Mumorn
Vic Buckingham
When? Was it because he scored more goals? If so, does that make Grant Holt a better player than Torres?
-
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The midweek/weekend games thread
- Thread starter Greg
- Start date
When? Was it because he scored more goals? If so, does that make Grant Holt a better player than Torres?
i really want to make a Torres joke but I just know he'll end up scoring the winner on Sunday if I do.
Torres was the better player for large portion of the time from around late 2007 to late 2009. Took a mighty dump at Euro 2008 as well
Mumorn
Vic Buckingham
I personally thought it was all Gerrard to be fair, complimented him really well, made him look much better than he was, then again that is just my opinion, I still think Villa was and always has been the better player.
PochettinoPochettinoPochettino
Serge Aurier
He 'scoops' it from underneath with a flat foot while keeping his knee straight or something very similar to that. His very own technique and requires massive strength - try it some time - might pull a ligament though
no better time to try than it my final game of the season this Sunday eh? will give me time to recuperate for next season!
Nicolas Anelka makes shock move into management at Chineses side Shanghai Shenhua
Nicolas Anelka has been added to the Shanghai Shenhua coaching staff amid reports in French media that manager Jean Tigana is sacked.
Shenhua have won just one of their opening five games in the Chinese Super League.
Anelka, 33, was handed his new role after Shanghai dismissed the team's coaching staff, following their dismal run.
Shenhua have confirmed the sackings, but no mention has been made of Tigana, prompting speculation he too has been axed. Reports suggest Tigana is now negotiating a severance package.
A Shenhua club statement read: "Due to the team's recent record which has not met the expectations and demands of the club's fans, media and other parties and the fact the foreign players are in urgent need of high-quality training the club has made the decision to replace some members of the coaching staff.
"The club will introduce four coaches from the United Kingdom and France to join the coaching staff to provide the necessary training support to ensure the competitive state of the players.
"In addition, the team captain Nicolas Anelka will coach and participate in the team's daily training management."
The Oriental Sports Daily newspaper claims the club have already hired four new coaches as replacements.
Former Tottenham keeper Ian Walker, who will work with the goalkeepers, and Birmingham fitness coach Dan Harris join as new assistants, as do two Frenchmen - Alioune Kissima Toure and Jean-Florent Ikwange Ibenge, according to the newspaper.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/football/9199507/Nicolas-Anelka-makes-shock-move-into-management-at-Chineses-side-Shanghai-Shenhua.html
Nicolas Anelka has been added to the Shanghai Shenhua coaching staff amid reports in French media that manager Jean Tigana is sacked.
Shenhua have won just one of their opening five games in the Chinese Super League.
Anelka, 33, was handed his new role after Shanghai dismissed the team's coaching staff, following their dismal run.
Shenhua have confirmed the sackings, but no mention has been made of Tigana, prompting speculation he too has been axed. Reports suggest Tigana is now negotiating a severance package.
A Shenhua club statement read: "Due to the team's recent record which has not met the expectations and demands of the club's fans, media and other parties and the fact the foreign players are in urgent need of high-quality training the club has made the decision to replace some members of the coaching staff.
"The club will introduce four coaches from the United Kingdom and France to join the coaching staff to provide the necessary training support to ensure the competitive state of the players.
"In addition, the team captain Nicolas Anelka will coach and participate in the team's daily training management."
The Oriental Sports Daily newspaper claims the club have already hired four new coaches as replacements.
Former Tottenham keeper Ian Walker, who will work with the goalkeepers, and Birmingham fitness coach Dan Harris join as new assistants, as do two Frenchmen - Alioune Kissima Toure and Jean-Florent Ikwange Ibenge, according to the newspaper.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/football/9199507/Nicolas-Anelka-makes-shock-move-into-management-at-Chineses-side-Shanghai-Shenhua.html
NewYorkSpurs
Steven Caulker
Weirdest goal call ever?
http://deadspin.com/5901176/ronaldo...uld-only-describe-it-using-sexual-terminology
http://deadspin.com/5901176/ronaldo...uld-only-describe-it-using-sexual-terminology
Since CR joined La Liga:
http://soccernet.espn.go.com/player/_/id/45843/lionel-messi?cc=4716
Messi: 91 games - 104 goals.
---------------------------------------------
http://soccernet.espn.go.com/player/_/id/22774/cristiano-ronaldo?cc=4716
CR: 91 games - 106 goals.
---------------------------------------------------
You have to keep in mind that Messi is two years younger than CR7 and if you want to compare any two players it should be from the same age or period in their careers imo. You either choose from when both were 18 till now or since CR joined RM. And i guarantee you that when Messi(25) reaches the age on CR7 now(27), his stats will be much better. But we also have to give CR7 credit for achieving this while playing on the wing & Messi is free to roam where ever he wants.
Last edited:
Modric THFC
Jimmy McCormick
Since this is the Barcelona thread
http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/blog/2012/apr/13/barcelona-bandwagon-barney-ronay
http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/blog/2012/apr/13/barcelona-bandwagon-barney-ronay
Clamber aboard the annoyed-by-Barcelona bandwagon while you can
Irritation with Bar?ºa worship can reach new heights this season ÔÇô enjoy it while you can because their era, like all others, will end
Welcome back, then, Barcelona. As the Champions League dwindles towards its seasonal endgame, it is once again time for the world's greatest football team, the righteous skill-goblins of Catalonia, to arrive on these shores and bedazzle some Premier League hopeful with their travelling weather front of swarming geometrical intricacies. This week it is the turn of Chelsea to flail around Stamford Bridge in pursuit of the usual clique of Velcro-touch ball-hogs. And with this in mind perhaps it is worth taking stock for a moment. We may be witnessing a generational high here. These things are always hard to measure ÔÇô but the fact is this may be the most annoying Barcelona team ever.
We should have course be wary of hyperbole. Barcelona have been annoying before. They have been extremely annoying ÔÇô and I speak as someone who was annoyed by Barcelona before being annoyed by Barcelona went mainstream, before the arrival of the nouveaux-annoyed or the merely casually annoyed. Mainly I have been annoyed not so much by Barcelona's relentless pigeon-chested excellence, but by the attendant Bar?ºa-lifestyle, a wondrous feat of transcontinental marketing that has managed to project this uber-club, a regional superpower of steamrollering ancestral wealth as simultaneously a kind of balaclava-clad anti-corporate collective. We are not the empire, Barcelona screech. We are not even the rebel alliance. We are the ewoks! We abjure (most) shirt sponsorship. We are not just better: we are better. And so beyond Catalonia Barcelona are presented as a dreamily-styled under-overdo, a high-end footballing brand for people who believe themselves to be above brands, a kind of iPhone football for the wised-up urbanite.
It is hard not to feel sometimes that out of this platinum-hulled technical excellence Barcelona have created a strain of football for people who don't really like football. Most teams play like Barcelona once a season for about five seconds. Barcelona play like Barcelona all the time. It is a continual popping of champagne corks, a kind of BMW 5 Series football: undeniably high-spec, wondrous production values, devoid of ragged edges. Barcelona deliver every time at a pitch of homogenised consumer perfection. There is no need for faith, despair or sullen leering hope. This is a church where the miracles are on tap, where levitating pensioners come as standard, cadavers are reanimated, crutches hurled away daily.
It is important to acknowledge this is not a debate about how good Barcelona are (this is their era: they are laughably superior). Similarly it is also important to move beyond the recent wrong-headed suggestion that Barcelona are actually just "lucky", favoured by referring conspiracies, darlings of the Uefa illuminati. This is fundamentally misguided. It is the laws of modern football, rather than referees, that favour Barcelona. They alone are equipped to demonstrate the absolute limits of 25 years of reform designed to make the game more televisually hospitable to technical brilliance. Cradled within the skirts of the new non-contact rules, Barcelona can exploit both their own hard-won peerless technical mastery and the fact that peerless technical mastery is now enough in itself, reducing other teams to a kind of sandbagged seawall, a lumbering zombie horde there to be daintily picked off. Bar?ºa have already won this macro-battle. They are what football is supposed to look like now and if there is a conspiracy in their favour it is an entirely open one.
If no team has ever done this before it is perhaps because football at elite level has never been quite like this before: geographical difference ironed out, physicality minimised, players tending towards a certain shape and skill-set. Next to Barcelona this ageing reconstructive Chelsea team look like a hilarious example of extreme human variety, fielding in Frank Lampard a player who is now almost entirely immobile and instead simply lurks reproachfully like an unwanted mahogany armoire handed down from some distant aunt; Didier Drogba, who increasingly resembles no more than an enormous stationary head; and John Terry, who seems to be constantly running backwards, arms windmilling, scrabbling desperately for a handhold. In fact it is easy to feel a little sorry for the traditional British-style player caught up in these fixtures. It must feel a bit like being the only normal person at a party where everyone else is a handsome spy or a polyglot supermodel and all you can do is stand awkwardly and occasionally rock with silent, baffled laughter while they all make jokes in Latin.
And yet, things have moved on even further this season. If Barcelona are suddenly more annoying than ever before it is perhaps because for the first time there is a tinge of uncertainty about all this. Until quite recently there seemed a blanket inevitability to their preening ascension: one Barcelona would naturally bring along five Barcelonas, 100 Barcelonas, 10,000 Bar?ºabots all ready to turn the world a shade of tippy-tappy touch-ball. There have been tiny but still tangible wobbles this season: some managerial restlessness, the possibility of finishing second in La Liga, the suggestion recently from Brazil's visiting technical director that the notion of a new model army of Bar?ºa-kids emerging through the academy system is "all crap".
And somehow you can already see the imprint of an unrepeatable greatness in this current team. There will not be another Xavi just yet. There will perhaps never be another Lionel Messi. And in time the realisation will dawn, grudgingly, that like pretty much all great teams, this Barcelona is a one-off, a freakish coincidence of grand talents. Paradoxically this is perhaps the most annoying thing about them. As another Champions League title looms it may even soon become necessary to nurture a grudging affection for this wondrously dextrous force of footballing righteousness. Barcelona will probably beat Chelsea, because they are if nothing else unforgivably severe on the merely hopeful, the fingers-crossed. So drink it in. Luxuriate in the chafing self-regard, the sense of managed, frictionless excellence. Be annoyed, be very annoyed. Be annoyed like it's the last time.
Irritation with Bar?ºa worship can reach new heights this season ÔÇô enjoy it while you can because their era, like all others, will end
Welcome back, then, Barcelona. As the Champions League dwindles towards its seasonal endgame, it is once again time for the world's greatest football team, the righteous skill-goblins of Catalonia, to arrive on these shores and bedazzle some Premier League hopeful with their travelling weather front of swarming geometrical intricacies. This week it is the turn of Chelsea to flail around Stamford Bridge in pursuit of the usual clique of Velcro-touch ball-hogs. And with this in mind perhaps it is worth taking stock for a moment. We may be witnessing a generational high here. These things are always hard to measure ÔÇô but the fact is this may be the most annoying Barcelona team ever.
We should have course be wary of hyperbole. Barcelona have been annoying before. They have been extremely annoying ÔÇô and I speak as someone who was annoyed by Barcelona before being annoyed by Barcelona went mainstream, before the arrival of the nouveaux-annoyed or the merely casually annoyed. Mainly I have been annoyed not so much by Barcelona's relentless pigeon-chested excellence, but by the attendant Bar?ºa-lifestyle, a wondrous feat of transcontinental marketing that has managed to project this uber-club, a regional superpower of steamrollering ancestral wealth as simultaneously a kind of balaclava-clad anti-corporate collective. We are not the empire, Barcelona screech. We are not even the rebel alliance. We are the ewoks! We abjure (most) shirt sponsorship. We are not just better: we are better. And so beyond Catalonia Barcelona are presented as a dreamily-styled under-overdo, a high-end footballing brand for people who believe themselves to be above brands, a kind of iPhone football for the wised-up urbanite.
It is hard not to feel sometimes that out of this platinum-hulled technical excellence Barcelona have created a strain of football for people who don't really like football. Most teams play like Barcelona once a season for about five seconds. Barcelona play like Barcelona all the time. It is a continual popping of champagne corks, a kind of BMW 5 Series football: undeniably high-spec, wondrous production values, devoid of ragged edges. Barcelona deliver every time at a pitch of homogenised consumer perfection. There is no need for faith, despair or sullen leering hope. This is a church where the miracles are on tap, where levitating pensioners come as standard, cadavers are reanimated, crutches hurled away daily.
It is important to acknowledge this is not a debate about how good Barcelona are (this is their era: they are laughably superior). Similarly it is also important to move beyond the recent wrong-headed suggestion that Barcelona are actually just "lucky", favoured by referring conspiracies, darlings of the Uefa illuminati. This is fundamentally misguided. It is the laws of modern football, rather than referees, that favour Barcelona. They alone are equipped to demonstrate the absolute limits of 25 years of reform designed to make the game more televisually hospitable to technical brilliance. Cradled within the skirts of the new non-contact rules, Barcelona can exploit both their own hard-won peerless technical mastery and the fact that peerless technical mastery is now enough in itself, reducing other teams to a kind of sandbagged seawall, a lumbering zombie horde there to be daintily picked off. Bar?ºa have already won this macro-battle. They are what football is supposed to look like now and if there is a conspiracy in their favour it is an entirely open one.
If no team has ever done this before it is perhaps because football at elite level has never been quite like this before: geographical difference ironed out, physicality minimised, players tending towards a certain shape and skill-set. Next to Barcelona this ageing reconstructive Chelsea team look like a hilarious example of extreme human variety, fielding in Frank Lampard a player who is now almost entirely immobile and instead simply lurks reproachfully like an unwanted mahogany armoire handed down from some distant aunt; Didier Drogba, who increasingly resembles no more than an enormous stationary head; and John Terry, who seems to be constantly running backwards, arms windmilling, scrabbling desperately for a handhold. In fact it is easy to feel a little sorry for the traditional British-style player caught up in these fixtures. It must feel a bit like being the only normal person at a party where everyone else is a handsome spy or a polyglot supermodel and all you can do is stand awkwardly and occasionally rock with silent, baffled laughter while they all make jokes in Latin.
And yet, things have moved on even further this season. If Barcelona are suddenly more annoying than ever before it is perhaps because for the first time there is a tinge of uncertainty about all this. Until quite recently there seemed a blanket inevitability to their preening ascension: one Barcelona would naturally bring along five Barcelonas, 100 Barcelonas, 10,000 Bar?ºabots all ready to turn the world a shade of tippy-tappy touch-ball. There have been tiny but still tangible wobbles this season: some managerial restlessness, the possibility of finishing second in La Liga, the suggestion recently from Brazil's visiting technical director that the notion of a new model army of Bar?ºa-kids emerging through the academy system is "all crap".
And somehow you can already see the imprint of an unrepeatable greatness in this current team. There will not be another Xavi just yet. There will perhaps never be another Lionel Messi. And in time the realisation will dawn, grudgingly, that like pretty much all great teams, this Barcelona is a one-off, a freakish coincidence of grand talents. Paradoxically this is perhaps the most annoying thing about them. As another Champions League title looms it may even soon become necessary to nurture a grudging affection for this wondrously dextrous force of footballing righteousness. Barcelona will probably beat Chelsea, because they are if nothing else unforgivably severe on the merely hopeful, the fingers-crossed. So drink it in. Luxuriate in the chafing self-regard, the sense of managed, frictionless excellence. Be annoyed, be very annoyed. Be annoyed like it's the last time.
markysimmo
Johnny nice-tits
Fleetwood having a wobble the past few games, they need to win tonight to be promoted to League 2 but are losing 2-0 at mo, they have 102 points already !!!
Spursalot
Jimmy McCormick
Reading goalkeeper is having a blinder so far..
Though that was definitely against the run of play...
Ah, didn't know about the goal difference. Okay then, Reading win, but if not, draw
Dayo
Chris Armstrong
Still a bit brick though :lol:
DHSF
Les Ferdinand
He is brilliant. He really should be Lennons deputy