city blog Blog #2

Posted: August 29th 2008
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It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a football club. For those unfamiliar with Jane Austen’s use of irony, let’s just say, it is a prerequisite for any football club,  even aspiring to challenge the ‘gang of four’, to have a sugar daddy on board.

City, being typically City, have landed a sugar daddy with a catch; for it’s alleged that Doctor Thaksin Shinawatra doesn’t own his personal fortune – and his (frozen) assets were embezzled / obtained fraudulently from the people of Thailand. It’s not that simple of course, the world of politics and high finance never is. But distilling the copy written in the broad sheets, the story goes something like this. Frankie boy wanted power – so offered the agrarian masses free health care / educational provision. This he delivered, squeezing the middle classes in order to pay for it. They may, in the spirit of altruism have accepted this, were it not for the fact he (allegedly) feathered his own nest whilst doing so.

To the West Ham game, at which point I’m forced to become the ‘intrusive author’. It was about 45 minutes to KO, and I was just about to leave the regional athletics café, when there was a sudden clamour of excitement. Who should walk in, but Frankie boy himself, surrounded by bodyguards. Make of this what you will, but they weren’t the typical meat-heads you’d find outside the Piccadilly Tavern, but all smaller than him (and he ain’t big). Thaksin looked fragrant, pampered. He stopped for photographs, shook hands and chatted to supporters.  “We’ll have new players by the end of next week” he promised. I thought, does Sparky know who they are? And then he was gone, ushered into the main arena where 200 or so of his supporters had been flown in for a rally. A heated polemic then broke out in the café, between the vast majority of supporters (who’d sell their own grandmothers if it would mean getting one over United) and a few principled dissenters.

As to the match itself – 4,000 short of the psychological 40,000 barrier, and an unusually small/subdued visiting section from East London. We were good in the sunshine. Vincent Kompany impressed – an assured Distin like figure commanding the space in front of the back four. The other debutant, Tal Ben Haim looking equally assured. Johnson, Elano, and Ireland were all lively – Petrov the principle threat on the left wing. Wham were crap – catchy tunes, but no substance – Dean Ashton left to go solo up front. Once Mark Noble was sent off it was only a matter of time. Question: why didn’t they double up on Martin Petrov? One of the principal reasons we went off the boil last term, was because teams worked us out. One tight on – one covering the space in behind. Petrov then forced to knock it square inside – Stephen Ireland isn’t a natural wide right midfielder, so threat over. I know, the second and third goals were created by Ireland down the right flank, but the theory still holds good. Before that a clinical left foot strike by Daniel Sturridge. And a surreal end to the game, with ten additional minutes for the Micah Richards injury.

Even then I was thinking; SWP on the right wing – because you can’t double up on both flanks. Do that and Johnson / Elano will have a ball through the middle. That combination, and we’ll take some sides apart at Eastlands. Which brings me to my own position re Frankie boy ; deep unease, I have to say. Yet by Thursday, SWP was signed – and the balance of the team looks so much better. It’s easy to turn a blind eye, sure enough.