convicted ticket tout.  Fact.  And he’s not the only FIFA delegate with a rubber-stamped, official black mark against his name.

The one foreign vote England did win, that of Issa Hayatou, was from a man in the line of Panorama’s fire.  And how did that come about?  Because the FA promised to back him in his bid to take over from Sepp Blatter.

England may not have followed Russia and Quatar’s alleged lead by offering cash for votes.  But equally it’s not as if they launched their bid on its technical facets alone.  They committed to friendlies all over the world in a bid to win global favour.  These would have brought revenue, as would their ‘Football United’ policy.  Whilst there’s no suggestion they were attempting to line the pockets of individuals, the message was simple: vote for us, and your federation will benefit financially.

As soon as there was the slightest sniff of corruption, England’s bid should have been withdrawn.  Now, having lost, legitimate accusations sound like nothing more than sour grapes.  By participating in a charade of a system we have lost the moral high-ground.

Our presence among the bidders endorsed what we already knew to be a flawed, corrupt process.  Like Eurovision, with more old men in suits.  To point fingers at men we were so keen to woo just a matter of days ago is hypocritical in the extreme.

Still, it’s not all doom and gloom.  It is better to be a nation with a honest and free-spoken press than to host a World Cup.  It’s right that the truth was told – it’s just a shame that ethics of the bid committee only became an issue once we were defeated.

Fulham fans are a tame bunch.  Their reputation for middle-class niceness precedes them.  One half expects them to turn up at games with a picnic hamper under one arm, and an order form for a Wills & Kate Commemorative Plate under the other.  It’s rare to see them embroiled in any sort of nastiness or controversy.  Which is why their actions at the Emirates Stadium on Saturday were so surprising.

Instead of their usual polite clapping and twirling of rattles you thought had vanished from football grounds in the 1950s, every time Andrey Arshavin got on the ball they would join as an unruly chorus to boo him.

Why, you wonder? What had he done to so upset the Fulham fans.

Well, this:

And no, I don’t mean that he composed the electro horror that accompanies the start of the video.  What offended them so much was Arshavin’s speech in the second half of that film, and its assumed impact on Russia’s victory in the 2018 World Cup bid – and England’s subsequent defeat.

It’s just a collection of honest, humble words from a guy who simply wants the best for his country.  It’s not as if he’ll get to play in the World Cup on his home turf.  When asked if he expected to make the squad for 2018, aged 37, Arshavin quipped:

“I have no chance.  Plus, if I can play then it means Russia will have a bad team, so I hope not.”

He’s right.  At times, Arshavin looks as if he won’t last eighty minutes, so another eight years would be a bit ambitious.

Booing Arshavin for England’s failures is a symptom of the same conceit and sense of entitlement that sees English squads perform so badly in tournaments, wherever they’re staged.

What’s more, the Fulham fans are directing their ire at the wrong man.  Arshavin didn’t make the decision himself, and it’s probably fair to say his speech had little impact on the voting.  Those decisions were made long ago, and were probably more influenced by Roubles than Rhetoric.

DATELINE: December 2019

Breaking news: There was shock and outrage today as it was announced that the 2030 World Cup is to be held in outer space.

After a series of bids and presentations FIFA executives voted to hold the tournament on oil rich Mars which was colonised just 8 months ago. As yet there isn’t a single football stadium on the Dubai/Texas owned planet but architects drawings and some sincere sounding promises from men in robes and cowboy hats were enough to convince Sepp Blatter and his henchmen.

FIFA say fans will love the atmosphere

“This is a momentous day for the sport”, said Blatter, rolling around a gilded bed, gently fingering one of the four naked women provided to him by the Mars delegation. “For years we’ve dreamed of taking football to another planet and finally it’s happened”.

FIFA have rejected claims from the unsuccessful countries that the World Cup will be inaccessbile to fans saying that they have personally developed a safe method of interplanetary travel and packages would be available from all FIFA approved travel agents.

“WTF?!”, twittered England’s bid ambassador Rio Ferdinand, “Sum 1 needs 2 bitch slap Blatter”, while King David and Queen Victoria were said to be ‘not amused’ by the decision.

However, one leading sports analyst said that such a move was inevitable. Peregrine Groves, of Groves, Caesar and Woodcock, said”Look, the minute they started doing stupid stuff like having tennis matches on the top of skyscrapers we were moving into this kind of territory. And the Qatar decision only aided this. If you can have a World Cup in a desert then Mars is not really such a stretch. At least you can have a beer on the red planet”.

FIFA has long been dogged with accusations of corruption and lack of transparency. The decision to retrospectively award the 1966 World Cup to Germany after technology proved that Geoff Hurst’s shot didn’t cross the line caused great controversy in 2017 while debate still rages as to why video replays still can’t be used when it is clear Platini’s ‘One ref per player’ scheme has caused more harm than good.

Without wanting to take anything away from Jay Bothroyd, who must be delighted with his call up to the England squad, doesn’t it say a lot that a Championship player is in the squad at all?

Bothroyd is described by John Cross, Daily Mirror football writer, as ‘a Premier League star in waiting‘. Yet Bothroyd is no bright young thing, no emerging talent. He’s an experienced but limited pro best known for the way he threw a strop at Arsenal and put paid to any chance of making it with the Gunners. Since then he’s gone from pillar to post, playing for Coventry City, Perugia, Blackburn Rovers, Charlton, Wolves, Stoke and now Cardiff City.

He’s scored an impressive 13 league goals so far this season but with the caveat that these are goals in the Championship. The list of players who score frequently in that league yet fail to do so when they make the step up to the Premier League is long indeed. Let’s face it, Bothroyd is one of them, he’s had his chances in the top flight and failed to make an impact. The Championship appears to be his level.

When you think back to the days when England had Shearer, Sheringham, Wright, Fowler, Ferdinand etc, strikers of real and proven quality, the paucity of options that sees Capello turn turn to a journeyman Championship player, even if it is for a friendly, says a lot about the state of English football talent right now.

It was supposed to be a fresh start.  A shiny new era, lit up by the as-yet-untainted youth of Adam Johnson, Theo Walcott, and Jack Wilshere.  Fabio Capello promised an England squad shorn of deadweight and fuelled by the enthusiasm of a new generation, and the early signs were good.  In the absence of David James, Rio Ferdinand and Emile Heskey, the likes of Joe Hart, Phil Jagielka and Jermaine Defoe all made a positive impression.  Progress and evolution were in the offing.

So what, in God’s name, is Kevin Davies doing in the current England squad?

I’m not questioning his value as a player.  He has matured in to a dependable Premier League forward, a nuisance to any defence, and an aerial threat.  But in March, Davies will turn 34.  By the time Euro 2012, he’ll be 35 – the same age that Fabio Capello recently called “too old” in reference to David Beckham.  At a time when we’re supposed to be building for the future, is this kind of pragmatic short-termism what we need?  And if it is, what does ‘needing’ Davies say about the state of English football?

Perhaps more disturbing than Davies’ call-up is the fact that he wasn’t Capello’s first-choice.  Just a couple of months after his international retirement, Emile Heskey found himself on the receiving end of the customary pleading call from Franco Baldini, asking him to reverse his decision.  Like Paul Scholes before him, Heskey declined, possibly feeling his improved form for Villa is due in part to taking the weight of international football off his broad shoulders.  But the fact that Heskey was called back in to action, after just one significant injury to Defoe, is mighty worrying.

Davies’ presence is made all the more surprising by the availability of a younger, similar alternative in Newcastle’s Andy Carroll.  Come 2014, he’s surely far more likely to make the squad than the Bolton striker.

Capello’s squad selections are becoming increasingly irrational and unpredictable.  What has Joe Cole done in the last month to warrant a call up?  What has Gary Cahill done wrong to deserve being dropped?  And why are we spending time ‘developing’ a 33-year old striker who in all likelihood won’t be around to play tournament football in 18 months time?

Maybe it seems trite to call him that, given the fact he’s just a football manager, but the Dutchman has taken a courageous stance and one that is, for most part, unprecedented in modern football.

When Nigel de Jong broke Hatem Ben Arfa’s leg with what was clearly a reckless and dangerous tackle the pundits on ESPN brushed it off as ‘one of those things’. Nicky Butt and Kevin Keegan were the men in question and once again it’s a demonstration of a lack of understanding in the English game when it comes to violent play.

Neither of them could see any reason to condemn de Jong because they simply don’t understand that what he did was dangerous. To them it was just a good old fashioned challenge and Ben Arfa’s injury was just an unfortunate and unavoidable consequence of that. They couldn’t be more wrong. De Jong can’t tackle, he thinks any genuine attempt to get the ball or man is ok, but it’s not. Ask Stuart Holden, the US international whose leg he broke earlier this year. Ask Xabi Alonso who got de Jong’s studs in his chest in the World Cup final.

It was inevitable that he would cause somebody a serious injury in the Premier League and so it was yesterday. And he got away with it. No card, yellow or red, and the so-called ‘experts’ couldn’t see anything wrong with what he did. The rest of us weren’t so easily fooled, nor was the Holland manager who promptly dropped de Jong from his squad, saying:

I’ve seen the pictures back. It was a wild and unnecessary offence. He went in much too hard. It is unfortunate, especially since he does not need to do it. The funny thing is that the referee did not even show a yellow card for it. Apparently, there are other standards. But I have a problem with the way Nigel needlessly looks to push the limit. I am going to speak to him.

Stand up and give that man a round of applause. Managers are far too quick to excuse their own players failings. Even as Mick McCarthy said he had no complaints about Karl Henry’s latest horror tackle he tried to dimiss the reaction of the player who had been poleaxed as theatrical. And how vomit-inducing was it to hear the pundits on Match of the Day tut-tut at his sending off against Wigan when just a few weeks ago they were chuckling to themselves at his treatment of Joey Barton. They were complicit in his latest assault.

Perhaps Van Marwijk’s decision is the start of something positive. Perhaps he won’t be ridiculed or accused of trying to ‘do away’ with tackling. Perhaps he’ll be seen as someone who took a stand against the kind of player nobody should condone but which far too many do.

Fingers crossed.