An all American hero

July 3, 2009

Clint_Dempsey_celeb_779981aHe conquered European champions Spain with two delicate touches of his right foot, then came within a whisper of masterminding the downfall of world football’s Goliath – mighty, magnificent Brazil – in the final of the Confederations Cup. So who is this footballing Adonis? Argentina’s beloved Leo Messi? Italy’s striking prodigy and former Manchester United youngster Giuseppe Rossi? No, it was a United States and Fulham midfielder as humble as American pie – Clint Dempsey.

His name might sound like something out of a spaghetti western, but Dempsey’s goal and assist against a Spanish side unbeaten in 35 games belatedly announced the 26-year-old’s arrival on the international stage. His opener against Brazil in the final then sealed his new found fame. The USA may have gone on the surrender their 2-0 lead, but Dempsey can rightly lay claim to being one of the tournament’s real discoveries. And, arguably, its best player (although officially he was pipped to the post by Brazil’s Kaká and Luís Fabiano).

If you think back to the 2002 World Cup, you’ll remember that Senegal’s incredible journey to the semi-finals prompted then Liverpool manager Gérard Houllier to pluck El Hadji Diouf and Salif Diao from obscurity and inflict them upon the Premiership. Now the Confederations Cup is no World Cup. Before that 2002 World Cup, Japan surprised everyone by reaching the final of the 2001 Confederation Cup on home soil, with Hidetoshi Nakata the star. But far from being headhunted by one of Europe’s top clubs, he was ditched by AS Roma and ended up at Bolton before retiring in 2006. Actually, in that respect the ultimate conclusions of his and El Hadji Diouf’s careers have not been so different.

So what next for Dempsey? Reports today have seen him linked with Everton, and he could definitely do a job operating on the opposite flank to Mikel Arteta at Goodison Park. But having watched him play for Fulham at Cravan Cottage a couple of times last season, I actually think the American is capable of performing on a bigger stage. If nothing else, his goals against Spain and Brazil have proved he has a big game mentality – and against Spain in particular, he really inspired the American team and spearheaded their shock result.

Perhaps Liverpool can be convinced to take another post-international tournament punt to bring in Dempsey. Certainly, at £4 million, he would be a fairly economical alternative to Valencia‘s David Silva – on the bench when the American embarrassed his team mates in South Africa. Failing that, I have no doubt that Roy Hodgson would be over the moon to keep a giant killer on his books as he looks to propel Fulham through their inaugural Europa League campaign.

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Another reason to love José Mourinho

March 12, 2009

jose-mourinhoMy sense of grief at the thought of not spending more time in the company of a certain Mr. José Mourinho after his Inter Milan side crashed out against Manchester United last night has already abated. Not because I won’t miss the lovable Portuguese rogue. But because José is determined not to go down without a fight. Literally.

First, Mourinho does the gallant thing. Blame Italy, the country he will be returning to, and not Inter Milan or even Manchester United. Next, heap praise on his victorious rivals, claim they’re on for a clean sweep of trophies and all the time make sure that he – and not Manchester United – are the centre of attention. And then, as if that wasn’t quite enough, he punches a United fan in the face outside Old Trafford. I know I should be shocked, appalled even, but the truth is that this most recent act of incomprehensible insanity is precisely Mourinho’s crowning glory in my eyes. Just like watching Phil Brown sitting Hull down in the middle of the pitch to give them a half-time team talk dressing down, or Zinedine Zidane headbutting Marco Materazzi, it is precisely Mourinho’s violent unpredictability that makes him so enigmatic – enticing even.

The reality is that management at the top of the Premiership has become dull, sterilised even. Arsène Wenger‘s idea of losing his cool is signing a player who, shock horror, isn’t from France (queue Andrei Arshavin). While Rafa Benítez enjoys publically crumbling into pieces, he still does so in a quiet kind of way, while Chelsea have ditched Luiz Felipe Scolari for a more sanitised alternative. Even Sir Alex Ferguson, once famed for his outbursts and for kicking a boot at David Beckham, has mellowed. Now when he gets really angry, he simply buys a cheaper bottle of red wine from Oddbins to share with the opposition’s manager.

Mourinho once questioned if Barcelona‘s Lionel Messi was prone to over egging challenges in matches: “‘Can Messi be suspended for acting? Barcelona is a very cultural city. You know all about theatre. You have theatres of high quality.” At the time it was a controversial comment. Looking back at it now, it feels like a poignant reminder of precisely the kind of theatre the Premiership has lacked in Mourinho’s absence. Come home soon, José.

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