Tag Archives: Italian

Capello continues to cling to the wrong experienced players


It was only last year that I was championing Fabio Capello as an intelligent and adaptable manager capable of improving considerably on England’s tournament record. Then disastrous preparation for the World Cup in South Africa and the handling of the captaincy fiasco transformed him from hero to zero for the whole nation. Yesterday’s draw with Switzerland, in a game England should have won at Wembley, was further evidence that Capello should have gone after the failure of the World Cup.

Capello’s main failing at the moment, above his poor communication skills and shoddy organisation, is his refusal to move on from ageing stars. Frank Lampard started as part of a three man midfield yesterday but England improved dramatically after the break when Capello brought on Young in his place, who should have started the game. Young scored a smart goal.

England have real pace and youthful pentration available on the flanks. The likes of Young, Downing, Johnson, Lennon and Walcott ought to be utilised more often. It’s taken Capello too long to give them international playing experience. The best teams at the big tournaments are units of quality players that have played together for a number of years, since the promise of their youth. Look at the German and Spanish sides.

In the centre of midfield, Jack Wilshere is the future. Capello has finally decided to give him a key role. But he continually plays alongside Parker and Lampard. Lampard is past his best and should be a squad member, not an integral part of the team for the long term. Parker was exposed yesterday; he is not the solution to England’s midfield woes. Capello needs to look to younger options for a holding midfield partner for Wilshere. Tom Huddlestone perhaps?

On the other hand, Capello consistently neglects experienced international players that could still play a vital role in his squad. His new found fetish for Darren Bent as a lone striker has alienated Peter Crouch, with rumours swirling today that he’s ruled himself out of international duty whilst Capello remains in charge. Michael Owen would have scored the chance Bent had to win the game, undeservedly, for England against Switzerland. Michael Carrick has been superb for Manchester United and would compliment Wilshere well. His passing ability is well suited to internationals.

A year ago I thought one of Capello’s key attributes was decisiveness. He dealt excellently with the John Terry crisis at first, only to divide the dressing room with his terribly handled reinstatement. However the defining aspect of his tenure looks set to be indecision. Extraordinarily Capello didn’t know his best eleven before the 2010 World Cup. He still won’t know his best eleven before Euro 2012, if England get there. He appears torn between entrusting the team’s hopes to youth or tried and tested experience. And when he tries to balance the two, he picks the wrong ingredients.

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The curse of an unbeaten run: Do United need to lose?


In Westminster a Conservative and Liberal coalition sits in power. But the mood, as shown by recent policies and events, is unquestionably one of cold conservatism. And so it is too in Manchester, a city that at the start of the Premier League season may have had lofty but not unattainable ambitions of displacing London as the country’s capital of football. The nil-nil clash between the city’s red and blue halves this week has been widely condemned as the dreariest fixture of this campaign. The disappointing lack of incident, entertainment and thrills can be traced back to the currently cautious philosophies of both managers.

Now Roberto Mancini’s preference for restrained, grey tactics is well known. He is, after all, following a long, accepted tradition of the defensive minded Italian coach. Many have criticised him for pursuing such a continental style of football in the action-packed, fast-paced Premiership and it would seem results are now proving these critics correct. It beggars belief that a squad bursting with creativity and forwards can be so dependent on Carlos Tevez for a cutting edge. The starting line-up Mancini decided upon for the mid-week derby looked as if it were struggling to accommodate all his holding midfield players, as opposed to the usual dilemma of squeezing every last ounce of creativity from the team sheet. My jaw actually dropped when I discovered that Yaya Toure, the man once courted by the red side of town as the solution to their weak defensive spine, was selected to play “in the hole” behind Tevez. Certainly Toure was capable of surging runs on the ball but he was and is primarily a defensive rock to be positioned in front of the defence, giving other more gifted attacking players the freedom to roam. Even if Mancini refuses to play a second striker, and a degree of caution was more understandable against such able rivals, he ought to at least deploy his midfield cast in the right roles to support the increasingly isolated Tevez.

Anyway Mancini’s shortcomings are predictable. He has openly said that he would be happy with fourth place for his Manchester City side and is seemingly happy to progress in small steps towards the oil rich owners’ dream of global domination. Certainly his side has enough quality to achieve this goal, ahead of an overstretched Tottenham and dazed Liverpool, even though I happen to agree with Tony Cascarino in The Times that the title is up for grabs this season should any team have the willpower and resources to seize it. City clearly have the resources and an opportunity afforded them by a league in which teams continuously take points off each other, including the big teams. If Mancini took a risk and let some of his fiercer dogs off the lead the oil barons’ dream could be accelerated. The more interesting aspect of the mid-week duel however was Sir Alex Ferguson’s conservative style.

What conservative style? I hear you cry. His team just stormed back from two nil down against Aston Villa to snatch a point and remain unbeaten, and the defence has hardly been watertight, so if anything they need to sharpen up the concentration and caution. The real problem is that United just aren’t good enough anymore. All of this may be true. There’s certainly no doubt that the Reds have eased off the gas too early, conceding damaging late equalisers in games they should have easily won, despite below par performances. There’s also no doubt that another type of conservatism, that of caution in the transfer market, has led to a United squad that no longer matched Chelsea’s and in some cases City’s. The last time I saw the Red Devils play they were decked out in white kit at Villa Park, as they were yesterday. Rooney was also absent for most of the game, coming on late as a right-winger. Ronaldo tore Villa to shreds down the left, the defence was impenetrable, Scholes scored a wonder goal. Yesterday the squad could not cope so well, despite an almost identical backline. But a team of United’s stature having more draws than wins at this stage of the season must suggest something more.

As do Sir Alex’s comments after the Villa game yesterday. He had just watched two vital substitutions prove crucial to his team’s revival, with the first goal an excellent, thumping top corner finish from Federico Macheda, and the equaliser a diving header from the always commanding Nemanja Vidic. Before that though Villa had nearly deservedly runaway with it and the defending had been dire. Fergie insisted that another five minutes, and such was the swing of momentum, United would have won it. All I could think though was, like most fans: why had they not played with such incisiveness and urgency for the whole 90 minutes or at least from the off? Why the need for the near fatal catalyst?

Without Rooney, Manchester United look timid, shy and inexperienced going forward. They are also crucially devoid of leaders in the final third of the pitch. Vidic is superb, but good teams need someone to lead by example from the front, and Berbatov’s languid style can only do so sporadically. During Rooney’s injury spell, despite his poor form and bad attitude preceding it, an air of hope rather than expectation has ruled before United’s games. Fans seem to be praying a promising youngster like Hernandez can step up to grab a winner, whilst consciously lowering their expectations, knowing they aren’t ready to do so consistently.

By remaining unbeaten for the longest spell at the start of a season during Fergie’s considerable tenure, United remain within touching distance of Chelsea, just. But only just. And coasting so inconsistently will not wrest the title back from London. Given the promise shown lately by the likes of Hernandez, Obertan and Macheda, perhaps it’s time Sir Alex let his own young pups off the lead to go truly wild in pursuit of glory. It might lead to recklessness and the end of the immaculate record and it may already be too late, but they have little to lose. All of the big hitters seem to be plodding this season, with even Chelsea’s march slowing, so it’s about time someone erupted into a sprint for silverware. A return to the attack minded, high tempo, youthful United of days gone by may provide the key to unlocking a championship increasingly shackled by the scarves of caution donned by European coaches. And if not, at the very least it will be gripping entertainment.

Ah, but Arsene Wenger’s Arsenal are all about the free-flowing, thrilling stuff aren’t they? And where has it got them for the last few seasons? There are two key differences between United and the Gunners though. One is the strength of the defence: Ferdinand, Vidic and co have it in them to be immovable, they just need to get their act together, whereas Arsenal’s last resort is more questionable, particularly the goalkeeper. The other difference is the styles in which the teams attack: Arsenal attack in an arty, pretty, more continental style whereas United are direct, to the point, going for goal in wave after wave of red surges. It’s these imposing surges United must find the confidence to unleash away from home, as well as at the fortress of Old Trafford, if they are to reverse their stagnant fortunes on their travels, which have hampered their season so far. It will certainly do them little good carrying on as they are. At the moment United look easy to intimidate away; a fact they must reverse by becoming the aggressor, not through Mancini’s technical intricacies.

Harry Brown


It’s difficult to precisely pinpoint the moment I fully embraced the mantra “don’t get sad, get mad”. It may have been after my first THRRIP (Totally Humiliating Romantic Rejection In Public), or my second, third or fourth, or it may have been at the doctors after being diagnosed with yet another niggling ailment, or that time on holiday. Yeah that time. Anyway it’s an incredibly liberating and practically useful little philosophical phrase that never fails to help when intoned in worrying hushed tones to oneself at times of crisis. Normally it’s best to redirect your waves of gloom into stinging volleys of verbal venom at something or someone else. However if you can’t quite manage this straight away there is the intermediate stage of self-loathing as opposed to self-pity. It’s surprising how much better it feels to mentally pound yourself, the equivalent of smashing your knee caps to bits with a hammer, than to sit and curse your bad luck and the unfairness of the world and stay true to some ideal that ultimately makes you a worthless martyr. That’s a bit like watching Comic Relief in black and white without the Comic bits and you feel so guilty you want to ring up, only you can’t because you’re tied to a metal chair in a freezing igloo with only cockroaches and old copies of Bella with outdated fictions about the Loose Women for company. I mean you can find the fun in bashing anything with a hammer.

Obviously though it’s better not to destroy yourself, no matter how fun it is, but that’s the beauty of the mantra “don’t get sad, get mad”. Anger is far more productive than depressing sadness and can usually be channelled like a satisfying stream of hot piss as opposed to the dreary, relentless drip of sadness. If you let it that drip will erode your soul, whereas that stream of piss will just make it a stink for a while, and people will think you’re a prick, but you’ll feel better. Anger gets things done. They may not be worthwhile things but it will get you out of bed in the morning. Countless critics for example seem to make a living out of analysing and ripping to shreds pointless content, such as ITV’s new morning show Daybreak. I mean really who cares about its quality, who actually expected it to tackle the news seriously and intelligently as the producers claimed before the revamp? But what would be the point in collapsing into weepy hysterics about the futility of life, symbolised by Adrian Chiles’ empty autocue reading posture, or Sharon Osborne’s incompetence standing in for Loraine Kelly? Much better to write scathing, fury fuelled critiques that might just brighten the day of all those who tolerate such comfort TV, whilst secretly seething at its failings.

I have to say though that I have realised I was exaggerating to say I “fully embraced” the mantra “don’t get sad, get mad”. The little method outlined above to deal with life’s ups and downs really just dips its toes in the rivers of possibility. Michael Caine’s character Harry Brown, in director Daniel Barber’s 2009 debut of the same name, fully adopts the philosophy and dives deep into those waters out of grim necessity. Harry has more reason than most to be sad, and therefore extremely mad. He lives in London’s hellish underbelly and watches, his face illuminated in the gentle amber glow of the street lights, as his neighbourhood is terrorised and ruled by mindless thugs. And what really irks Harry is that they are totally mindless. Harry was in the Marines in Northern Ireland and saw ghastly things in that warzone, but that violence was always motivated by deeply held beliefs. In this modern hell he watches as his life is torn apart by bored teenagers, snatching filthy pleasures and dangerous highs where they can get them.  

Caine was full of praise for Barber’s directorial skill on his debut after this film’s release and that praise is mostly justified. That is not to say his first film was perfect but it is a solidly gripping and at times moving tale. The film opens strikingly with a random shooting, seen from the frenzied perspective of drugged up youths on a fast moving, noisy bike. The incident comes to a crashing halt and despite the horror of it all the audience can feel the thrill and therefore the twisted motivation behind the criminals’ actions. Barber then swiftly contrasts this dizzying, dangerous high with the monotonous, lonely day to day existence of Harry Brown in his drab flat on a graffiti splattered estate, with only chess games at the pub and visits to his dying wife to fill the dragging bags of time. When Harry’s only real mate, his chess buddy, is murdered standing up to the thugs and the police investigation quickly stumbles in an excellent, frustrating interrogation scene, Harry resolves to begin unpicking the threads of his local underworld. Actually just to back up my earlier theory Harry tries drink first, feels sorry for himself and then is forced to act by a knife wielding hoodie. Sad first, then get mad.

Now if the idea of a pensioner getting things done, pulling out the roots of crime through strength of will alone, seems a little implausible to you, then you’re not alone. Even though it was Michael Caine, once so imposing in Get Carter, so assured in The Italian Job, I was sceptical. But Caine’s performance, vulnerable puppy dog eyes and all, ultimately draws you in. Indeed this is a very well acted production. David Bradley puts in a solid turn as always as Caine’s murdered friend but most impressive for me were the police officers involved in the investigation. Emily Mortimer’s well meaning Detective and streetwise Charlie Creed-Miles as her Sergeant make an intriguing double-act, whilst Iain Glen as the superior officer in charge is totally convincing in his brief scenes trundling out the official line with cold hearted efficiency. If the film has a weak point it is perhaps the crude characterisation of the yobs, whose performances are somewhat predictable. But then again the slightly heightened and simplified version of grim estate life may simply be making the point that scum exists and even the police recognise the best they can do is to be seen to be doing something about and to contain it within areas beyond help. The actions scenes, whilst not perfect, are hard hitting and gripping. The film builds to a climax in which the estate becomes a battleground, with shield wielding riot police standing helplessly against the hordes of savage youths. Again this feels simplified but the film concludes well with a satisfying twist. Barber definitely deserves more opportunities in the director’s chair, if only for the vivid vision of a grimy, sodden and hidden London that is present throughout.

Number 1 in 2012?


Urgghhhh…not England again! Just as we were all getting into the swing of the new Premiership season we’re forced to collectively confront the endless failings of our national side and look to the future again. The next chance of that elusive trophy will come at Euro 2012, a year in which we will at least be able to retreat to the splendour and pride of hosting the Olympic Games, should England fail to perform at the tournament proper, or as last time under Steve McClaren, fail to qualify for the European Championships at all.

The prospect of Capello leading a depressingly familiar looking side out at Wembley against mundane opponents like Bulgaria tomorrow is by no means a tantalising one. Personally I think the public shall struggle to ever fully get behind an England team under the guidance of Capello again, following his exposure at the World Cup as an underprepared, inexperienced international manager as opposed to the strict messiah he grew to become in the optimistic qualifying campaign. The only way Capello can begin to win back the hearts and minds of the fans is with a youthful overhaul of his squad, and his selections since the World Cup have fallen short in terms of ambition and a fresh approach. He has even sent mixed messages over David Beckham’s future, so that he at first retires him and then leaves the door open for a more than ceremonial return. Since the World Cup many commentators have pounced on Capello’s communication failures, calling for if not an English  manager then one with a firm grasp of the language. Players like Paul Robinson backed up these criticisms with evidence, choosing to end their international careers rather than continually endure the confusing limbo of Capello’s squad selections. And then there has been the success of Capello’s omissions from the World Cup squad: Theo Walcott’s pace and promise in the Arsenal side, Paul Scholes’ masterful domination of midfield, and his assertion that Capello simply left it too late and didn’t seem to want his return to the national side enough.

The progressive choices in Capello’s squad appear to be forced upon him as well, so there appears to be no evidence of a genuine effort on his part to rejuvenate the team. Up front there is no place for Newcastle’s hat-trick hero Andy Carroll, despite the media hype and recent good form that Capello previously promised would be rewarded. The strikers are the same bland mixture then of an underachieving Carlton Cole, Darren Bent, an injured Defoe and not scoring Rooney. In midfield too old faces shall probably win out, even with promising performances from young stars like Johnson and Walcott. Might now be the time to shift Walcott back up front alongside Rooney? Such a move probably won’t be followed by Capello and yet he is not seeking the long term target man partner for Rooney in Carroll either. In defence we are about to be offered a glimpse of an uncertain future, with Rio Ferdinand now probably a permanent crock well beyond his prime and Terry too entering his twilight years. The likes of Dawson, Upson and Jagielka do not scream world class defender: none of them ply their trade at a top club and even the promising Gary Cahill would need to improve in leaps and bounds.

Between the sticks though England are looking healthier. Again the retirements of James and Robinson forced the future on Capello rather than him embracing it with a continental kiss, Italian flair and setting it boldly beside the fire to be nurtured. Capello’s indecision when it came to the goalkeeper contributed to Robert Green’s blunder at the World Cup, as the entire nation was left in limbo as to who was number one. Remarkably though circumstances have contrived to purge the position so that by 2012 England shall have hopefully be in the position of having two world class goalkeepers, rather than none.

The fight of course is between Ben Foster and Joe Hart. However this is not to dismiss the other candidates, such as Scott Carson who has rebuilt his career following England failure at West Brom, David Stockdale of Fulham who has impressed stepping in for the mighty Schwarzer in the season openers and young Scott Loach of Watford, who replaces Carson in the squad for Bulgaria’s visit because of a family bereavement. These keepers will all provide beneficial competition but it is Foster or Hart who shall emerge as the next England number one and hopefully both will develop into fine keepers to give the squad depth.

Foster was of course the next Manchester United keeper a year ago. He has in many ways traded fortunes with Hart, who a year ago was going out on loan to Foster’s current club Birmingham. At Birmingham Hart forged a reputation for himself and has returned to Manchester City, despite all the mega money signings, to claim the first team spot ahead of the impressive, reliable and experienced Shay Given, who is wanted by a number of other Premiership teams, including Arsenal, as first choice keeper. This is a remarkable achievement for Hart and he deserves his shot at making the England shirt his own now, along with some patience and time from his manager to do so. Undoubtedly he is in a better position than Foster, playing at a club with the fresh expectation, classy talent and lofty aims of Man City. However there’s a long way to go until 2012 and it would be foolish to rule Foster out. Despite being comprehensively beaten by a cool, well placed Kevin Davies penalty at the weekend he is the sort of goalie you always fancy to stop a spot-kick. Despite some blunders with his feet in big games for Utd last season he is better than most keepers with the ball and is capable of excellent, precise distribution. Despite failing to claim the Utd jersey for himself expectations were placed on him not without reason and I share the view of some that Fergie was premature to get rid of him this summer for the modest sum of £6million, when he still might have proved to be an excellent replacement for Van Der Sar.

No need for foreign managers


I could not bring myself to write directly about England’s World Cup exit and this is despite the fact I did not expect our national side to progress. The manner of defeat though was so utterly deflating that all previous hopes of progress and improvement over the qualification campaign were dashed. Rightly questions were immediately asked about Capello’s future as manager in the fierce post-mortem examination of England’s World Cup and wrongly in my view the FA have hastily confirmed his continuation as coach.

This is not to say that I don’t recognise the arguments in favour of Capello or indeed any foreign coach. Personally the most persuasive argument is the lack of high calibre home grown coaches. The English choices touted as potential managers the last time the job was vacant were uninspiring to say the least, with the list headed by Sam Allardyce, a man who missed his big chance with Newcastle and whose primary strengths, for example shrewd transfer dealings, would appear useless away from the everyday grind of club football in the leagues.  Harry Redknapp has similar drawbacks, despite admittedly having a more proven track record and others mentioned all had their own fatal flaws, such as Stuart Pearce’s inexperience. With such limited options the FA’s decision to look abroad for greater pedigree to ensure results can be understood, although in both the cases of Eriksson and Capello it has baffled me that they should opt for managers successful primarily in club football, when England’s problems have always been related to the unique performances required at the tournament itself. Both foreign coaches have fallen at this final hurdle thus far, as English coaches before them always did.

Another argument supporting the utilisation of foreign coaching talent in general is the fact that the English game has a problem when it comes to technical quality. The World Cup finalists this year, Holland and Spain, have shown that technical ability can enable teams to achieve the ultimate prize without playing to their full potential. It has been extremely frustrating for me to watch the Dutch, a team I have publicly backed to do well at each recent tournament besides the South African World Cup, march to the final. However it has been equally infuriating to hear pundits continuously talk of below par Dutch performances, when in every match I have seen them their ball retention has been effortless. They also have several players with a creative cutting edge and a steady, experienced defence, shielded by an immovable Van Bommel in the heart of midfield. The men in orange have rarely played poorly at this World Cup, it is merely a sign of their quality that it is evident they could play so much better to many watching them. The Spanish too, perhaps even more so, have underperformed but still find themselves in the final courtesy of complete mastery of possession.

So if foreign coaches can bring with them a vital essence of technique from their country of origin they might be worthwhile. Capello for example was expected to improve England’s passing ability and defensive strength as an Italian. However against Germany England were undone by a lack of professionalism and a neglect of some of the basics of the game, areas Capello had supposedly sorted with his approach to management. Indeed at times England matched the Germans and there was a moment the momentum seemed to have swung our way, but such hope all too easily disintegrated. I believe England’s exit exposed a fundamental truth about the actual ability of our footballers and the futility of quick fix solutions; technical deficiencies in our players can only be eradicated at a grass roots level and if they are to be dealt with at the top then an English manager could do just as good a job.

The key argument for Capello himself carrying on in the role is harder to dismiss than the broader issue of foreign managers though. Prior to the tournament itself and its immediate build-up, Capello had successfully rebuilt national belief in the team and instilled a winning mentality with an effortless qualifying campaign. He also missed opportunities to experiment and therefore go to South Africa with a stronger hand as I have previously pointed out, but nonetheless he achieved qualification, something his English predecessor did not manage. To axe Capello too swiftly following the defeat to Germany would have broken a continuity that had been hard to re-establish. Decision makers at the FA would have wanted to avoid a knee jerk reaction to events resulting in the wrong appointment and another failed Euro qualification campaign.

However those urging to play it safe and stick with the expensive failure may live to regret their caution. The inaction and delay meant that Roy Hodgson, in many ways the perfect blend of culture, proven management in a tournament environment with limited resources and a truly English view of the game, slipped through the net to Liverpool. The argument for continuity is in my view blown apart by both the age of the squad and the failure necessitating something new; fresh legs and ideas. Ultimately employing a foreign coach for our national side can only be justified by success and there is no doubt that the achievements of Eriksson and Capello cannot be rated as such, even if they better the attempts of recent Englishman. Any top flight English manager is capable of achieving the same tournament finish notched by Capello and would do so with pride and passion representing his country, striving for the absolute best. For all Fabio’s touchline gesticulations he could not feel our national anguish. If the FA do continue to employ foreign coaches they may as well pursue those Premier League players that express a desire to play for England and apply for citizenship, despite having no English family link. They may as well surrender control of the national side to the Premier League and concede it is all about profit and that club football really does exceed international ties in terms of importance. They have missed an opportunity to lay the foundations for long term international success that plays to our strengths and can be proudly boasted of as an English accomplishment, not mocked by our opponents as the brainchild of an icy continental tinkerer.