Match-Fixing and Doping in Football

All too often we hear people bemoan the dwindling moral standards of professional footballers and the ever-decreasing standing of the game in comparison to other sports.

Those who fear so greatly for the reputation of the game, while well-meaning, often ignore the players whose behaviour is the antithesis to that of the troublemakers.

Additionally, this overly sensationalistic approach ignores the fact that professional athletes of all codes step out of line from time to time and instead portrays football as the sole destroyer of moral standards in sport.

Whether it’s Liam Ridgewell baring his backside while brandishing a £20 note, or Joey Barton’s latest outburst; these are footballer’s worst ambassadors and barely deserve our attention let alone the power to influence our perception of a game in which they’re on-field contributions garner little attention.

There is however two pertinent issues that threaten to leave an indelible scar on the image of the Beautiful Game.

The first is the endemic of match-fixing that Europol’s investigation has this week positioned centre-stage. 680 matches spanning five continents and including World Cup and European Championship qualifiers are implicated in the alleged match-fixing conspiracy.

“A total of 425 match officials, club officials, players and serious criminals from more than 15 countries, are suspected of being involved in attempts to fix…professional football matches,” according to Europol’s 

director Rob Wainwright.

These revelations, allied with the Italian match-fixing troubles of the last number of years, indicate a widespread cancer in the game- from the lower leagues of club football to the upper echelons of elite international competition- that is scantly believable. Worryingly, who knows how many other matches might be involved that we don't yet know about?

It is this sort of tarnishing of reputation that football, and indeed sport in general, can ill-afford. The minimum required for people to maintain an interest in sport is the authenticity of the competition they witness.  Without this fans will become disillusioned and fall away from the game.

We are fortunate in that such a situation still remains unlikely, but should football’s top authorities fail to heed this warning and act accordingly people will eventually grow tired of being cheated and deceived in such routine fashion.

The second great challenge that football faces is one that it has so far failed to acknowledge; preferring instead to adopt a holier-than-thou approach and bury its head in the sand. Doping exists in all sports and football, as the trial of Dr Eufemiano Fuentes seems likely to prove, is no different.

Dr Fuentes is the doctor at the centre of a global sports doping scandal who has stated that his clients included not only cyclists, boxers, tennis players but footballers too.

Fuentes has admitted to aiding his clients in carrying out blood transfusions, although he claims this was to protect the player’s health rather than to facilitate cheating. Self-confessed drug cheat and American cyclist Tyler Hamilton has, however, agreed to appear as a witness in the trial- and in doing so would appear to cast serious doubts over Fuentes’ claims.

Jesús Manazno, the former professional cyclist who was the whistleblower on Dr Fuentes, has claimed that he personally saw well-known footballers attending the medic’s clinic.

Real Sociedad are rumoured to be one club that are alleged to have been involved with Dr Fuentes.  In light of comments made by the club’s former president Inaki Badiola it seemingly matters little whether any such involvement did occur in establishing that doping took place at the club however. Mr Badiola said: “What is certain is that in 2008 our board publicly denounced doctors Eduardo Escobar and Antxon Gorrotxategi because, in the six seasons before [we arrived at the club], at least, the directors paid for medicines or products which in that moment were categorised as used in doping.”

It’s difficult to discern which aspect of the situation is more troubling; the apparent doping at a top level of the sport or the general inertia with which it has been greeted. Either way it is an issue that is likely to gain many more column inches in the coming months. It may well prove to be a painful and prolonged exercise but the truth regarding doping in football must be established and dealt with.

While the misdemeanours of some of football’s more immature professionals are as undesirable as they are unsavoury, their importance is also often overstated. Should football not deal forcefully with the twin scourges of match-fixing and doping there will be no overstating the cost to the game however.

First Appeared on theblend.ie on February 7, 2013

Spain.
A few questions answered.

So Euro 2012 in the end went the way of WC 2010 and Euro 2008, no surprise there. In winning an unprecedented three major tournaments in a row the debate has been opened as to whether this Spanish team is the greatest international side we've ever witnessed. Certainly they are the greatest I have ever witnessed. That, however, won't count for much come the final reckoning I'm sure.

What matters more than debating the merits of the great teams and ultimately declaring one the greatest is that we appreciate each of their contributions while we can. Its easy to lose oneself in the nostalgia of the past and forget the joy of the present. Spain have developed the game, brought something new to the table for all to examine, dissect and try to imitate. They have set their own course and remained true to it. As Cesc Fabregas reminded everyone after Sunday nights final their style is borne out of necessity as much as anything else, "We have to play this way. We can't play long balls because Iniesta is not strong, I am not strong, Silva is not strong, Xavi is not strong." Borne of necessity or not, what this group have moulded their strengths into is something to behold. The passing is incredible but that is only part of the greater story. Sublime passing is futile if not facilitated by the imperious movement of the Spanish. Angles are of the world of mathematics but so too of football; creating and exploiting in an endless, fluid cycle. Defensive strength is in turn a product of the possession game. This side is unusual in their defensive emphasis; defend WITH the ball, 'typical' defense is only a contingency plan should the original fail from time to time.

That is not, to answer another pressing question regarding this team, to say that they are boring. Arsene Wenger became an unlikely traitor from the cause when he claimed that the sole purpose of Spain was to hold onto the ball to defend rather than to attack. Rubbish Mr. Wenger. As one of the greatest purveyors of the finer points of the game Wenger's comments were disappointing to say the least. He is not entirely wrong either though. Possession is little without penetration. The marriage of these qualities makes for joy, excitement and exhilaration. Mostly it brings success. At times it looked as if Spain's success in this tournament was in doubt. Times when the aforementioned penetration was lacking, to be more precise. The fact that the matter is that they rely on Iniesta, Silva, at times Fabregas and lately Jordi Alba for this crucial facet of play. The rest play in front of the opposition. As such the burden is great on only a small few and at times they falter. Crucially though, as is they crux of Wenger's comments, it isn't for the want of trying. The way in which the Spanish play requires that quartet to go past the defenders and relies on the ability of others to find them. The accuracy required is incredible and invariably more often than not the ball will be intercepted. But such is the manner of their game plan, they need only make it work once and the likelihood is that win the game.

Wenger's misunderstanding is this: Spain are limited in ability not in attitude. Limited may seem a perverse tag with which to label some the greatest footballers of our time, but they are. Fantastically good in the strength of their play but limited in their range of abilites and consequently the team's ability to change style when required. Even the 'false 9' is only a tweak to the same system. There is no Plan B, pass to win or pass to lose. Consequently La Roja are predictable and generally quite easy to plan for. In theory if not in execution. Furnishing the enemy with the plan of attack and implementing it to claim victory regardless is no small feat. This is what Spain do time and again. Excuse them please if this bunch of players who have developed a style of play that has brought joy to millions, reinvented the game and won three major tournaments sometimes falls short of the thrills and spills we demand of top level football. The improbable skill of their players renders their shortcomings largely meaningless, and allows them triumph over all before them time and again.

The European champions are not boring. They simply are not cavalier, they are not pacy, they are largely not spectacular. Their expression of the Beautiful Game is a subtle, refined, exquisitely beautiful version. Don't look for joy where it is not, don't intentionally ignore the gifts this team frequently bestow upon us. Appreciate, instead, their style, their manner, their brilliance where it does exist; pass and move football. They lack the flying wingers, the goalscorer phenomenon centre forward, the cult figure enforcer, all these qualities with which we readily identify with and reward with adulation. What this team lacks in such qualities they more than make up for in their abundance of skill and guile. Outwitting rather than out-running, out-muscling and out-jumping.

In my humble and in many ways uneducated opinion this Spanish team will be ranked among the greatest but not quite at the pinnacle of the finest teams ever. That title, for the time being at least, still rests with the Black Pearl and the Samba beat of Brazil's incredible 1970 World Cup winners. Crucially that team provided the exhilaration that Spain cannot frequently muster. 

What cannot ever be taken away, however, is their achievements and the manner in which they were attained. Limted, but undeniably great- the ironic truth of this fabulous group of players that must be acknowledged to protect their legacy from detractors in the ilk of Mr. Wenger.

The Italian Odd Couple


Selection permitting, come this evening we may have witnessed the sublime brilliance or infuriating petulance of one of the game's most peculiar strike partnerships; Mario Balotelli and Antonio Cassano. Very much cut from the same cloth the partners upon which Italian hopes are likely to rest are mavericks, playboys, eccentrics, the list of terms is endless. Given the temperament and tendencies of Balotelli one would be forgiven for expecting Cesare Prandelli to partner him with a level headed role model from which he could learn to curb his eccentricities. Instead the coach seems to embrace what makes the young City striker what he is and revel in the possibilities of his strike force. There really is a growing sense of master and student between the two. Upon arrival in Poland, Prandelli did, however, note one restraint he'd placed on the pair, "Mario actually wanted to share a room with Antonio but we didn't want to overdo it." A wise move one suspects!

Their 'rap-list' takes some reading. Ballotelli's training ground darts throwing 'pranks', experimenting with fireworks, confrontations with team mates, appearing unannounced at press conferences- of different teams, wearing an AC Milan jersey on national TV while playing for great rivals Inter, its all there. Not to be outdone the jovial Cassano can lay claim to "sleeping with 600- 700 women", being sent off and subsequently abusing the referee in the Italian Cup Final of 2003, imitating Fabio Capello, falling out with Sampdoria president Riccardo Garrone and generally being one to overeat and under train. As he puts it " I was born tired", tired in this sense we can take to mean lazy. Throughout much of his stint in Madrid he was ridiculed and lampooned as a clown of ever increasing weight and lessening value. Claims such as those made in his autobiography, 'Telling Everything' that he had a friend in Madrid whose job it was to "bring me three or four pastries after I had sex" probably didn't help his cause. Not that he cared what the media had to say about him one suspects. Cassano, like Balotelli, is a free spirirt. Just this week Balotelli's agent compared him to Peter Pan. In a curt reply to questions on the matter the young striker asserted that he is "more of a man than Peter Pan" although he did accept "I could be Peter Pan because I do things my own way, I'm a bit free". On the eve of a quarter final of the European Championships it was all a little surreal. Saving his best for last Balotelli out did himself in response to James Milner's claim that there are two Ballotellis- the one who can the win the game and the one who can get sent off at any minute- by simply saying; "he's fortunate that he knows two of me!"

For all their misdemeanors however they remain incredibly talented footballers, capable of putting England to the sword tonight should they be on their game. Cassano, at the age of 29, has collected two Italian Super Cups, one Serie A title and one La Liga. Ballotelli's haul at the age of 21 is truly remarkable; 1 Italian Super Cup, 1 Coppa Italia, 1 FA Cup, a Premier League Title, 3 Serie A titles and a Champions League. Their combined medal collection is one to marvel at and, given their idiosyncrasies, a huge testament to their incredible talent. José Mourinho once called Ballotelli "unmanageable". Roberto Mancini though perhaps gave the best insight into managing and tolerating such a talent in equal measures;

"I told him, if you played with me 10 years ago I would give you every day maybe one punch in your head..I don't speak to him everyday, otherwise I would need a psychologist, but I speak with him because I don't want him to lose his quality." Mario can be one of the top players in Europe. I don't want him to lose his talent."

Infuriating and inspirational in equal measure; the Odd Couple will tonight be given the grand stage upon which to silence their doubters and fire Italy to a semi-final date with Germany. Balotelli once wondered aloud after scoring against Manchester United; Why Always Me? Now that he has a partner in crime in the world of footballing mavericks, concerns of being singled out should no longer trouble him.

Book Review: A Life Too Short
The Tragedy of Robert Enke
by Ronald Reng


On 10 November 2009 Robert Enke ended his life. It was a tragic end to a harrowing battle with depression that had consumed from the inside out and transformed him both as a footballer and as a person. Enke and the author of the book, Ronald Reng, had intended on penning his life story together. Instead Reng was forced to do so alone.

The marks of Reng's close friendship with Enke are all over this biography. It is written very much from a friend's perspective; careful, sensitive and above all incredibly detailed. As such Reng's story flows effortlessly from the pages with a feel of authenticity. The detail in which the story is told is remarkable. From Enke's childhood in former East Germany to the highs of being Germany's national goalkeeper and every aspect of his personal life in between Reng   regales tales of his gentle, assured, simple demeanor. We get a picture of a man unimpressed by the trappings of wealth and flashiness that accompanies his chosen profession, happier instead with his wife Theresa, their countless dogs and later their children. Professionally Enke's career took him from Bundesliga protégé, to Benfica starlet, Barcelona reject and eventually, via loan spells at Fenerbache and Tenerife in the Spanish Segunda División, full circle with redemption in his home country at Hannover 96. He was courted too by the likes of Manchester United,  Manchester City and Schalke. Rumours late in his career even abounded that Bayern Munich were interested. It was a career that promised to reach the very heights of the professional game yet somehow seemed to be dragged back at every turn. Just as his stellar performances with Hannover had earned him a place in the national squad, and subsequently as first choice keeper- the pinnacle of his career- the scourge of depression that had first afflicted him in Barcelona returned. This time it would prove too much to overcome.


Perhaps most remarkable about 'A Life Too Short' is its ability to transcend the ever lurking finale of Enke's death for much of the book, making it read and feel like any other sport's biography. Until the culminating chapters the book retains its balance between the two main narratives of football and depression, it is the Enke the Goalkeeper and Enke the Husband we are most familiar with throughout. Enke the Depressive only appears intermittently. 


Early in his career Enke found himself uncomfortably in the middle ground of the goalkeeping fraternity; not so cautious and spectacular of those who remained rooted to the goal line like German hero Oliver Kahn, yet no so advanced as the '11th Outfielder' in the ilk of Edwin Van der Sar and the 'radicals'. Eventually though he carved his own niche; assured, decisive, unspectacular but ultimately comfortable in his own skin. The same too may be said of 'A Life Too Short'. There is nothing of the 'typical footballer' in the story, but more of the 'professional' seen in the likes of Eamon Dunphy's 'It's Only A Game'. In his epilogue Reng writes "his style of play went unacknowledged because he wasn't a fierce goalkeeper who trod a solitary and reckless path. Robert was something better...a goalkeeper...who didn't make a spectacle of his virtues and who firmly believed that ambition could be realised politely and respectfully." If Enke didn't enjoy the acknowledgment he felt he deserved at least the same will not be said of his story. The book will remain a fitting testament to a fine goalkeeper and a beloved friend. It's finest achievement may be in further eroding the stigma of mental illness that is attached to professional athletes, and pave the way for greater understanding and acceptance. Perhaps the greatest compliment I can pay Reng's work is my unusual dependency on the Backspace key in writing this review; 'Enke' not 'Robert' I had to remind myself. Somehow I too felt as if I'd known the man. 


Buy, Borrow or Burn?


Beautifully simplistic in its delivery, devastatingly sad in its message, 'A Life Too Short' has wrestled itself into the top drawer....


Buy!

Standing on the Precipice

Challenges invigorate the mind,  the body and the soul. They keep old men young, give impetus to one's existence and purpose one's profession. Some are small, but important nonetheless. Others are mammoth. 

In the world of professional sport this narrative can sometimes seem crude and misplaced in the context of the realities of 'real- life' problems. Even so, it is often the challenges our sporting figures encounter that inspire us to face the more mundane difficulties of everyday life. Today, in Ireland we as a nation are hurting. We are tired and confused, misled and misinformed. Many people find themselves subjected to crippling financial burdens while simultaneously striving to keep family units intact. Challenges have rarely been greater. It is in this context that we look, more than ever, to the heroes of the sporting sphere. Last weekend promised much but delivered scant reward with the All Blacks crushing the 'Potato Paddies' as the afterthought they view us as, and the damn Croats having enlisted some sort of divine script-writing intervention ensuring an opening day defeat at Euro 2012. Hope, however, springs eternal and so tomorrow we will willingly undertake our usual pre-match routine; self-deprecating jokes prepared, apologetic pardons assigned, acknowledgement that really we don't have a hope registered and suppressed, and finally vocal chords prepped for another night of "You'll neeever beat the Irish....". Only the Irish would sing a song whose premise is so wholly refutable. Tongue firmly in cheek then! Tomorrow the Rep. of Ireland face reigning World and European champions Spain, standing on the precipice of elimination. So too, in a sporting context, will the challenge that awaits be so daunting and seemingly insurmountable.

The premonitions and proposals as to which team represents Ireland best hope of survival is largely futile. Only Trappatoni will decide, and he is likely to make only minor changes. That however, makes it no less interesting to contribute to the generally obsolete debate!

It seems likely that Robbie Keane will retain his place in the side, and that he may be joined by Johnathon Walters in place of Kevin Doyle. Noises from the Ireland camp at today's press conference seemed to indicate a five man midfield with Walters as the extra body and Keane playing the role of lone striker. This to my mind represents nothing in the way of progressive and constructive influence on the team and their subsequent chances of causing an upset. Walters, presuming he plays the deeper role (presuming he plays that is!), offers endeavour, strength to hold the ball and set up attacks and a reasonable ability to cross the ball. Unfortunately the situation calls for more. For my money, Shane Long is our best striker at these championships and should be given his chance to prove as much. He is the only of our strikers that can legitimately claim to carry any sort of form into the summer, and may prove ideal for the task at hand.

Playing Long up front, with Keane in behind offers us a genuine attempt at disrupting the Spaniards. In all honesty neither Long, Walters nor anyone else is likely to strike fear into the hearts' of the defending champions, nor is it likely to prevent the Spanish Armada of little'uns laying siege to Shay Given's goal from every conceivable angle. Remember though, there's always hope, the crutch of every unwavering, loyal but equally illogical supporter! Spain, like Barcelona like to play the ball out from the back by pushing the full-backs on and splitting Ramos and Piqué to receive possession. Long is quick and crucially young and willing. The sight of him hurtling at the centre-backs might not win possession but it may very well unsettle what can be a flaky center-back partnership. Those two guys fancy themselves as footballers with the ball on the deck, justifiably so at times, what they fail to acknowledge is that they are liable to a rush of blood to the head. 'Put 'em pressure Jack' might just be called for again! Playing Keane in a withdrawn role, acting as a fifth midfielder when in defence is perhaps the most contentious issue with this particular blueprint for success. He is, however, more than capable of performing it successfully. Playing Keane in this role allows him to occupy Xabi Alonso and Sergio Busquets, who otherwise a flat midfield four will find hard to engage allowing them the freedom of the park. Keane's efforts may indeed prove strenuous on his ageing legs, and ultimately fruitless in regaining possession directly but it will serve to hurry the likes of Alonso instead of giving him all day to pick his passes and unlock our defence. That leaves our wingers to pick up their full-backs, and Whelan and Andrews free to sit a little deeper. Along with our back four, playing a slightly higher line, this leaves a 'back six' to pick up Spain's front four whatever shape that might take. Even if one of Busquets or Alonso feels the need to join in it still conceivably allows us an extra man in defence to deal with Spain's attacks and the higher line leaves less space to pass through us.

In attack the system too allows us some scope for optimism. If we're going to win this game, or take a point, we're going to do so through either playing counter-attacking football or through set plays. Possession football and intricate passing moves are not our forte as countless column inches and even more video evidence will testify. Long, in my opinion, offers most of what Walters does and quite a bit more besides. Having him on the pitch offers us three 'get-outs' to turn defence into attack and relieve the onslaught. Firstly, is playing the ball directly up to Long. His strength defies his size and more often than not it will stick. His distribution skills are also better than Walters. From there he can lay it off to Keane, Duff or any other of the supporting cast. Alternatively Long offers an option in behind which as a lone striker neither Walters, nor Keane nor Doyle do. The Tipp man is extremely quick and makes intelligent runs behind the defence. Perhaps most importantly, should he manage to spring the offside trap and evade his markers, I'd fancy him sticking it away unlike the other options at our disposal, bar Keane. Thirdly, our wingers breaking quickly can act as an outlet for balls out from the back. McGeady especially should have the pace to trouble his marker. Finally, another benefit of adopting this system is that is gets Robbie Keane involved in setting up attacks as well as trying to finish them off. Playing as a lone striker as he may well do tomorrow is a pointless exercise. He simply doesn't have the ability to play that game anymore, if indeed he ever did. Playing him behind Long gives him the opportunity to get on the ball and instigate attacks. We sorely lack creativity in possession but Keane remains the greatest proponent of creativity in our ranks. He still has that ability to thread careful passes in the final third that can give us a little more guile to break the Spanish resistance and also aid in retaining the football.

Regardless of the system, it will require unwavering commitment, clinical execution and a slice of luck for Ireland to succeed tomorrow. It is the biggest task of the players careers, to a man. It is perhaps one of the manager's greatest tasks too. We have long been prepared to play the role of jovial revelers off the pitch and plucky underdogs on it and tomorrow, in the end, may prove no different. If so we will slip comfortably back into our rightful position in the pecking order, gain acclaim from all involved for our spirit and the support of our fans in Poland and comfort ourselves with the undeniable truth that this team is a bunch of lads that always give their utmost effort in the name of our country. What we must not do is acquiesce to such a fate without the application of the group's collective wisdom to the job at hand. The burden in this regard falls largely with the manager. One defeat does not mean that the playbook need be ripped up, but alternatives must be at least given real consideration. If ultimately this too proves unsuccessful, there will be no shame in having tried. As Lou Brock once said;

"Show me a guy who's afraid to look bad, and I'll show you a guy you can beat every time." 

A challenge awaits this team. They should not be afraid to attempt to change the destiny others have prescribed for them in the fear of humiliation at the hands of the Spaniards. Regardless the team will return home with the best wishes of the nation, and so too the manager for all he has achieved in guiding us to this moment. And rightfully so. If however, he feels that his players cannot adapt to subtle changes perhaps he should reconsider the professions of faith in their ability to which he is prone, as his words then are no more than empty rhetoric. There is no shame in losing tomorrow, the only shame, Mr. Trapattoni, will be in failing to give the players their due chance to compete.

English Mentality Set To Fail


The dial of the English sporting pysche has long been preset at 'delusions of grandeur'. As a sporting nation England has much to pride itself on. It is steeped in the history of many of our favourite sporting games and indeed can boast the founding fathers of more than a few too. Unfortunately this is part of the problem for many an English supporter nowadays. Rather than give rise to the gentle awakening of a nations hopes and dreams, the past glories of the English signal the onslaught of more the raucous emotions of expectation and self-entitlement. One need not delve too deep into the annals of time to find a litany of examples. David Haye and Andy Murray, as well as the national teams in football, rugby and cricket provide ample evidence of premature proclamations of greatness. Successive English competitors display great promise, not great achievement. Those of a more forgiving nature may point to Ashes victories, near-perfect qualifying campaigns and RWC performances as a specious counterbalance to the presented argument, but ultimately these are borne out of nothing more than delusion. Nine years ago a proud and fine English team did indeed reign supreme in Australia, but this alone stands as justification of what has otherwise been a bombardment of bluster  from supporter and media alike.

England- RWC 2003

The fortunes of the English football team and mood of the nation are permanent bed-mates, such is the importance of the former to the latter. In no other sphere of the sporting world has the cerebral distortion outlined above been more prevalent. As major competitions have come and gone so too have average teams, poor performances and of course the now customary solution; the great and omnipotent inquest. Only during these months of fastidious research does the hiatus of the general public come about, and the brief respite for those of us looking in from afar present itself. Of late ,though, one feels the mood has changed a little and the thirst for unlikely glory been quelled somewhat. Repetitive evidence to the contrary of one's held beliefs is always likely to induce a period off re-appraisal. Coupled with Fabio Capello's untimely resignation in February and the internal strife which forced him to take such a course of action, the pysche of the English is markedly altered from even two years previous at the World Cup in South Africa. If there were a tagline for preparations in the English camp thus far it would be 'no expectations'. It has nearly become the mantra of the players and has been adopted by the media with equal readiness. A welcome change, say the playing staff led by captain Steven Gerard. And not before time, the writer would venture to add. The current culture of, at best, reserved optimism has somewhat of an eerie feel about it however. A mere temporary abatement, the eye of the storm if you will. Should qualification from one of kinder groups at these championships be secured, prepare yourself. The welcome lack of expectation may transform from a simple by-product of the preparation process to the altogether more daunting catalyst for another array of prophecies as to the chances of success.


Regardless, the English have good players. They always have good players. At these championships they do pose a threat, and are capable of going far should they succeed in forming a coherent team unit which for once is greater or at least equal to the sum of its parts. The air of calm surrounding the team must be a welcome addition to preparation and as such it is reasonable to expect this is a happier camp than on previous occasions. All bodes well for a good run to the knockout stages, and in reality this is somewhat of a 'free-hit' for Roy Hodgson. He has as close to nothing to lose as makes no difference. Little is expected and so should his team board an early flight home, the backlash will be far weaker than before and he will be given time to build his own team regardless. Should, however, an unlikely victory be achieved Hodgson and his charges will return national heroes.

Roy Hodgson

It is for this reason I find Hodgson's apparent outlook baffling. He is presented with the greatest opportunity of his career at these championships; to make a team currently viewed as a group of underachieving misfits into champions of Europe. The recent withdrawal of Gary Cahill raises some serious questions as to how ruthless Hodgson is prepared to be in achieving this goal. Martin Kelly has been drafted into the squad as Cahill's replacement.

Gary Cahill was ruled out following a clash in warm up game vs. Belgium

On the surface Hodgson's choice may be justified. After all the English public have oft willed management to disregard the older members of this squad in recent years, and instead give youth a chance. Hodgson has now done so. The problem however, is that nobody in their right mind can claim that Kelly has earned his call up over Rio Ferdinand for "football reasons"as Hodgson has claimed. Through whichever rose tinted spectacles you care to peer, Ferdinand is simply not an inferior player to Kelly. The United man has been in exceptional form since half way through the season and played the last 16 games of the Premier League. Omitting him on form or indeed fitness simply does not add up. Building for the future is all well and good but the immediate future is Euro 2012. You are at a major tournament, you simply have to give yourself the best chance you can to win. You do this by picking the best players available, and Hodgson has not done so. His hands may be tied by the presence of Terry in the squad, but this simply exposes the foolhardiness of picking the Chelsea captain in the first place. Ferdinand, for my money has been in  better form than Terry, certainly seems less disruptive and was never going to pose such problems as having to call up a right back with two minutes international experience to cover a central defensive injury.
While Ferdinand and his representatives have been accused of sour grapes over the issue, the veteran defender is more than entitled to feel aggrieved.

A partnership we will not see at Euro 2012.

What has struck me most about the issue is not particularly Ferdinand's omission but the wider context in which the decision has been made. The English, long accused of over confidence have apparently come full circle. Before they expected to conquer all before them and obnoxiously told the world as such, and while the bubuzelas of South Africa might not have drowned out such cocksure claims, the performance of superior teams eventually reduced them to a whimper. Approaching Euro 2012 expectations have been reset and the shouting of the rooftops approach conspicuous only in its absence. Unfortunately, no honourable alternative has arisen. Instead their new manager has the contempt to treat the European Championships as an exercise in evasion. The consequences of his decision may seem minimal, but the idea it represents is much larger. His actions have reduced the promise of a new beginning and accompanying hunger of his players to what is now fast becoming a training exercise for players less deserving than others.