EU Treaty Passes Unnoticed

It may have passed unnoticed by the English media but on October 11th European football's governing body UEFA celebrated a new EU treaty that effectively separates sport from other professions thereby clearing the way, in principal at least, for FIFA president Sepp Blatter's proposal to reintroduce limits on foreign players. This is potentially very good news for football. "This is a major event that is crucial for the management of sport in general and especially football", said Blatter. The ruling also adds protection against the threat from the G14 group of Europe's most powerful clubs to form a breakaway league. This is only the first stage in the process of re-establishing a limit on foreigners and it remains to be seen whether Blatter's plan to cap the number of non-domestic players at five per match by 2010 will be possible under EU law.

Media Dons Its Rose-Tinted Binoculas

Has anyone noticed how the English and Scottish football commentators and pundits watch a different game to the rest of us? Following Russia's chastening and thoroughly deserved 2-1 victory over England in the European Championship qualifier in Moscow the airways were crackling with the notion that England had actually played really well, 'controlling the game for 68 minutes'. The increasingly ridiculous Alan Hansen said that he couldn't remember a team playing so well and losing. What a warped view of football they must have. Russia pretty much dominated England from start to finish, panicking the visitors with their short, sharp, precise passing and relentless closing down. What a lot of English pundits don't seem to understand is that if a team is playing the kind of probing, precision football that Russia play, there aren't lots of balls being hoofed into the box and so not a great deal of goalmouth action. Opportunities, when they arrive, will be few and far between and need to be taken. This is precisely what Hiddink's young side did. England's defending, seen as 'heroic' back home, was in fact more often of the shambolic, last-ditch variety. None of the back four ever looked in control. Lets not forget that Russia hit the post and forced a goal-line clearance from Paul Robinson. And where were all the 'chances' the radio and TV folk said England had to wrap up the game when they led 1-0? There was Gerrard's wayward volley. And? Well, that was it, actually. Alan Hansen summed up an afternoon of delusion perfectly when he said "can you name one international team with as many world class players as England?". Yes Alan. Russia, Croatia, enough said. Not only is he watching another game, he's watching it from another planet.

Hoops Are A Must-See This Autumn

What in the name of Gianni Versace's trousers is going on down at Loftus Road. First Formula 1 supremos Flavio Briatore and Bernie Ecclestone move in. Then both Gianluca Vialli and Billy Costacurta are mentioned as QPR's possible new managers. And, finally, supermodel Naomi Campbell and media-blonde Tamara Beckwith turn up on a miserable Monday night and add a touch of glamour to a 1-0 home win against Norwich. Suddenly the days when QPR were England's most fashionable club come rolling back. Stan Bowles as the fifth Rubette, all blow-wave and socks round his ankles, Malcolm Allison's hat, that ultra-modern plastic pitch. Is Loftus Road going to be the place to be and the place to be seen. Here are 5 ways QPR can ensure they become the hottest club on the catwalks this season:
1. Sign Christian Vieri On A Pay-Per-Goal Contract
"Supermodels? Give me half-an-hour to pack a bag."
2. Play Pete Doherty At Right-Back
Apparently, Mr Humanshambles is a fan. And he can play. A bit. That'll do, get him in the side.
3. Build A Funny-Shaped Bar
In the shape of a lemon...no a tear...no a shinpad...buffalo mozzarella...spiral scratch ep...
4. Re-Name The Club
How about losing the PR and just having Q? No, that's a magazine. What about Westside Warriors? Way Out West? West Side Rangers? There you go, WSR, sorted.
5. Buy As Many Ageing Foreigners As Possible
Del Piero? Figo? Rivaldo? Montella? Raul? Adriano? No-one wants Adriano

The Duck Cannot Land Too Soon

If rumours are to be believed, Milan turned down both Gianluigi Buffon and Luca Toni in the summer in favour of chasing and eventually landing Brazilian wonderkid Alexandre Pato. Because of his age, Pato has been waiting in the wings ever since. But from January 2008, the £10 boy described variously as 'the best young player on the planet' and 'the new Kaka' will turn eighteen and become available to play competitive first team football at the San Siro. After the start the Rossineri have made to the season, the new year cannot come too soon. Inazghi and Gilardino just don't work as a pair and Renaldo seems more interested in jetting back to Rio at any opportunity than actually getting match fit so Pato maybe just what is needed to rejuvenate Ancelotti's creaking and sometimes demotivated squad. Anyone who has watched Pato's career highlights so far on YouTube wont need much convincing of the genius of the kid they call the Duck. In fact, its hard to recall the last time a 17-year-old had as much natural talent, Pele in '58 perhaps or Del Piero in those electrifying moments when he first began to emerge from Baggio's shadow. Put it this way, Pato has the sort of tricks that make Cristiano Renaldo's step-overs look about as dangerous as Chris Waddle's. Clarence Seedorf is already convinced. "Pato is ready to play in the first team", he proclaimed confidently a few weeks ago. His potential striking partner Renaldo agrees. "I think he is ready for our championship", he told Gazzetta Dello Sport. Everyone who is asked about Pato responds in the same way. There is a sense that the world of football is about to witness the birth of someone very special indeed.

In Praise Of Bobo The Bull

For two seasons or so at Inter Milan Christian Vieri ruled the world. Following his world-breaking transfer from Lazio in 1999, Bobo was almost unstoppable, marauding his way through the middle of defences up and down the peninsula leaving carnage in his wake. He was unbelievable, almost comedic, easily the most dangerous striker in the world. That ferocious hammer of a left-foot thumped 22 goals in 2001/2 and 24 the following season. Then he began refusing to celebrate his goals as a protest at not being appreciated. He spent the whole of the 2003 season looking as if someone had just ran off with his girlfriend. And talking of girlfriends, Vieri's legend has been built as much by his antics off the pitch as they have on it. He has had stormy relationships with models Fernanda Lessa, Elisabetta Canalis and Melissa Satta, been spotted out and about at several hundred nightclubs, owns several bars and restaurants, two clothing labels and has his own brand of sunglasses. He also slapped a 20 million Euro lawsuit on Massimo Morratti for what he described as "moral and existential damage" inflicted by the Inter president. And then there was the Euro 2004 press conference. Bobo looked the gathered journalists right in their collective eyes and stated "I'm more of a man than all of you put together. I can walk down the street with my head held high. I can look at myself in the mirror, but you cannot". He then stood up and walked calmly out as the whole room stared at the floor and tried not to show how scared they were. Self-confidence was never a problem for Mr Vieri. Scoring goals, however, started to become one. At Euro 2004 he missed around 87 clear-cut chances and began to look as if he was never going to find the back of the net again. But then, during a rare appearance in his one season at Atalanta in 2006 , he picked up the ball on the half-way line, span 180 degrees and hammered the ball almost 50 yards into the goal. "It's a very emotional moment for me", said Bobo after the match. With the end of his magnificent career now in sight, any goal for his new club Fiorentina is likely to make him feel the same way. Vieri and his antics will be sadly missed.

Home Truths

1. People who say Italian football is boring are the same people who go and see Robbie Williams at Knebworth.

2. No-one has ever read any of David Pleat's chalkboards in The Guardian.
3. England's problems have absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with Lampard and Gerrard playing together.
4. Every single transfer rumour story in the tabloids is made up by hacks. Do not believe them. Any of them.
5. Its probably Alex Ferguson's fault that Paul Scholes tackling hasn't improved in ten years. Same with Giggs' right-foot and Rooney's temper.

Player Profile: Andrea Pirlo

Name: Andrea Pirlo

Date of birth: May 19, 1979
Birthplace: Flero, Italy
Nationality: Italian
Height: 177 cm
Weight: 68 kg
Club: Milan
Position: Midfielder
Previous clubs: Brescia, Inter Milan, Reggina

International debut: September 2002 v Azerbaijan
Caps: 33

Goals: 5

Andrea Pirlo is a unique footballer in more ways than one. The son of a wealthy industrialist, Pirlo spent the early part of his career as a 'fantasista', a number 10 in the mould of Baggio, Totti or Del Piero. But Carlo Ancelotti had the vision and the courage to turn this most gifted of talents into a deep-lying playmaker who sits just in front of the back four and Pirlo has never looked back. No other player of his type fills a similar role. It is a position that Milan used to fill with the not inconsiderable bulk of Marcel Desailly. And yet, for both club and country, he has become utterly indespensable, dictating the direction, tempo and shape of the play with his endless, almost metronomic, array of chips, dinks and ultra-precise through-balls. He is the most graceful passer of the ball in world football. And probably its most lethal dead ball specialist too. Pirlo isn't limited by his distinctive position on the pitch. He spends a significant amount of time lurking in and around the box, supporting the strikers and hitting the back of the net when the mood takes him. His beautifully angled reverse ball to Fabio Grosso in extra-time of the World Cup 2006 semi-final against Germany was the defining moment of the tournament, a few more time-frozen seconds be filed in the box marked 'all-time classics'. Pirlo is a thoughtful kind of footballer and an unassuming kind of genius. Maybe his team-mate Gennaro Gattuso put it best when he said "when I see what Andrea can do with the ball I have to ask myself whether I am a footballer." Privately, almost every other player in the world probably feels the same.

Opinion: Your Not Singing Anymore

According to the latest survey of football stadiums by property consultants Drivers Jonas Old Trafford is the best in Europe and Anfield has the best atmosphere. Fans were asked to rate the away grounds they had visited in terms of the facilities, view of the pitch, and access to and from the ground and Man United's so-called 'Theatre of Dreams' came out top of the pile, followed by Arsenal’s Emirates stadium, Barcelona’s Nou Camp, Newcastle’s St James’s Park and the City of Manchester Stadium. But fans also rated atmosphere as the most important factor when rating their experience and it is here where Anfield came out on top. Liverpool's home was followed by Celtic Park, Portsmouth’s Fratton Park, the Nou Camp and St James’s Park. Those questioned thought that the passion, singing, scarf-waving, colours worn and flags waved by Liverpool supporters was better than at any other European club. Sadly, this, and every other outcome in the survey, is an absolute load of bollocks and tells us considerably more about the blinkered vision of English fans than it does about the stadiums of Europe. Anyone with a passing acquaintance with Old Trafford knows it is nowhere near the best stadium on the continent. And anyone who has spent any time in the stands of the continents' footballing hotbeds knows that Anfield does not have the best atmosphere. And what in the name of insignificant provincial gatherings are Fratton Park and St James' Park doing in the top five? Have these people ever heard the noise or witnessed the spectacle of the Milan derby, Barca v Real, the Rome derby, Borussia Dortmund at home, the Genoa derby, the Greek derby's, the Sicilian derby's, the Turkish derby's or any big game involving teams such as Napoli, Valencia or Fiorentina? Italy's stadiums may have been voted the scariest to visit in the survey but when it comes to atmosphere they make England's grounds look like the sanitised prawn-sandwich hush palaces they really are. So are we now to assume that the English football public is incapable of distinguishing between a ripple of applause and a wall of sound and vision? Bloody hell.

In The Land Of The Blind...

Another big game, another catalouge of refereeing errors. Mike Dean's performance in Man United's 2-0 victory over the newly Mourinho-less Chelsea adds more weight to the argument that a significant percentage of games in the Premier League are now being decided by the mistakes of the man in the middle. Here is an incident by incident breakdown of the key refereeing moments.

17 mins: the home side should have been given a penalty when the increasingly unlikable Joe Cole brought down Evra in the box.
32 mins: Mikel slides in on what looks like a 50-50 ball with Patrice Evra and is shown a straight red card by the pocket-fumbling Mr Dean. A yellow would have been appropriate. A red was ridiculous. John Terry tries to grab it off him and doesn't receive a caution. Every player in the country now thinks they can steal the referee's cards and get away with it.
48 mins: Mike Dean must be thinking about watching Antiques Roadshow later on the telly and has forgotton about half-time. In the extra minute he adds on, Tevez heads in Giggs' cross to give Man U the lead.
71 mins: For the next 20 minutes, the Englishmen on the pitch start behaving like, well, Englishmen. Rooney, who has just been booked and has subsequently lost his temper, shoulder charges Ashley Cole who is sent flying. It is pre-meditated and very deliberate. The ref does nothing. A yellow might have made the irritable little ginger git think twice about doing it again.
74 mins: A late, nasty challenge from behind on Ronaldo by the really rather loathesome Joe Cole gets a yellow card. He should, of course, now be off the pitch.
80 mins: Wes Brown joins the party with a needless, spiteful challenge for which he gets a yellow card.
82: Captain John Terry sets the example by screaming abuse at Renaldo.
83: Terry is finally booked for a tackle on Rooney and screams abuse at Mike Dean. If he'd sent him off, Terry might think twice etc
89 mins: Louis Saha wins a penalty for a dive so obviously theatrical you're surprised it isn't wearing a jaunty hat and calling everybody darling.
93 mins: The already booked Wes Brown deliberately injures Soloman Kalou but the ref just ignores it and blows the final whistle. He is surrounded by Chelsea players and finishes the game as he has spent most of it, flustered.

In the six years that have passed since Premier League officials were given professional status, the improvements promised by the then head of the Professional Game Match Officials Board Philip Don have failed to materialise. In fact, the standard of officiating in the English top division has actually got worse. The men in black might be getting paid £40,000 a year these days but they are, indisputably, the poorest of any major league in Europe, possibly the world.