Consistancy: from Diego to Fabio to me.

They say that as a teacher you should be consistent. Send out any survey asking students what they value most in a teacher, what they like about a teacher, and 8/10 will have the word consistency somewhere.

This fills me with a mixture of guilt and dread. At least it does today. On another day it would fill me with vitriolic anger and rage. And maybe later that day, I would find it reassuring, whimsical, quaint even. 

Point being, I cannot image that a single student I have ever taught would describe me as consistent. Maybe, at best, as an adverb: consistently dull, consistently irritable, consistently late... But consistent, punto. I don't see it.

Maybe this explains my gravitation towards Latin America, where showing your moods and emotions is not perceived as an instability, it's seen as being safe. Safe in the sense that people can see that you are angry, see that you are upset, see that you are happy. 'Facially honest' makes people comfortable. Quiet professionalism is not a phrase or a concept I have come across, and just pisses people off.

You know this because they will say: Thank you for your email 'regarding that important matter'. It pissed me off. Look how red and angry I am. Chau.  

If you've been watching the Latin American managers on the touchline, you can see that keeping emotions in is not considered either necessary nor desirable nor impressive. Emotions are worn on the sleeve: if you're repressed. They should, as everyone knows, be worn on the blood of the sleeve, wiped clean by tear-soaked eyes of joy.

Maradona and Capello explore this contrast nicely. Maradona has spend a lot of time talking to the press about his love for his player. He calls his players by their nicknames, refers to Jonas Guiterrez's totally inability to defend as la problemita de Jonas, takes the mickey out of them alittle, joked with their famililes. He is so at home in the mental world of the media during a World Cup.

Capello stalked the training grounds with his 18mm ruler checking on the FIFA regulation grass length at the specially built training facililty, his players on a timetable divided into 15 minute slots, colour coded as to when they could go to the bathroom, when they could use their phones. Gimp. Shame he forgot to colour code when they should pass, track back, and score.   

 

Diego and Palermo were late for the game on Sunday, clearly visible on camera 3 minutes before kick off, desperately getting dressed, Diego sorting his ties and belt like a school kids racing to roll call, as they ran down the tunnnels Batman and Robin stylee for the anthems. Moment of the World Cup so far.  

And look at what's working? Ah, to be wise after the event. 

Right. Where was I? Oh yeah, off to shout at some kids. Or maybe hug them? Best to keep 'em guessing I reckon.  

The Guys

Leah, Maia, and Babysitter Buddy Clau. 

Thursday afternoon on the terrace. 

Emile, Henman, Englishness and Anger

Explain the inexplicable: why does Capello pick Heskey? England supporters and management alike repeat the following: that Heskey, whilst himself not very good, is a player they choose because others play better around him.

Fair enough, you say. It 'worked in qualifying'.

Though by that rationale they should really play someone even worse than Heskey. Like if I played for Barcelona: I reckon the players around he would look amazing. Or is it  the 'team plays better when reduced to 10 men' adage. Essentially, England start with 10, so as to get the most out of the rest?

But when you play with someone who is not as good, it's just annoying. You don't think: ah well, at least I look frikkin' tops. And aren't the rest of the boys trying hard.

You think, why can't you ever pass me the ball? Or, why do you fall over so much? Or, why did you just kick that ball way over there, while I am standing way over here. Unmarked. You tool.

English people often get annoyed when the Scots don't support their team. Fair enough. But they're a tough team to like, England. I always hated Tim Henman: not because he was English, but because he was as soft as a dog-eaten tennis ball when put under pressure. I liked the Linekar team in 1990. They had a bit of guts, and Gazza cried because he was trying to think and play at the same time. But you can't like a team that hasn't got any bottle.

(Sing)
But when one Green lost his bottle and accidentally threw the ball into his own net for no apparent reason) there was no Green nor bottle left standing there at all, while all that pre-tournament confidence smashed against the wall.

But it was your man Capello who'd started it. Who makes substitutions in the first half of a first World Cup game?

Who drops a player, keeper or not, after one mistake?

When a team is playing well, you can drop someone for one mistake: that raises the level, and is healthy competition for places. When they're playing with less cohesion than their own Panini stickers, and you drop someone for one mistake, you kill a side's confidence.

It's not about too much expectation: every side has their own mental media who talk them up: Holland, Spain, Brazil, Argentina, Portugal... they're all expected to win or suffer. And it's not about quality, or fitness, or lack of preparation either. It's about Tim Henman, and confidence that lasts until the first mistake.

And why does the press get so angry? Why do the fans, and the phone in people? Because they recognise that weakness, that ingrained politeness in public, and they hate seeing the result of it on the field.

Why does Maradona's Hand Of God goal wind the English up so much? 'Cause the guy got away with murder, on the biggest stage, and had the balls to enjoy it. Oh, and it cost them a World Cup final. Ah, if that had been Heskey... no, he would maybe have handed it down for someone else to score... or maybe handed it close to the goal... Nah. It just doesn't work.

Watch Green get made a scapegoat by the phone-ins press and the red tops, and remember that it is only themselves they hate. Then watch Big Diego lapping up this maddest of World Cups, throwing on world class strikers like a teenager playing FIFA Wii, and coaching a team who play with visible fear of failure that still doesn't affect their game, and you tell me who it's easier to like.

Come on England. F***ing sort yourselves out, 'cause I'm hating seeing my own can't-send-food-back-in-a-restaurant passivity being held up for all the world to see.

Crouch Homework

Homework: Write Peter Crouch jokes. Some of these are pretty good. 



"Crouch missed that header at the end of the USA game cause they were playing at altitude and, as he was going for the ball, he bumped his head on the sky."


"Does Crouch struggle more or less at altitude? One the one hand, he should be used to it, one the other, he's not really a very good footballer."


"Crouch was picked as he didn't count as a travelling player in the 23. They just got Gerrard to fold him into hand luggage."


"Why did they bring on Peter Crouch?"


"

World Cup Fever: Update

Flicking the channels during the advert break in Goles Del Mundial this evening, when I stumbled upon some volleyball on ESPN.

I actually looked around to check I hadn't been caught. It seems somehow dirty and wrong to have anothr sport other than football on the TV at the moment.  

 

The Dudettes

Mobile

Off to jardín