When football meets politics

The title of the post is quite corny, alright. But this is an area I find particularly intriguing. And I will surely have more opportunities to broach on the subject. Partly because the blend between the two disciplines is lately getting even more blurred than the tradition of their fusion suggests, and also because I see it as yet another expression of the passion that surrounds tha game.

I'm not much into the prosaics of modern day footballers' 'autobiographies'. I know that it's an efficient money-maker in Britain, but I cannot see myself having to go through some hundred pages supposedly to relive one football season (and yet John Terry's recount of last season has sold really well in the past months, and that's after winning the league...just imagine Paolo Maldini writing his memoirs - sorry. Irresistible diversion. As usual.). However, I had enjoyed Paolo Di Canio's autobio in 2000. I used to like the guy whose skills had been so underrated in his homeland. He's had his crazy moments, but he's always managed to come out finely with his tricks on the field. Those who read this book might have second thoughts on prejudging the whole mess he's put himself so nicely into by his repeated, presumably fascist salute towards the Curva Nord. I tend to do so as well. But he might be going slightly overboard. His descriptions of the notorious 'trasferte' of which he used to form part of when he was still a kid (and a quasi-professional youth player in the Lazio ranks) gave a more realistic picture of how football is seen by the real hardcore fans in Italy. What irks me is the fact that Paolo is not a kid anymore, and he knows that he's got the media attention all over him with a simple gesture. So I start to question how genuine his behaviour is this time around.
I don't see why he should insist in being an ultra' rather than a lucky footballer who has the chance to play for his favourite team.

Anything which might remind anyone of the mussolini days in Italy is anti-constitutional and illegal. Which fuels the media frenzy even more. Do they really need anything of the sort to have something to talk about in Italy?

More to come...

At the Rockhal

Yesterday Duran Duran's concert was actually good. It was so cool to see Simon Le Bon and the Taylors so close coming from Jane's posters and pictures almost twenty years ago. And it was thanks to those Music-Trip-day casettes that I knew most of the songs they played. Apart from Simon, who has grown a considerable beer belly and some extra wrinkles, they all look exactly as they did way back in their heydays. Especially John Taylor. And they had a pretty good live show. Who could have ever told me that I would one day watch Duran Duran live, now that most of my colleagues' reactions were: 'Oh are they still around'?

Il Metronomo

He might not be Franco Baresi or Paolo Maldini, but we're not too far. The tenacity and vision of Demetrio Albertini was also an integral part of the massive achievements of Milan's 'imbattibili' in the early nineties. He's been through it all under Don Fabio, to reach the peak with the scudetto-champions cup double after that magnificent final in Athens against Cruyff's Barcelona in 1994. That particular fixture had a clear favourite, the Catalans, who fielded the likes of Romario and Stoitchkov and who were coming from 4 consecutive league titles in Spain.

He was always at the centre of it all, pun included. That's why they called him
Il Metronomo, he undoubtedly managed the pace of the whole team. And after such a glorious career, he left (temporarily, as we all hope) the world of football without much fanfare. As was his style after all. Far from the media limelight, where possibble. The few personal moments of glory where the (not-so-rare) goals from direct freekicks. As was the case in a Coppa Italia final when he opened the score at the Stadio Olimipico in Rome, to see all the hopes of winning the often-snobbed trophy ruined as the team was outplayed by a couple of Lazio reserves.

In the end, the milan-born midfielder might have been the scapegoat for a couple of anonymous seasons in the late nineties. Recently he has tried his luck elsewhere at Atletico Madrid (where tha highest point was scoring yet another freekick in a derby against Real, clinching a draw in the 96th minute), then Lazio, Atalanta and finally Barcelona. But his home was Milan.

Until we see him again as Mister Albertini...

Latest football trip: Frankfurt

Here we were again...the usual three, with a random addition, all set for another football day. This time east, longer, colder, more stressful.

First things first. My friends pick me up. It's my role to plan the journey. First mishap. No GPS. Fine. Coming from an island where your longest drive if you're unlucky to find traffic cannot take more than an hour, we panic. The driver (whose notion of reality is at times rather blurred, to say the least) suggests driving ahead and following signs (where any) - actually we expected to find FRANKFURT on the first sign we find round the corner. I suggest buying a map (can't we get back to basics?). The wisest opinion comes (surprise surprise) from the only woman in the car. Let's borrow another GPS.

Fine, so here we go. Three and a half hours of snow, rain and Eldoradio. The awe of the stadium can be felt as soon as you get a glimpse from the motorway. Newly built for next year's World Cup, the Commerzbank Arena is beautiful both from the outside and the inside. The bar a bit less...a coffee can cost you up to 10 euros thanks to their 'clever' system of paying for your ritual snack.

The match (oh, by the way our aim was to watch a Bundesliga match) is between Eintracht Frankfurt and Stuttgart. The previously rather glorious home club which recently had its reputation tarnished with a corruption scandal as a result of which it had been relegated to the 3rd division is currently trying to get back to the glory days and climb up to the levels that matter. Trapattoni's side, on the other hand, is fighting off the dangerous 'draw syndrome' (Inter fans would know very well how chronic this can prove to be!! - couldn't resist). They drew their last 8 out of 11 matches, and they are currently anchored in mid-table, 18 points after leaders Bayern.

The outcome? A draw of course. 1-1. At least we enjoyed the opening goal by the home team. It's so cool to have 44000 Germans shouting 'Eintracht ein, Stuttgart NULL' with their soft spoken tendency which only their very melodious language allows. One tiny detail: for two hours it felt as if only my torso was still alive. The cold was unbearable unless you were a...real fan.

The stadium facilities are state of the art...light years away from the concrete old structures you find in Italy. There are still works going on of course, especially on the outside. The match as a means of entertainment is much more attractive to the fans. To the encounter itself: pretty good. You can recognise a Trapattoni side as easy as ABC. Very pragmatic, everyone strictly keeping his position and with an inevitable gap between a well packed midfield and the two strikers. Up there, Tomasson is still as ineffective as he was at Milan, while Ljuboja is a very interesting player, very fast and dynamic. The opponents on the contrary were adventurous, constantly creating space, especially on the flanks, and fast in their creative part.

Anyway. Mission accomplished. Now we've been to a Bundesliga match as well. The trip back was even more stressful. Looking back? Worthwhile. As always.

Tribute to the Best

It cannot really be hailed as a literary masterpiece. But one of the autobiographies I enjoyed most was certainly George Best's. His life had enough to fill way more volumes than his own 'Blessed'. These days a lot will be written on one of the most talented and contrasting figures of the game. I will not even attempt to go through the cliche' of his ups and downs and his career highlights and misfortunes.

Yet, after reading his book - after all had felt that due to my young age I did not know much about this much loved character - I kept following Best's random appearances in the media, which unfortunately were almost always related to his eternal enemy, his alcoholic self.

This is why I'd like to remember him like this, the 1968 European champion and Golden Ball winner: the fifth beatle, the first football icon, the flair player who took the mickey out of the opposing defenders, the kid from Northern Ireland who would never have the chance to play in a world cup, who could confuse even Matt Busby, the lover of women....and uncluckily his own destruction.

Lite

Just in case you didn't notice (actually I haven't done much yet to help you), the lite part in futbolite is a way for me to dare and wander in anything other than football. Because, yes, unlike what some people might think I do breathe, eat, drink and s*** without football on my mind.

I had Mark's same dilemma on Thursday watching prime time television. Admitting that normally my linguistic competences limit my choice, this time I could actually zap between intelligible-sounding channels, namely Rockpolitik on Italian (state) tv, the MTV EMAs and various football matches (in German or French, but thank God watching football does not trouble much the left cerebral hemisphere)...you see I'm at it again! What promised to be a spoilt-for-choice situation could almost degenerate into a prize for the most pathetic tv entertainment, which nowadays seems to be the order of the day.

Presuming I could bear only the music on Celentano's show, including the fabulous Crozza and Cornacchione, I was rather looking forward for a couple of performances at the EMAs. Madonna is always fascinating. At 47 her live act is still powerful and spectacular. She's always had producers who allow her to 'make all the others look like a bunch of amateurs', in Mr Robbie Williams' words. The latter was also fun as he's always somewhat unpredictable (actually I'd like to go to one of his concerts). Coldplay are good and their sound is rather complete notwithstanding being snubbed by some (yes, please do have a look at the link). But that deserves another blog.

What bugs me most is the dismal and horrid multinational that MTV has become (for quite a number of years now), where music has long been relegated in terms of the station's sell-to-teenagers target. Of course you have to take such awards with a pinch of salt. It takes just a look at the various categories of nominees to figure out that what mattered most were the 13 million teenagers who 'voted' and the coverage the commercial partners (even bigger than MTV) get. The legendary Black Eyed Peas together with U2, Coldplay and The Gorillaz for 'best group' says it all (oh, so Black Eyed Peas are actually a group! hmmm).

Anyway, I ended up missing on some (and they were indeed a few) good parts of Rockpolitik, missing half of Coldplay's performance and not knowing any of the Uefa cup matches results...;)

Les grenats

I admit that for me the word 'granata' meant only Torino. But residing at this crossroad is bringing me to unexplored stadiums, cities and fans. The latest one is the Stade St Symphorien home of les grenats of FC Metz. Of course we chose the best fixture possible as they were playing Gerard Houllier's Olympique Lyonnais. Any further comment on the opponents would be superfluous. So here we were in a very welcoming stadium, in the grenats' ultras favourite sector supporting the team currently anchored in last position of Ligue 1 playing the first, and undoubtedly best team of the league.

Planning is of course part of the fun...first consulting a map to see which team in which league would be playing the best fixture on the day chosen, getting to know where to get tickets from, making sure we will be able to find the place etc etc. Then comes the company of a couple of equally sick football lovers which is essential. Of course there will be many other trips to come and by time I will perhaps get better.

Metz have been quite resilient in the French top league along the years. Their best era was the mid-nineties when they won the League Cup and finished second in Ligue 1 behind RC Lens a year later. For the record they have won the French cup and another league cup all between 1984 and 1988. Their participation in European competitions has also been rather constant, albeit always anonymous.

Anyway, if you really want to know the final result was 0-4. But against the likes of Carew, Juninho, Wiltord, Tiago and Malouda we could not really hope for anything much different. But there is always an element of sympathy towards the underdog. We will have to see what the grenats will be up to in 6 months time...

And to look for an interesting Bundesliga fixture we go...

This is a sign in Ecthernach, on the very fringe of Luxembourg on its border with Germany. Now I know why they stand 152nd in the Fifa rankings and why you can have a (lower division) competitive match and the referee does not show up... Coming from a Maltese fan it's really bad.

The game at its worse...

From Il-Giornale (21-10-05):

Profondo Sud. Nei metodi, nel vivere lo sport, nel far risuonare sullo sfondo un vago clangore di «scacciapensieri». C'è un terzino da comprare, sarebbe pure bravo. Anche perché è figlio di quel Loseto che giocò in serie A. E allora? Compratelo oppure andatelo a guardare quando gioca. No, in questo profondo Sud che sta ritrovando consuetudini selvagge, un terzino bravo non lo si compra, lo si ottiene gratis con la forza. Roba da Padrino, da retro di un macello con i quarti di bue appesi e l'ostaggio che ulula. Roba da mazza da baseball fatta luccicare davanti al naso. Il fatto è regolarmente accaduto come da denuncia. La polizia ha sottoposto a indagini le due persone che ieri sera avrebbero aggredito il presidente del Monopoli calcio Vito Ladisa per costringerlo - secondo la denuncia che lo stesso imprenditore ha presentato - a cedere a titolo gratuito al Brindisi calcio il terzino del Monopoli (serie D) Gianluca Loseto, figlio di Onofrio (mediano del Bari negli anni '90).
A quanto si è saputo, agenti della squadra mobile sono giunti ai due aggressori, che hanno agito con i volti coperti da bandana, su indicazione dello stesso Ladisa che ha indicato i loro nomi nella querela presentata mercoledì sera in questura. Secondo la denuncia, Ladisa è stato aggredito nella sua ditta di ristorazione che si trova in via Napoli, a Bari. I due malviventi hanno fatto irruzione e con metodi da telefilm di quart'ordine hanno tentato di estorcere al presidente la firma per la cessione gratuita del calciatore. Della serie: «Se non firmi ti sfregio. Se continui a non firmare ti ammazzo».

Da qui la denuncia, l'inchiesta, gli arresti. Loseto junior resta al Monopoli. Che trattativa.

Sheffield FC oldest club in the world

From Soccernet.com :

Real Madrid will make the trip to Sheffield in 2007, but not to Wednesday or United.
The Spanish giants have agreed to be part of Sheffield FC's 150th anniversary celebrations.
Sheffield FC, who play in the Northern Counties East League, are the oldest football club in the world, formed in 1857.

Last year, Real and Sheffield FC became the only two clubs to be awarded the FIFA Order of Merit as part of the body's Centennial festivities.
FIFA usually concerns itself with international football but specifically chose the two clubs for the special honour - uniting the oldest and the greatest.

Sheffield FC chairman, Richard Tims, has spent years reorganised and rebuilding Sheffield FC - including moving them to their own ground in Dronfield, a village just south of the city. And in more recent times he has been organising a huge party to celebrate their 150th birthday.
This week Tims was in Madrid to meet Real officials and confirm they would be supporting the celebrations.

Real Madrid vice-president Emilio Butragueno personally showed Timms and fellow club director Simon Webster around the famous Bernaneu stadium.
A partnership and in-principle activity was agreed and will be formalised over the coming months.

Sheffield FC are planning to invite a number of teams to play at their Coach and Horses ground in 2007, and it's looking increasingly likely that Real will provide the showpiece event.
Tims said: 'This is a huge step on the road to our goal of establishing Sheffield FC as a major brand within the sport. Our unique position as the world's oldest club means we are taken very seriously by football's leading lights - like FIFA, and Real Madrid.

'The fact that Mr Butregueno is exploring the possibility of sending a Real Madrid team over to play against us in 2007 says a lot about how far we've come and the potential for the club.'

Ok, so the question is whether this blog will be just about football. In actual fact, my very first thought was that this should be a place for lovers of the game. But coming to think of it the name should not act as a constraint. Instead, I'll try to express myself on other things, but I am sure I can still do it as a futbolite. Mixed up? We'll see.

In the meantime, my internet wanderings this week have thrown at me some interesting stories. For example the drama of poor Cameroon full-back Pierre Wome who missed a decisive penalty in the 93rd minute which meant that his team would miss the world cup. It can barely get any worse (Milan fans do know something about suffering lately...but more of that later). But there are several experiences of bitter disappointment and mishaps which at times carry the mood of whole city or nation. The rummaging through Wome's house and the danger for his relatives is stuff for non-fans. The same can be said for the rather unfortunate (to say the least) guy who shot himself by mistake while celebrating the Croatian qualification. A revolver isn't exactly a scarf, a banner or a flag....

But back to extraordinary stories of extraordinary fans. This swedish guy won a great lottery and the first thing he could think about was buying his idol Ibrahimovic to play in his hometown club in the Swedish second Division. I will add the sad part to the story myself: I guess Zlatan's opinion would not be so romantic. And only becauseVisby (yes, that's the name of the club) do not play Champions League football (!)

And finally....what about the results of the Maltese national team lately? Croatia and Bulgaria aren't exactly Tagikistan and Lesotho! Was it a fluke again? I'm glad I might have to swallow some of words of mine these last days. Results like these mean to us as much as a World Cup qualification (or let's say almost). Time for the hopefuls!!

El pibe de oro

Like the most naive of debuts, mine would start with the very best there is in the repertoire. And in the realm of football there is no better role than that of el pibe de oro, the one who did anything with a sphere at his feet, be it an adidas ball in a world cup final or an apple during a tv show, he who is the symbol of a nation and the peak of football aesthetics. What sparked my imagination was an interesting article by Ian Hawkey in the London Times (here).

However, I won't be so much daring as to keep trying to find further adjectives for Diego Maradona's twenty years of football, or to recount all that he has attained along the way.

"Beyond everything else, no ball ever had a better experience than when it was at his left foot.” - Jorge Valdano

Quite frankly Maradona has a rather particular relationship, to say the least, with the British. Since denying his achievements is close to impossible, they limit themselves to composed language when they mention the actor who they consider synonymous with the drama of La mano de Dios to which they assisted in a Mexican June night of 1986. In actual fact, it is hihgly unlikely not to find a reference to this match whenever he who cannot be mentioned is in the news [which is to say quite often]. One of the most remembered encounters in the history of the game, the 1986 World Cup semi-final had a significance way beyond the field of play and a place in the final.

“Before the match we all declared that football didn’t have anything to do with the Falklands. That was a lie. We hardly thought of anything else. A lot of Argentinian boys had been killed over there. This was revenge.” - From El Diego

To top it all he scored a game with the help of "God's hand". Till this day Diego hasn't been forgiven for his infamous act. And subsequent encounters between the two nations proves the point (does a rather notorious scene between Becky and Pablo ring a bell?). Hawkey's contribution brings us to the latest confession, which cannot really be described as a sign of good will. In fact in an episode of Maradona's most recent tv venture he declared “He who robs a thief gets 100 years of pardons”. Seems like he would have been an international diplomat in another life! And on this I am pretty sure. Look at how he put his rivalry with the only other person who reached such otherwise-unseen level of football, Pele':

“Who was the best out of us two?” asked a beaming Maradona. “My mother thinks I was. Pele’s mother thinks he was.”

And now? Fans wouldn't bemoan at another Anglo-Argentine clash on German soil next year. In the meantime Diego practices cha-cha, presents tv shows, and copes with the no less arduous task of technical director of his beloved Boca Juniors. And is he investing some of his money into Brighton & Hove Albion together with Osvaldo Ardiles? Oh no but that's another story...