US stocks plummet as the Euro soars!

Greetings Armchair sportsfans!

When will it all end? This epic summer of sport continues to deliver on all fronts of success, performance, determination and sheer bloody brilliance!

The echelons of sporting history now has another chapter to be written into its annuls. Liverpool's second half comeback in Istanbul in the champions league final, Botham's ashes heroics in '81 and now the 'miracle of Medinah'.

Midway through Saturday afternoon even the most Merkel loving EU supporter couldn't envisage even a close run finish let alone the type of miraculous turn around which eventuated. And who could blame us for fearing the US hot dog slapping to continue into Sunday and perhaps inflict the heaviest recorded Ryder Cup defeat.

But that's just not how this summer has been, particularly for us in the Home nations of which greatness on the sporting battlefield is almost expected, unless you follow football that is, or sometimes cricket?

So as per usual millions of us were glued to our TV and computer screens, ears pinned the dulcet radio tones occasionally punctuated by roars, groans and boos from the present galleries. Hours of pacing, nail-biting and fist pumping that shredded every nerve and led us from not a prayer to just perhaps all the way to unbridled delight.

'Who needs invisible chairs...we've just won the Ryder Cup'

According to G-Mac (and no that's not an X factor group) Ole' gave his troops the Fergie hairdryer treatment in the team debriefing on Saturday afternoon. Given what followed on Sunday it seemed like Ole' had opted for the flame thrower instead and with the spirit of Seve galvanised the Europeans better than any austerity measures ever could.

What is it about the Ryder cup that turns what is typically very dull and uninspiring to the greatest game on the planet? Easy...flogging the arrogant yanks at the game they not only believe they're better at but also which they think they invented!

Just as in life we unfortunately rely on the good old US of A for many things; oil, cholesterol and most important of all competition. Pity they play a lot of rubbish nationalistic sports that nobody else gives a 'Mickleson' about which allows they to excel against all odds-on.

But it's more than just sporting contest, I think we just don't like 'em all that much? Their brash, arrogant, noisy, often obese and infinitely annoying...far too much like us Europeans really!

'And you wonder why we like beating you so much'

All the 'get in the hole' shouts, whooping and hollering don't earn you many fans of a gentleman's game built on tradition and respect and makes it all the more pleasant when you get your gobs shut by a Justin Rose 30 footer or a Poulter birdie run.

So where did it all go wrong for the mighty team from the States?

Unassailable lead, Europe's top players crumbling and putts dropping like glazed doughnuts in mugs of coffee. Aside from the determination of the Europeans we've already noted we must look at the other side if the coin.

Were they too cocky? Or was it simply the right application of pressure onto a group of men to whom are perhaps used to winning individually and basking in personal limelight  but not familiar with the ethos of teamwork. It is no surprise then that 7 of the past 9 Ryder cups have belonged to the continent after years of stateside dominance.

Nope! Europe were just too bloody good when it came to the Mitty gritty. Even our sleepy youngster managed to roll himself out of bed in time to roll up with no warm up and still win a point.

And as our clutch putts seeked out every cup every swing of an American club shanked, pulled and lipped itself every which way but where it was intended...bloody marvellous wasn't it!

'Argh...what the Furyk!'

Surely their cannot be more sporting drama left in this stellar year? Where will the next sporting surprise come from?

Fleetwood Town to win the FA Cup! You just don't know anymore, anything seems possible after Medinah.

'Get in the hole' sportsfans!

Post-olympic stress disorder!

Greetings Armchair sports fans!

The absence of London 2012 has left many of us with a sporting vacuum that is near impossible to replace.

We all knew that it'd come to an end however much we wished it could just go on forever. But here we find ourselves over two weeks since the flame was extinguished struggling to find our place in the sporting world.

If you are starting to feel the same way as me then you could be suffering from POSD; post-Olympic stress disorder. And there are some tell-tell signs.

Do you find yourself inadvertently doing the mo-bot at the most inappropriate times? Growing your side-burns long? Wondering what Boris Johnson is doing day to day? Or perhaps you just miss the mannish looks of Claire Balding (probably not the last one?).

'Fancy a skinny dip?'

But don't fret as luckily we have the perfect anti-dote.

Should you be suffering POSD symptoms then don't consult your physician, take multiple liberal doses of the Premier league to cure all your ailments!

Funny how it takes an event such as London 2012 to distract us from the new football season, something we are usually counting down to from the end of May or whenever England are knocked our from bi-annual international tournaments.

We even had the pleasure of a 3 week European championship to tide us through the summer this time and yet still the new season and all it entails hasn't captivated us like so many before.

Perhaps its due to the phenomenal end from the last one, maybe it just cannot get better than what has gone before?

Alas just like and old flame that drifts back into your life almost unannounced - so to can our love of football be instantly rekindled. The first blow of the whistle, a swerving 30-yarder, the clumsy late challenge, a goalkeeping howler and my personal fave a bit of side-line managerial red mist!

'The Premiership is back you blind muppet!'

If you haven't yet caught the fever of this current football season its probably stands to reason that you're either anti-football or possibly a Villa fan? Or even more likely both as the current Aston Villa squad stands.

Of all the managers on the merry-go-round this summer Paul Lambert seemingly got off at the wrong time or perhaps got so dizzy he lost his bearings? Even a fit Darren Bent can't tuck them away if the rest of the team can't get the ball up to him?

Another manager leaving a fluid, organised and polished team to greener (perhaps) pasture is Brendan Rodgers. Naturally the lure of the Kop makes a bit more sense this time but having seen his old mob win the first 2, score 8 and concede 0 and look downright Barcelona-esq in the process he to might be thinking he's got the rough end of the stick?

Let's all cool our collective heels, its still early doors but if I were Lambert or Hughes at the moment I'd be getting a little nervous already.

Moving on from managers...but still on the subject of moving - what of the personnel changes within the league. Van Persie, Sigurdsson, Rodwell, Podolski? Forget all of them for the moment as within the space of 3 games Eden Hazard has shown why he was coveted by so many.

All the sceptics wheeled out the same arguements before the season began; the French league isn't as strong, he's not big enough for the Premiership, tricky quick footed players get found out soon enough...humble pie the lot of you!

If the bloke can get El Nino scoring goals (albeit offside ones) then surely he's got to have some future.

'This league is easy Nando - don't see what all the fuss is?'

Di Matteo must be pinching himself before he goes to sleep at night. FA Cup and Champions League winners after only months in charge, top of the league, a squad full of stars and possibly a mickey-mouse European Super Cup to come?

We'll no doubt take a little look at the Paralympics in our own backyard but football will be tough to knock off the back pages, unless any more of the Royal family decide to get their kit off and jump in the pool. And let's face it...if it's anyone other that Kate or Pippa then I'd still rather watch the footy!

Goodnight sports fans!

  

London's legacy

Greetings Armchair sportsfans!

If you're like me at all you've probably hardly left the now flattened cushions of your couch for the past 16 days!

From all the pomp and ceremony of the opening to the celebrated Britain of its close, London 2012 has left us feeling all rightly chuffed about ourselves. Only England winning a world cup (which'll never happen) I cannot see anything on the sporting or cultural landscape even close to eclipsing it.

Not even deliberately not-trying shuttle cocks, masculine shot putting drug cheats or official moaning Italians couldn't ruin these great games.

Naturally it helps when the hosts are racking up the podium apperances along the way and Team GB surpassed perhaps even their own expectations and most definately ours. Plus it helps when the old enemies are languishing below; the French, Germans and yes for me with a tinge of gritted teeth - the Aussies!

Let's face it there's so many great memories of sucess and sadness from not just Team GB but all competing nations that its almost impossible to focus on individual greatness...but this is the Olympics and despite the ethos of Dr. Rogge et al and their spirit of the games diatribe - it is after all a competition.

In the wake of these games, only a day old now mind you, who can honestly reflect on the triumph of those not on the top step? So let's celebrate the celebrated.

For mine only two athletes personfied the true essence of what makes us all feel special about the Olympics and both did it in their very own different and opposing ways. Usain Bolt and Mo Farah became the kings of these games, one by simply destroying all those around him the other by connecting us all with humilty of life and sacrifice.

The Mo-bolt?

Usain Bolt can annoy many with his antics and prize fighter showboating but when you can do what he's done then he can probably get away with it...living legend might be a tad strong a label given who's gone before him or indeed whom may follow but for 10 or 20 seconds (depending on which event) there's no-one who lights up a track in the same way.

Mo Farah, what a guy! A quiet, humble and unasuming family man from a war-torn, impoverish background and now double Olympic champion. Not only did he give us two amazing performances of determination but also the best celebration of the games - the mo-bot was being copied everywhere, even performers and athletes at he closing ceremony. Even better than that shirt ripping, hurdling German tank after he won the discus.

Sure Phelps became the greatest ever, Hoy the greatest Britain, Ainsle the greatest sailor but much of their efforts came from previous games. Without wanting the gloss over those feats in anyway at all it was perhaps the theme of London 2012 'inspire a generation' shows exactly how those efforts are already taking shape across the Olympic family.

Missy Franklin, Katie Ledecky, Laura Trott, Ye Shiwen, Ruta Meilutyte are all names we'll be talking about in future Olympic parlance as perhaps the greatest of their time. Each of them already champions and nearly all of them already more than once in their first of many games.

Another young athlete stole British hearts four years ago in Beijing as a wee-man in tight little speedos took to the 10 metre platform. This time around he did it again as a slightly older wee-man in tight little speedos. You can't help but love the lad, with his back-pack over his shoulder almost as the apprehensive first few steps of the new school year.

To his credit he showed how much growing up such young shoulders must do when carrying the hopes and dreams of an entire nation. Although he didn't win the big one (this time) I can't recall seeing a more excited reaction to bronze, from Tom, the crowd and his team - epitomised in the joyous poolside celebration.

A teenage boys dream come true...and he won bronze too!

Clearly Great Britain had a stormer, as is typical for any host nation. But let's not forget about those who made such an event possible. No-one really enjoys the stuffiness of beuracracy and political beguiling which occurs to curry favour within the IOC. But at worst its a necessary evil that bores wonderful greatness.

In fact without the likes of Coe, Beckham, Wales' and lets face it Boris himself we wouldn't be gushing over how bloody good and perfect we've been. Plus we all need a buffon to make us all look a little less serious and uptight about everything - for that Boris is the perfect foil.

In Beijing he resembled a stunned sheep fluttering the giant flag inside the Birds Nest. During these games he's look confused from the stands, mumbled non-sensically about events, danced like you Dad at a wedding during the opening ceremony and my personal favourite been stuck hanging from a zip line.

'Errr, ummm, ba-ba...is this an Olympic event?'

Having been in the priveledged position of being so close to two different Olympics (Sydney 2000 being the other) I have no doubt what it means to those hosting, let alone the ones competing. The games bring us together, make us happier and push all our darker thoughts and worries to the periphery. And that's what makes it so special, what makes it the greatest event on earth.

So the curtain closes on London 2012 and eyes turn to Rio on four years time. Will they be able to replicate what has gone before us this past fortnight? Who cares! But no doubt we'll enjoy every moment of watching them try!

Goodbys London, goodbye sportsfans!

Bikes, beards and blunders!

Greetings armchair sportsfans!

In and around all the hoop-la which is London 2012 its easy to gloss over everyday feats of sporting grandure and failures.

We are only a week away from the biggest sporting show on earth and potentially a catastrophic embarresment for all those involved which would be a typically English thing to do and thus would be hailed as the greatest games ever.

But we'll have to put our (my) preconceptions on the medal shelf for just a little while and cross pur fingers Boris doesn't look too stupid, Phillip doesn't offend anyone and cor' blimey Team GB get some of those shiny round things!

One man that must be a dead cert for a gold is that Victorian era side-burn afficiando Bradley Wiggins. Seeing as yellow is close enough to gold already he'd probably win it with the bloomin' medal hanging off his handle bars whilst riding side-saddle on a bmx.

'How can you not love a bloke sporting these mutton-chops'

To me all cyclists are freaks, not in a horrible way...more in a 'you silly mad bastard, why would you do that to yourself day after day?' type of freak. The eveidence is all there, just look at those mental weekend cycling groups or indeed the suicidal couriers chancing death each day in the workplace.

Sportingwise I admire them for doing such a crazy event, not just for the physical side of it but also for the fact that for 90% of the time its as boring as F1.

Let's face it..nowt happens except for the odd vertical tussle up a pretty mountain or a race against the clock in a funny looking helmet. And just like those quick F1 things you know that the massses watching on the box are willing for a crash of hilarious magnitude.

Great Britain can not only hang their collective hats on Wiggo but also in the knowledge that the nation is surely destined for a glut of golds from all those on London on two wheels.

One man not reaching the sporting echelons on Sunday was Australia's own Murray...Adam Scott. Blessed with talent us weekend hackers could only dream off and coverted with the same mental fragility that us mere mortals face everytime we address the ball.

Before the final round at Royal Lytham & St. Annes Scott was speaking to the Beeb about his heroes and how he wished to emulate his fellow coutryman in Open championships past. Unfortunately he emulated (not quite as badly) Norman's famous Masters collapse as if he meant every poor swing and lipped putt.

'Maybe I should grow mop of blonde hair?'

Like Murray you do feel for him and you begin to wonder if that magic moment will ever come to pass, talented yes...a winner...not yet? Scott's faux pars (sorry for that pun) unravelled quicker than Tevez's caddying career. The sheepish look of winner Els' face tells you all you need to know about the Open which was lost more than won.

It's hard enough not too look smug at that moment in time and even harder when you look like the Big Easy, with big bobbly head then its even more difficult to hide it. Scott was gracious in defeat as always...at least he didn't cry like a baby!

Ernie wasn't the only South African enjoying himself in the English sunday sunshine. Pretty much the entire team was dining out on English bowling at the Oval, none more so than Hashim Amla. He isn't the most stereotypical looking South African or indeed cricketer going around.

Then again we won't begrudge cricket player pinching given England themselves rely on a few deserters to fill out their xi these days. So we can doff our caps to Hashim for his chanceless innings of touch and grace and be thankful that everytime we get to see him make another ton we'll be treated to his fabulous barnet.

Ok...so the barnet is on his face and it all looks a little backwards. Its a though his face is like a magic eye picture and if you stare long enough into his beard you'll see a sailboat?

'I've seen it and I want to see it again'

Nobody loves seeing the poms getting a spanking on the cricket field and I get the feeling Mr. Amla does too.

So with baited breath and much finger crossing we await the grand opening on Friday and hope for the love of all that it doesn't make us look like bunch of knobs!

Goodnight sportsfans!

The Crying Game

Greetings armchair sportsfans!

Poor old Andy Murray, today even ardent BNP supporters were lamenting over his distrught face all over the papers.

Until now he's never been the most popular of sporting characters knocking around but it's amazing what being a perenial loser can do for you. Just ask Henman or that other tall lanky fella who also commentates for the Beeb.

Let's not be too harsh on the lad, after all it ain't his fault that he's very good at something at the same time a few others are better and one in particular is simply out of this world!

We all hoped that this year would be his year, his best chance at winning the big one but someone forgot to tell Roger that part of the script. Andy has the all-round game, the grit and plucky determination but yet when the big moments arrive he's still as flaky as an Arbroath smoky!

Don't worry mate there's always next year???

There's no shame in losing to Federer, surely the greatest player to ever grace the court. And you can't be angry at him for being that good even if he does play with that irritating easy nature that gets under your skin, like Spanish football. He's also a seemingly nice bloke, wife and kids, good looks...what a shite!

He even had the audacity to assure Murray that one grand slam will be his...that's providing neither he nor Nadal or Djokovich decide they'd like a few more shiny things above their fireplace. No doubt Murray will believe it, he has no choice about that. However I'm beginning to feel that 'our Andy' (that's his name now by the way) might just end up trawling the same route to punditry that's befallen those before him.

Then again I can't see that happening either as Murray hasn't shown us any personality to suggest putting his grumpy mug of the telly would be about as clever as his drop shot. But it ain't all bad, eh? He'll earn a few quid knocking about the circuit for the next decade and after that coaching the next generation of Wimbledon blubbers.

Sure he ain't won squat but he's young, a decent player to be fair, the nation off his back and a fit young thing on his arm. Not that much to cry about really.

Oh no...its contagious!

Still I'd rather watch Murray struggle around the court all over again than watch Buffalo Williams do anything on or off the court and that goes for her sister Horse Williams too.

Ok they redefined and dominated the women's game through strength and athleticism and changed tennis fashion by destroying that too. You could throw a crochet blanket over a cow and it'd look the same and some of the awful tripe they're flashed at SW19.

Maybe bad dress sense is a champion type thing, RF hasn't got his clothing line moving off the shelves as silkily as he moves around the baseline. 

The women's game is not that interesting, even female tennis players and fans prefer to watch the men's game and not for the same reason we blokes don't mind two grunting russian dolls slugging it out in skimpy white dresses and pink knickers.

'Game, set and match Mr. Ed and Daisy'

The true heroes at Wimbledon over the past fortnight beside the Fed Express was that fella who beat Nadal (forgot his name already..so memorable) and that other Murray...Marray (sorry) and Neilsen. These two chaps had only played three tournaments together, never earned a penny and barely had enough kit to last into the second week.

And yet they overcame all this, beat the best doubles players going around and still their feats are washed away by the Scotsmans tears...we do love a loser after all.

Toodle-pip sportsfans!

Death, taxes and losing shoot-outs!

Greetings armchair sportsfans!

Well its been over a month since the last posting but you'll have to forgive my extended break for it has been a deliberate measure on my part not to pass comment too soon.

And for that I'm truly glad!

Let's talk Euros and England. Many a pudit, sports reporter, pub football expect et al have pronounced the new era of English football. Built on a balance of youth and experience and a wise old English speaking head who's managed around the globe. A grand new era...same end product.

England bowing out on penalties is as certain as death and taxes and most of us would rather take those two options over watching a turgid lot of over paid pillars hoofing the ball upfield and shuffiling back into a 9-1 formation.

All the defensive solidarity, work ethic and organisation might win you the hearts of the neutrals and some football romatics it gets you sweet fanny adams when it comes to football matches. There's no doubting the importance of such qualities but if you can't get hold of that round thing then you've got little hope of it ending up in the back of net.

Hodgson clearly set-up to navigate the group, which he did. Sure it wasn't pretty but we hoped and got mildy excited that it might be cagey tactics by the wiley old owl, which we did. When it came down to a few players 12 yards away from goal and a semi-final...did they falter...of course they did!

'Well lads did you really expect anything different?'

You can't blame Hodgson for the performances, he probably got the best out of what he had, unfortunately what he had wasn't very good. England strang about as many passes together for the whole tournament as they did sentences in post-game interviews and about as incisive and creative too. Perhaps they figured the ball would explode if they held onto for more than a split second and hence lumping it long and shooting nowhere near the target was a safety measure?

Aside from every game Spain plays and Greece v Germany the other night I can't recall seeing a more one-sided match this tournament and against an Italian team whom nobody thought were up to much before it all kicked off. Let's face it, surely they're too busy worrying about how to fix matches for next seasons Scudetti to actually put out a side that can defend, pass and create all at the same time?

Even crazy Mario put in a decent shift and if not for an excellent and sometimes fortunate rearguard action from Hart & Co. your local funeral directors) then we could've seen a much heftier defeat, which was probably deserved.

No doubt Ashley will be low of the list of baby names (both boys and girls) for the remainder of the year and to be fair its probably not that high of the list for modern day parents. Unless of course you spell it Aishlay or with a couple of hyphen thrown into the mix. Everyone loves a scapegoat and its safe to say it could've been Walcott or Carroll ears burning this morning instead...somebody had to miss.

 
'It's all your fault, we'd of won the lot if it weren't for you...er...probably not'

So that's the lot for another major tournament and another 2 years for rebuilding or moving backwards, either way we'll all be full of hope after the first game...its what we do best, shame we can't be as good at footy?

England's penality shoot-out exit was inevitable but even they weren't as short odds as the four-legged superstar that graced Royal Ascot on Saturday. Black Caviar flew across the globe to entrall the crowds and smite all before her as she'd done 21 out of her previous 21 starts and truly put the stuffing up the toffs in top hats and tails.

As an both an anti-podean and a racing fan I can understand people gathering in the city centre to watch the race at 1:30am in winter to watch such an event. Australia will salute a sporting great from a different species without thinking twice about it, then again the English voted a dog the best talent in the country so I guess that makes it even.

Hopefully nobody was stupid enough to put their dollars or sterling at odds of 1-6 and if they did part with their hard earned they'd of got a fright watching the surest of sure things nearly bottle it. You can't help but thinking every Brit in the grandstand and on the grass was hoping she'd get the smug grin wiped off her face as if it were the Ashes but with horses?

Yes she won...just! Had Black Caviar tasted her first defeat we would've not blamed the beast but the numpty at helm. Similar to the two Ashleys', Saturdays racing pillock was almost Mr Luke Nolan who decided the he'd done enough work for the day and tucked his whip into his tiny trousers.

The trainer slated him anyway, along with pundits alike...imagine what'd happened of he'd lost? Maybe he be saluted to showing great spirit and teamwork, just like England!

'One is not too amused with your horsemanship'

That's about that then; Wimbledon time now and another chance to support average British sportsmen and women.

Anyone else see a pattern forming here?

Ta-da Sportsfans!

Di Matteo is the special one...mark 3???

Greetings armchair sportsfans!


Well what can we say? After years of trying and billions of pounds later Rom has finally reached his holy grail with a flourishing and entertaining side too...wait...not quite.

'But we deserved it!' they cry, 'this was our destiny'. Bollocks! Yes football is a team game and protecting your end is just as important and laying siege to the mob at the opposite end. For this you cannot deny Chelsea's tenacity and drog-eness, but by heck it was dull!

UEFA are probably happy that it ended in a shoot-out as it meant we actually had more than a handful of shots on target and that most will not remember the turgid 80 odd minutes which preceded it. Any self-righteous football follower knows that if it weren't for a very un-German-esq performance from Bayern we'd all be slating Chelsea as lumbering route one no-hopers!

Bayern domintated the entire match in all departments; yet they were wasteful in front of goal, missed penalties, didn't defend a near-post corner with only minutes left and losing a shout-out! Its just not German like, in fact its down right English of them!

'Hide me! They'll take away my German passport for missing that pen!'

Of course all this was not just a path of destiny for the Blues, it was a mastermind of managment by the 3rd re-incarnation of the special one. Arise Sir Roberto! He's not the special one...he's a very lucky boy! And now he's the greatest manager that lived not just to win the European Cup so quickly but to do so with a squad that back in March would be lucky to get close to the cups in the training ground cafeteria!

Had they lost he'd probably of become another Avram Grant and end up in Portsmouth awaitng the news they'd been docked more points for not paying anybody who works for them! Or he could turn into a Hiddink and travel the globe earning shed loads of foreign tax cash with avergage teams built on oil soaked money...sound familiar RDM?

Will Roman offer him the job? Would he even take it? Now that he's found his promise land ..what next?  He'll want to win the league, defend the cup and do it all playing an entertaining brand of footy which I fear neither squad or manager is up to.

In that case it might be a good time to cut and run? Drogba has the right idea on this one; leave a hero, head held high and with your wallet open.

A wave goodbye or I'll take £5 mil a year thanks!

So does this mean that a defensive, uncreative, long ball style can conquer Europe? If so then maybe there's hope for Roy this summer...er have you seen the squad!

Ok so it was all fairly predictable, yes I got a few wrong on my end but lack of enterprise is perhaps worse than a lack of surprises. The two best defences of the premier league belonged to City and United and yet Rio didn't get a gig (not a bad idea to be fair) and I wonder if Lescott will be sitting on the bench waiting for Terry to slip up...literally!

The middle is pretty much the same as we'd expect from what's on offer with the exception that Lennon is probably just unlucky that he's just a quick as a few others that perhaps can find the net or put in a decent ball, then again they picked Walcott?

Up front is where the issues are obvious, with Rooney out for the first 2 options were thin on the ground. Carroll probably deserves a crack at it, Welbeck has earned the right ahead of Sturridge, no idea what Defoe has done except score on the last game of the season...does Roy have a very short memory?

Surely the biggest injustice is poor old Micah Ricards? What does that man have to do to get another cap? Did he mysteriously slag off the FA on twitter before going radio silent or perhaps the powers that be know something we don't?

If the shirt fits then bloody well give it him!

Yes Kyle Walker would've got the nod if fit and Phil Jones is versatile if not a little overrated too. But Micah must be watching a tape of Liverpool's post-christmas matches and thinking he needs to both defend, bomb on, set up goals, be a menace at set pieces, keep goal and score bucket loads to even be considered!

Be just about right now that Glen Johnson has a blinding tournament and England do exceptionally well at the Euros...yeah and Chelsea will become the next Barcelona!

Goodnight sportsfans!