Premiership Material
Spurs drop a bollock at Blackpool, Lampard gives the winner some wellie at Stamford Bridge and Ashley Cole shoots the work experience kid.
Just another week in the English Premier League…
The year is warming up in Britain. Spring is ducking out from behind the barren hedgerows and football fans across the country – and the world – are starting to look on in anticipation of a hot run-in towards Premiership glory.
Lampard’s penalty secured all three points and moved the Chelski back into Champions League qualification territory, one point ahead of their London neighbours at Spurs who failed to put away a plucky Blackpool outfit last week.
While Blackpool sit a couple of points clear of the relegation zone with 10 games to play in the league, Chelsea, despite the win, are still not likely to mount a challenge at the other end of the table, looking less and less likely to reel in table-topping Manchester United after making a poor start to 2011.
The Blues are a lazy 12 points back, and even with one game in hand they need to be practically perfect down the stretch to challenge. And if my word’s not official enough for you, even Carlo Ancellotti, the Blues’ manager thinks his goose is cooked for the year.
Manchester City are static in third spot, leaving Arsenal fans the only ones with solid grounds to believe their Gunners can challenge United for the title.
The Gunners have a game in hand and are just four points back from United as it stands, and if they can keep winning we can all look forward to Arsene Wenger and his antics in the dugout and post-match should anything like a semblance of a hair be put out of place on the head of one of his precious protégés.
Alex Ferguson can be equally petulant (read: ‘bullish’ if you’re a Red Devil fan) and has already shown what a moaning old curmudgeon he is by blaming the referee for his side failing to win at Stamford Bridge. For those in any doubt, this is standard fare for the long-serving Scot.
Wenger will be desperate for silverware this year, but how maddening would it be if the Gunners, having spurned the chance to take at least one shiny cup out of this campaign with a loss to unfancied Birmingham City in the Carling Cup decider, managed to get out of another year without a trophy?
Even more tragic, though, and this is regardless of which club you support, was the stupidity of a former Arsenal starlet, Ashley Cole, and the tale of his hair-triggered airgun.
For those not yet acquainted with the story, Cole had probably spent a particularly busy morning touching up the manuscript for his yet to be released autobiography – ‘Memoirs of a prize tit’ – and arrived at the Chelsea training ground brandishing an air-rifle.
Perhaps he was channelling the late, great Hunter S., but I doubt it.
Perhaps he was trying to look the ‘country gent’, but whether he climbed down from his Range Rover, removed the rifle from a case in the rear and carried it broken across his tweed-lined forearm, doffing his flat-cap to passers-by as he strolled to the change rooms, is unclear.
But surely he wasn’t rollin’ dirty, either. I’m not sure that even ‘Cashley’ could get ‘gangsta’ so terribly wrong, could he?
Still, I shouldn’t be surprised, given the common or garden variety Premiership footballer comes fully equipped with all the tools it takes to make a grandiose fool or public nuisance of himself.
Think of on-field brain explosions and violent outbursts like those suffered by the likes of Gascoigne or Cantona or Barton, driving indiscretions along the lines of a Van der Saar or Pennant or hot and heavy encounters with hookers (e.g. Rooney or Ronaldo) and fights with assorted members of the drunk public (e.g. Gerrard or Bowyer).
These are but a few examples, drawn straight from the top of my head. Doubtless there are dozens of others.
It must be tough, though, to entertain yourself when your major concern in life is arriving on time to train or play and making sure your boots are on the right feet before you start running about.
And with all that money to do whatever you want when you do find yourself at a loose end…. “I know,” says Ashley. “I’ll get my hands on an air rifle, take it to training with me and show it off to my mates.”
It sounds suspiciously like a ‘show and tell’ session for fully-grown idiots when put like that.
What then, does it sound like when I tell you Ashley managed to pop a cap into a sports science intern? Just plain idiotic, maybe?
“What the fuck? You shot me,” screams the intern.
“But I didn’t know it was loaded,” says Ashley.
“Are serious parts of your brain missing, or what?” we all scream back in unison.
We’re not in Plaxico Burress territory just yet, and no doubt the whole incident will be swept under the rug.
The football world will complete another revolution this weekend and we’ll be left scratching our collective head at the next boob that steps out of line, be it with or without a firearm.
Then we’ll stand back and assess the situation for what it really is.
Is it really that bad to take a gun to training? These guys are superstars, after all. And he has apologised, so as long as they get the right result on the pitch, we can forgive them… and so on and so forth.
In this instance, I tend to give Ashley the benefit of the doubt. In all likelihood, he wasn’t even aiming at the intern.
He could just as easily have been trying to shoot that annoying red haired snapper on the other side of the ground.
Can’t blame him there. Bloody troublemakers, those gingers.
