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A Game of Two Cards
This should shut every bugger up out there who claims that United keep getting favoured by referees at Old Trafford. Well, there you go. They get sympathy from the man in the middle even at Stamford Bridge. A victory looked as impossible as a clean Joey Barton, that too despite United taking a quick 2-goal lead. But as soon as Chelsea got into their Oscar-Mata-Hazard gear, there was only going to be one result, especially without Howard Webb holding the United midfield together. Up steps Mark Clattenberg, out come two red cards, in pops Chicharito. Game over. Clattenberg can expect the finest bottle of wine from Fergie’s cabinet one of these days. Well, that is if he survives the visit of a few tall, square-jawed, gunmen in black coats. Courtesy: The Russian Oil Mafia.
The Constants
There are a few things in football that will never change. The game will always be played on grass, except for some parts in the former U.S.S.R and the Britannia Stadium. Abrahomovic will sack his managers, irrespective of whether they win the league, in Europe or the Nobel Prize for peace. Arsenal fans will continue to trust in Wenger. Similarly, Luis Suarez will continue to be judged even if he turns in a superlative performance. Let us take the derby for instance. The man scored one, created one, managed to stay on his feet for almost the entire match and still got a goal ruled out under dubious circumstances. It wasn’t offside, it wasn’t a foul and it wasn’t a goal line clearance with the arm against Ghana. The assistant referee probably just thought to himself – “Oh, it is Suarez. I am supposed to raise the flag. At least that’s what the rulebook says.”
Respecting Roots
Gareth Bale did not celebrate his first goal again Southampton, out of respect for his former club – the place where he plied his trade in utmost. That was before Wenger’s kindergarten scouts spotted him and the vultures from the Premier League landed. Such gestures have become common in the EPL, with almost every player with the exception of Carlos Tevez and Emmanuel Adebayor paying similar tributes. Considering how these players are highly appreciated for this little PR activity, I have my sympathies for Nicolas Anelka. Bearing in mind the ridiculous number of clubs he has split his loyalty among over his long and tumultuous career, the Frenchman is left with almost no room for celebration. I guess that explains his move to China. Let us spare the man. Let him celebrate his goal – for a season or two at least.
Tit for That
Slightly away from the Premier League, but still in England, Adam Chapman performed a feat for Oxford FC never before seen on a football field – or a porn movie set – or in a Tarantino movie. He led his team to victory despite suffering from a, yeah that’s right, a burnt nipple. Wake up. We’ve seen John Terry with a broken toe, Beckham with a bandaged head and Wayne Bridge with a shattered heart, all do the same for their respective teams. But this, was surely different. This should alert Mario Balotelli, the doer of spectacular things. He might claim an appearance with an injured testicle, one belonging to his neighbour of course. His claim would be playing with a guilty conscience. Rooney, who wouldn’t want to be left behind, would join with the bad haircut being his disability. Football definitely is a game played by real men, don’t you think?
FYI, this article made its first appearance here – http://www.fansonstands.com.
