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Showing posts with label Davy Lewis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Davy Lewis. Show all posts

Thursday, 1 May 2014

Champs League - Cibeles & Neptune celebrate

     On Monday, Madrid's city council announced that both the Cibeles and Neptune fountains would be cordoned off ahead of this week's Champions League semifinals in case either or both of Real and Atlético Madrid won through to the final. Some may have thought this slightly presumptuous, others foolhardy, but in the end the gamble paid off. On Tuesday night hundreds of Real Madrid fans congregated, as has become customary in times of celebration, by the Fuente de Cibeles, while on Wednesday they were joined by Atleti fans a short walk away at the Fuente de Neptuno.
     The next real problem for the council will be when the two teams face each other in the final on May 24. Although the match itself is being held some 503km away in Lisbon, the place to be - the only place to be, will be Madrid. An advert for Mahou beer which began airing on Wednesday suggested rather naively that if both teams end up in the final, their fans should all merge happily at the Fuente de Apolo which conveniently sits smack-bang between the two clubs' adopted celebration spots. Not much chance of that happening I'd say. I also imagine the policía won't thank the beer firm for its suggestion.

     Real reached their first Champions League final in 12 years and took one step closer to la Décima - the 10th European Cup which has turned into an obsession within the club - by humiliating Bayern Munich on what proved to be a record-breaking evening. Madrid's 1-0 win in the first leg left the tie finely poised, the players aware that if they kept a clean sheet they would progress. But this team was not made to sit back and defend; Real's 'signature move' is the lightning-fast counter-attack, and the team stayed true to its methods. If they scored one, Bayern would have to score two; if they scored two, Bayern would have to score three; and if they scored three, the Germans would have to beat San Iker an unthinkable four times. In the end, even this feat would not have proved enough to save the Bavarians after a powerful Cristiano Ronaldo free kick at the death made the score 4-0 to los Blancos. At the Allianz Arena. It was Bayern's heaviest ever home defeat in European competition. It was also the worst defeat of Guardiola's career.
Guardiola: "I read in Madrid that
they're already in the CL final"
YOU READ RIGHT
     The week had started with the Munich coach in bullish mood in the press, confident of his team's chances of getting through to the final. He's been in football long enough to know that a 1-0 first leg victory is easily overturned, and will have recalled Bayern crushing Barcelona 7-0 on aggregate at this stage of the competition last year. However by the end of the game on Tuesday the Catalan was being lambasted by fans, who booed his decision to replace the hard-working but ineffective Thomas Müller with rotund Chelsea reject Claudio Pizarro in the 72nd minute. By that point though, the game had long been over as a contest.
     In truth, the referee could have ended the game at half time and the German fans would have been grateful. Real were already three goals to the good and could well have been even further in front. Bayern's tactics seemed to play into Madrid's hands and the Spanish team were 2-0 up before 20 minutes had shown up on the board, both goals coming from the same source - the flat forehead of Sergio Ramos. It seemed the Munich defence had decided that marking the opposition's most potent aerial threat was beneath them and twice the Andalusian stole in unmarked to smash the ball home with that slab above his suspiciously small eyes - the first after 15 minutes from a perfect Modrić corner, the second from an Ángel di María free kick Madrid were fortunate to win just four minutes later. I was left to curse my luck for not finding time to get to BetFred before the game as I fancied Ramos at 25-1 for the first goal. For those that don't know, his odds would have then doubled, leaving me with £50 profit for even a poxy £1 bet. Fiddlesticks.
Karaoke. Madrid-style
     Far more lucky than I was Ramos himself who, quite apart from scoring his side's first two goals, was walking a tightrope with a booking to his name before the match - were he to get carded during the game, the centre-back would miss the final through suspension. If you thought that he'd therefore take things easy and stand off a bit, you'd be dead wrong. And if you thought he'd be hauled off at half-time with his team winning 3-0 and almost certainly through, you'd be wrong again. Sucks to be you, if that's the case. The Seville native was in the frame every single time there were any verbals or handbags between the two sets of players in the first half, leaving Ancelotti's eyebrow squirming in discomfort until it had seen enough and finally hooked the Madrid number 4 in the 74th minute.
     Unfortunately for Real, Xabi Alonso was neither as lucky nor as clever in the challenge as his teammate, and he will now miss the final after receiving a booking for a silly, needless tackle on 37 minutes. The player was absolutely devastated, left lying on the turf and wishing he could turn back time. If it didn't work for Cher, it sure as hell ain't gonna work for you, matey, excellent red beard or not. The midfielder's dismay will not have been helped by CR7, who was still berating him for his idiocy as they lined up in the wall to block the resulting free kick.
CR7 eventually realised he didn't have
enough hands to count to 15
     What made the yellow card even worse was that Real Madrid already had the tie in the bag by that point, Ronaldo breaking the record for the highest amount of goals in a Champions League season with his 15th in the competition just after the half-hour mark. As in the first leg, Madrid countered from within their own box and ended up scoring within a matter of seconds. However, whereas their goal at the Bernabéu took ten touches from end to end, their third on the night at the Allianz Arena took just nine, presumably because they didn't use Pepe's arse at any point this time. Lessons learned and all that. On the halfway line a beautiful ball once more from the hard-working Karim Benzema fed Gareth Bale who scorched towards goal before dumbfounding both Dante and Manuel Neuer with a cute reverse pass to Ronaldo with his wrong foot. The Portuguese made no mistake from just within the area, although Neuer will be angry with himself for allowing the ball to slip under his body.
     Bayern Munich had started to lose their discipline after the second goal and their bad mood just got worse the longer the contest went on, typified by Franck Ribéry slapping Dani Carvajal while the referee wasn't looking. Before the game Guardiola claimed that the Frenchman - like a smaller, pinker version of the Incredible Hulk - is at his best when he's angry. Despite a couple of short runs, the tricky winger resembled a pedestrian Bruce Banner rather than his green alter ego on the night. Conversely, Mario Mandžukić was a thorn in Real's side, albeit not with his footballing ability. The giant Croatian was seemingly tasked with sticking to Pepe and intercepting the Madrid number 3 any time he looked like provoking a riot.
Even Alonso's in there somewhere
     Guardiola appeared to have a bit of a rethink at half time and, deciding that stopping Pepe from inciting violence on the terraces wasn't his overriding priority, took off his striker in order to bring on Javi Martínez. Although a seemingly puzzling move, the substitution actually served to steady the boat for the Bavarian side and made them look far more of a team than the rabble they had started the match as. The Bayern coach conceded after the game that he'd been at fault and would take the blame for his players' poor performance. He need not have rushed to reproach himself though - the German papers were way ahead of him. Be that as it may, Real Madrid looked to be settling for the 3-0 scoreline until the last minute of normal time, when CR7 stepped up and smashed a free kick beneath the wall to record his 16th Champions League goal in just 10 games. It was also his 51st in 50 European games for los Merengues. Real Madrid are also now the team to have scored the most Champions League goals in a single season. So, like I said at the start, record breaking.

Mou's tactics board vs Liverpool
     The only thing broken at Stamford Bridge 24 hours later - apart from the public transport system - was John Terry; the Chelsea captain left sobbing like a lost child in a department store after Liga leaders Atlético Madrid handed a few stern lessons to the repeatedly and loudly self-proclaimed 'Champions of Europe'. José Mourinho has developed a reputation for 'parking the bus,' most recently taking 3 points from Anfield in a game where his tactics seemed to be simply to sit back with 10 men behind the ball and wait for Liverpool to screw up. Boring as hell, but then again he came away with a victory over the league leaders so he won't mind the criticism.
     On Wednesday though, Mou acted out of character and made an attacking substitution early on in the second half, taking off Ashley Cole - who's beard was not a touch on that sported by Arda Turan - and bringing on Samuel Eto'o. Most uncharacteristic. It appeared the Portuguese had blinked first in his staring contest with Cholo Simeone, although to be fair there's not many in the world mad enough to actually get into a staring competition with the perennially black-shirted Argentine. By that point in the game the 1-1 scoreline was weighted in Atleti's favour following the 0-0 stalemate at the Vicente Calderón last week.
     Atlético, resembling Olympiakos more than usual after having to dump their normal Blackburn-inspired blue shorts for red ones due to stupid modern-football stipulations about kit clashes, started with the fit-again Arda Turan but minus both Gabi and Raúl García and consequently struggled to impose themselves on the game in the early stages. The fear among the spectators in the ground was that they were set to watch another insipid 0-0 draw heading inexorably to penalties, and apart from dives from Diego Costa and Chelsea survivalist Ray Mears the only thing to enliven the opening 30 minutes was an audacious bicycle-kick from emotionally stunted man-boy-mop Davy Lewis.
Maybe he'd forgotten how to celebrate?
     The 3,000 travelling fans had kicked up a ruckus for the entire game, absolutely dominating the subservient home crowd, but los Colchoneros were silenced in the 36th minute. The lively and inventive Willian wriggled free from two challenges tight to the corner flag before César Azpilicueta delivered the ball in to former Atleti fan and wunder-kind Fernando Torres who finished with aplomb. And a healthy deflection off a defender. As is currently all the rage, el Niño held up his hands and refused to celebrate scoring against his boyhood club, but the Chelsea players and fans in attendance had no such quandaries and celebrated with great vim. Nonetheless, Atleti's task remained the same as it had at the outset and the team knew one goal would still be enough to see them through to the final.
Olympiakos Atleti players celebrate
in front of the travelling thousands
     That goal duly arrived right on the stroke of half time. The impressive if slightly raggedy-looking Tiago chipped a delicious ball across the box that looked for all the world like it was heading out for a goal kick but was kept in play by Juanfran. The right-back played like a train all evening, and just managed to keep the ball in play by hooking it across the face of goal - it flashed past two Chelsea defenders and arrived at a mildly surprised-looking Adrián. The man from Teverga only has one league goal to his name this season but didn't fail from a few yards out, his shot careering into the floor before bouncing into the back of the net right in front of the Atleti fans, who proceeded to go mental. After the game the man with the wide smile and the number 7 on his back described it as "the most important goal of my career". Advantage Atlético.
     The Chelsea manager's decision to replace Cole with Eto'o at the start of the second half did have an impact on the game, just not the one he would've wanted. Within 10 minutes of coming on, the former Real Madrid and Barcelona player committed a lazy forward's challenge on Diego Costa as the striker controlled a high corner, and referee Nicola Rizzoli duly pointed to the spot. Diego Costa dusted himself off and placed the ball down to take the resulting penalty himself. Then he placed it again. And again. Growing increasingly frustrated at the ball's refusal to either stay still or out of a hole the Brazilian pawed at the turf and eventually drew a yellow card from the ref, who assumed he was playing mind games. Costa eventually placed the ball at the bottom of the hole he'd dug then stepped up and rocketed it into the roof of the net. His unstoppable spot-kick made it 2-1 on the hour mark. Match point Atlético.
A sea of red in the corner of Stamford Bridge
     At this point los Rojiblancos were running the game entirely and impudently passing through and around Chelsea at their leisure. The suffering home fans were even subjected to a chorus of olés from the away end during one particularly attractive period of possession. Ten minutes after Costa's penalty, Atlético put the game to bed and secured passage to their first European Cup final since 1974. A lovely flowing move ended with a peach of a cross being curled into the far post where the late-arriving Arda Turan played a one-two with the crossbar before slotting his side's third goal. Checkmate: Game, set and match Atlético.
     Chelsea weren't terrible but were outclassed by their opponents, albeit with the help of a fortunate first goal to allow them back into the match. Willian played well for the Blues but by far their most dangerous player was the effervescent Eden Hazard, only just back from injury. Conversely, most of the men wearing red and white played out of their skins; Tiago, Arda Turan, Koke and Juanfran to the fore. With a few minutes remaining the home fans roused themselves enough for a chorus in support of their manager in spite of the defeat, but were then outsung by the Atleti fans who responded with "José Mourinho, hijo de puta" belted out with great gusto.
He cries when he wants, he cries when he waaaaants,
brave John Terry, he cries when he wants
     Upon the final whistle the away section went crazy and their players went over to celebrate with them. Luckily the cameras managed to spot John Terry wandering forlornly around the pitch and lingered with the image for a few seconds before cutting to an ad break. I'd like to think whoever was in charge of the coverage overruled the companies who had paid for advertising time and delayed going to the break. Despite the fact they'd reached the first Champions League final in their lives, a few Atleti players took the time to commiserate the Chelsea skipper. You can bet your bottom dollar, euro, peseta or lira that Terry would not have done so had the roles been reversed. The Atleti players showed what class is, there. As for myself, I have no qualms where it comes to this player and will freely admit I laughed my arse off at the images on my screen. As did probably another 89% of the country. Unconfirmed reports have surfaced since the game that Terry has asked his mum to nick him full Real and Atlético Madrid kits from Sports Direct...
     Mourinho was in uncharacteristically charitable mood after the game and congratulated Atlético Madrid on an excellent game, conceding they had deserved to go though. And for once, I actually think he was being sincere. For his part Cholo Simeone congratulated his players' mothers - as his whole squad had been born with "massive balls". The London underground had started running once more before the final whistle blew, but I got the distinct impression the Spanish fans were in no rush to leave Stamford Bridge.

     The two results mean that this year's edition will be the fifth European Cup final to be contested between two sides from the same country. Even more importantly, it will be the first ever decider in which two rivals from the same city will face off. It'll be interesting to see how they work out the fountain situation: The football will be played in Lisbon, but within the football world all eyes will be on Madrid.



Friday, 25 April 2014

European semis & character assassinations

     Madrid was the centre of the Europe-centric footballing world this week as the Vicente Calderón and Santiago Bernabéu held the first leg matches of the Champions League semi finals. One of these is far more used to these big European nights under the floodlights than the other, but both stadia and sets of fans put on a grand spectacle.
     So...that Atlético Madrid/Chelsea game on Tuesday. What on earth can be said apart from that it was pretty bloody boring? For the first time in a couple of years it really dawned on me how much I missed having real, actual friends. If I had any I'd have been able to go to the cinema with them, go to the pictures, or even just call them up and listen to them moan about the bastard weather rather than watch the full 90 minutes of this drek. Still, to give the home crowd their due, they were bang up for it and created one holy hell of a racket. However, try as they might their players couldn't rise to the same level due to the opposition parking not one but an entire fleet of buses in front of goal.
Chelsea's tactics
In actual fact, it wasn't until around lunchtime on Wednesday that the majority of people in London managed to get in to work, so crippled was the capital's public transport service by the loss of 85% of its buses. Tube workers have now decided to go on strike next week just to make sure all the buses are in use so Mourinho can't station any more at one end of the Stamford Bridge pitch. You might well ask why London commuters didn't take the Tube last Tuesday, but if that's the case then you've never been on a London Underground train in rush hour during a strike and I'm jealous of you. I only managed to get into work before midday because I cycled, but still got in late as the game was so mind-molestingly boring that I ended up falling into a catatonic slumber so deep that it carried on right through two alarms in the morning. Turns out "Chelsea boring the arse off me" is not considered an acceptable excuse for turning up four hours late for work.. Look, I accept it's a case of horses for courses and some will argue the ends justify the means, but for pity's sake football's supposed to be about entertainment! Surely even the most ardent Chelsea fan must want to employ a bit of style, panache, attacking intent and interest at the same time as picking up three points away from home??
     I exaggerate of course, if only slightly. There were a couple of interesting things about Chelsea on Tuesday night, the first being John Obi Mikel's hair: what the pus-spewing hell was that on his head?! I can only assume it was a failed post-modernist attempt at the pineapple of Jason Lee fame. Awful. Hopefully someone showed him a mirror after the match so he knows how much of a tit he looked. The only other interesting thing was Davy Lewis rampaging around the place like a steroid-crazed floor mop on heat. Whoever told this guy he's a defender should really own up and let him in on the joke. He generally tears around the place like some kind of electrocuted idiot-savant child whose sole discernible skill is elbowing the world. I've seen some bad defenders in my time but Davy Lewis really is up there with the worst of them, not so much for talent alone as he's a reasonably tidy footballer when he forgets who he is, but because he really thinks he's a good defender. Davy, two things; one - you're a footballer but not a defender. And two - get a haircut for Christ's sake. Actually three - take Mikel with you when you go down the barber's.
Luiz performing comedy football for the masses
     The #comedydefender was up to his usual tricks in the first half and even succeeded in injuring his own goalkeeper with a particularly idiotic piece of defending. As an Atleti corner was swung in, Lewis stuck to the run of Raúl García before shoving him as hard as he could straight into Petr Čech, who landed awkwardly and had to be replaced by veteran long-arm man Mark Schwarzer. The Czech stopper will not play another game for Chelsea this season. How the Stamford Bridge hierarchy must be kicking themselves now for allowing the excellent Thibaut Courtois to rejoin their opponents here for a third successive season. Still only 21, Chelsea really must make their mind up on the impressive young 'keeper. He's already stated before that he needs to be considered Number One and will surely need to either replace Čech next year or move on.
     Widely reviled captain, leader, racist John Terry also later hobbled off and is expected to miss the second leg, although supremely talented wing-gnome Eden Hazard should have recovered fully from his latest setback by then. The problem for CFC with the injuries starting to take their toll is that they still have to contend for the Premier League as well. With Terry injured, the Blues could see Cahill having to rely on disaster zone Davy Lewis for company and indeed comedy at the back. Gaffes galore one would think, especially with Luis Suárez and Daniel Sturridge up next on Sunday. Jungle survivor Ray Mears will also miss the rest of their league games this season after admitting to copying Davy Lewis and elbowing Sebastian Larsson in the Sunderland game.

     When I woke up eventually from my Mourinho-induced slumber I prayed fervently that the next night's match would actually break out into football, and I wasn't disappointed. Bayern Munich attacked heavily and in numbers, albeit rather slowly, while Real Madrid looked to pick them off on the counter with lightning fast breaks and direct passing. The two philosophies coming together will always make for an interesting spectacle, and so it proved at the Bernabéu. The stats at half time read that Real had completed a mere 91 passes compared to Bayern's 402, but happily football is played on grass rather than computer printouts, and by that time los Blancos were 1-0 to the good.
     Ten touches was all it took for Real to get from one end of the field to the other. Ten. And that included Pepe's arse blocking a shot in the Madrid area to start the move and Benzema's knock into an empty net after two perfect passes from Ronaldo and then, unexpectedly, Fábio Coentrão. This was another example of ruthless, lightning-quick football on the break, Madrid-style. Give me that over Barcelona's tiki-taka under Guardiola any day for pure adrenaline and excitement. Although I could well do without Pepe's 'aargh I'm dying' comedy roadshow, which plays to a new set of fans every week. He is undoubtedly a very good defender, unfortunately he's also an unashaméd arsehole most of the time. Having said that, if Bayern didn't want to put the ball out of play every time he crumpled embarrassingly to the ground, they didn't have to. If Howard Webb thought the Real number 3 was injured he could stop play himself.
Karim of the crop (I'll get me coat...)
     To look at the statistics at the end of the game, football hipsters would no doubt conclude that Bayern must have absolutely crushed Real, having somewhere near 99% of possession along with many thousands more passes. In fact the opposite is true. Madrid had far less of the ball and racked up but a percentage of the Germans' passes, but could have conceivably won the game by four or five goals to one. They had far and away the better chances, and that may indeed be their main worry ahead of the second leg - they only managed to take advantage of one opportunity, their players shooting wildly when well placed to make Manuel Neuer work. The most amazing numbers on the night possibly came from CR7 who, fresh from being named one of the '100 most influential people in the world' and just about 60% fit, only had 16 touches all game. Not passes - 16 touches of the ball throughout the entire game before being subbed. And yet he did not have a bad game, far from it. Of those 16 touches, five were shots, four of which were on target. The one that wasn't on target was a sitter one-on-one that hopefully will not come back to haunt the men in white. Bayern appealed heavily for a penalty right at the death after Xabi Alonso tackled Thomas Müller as the German was about to shoot five yards out. Replays showed it was a brilliant tackle from the Spaniard, just brushing the ball away before Müller could connect. Alonso was just shaded to my man of the match vote by Luka Modrić, who is increasingly coming to resemble Sally Gunnell on crack - it can't just be me that sees this, surely? The miniature schemer was to be found all over the pitch and constantly backed his own skill in tight situations. Admittedly, the one time he lost the ball in a dangerous area Bayern should have levelled, Mario Götze shooting close enough to Iker Casillas to allow the 'keeper to get a strong wrist on the ball and set the whole stadium to singing his name. Real had a lucky escape there, as they really needed to keep a clean sheet ahead of the return leg in Bavaria on Tuesday. Nevertheless, when Howard Webb in the middle blew his whistle for full-time, the only statistic that mattered was the score, which read 1-0 to la Real.

     In the all-Spanish Europa League semifinal, Sevilla took a 2-0 lead at home in the first leg courtesy of a cheeky (not to mention lucky) backheeled goal from coconut-headed high-diver extraordinaire Stéphane Mbia and a customary tidy finish from Carlos Bacca. The highlight for me has to be Valencia's away kit though. A real thing of beauty, that, although it's probably an epileptic's worst nightmare.
Klopp and Pep are told the news
     Some hilarious transfer news came from nowhere, meanwhile, with Yahoo claiming Manchester United are preparing "a lucrative deal" to sign Messi at the end of the season. Really? Come on guys, you're nearly a whole month late for April fools' day. Yes ok, the little fella's not been himself lately, but then the venerable red half of Manchester hasn't exactly been pulling up forests since Old Purple Nose left, has it? In fact, the funnier news was probably that the bigwigs at Old Trafford had lined up a shortlist of managers to replace David Moyes which included Ancelotti, Pep Guardiola, Jürgen Norbert Klopp and Ancelotti's eyebrow. Now that is either laughable, deluded or comedy genius. I don't have a crystal ball and couldn't predict my way out of a paper bag on a rainy day, but I will tell you now that none of those four will be at Old Trafford next season. If I'm wrong I'll eat my hat. As a disclaimer, I should point out that my hat is made out of salt & vinegar crisps. Actually, I kind of hope I am wrong now..
     In sad news back in the real world though, rumours began flying around the Twittersphere and were later confirmed in the Spanish papers that former Barcelona coach Tito Vilanova was admitted to hospital in the city on Thursday night as his condition deteriorated. Of course our best wishes go to him.

                                                                  Edit

Just an hour after publishing this post it emerged that Tito Vilanova has died in hospital. He was only 45 years old when throat cancer finally claimed him. RIP Tito, decances en paz.