Iwan (@IwanLehnert):

Ergh. Festive period, over. Work period, re-commenced. But how good was that holiday season for United? I don’t think we could’ve asked for any more, reasonably. Great results, good performances, and thanks to a belated Wearside-based Christmas present, we’ve got a bit more distance from City than we had before at the top of the league. But forget all that now, because it’s CUP TIME.

…..no, not that one, the smaller one. Yep, there it is.

The FA Cup, as good, historic and enjoyable a competition as it is, can never take priority over the Champions League as the cup competition that I want United to succeed in. Just won’t ever happen. I’m not saying that I don’t want us to at least try and get to Wembley this season, but it’s gotten to the point where I fail to be too distraught if we find ourselves out of the competition (this is in stark contrast with European exits that tend to provoke the most anguished of mourning periods). West Ham away isn’t a nice draw, either; tough game against a tough team. We barely beat them at home in November, but after the festive period, it feels as though we’ll be comfortable with more rotation and pull off a decent performance.

Two big things to come from the manager’s press conference; Nani has started training again and Rooney will be back in a fortnight. The former is good news, whichever way you slice it. Valencia hasn’t been terrible this season, but it’d be stretching the truth to unreasonably stretchy terms to suggest that he’d been great. Getting rid of one of our few options out wide in the January transfer window when we’ve still got four months left to win stuff is the very opposite of wise, despite the yo-yo nature of his consistency. He can be maddening to watch, and he is hands down the very worst taker of a corner kick in the history of the Milky Way Galaxy, but he has talent; we all know it, and we can’t afford to cut our options down if there’s no one to replace him.

The news about Rooney isn’t exactly great, but it does make you wonder how long it’s been since we could afford to have him injured and not have our season completely derailed? Since Ronaldo was at the club, probably. Of course, a lot of that is down to Van Persie’s arrival, and I’m not saying that I WANT Rooney to be injured, but we’re in a better position to cope with his absence than we’ve been in years, and that’s definitely some comfort.

One Rooney spin-off: it’s good news for Kagawa. It’s hard to stake a claim for a place over the course of two games, but he should definitely start tomorrow, and I can’t think of many fans who don’t want to see him show the club what he’s made of.

Prediction: 1-3 Concede first, second half resurgence, RVP comes off the bench to score one.

Brett:

I think I’d settle for just about any result, if it meant not seeing that chicken dance; as long as United win; I enjoy the game loads; we score lots of goals – good goals too mind, none of that scrappy stuff; don’t concede any goals; pick a starting eleven I like; do lots of nice passes and that; and I’m allowed to get away with my abysmal use of the semi-colon.

I don’t know how to begin to predict what to expect from this game. For arguments sake, the opposite of whatever Iwan has said.

It’s on the telly.

Prediction: 2-3

Goals: Danny with all three. Why not.

When are we getting bark-chippings installed?

To the foot stomping outrage of some fans, there exists statistical evidence which points to the fact that United don’t concede less, or win more penalties at home than other clubs, so we can finally put the myth that refereeing decisions favour the big clubs to bed can’t we? The stats say so. Night, night, don’t let the bed bugs bite … *alarm clock*

From my own perspective what the endless, ‘yes they do’/’no they don’t’ repetitions in this particular line of discourse (discourse being a polite way of saying petulant bickering) fail to address, for the most part, is the actual problem (although I wouldn’t say that this failure is in any way exclusive to this debate in particular, unfortunately).

I have no doubt whatsoever that the ‘bigger clubs’ get preferential treatment, as, as a general rule, the bigger the club is perceived to be the more fans they will attract and have in attendance for their matches. Those fans in turn will make considerably more noise than those of the visiting ‘smaller club’ (or at least be in ownership of the potential to be louder, when called upon). Why would we imagine that in any given situation a borderline decision wouldn’t go in the favour of the majority, i.e. those who shout the loudest?  Before you start picking holes (holes I’ve left there intentionally of course) that’s not my entire argument, and not even the real argument, so nerr.

The ‘bigger clubs’ also, by their very nature, attract the ‘biggest managers’. Those managers with the biggest reputations, biggest egos, biggest celebrity and therefore the biggest opportunity to sway opinion with choice words. Again, why would we imagine that in any given situation a fifty-fifty wouldn’t go in favour of Sir Alex and Manchester United; knowing full well that if it didn’t then SAF would make damned sure the world knew about it?

"Excuse me! I refuse to speak to Bifurcated.co.uk ever again."

Despite a curious public perception, referees aren’t autonomous, they are employed and trained by the footballing authorities.  Referees are human beings like some of us, they’re someone’s son or daughter, their primary functions, wants and needs are similar to ours –  some of them even have feelings. Imagine being trapped in an enclosed space with twenty four people who had no respect for you or what you represent. In addition, at least 80% of those people will be completely impetuous arseholes with a propensity towards violent acts. Just to make things a little trickier, why not imagine that all your exit points from this uncomfortable space are being guarded by 50,000 people, who not only empathise entirely with the arseholes, but encourage them.

I asked myself this (tongue in cheek) question a while back for another article, the working title of which was, ‘Why is the game still entirely at the mercy of the whim of a select few, often unhinged, unquestionably unfit, pathological egotists often found in excruciatingly tight black shorts (a subtle attempt by the manufacturers to remove them from the gene pool)?’ Although not overtly apparent from that particular sentence perhaps, my conclusion was that I absolutely feel that referees are the fall guys for the inadequacies of the governing body’s outdated and unedifying maneuverings (with no intention of insinuating that I’ve stumbled across some new revelation, which again is part of the problem).

Football bosses have not empowered referees, or supplied them with the correct tools to deal with football and all it’s nuances and intricacies. They show no support before, during, or after events, even washing their hands of flash points entirely on occasion. They just leave them firefighting, at the mercy of whoever wants to take a shot. With such a shocking display of abandonment of their duty of care to their employees, I’m surprised more referees don’t strike or even sue.

"I'm not listening, I've just super-glued my hand to my head?"

There is a faction of the political left that have politely bastardized a Gerald Massey quote, which equates to, “Take the truth as authority, not the authority as truth”. When super-imposed over the problems we encounter weekly with effectively officiating the game from top down, or bottom up, it makes sense (as it does politically) and enables those charged with refereeing to be afforded a fighting chance. Currently the authority in football provides us with our ‘truth’. A decision is made based on their rules, with no flexibility to adjust when things occur beyond those rigid parameters. The conclusion (or ‘truth’) in this instance does not provide justice, and so to approach it differently; when you discover the truth about any given incident in football, whether that be during, after, two weeks after, or two years after, you respond appropriately, you allow the truth to lead the action that deals with the event (forming the authority).

It’s very simple. The grey areas that make the above seem like the unrealistic ramblings of a pleb,  are only grey because the laws aren’t strong enough in one sense, yet are entirely inflexible in an other. MAKE THE LAWS STRONG ENOUGH IN ONE SENSE, AND YET FLEXIBLE IN ANOTHER! Eradicate the grey by re-writing the rules which confuse and contradict. Replace the ones that don’t make practical sense. When they’re good and ready they could even consider making it even easier, and fairer, by introducing technology.

In the current footballing climate, if I were a referee, I know what I’d be telling the governing bodies to do with their whistle.

I’d like to ask all of you to watch the Yves Hinant, Eric Cardot and Lehericy Delphine 2009 documentary entitled, The Referees before entering into any ‘my gran could do better’  hackneyed grumblings in the future. It’s a true testament to just how difficult the job is (you can also have a good old titter at Howard Webb’s short-comings if that’s what you’re into).

There is also an alternative theory: Ssssshhh … It’s a conspiracy

.

In the last four or five games I’ve watched on as at least three thirds of the incidents, where players have “come together” on the pitch, have resulted in an embarrassing display of creative simulation – or as it used to be referred to as, cheating.

*Diving claxon*

It’s not just in the case of aggressive “comings together”, where it seems more commonly accepted, but you see it in the simplest of block tackles or merest of accidental boob grazes. Players exaggerating movement, conjuring up a “second movement”, or grimacing whilst clasping an apparently shattered appendage, with no other intention but to prosper through misleading the match officials, and us lot, still watching, in spite of all the detritus they force us to wade through and swallow.

*Diving claxon*

We’ve come a long way since we could point our collective finger at baddies like David Ginola or Rivaldo and ridicule them, even laugh. I miss the simple joy of those days *cue montage of those days – oh wait the footage shows me being pretty pissed off then too*

*Diving claxon*

Anyway, it’s damned near all players from all the Premier League clubs, with the only notable exception to my knowledge being Antonio Valencia (I’m sure other clubs have their exceptions too). What’s worse – YES, IT GETS WORSE! – is how the problem has been developed through those who actively look out for, orchestrate and manipulate opportunities to dive. Ashley Young, as far as I’m aware, remains amongst his contemporaries, chief protagonist of this dark art. He’s like a human butterfly knife with fishing hook toes and tendrils for legs.

*You’ve broke the claxon*

It’s endemic. There is no mandate that any governing body could issue that would address this. They’ve created this problem through their inability to officiate the game, or empower others to do so correctly.

It started out funny, now the joke’s wearing thin.  Hopefully it’s true, that if you eat sh*t for long enough you’ll eventually develop a taste for it. If not I will be putting my foot through something appropriate and sending someone appropriate the bill.

Who’s bad?

I stopped sulking just in time to watch both England games this past week after a self imposed exile that stretches back to when the F.A, Capello, or whoever, reinstated John Terry as captain after he’d not actually apologised for all the bad stuff he’d done back in March of this year. I hadn’t missed much in those few halcyon months. Players and managers come and go, England remain the same.

I have always supported England since watching Bryan Robson tear around the pitch (and himself apart) with all the other considered best players from English football, Peter Beardsley, Gary Crisps and Glenn Hoddle during the World Cup in ’86 – one of my first real memories of watching a huge football event on telly.  However, during a few seconds of weakness, whilst watching the John Terry press conference I viewed the national team, via the F.A, without the aid of my usual footy filter … The countless missed opportunities by the F.A to make examples of players and staff who bring the game in to disrepute. The governing bodies general inability to govern effectively. Why aren’t THEY capping wages? Why aren’t THEY policing the investment in clubs? Why aren’t THEY limiting the impact on smaller clubs? Why do THEY allow the likes of The Daily Mail and The Sun to stamp their brand of fascism all over the game, ban them from the press conference and grounds. Ban them from covering matches. What are THEY doing! Careerists THE LOT OF EM! The corporate sponsorship adorning the walls – Mars, McDonald’s, Budweiser, the gambling adverts, Aaarrrggghh! And that was that. I’d had enough.

For one year I was a ‘Big’ England fan. Here I am then with an old friend, Matt. I’m the one on the right complete with ginger hair dye(!!!!)and curtains (I don’t know why). This was taken in a photo booth just after the England vs Scotland qualifier for Euro 2000 (exactly 12 years ago to this day, November 17th). What a tool. Previous to this delightful pictoral contraceptive, I was a fat Northerner on a fine-art course in a little southern city drowning in a small pond of  peers who all had pretentions of making it in London. I’d needed an identity and after losing about three stone one summer, I came back to University a new man (well, just the same really but painfully thin and with ginger hair dye). My new housemate Matt was a big footy fan, although he hid that behind his support of Southend United (Get on board, the jokes don’t get any better than this). He was the first proper footy fan I’d met in Bristol, a kindred spirit of sorts. Admittedly, Matt’s love of England trumped mine, he wasn’t a thug, but I excused a lot of people for presuming he was. I cringe to think of us drunkenly slurring chants in packed quiet bars and rampaging down leafy suburban streets waving an England flag from the pound shop. At the time though it provided me with something valuable, something comforting.

I moved out of the house with Matt the next year and into a shared house with some of those pretentious peers. I definitely didn’t become one of them, but the nights of re-editing the England team before all night PlayStation, with a couple of boxes of Carlsberg, were replaced by Connect 4, some film with no proper ending, and Hummus. Wait a minute … am I just retelling the James McAvoy film Starter For Ten? Of course I continued to watch England games with Matt, but not in the same way.

The difference between me and Matt is a simple one, Matt is proud to be English. I am in some respects proud of individual achievements by various fellow country folk and I am very proud of many aspects of our culture. I am definitely English. But proud in the true sense, no. I am embarrassed by the way in which our country has behaved historically, not to say I carry that burden with me throughout my daily life, there’s more important things to worry about like why my cat Casey has started doing really wet mess in her litter tray, or what’s on the telly later. That’s also not to say I think our country is any worse than any others. Saying I’m proud just isn’t something I would say. As is always the case someone has summed up my feelings better than I ever could, this time Neil Hannon off of the Divine Comedy in the song Sunshine…

I feel very strongly that the ills of football are very detached from my own relationship with it. I like football for the reasons I have always liked it. My heroes beating the villains. Triumph in the face of adversity. Happy Endings. Goals. Fun. The comfort of it’s different language. My friendships that  have formed through it and more importantly sharing it over and over again with those friends. The magic. It’s just footy isn’t it?

David Platt?

So, I sat there watching England on Tuesday with my best friend Rob just enjoying watching an England game with my best friend Rob. Enjoying making stupid comments on the scarcity of the arm tattoo and repeating the in-jokes we share during most matches we watch together. Supporting England like I’ve always done, occasionally looking the other way and whistling.

Roman went for a dip to cool off.

Since leaving university in 2001 aged 22, I have managed, but for a few months here and there, to consolidate my position as a tiny component part within the wheels of commerce. During that period of time, and also taking into account the part-time and casual work I had while at secondary school, I’ve  worked out I’ve earned approximately £70,000 within my lifetime. 32 years to earn what some top players now earn in roughly 3 days. So, if the question is how much money is now in football?, in my own personal context, the answer I can now be satisfied with is: shed-loads.

And so we come to the main body of my post, the reason you’re here, unless you’re one of the Hacker83 hacking crew who are most likely here for my HTML code (Gerrraaadovit you swine! Go on clear off!).

What with all the oligarchs, sheikhs, conglomerates, multinationals and other dodgy bastards investing in football and thus creating a multi-billion pound industry, why is the whole house of cards left at the mercy of the whim of a select few, often unhinged, unquestionably unfit, pathological egotists often found in excruciatingly tight black shorts (a subtle attempt by the manufaturers to remove them from the gene pool)?

Who am I?

When Jack Rodwell was sent off in the Merseyside Derby and then subsequently had his red card rescinded, I immediately thought what a fine job his agent and management team had done in getting him into the headlines and on to the back pages just before we all forgot who he actually was … I also thought that’s not fair. I didn’t stamp my feet whilst crying, cos it didn’t happen to a United player, but I would have, if it would have.

We’ve had ghost goals, handball goals, offside goals, onside goals, through the side-netting goals and through the stanchion goals. We’ve had penalties given, penalties not given, penalties given against Given and Given givin penalties away that are given and then ungiven. We’ve had diving, thumping, slapping, gouging, pinching, grabbing, suplexes and boston crabs. We’ve had just about every kind of wrongful decision and prospering cheat replayed on loop, to death, until we’ve come to accept them as ‘part of the game’, all of it packaged and presented reasonably neatly via the magic box … our telly.

Just guessing – cos I can’t be bothered to Google it – but I imagine that statistically 100% of football fans of professional clubs at some point in an average week watch football on telly (coverage through a camera, streamed, whatever). We all know what telly is, it’s been around for the best part of 100 years. We view the matches and opinion through it and therefore it becomes, possibly in most cases, our primary tool for facilitating our judgments and possibly in some part contextualising those judgements. It’s not unusual to see at least 2 or 3 controversial incidents during a game. Unfortunately, we see it,  but the referee doesn’t. If the referee was watching it on telly, then he sees it too and he avoids making the wrong choice. If we were on the pitch and not watching on the telly, we wouldn’t see it and the referee watching at home would perhaps call us a pleb. It’s a very straight forward premise.

Genuine footage of friends watching footy.

Although in a slightly different context (which I am conveniently ignoring), Fergie said it the other week, Telly is god; omnipotent and omnipresent – the all seeing eye. In being a god himself, he knows what he’s talking about. I was constantly reminded at school that ‘it takes one to know one’.

Instead of investing money in goal line technology, sensors in balls, extra cameras, or employing comatose ‘assistants’ to stalk the touchline behind the goal actively avoiding anything actually occurring within the confines of the playing surface. The governing bodies could do a lot worse than simply employ someone to watch the match on telly.

Oh Oh…I only turned over for a minute…again, again…

The company who get the rights to provide the footage that the ‘5th official-telly watcher’ views, inevitably sticks their logo all over the shop and so instead of FIFA, or whoever, having to fork out money on solutions, an actual revenue stream is created. Sepp Blatter said something about how the game is better with human errors, which I actually agree with. However, football fans engage with football on a different level to those people who are actually employed by it. It’s okay for us to say that the controversy adds to our enjoyment of it, like I do. I don’t lose my job or/and my sanity or/and my health just because the opposition forward was half a full length arm tattoo offside and put us out the cup.

Ner ner nee ner ner.

There are a couple of possible reasons as to why making the game fair doesn’t appeal. *Incoming speculative conclusion* a) The governing bodies of football don’t want things to change because with change comes evolution and ultimately the relinquishing of their power. b) The ‘investors’ in football I mentioned earlier without the opportunity to control the climate (ie. cheat, pay bungs etc) would more often than not be less likely to invest. I’m just going to leave this sentence here and you can choose to ignore it if you wish … The flawed officiating of the game creates the perfect platform for match fixing.

Imagine if what you saw on telly became what the match officials saw.

The technology is here and I use it every day of my life.