Michael Essien – Chelsea’s Perpetual Motion Man
In the summer of 2005, just after José Mourinho had made Chelsea the champions of England for the first time in fifty years, Michael Essien signed for the club. Olympique Lyonnais had found a bid of around £25million too difficult to rebuff. Two Ligue 1 titles in as many seasons with Les Gones illustrated Essien’s ability and his presence would serve to further ramp up the quality of the midfield of a team that had just romped away with the Premier League title by a dozen points.
In the 2004-05 season, a midfield trio of Lampard, Makélélé and Tiago had metaphorically swept all before them, but when Mourinho described the Ghanaian as being, “the best we can get for his position and he can play anywhere in midfield,” it was clear that the 22-year-old had been lined up to take over from the manager’s compatriot. Here was a player of such abundant physical reserves that, after a metronomic display in a pulsating midfield, legend had it that he would go for a run to burn off surplus energy. Continue reading →
Chris Nicholl – Own goals, a great goal and the heavy price to pay.
There’s an indisputable glamour about being a professional footballer in the top ranks of the game. There’s fame, fortune and the adoration of fans to bask in, offering a glowing warmth to soothe away any aches, pains and bruises earned on the exercise of the occupation. Of late, such riches and rewards have galloped away into the stratosphere, a place hardly seen, let alone comprehended by us lesser mortals, standing and watching. Roll the clock back 40 years or so though, and whilst there’s still adulation and at least an element of wealth and celebrity, for so many players of a certain genre from that era – and perhaps others to come – the price now being demanded of them is truly catastrophic. There are many slips and stumbles, often painted as disasters in a career, but it’s only when real tragedy strikes that such things attain their true perspective. Continue reading →
“What’s this geezer doing? He’s hopeless!” – Ali Dia’s 53 minutes of Premier League infamy.
If you’re the manager of a Premier League club and your secretary wants to put a call through to you from “George Weah” odds are you’re at least going to take the call. When, to many, it quickly becomes clear that there’s doubt whether it is the estimable Mr Weah – three-time African Football of the Year, star of PSG, AC Milan and Chelsea – and you realise that the man on the other end of the line is asking you to sign ‘his cousin’ for your club, it may be time to hang up the ‘phone. Continue reading →
Clive Thomas and “the most controversial decision that any referee has ever made.”
Back in 1981, Tottenham and Wolverhampton Wanderers played an FA Cup semi-final at Hillsborough. It was a game that I happened to be present at – my wife’s family all being dedicated Wolves fans. Late on in the game, Spurs looked to be on the way to Wembley, having been given the lead for a second time with a goal from Glenn Hoddle. Wolves had huffed and puffed, but this time, the house didn’t look like it was going to be blown down. Then, with time ticking away, Kenny Hibbitt ran into the Spurs penalty to be challenged by Hoddle. The midfielder fell to the floor and the referee, to the astonishment of Spurs players and fans, and the surprised delight of those clad in old gold and black, pointed to the spot. You know that phrase? “Never in a million years…” Yeah, it was one of them. Willie Carr stepped up to score and the game went to a reply, which Spurs won 3-0. Continue reading →
Ray Parlour – The Romford Pelé
Anyone knowingly comparing himself to the legendary Brazilian may initially be perceived as being somewhat ambitious in his self-appraisal. Despite the title of this article being borrowed from the player’s autobiography however, such an assessment of Ray Parlour would be wide of the mark. Not adverse to a slice of self-deprecation, Parlour certainly doesn’t rate his abilities as a footballer as comparable to Pelé. It’s a nom de guerre spoken with tongue firmly in cheek, allegedly gifted to him by Dutch former tam-mate Marc Overmars. Continue reading →
Rafael van der Vaart – When Dutch magic lived at White Hart Lane
Interviewed by ‘FourFourTwo’ in May 2019, Rafael van der Vaart remarked that, “I shouldn’t have left Tottenham, but AVB wasn’t the right coach for me.” Despite the recent success and progress now being enjoyed under Mauricio Pochettino, it’s a sentiment that so many Spurs fans would sympathise with, as when van der Vaart was at Spurs, Dutch magic lived at White Hart Lane.A Maverick player is often idolised by fans and that was certainly the case with van der Vaart at Tottenham. Continue reading →
The exquisite life and mysterious death of Matthias Sindelar – Austria’s ‘Papery Man’.
On 23 January 1939, Gustav Hartman knocked on the door of his friend’s flat in Vienna. By almost any definition, at the time, Vienna was a city under occupation. Hitler’s Wehrmacht had swept across the border in March of the previous year in what was portrayed as the Anschluss. Previously independent Austria was swallowed up and redefined as merely part of the greater Germany. The situation in Vienna was anything but normal therefore, and for Hartman standing outside the flat, waiting for someone to respond to his insistent demands for attention, things were about to become even more sinister. Continue reading →
Ray Clemence – The White Hart Lane years.
In 1981, at the age of 33, Ray Clemence decided to leave Liverpool. He had been with the club since 24 June 1967, when Bill Shankly paid a reported £18,000 to Scunthorpe United to take the goalkeeper to Anfield. Across the next 14 years or so, Clemence would accumulate enough silverware to fill the most ostentatious of trophy cabinets. Five League Championships, FA Cup and League Cup triumphs and five Charity Shields added up to a sizeable domestic haul, but there was also substantial success in Europe. No less than three European Cups came his way, along with two UEFA Cups and a UEFA Super Cup. With that lot bringing towards 20 medals, it’s a good job that Clemence had pretty safe hands if he was ever required to hold them all at the same time. Continue reading →
Barcelona and St Mirren – ‘Buddies’ for ever – The tale of a trophy and a tour.
The fortunes of FC Barcelona and St Mirren Football Club may seem a million miles apart. Well, geographically, the distance between Paisley and the Catalan capital is a tad more than 1,300 miles actually, but in footballing metaphorical terms, the gap is much wider. Strange as it may seem to some however, there are more than a few links tying the two clubs together. It’s one of those ‘strange but true’ scenarios that only football seems capable of throwing up, involving bidding for a Brazilian, imitation being the sincerest form of flattery and an invitation to a new home. Continue reading →
Bobby Robson and the almost perfect season.
In May 1996, Barcelona were a club in turmoil. Having experienced the delirious heights of success with Johann Cruyff’s ‘Dream Team’ delivering no less than eleven trophies in eight seasons, including the Holy Grail of the European Cup, the relationship between Catalan club and revered Dutchman had been torn asunder. Any divorce between an employer and the emotional, impulsive, and often combustive Cruyff would always be messy, but this split would make ‘Kramer versus Kramer’ look tame in comparison. Continue reading →
