- By Fat Nakago
- 15 September, 2011
- No Comments
At the risk of sounding unpatriotic and callous, I really don’t have much to say about the passing of the 10th anniversary of 9/11. The world is what it is. Life has moved along. I have nothing much to say about it that would add anything substantive to the discussion, anymore than I have anything substantive to add at the moment about Pearl Harbor, or the Assassinations of John F. Kennedy or Martin Luther King.
I will say this however. Before Sunday’s match with West Brom at Carrow Road, Norwich City UK, there was a minute of silence before the match began in remembrance. Also, my Norwich City Canaries wore black armbands in remembrance. That was nice to see.
As for the match, well….Peter Fackin’ Odemwingie made a goat of Ritchie de Laet and slapped a goal upside the Canaries head at the 3 minute mark for the only score the game.
Not be a whiner like…..oh fuck it….I’ll be a whiner. The rest of the match was MOSTLY determined by the dismal refereeing by Mark Halsey. Again, Norwich got screwed. Although, Declan Rudd made a great save on the penalty kick at the 76 minute mark…it was a penalty that should not even have been awarded West Brom. The injury was added to the insult later when James Vaughn was elbowed in the area cracking his jaw and as the blood poured down from his split lip calling for a penalty, no penalty was called. Absolute bollocks. So screw you Mark Halsey.
Hmmmm. That counts as a loss, yes?? After all, the Champions League Group Stage figured to be a walk in the park for Sir Alex and the Boys. But Benfica had other ideas. They obviously missed the meeting were everyone was told that Man U was to win Group C without a loss or a draw. Or if they were in attendance, they studiously ignored that admonition. Oscar Cardoza put Benfica ahead at the 24 minute mark.
It took a cracker by old man Giggs to equalize. And that was it. Rooney was shite. Chicharito and Nani could not save the day. Ashley Young and Tom Cleverly were not even named to the squad.
So….I guess Sir Alex was looking ahead to Saturday’s tilt with Chelsea. Perhaps he was looking a bit too FAR ahead.
Chelsea was also looking forward to their tilt with Man U. They left John Terry in the stands, and brought Lampard and Anelka off the bench. But unlike Sir Alex, AVB didn’t look TOO far ahead. He kept his eyes on the matter at hand.
And I hope he liked what he saw as much as I did from the work of Fernando Torres and his interplay with Mata, Malouda and Luiz. It seemed like a reverse of what was to be expected. Torres the playmaker for Mata the striker. It was meant to be the other way around. But Nando’s two assists were things of beauty and crucial for the win.
Of course, a £50m signing is not there to just to get assists, he’s there to score goals. But for now, Scoreboard.
And the scoreboard I speak of is the one at Old Trafford. That’s the one that matters at the moment. And I want to see a brace of goals, in addition to a brace of assists from Nando on Sunday.
This one can’t be blamed on Mario Balotelli. He wasn’t named to the squad. But really now, this too counts as a loss. The Noisy Neighbors didn’t make anymore noise in the Champions League than their more quiet and cunning neighbors. Hold on, the telephone is ringing. Hang on a minute.
Sorry about that.
Yeh…that was Robert Mancini telling me about how everything is cool and they will beat the meatballs out of Bayern München when they dash over there in a fortnight. I politely wished Mr. Mancini good luck with that. I mean, what else was I to say? There was naught to be gained by rubbing his nose in it. They lost a valuable 2 points in their own house, and they expect to make that up in Munich?
Not bloody likely.
And in case you were wondering.
I was originally planing on calling this post The Return Of T.S. Eliot. A bit more all-encompassing. But…and imagine the irony of it, I couldn’t think of one single thing to say about Joey Barton this week other than the horrible fact that he now plays for Queens Park Rangers. Plus, I’ve been beaten to the J. Alfred Prufrock punch on Joey.
So there it is. Maybe it’s all about Nando. The Return of Little Gidding.
Make of it what you will.