Clive Tediousley.

"...to your commentators Jim Beglin and, first, Clive Tyldesley."

Urgh.

As the Scousers hold aloft their scarves and bellow their anthem, Tyldesley shall begin his own verbal assault on the nation's ears tonight. Within moments of the handover from Steve Rider, Tyldesley will have declared it to be "another special European night at Anfield".

As the camera pans across the Kop, Clive will remind us that "they live* for nights like this...and they've had a few."

Because that is Clive's bag. Overblown, romance-soaked eulogies...followed inevitably by nauseating asides.

Imagine Liverpool manage to storm into an early lead:

"Arsenal need two goals at Anfield. I wonder if that's ever happened before...?"

Classic Clive, at his face-punchingly smug worst. Not a live and exclusive match goes by on ITV without Tyldesley testing the public's collective patience with one of his ghastly rhetorical questions.

Others include recalling the early exploits of now-established players. A typically greasy example would be

"...a goal from a certain Wayne Rooney. I wonder what happened to him?"

If Arsenal do find themselves desperately chasing a goal, it increases the chances of Jamie Carragher moving within range of Clive's radar:

"...and it's Jamie Carragher again for Liverpool. He's been everywhere tonight."

I would advise all Arsenal and Liverpool supporters to mute your TVs and put on the radios. But you might get Alan Green. Or even Talksport.
Adam.
*Note - all words in bold signify Clive's trademark squirted emphasis.

Ha'way the Fools

Each season, The Angle likes to identify a Comedy Caretaker, very much in the Les Reed mould. A guy surely doomed to fail due to his ineptitude yet will carry on doggedly, hoping that a determined look and the right image will save him from the axe. This year, the obvious choice is Ray Lewington - after he took over from Lawrie Sanchez at Fulham, he was in line for the Comedy Caretaker award with his earnest protestations that he had indeed thrown his hat into the ring - a hat that was swiftly volleyed out of the ring by Mohammed Al-Fayed before it even had a chance to land. Al-Fayed’s action allowed Lewington to get back to what he should have been doing all along - namely worrying about whether “the new man” would bring “his own people in”. As a result, Lewington just misses out on the award.

So, The Angle looks elsewhere and, with comedy on the agenda, there seems to be only one suitable place to look – Newcastle United Football Club.

All teams have myths and clichés attached to them – The samba flair of Brazil, the technically superior Dutch and, of course, the unwritableoffness of the Germans. All good examples of international team clichés but no domestic team can compete with those attached to Newcastle United.

Now, we know that expectations are always high at St James' Park, because Sky have told us over and over again. This from a team which had spent much of the 1980s in the second division and haven’t won the league since 1927.

Except expectations are not high. Quite reasonably, Geordies' expectations of winning the league were at their highest when they were 12 points clear at the top of the table and, since then, have been restricted to not getting relegated and maybe qualifying for Europe.

We all know that they wanted Alan Shearer as manager, although we suspect this is true in the same way that Man United fans wanted Roy Keane and Arsenal fans wanted Tony Adams - i.e. after they’ve shown they’re actually any good at it by practising on someone else’s club first.

We all know that they love their football up there. The RNLI have a signal, maybe a flare, which alerts them to danger and tells them to drop everything and make their way to the boathouse for imminent launch into the stormy seas. The Angle suspects that there is a similar system in the city of Newcastle. Every time a piece of breaking news emanates from St James’ Park, a signal is made and, by the time Sky Sports News gets there, they have no need to corral some passer-by who doesn’t know what’s going on into an interview because there are already thousands of them at the steps.

They are there for sales of players – think back to dear old Keegan trying to justify selling his best centre-forward to future title rivals Manchester United in exchange for Keith Gillespie - and for the purchase of players, as when they signed Michael Owen during the day, when the rest of us were at work and 18,000 Geordies turned up to see a bemused footballer holding a football shirt.

And we also know that Keegan is a bit of wimp when it comes to the going getting tough, having walked out on every job he’s ever had, grazed his knee coming off his bike on Superstars and getting a good hiding whilst sleeping in his car in a lay-by. So what makes Keegan more likely to be this season’s Comedy Caretaker? The appointment of a director of football, that’s what. Second only to the dreaded vote of confidence as a prelude to a swift departure, the appointment of a director of football, someone who sits upstairs, is one of the aspects of the game imported from abroad - because, apparently, it works at Real Madrid (although whether Fabio Capello or Vicente Del Bosque would agree is another matter) and therefore can’t possibly fail in England. All this despite the two most successful clubs being dictatorships, from Ferguson’s Stalin to Wenger’s Mao, while even Jose Mourinho succumbed to the undermining presence of the director of football.

Kevin Keegan may assure us that he's “the man in charge” and that his “decision is final” but the reality is the next manager of Newcastle will not be Alan Shearer, but Dennis Wise.

Coxie.

The Eleventh Hour.

Yesterday saw the the transfer window slam shut and with it a cluster of clichés get trotted out. Players all over the country failed to do their ties up properly and practised their best “I didn’t want to leave XYZ but as soon as I heard ABC were in for me, it was an easy decision” rubbish. The loan system was put to good use, with a number of teams sending out their 17-year-olds for valuable first team experience to prepare them for the next twenty years of really needing first team football at this stage of their careers.

Sky Sports News get terribly excited on days such as this, with actual things happening that they can report on rather than endlessly looping mildly controversial incidents from four days ago. However, it was still not quite enough to prevent them from stating on their news ticker:

BREAKING NEWS: HARRY REDKNAPP THINKS JERMAIN DEFOE WILL BE A GOOD SIGNING

Well, fancy that - a manager trying to sign a player he thinks will do well. Although, this being Harry Redknapp, [this part of the sentence has been censored to ensure that Mr. Redknapp will still talk to us rather than have Tony Adams taking four hours to finish an interview].

Portsmouth signing Jermaine Defoe produced one of the finest examples of how ingrained the cliché has become in the discourse of modern football, giving rise to the first of an occasional series entitled Nonsensical Cliché of the Week.

“It’s a great opportunity to play football…”

Good start to the sentence there, a slight variation on the “at this stage of my career” theme.

“…I just want to play for Portsmouth and score as many goals as I can this season…”

Second point well made, you would think. Fans of Portsmouth must be pleased that their new £7 million striker plans to score as many goals as he can, because that, after all, is what he is there for.

However, as we are about to see, something goes off in Defoe’s mind - a flicker of recognition of a lesson he had in “Media Training” at Charlton Athletic's academy, possibly called “Lies to Tell Towards The End of Interviews“

"…but what’s important is the three points.”

This obvious lie, developed at the Shearer Institute for Inane Comments, was designed to perpetuate the myth that strikers aren’t selfish and don’t really care about scoring.

So deeply ingrained is this in the minds of footballer that they trot it out even when, as in Defoe's case, there aren’t even any specific three points at stake – unless of course their new signing expects Portsmouth to gain a mere 3 more points between now and May.

Now that would be interesting.

Coxie.

A Cluster of Clichés

The animal world enjoys an innumerable complement of collective nouns, ranging from the wonderfully alliterative to the impenetrably obscure. You may not be surprised to learn that football has quite a few of its own.

For reasons of sensationalism, laziness, inaccuracy or diversity, football coverage has demanded that a selection of collective nouns be made available, to be drawn from whenever appropriate. The list covers all aspects of the game, and leaves us in no doubt (despite the lack of cold, hard numbers) of the plurality of the objects or subjects in question:

Raft of substitutions - The sole domain of meaningless international friendlies, where the second half becomes fragmented by the experimentation of both managers, seeking to give debuts to one-cap wonders. Games are also seen to lose their shape and tempo.

Host of opportunities - Hosts tend to be fairly negative-sounding collections, consisting of missed opportunities or absentees from the first team.

String of chances - Chances can come in strings, as can a goalkeeper's saves or a player's impressive performances. Deviating slightly from the grammatical theme, teams will also aim to string some wins together.

Brace - A pair of goals, although simply the word "brace" is sufficient, as nothing else football-related arrives in the form of a brace. Braces are often quickfire in nature, and often leave the scorer vulnerable to be substituted before he can complete his hat-trick.

Flurry of yellow cards - Card-happy referees can sometimes end a barren first half-hour or so by unleashing a flurry of yellow cards in quick succession. They will often seek to justify this sudden outburst of disciplinarianism by pointing out various areas of the pitch to bemused perpetrators of persistent fouling.

Hatful of chances - A more flagrant exaggeration, used to ridicule the overpriced striker that has missed these chances, some of which may have been gilt-edged. One of the more imprecise units of measurement in football, as there seems to be no official confirmation regarding the volume of an average hat.

Run of victories - Similar to a string of wins, but tends to be more smoothly and less desperately achieved. High-flying sides aim to embark on an amazing run of victories as they march towards the title.

Array of talent - Most commonly found at major tournaments, but can also arrive on a club's youthful conveyor belt.

Mass of bodies - Generally found at the centre of an almighty penalty-area scramble, a mass of bodies can be the reason for a statuesque goalkeeper being unsighted, as a strike from all of 30 yards flies past him.

Embarrassment of riches - To further emphasise the options a manager has at his disposal, the cumulative international caps and transfer fees of his substitutes are often stated to illustrate his embarrassment of riches. The Big Four, for example, are not averse to turning to the millions of pounds' worth of talent sitting on the bench to spare their blushes in a Carling Cup tie.

Galaxy of stars - A rather naff alternative to the rather more understated array of talent, a galaxy of stars is often presented in contrast to the part-time bunch of journeymen they may be facing in a fairytale FA Cup tie.

Glut of goals - A goal glut can occur in a specific competition, particularly a weekend of league fixtures in a certain division. We will be told how many goals flew in in the dozen or so matches, leaving us to do the maths ourselves to decide if that is actually impressive or not.

Catalogue of errors - The media are always on hand to collate previous errors by an individual, if they sense that a catalogue of errors is emerging. Alternatively, unfortunate players may wish to browse a catalogue of injuries.

Series of high-profile gaffes - A more focused and specific offshoot of the catalogue of errors, a series of high-profile gaffes tends to be more easily attributed to goalkeepers, as the likes of Paul Robinson, David James and Fabien Barthez have all found to their cost in recent years. The series of high-profile gaffes becomes so because Sky Sports News insist in endlessly looping footage of its contents. The result for the victim is often the axe.

Swarm of [insert colour here] shirts - Sides that like to get the ball down and play have an equally established dislike of being denied space. The gameplan of their successful opponents may have been to close them down, snap at their heels and ultimately squeeze the game. Commentators will note the swarm of opposition shirts that descend upon a player if he happens to find time on the ball.

Adam.

Mansfield v Middlesbrough: A Case Study of Cliché

Some casual, unstructured observations from today's FA Cup game between Mansfield Town and Middlesbrough, live on the BBC. I'll try and avoid addressing the usual Cup clichés, as that would, in turn, be an act of cliché in itself:

2 mins - Martin Keown, today's co-commentator, contends that the "swirling wind" will be a problem for the Midlesbrough defence. Therefore, watch out for a plucky Mansfield defender getting caught out by the swirling wind at some point.

5 mins - BBC coverage of a lower-league side hosting an FA Cup match is not complete without some young scamps (probably on the Beeb playroll for the afternoon) clambering up a tree outside the ground. This will, whatever its position, be described by the tradition-struck commentator as "the best seat in the house".

7 mins - David Wheater, apparently, has impressed this season. Why? The young, English, homegrown local lad has scored FOUR goals this season, making him the club's joint-top scorer. Oh, right. He can't manage to stop his side conceding to drag them away from the dropzone, but he has scored 4 goals. That's what he's in the side for, obviously.

This is typical. No defending can really catch the eye of any pundits, but a couple of goals will always be conspicuous for a defender. Furthermore, as soon as one media outlet describes him as "having an outstanding season", others will blindly follow.

My advice to any young defender would be to go up for a few corners. Get lucky at some set-pieces, and the media will be all over you.

17 mins - In a massive turn-up for the books, Mansfield's bright start has been followed by a straightforward Middlesbrough goal, caused by the Mansfield defence getting caught out by the swirling wind. The opener is "barely deserved", of course, because Mansfield have had a couple of corners at the other end.

25 mins - Robert Huth is booked for clearing the ball and following through on Michael Boulding's midriff. Cue horrified yelps from the commentators, convinced that a red card should have been issued. You wonder, if a Mansfield player had done the same, if the incident would have been dismissed as "clumsy". But no, Huth's foot "cut Michael Boulding in two".

47 mins - The second half begins with another bright start by Mansfield. A couple of corners brings about an "air of belief" at Field Mill.

60 mins - Mansfield embark on a "magnificent spell" of two corners and zero shots on goal.

73 mins - Martin Keown shares a joke with the commentator about the size of the latter's car. The nation can breathe a sigh of relief as it collectively ticks the box marked "Self-Deprecatory Joke between Commentators".

81 mins - Gareth Southgate demonstrates the modern skill common amongst aspirational, young English managers - standing up from the bench and clapping earnestly towards one or more of his players.

84 mins - A Mansfield defender commits an "understandable" foul, to go with the home side's "unfortunate" individual errors and under-hit set-pieces, which have been "a shame".

86 mins - Mansfield score an own-goal. "Cruel".

Adam.

Between the Axe and the Unveiling, Speculation Doth Mount.

Until Kevin Keegan's clearly absurd appointment yesterday, Sky Sports News had dedicated itself to Newcastle's continued search for a depressingly and inevitably short-lived replacement for the previous depressingly short-lived incumbent. Managers up and down the country (Harry Redknapp, Mark Hughes, and, erm, Roberto Martinez), an effectively-retired manager who wouldn't be able to handle it (Keegan) and the vastly inexperienced man who seemed to be simultaneously both the ideal and the utterly disastrous choice (Alan Shearer) all faced the monotonous media barrage of speculation and rumour over their respective futures.

The texts and emails into the studio (who bothers to do this? Why?!) were dominated by Newcastle fans clamouring for a dual appointment of Shearer and Keegan, on the basis that they "are Newcastle through and through", and so on. The ongoing myth that Newcastle fans are more passionate than any other set of supporters (they do, apparently, love their football in those parts) and therefore "deserve success" is, of course, preposterous. But not preposterous enough to avoid being repeated mindlessly by the Football Focus and Soccer Saturday regulars.

The rapidly increasing frequency of managerial axeings (combined with the rapidly decreasing levels of patience of club owners) means football fans should be well-versed in the manager's art of facing mounting speculation. The various candidates, earmarked by the media as potential suitors for the veritably toxic chalice that is the St James' Park hotseat, provided the full range of nauseatingly generic responses to growing reports. The Angle... has collated these pathetic, regurgitated attempts to fob off the media and presents the:

Fig 1.0 - The Sky Sports News Speculatrum

The Speculatrum is by no means intended to be used as a indication of the likelihood of any end result from a certain level of speculation, but as simply a guide to the various methods that a manager can employ to deal with the nosey Sky Sports News reporter camped outside the gates of his home or training ground.

The Speculatrum ranges from the most solid rebuttal of media rumours (the upper red region) to the most flimsy wafting away of the mounting reports (yellow/green), before eventually reaching the stage where the candidate in question is reported to be "mulling over" an offer from the desperate club.
Ruled himself out - In theory at least, this is the most unequivocal response to media speculation. Gerard Houllier was among those who effectively ruled themselves out of the running for the Newcastle job.

Poured scorn on speculation - A delightful turn of phrase. The act of scorn-pouring can be performed not only by managers linked to a position, but also the chairmen of the clubs involved. Interestingly, Newcastle poured scorn on reports that Sam Allardyce only had six games to save his job.

Called for an end to speculation - A good indication that the manager in question is getting distinctly sick and tired of the media whispers regarding his future. Recently, Rafael Benitez desperately called for an end to speculation that he was to leave Liverpool. This, as with any other example of this request, will be universally ignored.

Scotched rumours - To scotch, the dictionary says, is to "bring an abrupt end to" something. Useful for nipping in the bud more unlikely rumours like, say, Kevin Keegan coming out of the managerial wilderness to rejoin Newcastle.
Quashed rumours - A similar act to scotching, although this one is apparently borrowed from media coverage of the legal system.

Dismissed reports - A club or organisation may take it upon themselves to further echo a manager's negative reaction to speculation by dismissing reports. The French FA were quick to dismiss reports that Houllier was bound for the St James' Park hotseat.

Rubbished reports - Clearly a more suitably casual rebuttal to more outlandish rumours. Such rumours will also be referred to as "utter nonsense" or "pure fantasy".
Quelled speculation - Reserved for more negative speculation. Clubs may need to quell fears that a player may miss the rest of the season with an injury.

Laughed off rumours - Rumours of audacious or cheeky bids can be easily laughed off in jovial press conferences.

Flattered by speculation - Used either to patronise the interest from a club which the manager would never dream of stopping low enough to join or, conversely, to acknowledge rumours linking them with a club they wouldn't have a cat in hell's chance of being considered by. Swansea's Roberto Martinez fell firmly into the latter camp when he talked of how flattering it was to be linked with the Newcastle job.

Distanced themselves from speculation - It is at this point we begin to move into the murky realms of non-committal. When a manager distances himself from speculation linking him with a move to another club, it means he is simultaneously - and stealthily - issuing a hands-off warning and a come-and-get-me plea to the managerless club.

You may interpret the following quote from Mark Hughes, regarding the recent Newcastle vacancy, as a perfect example of this particularly flexible reaction to speculation:

"I have not spoken to anyone from Newcastle, I spoke to my chairman last night
and he has had no contact, and I don’t think there will be any contact.

Not "commenting on something that has nothing to do with" them - An old classic, which is becoming less and less trusted with every transfer saga or managerial axe. Knowing that they have now sown the seeds, possibly by the facade of distancing themselves from speculation, the manager can now put his innocent face on and refuse to "comment on something that has nothing to do with" him. Mark Hughes tried this trick as well.

Alternatively, managers may attempt to avoid talking directly about the vacancy by mumbling something about not wanting to comment on "hypothetical situations". Yep, Mark Hughes had a crack at this one, too...

Refused to rule himself out - Edging closer to a tacit admission of interest in the job of the moment, a manager will now refuse to rule himself out of the running. This is usually accompanied with one of those eternally infuriating get-out clauses that only football could produce - asserting that, "in football, you never say never". Quite why the likes of Geoff Shreeves cannot manoeuvre their pre- or post-match interview technique around this clumsy attempt at coyness is beyond logic.

Refused to confirm or deny reports - The final pretence. At this point, managers can go rather quiet, leaving Sky Sports News to feed on a five-second video loop of them leaving the training ground and waving at the camera as they speed off. Newspapers rest assured that their scattergun approach is no longer required, so they can stop tapping up not-at-all-imaginary close pals, insiders and club sources.

Fuelled speculation - A manager can fuel speculation simply by entering any retail premises in the surrounding area of a club searching for a new manager, sparking whispers on internet forums that David O'Leary has been spotted in a Middlesbrough branch of Foxtons or that

Sam Allardyce has been seen devouring a sandwich in a motorway service station in the rough vicinity of the Reebok Stadium.

Thrown hat into the ring - It is routinely the task for the interim caretaker manager to take it upon himself to unconvincingly throw his hat into the ring for the vacant spot. Usually thrust into the spotlight temporarily, after bravely stepping out of the shadows of their role as No. 2, the caretaker manager never has any real chance of being offered the job - especially after a couple of capitulations in their few games in charge. These are conveniently forgotten when the new, proper manager takes over.

Finally, the candidate that flirted with the mounting speculation all along is chosen, and they are reported to be mulling over an offer. A brief period of mulling is sufficient before they are unveiled and paraded in front of their expectant new fans. Talk of funds being made available - possibly enough to fill a warchest - ensues, but the supporters should no longer expect him to hit the ground running in his first game in charge. The cruel Gods of football fate cottoned on to this trick a while ago, after Premiership chairmen started firing managers every other week in the hope that the replacements would automatically win their first game in charge. A 1-1 draw is generally considered acceptable nowadays, particularly for a side that can sit back and relax in its new status as a side in transition.

Being in transition is effectively the pure football equivalent of going into administration - you can kiss goodbye to around 10 points straight away, but it gives you a bit of breathing space.

Until, that is, the mutually-consentual axe falls once more.

Adam.

The Foreign Invasion

Ignoring the question of whether it is necessary to call invasions “foreign”, yet another thing those wily Continentals have brought to the game thanks to the foreign influx of players to the Premiership was raised after last week's Carling Cup semi-final, first leg between Chelsea and Everton.

It was left to the Daily Mail (who else?) to not only report Phil Neville's words but to do so in a manner that a cliché-inspired blog such as this could only stand back and admire:

Angry Neville Blasts Foreign Imports Over Danger Tackles After Obi Red Card

According to Neville, we could add dangerous tackling to the list of things foreign players "have brought with them”.

"I think he went for the ball. It was probably with his studs showing, but foreigners tend to tackle like that.”

This may be the birth of a cliché - one that will take root due to repetition rather than corroboration with hard fact, such as the crunching, studs-up tackle being one of the aspects of English football that used to be a proud tradition. If this does take hold, it will be added to the list of foreign-inspired innovations in our domestic game, as follows:

• Passing - Passing ability and vision in the English game, we are led to believe, was the exclusive domain of Glenn Hoddle until the 1990s, at which point Jamie Redknapp occasionally took time out from getting injured to hit pinpoint passes fully forty yards onto a sixpence. The yardstick for English passing ability has now plateaued with Gerrard and Beckham continually hitting booming or raking crossfield passes (which, if unsuccessful, can also be known as Hollywood balls.)

• Close Control - Another gift from our foreign cousins which has arrived on our shores apparently immune to the effects of decimalisation, turning on a sixpence is often beyond Englishmen, who instead opt for the turning circle of an oil tanker.

• Not Drinking - Foreign signings to Premiership clubs are required, possibly by EU law, to express their surprise at the drinking culture among their British teammates. As the years progress, aspirational English footballers have taken their lead from the Zolas and the Bergkamps of this world, and managed to stick to the "odd glass of red wine".

• Diving - A negative by-product of the foreign influx, which is constantly said to have crept into the English game, along with the equally snidey, cynical and downright un-British art of shirt-pulling.

• Spitting - Beyond even deliberately going out to hurt a fellow professional, apparently, spitting is the worst thing a footballer can do.

• Good Diet - These mysterious footballing visitors from lands far, far away brought with them strange pre-match recipes which, to the bewilderment of the English contingent, didn't necessarily contain chicken and baked beans.
  

If we take all of this away from football, what are we left with? A bunch of fat alcoholics standing in a field, looking quizzically at a strange spherical thing whizzing over their heads. Or - to give it another name - Sunday league football.

Coxie.