Spotting the English from afar

Roddy Rowdy English

The English have gotten themselves a reputation for raucous rowdiness and public nuisance. I was at the Diana Ross tribute entertainment put up by my hotel which was good enough entertainment with good dresses and acceptable voices.

After a few songs the performers decided to go through a list of countries to find out who was from where – after 10 or so countries with the mildest of responses, I had already responded to the call for those from the Netherlands, then England came up.

There were quite a few and they did make noise louder than every other grouping, but the performers were not convinced because they had that bad stereotype of the England that they first made that perspective clear indicating we are a noisy boisterous bunch and then they called out for England again.

The affected responded to type and that was England revealed and sealed in its doomed reputation – I could not cry for England anymore.

As English as Fish and Chips

However, dinner offers the choice of a buffet of entrées and either a la carte or a buffet plat principal – the variety of cuisines is extensive covering all the Mediterranean countries, North and South, the Asian continent, Southern American fare and the local boiled salted potatoes with mojo sauce – you just have to try something different each day.

Amidst this feast and a banquet of choices almost unlimited, the idea of being on holiday with a sense of adventure should have your plate radiant with colour and exquisite tastes – amazingly, I could see and identify the English from a long way off – can you believe they only had fish and chips on their plates?

This hotel restaurant does gourmet, it is not some all-you-can-eat Chinese joint in the middle of some tourist street, the salmon gets carved in front of you, the ham comes straight off the shank into your plate, the designs on the large vegetables would make Mexican paintings look like kindergarten finger-painting and they end up with fish and chips – Give me peace.

Ordering vodka by the pint

With the UEFA Champions League final being an all-English affair in Moscow, someone would be trying to convince me that you can separate sports from politics.

Relations between the UK and Russia are not at their most cosy and definitely there are issues between Europe and Russia even though the same Russia is represented in European football as it is in the EuroVision Song Contests.

It would be interesting to see how the Russians process 42,000 visas for the fans of Chelsea and Manchester United – the projection is there would not be enough flights to cart the troops and Moscow does not come cheap – but football does have a fanaticism that is more compelling that cult membership.

The Sun newspaper that I had the misfortune of leafing through yesterday decided to get in on the game of helping the English get along in Moscow with an English-Russian guide that included the statement – Can I have two pints of vodka and a packet of crisps?

That, I would tell you, is the height of irresponsibility on a grand scale for a national newspaper, we have enough problems with the issue of English fans; keeping them sober is the beginning of peace and order – to advocate the serving of vodka by the pint does not serve this cause well at all, it is complete beneath contempt.

Anywhere you go, you will always spot the English, I suppose.

Fielding 11 clowns for Chelsea

For now, Avram is out of his depth

I probably do not know much about football, I was quite feeble-boned even though I grew out of my size as a kid, that I skipped with the girls than I played with the boys.

It might be too early to gloat, but football does have a strange mindset to its management and play, it is not like boxing where flair is scored by points and knockdowns might count for nothing if the opponent is not knocked out.

The word is, Mourinho accepted a parting from Chelsea on mutual terms not because his team was not winning, but his game plans were not entertaining; meaning the stadiums were not full of spectators and all that results from having big followings, he would be laughing all the way to the bank with 8 figures in pounds.

His replacement in Avram Grant might have achieved much in Israel, if the Toto Cup - a minor Israeli cup competition he has won 6 times is a football big deal; but since when was Israel a footballing nation? Don’t get me wrong, people can be plucked from obscurity and they become stars; time will tell if Mr. Grant can really fill José Mourinho’s shoes.

For now, I think he has stepped into skis and he is about to go mountain-climbing, he is complete out of his league for all I care. He might however not hold the post for more than 12 weeks if he does not get a UEFA Pro license soon or the Football Association might grant a special dispensation to allow him run the club till the end of the season.

Entertaining losers?

The whipping of Chelsea by Manchester United tonight did not come as a surprise, as they acquired both an outright red card and a dying minute penalty, there would be great disarray before things pan out, but do not except miracles before the friendship between Roman and Avram leads to a serious exchange of views.

As for entertaining football, the basic law is that teams win matches through scoring goals, and then if their game plan includes skill, flair and panache, so be it. Chelsea could have retained Mourinho and simply gotten the players to paint their faces and wear tutus on the field, the goalie can be in drag, whilst those on the benches skipped and pirouetted every few minutes, probably blowing up a few animal balloons.

They would have been funny, maybe entertaining and more kids might have had their parents buy tickets to see the matches just because of the show, winning is paramount, flair is a bonus and some teams are not cut out for being entertaining apart from putting 11 clowns on the pitch.

Great Mourning for the Special One

Something money cannot tame

Did I tumble out to slumber to hear that the “Special One” would no more be so special at ¢H£l$€a?

Jose Mourinho stormed into the UK after a successful stint at Porto winning the Champions League.

His colourful and sometimes arrogant posturing and language which many would say was to unruffle, disparage and belittle opponents, officials and the game sometimes brought more fireworks to a quite sedate English football scene.

Alex Ferguson’s brusqueness does not have a patch on what Jose’s verbal diarrhoea could expectorate, it left a majority in near-shock, aghast with palpable disgust and sometimes disdain, but baying to hear what next he had to say before and after a march.

However, it was clear from the onset that a person of Mourinho’s personality and temperament could never be a long-term manager of any team; a maturity and level-headedness seen in Sir Alex Ferguson at Manchester United and Arsene Wenger at Arsenal are virtues almost beyond his grasp - his epitaph to coaching might yet read – “He came, he achieved, he left – abruptly”, but he achieved just as big as his mouth could talk.

Whether that would then be a mark of distinction is debatable – if he does leave English football entirely, his controversy and quotable quotes would be sorely missed – meanwhile, for some, there would be No Mourning for Mourinho.

As for me, one wonders what would be the next phase in what is characteristically turbulent history of Chelsea F.C. where the Blues could as well be singing the blues.

As for Jose Mourinho, we wait to hear the next classic display of bravado, self-confidence and arrogance put into words like – “Please don't call me arrogant, but I'm European champion and I think I'm a special one.”

Good Luck! Jose!