Month: November 2022

Qatar: #beyondsatire.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Wales have just dug out a draw against the States. But Wales do that, eh? Get outplayed and yet *find something*. And more often than not it’s the Golfing Enigma Himself, Mr G Bale Esq, who wields the silver spade. (Or o-kaay, wedge).

The other unfathomable truism – that the skipper and nonpareil would, according to custom, hardly have a meaningful touch, prior to the moment of godhood – also came to pass. The fella did nowt, before ju-ust easing his body across the defender’s incoming challenge, duly drawing enough, quasi-clumsy contact to force the decision. Bale was honestly largely ordinary (again)… but was the hero (again).

At the half, the Americans swaggered off, having delivered a consummate lesson. They were energetic, incisive and even stylish. Wales looked – or were made to look – deeply ordinary. Weah got the goal: there could have been more if the USA had found quality in the box to match the quality around the park. Players, fans and pundits of a celtic persuasion were longing for the break from about the twelfth minute, such was the mauling: *except*, of course, the second goal didn’t come… and there’s always Him.

The inevitable swap – Moore for James – changed things, as did the general lifting of the hwyl, from the Welsh. Now not only was there an outlet, there was possession and soon, hope. Who knows what Page and his staff said but within a few minutes the reds were ‘spiritually’ on the up and if not being thrillingly threatening, then at least bearing in on that US box. Extraordinarily, an equaliser felt likely.

The penalty came lateish, after a flurry or two from both sides which failed to produce the glaring opportunity to seal something. Moore should have scored with a header he simply met too hard: the USA raced in and around but rarely at Hennessey’s net. It was even, in short, in that second period. Until Gaz did his thing again.

The draw means Wales may need to be cheering the English, come Friday night. The USA may really test that Maguire/Stones combo if they show the flair and movement we saw here but Southgate’s team will be marginal favourites. Iran were so poor it’s hard to see them registering a point in the group but (with all due respect) it feels like Wales are least likely to rack up goals against them, or anyone else. Meaning the England/Wales fixture will be another one where the men in red may need to play above their capacity – and dig something out.

Here’s what happened earlier: England v Iran. And the socio-political *observations*.

Ok. It may be that a certain social medium is descending into the swamp from whence it came, only a deeper, probably more foul-smelling affair, if that’s at all possible. (A supra-Musky slew: that work?)

Maybe not, but of course in the month of #QatarWorldCup2022, sludge and slop of the moral/philosophical variety is gonna be inevitable, nevermind possible. But hey, lighten up! It may be that Infantino is to sport, to ‘gay’ness and to integrity what Elon bach is to civility, truth and Workers’ Rights. And it may be be that swamps are merging everywhere and the Orange Gibbon is back and Tesco Spicy Wedges have gone up 30p but… IT DOESN’T MATTER BECAUSE I WON TWITTER with my #beyondsatire!

*Just before* Qatar had the benefit of that deliciously mysterious off-side thang and waaaay before the ridiculous non-penalty for England after two blokes rugby-tackled Maguire and Stones, in plain sight, in the Iran box. In other words hand me the trophy and let’s be done with it. Nobody’s bothered, are they, about the actual football? And the actual football is as crassly-anarchic-in-a-bad-way as the whole god-damned concept, anyway, yeh?

EVERYTHING is #beyondsatire. Arid. The appalling, criminal indulgence and environmental disaster of it. The Fake Fans, Fake Football Culture; the half-time disappearing trick. The raw and obvious corruption. The gross incompetence as well as the world-level hypocrisy: even the legitimate stuff, the acceptable cultural differences like no beer (unless you have a monstrous wedge) have been handled with the sensitivity and intelligence of an Orange Gibbon. I was going to watch none of it. But then work was cancelled, so waddayadoo?

England started with impressively unconvincing ‘authority’, against an Iranian side who had boldly refrained from singing their national anthem. (They win my Actual Cup for this, on the assumption that it really was a united gesture against recent violence and oppression from their regime, but the gesture may have weighed so heavily that they could not slough away the fear – for themselves, for their families). Almost unthinkably, in terms of pure footie – yeh, I know! – Iran were almost certainly worse than Qatar.

Trippier and Saka could be weirdly displacing easy-peasy passes. Maguire and Stones could look cool-but-also-ready-to-spring-an ut-ter-howler. It didn’t matter. England didn’t need to find their flow – got nowhere near it – until their third goal went in. (And no I don’t care if that sounds daft: the performance was somehow a tad invertebrate, again and if I was Southgate I’d be having words about consistency and ‘bloody execution’, at the half: even three-nil up).

All the goals were good: Bellingham’s looping nod; Saka’s flush drive; Sterling’s sharp prod from Kane’s fabulous, whipped cross. But in every square yard of the pitch there seemed to be a bloke in red failing to do his job. England had space to play, time to play and – it very soon became obvious – little to fear. Southgate’s side, despite this open invitation to enjoy and express, were again that mixture of brightness and infuriatingly one-paced ‘approach play’. They approached mainly by polite request, written in triplicate. Maguire played some wonder-passes but together with Stones and Trippier he rarely stirred the action. Bellingham was looking silky as always but not much of consequence was being threaded into midfield and on from there: not snappily and smartly. Mount does all that but barely had an intervention. As a consequence, Iran could endure – were allowed to.

Even when the goals started to happen, English energy and concentration levels were mixed. Too many simple passes were missing their mark: only Kane seemed determined and able to make every contribution count. Overwhelmingly the possession of the pill was with the fellas in white. So where were Sterling and Mount, for half the match? Making quietly ineffective runs. Making quietly ineffective wall-passes backwards.

This may feel like it under-appreciates England, and the alleged complexities of international football. But I stick by it. Iran were miserable (I’m afraid) and it seems crazy that it wasn’t til the leggy dynamism of Rashford and the old-school centre-forwardism of Wilson was introduced that Southgate’s team roared again. The United striker grabbed a neat goal with his third touch and Grealish was gifted a tap-in by Wor Callum’s generous assist.

Saka’s game was encapsulated by his second goal; he ran forward with thinnish control and confidence, scuffed his shot but in it went. He was subbed and he will rightly play next time: but I hope somebody’s showing him video and stats around his contributions. Far too many are sloppy for a player of his qualities.

Iran scored two (somehow, late-on) but conceded six. Dreamland and yet not, for England. Stones hauling down his oppo to give away a pen may have felt wildly ironic, given the early ridicu-grapple-which-came-to-naught. But it was dumb… and the decision was right. Amongst his justifiably constructive appreciations for the fine goals and largely serene domination, Mr Southgate will be having words about that concession. The gaffer will know that drift and slackness will draw punishment.

Wales v USA is where this group starts. England, having plainly started well, need to extend beyond, prove they are better. Because they are.

Pic from BBC Sport.

Can’t wait.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

About noon. Seen six minutes of highlights so this qualifies me. I can blast away, like Hales and Buttler, confident in the knowledge that my opining is shining and query-proof. Especially as you lot can’t be arsed (allegedly) to think beyond counter-bawls, which don’t count, or only count on the Twitters.

England smash – I said SMASH – India, in a remarkably one-sided semi that took expectation round the back there and gave it a damn good hiding.

After the bowlers had contained a medium-tepid Indian effort, the dreamy England skipper and his extravagantly-levered and levering compadre, Mr Hales, dismissed the much-vaunted Shami, Singh and co with a measure of contempt. Hales was again so shockingly brilliant that it is believed that Eoin Morgan has, in tribute, withdrawn his own membership of the Mild-Mannered Jacket-Wearing Crypto-Fascist War-on-Drugs Party and headed to the nearest tattoo parlour. Halesy is whatsapping over the wording any mo but it’s reported to be ‘recreational is cool, bro’, across the wingspan of a circling hawk.

Before I raced off to work – grimace emoji – I had heard England had chosen to field. I pushed it a little, then, to actually watch the first two overs, before booting off to enchant Year Six (x 2, local state school) with ‘balance and control challenges’ and the River Crossing game from #realPE. (Went great, thanks for asking. But, as per, I *really was* twitching the coaching antennae towards the activity in front: meaning I didn’t think about The Cricket ’til about 10.55… when an 11 am finish was confirmed as entirely viable. At which point I broke the land speed record – just joshing, occifer – between Neyland and Nolton Haven).

I HEARD, on the radio. Talksport. The news primer, at a handful of minutes after 11, was ‘that it’s all over, in Australia’. But did that mean good or bad news, for us Poms?

My first thought was ‘ah. Bugger’. Surely they would break this with a ‘fabulous England go through’ vibe, if they’d won? And bugger – “all over?” I’d imagined getting home for the last handful of overs. More headlines and more ads later they lead again with a rather understated “the World Cup Final will be Pakistan versus England”… and I throttle back, from the 78, to take that in. They’ve only gone and done it!

This is the harbinger of gleefully raised eyebrows but also existential crises about whether to divert, in my ecstasy-but-raging-hunger and gather-in a lamb and mint pasty and a hot chocolate – in short GO REALLY MAD – or drive on, towards yaknow – coverage. Mid-quandary, more info comes in: a TEN WICKET WIN. Hales and Buttler both 80-odd! Forgive me but there was now gleeful swearing in a “fuck-me-sideways” kindofaway, before I drove on.

Now I’m reflecting, whilst cruising through the Pembrokeshire lanes. Ten wickets. So Singh, Shami, Ashwin’ Kumar never got a sniff! Bloo-dee No-ra! Bet Hales was hauling them all over. OOOh, and whattabout a the final? Pakistan? Why is it I’m thinking most of England and Wales wants or wanted Pakistan to win it – or maybe the Kiwis? – if England (& Wales) don’t? Wossalldatabart? But who cares? Model final. Onwards: mind that bloody puddle, it’s about two feet deep.

I get back and check out brief, i-player highlights, after seeing the Sky Sports prog is back on at 3pm. And now I look at the scorecard.

I see Virat went well but that India trundled too long – nearer 6 an over than the 8-plus they surely needed – for extended periods. However well England bowled or however challenging the conditions might have been, that mindset felt too conservative. Batting first, against this England? Not enough; not enough intent, or gambling, or fearlessness. Some of that stuff… but not enough. Because you know even an England that’s not really convinced in the tournament will really go. They’ve brought in Salt, for Malan, which if anything is gonna raise the levels of violence. In this moment, this England is going to attack hard and sustain that onslaught. You – India – are going to have to think ten and over for lots of overs.

Just seen some comments from Moeen, on Rashid. Hope it’s true that he was brilliant again. Rate the thinking around having three very different spin options, in the England side. A rare, joyous luxury that two of them are potentially sensational, spirit-hiking, match-winning bats. (And Rashid has his moments of defiant excellence, too).

Have expressed some doubts, historically about Woakes and Jordan. Am genuinely an enormous fan of both, for their multifarious, legitimate skills but had/have a slight fear they may be relatively hittable, at the very highest levels of this format. Long may they prove me wrong. I repeat that I love Woakes’ all-round contribution and Jordan’s very real pace and unsurpassable fielding: just have a hunch that somebody may be able to really get hold of them, at a crucial time, when they have ball in hand.

‘Getting ahead’, this performance will and should make England favourites, if not bookies’ favourites, for the final. The universal presentiment will be that Buttler’s got his fellas peaking with spectacular timing. The balance and richness of the England side is beginning to look ‘destined’.

Without Topley and Wood, they are still bloody tasty, as the annihilation of India proves. We’ve long-known that Buttler himself is touched by something special. Many of us think his partner Hales may previously have been excluded for too long and out of some slightly weird, possibly cliquey conservatism as much as for ‘disciplinary reasons’. Now he’s here, doing what he’s done for aeons – smashing the best bowlers on the planet around, like they’re Under 13s.

Was going to rumble on about Curran and the benefits of having seven bowlers and eleven blokes who can all strike a ball, in the team. But superfluous. You will already be aware that my post-match analysis is as all-consumingly magnificent as England are, in flow.

Can’t wait to see the game.

Pic from Sky Sports.

Ok. Now watched extended highlights. Maybe I under-appreciated Kohli & Pandya’s aggression? But stand by that general accusation that India were too pedestrian (relatively, obvs) for too long. Were they over-confident or just a tad culturally cautious? Or nervous?!! Nasser, on comms, has just noted the disparity in their scoring rate for the first 12-15 overs and the last, exhilarating knockings.

The England reply started with 3 boundaries in the first over: Buttler making that mark. Onwards, then, to 33 for 0 after 3 and 63 without loss after 6 – at a time when Pandya and Kohli were extravagantly cajoling the crowd into distracting or intimidating the batters… because England were cruising.

Hales gets to his fifty off 28 balls. Buttler is similarly keen – it’s relentless, ten an over stuff. At times it feels like a piss-take: dancing and scooping or standing and clouting to short or long boundary. Harsha Bogle is in mild shock. One straight drive, hoisted off Shami by Buttler, registered heavily it seemed with the commentary team, the crowd, and the TV-watching zillions, like some notably awesome statement of superiority. And of course Buttler goes and finishes it with another rapturously sweet swing: six, over long on.

Done in 16 overs. 168 chased. Ten wicket win. India were 113 for 3 at the equivalent stage. Massacre, in terms of this format. Interesting to hear Buttler speak so articulately about the freedom that England’s endless batting line-up offers himself and Hales. They can go hard: they did.

Swallow.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Would like to write a furious, sweary and dangerously superior blog about the World Cup – the football one. Despite being neck-deep in the #T20WorldCup in Australia and increasingly captivated by the Women’s Rugby World Cup, New Zealand.

This in itself says something about football’s evil clout: it’s ability to swamp all known reason as well as the mere expedition of human activity. (Yup. All of it). Soccer is both the Beautiful Game and the Shit-vessel Supreme, especially the administration, the market side of it. Like one of those forest (and Forest People)-munching machines from Avatar, the game devours us; our ability to think, judge, act with any semblance of decency and intelligence being swept away in a roar of metal and sap.

A sociological (and therefore potentially wokeish) diversion. Could be that our propensity for tribal excitement leaves us particularly vulnerable to exploitation. In fact that would surely go out under ‘raging certainty’ on Bet365, or one of the other scavengers circling the soul of footie. The ‘bad side’ to visceral/communal joy is… it maybe dislodges other faculties. The thought striketh that governments and other makers of mischief may have cottoned-on, to this weakness.

We had Russia and now we have Qatar. Both monsters,* both benefiting from entirely predictable corruption, swilling through the posh hotels and swanky offices of the ‘football authorities’. A few voices were raised – indeed this post is a direct response to yet another magnificent and (in a good way) righteously challenging column from the Guardian’s Barney Ronay – but they/we (as we all know) will be drowned-out by the ubiquitous sludge that is PR/developing content/sportswashing. Those Who Govern feel like Untouchables because they are: money, influence and our feeble acquiescence will see them alright, and they know this.

Which brings me to two stories, from recent days. Most distressingly, the ‘fringe’ report that elements of state security in Qatar had drawn-in then shockingly violated gay men so as to send out a warning to World Cup visitors: ‘don’t you dare be who you are, on our territory’. Secondly, the widely-reported recruitment of the England Band and Welsh equivalent(ish) to a sort of metaphorical Qatari Cheerleaders Squad.

Go find the first story – there may be important updates. It’s appalling and it should be a game-changer (ironies alert!) in terms of how we all view the tournament. In short I think that if vindicated, it should prompt MASSIVE DISSENT and lurch us into significant boycott territory. (Personally, I think we should have steadfastly occupied that ground – i.e no f**king World Cup in Qatar, end-of – since day one).

The England Band buy-out is almost funny. Except that I think we should find them, slam them in stocks at St George’s Park and lustily launch any available rotting fruit (and maybe orange paint). Fellas, you might think you are being cute, merely extending the repertoire of your slightly middle-class playfulness, but no. You are t**ts of a very high order. Shameless, brainless, conscienceless t**ts. Same for you taffs.

Shame on you. Even if you try to subvert the Qatari bribe by effecting some miniscule ‘protest’, before being gathered in and having your temporary privileges withdrawn, shame on you. You have personally taken the sportswashing phenomenon to the next level; allowing a nation-state to shaft you, your integrity and the gullible universe in a spectacular new way. In a foul country where a very particular crew have their hands on the hereditary/oligarchal purse-strings, you are the cheapest of puppets.

Deep breath and re-compose. Look I get that we are all prostitutes. But c’mon, guys. Is that complimentary bar and are those flickering freebies really worth it? To guarantee your behaviour and support… for this project? When every man jack of us knows it’s abhorrent on every account? Fraudulent. Scene of multiple human rights/workers’ rights abuses. Crap-but-disturbing, phoney, film-location vibe. A hypocrisy-fest, hosted by a merciless, misogynist state, in spanking-new but heartless stadia because there’s no existing football culture whatsoever!

Won’t be long before somebody leaks or gets hold of the Conditions of Employment for our musical friends. That should be instructive. How, exactly, was this wee bit of sports massage supposed to remain un-reported? Who, in the Qatari/FIFA Department of Further Illusions thought this baby would pass un-commented-upon?

The answer of course is that they know it doesn’t matter. The volume of Fabulous New Content and frothing, insatiable love for the game is such that this further corruption – for that’s what it IS, right? – will barely register. The Lads from Merthyr and Mansfield may have Pied-Pipered us somewhere yet more cynical but who cares? The World Cup is still coming to swallow us up.

*Fully accept the Western View of Putin’s Russia and the opaque Qatari state system are deeply compromised by misinformation and prejudice from our side. The following can both be true: that we are relatively clueless… but the regimes really are heinous and grotesque.