Long, long before most of you were born, there was an Olympic swimmer from a small European country once, who stood tearily on the podium after winning an unlikely triad of Olympic swimming medals. There were cheers but mixed slightly with dark murmurings. Back then, some people grimaced. The athlete in second place felt they deserved the prize. If the rumours were true and X had won purely from the quality of chemicals, and Y had not imbibed, you can understand how bitter a pill that was to swallow. Jose Mourhino must feel some of the same emotions today.
He has just delivered for Manchester United. He brought in youth; he persevered with Pogba in the mission to create a midfield where none had existed before. Having bypassed the heart of the attack in 2017 by using Zlatan, this season he had to improvise a way to win a title with a cluster of misfiring strikers, as he tried to rewire Sanchez in mid-race to fit his plan. In the end he has outdone himself, and accumulated more points than an excellent Spurs team, and the Pool of Mo Salah.
If this had been an ordinary season we would have concentrated on the remarkable drama of the relegation battle; it would have been a routine title win for Mourhino MU, with some discussion on the lines of 'ok, but can he do it playing champagne football?'. Instead, the effervessence came from the Emptyhad, courtesy of the most money-doped team in Premiership - or English football - history. Like drunken revellers we stagger from the romance that was Leicester to this loud and tone-deaf glitz, a title in name only; oil smudged fingers on the PL trophy. Would City have won in a fair race, limited to City earnings? No chance.
Fair play to Pep (I will wear whatever ribbon I like, and the FA will do sweet FA), he has shown that money talks. And he has shown how to play an enchanting brand of attacking football. And what will happen next year? I am not expecting any reform, or even any clamour for it; the FA don't care, and most of the Caf were too preoccupied with slagging off Smalling. Manchester United will be forced to spend big. People will have to play kamikaze against them, the fire-with-fire treatment pointed out by Klopp, perhaps mixed with a bit of smother and bludgeon, the Jose formula. It will not be all bad. It will without a doubt improve the overall quality of play, bringing a bit of EU entertainment value to the UK as it dusts off its hat and puts on its (hard or soft-lined) coat.
The field will be distorted, again, by being overheated by massive investment from earnings that have nothing at all to do with football, and much to do with ugly exploitation. Think of it as a handicap. We end up with a great rivalry, we end up with a massive competition. Forget not cheering on Liverpool; the main thing is for the rest of the league to come together to frustrate the Oil Money Men and the Tie a Yellow Ribbon football visionary. Imagine the thrill of beating them, by any means necessary within the rules of the game (Caftards take note). Otherwise we should start here advocating for a second premiership; one for teams who win with their own money, earned from football; maybe we could call it the Arsene and Fergie cup.
He has just delivered for Manchester United. He brought in youth; he persevered with Pogba in the mission to create a midfield where none had existed before. Having bypassed the heart of the attack in 2017 by using Zlatan, this season he had to improvise a way to win a title with a cluster of misfiring strikers, as he tried to rewire Sanchez in mid-race to fit his plan. In the end he has outdone himself, and accumulated more points than an excellent Spurs team, and the Pool of Mo Salah.
If this had been an ordinary season we would have concentrated on the remarkable drama of the relegation battle; it would have been a routine title win for Mourhino MU, with some discussion on the lines of 'ok, but can he do it playing champagne football?'. Instead, the effervessence came from the Emptyhad, courtesy of the most money-doped team in Premiership - or English football - history. Like drunken revellers we stagger from the romance that was Leicester to this loud and tone-deaf glitz, a title in name only; oil smudged fingers on the PL trophy. Would City have won in a fair race, limited to City earnings? No chance.
Fair play to Pep (I will wear whatever ribbon I like, and the FA will do sweet FA), he has shown that money talks. And he has shown how to play an enchanting brand of attacking football. And what will happen next year? I am not expecting any reform, or even any clamour for it; the FA don't care, and most of the Caf were too preoccupied with slagging off Smalling. Manchester United will be forced to spend big. People will have to play kamikaze against them, the fire-with-fire treatment pointed out by Klopp, perhaps mixed with a bit of smother and bludgeon, the Jose formula. It will not be all bad. It will without a doubt improve the overall quality of play, bringing a bit of EU entertainment value to the UK as it dusts off its hat and puts on its (hard or soft-lined) coat.
The field will be distorted, again, by being overheated by massive investment from earnings that have nothing at all to do with football, and much to do with ugly exploitation. Think of it as a handicap. We end up with a great rivalry, we end up with a massive competition. Forget not cheering on Liverpool; the main thing is for the rest of the league to come together to frustrate the Oil Money Men and the Tie a Yellow Ribbon football visionary. Imagine the thrill of beating them, by any means necessary within the rules of the game (Caftards take note). Otherwise we should start here advocating for a second premiership; one for teams who win with their own money, earned from football; maybe we could call it the Arsene and Fergie cup.
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