May 16, 2010
The English Premiership happens to be all the rage in Nigeria, with Nigeria’s murky politics being put in the shade. Chelsea Football Club won the league title as well as the FA Cup, thus bagging the coveted Double. But these achievements cut no dice with me because I know for a fact that teams such as Arsenal and Tottenham Hotspur had done the Double way back in the past without shouting all over the place like excited madmen.
The English Premiership happens to be all the rage in Nigeria, with Nigeria’s murky politics being put in the shade. Chelsea Football Club won the league title as well as the FA Cup, thus bagging the coveted Double. But these achievements cut no dice with me because I know for a fact that teams such as Arsenal and Tottenham Hotspur had done the Double way back in the past without shouting all over the place like excited madmen.
Even as recently as 1999 Manchester United won the Treble, that is, topping the Double up with UEFA Champions League, without dancing naked in the streets. All the Chelsea fans making noise all over the place because the club won the English Premiership and the Cup should stop disturbing my peace when the real deal, the World Cup, is around the corner. The colour of the coveted FIFA World Cup is definitely not blue! Come to think of it, none of the players currently plying their trade in the so-called Stamford Bridge has ever won a World Cup medal. These soccer innocents from Chelsea can only come to the World Cup in South Africa as absolute beginners with “learner” badges on their vests!
It is even more astonishing that the Chelsea blokes are making so much mouth when they won the premier league trophy in ordinary England, a country that managed to win the World Cup as far back as 1966, and only on home soil, with a dubious goal by Geoff Hurst that did not even cross the goal-line. Chelsea, like England, is a non-starter when the World Cup comes into reckoning.
John Terry, the feckless captain of Chelsea, moonlighted briefly as the captain of the English team before his weak underpants badly let him down. Instead of unleashing action on the field of play he was caught in action, pants down, atop the beau of an ex-teammate, Wayne Bridge. Such a weak Chelsea character as John Terry cannot definitely go far in the World Cup where absolute professionalism counts. It is very obvious that John Terry will exit the World Cup very early to concentrate on what he does best: chasing the local babes, preferably with President Zuma!
The other Chelsea wannabe in the World Cup quest happens to be Cote d’Ivoire skipper Didier Drogba who is busy jumping all over the place because he somehow became the highest goal scorer of the season on the last day of the Premiership. Drogba was so desperate to steal the crown from Manchester United’s Wayne Rooney that he nearly stole the penalty-taking duty of Chelsea from Frank Lampard. Thanks to the referee who sent off the last man of hapless Wigan such that Drogba was left absolutely free to score a hat-trick, including, you guessed right, a penalty-kick in an infamous 8-0 romp. Agreed, Drogba also scored the winning goal in the 1-0 Cup Final victory, but that was against Portsmouth, a team that had gone broke and was thus sentenced to relegation!
In the World Cup proper, it needs no telling that Drogba cannot be afforded such English luxuries. In short, the goalpost will be too far from Drogba in the World Cup, like travelling on foot from Stamford Bridge in England to Johannesburg in South Africa. Poor Drogba, he and his Cote d’Ivoire teammates have as coach the perennial underachiever, Sven Goran Erikkson, another skirt-chaser who could not take England anywhere in nearly a decade of aimlessness.
In the World Cup there would be no teams like Wigan Athletic of England that concede eight goals in the blink of an eye. It is so like boastful Chelsea to crow that it created a record of scoring 103 goals in a single season. What a joke! It is akin to playing against hungry kids and claiming scoring records. After all one Otengwo Otenkwu scored all of 200 goals in a single match in a town known as Igwenga! Let Chelsea go and beat that record!
The so-called Chelsea superstars should come to the World Cup to show their mettle. We are all tired of seeing the likes of Frank Lampard scoring all of 20 goals, with a good 18 of those goals coming as a result of deflections! Also, the idea of Liverpool skipper Steven Gerrard giving a tailor-made through-pass to Chelsea’s Didier Drogba to score a goal so that Chelsea can upend Manchester United from eclipsing Liverpool’s record of 18 wins in the top division is a slap on the face of “jogo bonito”, that is, beautiful football. Such crazily crafted own goals in a World Cup proper can earn one sure death as happened to Andres Escobar of Colombia!
For all of us, true and tested aficionados of the beautiful game, we cannot thank God enough that the Premiership is over for good, giving place to the Mecca of football: the FIFA World Cup, happening for the first time in the mother continent of Africa. Now is the time to separate the men from the boys, the professionals from the amateurs, the pretenders from the world champion. The sambas of Brazil will come to play. The gringos of Argentina shall shoot at speed. The amigos of Italy are here to covet the cup. And the Volkswagen of football, Germany that is, may not be fashionable at the best of times, but the team always does the duty. It is a time for mastery, and any fellows celebrating the blue of the Premiership may be left in the end bemoaning the blues.
Even as recently as 1999 Manchester United won the Treble, that is, topping the Double up with UEFA Champions League, without dancing naked in the streets. All the Chelsea fans making noise all over the place because the club won the English Premiership and the Cup should stop disturbing my peace when the real deal, the World Cup, is around the corner. The colour of the coveted FIFA World Cup is definitely not blue! Come to think of it, none of the players currently plying their trade in the so-called Stamford Bridge has ever won a World Cup medal. These soccer innocents from Chelsea can only come to the World Cup in South Africa as absolute beginners with “learner” badges on their vests!
It is even more astonishing that the Chelsea blokes are making so much mouth when they won the premier league trophy in ordinary England, a country that managed to win the World Cup as far back as 1966, and only on home soil, with a dubious goal by Geoff Hurst that did not even cross the goal-line. Chelsea, like England, is a non-starter when the World Cup comes into reckoning.
John Terry, the feckless captain of Chelsea, moonlighted briefly as the captain of the English team before his weak underpants badly let him down. Instead of unleashing action on the field of play he was caught in action, pants down, atop the beau of an ex-teammate, Wayne Bridge. Such a weak Chelsea character as John Terry cannot definitely go far in the World Cup where absolute professionalism counts. It is very obvious that John Terry will exit the World Cup very early to concentrate on what he does best: chasing the local babes, preferably with President Zuma!
The other Chelsea wannabe in the World Cup quest happens to be Cote d’Ivoire skipper Didier Drogba who is busy jumping all over the place because he somehow became the highest goal scorer of the season on the last day of the Premiership. Drogba was so desperate to steal the crown from Manchester United’s Wayne Rooney that he nearly stole the penalty-taking duty of Chelsea from Frank Lampard. Thanks to the referee who sent off the last man of hapless Wigan such that Drogba was left absolutely free to score a hat-trick, including, you guessed right, a penalty-kick in an infamous 8-0 romp. Agreed, Drogba also scored the winning goal in the 1-0 Cup Final victory, but that was against Portsmouth, a team that had gone broke and was thus sentenced to relegation!
In the World Cup proper, it needs no telling that Drogba cannot be afforded such English luxuries. In short, the goalpost will be too far from Drogba in the World Cup, like travelling on foot from Stamford Bridge in England to Johannesburg in South Africa. Poor Drogba, he and his Cote d’Ivoire teammates have as coach the perennial underachiever, Sven Goran Erikkson, another skirt-chaser who could not take England anywhere in nearly a decade of aimlessness.
In the World Cup there would be no teams like Wigan Athletic of England that concede eight goals in the blink of an eye. It is so like boastful Chelsea to crow that it created a record of scoring 103 goals in a single season. What a joke! It is akin to playing against hungry kids and claiming scoring records. After all one Otengwo Otenkwu scored all of 200 goals in a single match in a town known as Igwenga! Let Chelsea go and beat that record!
The so-called Chelsea superstars should come to the World Cup to show their mettle. We are all tired of seeing the likes of Frank Lampard scoring all of 20 goals, with a good 18 of those goals coming as a result of deflections! Also, the idea of Liverpool skipper Steven Gerrard giving a tailor-made through-pass to Chelsea’s Didier Drogba to score a goal so that Chelsea can upend Manchester United from eclipsing Liverpool’s record of 18 wins in the top division is a slap on the face of “jogo bonito”, that is, beautiful football. Such crazily crafted own goals in a World Cup proper can earn one sure death as happened to Andres Escobar of Colombia!
For all of us, true and tested aficionados of the beautiful game, we cannot thank God enough that the Premiership is over for good, giving place to the Mecca of football: the FIFA World Cup, happening for the first time in the mother continent of Africa. Now is the time to separate the men from the boys, the professionals from the amateurs, the pretenders from the world champion. The sambas of Brazil will come to play. The gringos of Argentina shall shoot at speed. The amigos of Italy are here to covet the cup. And the Volkswagen of football, Germany that is, may not be fashionable at the best of times, but the team always does the duty. It is a time for mastery, and any fellows celebrating the blue of the Premiership may be left in the end bemoaning the blues.
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