My trip to Leeds yesterday was not just to sit at Headingley and watch the first day's play of the Championship encounter between God's own county and their north-east rivals Durham.
My journey did have a more pressing purpose in talking to David Hall, the curator of the new Yorkshire Cricket Museum at Headingley, which opened its doors to the public for the first time yesterday - the occasion being the first day of cricket at Yorkshire's home this season.
But it was the cricket, not the museum, that most captured my imagination.
It was a typically chilly April day. The sky was grey and sullen throughout but with the lack of any moisture having fallen from that sky in recent times, the Headingley pitch looked far too white and hard to tempt Durham to bowl first after winning the toss.
And Michael Di Venuto was delighted they did choose to bat as he took advantage of the one four ball that occured in almost every over to stroll his way to a half-century almost without anyone noticing.
Durham were flying along until the unlikeliest of heroes, Richard Pyrah, came on to bowl. The medium-pace allrounder suddenly began to frustrate Di Venuto as he sent down six, rather than five, good balls in each over, thus drying up the runs and creating a bit of pressure.
The breakthrough came about a quarter of an hour before lunch, golden-arm Pyrah trapping Di Venuto lbw for 74. And when Adam Lyth took a good low catch at first slip to dismiss Gordon Muchall in the same over, suddenly it was Yorkshire who would take some momentum into the luncheon interval.
Two quick wickets after the break brought Michael Richardson to the crease, apparently a late replacement for Phil (Colonel) Mustard due to a sore toe, I learnt after the end of the day's play. I had no clue who Richardson was when his name was announced over the PA system, but I assumed he was a youngster who had not played many games. Only when he had reached fifty did I learn through the PA announcer that he was on debut. You could not tell.
His technique looked good and his knock of 67 was better than Di Venuto's because he had less dross to feed from (although Adil Rashid did bowl a couple of short balls and a full-toss that he smashed away with ease).
Richardson looked so relaxed and composed considering he was making his first appearance in Championship cricket and some of his stroke-making was heavenly. One of his 10 fours was a beautiful straight drive off Pyrah that received admiring applause from surely everyone in the ground, and when Ryan Sidebottom came back on from the Rugby Ground end to try to capture his wicket, his first ball went sailing over square-leg for six. Richardson's pull shot was executed with superb timing and flair.
Research when I got home told me he is the son of former South African wicketkeeper-batsman Dave Richards, currently general manager of the ICC. South African blood but (presumably) eligible to play for England. Where have I heard that before? I was hoping he was a north-east born-and-bred lad from Chester-le-Street. Regardless of where he is from, he certainly looks a promising prospect with the bat.
When Richardson was dismissed by Pyrah with the score on 223, the Yorkshire faithful expected the last two wickets to fall pretty swiftly, but Liam Plunkett showed his prowess with the bat too, putting on 94 for the ninth wicket with Callum Thorp to sway the game in Durham's favour once more. Adam Lyth's very obvious disgust at another wayward Moin Ashraf delivery down the leg side that was clipped for four summed up the frustration in the stands in the last half hour.
Durham's innings should be wrapped up swiftly this morning, with their overnight score 326 for 9. It was certainly worth witnessing yesterday's cricket.
Friday 15 April 2011
Wednesday 13 April 2011
Football: Chelsea's £50m headache continues
Carlo Ancelotti made the right decision in starting Fernando Torres at Old Trafford last night. If he had not, it would have been a clear vote of no confidence in the Spaniard and thus Torres's confidence would have taken a further blow, meaning it would just take even longer to rebuild.
It was vital Ancelotti showed faith in his 50 million pound man in such an important game for the football club - and possibly for his own future at Chelsea. Torres must surely take something positive from that decision. If he does not, then he has not realised the magnitude of the occasion.
It has been the mightiest of migraines since game one. How do we fit Torres into our team? What role do we want him to play? What role should he play so as to get the best out of other players? There is no doubting Torres is of world class proportions, but should Chelsea have not asked themselves these questions and pondered whether he would be compatibile with the club's current attacking players before forking out an astronomical amount of money?
It is almost inconceivable that one of the world's most sought-after and prolific strikers has gone nearly 700 minutes on the field for Chelsea without scoring a goal. He also has precisely zero assists. But it just shows how a striker's confidence and belief in himself can plummet, and how not all the best players can be compatible and in harmony with one another to create success.
There was a moment within the first 10 minutes last night when Nicolas Anelka was raiding down the right-hand side, Torres making a run ahead of him and behind Rio Ferdinand, but just as Anelka played his through-ball for Torres, the Spaniard changed the direction of his run slightly, the ball running behind him and comfortably being collected by a defender and cleared. It was a moment that summed up their relationship.
You would think that two such quality players like Anelka and Torres could play together with great success, but so far their lack of understanding has been the most glaring of attributes.
It does not look like the situation will improve anytime soon either - not as long as Torres plays with about as much vigour and gusto as a dead goat. That now-familiar look of apathy and glumness as he wanders around the pitch, seemingly unwilling to break sweat in pressurising opponents, was not a surprise to witness once again, but some might have hoped for more given the importance of the match.
Ancelotti had no choice but to replace him with Didier Drogba at the break. He had given him the opportunity to show desire, appetite and passion to contribute to a Chelsea win and turn that corner that so desperately needs to be turned - yet the faith the Italian showed in Torres was not rewarded in any way whatsoever.
In contrast, Drogba was far livelier, and his one-two with Anelka before getting a shot away that flashed narrowly wide just before the hour mark underlined the improved on-field relationships. Whether that is due to time playing with one another, or just that they are more naturally in sync due to the type of player they are, is something open for debate. You would think, though, that Torres and Anelka have trained with each other for the last couple of months and been able to develop an understanding.
Whilst Torres managed just a weak header off target in the first half, the second half produced two efforts (one off, one on target) and a goal from Drogba. The Ivorian's clever drift in behind Patrice Evra as Michael Essien lifted the ball over to him, his delicate first touch with his puffed-out chest and his right-foot finish were executed with all the brilliance Torres can only dream about at the moment.
It was the right decision to start with Torres, but it was also brave, and in hindsight, it was also stupid. How Chelsea are going to get value for that £50m is the massive headache that does not look like going away too swiftly.
It was vital Ancelotti showed faith in his 50 million pound man in such an important game for the football club - and possibly for his own future at Chelsea. Torres must surely take something positive from that decision. If he does not, then he has not realised the magnitude of the occasion.
It has been the mightiest of migraines since game one. How do we fit Torres into our team? What role do we want him to play? What role should he play so as to get the best out of other players? There is no doubting Torres is of world class proportions, but should Chelsea have not asked themselves these questions and pondered whether he would be compatibile with the club's current attacking players before forking out an astronomical amount of money?
It is almost inconceivable that one of the world's most sought-after and prolific strikers has gone nearly 700 minutes on the field for Chelsea without scoring a goal. He also has precisely zero assists. But it just shows how a striker's confidence and belief in himself can plummet, and how not all the best players can be compatible and in harmony with one another to create success.
There was a moment within the first 10 minutes last night when Nicolas Anelka was raiding down the right-hand side, Torres making a run ahead of him and behind Rio Ferdinand, but just as Anelka played his through-ball for Torres, the Spaniard changed the direction of his run slightly, the ball running behind him and comfortably being collected by a defender and cleared. It was a moment that summed up their relationship.
You would think that two such quality players like Anelka and Torres could play together with great success, but so far their lack of understanding has been the most glaring of attributes.
It does not look like the situation will improve anytime soon either - not as long as Torres plays with about as much vigour and gusto as a dead goat. That now-familiar look of apathy and glumness as he wanders around the pitch, seemingly unwilling to break sweat in pressurising opponents, was not a surprise to witness once again, but some might have hoped for more given the importance of the match.
Ancelotti had no choice but to replace him with Didier Drogba at the break. He had given him the opportunity to show desire, appetite and passion to contribute to a Chelsea win and turn that corner that so desperately needs to be turned - yet the faith the Italian showed in Torres was not rewarded in any way whatsoever.
In contrast, Drogba was far livelier, and his one-two with Anelka before getting a shot away that flashed narrowly wide just before the hour mark underlined the improved on-field relationships. Whether that is due to time playing with one another, or just that they are more naturally in sync due to the type of player they are, is something open for debate. You would think, though, that Torres and Anelka have trained with each other for the last couple of months and been able to develop an understanding.
Whilst Torres managed just a weak header off target in the first half, the second half produced two efforts (one off, one on target) and a goal from Drogba. The Ivorian's clever drift in behind Patrice Evra as Michael Essien lifted the ball over to him, his delicate first touch with his puffed-out chest and his right-foot finish were executed with all the brilliance Torres can only dream about at the moment.
It was the right decision to start with Torres, but it was also brave, and in hindsight, it was also stupid. How Chelsea are going to get value for that £50m is the massive headache that does not look like going away too swiftly.
Sunday 27 March 2011
Cricket: England's World Cup post mortem
After exciting, thrilling and exasperating all us England fans during the group stages of the World Cup, the complete drubbing that was on the horizon finally came.
Following such a limp and listless quarter-final display against a far better Sri Lankan outfit, all of England's Group B scrapping and fighting, character, spirit and determination which saw them through to the knockout stages of the competition all seems a little pointless. If England had bowed out after another gloriously entertaining and close affair, competing with Sri Lanka all the way to the death, it perhaps would be easier to take.
Yet adjectives such as tired, jaded, exhausted and drained flow off the tongue once more as England's winter schedule is lambasted by many a respected commentator. But is this a legitimate reason, some might say excuse, for failure at a World Cup once again?
It certainly cannot be dismissed. Some, mostly the everyday men who follow England from their comfy sofas in front of Sky Sports, suggest the players should be fit and strong enough to cope with getting paid vast amounts of money to do a job they would do anything to be able to do. But it is about more than just physical fitness and professionalism.
Michael Yardy is a case in point. Being away from home for months and months, with a measly three days at home between the Ashes tour and the World Cup, takes its toll on minds as well as bodies. Top level sport is not only about being in peak physical condition. For cricketers especially, it is also about coping without loved ones for a serious amount of time, living in the back pockets of teammates 24-7 and being able to deal with that psychologically, as well as the pressure to succeed. It cannot be easy.
In my opinion, it is those mental strains more than the physical ones that have resulted in the negative body language and fed-up expressions so prevalent among Englishmen on the subcontinent.
However, it is not only the ludicrous scheduling of England's winter, having been on the road for five months, with, as I previously mentioned, just three days break before jetting off to the World Cup, which is to blame for another 50-over shambles. It also has a lot to do with a bizarre selection policy when it comes to one-day cricket.
After the Ashes glory had been briefly revelled in, it was straight to work on preparation for the World Cup, starting with a 50-over tour match against a Prime Minister's XI at Canberra. One would have thought that the perfect opportunity to field the XI, barring injuries, in the selectors' and coaches' minds to play in the World Cup - in batting order.
Yet, a typically confused selection hodgepodge ensued. Ian Bell did not open the batting for England at the World Cup until yesterday's quarter-final, despite scoring 124 not out from 102 balls when opening in that match against the Prime Minister's XI. He opened the batting with Steven Davies, who also opened up in England's first ODI against Australia at the MCG in January, when he scored 42 from 35 balls - a strike rate of 120 - before being dropped for the second ODI.
Instead, totally out of the blue, Kevin Pietersen was chosen as Andrew Strauss' opening partner for the World Cup. Steven Davies, and not even Matt Prior, who had replaced Davies during the ODI series in Australia, were clearly deemed not up to the task. It surely does not help a side's preparation when so much indecision and lack of continuity pervades the camp so close to the biggest tournament cricket has to offer.
Then there was the mistake of Michael Yardy and James Tredwell. Tredwell had not picked up a wicket in just three ODIs before going to the World Cup, and Yardy's figures down under during the Australia ODI series were far from impressive. I mentioned in a previous blog that Yardy's inability to actually turn the ball and the fact that batsmen have now worked out his unorthodoxy and variations did not make him an adequate back-up to Graeme Swann on the subcontinent.
Personally, I would have loved to see both Samit Patel and Adil Rashid support Swann at the World Cup. Not only are they younger and would have been fresher than Yardy and Tredwell, but they are also better batsmen. To have the world's best offspinner twirl away, complemented by a left-arm spinner and a legspinner on subcontinent pitches would have really been a formula for success in my opinion.
Clearly the England management thought it too risky. Their opinion of Rashid seems to be that he is still too raw and inexperienced, whereas Patel was left out (after being picked for the 30-man provisional squad) because of the ridiculous, fitness-crazed, ultra-professional approach that now embodies international cricket.
I struggle to understand why if a slightly rounder body shape than normal for an elite cricketer was good enough for Graham Gooch, Allan Lamb, Mike Gatting or even Ian Botham or Andrew Flintoff, why it is now unacceptable for Samit Patel.
There are many other reasons I could contemplate for England's continued failures in the 50-over World Cup, but perhaps we should now finally concentrate on enjoying a marvellous Ashes victory achieved down under for the first time in 24 years. We as fans, let alone the players, have barely had chance to.
When one also considers England have retained the Ashes in Australia as well as won their first ICC world trophy, the World Twenty20, in the last 12 months, it has not been a bad year really.
Following such a limp and listless quarter-final display against a far better Sri Lankan outfit, all of England's Group B scrapping and fighting, character, spirit and determination which saw them through to the knockout stages of the competition all seems a little pointless. If England had bowed out after another gloriously entertaining and close affair, competing with Sri Lanka all the way to the death, it perhaps would be easier to take.
Yet adjectives such as tired, jaded, exhausted and drained flow off the tongue once more as England's winter schedule is lambasted by many a respected commentator. But is this a legitimate reason, some might say excuse, for failure at a World Cup once again?
It certainly cannot be dismissed. Some, mostly the everyday men who follow England from their comfy sofas in front of Sky Sports, suggest the players should be fit and strong enough to cope with getting paid vast amounts of money to do a job they would do anything to be able to do. But it is about more than just physical fitness and professionalism.
Michael Yardy is a case in point. Being away from home for months and months, with a measly three days at home between the Ashes tour and the World Cup, takes its toll on minds as well as bodies. Top level sport is not only about being in peak physical condition. For cricketers especially, it is also about coping without loved ones for a serious amount of time, living in the back pockets of teammates 24-7 and being able to deal with that psychologically, as well as the pressure to succeed. It cannot be easy.
In my opinion, it is those mental strains more than the physical ones that have resulted in the negative body language and fed-up expressions so prevalent among Englishmen on the subcontinent.
However, it is not only the ludicrous scheduling of England's winter, having been on the road for five months, with, as I previously mentioned, just three days break before jetting off to the World Cup, which is to blame for another 50-over shambles. It also has a lot to do with a bizarre selection policy when it comes to one-day cricket.
After the Ashes glory had been briefly revelled in, it was straight to work on preparation for the World Cup, starting with a 50-over tour match against a Prime Minister's XI at Canberra. One would have thought that the perfect opportunity to field the XI, barring injuries, in the selectors' and coaches' minds to play in the World Cup - in batting order.
Yet, a typically confused selection hodgepodge ensued. Ian Bell did not open the batting for England at the World Cup until yesterday's quarter-final, despite scoring 124 not out from 102 balls when opening in that match against the Prime Minister's XI. He opened the batting with Steven Davies, who also opened up in England's first ODI against Australia at the MCG in January, when he scored 42 from 35 balls - a strike rate of 120 - before being dropped for the second ODI.
Instead, totally out of the blue, Kevin Pietersen was chosen as Andrew Strauss' opening partner for the World Cup. Steven Davies, and not even Matt Prior, who had replaced Davies during the ODI series in Australia, were clearly deemed not up to the task. It surely does not help a side's preparation when so much indecision and lack of continuity pervades the camp so close to the biggest tournament cricket has to offer.
Then there was the mistake of Michael Yardy and James Tredwell. Tredwell had not picked up a wicket in just three ODIs before going to the World Cup, and Yardy's figures down under during the Australia ODI series were far from impressive. I mentioned in a previous blog that Yardy's inability to actually turn the ball and the fact that batsmen have now worked out his unorthodoxy and variations did not make him an adequate back-up to Graeme Swann on the subcontinent.
Personally, I would have loved to see both Samit Patel and Adil Rashid support Swann at the World Cup. Not only are they younger and would have been fresher than Yardy and Tredwell, but they are also better batsmen. To have the world's best offspinner twirl away, complemented by a left-arm spinner and a legspinner on subcontinent pitches would have really been a formula for success in my opinion.
Clearly the England management thought it too risky. Their opinion of Rashid seems to be that he is still too raw and inexperienced, whereas Patel was left out (after being picked for the 30-man provisional squad) because of the ridiculous, fitness-crazed, ultra-professional approach that now embodies international cricket.
I struggle to understand why if a slightly rounder body shape than normal for an elite cricketer was good enough for Graham Gooch, Allan Lamb, Mike Gatting or even Ian Botham or Andrew Flintoff, why it is now unacceptable for Samit Patel.
There are many other reasons I could contemplate for England's continued failures in the 50-over World Cup, but perhaps we should now finally concentrate on enjoying a marvellous Ashes victory achieved down under for the first time in 24 years. We as fans, let alone the players, have barely had chance to.
When one also considers England have retained the Ashes in Australia as well as won their first ICC world trophy, the World Twenty20, in the last 12 months, it has not been a bad year really.
Tuesday 22 March 2011
Darts: Premier League looks to recover from Scottish humiliation
This week the Premier League darts juggernaut plonks itself in Brighton for week seven of this year's extravaganza, hoping to restore its tarnished reputation following last week's Glasgow disgrace.
The Scottish darts 'fans' did nothing to disabuse the rest of the United Kingdom of the drunken yob stereotype that exists in many a person's mind when the country of Scotland is discussed. In fact, they seemed determined to strengthen that stereotype.
It was supposed to be World Championship runner-up Gary Anderson's glorious homecoming as he competes in his first Premier League campaign. The fact the proud Scot was due to play his world final conqueror Adrian Lewis in Glasgow only added humongous excitement and anticipation to the affair.
Yet, in complete contrast, the excitement and anticipation of the 6,000-strong Scottish crowd transformed itself into mindless and unnecessary aggression and antagonism, and the evening into a completely numbing experience for the sport.
I must admit, when I saw several plastic cups of booze soak Lewis half way through his walk-on, thrown at him by the apparently fervent supporters of their fellow Scot Anderson, I laughed. I thought it would be laughed off by Lewis as he dried himself with the towel he was chucked immediately after he got onto the stage - he knew he was in for a tough time with every last person cheering on their beloved 'Flying Scotsman', and the Premier League has become all about a little rowdiness and banter with the players.
But Lewis was not impressed, and he was to become even less jovial as the match got underway.
Booing, chanting and a general ear-piercing din has become the norm at Premier League nights, and the added test of the players who play in it is to deal with the noise and pandemonium within the crowd. The players might not like it, but they pay lip-service to the atmosphere everywhere they go now because that is the animal darts has grown into - and it makes them money. But in Glasgow last week things got dreadfully out of hand.
Anderson seemed cool and deep in concentration as he drifted into a 3-0 lead, his darts greeted with jubilant cheers, Lewis' darts with deafening boos. But as Lewis kept flinching and then pausing at the oche, it became apparent something was untoward - coins were being thrown onto the stage by a minority of brainless ultra-rowdys.
A remarkable silence pervaded the vast SECC arena as Lewis managed to win the fourth leg, and as he continued his spirited fightback, despite being continually targeted by the coin-throwers and having to block out the incredibly vociferous boos each time he stepped up to the oche, he went into the break at 3-3. I hoped after the short interval the crowd might calm down. Unfortunately it did not happen.
The barrage of boos continued and a couple more pieces of small change were lobbed. Anderson had already surrendered a 3-0 advantage and the crowd were clearly beginning to have more of an adverse affect on him than Lewis.
Although increasingly embarrassed at the despicable behaviour of his home crowd, Anderson refused to interact with his 'supporters' until, at 5-3 down, he stopped, turned to the crowd with a menacing scowl and then went to pick up one of the thrown coins that had laid to rest to the left of the board. From the moment he placed the coin in his top pocket and snarled what lip-readers could clearly decipher as 'fucking pricks' towards the crowd, there was an incredible, sudden change in the atmosphere. Finally the Scottish masses realised Anderson, their darting hero they all looked up to, was thoroughly ashamed of them.
The rest of the match was played out in relative calm, the atmosphere having changed dramatically from truly sinister to bizarrely eerie. Anderson was fuming at the treatment his people had dished out to his opponent and the current world champion of the sport. He had the look of a man who was genuinely sick to his stomach, as if he had just walked in on his wife in bed with another man - immediately after his outburst it was pure anger, and it slowly developed into a numbness. Thus he continued to miss his doubles and lost 8-3.
It was undoubtedly the most remarkable darts match for all the wrong reasons I have ever seen.
This week sees another former World Championship final match-up, with Mark Webster facing Simon Whitlock first up - Webster beat Whitlock in the 2008 BDO World Championship final at Frimley Green. Let's hope it is a match that stands out for very different reasons to the ones witnessed in the last Premier League match.
Poor Brighton, having to pick up the pieces from the opprobrium of Glasgow.
The Scottish darts 'fans' did nothing to disabuse the rest of the United Kingdom of the drunken yob stereotype that exists in many a person's mind when the country of Scotland is discussed. In fact, they seemed determined to strengthen that stereotype.
It was supposed to be World Championship runner-up Gary Anderson's glorious homecoming as he competes in his first Premier League campaign. The fact the proud Scot was due to play his world final conqueror Adrian Lewis in Glasgow only added humongous excitement and anticipation to the affair.
Yet, in complete contrast, the excitement and anticipation of the 6,000-strong Scottish crowd transformed itself into mindless and unnecessary aggression and antagonism, and the evening into a completely numbing experience for the sport.
I must admit, when I saw several plastic cups of booze soak Lewis half way through his walk-on, thrown at him by the apparently fervent supporters of their fellow Scot Anderson, I laughed. I thought it would be laughed off by Lewis as he dried himself with the towel he was chucked immediately after he got onto the stage - he knew he was in for a tough time with every last person cheering on their beloved 'Flying Scotsman', and the Premier League has become all about a little rowdiness and banter with the players.
But Lewis was not impressed, and he was to become even less jovial as the match got underway.
Booing, chanting and a general ear-piercing din has become the norm at Premier League nights, and the added test of the players who play in it is to deal with the noise and pandemonium within the crowd. The players might not like it, but they pay lip-service to the atmosphere everywhere they go now because that is the animal darts has grown into - and it makes them money. But in Glasgow last week things got dreadfully out of hand.
Anderson seemed cool and deep in concentration as he drifted into a 3-0 lead, his darts greeted with jubilant cheers, Lewis' darts with deafening boos. But as Lewis kept flinching and then pausing at the oche, it became apparent something was untoward - coins were being thrown onto the stage by a minority of brainless ultra-rowdys.
A remarkable silence pervaded the vast SECC arena as Lewis managed to win the fourth leg, and as he continued his spirited fightback, despite being continually targeted by the coin-throwers and having to block out the incredibly vociferous boos each time he stepped up to the oche, he went into the break at 3-3. I hoped after the short interval the crowd might calm down. Unfortunately it did not happen.
The barrage of boos continued and a couple more pieces of small change were lobbed. Anderson had already surrendered a 3-0 advantage and the crowd were clearly beginning to have more of an adverse affect on him than Lewis.
Although increasingly embarrassed at the despicable behaviour of his home crowd, Anderson refused to interact with his 'supporters' until, at 5-3 down, he stopped, turned to the crowd with a menacing scowl and then went to pick up one of the thrown coins that had laid to rest to the left of the board. From the moment he placed the coin in his top pocket and snarled what lip-readers could clearly decipher as 'fucking pricks' towards the crowd, there was an incredible, sudden change in the atmosphere. Finally the Scottish masses realised Anderson, their darting hero they all looked up to, was thoroughly ashamed of them.
The rest of the match was played out in relative calm, the atmosphere having changed dramatically from truly sinister to bizarrely eerie. Anderson was fuming at the treatment his people had dished out to his opponent and the current world champion of the sport. He had the look of a man who was genuinely sick to his stomach, as if he had just walked in on his wife in bed with another man - immediately after his outburst it was pure anger, and it slowly developed into a numbness. Thus he continued to miss his doubles and lost 8-3.
It was undoubtedly the most remarkable darts match for all the wrong reasons I have ever seen.
This week sees another former World Championship final match-up, with Mark Webster facing Simon Whitlock first up - Webster beat Whitlock in the 2008 BDO World Championship final at Frimley Green. Let's hope it is a match that stands out for very different reasons to the ones witnessed in the last Premier League match.
Poor Brighton, having to pick up the pieces from the opprobrium of Glasgow.
Wednesday 16 March 2011
Football: Champions League - Bayern vs Inter
Only one team in the history of the Champions League had progressed to the next round after losing the 1st leg of a knockout tie at home - until last night, when Leonardo's Inter Milan made it two. Ironically, the only manager to have achieved the feat beforehand was Louis van Gaal with Ajax. Now van Gaal can also say he has been on the receiving end of a remarkable European-night-turnaround.
Despite Inter Milan being the holders after their battling surge to glory last season, Bayern came into the game as rock-solid favourites and looking to avenge their Bernabeu-based final defeat last May - not an indication of Bayern's strength, but of how Inter have become weaker and the fact Bayern took a 1-0 lead plus away goal into the match.
Possibly the greatest asset of the game of football is how quickly things can change. The scarlet-glowing Allianz Arena looked resplendent as ever, the buzz of Weißbier-fuelled anticipation amongst the 66,000 Bayern-mad fans was tangible and then, quick as a flash and suspiciously offside, Samuel Eto'o flattened the mood instantly.
But, typically loyal and boisterous, the Bayern faithful roared their team on to chance after chance at the other end, with, again typically, Arjen Robben and Franck Ribery at the heart of everything dazzling as they searched for goals. Cue mood-swing number two as Mario Gomez, his hair these days making him look like something out of The Munsters, delicately, brilliantly and creatively lobbed Julio Cesar with his back to goal after the Inter goalkeeper had fumbled a Robben shot.
The hullaballoo that follows a Bayern goal at the Allianz Arena is something quite unique. The instantaneous, elated yelling of the fans as the ball hits the net is followed by a small snipet of a strange song over the tannoy and then the bellowed words: 'TOR FÜR DEN FC BAYERN MÜNCHEN' which are a pre-cursor to the minute of the goal and then the number of the player who scored the goal being announced. The game has usually kicked-off again by the time the first name of the scorer is screamed over the tannoy, inviting the fans to roar his surname back, a process that is repeated twice more.
It is a post-goal routine that is now ingrained into the tradition of the club, and the fans absolutely love it. Its main role is to maintain the momentum amongst players and fans, and it certainly worked for the remainder of the first half. Robben and Ribery continued to link up swiftly and deliciously, their initial work resulting in another defensive error to allow Thomas Müller in on goal before he cooly dinked the ball over Cesar. The elation in the stands and the confidence of victory and progression cranked up a notch.
Yet if I learnt anything from last night's match, it is never to write off an Inter Milan team as long as they have Samuel Eto'o, Wesley Sneijder and Esteban Cambiasso on the pitch. Yes, Inter's defensive frailties are apparent and they lack the tempo that was so prevalent during the last campaign, but Cambiasso harrassed and harried the Bayern players tirelessly, an unattractive role within football that is too often overlooked, Sneijder picked out some passes of genuine genius and Eto'o continually threatened and, indeed, set up both goals for Sneijder and Goran Pandev to break Bayern hearts.
Bayern craved revenge so much it came back to haunt them, and it will surely haunt Louis van Gaal for the rest of his life that he failed to provide the greatest of German clubs with a further trophy before he leaves at the end of the season.
Despite Inter Milan being the holders after their battling surge to glory last season, Bayern came into the game as rock-solid favourites and looking to avenge their Bernabeu-based final defeat last May - not an indication of Bayern's strength, but of how Inter have become weaker and the fact Bayern took a 1-0 lead plus away goal into the match.
Possibly the greatest asset of the game of football is how quickly things can change. The scarlet-glowing Allianz Arena looked resplendent as ever, the buzz of Weißbier-fuelled anticipation amongst the 66,000 Bayern-mad fans was tangible and then, quick as a flash and suspiciously offside, Samuel Eto'o flattened the mood instantly.
But, typically loyal and boisterous, the Bayern faithful roared their team on to chance after chance at the other end, with, again typically, Arjen Robben and Franck Ribery at the heart of everything dazzling as they searched for goals. Cue mood-swing number two as Mario Gomez, his hair these days making him look like something out of The Munsters, delicately, brilliantly and creatively lobbed Julio Cesar with his back to goal after the Inter goalkeeper had fumbled a Robben shot.
The hullaballoo that follows a Bayern goal at the Allianz Arena is something quite unique. The instantaneous, elated yelling of the fans as the ball hits the net is followed by a small snipet of a strange song over the tannoy and then the bellowed words: 'TOR FÜR DEN FC BAYERN MÜNCHEN' which are a pre-cursor to the minute of the goal and then the number of the player who scored the goal being announced. The game has usually kicked-off again by the time the first name of the scorer is screamed over the tannoy, inviting the fans to roar his surname back, a process that is repeated twice more.
It is a post-goal routine that is now ingrained into the tradition of the club, and the fans absolutely love it. Its main role is to maintain the momentum amongst players and fans, and it certainly worked for the remainder of the first half. Robben and Ribery continued to link up swiftly and deliciously, their initial work resulting in another defensive error to allow Thomas Müller in on goal before he cooly dinked the ball over Cesar. The elation in the stands and the confidence of victory and progression cranked up a notch.
Yet if I learnt anything from last night's match, it is never to write off an Inter Milan team as long as they have Samuel Eto'o, Wesley Sneijder and Esteban Cambiasso on the pitch. Yes, Inter's defensive frailties are apparent and they lack the tempo that was so prevalent during the last campaign, but Cambiasso harrassed and harried the Bayern players tirelessly, an unattractive role within football that is too often overlooked, Sneijder picked out some passes of genuine genius and Eto'o continually threatened and, indeed, set up both goals for Sneijder and Goran Pandev to break Bayern hearts.
Bayern craved revenge so much it came back to haunt them, and it will surely haunt Louis van Gaal for the rest of his life that he failed to provide the greatest of German clubs with a further trophy before he leaves at the end of the season.
Wednesday 9 March 2011
Cricket: REVEALED: What went on in the Pakistan changing room at Kandy
Tuesday 8 March 2011 - Pallekele Cricket Stadium, Kandy.
Having won their first three games against Kenya, second-favourites Sri Lanka and Canada, hopes amongst the Pakistani fans that their team had enough breathtaking talent, unstoppable ability and was now capable of some much sought-after consistency to win the tournament were beginning to grow.
It is an hour and a half before the start of Pakistan's fourth World Cup group match against New Zealand at Kandy's new stadium of international status, the Pallekele Cricket Stadium. In a stroke of investigative genius, I managed to hide several microphones and mini-cameras in the Pakistan dressing room the night before. I knew it would be the Pakistan dressing room because there was a sign on the door that read 'Parkistarn'. Apparently it is the new spelling of the word to adhere to the new pronounciation these days. Here is what went on before the game against the Kiwis:
Shahid Afridi, captain and newly-appointed demon bowler of the attack, is first through the door after the team's initial warm-up of fielding drills which included letting the ball past you whilst looking as though giving maximum effort to stop the ball. Afridi has already washed his hair twice this morning, but he jumps in the shower with his Head and Shoulders once more. The commercials he does have clearly gone to his head in more ways than one.
As the others filter through to further prepare for the game, Shoaib Akhtar is heard begging Afridi for the use of his shampoo, but the skipper simply replies stubbornly: 'Who won us the last three matches? You can use the shampoo when you do something of worth.' Shoaib, tail between his legs, trudges back to his corner of the changing room, where he asks Umar Gul if his bum looks big in the trousers he wears. Gul laughs.
Across the room Kamran Akmal is delicately and lovingly icing Ross Taylor's birthday cake with the words 'You're welcome', whilst his brother, Umar, shouts over to him: 'You want Utterly Butterly smearing on your gloves, yaar?'
'Well I usually use Flora Pro-active, but both are okay. You choose,' screeches Kamran.
Afridi berates them with a fierce snarl: 'Keep your bloody voices down will you!'
'Why are we doing this anyway?' says the young 19-year-old opening bat Ahmed Shehzad.
'We've won the last three games. We can't have anyone thinking we are a decent side, can we?' says Younus Khan, former captain and experienced inconsistent performer.
Pakistan Cricket Board Chairman Ijaz Butt slowly wanders in, fiddling with his HTC Desire. 'More than a hundred runs, yaar?' he asks no-one in particular. 'I'm just on Paddy Power now. Good luck.'
Abdul Razzaq looks serious and glum. 'So, no yorkers, but plenty of full tosses and length balls at the back end?' he says, seeking confirmation.
'Yes, sorry Razza but in all likelihood your figures are going to take a pounding today. It has to be done. We can't be seen as a quality outfit and become one of the favourites for the World Cup. That would betray Allah,' says Afridi.
As Kamran Akmal starts to rub sun lotion on his face, Mohammad Hafeez perks up. 'That won't make you any less ugly you know,' says Hafeez.
'Shut up Feezy!' replies Akmal. 'At least I won't be the ugliest player on the park today though. Scott Styris is playing!'
Having won their first three games against Kenya, second-favourites Sri Lanka and Canada, hopes amongst the Pakistani fans that their team had enough breathtaking talent, unstoppable ability and was now capable of some much sought-after consistency to win the tournament were beginning to grow.
It is an hour and a half before the start of Pakistan's fourth World Cup group match against New Zealand at Kandy's new stadium of international status, the Pallekele Cricket Stadium. In a stroke of investigative genius, I managed to hide several microphones and mini-cameras in the Pakistan dressing room the night before. I knew it would be the Pakistan dressing room because there was a sign on the door that read 'Parkistarn'. Apparently it is the new spelling of the word to adhere to the new pronounciation these days. Here is what went on before the game against the Kiwis:
Shahid Afridi, captain and newly-appointed demon bowler of the attack, is first through the door after the team's initial warm-up of fielding drills which included letting the ball past you whilst looking as though giving maximum effort to stop the ball. Afridi has already washed his hair twice this morning, but he jumps in the shower with his Head and Shoulders once more. The commercials he does have clearly gone to his head in more ways than one.
As the others filter through to further prepare for the game, Shoaib Akhtar is heard begging Afridi for the use of his shampoo, but the skipper simply replies stubbornly: 'Who won us the last three matches? You can use the shampoo when you do something of worth.' Shoaib, tail between his legs, trudges back to his corner of the changing room, where he asks Umar Gul if his bum looks big in the trousers he wears. Gul laughs.
Across the room Kamran Akmal is delicately and lovingly icing Ross Taylor's birthday cake with the words 'You're welcome', whilst his brother, Umar, shouts over to him: 'You want Utterly Butterly smearing on your gloves, yaar?'
'Well I usually use Flora Pro-active, but both are okay. You choose,' screeches Kamran.
Afridi berates them with a fierce snarl: 'Keep your bloody voices down will you!'
'Why are we doing this anyway?' says the young 19-year-old opening bat Ahmed Shehzad.
'We've won the last three games. We can't have anyone thinking we are a decent side, can we?' says Younus Khan, former captain and experienced inconsistent performer.
Pakistan Cricket Board Chairman Ijaz Butt slowly wanders in, fiddling with his HTC Desire. 'More than a hundred runs, yaar?' he asks no-one in particular. 'I'm just on Paddy Power now. Good luck.'
Abdul Razzaq looks serious and glum. 'So, no yorkers, but plenty of full tosses and length balls at the back end?' he says, seeking confirmation.
'Yes, sorry Razza but in all likelihood your figures are going to take a pounding today. It has to be done. We can't be seen as a quality outfit and become one of the favourites for the World Cup. That would betray Allah,' says Afridi.
As Kamran Akmal starts to rub sun lotion on his face, Mohammad Hafeez perks up. 'That won't make you any less ugly you know,' says Hafeez.
'Shut up Feezy!' replies Akmal. 'At least I won't be the ugliest player on the park today though. Scott Styris is playing!'
Monday 7 March 2011
Cricket: English entertainment does not mask flaws
Astonishing. Incredible. Dumbfounding. Just some of the adjectives that could be used to describe the nature of England's last three World Cup games.
First there was the amazing, topsy-turvy tie with India in Bangalore, followed by a cock-up of South African proportions against the boys from the Emerald Isle at the same ground, and then, yesterday, another astoundingly good ODI encounter against the South Africans at Chennai.
All three games were replete with tension, jaw-dropping moments and pure cricketing entertainment. Even England's first game against the Netherlands was a tad too close for comfort from an England perspective and contained sackloads of entertaining cricket.
Yet despite England's matches providing the highlights of this World Cup so far and the team having gained a pretty respectable points haul of five from eight, the entertainment factor cannot mask the severe deficiencies that infest England's performances.
On the pancake-style tracks of Nagpur and Bangalore, the bowling attack has looked confused and nonplussed as to how to bowl dot balls and create pressure, which in turn will produce wickets. To do that you need to be disciplined and concentrated, but England's bowlers can rarely be said to have exhibited those attributes during the tournament thus far.
Then, once on the bowler-conducive pitch at Chennai, they conspire to lose the game within the first over of the match and demonstrate a complete lack of adaptability and know-how with the bat. After posting a paltry 171 it is a good job the bowlers produced for the first time in the competition. But if bowling on bowler-friendly pitches is the only time they are capable of producing, England do not have a cat in hell's chance of winning the trophy on 2 April.
The most worrying frailty within the England ranks is the lack of quality second spinner. It is vital to have at least two spinners who can take wickets and/or stem the flow of runs in the subcontinent, yet Michael Yardy is not a wicket-taker and top players have found it so easy to milk him for six an over in the middle overs of an innings. This is proven by his economy at the tournament being 6.11. Yardy has only taken 21 wickets in 28 ODIs with an average of 51.19. Without wishing to be disrespectful, I wonder if he goes to bed at night wishing his bowling and batting averages could be switched around? He averages 20.37 with the bat.
James Tredwell, England's third spinner in the squad has not taken a wicket in three ODIs and is unlikely to get another chance any time soon, which leads us to the conclusion that the selectors got the spinning options wrong. And that is a pretty big wrong in the context of this World Cup.
With England nowadays, in this age of professionalism, their selection policy has become streamlined and seemingly quite exclusive. There is no doubt that with the introduction of central contracts and players now being ever more professional and supremely fit, there has come increased success for the England team. Three Ashes wins out of four and a first ICC world trophy is testament to that. However, I cannot help think the selection of Samit Patel in place of Michael Yardy would have been a more positive step at this World Cup.
Patel is a better left-arm spin bowler as well as a better batsman. His inclusion would have strengthened England's batting and wicket-taking possibilities. Patel's flight, guile and spin would have been more valuable than Yardy's non-turning darts. Even on the spin-helpful Chennai track against South Africa I saw Yardy turn just one ball during his nine overs.
The lack of a top spinner to support Graeme Swann is the biggest worry and main reason why I believe England will not win the World Cup despite beating one of the favourites South Africa yesterday. I could also cite England's lack of execution when bowling at the death, Jimmy Anderson's confidence stores being disturbingly fragile, listless fielding performances against India and Ireland or even Andrew Strauss' decision-making as captain as to why England will fail to succeed at the tournament.
Call me a party pooper or a miserable so-and-so, but if England somehow manage to win the World Cup I will be the most astonished I have ever been. Fortunately, if that were to occur, I will also be the most entertained I have ever been.
First there was the amazing, topsy-turvy tie with India in Bangalore, followed by a cock-up of South African proportions against the boys from the Emerald Isle at the same ground, and then, yesterday, another astoundingly good ODI encounter against the South Africans at Chennai.
All three games were replete with tension, jaw-dropping moments and pure cricketing entertainment. Even England's first game against the Netherlands was a tad too close for comfort from an England perspective and contained sackloads of entertaining cricket.
Yet despite England's matches providing the highlights of this World Cup so far and the team having gained a pretty respectable points haul of five from eight, the entertainment factor cannot mask the severe deficiencies that infest England's performances.
On the pancake-style tracks of Nagpur and Bangalore, the bowling attack has looked confused and nonplussed as to how to bowl dot balls and create pressure, which in turn will produce wickets. To do that you need to be disciplined and concentrated, but England's bowlers can rarely be said to have exhibited those attributes during the tournament thus far.
Then, once on the bowler-conducive pitch at Chennai, they conspire to lose the game within the first over of the match and demonstrate a complete lack of adaptability and know-how with the bat. After posting a paltry 171 it is a good job the bowlers produced for the first time in the competition. But if bowling on bowler-friendly pitches is the only time they are capable of producing, England do not have a cat in hell's chance of winning the trophy on 2 April.
The most worrying frailty within the England ranks is the lack of quality second spinner. It is vital to have at least two spinners who can take wickets and/or stem the flow of runs in the subcontinent, yet Michael Yardy is not a wicket-taker and top players have found it so easy to milk him for six an over in the middle overs of an innings. This is proven by his economy at the tournament being 6.11. Yardy has only taken 21 wickets in 28 ODIs with an average of 51.19. Without wishing to be disrespectful, I wonder if he goes to bed at night wishing his bowling and batting averages could be switched around? He averages 20.37 with the bat.
James Tredwell, England's third spinner in the squad has not taken a wicket in three ODIs and is unlikely to get another chance any time soon, which leads us to the conclusion that the selectors got the spinning options wrong. And that is a pretty big wrong in the context of this World Cup.
With England nowadays, in this age of professionalism, their selection policy has become streamlined and seemingly quite exclusive. There is no doubt that with the introduction of central contracts and players now being ever more professional and supremely fit, there has come increased success for the England team. Three Ashes wins out of four and a first ICC world trophy is testament to that. However, I cannot help think the selection of Samit Patel in place of Michael Yardy would have been a more positive step at this World Cup.
Patel is a better left-arm spin bowler as well as a better batsman. His inclusion would have strengthened England's batting and wicket-taking possibilities. Patel's flight, guile and spin would have been more valuable than Yardy's non-turning darts. Even on the spin-helpful Chennai track against South Africa I saw Yardy turn just one ball during his nine overs.
The lack of a top spinner to support Graeme Swann is the biggest worry and main reason why I believe England will not win the World Cup despite beating one of the favourites South Africa yesterday. I could also cite England's lack of execution when bowling at the death, Jimmy Anderson's confidence stores being disturbingly fragile, listless fielding performances against India and Ireland or even Andrew Strauss' decision-making as captain as to why England will fail to succeed at the tournament.
Call me a party pooper or a miserable so-and-so, but if England somehow manage to win the World Cup I will be the most astonished I have ever been. Fortunately, if that were to occur, I will also be the most entertained I have ever been.
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