April Week 1 - Countdown

[Sweder]

Ah good, an argument!
I'll take that gauntlet, Andy Old Bean.
Don't forget, I am already on the Dark Side, supporting as I do the Guardians of Football Riches. I have no love for Mr A. He is, allegedly, at best a shady character and at worst an extremely unpleasant man.

However, I can take pleasure from watching young English players like Frank Lampard and John Terry mixing it with the best in Europe. That's good for our National game, and therefore good for the future of the sport as far as the youth of this country is concerned. When those boys turn out for their country the opposition will know they have a battle on their hands. Abramovitch's vast wealth has yet to wash the calluses from their feet; they play as lads in the street do, riches or no, and I grudgingly admire their appetite to win. I'm reminded somewhat of Rollerball. James Caan's character (Jonathan) is a global hero. In reality he's a puppet, the plaything of rich, powerful men who keep the prolls quiet on a diet of blood and hard sport. Despite the lure of comfort and status, and against the wishes of the puppet-masters, Jonathan retains an insatiable, base desire for victory in the arena.

I have a funny feeling the Chelsea bubble will burst before long.
The world that Abramovich inhabits does not run smoothly. If his gains are as ill-gotten as we are led to understand the icy fingers of fate may yet conspire to require his attention elsewhere, hopefully in a dark and lonely Gulag.

I'm sorry, but the Corinthian ideals you associate with Football were discarded long before Russian billionaires took interest in the game. My own club is guilty of flogging shoddy garments prepared by impoverished Asian children to boost the war chest of Old Puceface. Not to mention the crass abuse of the World's finest club competition to take part in a (failed) FIFA Fatcat Fest in South America. The bus routes from the airport were extended by 12 miles to spare the sensitivities of the players as the usual journey would pass sights of abject poverty the authorities would rather the World's sporting press did not see. Yet further back the whole sordid nonsense involving bookmakers and dodgy goalies cast ominous shadows across the sport. Then there was that Colombian lad, executed by gamblers after making a mistake in a World Cup match . . .

By the way, as a Man United follower (I don't qualify as a fan, despite my 38 years allegiance) I'm entitled to support anyone against Bayern. Actually, Kahn does not trouble me so much as the spectre of Lothar Matteus, a pillar of arrogance that would wither Mr Mourinho.

Perhaps this is why I choose to follow football in the raw, huddled in the corner of the Dripping Pan watching the Mighty Rooks hold their own against Dorchester and Weymouth, grimacing at the Gladiatorial carnage of the Eastbourne derby, and relishing the once-in-a-lifetime visit to the Britannia Stadium in the 3rd Round of the FA Cup a few years back to face the Giants of Stoke City.

I didn't know Schadenfraude was playing - did he come off the bench?