Are you 6 months away from the sack??

Poor Mark Hughes. Just as he was plodding along at a turtles pace, slowly but surely racking up a healthy amount of draws, which he claims would keep his side on the righteous path to 70 points, he falls victim to the first major managerial decapitation, from an axed that had been sharpened since the summer.















Regardless of the money spent, $125m in all, and whether Hughes' claim that he was on target to reach the goals already agreed upon with his wealthy employers, the dismissal, and the resulting shit storm of PR that followed makes me wince with embarrassment at the thought that this is our beloved football we are talking about, and not the personal diaries of an ungrateful millionaire brat who didn't get his Premier League Crown underneath the Christmas tree.

I can not decide what is more obscene, the amount of money spent on building the Manchester City squad, or the fact that while the spending was taking place, Garry Cook was already exploring "contingencies" in the event he would need another sap, fluent in spending money by the truck load come boxing day sales? Could it be, that at this very moment while I ignorantly tap away on my lap top, that potential suitors to my job are being courted? Should I have devoted the last 6 months to overtime in favour of literary exploits? Are you in danger of being replaced even as you read this? Providing your not employed by impatient billionaires, or woefully incompetent, then your probably safe. You can continue to read on, but don't say I didn't warn you.

Garry Cook's dire treatment of Hughes, and his naive handling of the resulting public relations, has made me harbour an unhealthy, and somewhat unwarranted personal resentment towards Hughes' replacement, Roberto Mancini. I actually want him to fail. Its rare for me to wish such bad fortune on someone I have no prior report with, for all I know Roberto might be a bloody good bloke, and I have become some what use to the Italian Renaissance English Football is going through of late, but the way the way in which Manchester City are going about their inheritance in such an undignified manner, has inadvertently put Mancini on a wobbly perch that I am willing him to fall off.

Who knows, by the time the transfer window reopens in January for Roberto Mancini to skip in to the wilderness, and blissfully go about spending his Christmas money, like a boy that could afford the whole sweet shop, maybe Garry Cook will be doing his due diligence by looking at potential replacements for Roberto at the end of the year, if he has failed to perform miracles. By which point I will probably have grown fond of Roberto and forgotten all of my resentment and instead will be moaning about another manager dismissal.

Who'd be a Football Manager, at least of all, during Christmas time? Could we be in for more of my bleeding heart and violins sob story on boxing day if Rafa doesn't get a "must win" against Wolves? All I want for Christmas is three points Rafa.

Blatter has only got one ball......

.......The other is bashfully knocking around the empty terraces of Croke Park.

Treading on dangerous ground, crudely adapting a rhyme about Hitler to that of beleaguered FIFA president, Sepp Blatter. Blatter can barely spin the politics of kicking a ball around a grass pitch let alone mass genocide.

Instead, what I am referring to in using the rhyme, is Blatter's lack of minerals. Following, the Republics controversial defeat to France last month, after Thierry Henry's handball assist, secured his nations place in next years World Cup, FIFA and the footballing world in general was once again under the spot light over how to manage blatant injustices, the implications of which can decide the fate of whether your nation competes in the World Cup or not.

For me, the solution to the problem is simple. Video replays. I'm sure there are plenty of arguments against this, such as it will slow down the flow of the game, and I would counter that simply with the fact that when there is so much at stake, and an extreme amount of pressure on officials, accuracy and integrity trumps time delays. I will save the other arguments for another day.

But, for as long as the governing bodies preside over what to do, they will continue to find themselves cleaning up their self imposed problems. I never really believed or expected anything to come of the injustice that quashed Irish hearts, and I also refuse to blame Henry's hand of Judas as a scapegoat. Long gone are the days of gracious sportsmanship, and, honestly, had I been in the same situation as Henry, I wouldn't have exactly been vigorously chasing the ref to give honest testimony over my fortuitous actions. As I said, despite sitting pretty on my moral high ground, I to fall short of sporting conduct from yesteryear. I would, however admit the offense and be in favour of a replay. All of which Henry eventually did.

Even the French felt the injustice, and felt little honour in qualifying in such controversial circumstances. So, back to Blatter and his minerals, or lack their of. While the Republic, and France to a lesser extent, exercised the idea of a replay, or an extra ball in the World Cup draw, FIFA sat on its hands and offered "moral compensation" as their pitiful solution. I can just imagine it now, Robbie Keane down on one knee gratefully accepting some shiny plaque as scant consolation, while Blatter and Platini look on in admiration of another job neatly swept under the red carpet of South Africa.

Following the painfully dull World Cup draw, throwing in an extra ball for Ireland, just to make the numbers odd would have offered some excitement, purely to see logistically how it would have been handled. Given that my nation, England, are not only in the World Cup, but have also landed a favourable group, I should be buoyed with excitement. But, being English, I have pessimism ingrained to my soul, which enables to me turn any group we happen to land in, as the now customary tournament "group of death". Portugal and Brazil? Nah, Algeria and Slovenia look far more worrisome.

So, being resigned to imminent disappointment no matter who was drawn, having Ireland thrown in to the mix, while the likes of Charlize Theron laboriously plucked out balls at random would have been a welcome distraction to a World Cup draw that otherwise invoked little enthusiasm. It too would have shown that FIFA are capable of solving problematic issues, instead of ignoring them until the next controversy rears its ugly head.

The World Cup is now "only" some 180 odd days away, which seems like a life time to me, but maybe in the mean time, Blatter and the powers that be in FIFA can proactively find a solution before the next big injustice is served. And, given my stated pessimism, I believe there is about as much chance of that happening as there ever was of Ireland reaching the World Cup, once Henry handed another rubix cube to the desk of Sepp Blatter.

Fionn MacCool's Celtic: A feast fit for a champion

Just as writers for the Simpson's get lazy when a milestone is reached by hashing episodes together, I thought I would follow suit and compile the most influential parts of Celtic's season, that leads a path from preseason young pretenders to matured TSSL Media League Champions.

AS Rosso Roasted
25th May 2009

AS Rosso were making their debut in the TSSL Media League, but Celtic were not to be in charitable mood, placing a solid maker in the soil on the opening day, after a 5-2 victory, with a hatrick by Teague to boast. The game also marked the first broadcasting of Celtic, after a lucrative deal was struck with local studio, McGroarty Pictures. And, if you haven't become tired of seeing the highlights, the video in all its HD glory can be seen here.

Celtic continued their explosive start to the campaign the following week after the demolition of another new arrival in the TSSL media league, Trinity Park 10-1. The debutantes went on to be the whipping boys of the league, conceding a colossal 135 goals in 18 games.


Fionn MacCool's Celtic 0-3 KU Golden Oldies
20th June 2009

After going 5 games unbeaten in the league, the defeat to KU Golden Oldies brought Celtics sky high ambitions, crashing back down to earth. Such was the sobering effect of the disappointing defeat, I personally took a leave of absence from writing, taking physiological refuge for a week until I had something worthy of writing about. Which, basically explains the lack of match report for this one.

This may have been Celtics first defeat of the season, but it was also possibly the catalyst for motivation later in the season, when Celtic faced KU Golden Oldies in what was a must win game.

Sierra Stars 0-1 Fionn MacCool's Celtic
11th July 2009

After the humbling defeat to KU Golden Oldies, Celtic feeling sorry for themselves went through their roughest patch of the season, following up the 3-0 loss, with a draw against Morton 1-all, and then another defeat to Multinational. Given Celtic's self imposed high standards, training schedules were doubled and diet's strictly monitored, in the lead up to the game against old foe, Sierra Stars. After only losing two games in the league all last season, the pressure was on, and despite what the score line might suggest, this was a cracker.

Suspicion regarding Celtics finishing qualities were immediately raised, from the moment Curley had the nerve to pull out the his new orange/salmon coloured boots from his kit bag. However, after reluctantly switching back to the old familiar, more conservative white boots in the second half, Curley and Celtic soon had something to shout about.

After Celtic were awarded a rare freekick dangerously positioned on the corner of the Sierra box, the set piece was whipped in to the danger area, and Curley, with his shooting boots back on, effortlessly plucked the ball out of the air with his back to goal, pirouetted and ruthlessly smashed home a priceless goal in front of the ecstatic crowd.

The joy was short lived however, only moments after the goal, Celtic were down to 10 men. Mercier, who's must have been effected by the Salmon coloured boots, leaped like one, and tipped over the bar after Fourie was caught off his line.

The drama was not to end their though. The resulting penalty was saved by wobbly legs Fourie, whom would go on to thwart in the region of five more penalties over the course of the season. (citation needed!) The result also saw the start of a phenomenal run for Celtic, which would see them go the rest of the season unbeaten in their 12 remaining games, conceding only 6 goals.

Sierra's Fallen Stars
Fionn MacCool's Celtic 1-1 Zoomer
18 July 2009

With the effects of the Garbage strike in full swing, Celtic unfortunately had to cater for two games in one weekend. The first, was against Zoomer, which was drawn 1-1. And, while from the outside this fixture might look mundane and not worthy of mention, it gained a position amongst the elite for 3 reasons. 1, it gave birth to what would go on to be an infamous quote of the season, "Don't do a Zoomer". 2, after being the better team for virtually the entire game, Celtic were 1-0 down and staring at defeat with only minutes on the clock, until Peter McCann on his debut scored a crucial goal and rescued a invaluable point. 3, Such was the shambolic performance, the resulting, thorough, dressing down speech from manager Tibby, which at times looked like it might bring grown men to a whimpering mess, galvanised Celtic for what would prove to be unrecognizable performance against Sierra Stars the following day.

Fionn MacCool's Celtic 3-1 Sierra Stars
19th July 2009

I could go on and on at length about the 3-1 victory over Sierra's Stars, throwing superlatives at it left right and centre, but what has to go down as one of Celtic's most impressive and important wins in living memories, was overshadowed by the way the game the game ended -a left hook to the Ref's rosey red cheek. Some might argue it was a more appropriate alternative to the traditional whistle.

KU Golden Oldies 1-5 Fionn MacCool's Celtic
22nd August 2009

In terms of performance, I personally (though this has nothing to do with the brace I scored, honest!) thought this was Celtic's most complete of the season. Every individual who showed up that day, were up for the challenge, and knew this was the moment of reckoning, when a season can be won or lost. The desire was simply far stronger, and Celtic ruthlessly demolished a side that went on to be Media Cup Champions and runners up to Celtic in the league.

Fionn MacCool's Celtic 1-0 Morton
29th August 2009

If the KU game was all about attacking flair, style and taking your chances,this once was all about Celtics defensive qualities, both in terms of thwarting Morton's predictable agricultural tactics, and doing a job at the opposite end of the field, when the forwards couldn't hit a barn door.

In season pasts, 1-nil against old rivals Morton might not have been enough to secure victory, but with Celtics water tight defense, only a lucky goal against the run of play would be Morton's escape.

Celtic failed to break the deadlock, until half way though the second half, when the defense, fittingly, took matters in to their own hands. Prior whipped in a lush cross from the right, and with a devastating drilled header, Stuckmann buried the ball in to the back of the net with the keeper rooted.

In the three fixtures Celtic contested with Morton, only on one occasion did they leak a goal. The last game may not have been the prettiest, but it was another crucial three points gained at the business end of the season. If you can win without playing well, you will always been in with a chance come trophy time. That, I believe is what Sir Alex Ferguson's philosophy is built on -least that's what United have been doing for a couple of decades! I tried to go the how article without a random United jab, I tried.

Multinational 0-1 Fionn MacCool's Celtic
12th September 2009

Again, if you were looking to give some budding youngster the opportunity to experience some top clash finishing, you would have been angrily asking for a refund with this one. A messy spill over from the previous weeks lesson on how not to finish. However, that said, the goal did come from a forward, in a matter of minutes from the kick off. A few mono eye brows were raised when Fitzpatrick's name was selected in the front line, but the silver fox repaid the faith shown in him by Manager Tibby, converting Celtics first chance of the game.

Having been picked out by a cross ball pass from Bredin, which evaded Teague's stride, Fitzpatrick found him self firmly in the whites of the on rushing keeper's eyes, with glory just around the corner. When many others would have had a rush of blood to the head, Fitzpatrick kept his cool, and exquisitely rounded the keeper and finished from such an acute angle he was practically on the byline. Given the importance of the goal, and the quality of the finish, this probably goes down as my vote for goal of the season, but keep that quite from Fitz!

Celtic would go on to win their reaming two games of the season, with comfortable victories over Globe and Mail, and Zoomer, leaving them on a impressive 40 points haul from 18 games. Despite being top of the league by one point, Celtic would have to wait two more agonizing weeks before KU GOlden Oldies played their remaining game in hand, knowing that a draw would be enough to hand them the title.

And, with Morton unwittingly assigned the task of deciding the TSSL Media Champions, turned the season on its head in the dying moments of the game, coming from 2-nil down to rescue a point and hand Celtic the Championship. An unlikely hero for Celtic, but one that will now making future encounters a fraction more bearable.

So, with Celtic lifting the Championship only four years after entering the competition, it was time to once again get the tux out and rub elbows with other fellow equals, at the annual TSSL Champions Banquet.

Expensive Champagne would only be served, and drank from the Champions cup, the food would be served on a silver platter by the white gloved hand of a waiter, that has also been through vigorous "Champion" testing to ensure that only winners served the elite, and glamorous entertainment especially flown in from Vegas would bring the night to a close. In reality, I was the only pillock in a tux, excluding the wait staff, and the food and wine was equal to its $35 a head fee. We didn't stick around to see the local Downsview pop star, as celebrating the Championship over a couple of pints of shandy seemed far more inviting.

Celtic are now already full swing into the indoor winter league, but I am sure we will all look forward to what the summer has to offer. Watch this space.

Players player of the season: Colin Prior
Managers Player of the season: Travis Fourie
Top Goal Scorer: Ray Curley
Goal of the season???......Cast your votes now.

Liver Bird Heads Buried in sand

There is only one remedy that can dull the pain of seeing your beleaguered team spluttering into disappointment before the Christmas turkey has even been plucked -denial.

When ever Liverpool have a dip in form, I find my self consciously burying my head in the sand, avoiding match reports, switching off highlights, and shunning any talk of the teams misfortune even with fellow supporters, where you would think strength would be found in numbers. No, I prefer to disconnect and basically turn into a footballing social recluse. A flawed theory of "What you don't know can't hurt you." Hence the lack of posting's here in that last few weeks. Such is my desire to be insulated by grains of sands populating every orifice in my head, before the Lyon game, I even considered doctoring the Liver birds feathered head on my Liverpool shirt, so that it to was buried in the sand. If only I could sew.

Thankfully, I didn't vandalise the shirt despite Liverpool failing to stage yet another "Cup Final" turn around after being denied by Lyon's Lisandro equaliser at the death. Being pipped at the post is difficult pill to swallow at the best of times, but these things have a tendency to coincide with a string of poor results.

While I might have my head buried in the sand in vain attempt to shelter from the down pour of bad results, I refuse to believe that Liverpool's decent into the abyss, where Champions League football is just a mythical pipe dream the other teams outside the big four can only dream about, is anything more than poor form and horrendous luck. Besides the departure of Xabi Alonso to Real Madrid in the summer, the squad is fundamentally the same set of players, the manager is still Benitez and we are still owned by Americans who put the club in to debt in order to buy it.

Alonso, while he was obviously an integral cog to Liverpool's system, can not be the sole reason the teams form has since declined. Benitez had little choice on the departure once Alonso got the call from Perez who was building another generation of Galatico's. Instead he cashed in, and got a reasonable return and replacement in Aqualani, which is the nature of football. Players come and go, teams get rebuilt. I assumed Manchester United would be lost without the fantasy league points hording Ronaldo, but they seemed to have coped. Sure, winning the league and reaching the Champions League latter stages might not be such a full gone conclusion for Sir Alex's men, but their is no sign of imminent collapse.

I thought that victory over United would be the kick start to the season Liverpool so desperately crave, only for the debacle at Fulham to unfold seven days later. The sweat over Benitez brow seemed more like beads of liquid fear being squeezed out of the Spaniards pores as the pressure intensified at Craven cottage, but I still believe Benitez can and will turn Liverpool's ailing season around. Blind faith or classic denial? You decide. Until then, I will keep my head firmly buried in sand. Pluck me out of the dunes when we beat United again.

Fat Beck's is off to South Africa

Even if David Beckham some how became obese, due to the 6 months spent on loan using the woefully inadequate training practices that 7 times European Cup winners AC Milan insist on using, I would personally mobilize the man mountain with one of those double width wheel chairs, to ensure he retains a place in England's World Cup Squad that is South Africa bound once United have predictably wrapped up the Premier League come summer time.

You can just picture it now. Beckham, Draped in the pristine white of the tailor made fat man's dress, majestically wallowing on the right wing, demonstrating less movement than a hog's corpse in the Kalahari desert, but with one wheezy lung full, capable of mustering up the energy to rain in a cross with military like precision.

Despite England having already qualified for South Africa with a game to spare, winning all but one game, and still able to pluck up enough motivation to comfortably beat Belarus 3-0 when I am sure most of the England squad would have rather been running back to their respective clubs injury free, some sections of the media such as tabloid chip paper the Daily Mail, still managed to put a negative spin on the feat, using David Beckham's, albeit surprising man of the match award, as the catalyst.

Jeff Powell's article entitled "David Beckham man of the match award another bad joke" started off by announcing that Wembley had descended into lunacy, compared Beckham work rate with that of the ball boys, and tied up the mental health analogy by describing Wembley as an Architects folly, that had at least for one night become the asylum of Beckham Madness. All very patriotic, celebratory and sterling stuff indeed.

Unfortunately, the lunacy that seemed to fill Wembley must have warped Powell's mind also, as he failed to see through Bruce's overly zealous man of the match award and recognise that the only senseless thing was entrusting Bruce's judgment, who has obliviously had a crush on Beckham ever since the spotty teenager was paraded in to the Old Trafford changing room by Ferguson many moons ago. That, and the faint hope that Beckham would trade in LA for the beach balls on Wearside rather than Milan!

Instead of relying on the judgment of supposed experts, who have suspicious ulterior motives, why not deploy a ballot with maybe four or five of the most obvious candidates, then let texts decide the winner. Not that I would ever vote, but I am sure between the many millions watching a suitable consensus would be reach on who deserved the man of the match.

I'm sure if Broadcaster had embraced this social interaction, we would have been saved Beckham's blush's when he received the generous award. And, that Bruce's selection and the ensuing negativity that followed, would not have over shadowed the game changing ability Beckham still possesses. I don't think Beckham should be starting for England come next summer, but he could prove to be a secret weapon, especially when England are lackluster and in need of a creative spark. Beckham has never been a winger full of blistering pace or bags of tricks, but his passing and crossing has been, and still remains to be world class, and for those reasons alone he gets my vote.

The Future: England 2.0

What could be more convenient than hunching antisocially over your laptop, face illuminated by the glow of watching live streaming football, while flicking between tabs on your browser any time the action becomes less appealing than checking email? And, should you feel really technically savvy, nostalgic viewing through your TV can be restored by hooking up the pipes of the interweb directly, just in case the letterbox sized laptop viewing was making your eye's wince a little too much.

Following Setanta's woeful demise a few months back, the rights for the Ukraine v England game landed back in the original holders lap, Kentaro, which commissioned Internet broadcaster, Perform, an impromptu opportunity to show the first live streaming of an England match via the web. Kentaro had listened to a last ditch "competitive" £1m effort from the BBC, but ultimately decided this offer fell way short of their £3m valuation.

Whether Kentaro's value was way too optimistic for a game that held about as much weight to it as the ailing England World Cup 2018 bid, or whether the BBC's offer was far too scrooge like, matters little as ultimately, and predictably, the cost was levied at the door of the supporter. How reassuringly corporate. Had the fixture been critical to England's qualification hopes, as penultimate fixtures in Eastern Europe so often have been in the past, I am sure the BBC, or someone with more clout would have stepped up and tabled a bid that would have satisfied Kentaro coffers.

While this may have been the first legal streaming of Football of any kind, using the Internet as a platform to broadcast live sports, the technical glimpse of the future has been going on for some time, albeit illegally through self broadcasting sites such as Justin.tv. I discovered the site little over a year a go when a friend asked if I was watching Rangers v Liverpool in a preseason friendly, which I abruptly answered with a scoff. About 30 seconds later, dumbfounded and scoff retracted, I was watching the game, which, to top it off Liverpool won handsomely 4-0, if I recall -at Ibrox!

I had very little motivation to shell out the £11.99 to watch the game, and had I not been preoccupied with higher priority tasks such as laundry, I would probably have turned to justin.tv anyway. I can not remember the last time I had the arrogance and luxury to be more interested in domestic chores than World Cup Qualifiers.

Kentaro's price point was out of sink with the true value of the match. They clearly saw an opportunity and took advantage, but in terms of future games, the prices will have to come down, offer more than one game, or be an actual game with bigger enough importance to warrant the lofty price tag. Supporters already have to pay through the noses, so heading down a pay for view model will test even the most hardened football addict. Besides, given the apparent success of the experiment, I would be amazed if more traditional media conglomerates such as BskyB, are not already working on the ability to broadcast matches via the web, if not they should be. I'm sure within 10 years time, and I hope sooner, at least having the option to view matches via the web will be common place.

What ever the long term future of Kentaro, I hope it will help spark some competition in a market that is dominated by Murdoch's empire, and therefore promote some creativity and innovation. This is possibly verging on the ridiculously optimistic, even for me, but this could ultimately be good for supporters if healthy competition can force prices down to a more tolerant level. Although, how we would then insure every Football gets a free DB7 with every signing on fee.

For now I will make do with BBC highlights accompanied by Mark Bright sounding more like an early morning TV presenter than commentator, with his stand out quote being, "oh the ref's played on their, when Heskey's got one in the face." If I don't hear Mark Bright "tut tut" until the next time an England match is on the Internet, it will be too soon.

In terms of the actual Football, I'm not sure what all the fuss about Rio is? OK, he was napping half the time, and was the cause of the early sending off such was his narcolepsy, but in general, the entire back line looked edgy, especially Ashley Cole.

England may have lost their 100% record, but I think the defeat could actually do some good, keeping English feet firmly on the South African soil. Our arrogance and self entitlement was already becoming unbearable, so being knocked down a bed or two will be a good lesson. Who needs another Adam Crozier "Golden Generation" label with a World Cup Finals on the horizon?

For anyone who missed the highlights, here they are brought to you without the aid of Cable TV, digital or satellite........100% Internet.


Ukraine v England

Trey | MySpace Videos

United's "next goal wins" tactic pays off once again.

Their aren't many things that I would adopt from North American Sports, I can live without the intermingled fans and the nauseating piano plucking that fails to make up for the absence of atmosphere, but punctual time keeping is defiantly one that I would favour. All North American sports, I believe, stop the clock for injuries and disciplinary. Even time sapping final minute substitutions would be a pointless tactical endeavor when you have the miraculous ability to freeze time with the push of a button.

When will the FA, finally update their time piece's with one's that have stop/start technology, i.e. a stop watch? Rugby has somehow kept up with technologies relentless charge towards progress with a complex audio device that hoots after 80 minutes, and they employ video replays for those decision that are just too tight or too physically difficult to call. Michel Platini's insistence to litter the bylines with humans brains, incapable of mental replays is an idiotic idea I will leave for another day.

Manchester United once again profited from stoppage time, rescuing a point against Sunderland after being uncharacteristically subdued for most of the game. Put it this way, its not often that Paul Scholes struggles with his passing, but he would have struggled to tie his own laces let alone thread a decent ball through a well organised Steve Bruce inspired defense.

Sir Alex Ferguson, vented his frustration at the Referee Alan Wiley's fitness being far inferior to that of a butchers dog from Europe, but I thought the rotund whistle blowers performance was just about at the level you would expect for 90 minutes. Nobody told him to train for 90+ minutes, poor little mongrel was probably wondering when it would finally end. I'm sure for his next match he wont be so ill prepared, having rebuilt his fragile self esteem by pounding the tread mill in mid week.

But its not just United I am targeting here. They have benefited from the most added on time in the Premiership over recent years, proved by a Guardian article published shortly after the outrageous 6 minutes added on in the Manchester derby last week -Craig Bellamy really does need to work on those over elaborate 6 minute goal celebrations- but teams win and lose out to vague stoppage time week in week out. In what profession are rough time estimates universally acceptable, apart from builders? Try explaining to someone unfamiliar with football, the complex equations needed to calculate what is a sufficient amount of additional time, and you end up making football look woefully primitive, as their disappointed faces will illustrate.

In a game, and especially the premier league, that has progressed so much in the last two decades in terms of both global appeal and the shear volumes of money at stake, football's reluctance to progress rectifiable problems is baffling. Its the equivalent of insisting on using a sun dial, only to start guessing the time when the ominous black clouds rudely cover the skies.

Besides feeling sorry for a referee that will now be insecurely checking his figure in the mirror, I to feel an unusual sense of empathy towards all referee's in general. Don't get me wrong, I am among the first to hurl verbal abuse at them through the TV, before the rationale of them obviously not being able to hear me enters my mind (when will they make TV's with two way audio so that I don't look psychotic??), but I can't help but feel they have way too much expectation heaped upon them. When you have the worlds eyes judging your every decision in HD, replays and slow motion, who then also needs the added worries of tacking on the right amount of additional -additional- time.

I say take away at least the time keeping responsibilities from referee's. Install a timer that has the uncanny ability to stop when needed, and signals the end of the half/game with a very clear horn blast. Mind you, it doesn't have to be a horn blast, I'm sure their are plenty of creative noises that could be used, such as Sir Alex Ferguson shouting one word profanities. That would do it. This way, ref's could concentrate on trying to make the right decisions instead of fretting over when to blow up for full time. The accuracy of their decisions can be assisted later, via video replay, but for now baby steps, one thing at a time.

This unprecedented, abrupt way to bringing games to a grinding halt will also prevent managers cowardly pointing at their Rolex's when sweating under the heat of the post match press box lights and camera's, as excuses slip their minds. Instead, they can moan about their own teams defensive lapses. For example, Where was Micah Richards when Owen slipped in that winner, and why on earth didn't Tevez boot the ball into the opposite stand when he had the chance? I await your answer Mr. Hughes.

Anyway, as progress in the governing bodies of Football seems to move at an excruciating slow pace, I'm sure my legislative reforms will take a while to churn through the cogs of bureaucracy, so for now I'm off to put Alan Wiley through his paces by chasing him with a butchers dog. One preferably from a Europe, like a German Sheppard. They must be from Germany right??