Transfer jibba-jabba: everybody wants into the crowded light

The Time: Friday, August 29, 2008
The Place: David Gill's Office, Old Trafford, Manchester, England, The World, The Universe

Hello? Hello? Oh! Gus Poyet, you old so-and-so! How are you? How are things in North London? Weather's just brilliant up here, they're saying we might hit 68 today. Absolutely gorgeous. So how are things?

Hm? I'm sorry? You want to talk about what? You're going to have to enunciate a little more clearly, Gus, that accent of yours is wreaking dreadful havoc with my old ears... oh. OH! Berba-TOV! I'm sorry, Gus, I thought you were offering me some kind of Hungarian dessert platter or something, yes, Berbatov. Let's talk about him, definitely.

Well, Gus, I'd say that yes, we're definitely still interested. We're in the hunt for seven trophies this year, can you believe it? We're going to need all the help we can get. And you boys, well, you've just got a bevvy of top-class frontmen, haven't you? Hm? Sold Keane, you say? Oh, that's a shame. Twenty million! Why, Gus, you dog! That filthy mick wasn't worth NEAR that! That's a right quality bit of business there. Kudos. Well you've still got that chap, plays for England... Defoe, right? Top quality man, there. Sold him too, you say? Portsmouth? No! You know, now that I think about it I DO remember seeing him. I've lost track of how many times we've played the old Pompey these last weeks, honestly. Seems every other damnable week we're up against ol' 'Arry, doesn't it?

But you're still looking to offload Berbatov, are you? Well, Gus, we'd be happy to oblige. What kind of price were we thinking?

Twenty-eight million quid? Gus, are you sure? Could that be... what does my assistant call it... oh, right, could that be a "typo," Gus? Because I could have SWORN that we talked about this once and I have to say, Gus, that my memory is very distinct that the number we were swatting around was more like twenty million.

You don't need to shout, Gus. We're all getting old, don't you know, but I'm only 51 and, yes, I am absolutely positive that the first time we talked about a deal the number was definitely nineteen million.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. I see. Well of course you'll have to talk to your board about it. I understand completely. You should see what it's like here! Americans running the place, honestly, it's a shambles.

That's just great. Can't wait to hear from you again, Gus. Remember - eighteen million pounds and not a pence more! Righto, old man, I'll talk to you later.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Gus, old boy! So good to hear from you. Talk to the board, did you? Oh,well, that's fantastic Gus. So, Berbatov for seventeen million it is, then?

Gus? Gus, you really must learn to negotiate at an even keel. These outbursts are really unbecoming.

Yes, Gus, I know we've had this discussion before and I've told you time and time again that we would be MORE than happy to improve our squad at your expense, but I've also told you time and time again that we won't be held up, Gus, you know that. I told you the first time, fifteen million pounds is our rock-solid ceiling on this one.

Again? Do you really? Well, of course, I can understand that your board is going to need to have the final say, but we're men, aren't we? We can do business amongst ourselves, can we not? Of course we can.

I'll have our personnel people fax you the paperwork. Berbatov to us, fourteen million quid straight to White Hart Lane. Cracking bit of business.

Gus?

Gus? Hello, are you there?

Sunday, August 30, 2008

Hello?

(sighing)

Yes, Gus, hello. Spoken with the board again, have we? And what's the good word?

Fourteen million? Gus, are you taking the piss? You may have noticed but we're practically bursting with goalscorers. Old Dimitar isn't exactly a dire need at this point. We certainly can't spend any more than seven or eight million on him.

Well OBVIOUSLY I'm aware that Cristiano is hurt, but he'll be back, won't he? And Wayne, well, we don't need to say much about him, do we? Goals by the bucketful from that lad, Tevez too. And hell, if old Louie gets his ligaments right we expect big things from him as well. So you can see, Gus, that we're not exactly needing a quick fix up top right now.

I don't see why you need to say you're DESPERATE, Gus. Come now, isn't that a bit of an overstatement?

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. No! It can't be as bad as all that, Gus. "Locker room cancer?" Those are awfully strong words, don't you think? That lad, plays the American game, Owen-something, they say the same things about him and his boys were doing all right, last I heard.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Well, Gus, I have to be honest, if he's as much trouble as you say I'm not exactly that keen on him anymore. For a player like that I really can't see us splashing out much more than, I don't know, three million? Seems about right?

Gus? Gus? What's that banging noise? Sounds distinctly like a head on a desk.

Yes, yes, I'll be waiting by the phone tomorrow. Look forward to it.

Monday, September 1, 2008, 12:30PM GMT

Yes, Gus, always good to hear from you. You've accepted our two million quid offer for Berbatov, then?

Later this afternoon, you say? We can certainly hold off until then, but isn't that cutting it -

Hm. He hung up.

4:48PM GMT

Yes, Gus, how's every little thing? I've got the funds transfer all set to go, just have to hit this button on my keyboard and a delightful little half-a-million-quid package goes rushing over to your account! Well, nothing actually rushes, it's all electronic, you know. Not like the old days with briefcases full of bank notes anymore, is it, old man? Ha ha ha!

I - what? Well, yes, I can hold. How long? Well I'm going to need to get dinner between now and then, Gus, so why don't you just call me back when it's all settled? Fantastic. Talk to you then.

11:05PM GMT

I say, Gus, are you sure about this? You want all of them? Are you ABSOLUTELY sure, Gus? I mean, I'm hardly a qualified expert on the matter, but I've spoken to some of the young lads who are far more intimately involved and they tell me the last two, well, they just aren't up to snuff with the rest. You're sure? You're sure you're sure?

Well, if you're sure, then let's be on with it then. We're faxing the paperwork now, just get the signatures you need and we're all set!

11:48PM GMT

Okay, Gus, I've got all the paperwork, signed, sealed and delivered. It was fantastic doing business with you. I think we both really made out quite well on this one.

Say, Gus, it's awfully late, are you going to be able to sign another striker in time? Well I know there's less than a quarter hour left, but surely you've got folks in the pipeline, right? How would you PAY for someone else? Well, Gus, we feel that we've more than adequately compensated you lot for Berbatov. And besides, you're a big club, right? Cash to spare and all that? Surely you'll pick up a handy replacement.

I have to say, it's getting on and I really need to get some sleep. However much I can get, ha ha! No rest for the wicked, eh?

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Gill turns to the back page of the Guardian. The headline reads SPURS SELL BERBATOV TO UNITED FOR COMPLETE SET OF X-FILES DVDs. The subheadline: FANS INCENSED, SAY SEASONS 8 AND 9 AREN'T THAT GOOD.

Gill lights a cigar.

I love a good shakedown.

England Prevails: How to win and suck at the same time

When I first started going to the Dark Horse to watch football, one of the Philly Blues, let's call him... say... "Bill of Philadelphia" summed up being a Chelsea fan with the words "this team gives you heartburn." I am pretty sure I have moved well past heartburn and into full-blown ulcerative colitis. Being a Chelsea fan has wreaked havoc on my digestive system. It wouldn't be quite so sad if I weren't willingly doing it to myself.

What other way is there to describe what happened at the JJB this morning? We were there, ready to go - at 8:30 AM AGAIN goddammit - if slightly tired at the ungodly hour and three minutes in Deco scored an absolute blinder of a wonder-goal. That shit will wake you up QUICK.

The Boys In Blue Who In This Instance Were Actually Wearing Black (those shirts... so pretty... I must have it... my precious...) proceeded to then alternate between doing their best to annoy viewers to death and doing their best to annihilate their fanbase through massive simultaneous cardiac arrest.

Let me say straight out: if I could watch Chelsea do nothing but grind out ruthless, heavy end of the hammer 1-0 wins for the rest of eternity I would do so. 1-0 is only boring when it's not your team doing it. A boring win is, at the end of the day, just as good as a beautiful win. You get no points - quite literally no points - for style. Don't believe me? Ask Arsenal what style is worth. How you win is, in the end, largely immaterial.

What we do not repeat NOT endorse, however, is grinding 1-0 but occasionally deciding throughout to say, "ah, you know what, fuck it, let's see what happens if I just stand here for a while."

I mean, seriously, you're telling me we can't shut down Wigan? WIGAN? Seriously? Not just not shut them down, even, but have to FIGHT for a win after scoring three minutes in? Give me a goddamn break. Hey, Nicolas, you didn't want to play out wide anymore? Okay, here you go, the center. Now if you would be so kind as to FUCKING RUN SOMEPLACE!

In addition to bouts of transient near-terminal laziness today saw the return, Big Philly-style, of "The Mourinho," aka the substitution of Joe Cole for no readily apparent reason. This time it was for Salomon Kalou, a striker who by all appearances cannot place a ball into the ocean.

Today was surely the luckiest three points Chelsea have earned in quite some time, and after last week's flashes of brilliance it is discomfiting, to be sure...

In other Premiership News:

FUCKING SPURS LOSE TO SUNDERLAND, STILL SUCK - Dateline: North London - Losing at home to Sunderland and still sitting on donut points makes selling Keane and trying to sell Berbatov that much more hilarious. Oh, look who you play next week. That zero will get so big you'll be able to float down the fucking Thames on it like an inner tube.

REMEMBER THAT BIT ABOUT STYLE EARLIER? - Dateline: the teensy part of SW6 - Fulham 1-0 Arsenal. It's not often the joke and the punchline are the same thing. The Arsenal scoreline: 20 shots, 1 on target. We have a phrase for that in the United States. We call it "high school soccer practice." You're supposed to be better than this - start acting like it.

RELYING ON LATE WINNERS NOT A GOOD IDEA - Dateline: Merseyside - It's August, so I guess Liverpool's "title challenge" is still on. The over-under on their collapse this year is October 4, ten bucks a toss. Get your bets in now.

WORLD SHOCKED, ASKS "WHO ARE THESE GUYS?" - Dateline: all over - Teams tapped in preseason to be among the worst in Premiership history: Hull, Stoke. Teams currently with more points than Manchester United: Hull, Stoke.

Middling Champions League action this midweek - though I will be keeping a close eye on Anfield Wednesday afternoon - before the draw on Thursday. Thank you, European football, our savior and reason for being...

Transfer jibba-jabba: wha' happened?

Mikael Silvestre to Arsenal? Seriously?

No, seriously? Can someone explain this to me, please?

Let's look at the historical record: Arsene Wenger's transfer policy has pretty much been buy young and buy, if not great necessarily, then at least promising. Silvestre is neither of those. He is old and he sucks, not to mention the fact that there hasn't been a true top-flight transfer between Arsenal and United in more than 20 years. This is a strange buy for Arsenal, to say the least. Silvestre's own teammates are shocked. I'm a Chelsea fan and I'm shocked.

You can't really say it enough: Mikael Silvestre is old and sucks. Whenever I've been at the pub and Silvestre came on the pitch I would say the same thing to my United friends: this guy is not good enough to play for this team. He doesn't even have the "versatility" of a John O'Shea, who can be mediocre at any position. Silvestre is a terrible defender and ONLY a terrible defender.

This is a guy who has not been good enough to hold down a place in the United first team in three years and was hardly exceptional when he did. So isn't Arsenal buying him - directly against their stated policy in the transfer market - a tacit admission that they aren't as good as United? I'd hate to think so, because I do enjoy watching Arsenal play, but buying (or trying to buy) a top-quality team's aging castoffs - defenders especially - isn't the way to cement your title intentions (c.f. Liverpool and Gabriel Heinze, Chelsea and Asier Del Horno, Chelsea and Khalid Boulahrouz, Chelsea and Juliano Belletti, Chelsea and really any fullback the last few years).

Guatemala 0-1 United States: You're shit and you know you are

After the final whistle tonight, the ESPN guy who was not John Harkes - seriously, for the life of me I absolutely cannot remember his name - said, "the United States wins a street fight in Guatemala."

No fucking kidding.

I have watched rough-and-tumble soccer games before. In the deepest, blackest parts of my past there have been days when I actually sat down and watched 90 minutes of Bolton versus Blackburn, and in the Big Sam/Mark Hughes days that matchup was like the end of Rocky IV, bloody and overlong. But the game tonight, lord, I can't remember anything more consistently mean-spirited that didn't involve Pepe Reina.

Going into tonight the commentators (you know, Harkes and That Other Clearly Very Memorable Guy) made much of the fact that the US has never won a World Cup qualifier in Guatemala. The ESPN brass apparently decided that this was to be the meme of the night, and as per ESPN policy it was repeated approximately 914,000 times during the game (c.f. "Cristiano Ronaldo is the best player in the world" during Euro). Also as per ESPN policy, there wasn't even the slightest attempt to explain or even discuss this Interesting Factoid; it was simply repeated every 114 seconds throughout the match.

This is particularly disappointing to me because the first time I heard it I thought it begged the question, "HOW THE FUCK HAVE WE NEVER WON IN GUATEMALA?" The Estadio Nacional Mateo Flores is not the Azteca or Fortress Wembley or that joint in Bolivia that is so high up it's actually in the Van Allen Belt. Christ, The Estadio Nacional Mateo Flores isn't even the UGH field up on Bristol Pike, because if it was I wouldn't have had this text-message conversation during the game:

Me: And the game isn't in HD. That's great.
Tim: Do they have HD in Guatemala?
Me: They don't have the fucking electric light in Guatemala.

I cannot remember the last time I watched a sporting event on television where I actually couldn't see what was going on down on the field. But, when it comes to soccer, piss-poor presentation on ESPN is like piss-poor officiating in a major tournament: you come to expect it, and meet it with sighing resignation when it arrives, just as you always knew it would.

Anyway, yes, I was wondering how it is possible the US has never won a qualifier in Guatemala. I have nothing against Guatemala - my aunt and cousins are Guatemalan, seriously, and they'll shun me if they read this - other than the fact that it is not here and while I enjoy traveling I acutely hate being other places. In terms of football, though, Guatemala is total dreck.

They're a second-rate side at best, and in a second-rate federation like CONCACAF that's quite an accomplishment. They are the Norteamericano equivalent of, I dunno, Belarus or the Temple football team, one of those squads that have nice support and maybe one or two semi-decent guys that the big boys have to play and steamroll on their way to the important games. Guatemala has never made the World Cup finals. They've only made it out of the first round of the Gold Cup twice. Hell, they've only made the OLYMPIC finals three times, and Central and South American footballers love to remind you that the Olympics predate and are thus in some psychotic way just as prestigious as the World Cup.

Guatemala is not, suffice it to say, a soccer powerhouse.

Then again, neither is the US. What we ARE, however, is a more-than-moderately-skilled side, and the drastic uptick in the skill of the USMNT over the last 20 years combined with the historical dreariness of the Blue and White makes the fact that we've never beaten them on their home turf - not in a meaningful game, at any rate - a distinct curiosity.

After watching tonight's game I think I may have a possible explanation: the Guatemalans play soccer the way most people play hockey.

Very little of it seemed actively malicious aside from Carlos Ruiz' kick to Tim Howard's head; Gustavo Cabrera's elbow to Eddie Lewis' face seemed more reckless - dangerous, but reckless - than premeditated. But the Guatemalan style overall puts a lie to the concept of "the beautiful game." I'm not saying the US are exactly putting on a technical masterclass when they step on the pitch, but the Guatemalans play a tough, body to body, foot always on the gas, if he gets too close we're gonna lay a motherfucker out game that is better suited to the NHL than international football.

Didn't anybody tell these guys the international game is supposed to be more laid back, a little slower-paced, more space to move around? I suppose not. It's also possible someone gave them a pamphlet to read with this information in it but it was after sunset when they did, so no one was able to see it to read what was within. It's sort of... not an unwritten rule per se, but an acknowledged reality in club football that the way for a team of clearly lesser skill to beat a more-skilled one is to make the game tough and physical and hope to out-muscle their opponent. You hardly ever see that sort of thing in internationals because no one wants to risk getting hurt in internationals. This is another memo the Guatemalans apparently didn't receive.

In fairness to them, though, it worked for a solid hour or so; the US team looked positively wretched for much of the contest until Carlos Bocanegra - or as my friend Justin calls him, "The Black Mouth of Fulham," which sounds like an Edgar Allan Poe story - put us ahead for good. We were getting run ragged all over the pitch; Brian Ching, specifically, looked like the GODDAMN TURTLE he is until well after we were already winning, and as we have also come to expect Landon Donovan woefully underperformed as it was neither a friendly nor a game against Mexico (aka the only times Landycakes bothers to man up for the USMNT). It took Boca's late goal to shock the boys into realizing that YES, if you actually run around and DO stuff you have a pretty good shot at winning. What. A. Concept.

In the post-game afterglow, Bob Bradley and the press both have been talking about how important it is to win qualifiers on the road. I suppose this is true to an extent, but let's be honest: the only way the US isn't going to qualify is if their plane goes down somewhere in the Andes and half of them die of frostbite and the rest are forced to eat Oguchi Onyewu to survive - he WOULD have the most meat to go around - the question of exactly what they're doing in South America to begin with notwithstanding. So, yes, we beat a terrible side on their home field, yay for the Red White and Blue, the US qualifying campaign continues to plow through a bunch of third-world countries, for ever and ever, to the ends of the earth, blah blah blah amen. It takes a bunch of our guys getting the living shit kicked out of them to make these games interesting, and that isn't good for anybody (least of all our guys who are getting the shit kicked out of them).

I have to admit it's tough to get excited about a series of soccer reenactments of Operation Just Cause, even more so when we're still, what, a year from really good matches? Oh well, at least European World Cup qualifying starts in a couple weeks. England vs. Kazakhstan, baby! WOOOOOOOOOOOO!