Slipperduke
The Camden Cad
Monday morning was like a scene from one of those post-apocalyptic movies that usually star Mel Gibson. The old order has been shattered, the new dawn has arrived and the scattered survivors crawl from their bolt-holes to blink in confusion at the much reduced skyline and wonder if things will ever be the same again.
Manchester United? Their towering magnificence reduced to nothing more than scorched rubble. Chelsea? So much splendour, so much opulence and now, just an ugly smear across the floor. Middlesbrough? Erm….dunno…didn’t it always look like that?
Portsmouth, who haven’t been this far since Darren Anderton was still learning to shave, are now stuck with the unlikely mantle of favourites, purely on the basis that they are the only top flight club left standing in the last four. This hasn’t happened in a hundred years, a wonderfully round number which rather adds to the whole fairytale vibe. There have been a few suggestions that this is now the worst FA Cup ever, but I couldn’t disagree more. The sight of so many big, rich football clubs falling heavily on their cash-flabby bottoms is the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in years. I just wish that Michel Platini had got his own way and that there was a Champions League place up for grabs as well.
No-one can really complain. Last year we had a showpiece Final between the League Champions and their closest rivals and look what happened. It was more boring than a Best Of Bolton DVD. Why not embrace the fact that someone else is getting a turn in the limelight? In the old days, by which I mean the 1980s, this used to happen all the time. There was almost always an unfashionable team at Wembley. Brighton, Watford, Coventry and Wimbledon all entered the coliseum, and two of them left with the trophy and the knowledge that they had created another FA Cup legend.
Football’s seen a lot of changes since those days and they haven’t always been improvements. The money-trough of the Champions League means that the elite clubs get richer and more dominant every year. It’s harder than ever to pick up silverware and practically impossible to break into the top four. You have to go all the way back to 1995 to find a victorious underdog and that was Everton, who aren’t exactly a lower-league minnow.
Outside of the Big Four’s private party, are 88 other football teams doomed to shiver on the doorstep all night. Ok, so Tottenham and Middlesbrough managed to gatecrash and snaffle a League Cup, but that’s just a momentary lapse on the part of the bouncers. The vast majority of the football-attending public don’t support a big team. They plod along every other week, paying their money, shouting themselves hoarse and all in the knowledge that they won’t be winning anything of note. Even if the smaller clubs do take a gamble on a Carlos Tevez, or unearth a Wayne Rooney, or mould a Michael Carrick, it’s only a matter of time before the big clubs come and lure them away. They’re even ******* up untested youngsters from the lower leagues like Jack Hobbs and Danny Philliskirk, so what chance has anyone got to improve?
I am still utterly confused by this weekend. I can’t fathom how Portsmouth managed to beat Manchester United and, more incredibly, how Barnsley managed to outplay Chelsea. Clearly, the Gods of Football are in a playful mood. There is no glamour tie in the FA Cup Semi-Finals because there is no glamour team left in the FA Cup, but you can bet that the passionate, long-suffering supporters of Portsmouth, Cardiff, West Bromwich Albion and Barnsley are in dreamland this morning.
And if you thought Tottenham were loud against Chelsea, just wait until the two lucky finalists turn up at Wembley in May. You’ll see 90,000 fans having the time of their lives, living for the moment and making so much noise that you’ll probably be able to hear it from the other side of the world. Worst FA Cup ever? Quite the contrary.
Manchester United? Their towering magnificence reduced to nothing more than scorched rubble. Chelsea? So much splendour, so much opulence and now, just an ugly smear across the floor. Middlesbrough? Erm….dunno…didn’t it always look like that?
Portsmouth, who haven’t been this far since Darren Anderton was still learning to shave, are now stuck with the unlikely mantle of favourites, purely on the basis that they are the only top flight club left standing in the last four. This hasn’t happened in a hundred years, a wonderfully round number which rather adds to the whole fairytale vibe. There have been a few suggestions that this is now the worst FA Cup ever, but I couldn’t disagree more. The sight of so many big, rich football clubs falling heavily on their cash-flabby bottoms is the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in years. I just wish that Michel Platini had got his own way and that there was a Champions League place up for grabs as well.
No-one can really complain. Last year we had a showpiece Final between the League Champions and their closest rivals and look what happened. It was more boring than a Best Of Bolton DVD. Why not embrace the fact that someone else is getting a turn in the limelight? In the old days, by which I mean the 1980s, this used to happen all the time. There was almost always an unfashionable team at Wembley. Brighton, Watford, Coventry and Wimbledon all entered the coliseum, and two of them left with the trophy and the knowledge that they had created another FA Cup legend.
Football’s seen a lot of changes since those days and they haven’t always been improvements. The money-trough of the Champions League means that the elite clubs get richer and more dominant every year. It’s harder than ever to pick up silverware and practically impossible to break into the top four. You have to go all the way back to 1995 to find a victorious underdog and that was Everton, who aren’t exactly a lower-league minnow.
Outside of the Big Four’s private party, are 88 other football teams doomed to shiver on the doorstep all night. Ok, so Tottenham and Middlesbrough managed to gatecrash and snaffle a League Cup, but that’s just a momentary lapse on the part of the bouncers. The vast majority of the football-attending public don’t support a big team. They plod along every other week, paying their money, shouting themselves hoarse and all in the knowledge that they won’t be winning anything of note. Even if the smaller clubs do take a gamble on a Carlos Tevez, or unearth a Wayne Rooney, or mould a Michael Carrick, it’s only a matter of time before the big clubs come and lure them away. They’re even ******* up untested youngsters from the lower leagues like Jack Hobbs and Danny Philliskirk, so what chance has anyone got to improve?
I am still utterly confused by this weekend. I can’t fathom how Portsmouth managed to beat Manchester United and, more incredibly, how Barnsley managed to outplay Chelsea. Clearly, the Gods of Football are in a playful mood. There is no glamour tie in the FA Cup Semi-Finals because there is no glamour team left in the FA Cup, but you can bet that the passionate, long-suffering supporters of Portsmouth, Cardiff, West Bromwich Albion and Barnsley are in dreamland this morning.
And if you thought Tottenham were loud against Chelsea, just wait until the two lucky finalists turn up at Wembley in May. You’ll see 90,000 fans having the time of their lives, living for the moment and making so much noise that you’ll probably be able to hear it from the other side of the world. Worst FA Cup ever? Quite the contrary.
