And we are done

Name the year

That's it for me and Everton. I don't go much now anyway but Saturday's pathetic display at Arsenal has finished me off - specifically when Louis Saha was replaced.
Yes, he'd done fuck all but come on - give him something, anything! And bringing on Sylvain Distain means basically you're declaring at 0-0. Oops, and not for the first time.
What made the whole thing doubly annoying was the pub we'd been in pre-match actually had the game on. It's fitting that it was at Arsenal where I finally decided enough's enough. They compare their ticket prices to things like the theatre.
I'm going on Saturday to watch The Ladykillers - tickets were about the same as Saturday (£35) but with the theatre or a concert or whatever you have an idea of what you're getting. You make an informed decision based on reviews, experience, word of mouth.
It's not like that with football. What other part of your life do you pony up real money, knowing that it's going to be shit? You voluntarily do this week after week.
We were predictably insipid on Saturday. And yes, most teams go there and lose but it's different with Everton. We used to swat them aside. And now what - we (ie David Moyes) treat a 1-0 defeat as some kind of success.
Well we all know where we stand now, and I'm done with it. Fuck you Moyes, fuck you Bill Kenwright and chums, and fuck you Dermot O'Leary (whom I just don't like).

Last night's nerd togger - a new dawn

My vanquished opponent

Friends, come gather for the future is here. It is bold, it is fearless, it transcends the physical and ethereal worlds. It stands firm, chest out, and defies resistance. All hail my new 3-5-2 nerd togger formation.
There are some issues - Howard is still occasionally awful - but the overall effect is ace.
But the problem of Everton's lumbering attacking moves is no more - where once there was Cahill stood in the middle waiting for Fellaini to amble along, now there are players zooming everywhere. Overlaps, diagonal runs, defenders left flailing - it's all here.
Remember United battering Norwich at Carrow Road in about 92? It's like that.
The line up is: Howard. Back three of (right to left) Heitinga, Jerjelka, Distain. Rodwell and Fellaini in the middle. Arteta on the right with Baines on the left, then Cahill behind Saha (left) and Beckford. The former Leeds man misses as many as he scores (at least) but he is murder to knock off the ball, and he is quick - a novelty for Everton, nerd or real.
The beauty of this formation is you always have bodies in the attacking half, while the three at the back are reasonably solid.
Fellaini and Rodwell are always available for a pass while in possession and also make it difficult for opposition nerd troops to get through the middle.
I've actually tweaked it a touch from the 3-5-2 in the formations list but I can't remember what I did - possibly pushing Cahill a bit further forward. You getting this, ladies?
I've sacrificed some possession - with 4-5-1 I was having all the ball but not scoring - but it's worth it for the increased number of scoring chances. A key point as the nerd Toffees miss an awful lot.
Possible the best thing is Baines - playing this far forward he can get some ace crosses in. He's also quick enough to get back and defend.
Arteta is still a problem and he's there mainly for free kicks, but Heitinga is just behind when the nerd Spaniard is shrugged aside by some nameless Spurs oik.
Does this formation really work? Put it this way, against nerd Liverpool I now expect to win, whereas before I had half a chance. I think I've lost once against them since playing this way. It works against most teams but Chelsea are trickier, I often revert to 4-3-1-2 for them.
In the last few days - yes, this is a scientific study - I have stuffed Liverpool (several times), Bayern Munich, Roma, Lazio, Marseille, PSG, Spurs, Villa, Arsenal, City and more. All with 3-5-2 for at least a third of the game - a good nerder knows one must occasionally tweak to counter events in play.
So there it is my fellow tough guys who have no trouble talking to girls - this is my gift to you. Cherish it, tweak it, enjoy it. To the nerdmobile!

Bent

Feel the hyperbole

Was anyone else slightly - maybe 5% - surprised Birmingham's winner was given in yesterday's Co-Op final?

There's something strange when the underdog wins these days. As REM put it, Leonard Bernstein. Or if you prefer, there's something going on that's not quite right.

This goes back to a theory I've long held, that officials are subconsciously (mostly) favouring certain teams.

The equation works thus: massive hyperbole surrounding football means everyone expects a certain outcome - why would officials be exempt from this? 

Add the natural human desire to want to make people happy and it's understandable that officials lean towards certain teams. Chuck in a home crowd and the effect, and with it the pressure on the officials, is magnified.

Because we're repeatedly told these teams will win, and lets have it right here it's Manchester United mainly, there's a certain feeling of the natural order when they do win. It feels right. When the powerful clubs are upset it feels wrong. As if someone somewhere has left the iron on. 

Another development caused by the media saturation of football is the creation of a bizarre conservatism in supporters. Where once we were punk rockers raging against The Man, now we're all 'investment' and shirt-sales-in-Asia.

Be honest, it feels weird that Chelsea are out of the top four currently. Nothing against Spurs, but it just feels wrong. Conversely, Manchester City for Liverpool feels 'right' as we have been told for a while now that nothing can stop City (except FULHAM - ha!). 

A fella I used to know once said of Everton's approaching top-four finish in 2005, 'we know who our Champions League teams are, and they're not one'. 

And certainly Everton's finish that season did provoke an odd amount of 'you'll embarrass the nation' jibes among the internet football community. Going back further, and again with Everton, when they stayed up after beating Wimbledon 3-2 on the final day of the 1993/4 season, Match of the Day had David Baddiel and Frank Skinner on as pundits.

Not Premier League

Skinner said something along the lines of 'it feels wrong if a club like Everton goes down'. And he was right. Remember that Barnsley fan screaming into the Grandstand cameras that the league was fixed so they went down in 1998? I'm not saying it was fixed but I know what he meant.

Coverage since then has blasted out of all proportion - there's an entire industry based around talking about football. It doesn't matter what you say. Just. Keep. Talking. 

So the expectation of certain things becomes greater and the pressure on those to deliver is greater. It's unavoidable that officials are affected.

How else do you explain the bizarre reaction to Wayne Rooney's assault on Wigan's James McCarthy on Saturday (and a couple of weeks ago the handball by Paul Sholes against Leeds and Ryan Giggs' foul on Kevin Doyle in the same match)? 

Even the Match of the Day commentator Jonathon Pearce bottled it, murmuring something like 'oh that's not nice'. As if he's scared to criticise and upset one of the cartel.

As of this morning referee Mark Clattenburg has told the FA he dealt with Rooney at the time, presumably by giving him a little cuddle. So that's that.
Bollocks. No way Clattenburg saw it, or if he did it was out of the corner of his eye. Either he saw something and bottled it (quite likely) or he saw nothing but heard the crowd (more likely) and gave, I don't know, something? 

Of the incident itself it's just another example of how football people clearly aren't governed by the same laws, both official and scientific, as the rest of us. That's why they fall over with their feet tucked under their arse and their backs arched, and can offer an excuse of 'self defence' when they get rumbled for smashing their arm into someone's grid.
They even use ridiculous phrases which are seeping into everyday speak: 'simulation', 'gone to ground', 'coming together' etc.

It's understandable Clattenburg didn't book Rooney if he didn't see what happened, but to then claim he dealt with it sufficiently is ridiculous. If that's his stance then he's clearly not up to the job and the FA or Premier League or whoever it is deals with this stuff has to give him the shove, or at least a major bollocking.

Clattenburg seems to be one of those refs who wants to be chums with the famous players, like that penis Graham 'hi Thierry' Poll. 

They see themselves as part of the firm now, as celebrities themselves. Perhaps they feel like they're the players' peers, or at least they're nearly there. And what better way for the bed-wetter at school to get in the hard kids' gang than doing everything they say, giving them their sweets and handing over their toys? That'll earn their respect. 

'Sliding scale of cuntery' stuns fans, dickheads (normals un-moved)

Nob central

Football is reeling after Uefa announced its staggering new policy for buying Champions shouldn't-there-be-an-apostrophe-in-there-somewhere? League final tickets.
European football's governing body - no doubt egged on by those maniacs in Brussels - has introduced a 'sliding scale of cuntery' to determine  fans' worthiness of entry to the Wembley showpiece.
A Uefa spokesman said: 'In partnership with the Premier League, we've been working towards the total cunting up of football for many years.
'We're not about to miss this opportunity to ram home what a holy cunting mess top-level football is today. And where better than the home of football, Wembley Stadium, to finally put Old Football out of its misery and piss in its wounds while dancing around in a suit made of money and eating a big massive fuck off money pie?'
This is how the ticket scheme breaks down, with the most important people at the top and their ticket entitlement in brackets.

Champions League final tickets entitlement (most cuntish at the top):

1. People who 'only go on corporates now' (up to 10 tickets)
2. People who wave at the big screen when they're on it (8)
3. Women (7)
4. Adrian fucking Chiles (6)
5. Blokes who cry (5)
6. People who phone in 606 and expect the host to remember their previous call (4)
7. 'Phil from Clapham' (3)
8. Alan Biley (2)
9. People who spend the whole game pointing a camera/phone at the pitch (1)
10. You (just fuck off)

Fans' representatives have condemned the move - well they have time to be bothered about this stuff seeing as they've NEVER EVEN SPOKE TO A WOMAN.
Arsenal fan Jools Consultant blasted Uefa, saying: 'Facilities, there was contact, can't raise your hands, the game's changed, who are ya?'
Spurs supporter Sylvia Hardbucket added: 'Which way is the ground?'

Alan Nixon says so, 22/1/11 to whatever day the transfer window shut

A bus is just one of Blackburn's attractions

Home straight for Alan Nixon says so now, with Sky's mega countdown (they invented the game you know. Oh yes, time was old idiots like Tommy Lawton would just run round aimlessly screaming 'what is this game!?' while smashing their faces against the goalpost. Generation upon generation searching for direction then Sky came and showed us the way) trickling towards its terrible conclusion. Like a post-five-pint wank.
So what certs has Alan Nixon served up via the cast iron medium of the Mirror/People this last week? Behold: 
Statesman-like El Hadji Diouf (Blackburn) is off to West Ham while Charlie Adam (Blackpool) is ready to 'force' a move to Liverpool (joint byline with David Maddock that one). 
Further east Manchester United are braced for Patrice Evra's imminent defection to Real Madrid and have Benfica full-back Fabio Coentrao, Newcastle’s Spanish star Jose Enrique or Celtic’s Honduran wing-back Emilio Izaguirre lined up to replace him. Bet hedging courtesy of Nixon and 1940s tobacconist Tom Hopkinson there. 
United's Manchester chums City will lose Emmanuel Adebayor to Monaco (oops) for £9m while Shaun Wright-Phillips has been seduced by New Bolton's style of football and will stop at nought to sign up to the land of faded blue Ford Escorts and Ennesse trackies. Wanderers are also getting Arsenal striker Carlos Vela on loan.
Just over from Bolton lie the golden plains of Blackburn - where 'tis said - a man can dine mightily off a pound and still have change to entertain a young lady in the manner of a princess. By driving like a maniac and killing her. Topical - that's satire right there.
The town will be lifted to know Rovers' Chris Samba - who Nicko's previously had going all over t'shop - is staying at Ewood now. And joining him will be Ruben Rochina (Barcelona) and Sao Paolo's Ronieli dos Santos. You can see them advertising their new homes now: 'Blackburn - come for the scenery, stay for the pea-wet.' Or is that Wigan? Argentinian star Mauro Formica (Newell's Old Boys - aren't they all dear!) will also be joining them if his visa or something issues are sorted.
Elsewhere Sunlan want Wiissttaaammm's Freddie Piquionne for £3m as Steve Bruce is giving up on Stoke's Ricardo Fuller. West Brom are set to lose out on Obafemi Martins (who was always available cheap on Playstation2 PES and was dead fast but hopeless) who is leaving Russian side Rubin Kazan and going to Birmingham on loan. 
Speaking of shite, Newcastle covet Aston Villa's Stephen Ireland. Werder Bremen fancy Spurs' Niko Kranjcar to the tune of £5m but he wants to stay in the Premier League, ideally with Lipewl, who will offload Christian Poulsen (I thought he was the chairman or something?) to Monaco. Across Stanley Park Everton's James Vaughan went to Crystal Palace, but on loan, not the £850k Nixon said.
And lastly, everyone's favourite home movie director Paul Jewell is ready to bring Swindon striker Charlie Austin to Ipswich for £1.2m.
That's all I've seen fuckos, now put your knickers on and make us a brew. 

Alan Nixon says so 8/1/11 - 14/1/11

You can hang your hat on this

This week's Alan Nixon round up of players and managers who, his tireless research informs him, are on the move. From the Mirror/People (they seem to put their stuff on the Mirror site): David Wheater (Middlesbrough) to Bolton Wanderers for £2.25m, but Nicko later reckons the fee's a stumbling block. What insight! 
Stephen Pienaar (Everton) is off to Spurs with Robbie Keane coming the other way 'if Spurs pay some of his wages', which must be tempting for them.
Avram Grant to become Chelsea's director of football if he gets the boot from West Ham United.  
Shane Lowry (Aston Villa) is off to Charlton on loan for the rest of the season. Manchester United are planning a 'double raid' on the north east with Sunderland ­midfielder Jordan Henderson and Newcastle full-back Jose Enrique both gagging to join Fergie's band of referee-baiting gobshites (joint byline with Alan Oliver).
Charlie Adam (Blackpool) is the subject of a three-club 'bidding war', with Birmingham, Sunderland and Blackburn the dizzying possibilities for the man with the demob haircut. Blackburn are also after Villa pair Stephen Warnock and James Collins in a swap for 'unsettled Steve Kemba', sorry I just made a player up there, Chris Samba.
Nicko also warns 'Rovers will have to move fast if they want to snap up 16-year-old Crewe teenager Nick Powell, as the England youth striker is also interesting Arsenal'. Make haste, Blackburn! And Blackpool will apparently be signing Southampton winger Jason Puncheon, currently on loan at Millwall, for £200,000.
Liverpool have signed Jason Banton from Blackburn, he says. Others say he's on trial at Anfield. Yet more Rovers news: 'Blackburn boss Steve Kean has won the race for Birmingham winger Sebastian Larsson - but is willing to wait until summer to clinch the deal.' Course he is, Alan!
Burnley are still after Bournemouth boss Eddie Howe and are offering a cool £500,000 plus bonuses! And lastly there was a google link under 'Alan Nixon' which says 'My porn pal - hide my ass!' but I didn't click that as I'm at work.

Alan Nixon says so, 1/1/11 -7/1/11

From here to Darwen?

We're into the transfer window now so hopefully some of Alan Nixon's carefully researched stories will actually happen in the next few weeks. 
Otherwise he'll look a right nana! (To me, I doubt anyone else is that bothered.)
Anyway, didn't see anything from the lumbering fatarse in the People so it's a Mirror special this week. Pray silence for, the Nixon report:
First up, Ronaldinho (AC MIlan) to Blackburn Rovers - incredibly this one looked a goer for about an hour, and Preston North End's Adam Barton to Liverpool (£5m).
Elsewhere: 'Burnley will move for Watford boss Malky Mackay - if Sam Allardyce does not take the chance of a return to management,' roars an indignant Nixon at a baffled waitress as she delivers his brekky. Oh no - it's got scrambled eggs and he asked for fried! 
Brad Guzan (Villa) to Hull City on loan. Carlos Vela  (Arsenal) to Bolton on loan. Roque Santa Cruz  (Manchester City) to Blackburn on loan, although yesterday Nixon said City have 'put a block' on that one. 'Congolese destroyer ' Chris Samba (Blackburn) to Villa with James Collins and a bag of readies going the other way.
Also Ewood-bound is Blackpool's Charlie 'some mothers do' Adam. While Villa are 'on the trail of Le Havre midfielder Gueida Fofana, 19, who is out of contract in the summer', as well as Spurs full back Kyle Walker - should have joined Everton, you tit. Unless that was the other Kyle. And West Ham are about to end Steve Sidwell's 'Villa hell'.
In the north east, live action pumpkin Steve Bruce (he walks! he talks! he makes an effective Halloween lantern and a fine soup!) wants to bring Victor Caceres (Libertad) to Sunlan'. And Birmingham's Swedish winger Seb Larsson is heading to chipmunk-faced swordsman Alan 'what's your sign, love? Aries? No, Pisces? Cancer? Libra? Ah, Libra - I knew it' Pardew's Newcastle for £1.5m. And lastly Brann Bergen’s Rodolph Austin is off to QPR for £1.6m. Course he is.
Rodrigo Moreno (Benfica, currently on loan at Bolton) to sign permanently at the rucanor stadium but Benfica want £6million.

Last night's nerd togger - middle ground

The real (!) Estadio Santiago Bernabeu

Two wins, two defeats. Leaving me with five more defeats than wins - a record I will never break as I'm not quite good enough to get to the next level, so I'll keep bumping along like this. 
It's quite sobering to realise I've peaked at a pretty poor level of a game played on a toy by kids who are going to all get much better than me because they learn how to do all the flicks and that. 
I'm waving them on to better things, like Withnail in that horrendous film which people who want to appear cleverer than they really are say is their favourite film, even though it isn't actually funny and they nearly wet themselves watching Trains, Planes and Automobiles. 
Anyway the two defeats were close, (City 1-2 Chelsea, Everton 0-1 Arsenal), but then a couple of rip-snorting wins, first Everton went two up in 20 minutes to Villa before my opponent pulled the plug, incurring my customary 'ha ha ha' message - no exclamation, I'm not an animal. 
Up next the nitwit I was playing went Real Madrid so I plumped for Barcelona. With 10 minutes gone his keeper passes it out short, but David Villa nips in and smashes in a shot. It's saved but comes back to Villa who hits the bar with his next effort. Just as I was about to bellow some major language at the telly Villa prods home.
Then my opponent appears to stop playing so I just pass it round at the back. A message comes in saying, 'I don't like the shirts,' - what existential mind games are afoot? But then he hits back and tries to make a game of it - to no avail. I triumph 1-0 but best of all I could hear his every foul-mouthed splutter as nerd Barca eased through his nerd Real like a hot blade through a trapped, whimpering pug. 


Previously:
A day of days

Up yours, Spurs and Bayern

Fridge

A right royal bumming

A grim tale

Have that Fritz

No name

It begins

Last night's nerd togger - a right royal bumming

Wriggly little wanker

No other word for it. And this was actually the sum total of the weekend's nerding, as mrs Biff was present the entire time and takes a dim view of the nerding lexicon (eg: 'CUNT! I make no apologies for that.'). Plus she walks in front of the screen and starts asking me things, demanding I pause the game - while still in front of the screen. We only get three pauses, woman! Each is precious and not to be wasted on why I haven't fitted the spotlight in the kitchen.
So I took my chance when she was in the bath and it was a calamity - the game, the bath seemed to produce the required results - as nerd Arsenal hammered my nerd Everton 6-0.
I actually started off well, passing the ball around nicely but never really threatening. Gradually the nerd Gunners got into the game and I committed the ULTIMATE SIN OF NERDING - I lost my temper. Once you start charging round sliding in it's all over. And so it proved here with that BASTARD Arshavin wriggling his troll features through seemingly at will. It would be no surprise to see him hopping around with a mini pitchfork defending his nerd gold, if I was zapped into the Fifaworld, Tron style. That mangled metaphor stands.
The lumbering defensive duo of Heitinga and Jerjelka couldn't get near the little shit. Him and that fucking farmer's boy Fabregas. Two quick goals made it 2-0 at half time and I considered pulling the plug but I thought if I regained my composure I could get back into it.
Within five minutes of the restart they were four up (the second of which drew the remark above) and Heitinga was sent off, to be followed shortly after by Baines. The capitulation was finished with time to spare as forkboy Arshavin added two more.