Basketball: Cardiff Comeback Keeps Solent Title Hopes Alive

Solent’s phenomenal comeback in their dramatic 79:74 victory over rivals Cardiff has set up the most nail-biting ending to a season in many years, according to their captain William Zoppellini.

“It is strange, usually the season is effectively over by Christmas. We play 10 games per season, and 9 of those are before the Christmas break, so the title is usually wrapped up,” he said.

“This season though, it is so close at the top it could realistically go down to the last game of the season.”

Solent currently sit in 3rd place in the BUCS league, 6 points behind leaders Exeter, though this victory over present runners-up Cardiff helped to regain some ground having come back from a deficit of almost 30 points. Zoppellini takes up the story.

“I’ve never played in a game where a team came back like that. It was an awful start, which was our own fault really – we didn’t give ourselves much of a warm up, and we were destroyed early on – at one stage the score was 32-4 against us!

“Eventually we started to play, and in the last quarter saw a real opportunity to push forward.

“With about 5 minutes left of the game, when we went up by one, I felt we’d won it. They were on the back foot, arguing amongst themselves – and our boys were making a really good team effort.

“I remember one game at Chichester when we were down by 20 at half time, and the coach was asked to leave the court for arguing. We went on a run in the last two quarters, and we ended up winning that one by nine – but the Cardiff comeback was easily the highlight of the season.”

Mathematically Solent are still in with a shout at winning the league, though they require all results to go their way – Exeter to lose both remaining games, and Cardiff to beat Exeter and lose their other match – in order to stand any chance of winning this season’s trophy.

Even if the results do go their way, they will need a large turnaround in points difference, currently trailing leaders Exeter by 71 points.

Any which way, however, Will and his team are not likely to give up the chase until winning the title becomes an impossible dream.

Co-written and co-produced with James Barrett

Reuben Agboola Speaks to James McLean (version 2)

Reuben Agboola - an absolute pleasure to speak with

Unless you are a fan of either Southampton or Sunderland, you could be forgiven for not knowing who Reuben Agboola is.

Well, for those of you who aren’t red-and-white inclined, allow me to help you out.

He played over 250 first-class games in his career, is a cult hero at both Southampton and Sunderland – where his official debut was cut short at half time due to match abandonment – and also featured nine times for Nigeria.

During his five years at Southampton he helped his side to the runners-up spot in the 1983-84 First Division – Saints’ highest ever final league position.

At Sunderland, Agboola became the first player to be capped by an African country while playing on Wearside, paving the way for the likes of Dickson Etuhu and John Mensah in later years.

Reuben admits he did not get along well with former Saints manager Lawrie McMenemy – and this was a major factor in his decision to switch the south for the north east. “We bump into each other all the time in Southampton these days and he seems to want to be my best friend – I still haven’t been able to get my head around that” he muses.

Things weren’t so rosy on the international scene for the Camden-born defender, however. Nigeria (whom he was eligible to play for via his father) almost remained Agboola-less permanently following some trouble getting into the country before his first cap in 1991.

Reuben himself picks up the story.

“I didn’t have a Visa, because things were rushed so much,” recalls the 47-year-old. “We were at the check-in queue at Heathrow, and they wouldn’t even give me a boarding card because I didn’t have a visa.

“I was with a friend from the Nigerian FA – he was about 7ft, and dripping in Armani, who basically asked for the names of the staff at the check-in, because he wouldn’t take the rap if one of the president’s Super Eagles players wasn’t allowed into the country. “We managed to get our boarding cards in the end!”

However, this wasn’t quite the end of the fun and games for the soon-to-be International footballer, whose arrival was much anticipated by his team mates – because they were running late for a practice match!

The match was against a local team (“I think it was Burkina Faso”, he later recalled) at the national stadium, just two days before a competitive first team international.

“We were told we wouldn’t be needing shin pads. I got a massive gash down the front of my leg when one of their players came in with a tackle from the top. “Their captain got sent off, and we lost 1-0. I remember thinking, wow, I can’t wait for Saturday!

“As it turns out though, the locals were better than the team we ended up playing that weekend – we won that one 5-0!”

When asked about his fondest playing memories, Reuben recalls with particular warmth one match he played on a cold North East night in 1990. Incidentally, it was not at the familiar Roker Park, but rather St. James’ Park – home of bitter rivals Newcastle United.

It was that season’s Play Off Semi Final, and crowd trouble almost got the match abandoned – but in the end Sunderland held out to reach the Final. Reuben remembers as the home fans were running onto the pitch it was as if they were running straight past the Sunderland players to try and lynch their own team.

Strangely, despite losing the Final to Swindon at Wembley, Sunderland were still promoted to Division 1 (this was before the heady days of the Premiership) when their conquerors were punished for “financial irregularities”.

This match is another of Reuben’s favourites, because beneath those iconic twin towers his dad was present to see him play for the very first time, as he told “red&white” editor Rob Mason.

“He always seemed to be working away before then, and had only seen me play on TV before. A couple of days before the game I hurt my leg which wasn’t great. I tried, even though I wasn’t fully fit!”

This was actually the second time he had been to Wembley with the Black Cats, frustratingly missing out the first time due to his status of being cup-tied, and having to watch his pals fall short in the 1985 Milk Cup (now known as the League Cup) Final.

“It was a bit of a non-entity really, because every few weeks we had a cup match which ruled me out – just as I was trying to string a few games together to impress the fans at my new club. The cup run was great to be a part of, but it was so frustrating to have to miss out.”

Agboola, who did some coaching throughout his later career, retired from professional football following a brief spell with Swansea in 1992, though he did later turn out for Woking.

He became landlord of the “Sporting View” bar in Southampton, before relocating to Majorca, running a bar for a year. He later returned to the south coast, where he currently works for a car company in Southampton.

“Everything is computerized these days, which is meant to be idiot-proof, but it is really not – my boss manages to get it wrong all the time. It’s OK though, because it means I can get away with blaming him for just about anything!”

When he is not at work, Reuben is a keen golfer – as evidenced by the clubs present behind his desk. “I never go too far without my clubs, just in case I need to make a quick getaway!” he laughs, though it is obvious he is being completely serious.

A Chip Off The Old Block?

Fergusons Jr. and Sr. could soon be doing battle in the Premier League.

That’s all folks. This is the end. I realise I may never live to see Sunderland finishing the season in the top half of the Premier League, I know I will not survive long enough to graduate from university.

How do I know this? Because – and believe me when I tell you this – Man-flu is child’s play compared to what I have at the moment.

That which makes me suffer so badly and cares not one iota that I can barely focus on anything – you guessed it ladies and gentlemen, I’ve got the dreaded man-pneumonia.

It has now set up camp most probably for the entire winter, likely through to next summer, and in all reality, Buzz Lightyear may have hit the nail right on the proverbial head.

However, I am comforted by the fact that the world continues to revolve while I suffer so badly.

People are still working, television is thankfully still airing and football’s chairmen contine to change their managers more often that I change my underwear (I’ve got my opinions on changing managers, and am writing a piece on that very subject, but that is for another day).

Paul Hart has become the latest casualty – becoming the first top flight dismissal this season (and it’s almost December, strange – almost half a season without a single sacking!). After impressively helping turn Portsmouth around last season, he has taken them rock bottom this year and the board have decided it’s time for a change.

And the favourite for the job? Darren Ferguson – of THAT fame. Yes, you got it – THE Ferguson fame. The great one’s son. And, should he get the job, who could be his first opponent (assuming he takes the job in time)?

Yep. Pompey play host to Manchester United this weekend, in what could potentially be the first ever Father v Son managerial battle in Premier League history. Sure, Jamie Redknapp played against teams managed by dad Harry, but this would be the first time that both managers involved in a Premier League fixture would be so closely related.

How interesting would that be? Sir Alex, deep into the twilight years of his career, faces his son Darren in what is the latter’s managerial debut in the Premier League, and the younger generation can spring a surprise.

It would instantly give the Pompey fans belief in his abilities, and set the tone for what could potentially be a great career – I mean, he’s from the best managerial bloodline in the land isn’t he?

But don’t expect Ferguson Sr. to exactly offer any favours. He will know his son needs to learn the hard way, and United are struggling enough to keep up with Chelsea as it is without giving away needless points.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting Sir Alex would simply ALLOW his son to win anyway, but there would surely be a deep-set tinge of sentimentality about the match – one that both would need to overcome, and also embrace, if the true magic of this fixture is to be realised.

Personally though, my money is on Avram Grant taking the hotseat. He’s been back at Fratton Park for a couple of months now, and considering how well he did at Chelsea, the only reason I can see him NOT becoming the new manager is if he didn’t want the job – well, that or his “imminent” work permit (which he has been waiting for since last month apparentely) gets lost in the post.

Either way, the dizzying ride that is the managerial merry-go-round will continue to operate just like I’m sure my man-pneumonia will – to infinite and beyond.

Image courtesy of skysports.com

Reuben Agboola Speaks to James McLean

Reuben works for a car company in Southampton these days

When you meet someone like Reuben Agboola, you do not only meet a former professional footballer – you meet a man.

But who, really, is this man? Many people may have seen him playing football on a Saturday afternoon in the late 80’s and early 90’s, but what is he truly like?

I sit alone in a quiet corner of the pub, pondering these very questions, as a guy at the opposite end of the room asks his wife if she wants one more for the road.

Other than that I am kept company solely by my own thoughts.

My nerves are on edge, as I keep replaying a question that was asked of me earlier in the afternoon – “what on earth are you going to say?”

I know that, in this tranquil room, and in just a few moments time, one of my own defensive idols as a child is about to walk through the door, and still that question haunts my thoughts – what on earth are you going to say?

Then it happens – the man himself walks in, strides straight over to my table and with a big smile and friendly eyes shakes my hand, and humbly introduces himself.

As if Reuben Agboola really needs to introduce himself! He played over 250 first-class games in his career, is a cult hero at both Southampton and Sunderland, and while at the former helped his side to the runners-up spot in the 1983-84 Division 1 – Saints’ highest ever final league position.

He also featured nine times for Nigeria, including seven appearances in the 1992 African Cup of Nations, where his country finished 3rd.

But his native country almost remained Agboola-less permanently following some trouble getting into the country before his first cap.

“I didn’t even have a Visa, because things were rushed so much,” recalls the 47-year-old.

“We were at the check-in queue at Heathrow, and they wouldn’t even give me a boarding card because I didn’t have a visa.

“I was with a friend from the Nigerian FA – he was about 7ft, and dripping in Armani!

“He basically asked for the names of the staff at the check-in, because he wouldn’t take the rap if one of the president’s Super Eagles players wasn’t allowed into the country.

“We managed to get our boarding cards in the end!”

However, this wasn’t quite the end of the fun and games for the soon-to-be International footballer.

Having made it out of England, Agboola was met with another obstacle in Nigeria.

“At the Nigerian airport they were all looking through my English passport to try and find my visa!”

The rest, as they say, is history, and Agboola made it to the squad in good time – almost.

“I didn’t realise until later the rest of the guys had been waiting for my arrival so we could go and play a practice match.”

That “practice” match was against the local Lagos team at the national stadium, just two days before a competitive first team international.

“We were told we wouldn’t be needing shin pads. I got a massive gash down the front of my leg when one of their players came in with a tackle from the top.

“Their captain got sent off, and we lost 1-0. I remember thinking, wow, I can’t wait for Saturday!

“As it turns out though, the locals were better than the team we ended up playing that weekend – we won that one 5-0!”

Agboola, who did some coaching throughout his later career, retired from professional football following a brief spell with Swansea in 1992, though he did later turn out for Woking.

He became landlord of the “Sporting View” bar at the Southampton Sports Center, before relocating to Majorca, running a bar for a year.

He later returned to the south coast, where he currently works for a car company in Southampton.

“I evaluate whatever turns up, and get to rip it to bits. The log books are the worst part – we can’t sell the cars without them!

“Everything is computerized these days, which is meant to be idiot-proof, but it is really not – my boss manages to get it wrong all the time.

“It’s OK though, because it means I can get away with blaming him for just about anything!”

When he is not at work, Reuben is a keen golfer – as evidenced by the clubs present behind his desk in his office.

“I never go too far without my clubs, just in case I need to make a quick getaway!” he laughs.

Photography and article by James McLean.

Incidentally, the image on the top right, along with 2 of my other images taken on the same day, were published in the Sunderland match day programme against West Ham United at the Stadium of Light on 31st October 2009.

Book Review – Carra: My Autobiography (Jamie Carragher)

My apologies. My bad. I was wrong. I’m sorry.

Carra: My Autobiography - Pure 23 Carra Gold

Take those words in, because once I’ve formed an opinion of someone it doesn’t often change.

In the case of Jamie Carragher, however, an apology is definitely owed.

Several years ago, I would laugh and mock his very presence in the Liverpool team. The reasons for this are actually unbeknownst to myself, though I suspect I just saw him play one of his very occasional howlers and decided he was no good.

Over the past couple of years or so, however, I’ve been surprised to find myself slowly warming to seeing him on the pitch – even becoming close to what could be described as a fan of his.

So, when I was handed his autobiography, “Carra”, I was interested to see what was contained within the pages – and also to see what my own reaction would be towards the man behind the player I’ve watched loyally serve Liverpool for years.

If you asked me to describe this book in three words, they would be easy to pick.

“Oh”, “my” and “god”.

This book is one I seriously could not put down. Like the Bret Hart publication, I could not wait to finish it. Unlike the Bret Hart book, however, in this case it is because I was actually loving every word of it.

The thought that has gone into it is astounding, and while as an autobiography it obviously tells the story of the life of one of Liverpool’s greatest modern day servants, the opinions and ideas expressed within the covers of this tome are a joy to behold in themselves.

So too are the anecdotes presented forthwith – most often laugh out loud, but on occasion should at least raise a smile of the most hardened critic.

As someone born and bred in the north east, I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at Carragher’s “sympathy” towards Michael Owen for ending up playing for Newcastle, but the punchline had me compromising (crying tears of laughter) – “also because he had to make his children go to school there. They might have Geordie accents, for God’s sake.”

I’m sorry, but if you can’t laugh at that stage, you are not reading the book at all.

His accounts of his personal life – most notably his wife Nicola and their kids, make for great reading, and I must confess I also was in fits of laughter when he recounts his proposal to Nicola one Christmas day. I mainly laugh simply because its funny, but it also struck a particular chord with me because that is almost identical to how I proposed to my wife myself.

And it is stories like this that really make you think “this guy is a normal human being, just like the rest of us.”

This is one of my greatest criticisms of most autobiographies – the authors write about these world famous people as if it is an everyday occurrence to have them over for breakfast. For them I’m sure it is – but not for most. It’s often difficult to relate to them.

But Carragher writes from his own down-to-earth standpoint, expressing a tangible sense of awe when coming face to face with some of the world’s most talented footballers – you almost feel like you are standing by his side during the events he recounts.

Far too often it is easy to read an autobiography and feel awkward at the opinions expressed, or even a factual account of events – but in Jamie’s case, it is usually difficult to even disagree with what he says, let alone argue against the points in question.

The publication from Transworld Publishers Ltd can be purchased for less than £4 on play.com for a paperback copy. That is less than an hour’s wages, and the content within will provide the reader with several hours of enthralling reading – if you are anything like me, that is a guarantee.

Support England’s 2018 World Cup Bid

Apologies for my recent absence from blogging, more are being written as we speak but lately time has been short (to cut a long story, erm…short).

I just wanted to write this quick message to everyone to encourage you to get the widget (click here) above, and vote for England to get the 2018 World Cup!

We haven’t hosted the event since that legendary year in 1966. What a great year that was for football – Eric Cantona was born, Everton won the FA Cup, Liverpool won the league and – oh yeah, the three lions kind of won the tournament in question too.

We need the world’s support to capture the greatest of footballing spectacles, and you can also cast your votes towards which cities should be permitted to host the matches as well.

Obviously, if you are a football fan from England, chances are you will be supporting our bid for the World Cup – the opportunity to potentially see some of the world’s best footballers down your street is surely too good to pass up.

So come on lads and ladettes – cast your vote, wear your three lions on your chest (as well as your heart on your sleeve) and let’s get the cream of the footballing crop over to the green fields of England!

Moving Forward, Or Living In The Past?

So there I was a couple of nights ago, wanting to write a new blog. What could I write about? Literally, I have no amusing alternatives here – my mind was blank.

As my wife slept next to me, I was watching TV thanks to my magic eye linking my sky box to the bedroom, and came across a rather interesting piece on goal-line technology.

“Wow,” I thought, “this could be an interesting thing to write about”.

So I set to writing – for about 2 hours, and ended up with this huge piece with little or no interest whatsoever (about normal, I hear you say). So, I figured, “sack it”, turned the lappy off and went to sleep.

If only I had something – a lead which could give my whole piece some meaning, shape and/or form – but short of one incident 20 odd years ago (ironically – as it turns out – involving Crystal Palace) I couldn’t really come up with anything concrete.

I’m not a religious man, but on Saturday afternoon – the first day of the long-awaited new football season – God spoke (or Satan, depending on whether you are a Palace fan or not).

Palace striker Freddie Sears must have figured it would be a fruitful season when his shot on 34 minutes nestled into the back of Bristol’s net – and ran away to celebrate with his team mates.

Until, that is, referee Rob Shoebridge outrageously awarded a goal kick!

At first I thought he’d figured it hit the post, but the only reason to award a goal kick was if it hit the advertising boards behind the goal – and ANYONE could see that hadn’t happened.

And this only just solidifies the argument I was going to make the other night – goal-line technology is now a must.

Football used to be just a sport – if a bad decision was made, what the hell – it was only a game (albeit a most beautiful one). But nowadays, when football clubs are businesses for the rich and not-always-so-famous, why oh why haven’t the FA moved to give some sort of technology to match Britain’s number 1 sport to a similar level to that of rugby and even cricket?

Are they genuine in their desire to move forward, or are they actually wishing to simply carry on living in the past?

Technology exists that can show a referee’s watch whether a ball fully crossed the line or not – that has been proven. So why not do the refs a favour and award it?

Obviously, it will cost money – but this writer is not in a position to realistically speculate how much, and whether the FA can do it. But logic states the FA should have funds for development of the domestic game – this one small step can provide a giant leap forward for English football.

On the show I was watching, former FA man Brian Barwick made a case against goal-line technology which strikes me as somewhat weak.

” I call it technological creepage. We start with goal-line, then we do offsides, then we do penalty incidents football has to be really robust as it is at the moment without goal-line technology.”

So then, the stance appears to be that this would force the FA to introduce more technological advances – but would that be a bad thing?

I get that football needs to be robust, as Mr Barwick himself said – and I even agree with that. But when it gets to the point that one single bad decision from the referee can ultimately lead to a club’s relegation, costing the owners between £20m – £70m (depending on which reports you read), I’m fairly sure many clubs that could afford it would even contribute to these improvements.

The old adage states that one must speculate to accumulate, so this could be an insurance policy for all clubs – spend this small amount of money to help maintain domestic standards, and only be relegated if you genuinely didn’t get the goals you needed – in which case it’s back to the drawing board and start again.

Crystal Palace’s goal yesterday was perfectly good, and this whole debacle could have been avoided had this technology at least been being trialled.

It cost them a single point yesterday – but, as any fan of any club will know, that one point could be worth 20 at the end of the season if it helps them get where they need to be.

And the aftermath was eerily reminiscent of the other famous occasion that such an event happened in 1980 – when Clive Allen of – you guessed it – Crystal Palace struck a shot into the top corner, which – you guessed it again – hit the stanchion and rebounded onto the pitch, where the referee declared – you guessed it once more – that it had hit the woodwork.

The bad sign for Palace fans? Eight months after that incident in 1980, Palace were relegated. Not that history has THAT much of a habit of repeating itself – does it?

Smashing the Window

Ludicrous. Ridiculous. Stupid. Idiotic. No, I’m not describing myself here (not intentionally anyway, but if the glove fits), but rather echoing some of the voices around the UK in the last few years.

What could they be describing here? MP’s expenses claims perhaps? Maybe it is the fact that “Have I Got News For You” still hasn’t realised that the show had never been quite the same since Angus Deyton got sacked for reasons no-one really gives a damn about anymore anyway?

Or maybe I am referring to the fact that the BBC STILL doesn’t seem to want to commission any more Red Dwarf?

No – that to which I am referring is, of course, the transfer window.

Time to smash the transfer window and re-open transfers during the season.

The entity which was brought in to better administrate players’ transfers, allowing managers to sign players at times they are most likely to need them. Great in theory.

However – not a great thing for the fans, for the media and more often than not, for the players and managers involved in the game as a whole.

Gone are the days when a star striker would get a long-term injury so managers could snap up a replacement and give him time to settle in.

Gone, too, are the days when one could wake up on a morning and suddenly get that marvellous feeling that your club is on the verge of signing a top class player, and he should have joined by lunchtime. None of that now.

Now, we have months of speculation that a player “may wish to review his options nearer the end of his contract (if he really has to see out that legally binding piece of paper in the first place)”, and he seems set to join a mid-table Premier League club until one of the bigger clubs decide they can snap him up, never play him and make a tidy profit a year or two down the line – having given the situation a good few months’ consideration.

Today, we have to watch as our captain – who has already signed an agreement with a bigger club – struggles to muster up the mask of enthusiasm when all he really wants to do is high tail it out of there into his new club.

Remember back when players COULD sign a pre-contractual agreement, but if they did they must keep it secret, and their form invariably suffered to the point that the fans would be glad to get rid of them anyway? Well, that is effectively what is happening now.

It means clubs without the financial clout or status have trouble keeping hold of their own better players, let alone snap up some more – play power is now sacrosanct, and if they want to leave there is little their employers can effectively do to change their minds.

When the window wasn’t around, we’d see clubs sign one or two decent players across the duration of the season, perhaps with two or three more big signings in the summer. And now look at it!

Brentford boss Andy Scott has just signed young keeper Simon Moore, who becomes his 11th signing of the summer. Eleven signings in one summer! Admittedly, in Brentford’s case – and in the case of Andy Scott himself – good on them, because they are clearly planning well for the future, ensuring strength in depth to mean they shouldn’t have to go without during that spell when signing players becomes next to impossible.

But is this a sign that the transfer window works fine, or does it just highlight the point that clubs – particularly in the lower leagues – are forced to buy during set times, rather than spreading their signings out across the season when they are perhaps in a financially better position to be able to afford the deal up front, or at least LESS of it going on debt?

Sure, while the transfer window is shut there are contingency plans in place, but only for extreme circumstances. This leads to managers’ panic buying, meaning that more signings now as opposed to before the turn of the millennium are turning out to be flops.

I don’t mean to generalise there – but it is a fact. Michael Timbury said back at the start of February that the window needs to be shut permanently – and whilst he came in for a touch of argument for that comment, in principle I agree wholeheartedly – bring back an open transfer policy.

Allow managers to sign who they want, when they want – I remember reading that the previous transfer system was technically illegal as applying similar rules in other trades and fields of work would cause meltdown – but if it didn’t in football, why fix what wasn’t broken?

The day Andy Cole left Newcastle was a shocking day for every football fan in the country – it was a bolt out of the blue. But with the system we have now, all of that magic is effectively gone.

With the advent of the internet coupled with transfers usually being completed well in advance, there aren’t really many surprise transfers anymore – the biggest shock of the summer seemed to be Michael Owen’s transfer to Man United, but even that was reported a few days in advance (months in some cases).

Another factor is that players who help their clubs overachieve (as they invariably seem to do at the start of the season) are seemingly always poached away by a bigger club in January, leaving their former club without their star player. And believe me, that star player really could mean the difference between Premier League and Championship football the following season.

Granted, without the transfer window these players could move at any time – but wouldn’t that be a good thing? Without the transfer window, said star striker could move away in October or November, giving the manager some much needed time and transfer money to effectively replace him, rather than having to sign the first half-decent player that seems inclined to join them.

And even if these star players left later in the year – that could still mean more points he’s won for his old club.

As Mr. Timbury said however, this would mean the FA having to get up and take action. Just as he would rather keep breathing than hold it in, I think I’ll tuck away my ground-to-pig missiles for the time being and just pray that Sunderland can keep hold of Kenwyne Jones until September.

Does that make me a hypocrite, or a realist?

Predictions – Premier League 2009/10

Liverpool to win Premier League 2009/10?

This is it ladies and gents!

All the months of waiting are almost over – only 4 more days to go (that’s little over 97 hours from the time of writing, or 5820 minutes, or 349200 seconds – not that I’m counting) until Chelsea kick off the brand new Barclays Premier League season to host Hull at 12.45 on Saturday.

While this summer’s epic transfer sagas made Lawrence of Arabia look like a short documentary, the wheelings and dealings of gaffers up and down the country will not cease until the very last second – until the window closes promptly for another few months.

So, today’s topic – well, there are going to be two. Firstly, who will fare well this season (and who will be saying farewell), and secondly – that blasted transfer window. I’ve always been one for saving the best till last, and so my first topic today will be a quick analysis of Premier Leagues past, and see if I can somehow justify the chances of a non-billionaire club sneaking ahead of these giants.

Will this season finally see someone OTHER than United, Chelsea, Liverpool or Arsenal break in and cement their place in the top 4?

What a far cry the modern game is from the early days of the Carling Premiership – at the end of the Premiership’s first month of existence, the bottom two clubs were – you guessed it – Manchester United and Arsenal.

True class shone through in the end though, and arguably one of the best teams to play football in the domestic game rose through the ranks as United laid to rest their ghosts of 12 months previous (when they finished a narrow second to Leeds), winning the first Premiership by a comfortable 10 points.

In that season, Liverpool finished 6th, Arsenal 10th and Chelsea 11th – and the primary title contenders seemed to be among a handful of clubs that included United, Villa (who finished 2nd), unfancied Norwich City (3rd), Blackburn (4th) and QPR (5th)!

At the time of writing this, only Aston Villa (and United of course) from this list have not been outside of the top flight since its inception, with Blackburn getting disastrously relegated just four short years after taking the title in 1995. Norwich fell in 1995, and QPR slipped away just one year later.

QPR are yet to return to the top flight despite possessing some of the most powerful finances in world football, though Norwich did make one brief return in the 2004/05 season, which inevitably ended in relegation once again.

The primary inconsistency here, however, is that these were in the days before the REAL money came into the Premiership. Back then, there were only a handful of non-British players in the entire league, as opposed to today where there may only be a handful of British players per club.

Businessmen saw the opportunities – primarily from the TV money being brought in from Sky’s coverage – and suddenly the market was saturated with clubs being bought relatively cheaply, money being ploughed in and these clubs rising to the top.

Sure thing, in Arsenal’s case one could attribute their rise to a legitimately intelligent manager in Arsene Wenger, but they certainly don’t seem to be short of a bob or two. Liverpool have been bought and now have money, but their rich tradition has always made them an attractive prospect for players looking to move onto this small island.

Chelsea were always CONSIDERED title contenders, but never really seemed to seriously threaten United and whoever their title rivals may have been in any given season. But then came the likes of Zola, Gullitt and Vialli and things started to change – culminating in a takeover from a certain Roman, and suddenly Chelsea were competing with the Devils, the Kop and the Gunners.

Everton chairman Bill Kenwright famously stated that clubs couldn’t hope to compete unless they had billions behind them – and that is a philosophy I reluctantly agree with. With Manchester City’s recent takeover, it wouldn’t surprise me if the term “The Big Four” was squashed and “The Big Five” brought in to replace it.

So, to sum up, the big four will remain the same as always, though I think this may well be Liverpool’s year, with Manchester City sneaking in there somewhere as well (probably 4th or 5th). Everton and Aston Villa have the quality and appeal to compete early on, but I fear that the money will show towards the end of the season and I predict 6th and 7th places respectively.

As for relegation – as sorry as I am to say this, I can’t look beyond Stoke, Wolves and Burnley, though other clubs such as Hull, Birmingham and my own beloved Sunderland will likely be battling for their lives as well.

Whatever happens, it should make for an interesting season, and god its felt like such a long time coming!

Foster’s Fabulous Future

I know what you are thinking. Why on earth would I specifically choose footage of yesterday’s FA Community Shield to highlight just why I think Ben Foster will be a future England number 1, and potentially even a future captain?

Why would I do that? The keeper had (with all due respect – and I have a lot of respect for this guy) a bit of a howler – almost giving two goals away with sloppy play on the ball, and having far from the best couple of hours of his career in general.

His shot stopping may have been OK, but most of his saves were just that – stopping the shot. He didn’t catch as many as I’d have thought, preferring to just keep it away from the net and then picking it up after having parried a shot directed more or less straight at him.

He didn’t look comfortable with the ball at his feet – as I said earlier, almost gifting Chelsea with a couple of sloppy goals.

However, for me, he is still easily one of the best – if not THE best – England has at the moment.

Did you see the attitude he presented, the absolute command of his own penalty area?

When receiving a back pass, and taking far too much time on the ball and allowing Chelsea a chance, the glare he shot at his defence as though THEY had done something wrong was absolute class, and more than a touch reminiscent of a certain Great Dane who used to wear the United keepers’ jersey.

His size is another positive factor – for a big guy, he is just as agile as any other keeper out there, and the fact that United boss Sir Alex Ferguson shelled out £1m for his services from Stoke in 2005 is a telling sign that this guy has a bright future ahead of him.

Despite his shaky performance, Foster still retains faith from his manager – the man who knows just about everything in football. It is no strange occurrence for a keeper to have a howler for United and rarely play for them again (Massimo Taibi anyone?) but Sir Alex remains unshaken from this display, having opted for Foster ahead of United’s other understudy, Tomasz Kuszczak, in the absence of the injured Edwin van der Sar.

“Knowing Ben and the ability which he has, he should have done better with the second goal,” Sir Alex told skysports.com.

“However, it was his first big challenge. He has waited a long time, has had his injuries and in pre-season I spread the load between the three keepers, and maybe we did not have enough minutes for him.

“But the important thing is, knowing his ability, it means I do not have any worries about him.”

As he has been proven right against all the odds time and time again, I firmly believe Sir Alex has hit the nail on the proverbial head once again. As I said before, Foster has it all – the size, the agility, the attitude and the commanding presence – and I firmly believe that sets him above all other England keepers right now, and experience may even make him the best England keeper since the great David Seaman hung up his gloves.