I Shouldn't Gloat...but I will

In England this past weekend, the quarterfinal matches of the F.A. Cup were played out on multiple and diverse pitches. For those of us who watched our clubs plummet out of the competition, there seemed little of interest in the fixture list which pitted a couple of championship sides against a pair of remaining Premier League squads, a lower league knockdown-drag out-back-alley style brawl, and an enticing Prem. v. Prem. game which most certainly had our own benny c fluctuating in waves of excitement and dread (that is, if his mild depression of late over the loss of a certain number 4 of the green and gold persuasion had finally abated enough for him to resume normal activity/inactivity). This last match certainly had my attention, as it pitted the bitter rivals of my beloved LFC, Manchester United, against the titans of the south coast, Portsmouth. I had everything going for me in this one, a vested interest on behalf of a buddy and a seething antipathy for their overly-glorified opposition, and at Old Trafford no less. Needless to say, but my affections were overwhelmingly in favor of Pompey, those wacky port-towners.

The game itself was a great watch, despite what so many ignorant footy-haters say about 1-0 matches that are decided late on. There were goal line clearances, superb shots followed by stunning saves, committed defensive displays (which was a bit surprising given some rather lackluster displays by the Portsmouth back line in the League), and plenty of talking points regarding refereeing decisions. In the end, Pompey snuck away victorious and based solely on the match action, the result matched the play on the pitch. This may seem overstated, as United controlled the vast majority of the game, but Pompey’s timely and steadfast defending deserved, at the very least, a clean sheet. Based on the last ditch efforts and the manner in which the Portsmouth defense continued to block shots and attacking moves, they deserved no less than a replay and instead got the bit of good fortune they needed to dispatch the Red Devils on their home pitch for the first time since 1957. The defending was such that no Man of the Match could be singled out from the back line. Instead, the match ball should be shared by Glen Johnson, Sylvain Distin, Sol Campbell, Hermann Hreidarsson, Lassana Diarra, and my favorite name to say, Papa Bouba Diop. Of course, Sulley Muntari does deserve a great bit of credit for finishing a result well earned with yet another powerful, yet coolly taken penalty. Said penalty was earned after former Red, Milan Baros, broke in on goal, only to be felled by United’s back-up keeper Tomasz Kuszczak. While I can agree that this could easily have not been called, United have always seemed to benefit from questionable decisions. For this LFC supporter, the irony and the resulting Alex Ferguson tirade/tantrum, were just too delicious for words. Congratulations to Pompey. The road to the final has been thinned.

This thinning of the top tier of the field was done by Robbie Fowler’s (known simply as God by all Liverpool supporters) new club Cardiff City, who dispatched Middlesbrough fairly competently with two splendid goals; one after some deft maneuvering and a stupendous finish by Peter Whittingham and the other from a dead ball crossed by Whittingham and headed home by Roger Johnson. And these two goals within 25 minutes after kick-off held up, as the Bluebirds sent Boro home nursing a 2-0 defeat. The others of the two Premiership sides to fall at the hands of Championship opposition were the mighty billionaires of Chelsea F.C. They, like the Reds, tumbled out of the competition at the hands of Barnsley (who shall now be known as David, slayer of GoliathS). It was a tough match on an unfavorable pitch at the home of Barnsley, Oakwell Stadium, but there were ample opportunities for the Blues to dispatch the plucky Championship outfit. Just like United however, a wealth of chances resulted in a dearth of goals and now Chelsea find themselves relegated to watching the Cup Final on the tele with the rest of the “Big Four”.

And now I must restate: THIS IS WHY THE F.A. CUP IS THE BEST DOMESTIC CUP COMPETITION IN THE WORLD.

What a great weekend.

Summary and Preview: Sport for a teasipper

Tiger Woods played his second tournament in two weeks. Though the most recent tournament was half a world away from the site of his first PGA Tour victory of the season, the result was much the same. Tiger left with another trophy in tow. I’m as shocked as you are! Alright, laying this bit of sarcasm aside, Tiger’s latest triumph came as part of the European Tour’s Middle East swing, in the affluent country of UAE. He started well enough, shooting 65 on his first day and showing no signs of jetlag. The next two days were not as kind to Tiggy, shooting 71 and 73 in some slightly adverse conditions, his first rounds not in the sixties since he traded in his Huggies for big boy Pull-ups. I can’t seem to help myself with this sarcasm, must be the fact that I haven’t seen the sun since…..goddamnit, the fact that I can’t even remember should serve as evidence that my brain is now mush thanks to a lack of essential nutrients produced only after my cocoa brown skin soaks up sunlight like a loofah that absorbs water, yet is never saturated. Enough. Anyways, Tiger finished the tourney with a flourish, shooting a 65 and finishing his final round with a 25 ft. birdie putt. He posted the number and waited as Ernie Els, trailing by one shot after Tiger’s final hole heroics, proceeded to spray his drives all over the desert and, more crassly, crap down his pantleg like the Cubs’ pitching staff in last year’s playoffs. Woods gladly accepted this fat paycheck (along with the “undisclosed” appearance fee) and trophy and hopped his jet back stateside. My question for discussion is this: is Tiggy the best clutch performer in the history of sport? I know, MJ should be in the discussion and so too should Steven Gerrard (and maybe Josh Beckett?), but considering the way he consistently does what’s necessary to either snatch a victory or stave off a charging foe, does anyone really compare, especially when what he does is so difficult (chipping in, long birdie putts, sticking a 3 iron as if it was a pitching wedge)?

Speaking of clutch performers, J.B. Holmes birdied his final hole at the FBR Open in Scottsdale to force a playoff with former Sun Devil and local favorite, Phil Mickelson. On the first playoff hole, Holmes labeled a 359 yard drive over all of the hazards to set up a delicate 72 yard pitch and proceeded to birdie the 18^th again. It was his second birdie on that hole in 45 minutes, after not managing that score in the three previous rounds. What is most impressive, besides that drive, was that he did not play great golf throughout the round. Many players made the push to post a low number and wait for the leaders to falter. Briny Baird put together a hell of a round (and ditched the straw hat, I might add) posting the best round on a day where more than few players went pin-hunting and succeeded in getting some good Sunday rounds under their belts. But it was Holmes who was able to keep a bad round from spiraling out of control, maintaining his position in the hunt for the title right until his putt on the 72nd hole. It was a great showing and a tremendous victory for the basher from Kentucky.

On a whole new subject now, the Reds of Liverpool travel south to London to visit the fortress of the Chelsea F.C. Blues, Stamford Bridge (I know, I can’t help but boo when I hear their name either). The Bridge has proved to be an incredibly difficult ground for any opponents to snag points. As I mentioned in a previous post, Avram Grant has them playing disciplined football, with great defensive presence and awareness. Even without big names like John Terry, Frank Lampard, and Didier Drogba, the Blues are playing a very open and attacking style, while still maintaining said defensive strength. Also, the Blues have yet to lose on their home ground in 77 consecutive matches. These two teams have met on no less than 16 occasions in various competitions over the last 3 years, with the Reds getting the better of Chelsea in two very notable European Cup semi-finals. Earlier this season, Rob Styles was suspended by the governing body of the match officials, after a horrific penalty decision against Liverpool’s Steve Finnan allowed the Blues to sneak off with a grossly undeserved point. The Reds must have vengeance in their minds and fire in their belly if they expect to end the Blues’ home domination. It could only help the confidence of the Redmen if another tie goes to London in either the F.A. or European Cups further down the road (but that is getting a bit ahead). In a very big month which sees Champions League football return to the docket and more F.A. Cup and Premier League clashes to fight through, a big win Sunday would do wonders, pulling Liverpool F.C. out of the slump in form from which they have suffered since ringing in the new year. Unfortunately, the news is that Fernando Torres may not play in Sunday’s fixture after picking up a hamstring injury while on international duty. Hopefully it’s not serious. In their earlier clash, Torres shredded Tal Ben-Haim and placed a beautiful shot around Petr Cech at the Anfield Road end, marking his first goal of many during his first campaign in English football. I was hoping for an even more convincing display this go around. Please be fit for the game Fernando. PLEASE!

As for Portsmouth, a great showing against Chelsea last weekend saw them take their first points off the Londoners in the history of the club. It was a well deserved point, if not a couple points dropped, as new signing Jermain Defoe netted his first for Pompey and could nearly have had a second, but missed on all three of his late game chances. The south coasters have also benefited from the transfer signing of Lassana Diarra, who had a brilliant game against the Blues. His deft touches and powerful shot will certainly thrill the Pompey faithful. The former Chelsea and Arsenal man looks to be a tremendous signing by the men at the top and already has Droopy Dog (Harry Redknapp) glowing over the impact Diarra can make. Throw in the sensational form of Niko Kranjcar, and in spite of the absences of many members of the squad still on African Cup of Nations duty, Portsmouth look to take three points off Bolton Wanderers in their away clash at the weekend. Finally, some good news coming out of Fratton Park for Benny C. Play up Pompey, Pompey play up.

the big rabbit gets fucked...

..is the bet this weekend as the reds of liverpool storm fratton park at the top of the premiership table. in the first half of the season, i doubt pompey will face a match with such dramatic implications.

a fixture that has already served matches against manchester and recent away losses to chelsea and arsenal becomes even more difficult this weekend. the week off should serve portsmouth well as the arsenal was riven with sloppy defense and a short-footed line-up. the result thus far, while not surprising, are not entirely encouraging either. as it stands, pompey sit just below the middle of the table and have shown a little bit of everything. regardless, a more consistently solid performance over the course of the season will be required in order to qualify to the european championship next year, especially with strong starts from manchester city, everton, and blackburn.

a win against liverpool is a catalyst for a carling cup run and confidence against the next (somewhat softer) leg of the schedule. a draw allows the pack to separate itself from pompey and a loss is a potentially demoralizing way to open the first month (1-3-2). the talent of the squad should warrant a better standing, even given the degree of difficulty in their match-ups thus far.

the blackguards are at the gate and the team must view this battle as a struggle where survival is the prize of the day and scalps and teeth are the trophies. for me, the humble reward of laying a twenty-spot on 4:1 odds is sufficient to make for a promising saturday.

the proverbial man and the hour will meet in less than a day to the sound of chimes and a horrid cacophony of steel, wood, and women screaming that should not be mistaken for the result of regurgitated irish breakfast and bloody marys. it will be redknapp's henchmen making sherman's neckties out of the rails that have, thus far, carried the irresistible force that is the reds to an unbeaten record (i know, so vivid).


make tracks, pompey. or i'm out a periwinkle blue caravan.

pompey - 2, reds - nil.