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| duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh...... |
This could be hard as I've rarely played up front and I'd never like to claim expertise I didn't possess. However, I've got one defining experience to draw upon. The time I played up front for England (against Maradona) and won the game.
One of the highlights of my school years (as I think I've previously mentioned, I attended the same shoddy comprehensive school in the suburbs of Wigan as future Blackpool loan star Neil Whitworth) was a trip to France, in which we spent a frankly astonishing (viewed through the lens of modern risk assessment) amount of unsupervised time generally roaming around a French village from our youth hostel-esque base. In said village was a football pitch and naturally, that's where we headed, to play football and drink incredibly exotic little bottles of french lager procurred by one of our number who had got a bit of bumfluff.
Some local lads appeared one evening, replete with a little monkey bike and after riding around us for a bit and failing to unsettle us (we were from Wigan, little more than a nuclear attack will alarm a Wiganer) they sauntered accross and despite the language barrier (I don't know why were in France, because we'd learnt no meaningful French) we established we would play a game, each representing our respective countries.
The usual dynamic of team selection was thrown up in the air, by the fact that a) we were missing some of our year group who hadn't come on the trip and b) some of the coolest ladz were off necking with the coolest girlz, the simmering passions fueled by about 4 bottles of 3% lager each. Hence I ended up at the top of the pitch for once.
We won the game 4-2 (just like the other World Cup final) and I scored twice. I can still remember one was a neat, placed finish into the bottom corner after running onto a through ball and the other was a scruffy bundled effort. I can remember little else about the trip. So much for opening young minds to exotic cultures eh? They took us to another country and all I can recall is doing the exact same thing we did on the rec every night back home...
We won the game 4-2 (just like the other World Cup final) and I scored twice. I can still remember one was a neat, placed finish into the bottom corner after running onto a through ball and the other was a scruffy bundled effort. I can remember little else about the trip. So much for opening young minds to exotic cultures eh? They took us to another country and all I can recall is doing the exact same thing we did on the rec every night back home...
One other detail I recall came part way through the game when a younger kid turned up and shouted to the lads playing - they gesticulated to us to get another player on because they wanted this lad to play. He was tiny in comparison to both them and us and our faces were collectively incredulous - I remember gesturing to the lad I was near to indicate 'short/tiny!' and him turning and in a thick French accent saying 'Maradona!'
Fuck me, that kid was good. He was the best player on the pitch by an absolute mile and we had a lad who'd played for Man Utd youth. I've never seen a kid so talented. Like Joe Cole in that advert that Joe Cole is famous for but more of a grubby looking French kid than Joe Cole. I often wonder if he went on the be a player, he was that good. My mate had trials for Wigan and Man City and Bolton offered him youth terms but this lad was twice the player and about 5 years younger.
Some things you'll never know...
With my credentials firmly established, lets do this! Strikers, here goes.
Fuck me, that kid was good. He was the best player on the pitch by an absolute mile and we had a lad who'd played for Man Utd youth. I've never seen a kid so talented. Like Joe Cole in that advert that Joe Cole is famous for but more of a grubby looking French kid than Joe Cole. I often wonder if he went on the be a player, he was that good. My mate had trials for Wigan and Man City and Bolton offered him youth terms but this lad was twice the player and about 5 years younger.
Some things you'll never know...
With my credentials firmly established, lets do this! Strikers, here goes.
Armand Gnanduillet
What can I say about the big man that does him justice? He's my favourite player in years and years. Partly because I love it when a player who gets stick comes good and mostly because he's invented his own way of playing that is individual and eccentric. Languid and loping around one minute, looking comically disinterested and then suddenly a beast, out of nowhere, pouncing and deadly. He's the most efficient footballer ever. Yes, the traditionalists and unimaginative would like him to jump for pointless headers, so they feel they are getting there money's worth, but Armand works on a different level. Misunderstood genius. Why battle for what you can't win? Armand is good at being Armand and that's enough for me.
I imagine he's a nightmare to play against. You cant work out if he's any good, let alone what he's going to do and when you think you've got him sussed, he'll pull out some mad trick you weren't expecting, like completely ignoring two crosses, but absolutely nailing the third, or doing a step over in slow motion that looks like it'll never work, but suddenly he's going past you, despite it seeming like a physical impossiblity.
Who couldn't love his facial expressions and gesticulations of anguish or astonishment when something doesn't go right? It was worth travelling to Rochdale just to watch Armand's solo mime show of disbelief when the referee stopped the game, but he'd played on. It last for about a minute (I'm not exagerating here) and was executed with a precision that would have the most dedicated practitioner of physical theatre expressing their wonder at his range.
He's also fucking ace. He's a better player than half the crowd give him credit for and he deserves the adulation that the North give him. Yes, he picks his battles, but he never gives up. He moves all the time in a static team and even on a bad day is worth his place for the disruption up front and the presence at the back. His touch and brain are much better than his gait and stature suggest and he's a canny player if you put into his chest. Many say Critchley won't fancy him. I'd suggest if Critchley is the man we hope he is, he'll recognise that variety is the spice of a decent league one team and in the unlikely event that the big man says 'Neil, I 'ave decided to zign zis 'ow do you say, contract' then no matter how many battery farmed well groomed athletic young men from the Sky Sports clubs he can get his hands on, there's no one quite like Armand.
I imagine he's a nightmare to play against. You cant work out if he's any good, let alone what he's going to do and when you think you've got him sussed, he'll pull out some mad trick you weren't expecting, like completely ignoring two crosses, but absolutely nailing the third, or doing a step over in slow motion that looks like it'll never work, but suddenly he's going past you, despite it seeming like a physical impossiblity.
Who couldn't love his facial expressions and gesticulations of anguish or astonishment when something doesn't go right? It was worth travelling to Rochdale just to watch Armand's solo mime show of disbelief when the referee stopped the game, but he'd played on. It last for about a minute (I'm not exagerating here) and was executed with a precision that would have the most dedicated practitioner of physical theatre expressing their wonder at his range.
He's also fucking ace. He's a better player than half the crowd give him credit for and he deserves the adulation that the North give him. Yes, he picks his battles, but he never gives up. He moves all the time in a static team and even on a bad day is worth his place for the disruption up front and the presence at the back. His touch and brain are much better than his gait and stature suggest and he's a canny player if you put into his chest. Many say Critchley won't fancy him. I'd suggest if Critchley is the man we hope he is, he'll recognise that variety is the spice of a decent league one team and in the unlikely event that the big man says 'Neil, I 'ave decided to zign zis 'ow do you say, contract' then no matter how many battery farmed well groomed athletic young men from the Sky Sports clubs he can get his hands on, there's no one quite like Armand.
Joe Nuttall.
Nuttall big money signings work out (see what I did there) and poor ol' Joe is one who definitely hasn't. I've spent a year really, really hoping that his physicality (fuck me, the lad looks dynamite) would be matched by the performances it hints at. To be honest, this feels quite cathartic, because I'm going to say what I've seen. He does the right runs, but doesn't seem to judge what to do at the end of them. He's pulled up for fouling or brushed off the ball. There's no in between. It's like he hasn't learned the tricks of the trade. His performance against Rotherham away in particular was hands over the eyes stuff. When through on goal, he looked as fearful as an animal heading to an abatoir. His head looked gone.
I wonder if Nuttall is actually a striker. He seems most comfortable to me in that weird left side role that Emile Heskey played for England in that odd period where Sven kept picking Emile Heskey for no other reason than he wanted someone to play in a weird left sided role that only Emile Heskey could play. See also Danny Welbeck a bit later when he kept getting picked to play the same role but on the right. He's not a bad player, sometimes he does some lovely stuff in build up play, but I'm not sure he's the player we want him to be.
He looks like he doesn't have that desperation to score that marks out a striker. Armand will miss, then miss again, then miss again, but he'll keep going at it and it'll come good eventually. Nuttall's head drops, he looks nervous. Someone once said to me, if you are good at something, never judge yourself by it. Tell yourself it's just a hobby you care about. If you want to be a serious artist, just imagine your painting is as important as say, cooking a nice dinner. No more. Caring too much is the enemy of genuine achievement. That's the genius of Armand and Joe hasn't worked that out. It seems to hurt on a deep level when he gets stuff wrong.
That Bolton goal though. Got to be a candidate for moment of the season.
Ryan Hardie.
His specialism appears to be doing curved runs and not getting that near the ball. He never got much of a chance and Larry binned him off after he missed one chance, which was a bit mystifying because we didn't really have many other options in the cupboard marked 'strikers who are different from Armand.'
Nuttall big money signings work out (see what I did there) and poor ol' Joe is one who definitely hasn't. I've spent a year really, really hoping that his physicality (fuck me, the lad looks dynamite) would be matched by the performances it hints at. To be honest, this feels quite cathartic, because I'm going to say what I've seen. He does the right runs, but doesn't seem to judge what to do at the end of them. He's pulled up for fouling or brushed off the ball. There's no in between. It's like he hasn't learned the tricks of the trade. His performance against Rotherham away in particular was hands over the eyes stuff. When through on goal, he looked as fearful as an animal heading to an abatoir. His head looked gone.
I wonder if Nuttall is actually a striker. He seems most comfortable to me in that weird left side role that Emile Heskey played for England in that odd period where Sven kept picking Emile Heskey for no other reason than he wanted someone to play in a weird left sided role that only Emile Heskey could play. See also Danny Welbeck a bit later when he kept getting picked to play the same role but on the right. He's not a bad player, sometimes he does some lovely stuff in build up play, but I'm not sure he's the player we want him to be.
He looks like he doesn't have that desperation to score that marks out a striker. Armand will miss, then miss again, then miss again, but he'll keep going at it and it'll come good eventually. Nuttall's head drops, he looks nervous. Someone once said to me, if you are good at something, never judge yourself by it. Tell yourself it's just a hobby you care about. If you want to be a serious artist, just imagine your painting is as important as say, cooking a nice dinner. No more. Caring too much is the enemy of genuine achievement. That's the genius of Armand and Joe hasn't worked that out. It seems to hurt on a deep level when he gets stuff wrong.
That Bolton goal though. Got to be a candidate for moment of the season.
Ryan Hardie.
His specialism appears to be doing curved runs and not getting that near the ball. He never got much of a chance and Larry binned him off after he missed one chance, which was a bit mystifying because we didn't really have many other options in the cupboard marked 'strikers who are different from Armand.'
I might sound like I'm doing him down. I'm not, It was quite nice seeing a player moving up front, but he appeared to be doing the sort of movement a totally different team would require. Off he went to Plymouth where he scored a goal every 9 seconds - A record which would suggest he might be worth having around if we can afford the luxury of players next year.
Nathan Delfouenso
If Armand is substance over style then Fonz is the opposite. As gifted a player as almost any in League One he needs to be given a job and to stick with it. He gets shifted about because he's good at football on a technical level, but never seems to quite deliver. We love him, he loves us. He lifts the soul on a dreary day with a shuffle, a burst of pace, a drop of the shoulder and a shimmy and then he pops it over the bar and a bolt of agony passes through his body. How many times has he been there. How many times has he cursed himself for not keeping his head down, for not just putting his laces through it?
I've expended so many words on Fonz this year that I can't say any more. If he can't do it this coming year, in a footballing team, in a division where he's as good as anyone at the basic technique required to play football, then I don't know when he will. I really hope he can.
Gary Madine
If Gary Madine was a vehicle, he'd be a big American Truck. In fact, I can well imagine him as a trucker, sat in a diner eating loads of pancakes and bacon and wearing a 'Make America Great Again' hat, chewing a tooth pick in a vest and check shirt. That's not a value judgement. Writing requires me to soak up the words from the ether and channel them through the keyboard and that's what was in the air.
He's fucking mint at heading and stuff like that and I think he got dogs abuse in some games for playing on one leg but he's a hold up player and we don't have any goalscorers unless Hardie can come good. He's why we won't keep Armand but somehow, I can more readily imagine Armand as a Critchley player than I can Madine, even though Madine is a technically better footballer.
He's fucking mint at heading and stuff like that and I think he got dogs abuse in some games for playing on one leg but he's a hold up player and we don't have any goalscorers unless Hardie can come good. He's why we won't keep Armand but somehow, I can more readily imagine Armand as a Critchley player than I can Madine, even though Madine is a technically better footballer.
He's likely on the sort of wages that will be causing a few flutters at the moment as Simon and Ben go through the balance sheet in a conversation that I imagine goes a bit like this...
"There's good news and there's bad news Simon - the good news is, we sold the last three kids away goalie tops online, so that's £46.50p added to the £18 we got for selling the youtube sponsorship and the £9.32p we found when we had a good rummage around down the back of the seats in the Corner Flag"
"There's good news and there's bad news Simon - the good news is, we sold the last three kids away goalie tops online, so that's £46.50p added to the £18 we got for selling the youtube sponsorship and the £9.32p we found when we had a good rummage around down the back of the seats in the Corner Flag"
"What's the bad news Ben - give it to me straight..."
"Basically everything else"
Adi Yussuf:
I imagine him and Jamie Devitt in a French film about two alienated young men who seek silent solace in each others company. Whilst they have little in common, they bond over their mutual isolation, the fellow leper status. We follow each man alone, through the back streets of Blackpool, their shoulders slumped, trudging, oblivious to the world around them. We watch them together on a bench, no words exchanged, Adi, listlessly chucking bread at the pigeons, Jamie, staring into the middle distance, playing with a hole in his jeans. They sit, under the pier when the tide is out, their backs against the barnacle encrusted victorian metalwork, in the background, children play football, barefoot on the sand, the image blurred but the shouts and screams carrying to the viewers ears on the wind, but Jamie and Adi are numb to their joy. They ride a tram, to nowhere, gazing out the window, but seeing nothing. They sit in a cafe, drinking piss weak tea, an unread newspaper between them. They watch a beggar playing a tuneless song on a whistle. They go their seperate ways, only a look, a slight nod signals their parting and they're filmed in their beds, staring blankly at the ceiling. The day has passed, but nothing has happened.
Film4
1:10 am La vie ne commence jamais (Life never starts.)
A portrait of listless despair in black and white set at the English seaside.
Ewan Bange:
He's big and he probably wonders why he doesn't merit ten minutes here and there if Joe Nuttall keeps getting a go. That's all I can say. Like a few others, I'd like to see him get a shout from time to time.
Tony Weston:
He's apparently potentially ace and will probably be living proof that we can't have nice things because the Premier League clubs are like a bunch of thugs preying like Mafia, on anyone who dares to have something they want. If money was under control in the game, a player like him would stay with us, given as we've got one of the most well regarded youth coaches in the world game and he'll be a hell of a lot nearer the first team than he will at a club with 670 players from all around the world. Also, it was great when they changed the rules to make it so it was above board to poach kids and pay next to nothing for them. Twats.
----
I don't think we've got any players to score goals. With the exeption of Armand none of the above have looked like bagging many and therefore it's sods law that it's Armand who will likely be going and the other lot staying. It's troubling that the weakest area of the side is the one where we've probably got most players per position. Madine is a good player at this level, but he's not got an obvious partner and I also don't know if he fits the athletic game Critchley will probably want to play. It's putting a hell of a lot of faith in Hardie to suggest he'll be the man and Fonz has shown time and again, he's better creating than scoring.
Maybe big Joe will come good.
Which is probably, if you had to give the season a title, an apt phrase to name it with.
Which is probably, if you had to give the season a title, an apt phrase to name it with.
You can read about the rest of the team by clicking the links below:
UTMP
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Armand definitely benefitted from starting every week. But sometimes he has to be in the mood. And you’ve missed how he’s better than some of our defenders when it comes to defending in his own box.
ReplyDeleteNuttall can’t trap a bag of cement. His touch is dreadful.
Madine I had forgotten about. All league one teams need an annoying big lump to wind defenders up.
Hardie was far too lightweight for us. Maybe some time in the gym & a different system will help.
Fonz is ace and we love him. End of.
I protest! "even on a bad day is worth his place for the disruption up front and *the presence at the back.*"
ReplyDeleteI love Fonz, he is ace, I just want him to actually achieve something with all his talent because he's potentially brilliant, but he's 29 and his talent (and effort, it's not lack of effort) is crying out for a season where it all falls into place - I think he's a victim of being moved about, on the right, behind the front two, up front, even in midfield - managers faff about with him all the time.
No one I want to succeed more.