Perhaps it’s neither here nor there, but I’m still incensed with Ashley Young. Looking like an Italian simulating a sniper attack in the streets of Sarajevo, he miraculously spread his arms and legs akimbo while rolling over in mid-air to make eye contact with the referee on his way down following the slightest of slight contacts with a player withdrawing his foot even as Ash endeavored to keep said foot firmly in his path. Against his former club, the ones who put him in the spotlight for his move up to United.
If I’d have been Ciaran Clark, I’ve had kicked him in the head and taken a straight red. Then I’d have gone on to hurt him and made Joey Barton look soft. This is not the game I grew up playing. No player would’ve tolerated these cheap theatrics and cheap lies. We were supposed to be hard men, back then, or hard kids, anyway. You stayed up. You proved they couldn’t take you down without clearly breaking the rules.
It was always hard enough, this game. But down 1-0 after seven minutes because a player just one year removed from Villa Park continues his shameless diving ways to “earn” a penalty against his former team? Really, Ash? Are you such a cynical little wanker? Well, I guess we knew it from your days at Villa Park, Webcam, where we increasingly became ashamed at how easily you went down.
But in United red, at Old Trafford, playing half a reserve side of your former teammates while part of a dominant club standing atop the table, a side where every starter would replace every Villa starter? Pathetic. You didn’t think United could win without such a unsportsmanlike, cheating maneuver? You “overdid” it? I’ll say.
That’s as close as you’ll get to honesty from Sir Alex.
Ashley Young: That shirt I have with your name on it? It’ll never again be worn. At least Alan Hutton did one thing right and managed to get in a good hard “you-little-wanker” challenge. I’m glad it hurt, sorry it didn’t hurt more.
And I quite liked the shirt, as it’s a nice Acorns one. Guess I’ll have to order a new one with Herd, or Clark, or Gardner on it. And no, that’s not because I’m trying to prop up the regime or think they’re ready for Barcelona.
I simply like to have a Villa shirt available, because however bad things are, I’m proud to be Villa…And a player with a touch of sportsmanship or simple decency on my shirt who’s Villa through and through will suit me fine. Especially a player who isn’t a diving little fairy.
The owner isn’t Villa. Faulkner isn’t Villa. O’Neill, Houlllier, McLeish: They’re not Villa. Villa are in our hearts, and on our backs. We’re Villa. I’ll wear the damn shirt anywhere I like, anytime I like. It’s a proper club, with real foundations and an honest pedigree. I can be proud of that. I’ll be there, just like I’ve been since 1975 and will always be, whether we win anything again before I die or not.
That’s what a supporter is. That’s what he does: He cheers the colors, rain or shine. When I get my tattoo, I’ll put a picture on here. And I’ll cheer on whoever is wearing the claret-and-blue on matchday, and fuck anyone else.
Anyway
Now. As I say, likely neither here nor there. But it really is just too much sometimes. If it hadn’t come in the seventh minute at Old Trafford, you know that at 0-0 in the 98th minute they’d have gotten the penalty anyway, or the game would’ve gone in the Guinness Book of Records.
The rest of it? I don’t care, really. I was in the Caribbean last week with the girlfriend, on a lovely Honduran island by the name of Roatan, reading, sunbathing, scuba diving and drinking, a well-deserved holiday after a rather tough year. Got home at around 11pm Saturday night, woke to watch a “slaughter” as I’d predicted to the girlfriend before kickoff, and still was in a zen, island state of mind.
So, it was what it was. A bad penalty, a crap goal from crap defending, Nani floating one under Given, who I thought could’ve done a bit better, and a Rooney strike whose deflection seemed to flatfoot Given. But who cares, really. A loss is a loss is a loss. They’d plenty of chances for better goals. Given was a bit weak on a couple that went in, very strong on two or three he kept out that should’ve gone in.
And I know I’ll hear about Wigan’s miracle week (remember our wins against Arsenal and Liverpool to close out last season and raise us from ignominy to 9th?). But it’s tax day for me tomorrow, so I might not be around much to argue it all.
Sanguine? Hardly
Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a long, disappointing season. The spine I’d thought we’d have? Non-existent. The effort? Couldn’t really ever see that consistently, either.
What’s wrong with this team? I don’t really know, to be honest. I know I’ll hear about the usual Axis of Evil, but it’s not that, it’s something else, a rot in the timbers that really doesn’t have anything to do with Randy Lerner or Paul Faulkner. Or even Alex McLeish. There’s a fear and timidity in the side and I don’t know whether to attribute it to O’Neill’s departure, Houllier’s clumsiness, or McLeish’s ideas.
Or a simple lack of fire and pride in many of the senior players. Were they rotten before they came, or did we make them rotten? Never mind the lack of athleticism.
McLeish may be underperforming as manager, but we heard about the 60-minute Villa long before he arrived. We’d heard about the rebellions over fitness regimes and new tactics. In short, we knew that a pared-down side was only bereft of the talent that could get job offers elsewhere. And we knew that fallings out and favorites and small squads, well…who started all that, then? NRC, Shorey, Davies, anyone? Who bought Heskey, FFS?
Barry wanted to leave. Milner wanted to leave. Ash and Downing wanted to leave. Lerner didn’t sell them on out of greed or lack of ambition. They were sold because after the Barry saga, Lerner realized you can’t keep players who want out.
Unfortunately, it’s never the dead wood being paid too much for too long who want out. Only those who see it isn’t going to happen at Villa with anywhere near as much certainty as it will somewhere else, and have the cachet in the market to get the move. They’re the ones who leave.
It’s not happening at Sunderland, Everton, or Stoke, either. Nor Spurs, Newcastle, or Fulham. They’re not winning the EPL, they’re not winning the Champions League. They may be in on the European places, but they’re not winning anything but the odd cup and sniffing around a CL qualifying spot or Europa consolation. Will Chelsea pip Spurs and the Barcodes to 4th? I’ll put my money on it. If Sunderland get the Europa, will they win it? Bollocks they will.
And even when we had the Europa League, was Villa Park full on European weeknights? Not hardly.
In Short
Hold fire. If Alex McLeish keeps us up, he’ll likely be here. He’ll get a chance to make some changes. He may get it right or wrong. But then, one season along, we’ll all have something solid to be for or against. We’ll have seen the side he got, the changes he made. We’ll see our ideas confirmed or confounded (maybe a little). We’ll have known he got as much or more time than deserved. We’ll know he won’t have had enough money to spend to make any real long-term difference given the contracts we’re still waiting to run down. We’ll see whether he follows up Ireland’s renaissance with one for Charles N’Zogbia.
If you despise Alex McLeish, the close season, if we stay up, will give you cause to revel, or cause to cautiously recant. It’ll be interesting, because the man, and so many kids, never mind all of us, have a lot riding on it.
Thought exercise: Forget everything else. You’re McLeish (sorry). How do you approach the summer?
The Author
