Constrain/enable

To constrain or to enable? Political theorists throughout history have been unable to decide whether we need government because human nature is ultimately good (and the state helps make us better) or bad (and the state keeps us in line). When football reflects politics however, things are much more black and white: fans are a malevolent bunch.

This is why we all need Jose Mourinho. He appeals to the darker side of our nature, inherent to some extent in every football fan. His sides strangle, frustrate and goad like no other at the highest level, offering something we crave but rarely openly acknowledge: ugly winning football as a wind-up. Leveling the playing field by pulling others down rather than elevating ourselves up.

We all love a wind-up, when those who are beginning to take themselves a bit too seriously get knocked down a peg or two, and rant and rave about just how unfair everything is. Toys out the pram. It’s a brilliant spectacle and Mourinho delivers every time.

A Jose victory or a Jose trophy inevitably feels like (or is taken by bested rivals as) an injustice. Somewhere along the line, when the officials weren’t looking he has stuck the knife in and influenced this or fiddled with that. A bastard victory, where football has cheated on its noble principles, seduced by some scummy creature of the night. In all the 90 minutes of the 36 game season, 5 seconds of Jose made the difference.

***

Anfield, Sunday April 27, 2014. Which genuinely neutral observer doesn’t want Gerrard to win a Premier League titles as reward for the loyalty he’s shown his boyhood club? What better way for him to do it than as the reborn lynchpin of a young, attacking side, surrounded by exciting England players that he captains for club and country? And who better to do it against than the scrooge of world football?  

It had to be Mourinho. It wouldn’t be nearly so satisfying otherwise. Who wouldn’t want to be a fly on the wall in a Red house or pub when those extended shots of Jose in his gilet pumping his arms and beating his chest came on? Sunday’s match was seen as good vs. evil, and evil won. This wound the Liverpool fans up much more than if they had been beaten by City or Bayern or Real.

Social media and digital television whip the now bi-weekly games into a hurricane of hyperbole, and woe betides any in the way: “DEATH OF FOOTBALL”; “HOMOCIDE BY PARKED BUS”; “MEDIEVAL METHODS TO BE REVIVED FOR REF TORTURE POST PEN-GATE”. Atop these biblical storms are the deities, those committed to a football so pure that viewing their performances through an unfiltered (i.e. critical) lens is blasphemy: the Guardiolas, Klopps, Rodgerses. That they sit there is not an issue – the football they play is breath-taking. The problem is those elevating them.

It’s hard to escape the feeling that players are increasingly less bothered, as the game becomes more international and the rise of the career footballer, only in it to pay the bills, increases. Competition has always been just as ferocious, if not more so, off the pitch than on it, and the internet has blown this competition into a new dimension.

An example. A while back on a midweek Guardian article I can no longer recall, below the belt of adverts that separates the asinine from the ridiculous, a prominent contributor was justifying his absence. His team had lost at the weekend and he was being ‘called out’ for not being there to answer the erudite post-match analysis of co-commenters (“bbhaaaaa…your team are shit!”). Sorry he said; I had to travel from Durban to Johannesburg for my uncle’s funeral. 

That this person felt obliged to share intimate personal details with strangers he’s never met demonstrates a prominent strain of 21^st Century football fan culture. Although someone mercifully replied saying that no one should ever have to justify not commenting on a Guardian article period, let alone in such circumstances, the obligation the bereaved felt to engage with rival fans sums up the environment in which Mourinho’s work is most appreciated.

The majority of us can follow football without this level of pettiness, but just because our more vitriolic thoughts are not always shared, doesn’t mean they don’t form. In fact, if Twitter and comment feeds weren’t such oppressively point-scoring arenas, where the slightest deviance is pounced on and ridiculed for likes/retweets/recommends, the debates might be broader and the arguments less petty. But they are. So enter Mourinho.

***

When those at Anfield were really starting to believe, Jose turned up. When Wenger’s demise seemed to signal United’s dominance for time immemorial, he was there. When Barca’s sugar-sweet short passing was becoming sickly and their much-misquoted Mes que un club (here meaning holier than thou) mantra force-fed to all social media by thousands of tiny, nippy 14 year old ants; Jose was drafted in.

If Guardiola’s Barca were a U-rated family classic you could show 5 year-olds for generations, Mourinho’s Real were pure Tarantino: violent and fast-paced with a great soundtrack, made by a man who is as much a genius as he is a prick.

How long before you felt safe admitting it did you think that Barca under Guardiola were a wee bit boring, yearning for the odd ping from 30 yards, begging them to sacrificing 71 per cent total possession for 69 and take a risk? Few fans would turn down the whimsical notion of the elegance, technical brilliance and game-dominance (not to mention trophy haul) Guardiola brings being transposed onto the team they support. But that’s not to say that watching Mourinho smash it all up wasn’t incredibly cathartic.

The gripe wasn’t with the players per se, but with those who appropriated their performances and used them against other teams, or more specifically, other fans; either explicitly (you lot are anti-football compared to us) or implicitly (we do things the right way).

It’s very difficult to wind millions of people up simultaneously just by winning a game of football: there will always be zealots but the majority will usually be fairly happy to shrug and move on. Which is why to really get to those at the top, every now and then you need more than a defeat. You’ve been hurt and you want them to hurt too. You need an injustice.

Nothing gets the juices going like feeling you’ve been robbed in sport, and displaying the scars for years reminds fans who told us all their teams were untouchable that they are not. You don’t want your club to be associated with negativity, cynicism and intimidation, but watching Mourinho’s dish it out on others satisfies the darker side of our nature. He emancipates through constraint like no other.

***

Acknowledging we need Mourinho doesn’t justify all his behaviour or give him license to call the tune unchallenged. Irritating? Yes. Hypocritical? Yes. Out of line? Undoubtedly. But aren’t we all sometimes? It comes with the territory of being a fan, and more than that it’s part of the fun: being able to explore some of the darker sides of human nature in an environment where bad behaviour is considered part of the territory. Following football is a release value as well as a pressure cooker, and Mourhino is the prick that reduces puffed-up pretention and helps us all blow off some steam.

SidLowe writes brilliantly about how Barca and Madrid fans identify more withhating their rival than backing their team. There are plenty of fancy names for this in social sciences, but it’s as raw in football fans as it is anywhere else and it’s known as support. A primal urge that may be hereditary, or may have been consciously adopted a matter of months ago, and only appears for a few minutes every year. Either way, it exists and it stings strong.

Mourinho scratches the itch perfectly, etching reality into those who feel untouchable. In a sea of blunt objects he’s the edge everyone can feel but no one can handle. By scratching he actually makes it worse for us, prolonging a healing process that might tone down the frequently ridiculous rhetoric, see us all become friends, or at least help us respect each other, one day. But damn it feels good at the time.

Mourinho provides a quiet satisfaction, enjoyed solitarily with just your imagination – becoming a fly in front-rooms and bars and bedrooms across the world. He affects victims in such a way that you don’t need to ask whether a nerve has been touched. They know they’ve been Jose’d. When you let them know they’re bothering you, they’ve won.

It’s not just about dishing it out though. There is no real way of following football and escaping Mourinho, of not getting sucked in, and when it’s your turn you have to take it, try and see the funny side and remember how much you enjoyed being the observer rather than the target. A quest to win every trophy he can means Jose’ll probably be coming to a league near you soon, if he hasn’t already. Don’t thinkyou’ll be the one who changes him.

Not that there is any real reason he should change. Football is much more than just a game, but that’s down to us, the fans, not Jose Mourinho. He gets paid to do what he loves and is hugely successful. His football can be exciting, dynamic, innovative and most of all entertaining. How many people in the world have watched a Jose team on TV at some point? How many will tune in again? Imagine if he manages at a World Cup. What better gauge for entertainment is there than repeat custom from millions worldwide?

***

History has shown there will always be artists. No need to worry that we won’t be spell-bound in future by a team playing in a way that no one for a time can fathom, let alone handle. But history has also shown that art becomes stale. Better to go up in flames than fade away. Mourinho’s got plenty of petrol left in the tank, and comes with all the sparks required.

That’s ultimately good for football. The unerring accuracy Mourinho displays when hecomes at the king, combined with his inability or unwillingness to hold the job himself keeps things at the top fresh. Fans need him to put others in their place, and remind us of our own mortality. To constrain or enable? Jose does both. 

Sticky Toffees Run-in

How can Everton be doubted? They sit fifth in the table, have one of the most highly-rated young managers in the country, and a squad rife with quality: two of their players featured in the latest England squad, and they are riding the wave of Europe’s fastest-rising nation Belgium, through Kevin Mirallas and the one and only Marouane Fellaini. Part of the Premier League’s furniture, they have a well-respected, if slightly skint, chairman; an established and equally well-respected fan-base; and a youth system that continues to produce players of the highest caliber  Clubs spend a fortune trying, and failing, to achieve these things.

And yet coming into one of the first of several seasonal doubleheaders – two rounds of Premiership fixtures in one week – I feel that we’re reaching a crucial time in not only Everton’s season, but in their mid- to long-term identity. The next four fixtures are at home to Arsenal and Tottenham, and away at City and Stoke. These results could define an era at Goodison.

This is a club with European ambitions, and a number of key players have been making noises for some time now about their need for Champions’ League football. Few (South Stanley Park excluded) would deny that much of the squad possess talent deserving of the biggest stage in club football. Every year that brings Fergie closer to retirement, whilst David Moyes’s stock continues to rises, sees more and more people put two and two together. And whilst Toon fans will tell you that their Champions’ League courtship and subsequent fifth place finish last season (two above Everton) reflects their heritage rather than their recent promotion; and Spurs will point to the squad at 'Arry's disposal (and the money Levy's spent) – Toffees’ fans must be asking when their turn will come.

As I’ve said before, Everton hold a special place in many a football’s heart due to a perception that they are an honestly-run club that plays decent football and is very rarely in the headlines for the wrong reasons. Much has been made of their start this season, with 2013 being widely tipped as the year that David Moyes finally gets the conclusive recognition that many feel his efforts over the last decade deserve: a top-four finish, and barring divine Tinie-vention or an Iberian implosion, Champions' League group-stage football. But it’s not the first time that we’ve heard this. Or the first time they’ve come close. It wouldn’t even technically be their first time in the competition. And while Moyes, much like another Scot down the road, tends to get his teams playing towards the back-end of the season, there comes a point when rather than presenting a tricky hurdle for those above them, Everton need to spend Hogmanay as the hurdle, challenging those below to try and vault them.

Let’s get it clear though: David Moyes is an immense manager. What he has done for Everton, for me (an outsider) is worthy of mention alongside Thomas H. McIntosh, Harry Catterick and Howard Kendall. If he starts fearing for his job we might as well all go home. Consider the changes that the Premier League has undergone since 2001 when he took over: not many managers could have survived the period full-stop, let alone turn a relegation-threatened club into a regular top-eight finisher.

Credit also has to go to the board and the Chairman for keeping the faith. After finishing 15^th in 2002, a highly-respectable 7^th place next year was followed by another relegation battle where they finished 17^th with 39 points (three clubs have been relegated in the Premier League era with 40+). Wayne Rooney dicked up the Euros and departed, and in today’s climate nobody would have blinked as phrases such as “fantastic servant of the club” and “thank David for the stability that he has brought” were followed by references to “long-term visions” and “new sets of ideas”.

When they could have twisted they stuck; the following season, 2005, they qualified for the Champions’ League. It was supposed to be the start of regular involvement in the competition.

Fast-forward to today. When they line-up against Arsenal, they’ll be playing a team that specialises in what they want: regular Champions’ League football. Although the Gunners, like Everton have struggled to keep their top players from leaving – with Manchester the top destination – the similarities pretty much stop there (and any camaraderie based on this shared experience was eradicated when the Gunners pinched Arteta on deadline day). Whereas Wenger justifies the cabinet cobwebs by pointing at a shiny new stadium regularly frequented by Europe’s premier teams, Everton are skint, Goodison Park is in fairly desperate need of renovation, and the only European football they get is the Europa League, not something top of Moyes's priority list. I wonder how many Evertonians would swap a few league places for the cup Liverpool won last season?

If it would be somewhat spineless to say that Arsenal are a shiti-crapa Barcelona, lumping Everton as a long-ball team might appear somewhat crude; peel away the nuances however, and there is truth behind both observations (or accusations). Arsenal’s newly-found ability to keep clear sheets – five in the league, one behind the league’s tightest defence (and Arsene’s bestest buddies), Stoke – coincides with the employment of Steve Bould and the improvement of Per Mertesacker. Not exactly your Tapas-off-Las-Ramblas geezers (it’s alright Pique son, your chiselled jaw and baby blues willsee you through).

Fellaini’s centrality to the team meanwhile is patently obvious, as is the Warner’s Bros.-esque hole evident when he doesn’t play (usually due to a suspension as raising his arms above his waist inevitably results in a high elbow). Everton play some wonderful football on song – with Baines and Pienaar on the left, an array of technically-gifted central midfielders, and the clinical Croat providing the finisher they haven’t really had since big Dunc. But Felllaini is the platform upon which they build this: they will hit him early a lot of the time rather than play through the back. Given Phil Neville’s mobility at the base of midfield, this seems sensible.

Not that there is anything at all wrong with playing the long ball.  Stoke and West Ham play some really nice stuff, with their game last Monday the perfect case in point. David Gould said before the match that nobody was complaining when Bobby Moore ‘lumped’ one for Geoff Hurst to run on to. Watch England today and see which player hits the most long passes.  Ask pundits why Torres was successful at Liverpool. Then talk to me about who plays long ball, the context in which it can be used as negative label and the eleven English heroes. 

Everton haven’t beaten Arsenal in ten league meetings (with eight of those being defeats), an odd fact if you look at how the former play, and the latter’s susceptibility to aerial threats. The Toffee’s defence is strong and aerial, but not the most mobile and Santi Cazorla can unlock any team on his day. I feel however, that Giroud is the kind of workhorse target man that Jagielka and Distin will enjoy playing against, as opposed to the intelligence and technical ability of a Robin Van Persie. If the Arsenal who played Tottenham start tonight then Everton are in trouble, but if those who played Villa rock up at Goodison you have to fancy Everton, even given the form that they’re in. These stats are fickle little things though, and ten games without a win is a long time against recent Arsenal sides.

The weekend then. Everton’s record against City is immense: they’ve won eight of their last ten league meetings home and away and were the last team to win at the Etihad in league. Their height advantage will worry Mancini given City’s set-piece defending this year, as will their mobility out wide, with Pienaar and Baines, Mirallas and Coleman likely to cause problems against a potential back-three terrorised by Ajax’s fluidity. But what will be really interesting, and test theories about Moyes's long-ball propensities, is how Everton work the ball in open-play.

Between Kompany, Nastasic, Yaya and possibly Garcia, Fellaini will have real competition in air (assuming also that Mancini doesn’t show either predictability or sentiment, not things that he’s famed for, and doesn’t play Lescott, who’s highly-handy aerially [forehead joke optional]). If they can’t get the ball up to him quickly, and instead have to play out of the back, will the technical abilities that are used to defy the long-ball tag shine through; or will the switch of style, coupled with the City strikers’ willingness to press the ball high, prove too much to adapt to for a team heavily invested in a certain system and a certain player?

These two initial tests should provide strong indications of how Spurs at home and Stoke away will go: AVB’s side have pace and guile going forward but a highly suspect at the back; whereas anyone going to the Britannia hoping play long ball is probably still suffering from a concussion sustained there last season. How the former play usually depends on one man, Gareth Bale (much like Arsenal and Cazorla). The pace that Everton have at fullback, as well as the cover Neville provides should Bale drift in, give them as good a chance as any of stopping him. If he’s on his game, it’s nigh-on impossible. Arteta is also a big player and will be keen to impress, so it will be interesting to see who in midfield presses him. Could even be Fellaini. Talk about chalk and cheese.

Stoke on the other hand are as far from a one man team as you can be: their graft means that the entire opposition needs to work non-stop for ninety five minutes, mentally as much as physically to battle their set-pieces, to come away with anything. Newcastle winning their last season is a perfect example of how to approach the game. Everton look to be built like a side who can cope with Stoke, but in mid-December off the back of their last three games, Moyes may have to really earn his motivational corn.

The fact that Arsenal and Spurs come to Goodison should make Everton favourites. Nobody goes to the Etihad odds-on, and an increasingly similar pattern is emerging in the Potteries. Five or six points from these games should surely do though. There won’t be many runs as tricky, Everton usually start performing in the New Year, and it’s pre-January so the unthinkable (but not by any means impossible) thought of the afro being permanently shorn is not a factor.

Everton are not playing well though; and that is. They’ve won one in seven: at home to a far from prolific Sunderland side who might count themselves a little unlucky not have taken something from the game. Everton’s last clean sheet was in September. And they’ve only played two of the teams who finished above them last season, both at home. They beat United and admittedly played us off the park. But we were without a match-fit RVP, and Fellaini’s position further up the pitch this season saw him up against Michael Carrick – I wonder if the game was played tonight, bearing in mind the injuries that we had at the time, whether Fergie would ask Vidic to pick-up Fellaini and put Carrick up against Jelavic. They also drew against Newcastle, a shadow of their pre-summer selves and struggling to cope with injuries and Europa League demands.

In the New Year, Everton have to go to Old Trafford, the Emirates, Anfield and White Hart Lane, before finishing the season at Stamford Bridge. Not an ideal 2013, or final day, for anyone (the Rafa factor, assuming that he’s still there, should make things in May even tastier).

Of course, it’s feasible that all of these opposition could be distracted by European commitments when Everton play them, and Chelsea’s recent dominance of the FA Cup mitigates their unfavourable odds in this regard. Avoiding the strains the Europa League places on smaller squads mean that Moyes won’t have any need for rotation or Thursday/Sunday fun this season (although having been knocked out of the League Cup, he may hope to disrupt more than Chelsea’s league position in May).

These games against the teams Everon hope to displace are not their only games of course; but one win from matches against Norwich, Reading, Sunderland, Fulham, Liverpool, QPR and Wigan is not top four form, and doesn’t suggest an ability to clinically see-off less-fancied teams. Going into their next four games – where a point in any is far from assured – could bring the total without a win up to eleven: nearly a third of the season. More importantly, if they go into January in a slump, what would the implications be for the squad? Fellaini? Baines? Jagielka?

David Moyes might look at these fixtures and say: we’ve got a pretty decent record against the top teams, are a match for anyone on our day, and have often thrived playing against teams who keep the ball – it allows Everton to play to their strengths of keeping it tight at the back, use Fellaini as both the out-ball and the platform, and exploiting the flanks through crisp, incisive moves. Could it be that the pressure of everyone saying that European football was coming to Goodison caused the current slump? And with expectations lowered somewhat, can the team perform as they are used to going into the New Year – as scrappy underdogs? They are still in fifth, four points off fourth and keeping the two North London clubs out of their habitual European berths.

The next four games are as much a test of the players as the manager, and this is what makes them so crucial to the club’s long-term future. This is not so much about mathematics as morale. Defeat to Arsenal and Tottenham would put both Everton below both in the table. These are the more winnable home games. City away is not a fixture that any manager can realistically plan on taking even a point away from, which makes Stoke away a crucial game if anything should go array at Goodison. And any punters who fancy a flutter against Tony Pulis’s side at the Britannia in mid-December can get in touch and I’ll send you my bank details.

(Slightly beyond the parameters of this article, but worth mentioning nevertheless, is the fact that a week after Stoke, Everton play West Ham away, before hosting Chelsea in their last game of 2012. Three days later they go to St. James’s. Everton really are going to have to play well over the holidays.)

It’s been a fair few seasons now that Everton have been knocking on the door. Very few doubt that the personnel, both on the pitch and in the dug-out, are as ready for a crack at the Champion’s League group stages as any new participant can be (assuming of course that Moyes can make amends for what is surely is biggest regret, the defeat to Villareal). What the pre-Christmas rush might show is whether players and manager will do it under the same banner.

Thursday January 3^rd. Everton will have just come back from Tyneside, and the inbox will undoubtedly be four-figures full will eight-figure offerings for Fellaini. You get the feeling that if it was £30m+ then they’ll take the cash; they’d be daft not to. But savvy agents and scouts will know that if a player wants to leave, his price gets halved. If Everton have beaten or taken points of the top teams and finish 2012 in the top four and in a bit form, then their top players will surely stick around. You’d like to think that they have some understanding of the debt they owe to Moyes and Kenwright et al. They could conceivably even be happy at Everton, with settled families and all that.

If the Toffees are mid-table however and again haven’t won in months, it’d be a miracle if everyone stayed. With dissent in the ranks, prices will plummet and few clubs can afford to lose players for less than market value more than Everton. The club has lost big players before: Rooney, Lescott, Arteta etc; the question will be whether David Moyes has the patience to rebuild Everton again. How much more can Everton improve without funds? Where are these funds going to come from if not the Champions’ League? And is there going to be a better chance of achieving this in the future?

Moyes will have looked around him and seen countless situations where managers have inherited the work of others and reaped the rewards for themselves (and their bank managers). You have to wonder what the effect of West Brom – a yo-yo club a few years ago, who have a similar system-based approach to formation and recruitment as Everton – finishing highly this season would have on him. If a club not long out of the Championship can achieve in a few years what he hasn’t in more than a decade, how far will, and how far can, Everton take him? Swansea have had a succession of managers who have inherited, improved and moved on; Norwich have systems in place to ensure progress in being made, making Chris Hughton’s job seem secure, even when results were going against him. Bill Kenwright is clearly a lovely person, but there are other chairmen (and women) who will back their manager, and most have more funds.

This is overlooking the interest that bigger clubs would undoubted show in Moyes. Although as a United fan I think that succeeding Fergie is perhaps a little beyond his current CV, plenty with means, pedigree and ambition would have him. There are top jobs in Europe where his considered approach, fiscal responsibility and man-management skills would see him walk into a Champions’ League-qualified team. He has that rare knack of being able to replace seemingly irreplaceable players – never standing in the way when his stars want to move on, but making sure that he gets top dollar for them and replacements in sooner rather than later. Its en vogue these days to really push long-term vision – with high-profile directors of this and special advisers of that popping up everywhere – and for every Mark Hughes who sets it up, there’s a Harry Rednapp waiting to tweak a few thinks and watch as the results roll in.

This is why I think that this year, more than any of the previous ones, is a crucial one for Everton and David Moyes. And the next four games are absolutely central to how May will pan out. Everton’s squad, individually and as a whole is capable of mixing it with Europe’s elite. It’s peppered with internationals of experience, who’ve played in the biggest and most ferocious games, from Heitinga’s World Cup final to Jelavic and Naysmith’s Old Firm matches. The average age suggests there is more to come from many (although maybe not from you Philip, legend that you are).

David Moyes has also given every indication that he could manage alongside Europe’s elite: his compact, patient style of play looks suited to the tighter Champions’ League contests, and he looks unflustered by the big events (the cup finals that he’s reached for example). Questions will be asked about how well he can manage the inter-related factors of funds, expectations and a bigger squad; but because these are so inextricable, it seems very difficult to speculate from my position as an amateur observer. Of the three, expectations are probably what he has most experience of, and the consistency with which they finish top eight seems to demonstrate a level-headed approach. He’s not begged the Chairman for money he doesn’t have, or made promises that he can’t keep. Until the other two are added, it’s hard to know for sure. And the million-dollar question is: will provide any more answers at Everton?

Nobody likes to see a project go unfinished, least of all I suspect, David Moyes. But having risen so high, does there come a point when it is difficult to accept that you are levelling out, or even beginning to sink? For me, this squad is the zenith of Moyes’ Everton. If he can keep it together until May they’ve got the quality to really challenge for Champions’ League football, and give a good account of themselves in the competition. January is a massively disruptive time for Everton though, and people with a lot more expertise than yours truly have noted some of the points inexpertly jumbled around above. A decade’s work may ultimately come down to keeping their players (Fellaini  in particular) convinced that May not January is the time to seek European football, and showing them that what they’re looking for is right in front of them.

From the twelve points pre-Christmas[1] will Moyesy promise me; European football or mid-table mediocrity?

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[1] Pointing out that Everton actually have five games before Christmas and therefore could get 15 points will not be taken in the spirit of Christmas (or journalistic license).

What's Your Fantasy?

Fantasy is a dirty word. Aside from the obvious sordid options that line phone boxes and music ‘borrowing’ sites, there is a general feeling that people who seek escapism are, at best out of touch with reality, and at worst a subterranean social menace. Football, being the ballet of the working classes, has escape this vitriol somewhat, but there are ways of following it that don’t involve keeping it real by downing ten pints and abusing the family networks of strangers. Nowhere is there more smut than on the internet, and on no other platform is detachment from reality viewed as skeptically  Fantasy football is big business, though not everyone seems to understand why. I want to try and explain.

Fantasy sports, as hard as it is to admit, are a positive recreational sporting import from America. They started out in the bastion of liberal progressiveness that is the golf club before being developed by the universally-loved sports press. (Who would have thought that the bastard-child of these two founding fathers wouldn't be the prom king or queen?) Pre-generation X, fantasy sports’ perceived danger to society can perhaps be understood, as players had to meet in person, with the implications (as documented by Paul Rudd in Knocked Up) being that participants had to sack-off domesticity and find weekly excuses to “go out”, “be back late”, and “don’t wait up”.

The internet however, changed everything. Not only could stats be electronically stored and immediately accessed; participants – in the interests of challenging social stigma and not alienating prospective readers, the term ‘player’ will not be used – could get involved in their own time. When King Rupert Midas made English football TV’s C-3P0 it extended the sport way beyond working-class territorial identity, and (Yank) exports to broaden spectator involvement and diversify business interests inevitably followed. Domestic fantasy football is currently offered ‘officially’ by the Premier League, but most national newspapers run games, Sky is the official unofficial platform, Phones4U offers lower-league viewers an outlet and there are dedicated servers for every World Cup, European Championship and Champions’ League season. It is big business.

The basic appeal of the football (association, not hand-egg) format is that it is easy to understand and use, but (supposedly) rewards knowledge and investment exponentially. (I’m sure the hand-egg version would be easy to access too, if only the sport’s rules were). Each version differs slightly, but general rules of thumb are:

1) You pick a team. This should adhere to a recognized  balanced formation, so can’t have 11 strikers. In some formats you pick a squad and choose substitutes; otherwise you just have to hope that your players play. This team is interchangeable throughout the competition, and selection is where the thrill lies. An arbitrary budget is developed by each server, where players’ values are determined by their form, reputation and point-returns in previous seasons. This budget bears little or no resemblance to real life (although even in the world of fantasy Stewart Downing does not represent good value in any way, shape or form).

2) Your team members are allocated points based on real football matches, according to: time played, goals scored or assisted, clean sheets, saves your keeper make (with more for penalties) and other general (quantifiable) contributions to the game (passes, tackles etc.). Points are also deducted, for cardings, goals conceded, penalties missed and own goals scored etc. Participants do not influence real matches (or if they do they should be more ambitious in profiting from it), hence the importance of, and skill in, team selection.

3) These points are totted up and hierarchies (leagues or cup competitions) develop. Participants usually mix open leagues (i.e. against all other players on the network) against private or filtered leagues (based on nationality, team supported etc.). Official prizes are usually offered and some private leagues are set-up with financial incentives. Otherwise success is about pride.

That is essentially it.

So what’s the craic? Why bother playing it, and what’s wrong with people doing so?

Well, based on the extensive surveys I conducted, back-up of course by rigorous methodological justification and all that, people basically play for the craic. Lots of people like football and being able to talk about it from a specific perspective adds a degree of exclusivity to what is a pretty big club. It spares the often narcissistic discussions about who is a ‘proper’ fan, because you don’t need to lie about how many games you go to each season, when you got your first kit, or how your family tree justifies certain allegiances. It is competition that brings people together. Empathy is immediate: anyone who’s playing/ed can wryly comment “made him captain this week” or groan “swapped [prolific goal-scorer] x out for [Tony Jaa wannabe] y” and it doesn't matter what team you support; you’re alrate.

This is football though, and for every Zola there’s a Zidane. I like to win, and when it comes to a sport where everyone was thiiiiiis close to making it (in real life), compensating for the cruelness of fate by quantifiably demonstrating better knowledge than your mates feels good. Anyone can pick 11 or 15 players, but balancing the books whilst keeping ahead of other players can call for serious weekly (or even daily) time investments. You gotta look at fixtures and formations, who’s got history against a certain club and who might be rested for that mid-week tie in a different competition, who have your rivals got and who might be the key differential…

Good players get snapped up quickly, and if everyone’s team is the same then there’s no room for competitive mobility. Football players are essentially stock and to do well in the markets you have to take risks on potential risers: how long do you hold-on to a rising balloon and all that. (Just me with that metaphor? Moving on…) Taking fantasy football seriously is free betting, cash leagues notwithstanding, where time invested can return social prestige. Flashy part-timers will fill their team with poomp alongside their Hazards and Van Persies, but these teams can (in theory) be trumped by low-key squad- players, chosen after meticulous research based on their dead-ball responsibilities or clean sheet potential. And let me tell you, it feels good to beat weekend rock stars who think that (metaphorical) cream suits and Armani shades are more important than unglamorous graft on every weeknight. (It doesn't feel so good if you spend ages picking a team that doesn't perform and are overtaken by a team clearly untouched for weeks but with a decent captain’s selection. The hardest thing sometimes is recognizing when to leave things as they are. These are the facts, isn't that right Rafa?)

This attitude is undoubtedly a reason why escapism through fantasy football has, or could develop, a stigma: when people take it too seriously and deride others for a lack of skills or investment it’s going to become marginalized and participants will be viewed as socially-inept outcasts. A guy that I used to work with refused to succumb to mine and my manager’s pressures to get involved, saying that he didn't want to prop up our egos by propping up our table, or be ripped for incompetence in something he doesn't give a shit about. Fair enough.

But ultimately playing fantasy football is not going have any lasting effects on someone’s personality, and despite the name ‘fantasy’, is in no way pernicious. It’s not going to make an Islamophobe open-minded because Demba Ba gets loads of points and thanks Allah when he scores, just like a sensitive kid isn't going to develop pathological symptoms by playing FPSs. Escapism and the ways in which people pursue it can tell you a lot about someone - including their flaws (i.e. my own competitiveness and borderline OCD) - but these flaws are not caused by the choice of escape-route. If somebody takes inordinate pleasure in demonstrating their fantasy football prowess, ask them how other performance-related parts of their lives are going. (Braw, thanks for asking.)

Moving on from the George Smiley shit, playing fantasy football simply makes watching real games more interesting. As non-fans across the world will tell you “football is always [expletive-optional] on” and having a vested interest in teams other than your own and their rivals increases this. Fantasy leagues give meaning to Wigan vs. Norwich on a Tuesday in February, and while it won’t improve the quality on the pitch, it gives viewers something to get excited about if Grant Holt or Shaun Maloney bagging gives you those extra points needed to move above your nemesis. It also means that non-invested football fans can cheer and groan without permanent alignment, and therefore more people watch the game and the fan community grows.

Of course, the downside of this is that further momentum is added to the corporatisation and relentless advertising machine that has changed football forever in recent years. There’s a (perhaps naïve) hope however, that the more people watch it, the more accountability will be called for. Already BT are challenging Sky’s monopoly, and despite the former’s diabolical customer service (cutting my subscription on the day of Champions’ League Final for example, and forcing me to spend the evening with staunch kids’ TV favourites Adrian Chiles and Gareth Southgate) I have seen better value for money in the last few years since I switched to them.

Whether the distance fantasy football puts between you and the team you support is entirely positive however, is up for debate. In my first season three years ago, I had Drogba (over Rooney) as my main man upfront. He was ‘doubtful’ for the opening game but as a rookie I didn't see any reason not to captain him. When I found out that he’d scored a hat-trick I remember celebrating, before glancing guilty around and coughing it off. It just doesn't feel right to cheer a rival’s success; and this was pre-Mansour, when Chelsea were a ruthless juggernaut and the Drog was their Trojan candiru (you’d think he was harmlessly flapping around before he hit you hard where it hurt the most). Like betting when your team is playing, it’s a delicate balancing act: hedging your bets and ensuring that if your side wins, your fantasy team doesn't benefit can numb the victory somewhat; but loyalty’s an inadequate anesthetic if you want to forget about your side losing in real life, and you’re faced with the double whammy of a poor points haul yourself and a bumper harvest for your rivals.

Some of you won’t understand how anyone can get upset about football full-stop, whilst others won’t understand why Chelsea or City not performing is something that I get mardy about (as long as United win what else matters?). Ultimately both views are sound, but if you invest time in anything, perceived failure and success can influence your mood, irrespective of how irrelevant they appear to be. People get stressed about gardening, crockery getting broken and scripted fictional characters’ love lives. If you don’t understand why someone has an emotional attachment to something, or why a certain thing in particular sets them off, empathize.  I am aware that my fantasy team’s success is ultimately irrelevant but if I’m not annoyed when they fail, how can I be happy when the succeed? Vive et vivas ‘n that.

Fantasy football, much like conventional sports betting, can open your eyes to new aspects of players’ performance. No one can understand quite how ridiculous Theo Walcott’s demand to play centre forward is unless they've had money on him to score, or put him in their fantasy team and watched as he meticulously refuses to take up any passably dangerous positions in the box, preferring instead to hover in the peripheries failing to deliver (a bit like the FIFA/UEFA stance on racism). Dembélé’s evolution (when fit) from an attacking midfielder to a deep-lying player maker can be traced by scouts wondering if he represents good value in the Spurs midfield; Fellaini filling the Timmiii role has not exactly been subtle (nothing about Marouane is really) but fantasy football fans traced it happening since week one against United, and may also have noted how Anichibe has been played there in the Belgium’s absence. It is possible to juxtapose teams who play a system into which players are expected to fit (Everton and West Brom), with those who mix and match according to personnel (United’s midfield or City’s defense for example).

Clearly you don’t need to play fantasy football to notice these things: despite certain public perceptions, fans are incredibly attuned to such tactical nuances and pundits are supposed to make a living from filling in those less enlightened. It’s always nice to work things out for yourself though, and as far as pundits go, unless your name is Gary Neville you’re probably talking shite (especially you melted Cogsworth[1]). There’s clearly a difference between a good fantasy player and a good real-life one: Jon Walters hauled in hella points last year whilst with Scottie Parker you were lucky to break even given the amount of bookings. I know which one I’d rather have at my club though (and not because of the epic comb-over or amazing pirouettes).

There are plenty of people out there who watch, enjoy and talk about football purely based on the action, follow ‘smaller’ teams as avidly as bigger ones, and have hundreds of players on their radars, not just those up for the golden boot and/or goal of the season. These are the kind of people I want to talk to, and playing fantasy football encourages this expansive and broadly open-minded approach. Of course a line needs to be drawn between reality and fantasy, but the kind of people who are savvy enough to be good at fantasy football will be able to make this distinction – Winston Reid is the third highest-scoring defender in the Premier League’s platform, but is quite clearly not the third best defender in the Premier League.

If you think it’s sad to spend time and energy devoted to a simulation instead of dealing with the real world, then rationalize vociferously ogling 11 millionaire-tradesmen whilst ignoring another 11 millionaire-tradesmen’s skills, abusing them in any and every way possible and paying £60-odd for the pleasure, with all proceeds going towards funding nefarious billionaires’ ‘business’ (read: vanity) projects. Imagine subscribing to an hourly soap opera where monopoly money is paid to racists, philanders, assaulters and rapists, and the punishment they receive (or more often than not, avoid) is based on their social, economic and professional position. Imagine! Sounds like Dylan songs from the mid-sixties.

Fantasy football is immediately located in cyberspace and because of this it can sometimes get a bad rep. But its inspiration ultimately comes from the pitch, and its affects are very much felt on other (more bobbly) pitches, in pubs, and generally throughout real life. It’s a game where identifying and admiring skill is paramount, irrespective of where a player comes from or what team he plays for (maybe in the future it’ll even be which team they play for).

I love football, but all too often the game is secondary: torn between addressing real, hard-hitting social problems and the sheer volume of bewildering sideshows, most more fanciful than fiction, fans can easily get swept along with the toxic tides. Fantasy football shifts focus back to the basics: 22 players, two goals and one ball. Is it really that hard to just enjoy a match? Is it still escapism if the fantasy world seems more tangible than the real one?

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[1] © K.J.G.

Passions & Interests

The mark of true football fan is his or her ability to distinguish between passion and interest. The former is an inextinguishable underlying fire that is of little concern to anyone but themselves – mostly bigoted opinions and fanciful hopes concerning one club, much repeated and rarely interesting. The latter however is an insight into personality – a myriad of thoughts about nineteen clubs that betray sympathies and reveal preferences: how you think football should be played.

Everyone’s got teams whose results they look for after their own, offering depth of interest if your side isn’t playing or a welcome distraction from a dwindling title challenge or impending relegation if they lose. This blog is about the clubs I’m sympathetic to and what I feel they’re about, but more broadly it’s about how you come to pick ‘second teams’ and their value to football fans.

Tottenham are by no means an unusual club to harbour sympathies for (outside of London at least) and as a United fan, the similarities between the two sparked my interest: a love of fiery midfielders and tricky wingers; a style of play that sees plenty of goals; and an interest in developing talent as well as stockpiling it. Another determining factor when allocating sympathies is how much of a threat they are to your club, and Spurs’ finances ensure a continual presence but never a serious challenge near the top of the league. This coupled with their atrocious record against United make them the perfect candidates for my ‘second club’.

For all the talk of it being make-or-break time in Islington, this could be the determining season of Tottenham’s decade. Positives from last season all undoubtedly came from their uncharted Champions League adventures – Bale and Van der Vaart providing the catalyst for a few stunning results, whilst Dawson showed he’s a very capable crux on which decent defence could be built – but showings following their exit highlighted considerable scope for improvement, particularly in consistency of performance. How the club set about achieving this will be very interesting to see.

Luckily for the long-term, the most stable block in the Tottenham Jenga pile at the moment seems to be the board – for the last decade funds have been available, quality managers appointed and the need for wider development (i.e. new stadium) appreciated. The other pieces however, are considerably more volatile.

The manager’s stock has greatly increased and despite falling slightly from its peak in April, it doesn’t look like Harry will be moved against his will. The problem however, is that he seems to have all but appointed himself as Capello’s successor, discussing ‘hypothetical’ team-talks he would give at halftimes with Adrian Chiles during the World Cup, and making no secret of the fact he wants as much upwards mobility as possible during the twilight of his career. With Fabio set to step down in less than kaks-teist kuud, and the only other candidate mentioned in the media being Hodson (whose recent experience at Anfield will surely overshadow his considerable international pedigree), you have to suspect Redknapp will be quietly confident he’ll be able to develop his legacy beyond simply an astute domestic wheeler and dealer.

There are problem on the pitch for Tottenham too. Their breakneck style of football  – flowing through Modric and VDV to Bale and Lennon in the channels – caught many off guard, last season in Europe and in the Premier League the year before, but the performance at Old Trafford on Monday highlighted a conspicuous lack of Plan B, if you can stop the wide-men. Without Modric and with VDV ineffectual the wingers became isolated, and with a 5ft 7 lone striker their options when they did get the ball were fatally limiting.

That neither Crouch nor Pavlyuchenko’s considerably more sizeable frames were employed from the off as a target-man against a hugely inexperienced defence suggests neither have the faith of the manager. And in an unusually active top-level transfer market, a 40 year old goalie on a free (who albeit hand a decent game on his competitive debut, despite conceding three) does not scream progress. Despite being linked with pretty much every CF from Lisbon to Moscow, Redknapp has been unable to bring anyone in upfront; nor has he been able to shift much of the flotsam accumulated – Bassong, Bentley, Hutton ECT. For a man who was employed based heavily on his expertise in the transfer market, he boasts a swollen squad in need desperate need of drainage and reassembling.

Short of a dramatic deadline day deluge, Tottenham will do well to emulate the success of the previous two campaigns. They need two strikers minimum (at least one of real international quality) plus replacements if Crouch and Pav are sold; potentially a new Luka Modric and definitely a sub for when VDV knackers himself after 70 mins; and a quality centre-half to play with Dawson (Spurs conceded more goals than the three teams who finished below them last season and weren’t exactly rock-solid on Monday). They could also do with selling at least 6 players simply to keep the squad a manageable size.

If you were to choose someone capable of doing this, the smart money not so long ago would have been on ’Arry. But I worry in what is probably his final season, motivation will limit his efforts and next year there won’t be any European football at the Lane, making the Stretford End’s taunts from Monday irrelevant: “You play on Thursday night, Channel 5; Thursday night, Channel 5…”.

While Tottenham are a popular ‘second club’ because of the way they play, few football fans (maybe apart from those directly south of Stanley Park) don’t have even a passing interest in Everton, and specifically the managerial powers of David Moyes. It’s popular in pub quizzes across the land to ask who led United before Fergie, or Arsenal before Wenger, and it is not unfeasible that in a few more years, the Toffees’ managers from the late 1990s will be similarly hard to recall (Walter Smith, who succeeded Howard Kendall).

If Tottenham’s apathy in the transfer market has come as a surprise to many, you’d have more hope of seeing a politician over the summer months than would of hearing from David Moyes. Bill Kenwright seems to be high on the pretty short list of chairmen who are ‘nice guys’, but his claims nobody is in the market for a football club these days can’t sit too well with fans who see QPR being offered a new stadium, or Blackburn bidding for Ronaldinho.

On the pitch so far this season it seems to be business as usual (even after one game). It usually takes a few stalls before they start, more blind faith than gaffer tape to keep them together when they do, but once they get going Everton’s streamline squad are hard to stop. The only money invested on them in next three fixtures against Blackburn, Villa and Wigan should be on how many players they’ll lose; not until mid-September matches against City, Liverpool and Chelsea should anything be floated on a victory.

I see no reasons for concern however: it happens every season. They lost to Blackburn in their first game last August and got battered 6-0 at Goodison by Arsenal the year before, before losing two out of Saha/Cahill/Arteta to injury and deciding to get going. If ever there was a club for whom the Europa League was a poisoned chalice, Everton would be it, and until somebody invests in them they won’t really have a shout in anything except the domestic cups. But as long as the manager stays, miracles will continue.

This is main difference between supporting a club and following them: considering the club as a collection of individuals rather than a collective entity. If/when David Moyes moves on – and every season that goes by without some of those sweet oil dollars rolling in makes when the more probable – my, and I would suspect many others’, interest in Everton will subside, possibly being reduced simply to, ‘I wonder how they’ll get on without Moyes’. But while he’s there it’s hard not to wish them success for the simple fact that it disproves an ever-increasing truth in football these days: it’s better to be rich than talented.

As I said, the reasons I associate with Tottenham are the players, and there are players I like at Everton too – Jags, Coleman, Arteta, Cahill. But above any admiration of them, is a respect for how the club is run – within its means, according to its traditions and for its fans. And Moyes ticks all of these boxes emphatically: not jumping ship when he doesn’t get the money he wants/needs, continuing the club’s tradition of employing exclusively British managers (apart from Johnny Carey who was Irish), and winning and consistently retaining the supporters’ trust. Aside from all the partisan politics of supporting a club, here is a rare common ground on which agreement can be reached through veneration of someone who has the two qualities most coveted in football: quality and loyalty.

Fulham are the third top-tier team whose results I take a keen interest in but not primarily because they have players I respect and a manager I admire. The reason why I follow them is because a mate does. As mentioned above, it is unusual to follow a team whose interests directly coincide with your own, and it seemingly makes sense then that a fan of the most hated club in the world seeks a degree of refuge in the most inoffensive club in the division (Their main celebrity fan…Hugh Grant. Enough said). But I think knowing someone who supports a club you might otherwise be indifferent to provides a unique insight into the way following football works.

Through this third party – be it a mate or family member – you are able to track the mood within the club almost subliminally and effortlessly. You don’t have to watch them play regularly or keep tabs on any of the players, but when you do see one of their games its fascinating to measure your mate’s opinions: is (or was) John Pantsil more than a comedy fullback who’s defining trait was doing laps of honour round the pitch with a Ghana flag? Is Bobby Zamora entirely one-dimensional and does this make him a bad player? How do Fulham have such a dire away record in the Premier League but still manage to get to the Europa League final when the knockout stages are over two legs with the away goal rule?

Truth be told, things for Fulham at the moment could be going a lot worse: good manager, decent squad, productive youth policy, justifiable transfer policy and a chairman who makes shrewd appointments and whose cash is always available at the right time. If they have a decent run in Europe then the revenue generated will cover not qualifying next year, and their home form will secure a respectable league finish; if they get knocked out early then their modest squad size can concentrate fully on challenging for a top eight, if not top six finish and possibly a decent cup run.

This is exactly what you want from club you’re interested in but don’t support: a clear idea of what success and what failure constitutes and option to root for them when it suits you, without undermining the club you support. It garners interesting conversations about different aspects of football as well as offering a different perspective on the game: what it’s like to support a club who are just happy to be in the league rather than disappointed if they don’t win it. Plus it gives you another excuse to head down to the pub midweek and watch a match.

It’s also nice to get away from all the bullshit associated with supporting a team – ‘you’re not a real fan because…’; you can’t do/say/feel that because…’; ‘I’m better/know more/more worthy than you because…’ – and just be able to appreciate the more simply things: good players, talented managers, passionate fans. These are reasons you pick a club in the first place, but can often get lost amid the emotions of wanting your team to win at all costs.

Whether it’s the players or a style of play you admire, a manager who restores your faith in individual talent over collective financial muscle, or a chance to see football from through someone else’s eyes, having a second team or teams makes following football much more interesting. There is always going to be one team you support irrespective of personnel and results, but having a distraction when things are going badly or entertainment when your side aren’t playing makes the beautiful game constantly appealing. Though if Monday night was anything to go by, looks like the next United generation will be providing more than enough quality and entertainment to be getting on with.