WHAT about them Reds, eh?

Just when you decide to write them off as a bloody good-for-nothing gang of divvies following the points dropped against Bournemouth and the insipid shitshow that was the first half at the Brexit Bowl Britannia Stadium, they go and pull you right back in with a comeback that was worked very hard for.

Make no bones about it; the Reds were absolutely dosghit first half on Saturday. Like, very, very bad. Not one player knew where he was supposed to be on the pitch, the midfield didn’t really exist in any sort of physical sense, and that 11 could have played for a week and not managed a shot on target. But then they bring on two of the best lads in the league and it all starts to go right again. Phil Coutinho knits everything together and Roberto Firmino scores a goal.

Can’t wait for my excitement to be quelled by a late Gareth McAuley headed winner at the Hawthorns on Sunday.

Will Tony Suit Spain?

Well, well, well. There’s an awful lot to take in here, isn’t there?

First of all, to my surprise, Tony Adams is actually alive. And he has spent his years post-Portsmouth sacking knocking about in the not-particularly human-rights friendly dictatorship of oil-rich Azerbaijan in Central Asia, where he briefly managed and later served as Sporting Director of a club called Gabala FC, which, would you believe, is actually the name of a legitimate football club, and not one of them made-up ones that used to fill the spaces on Master League in Pro Evo.

Now we’ve established that Adams isn’t dead, let’s move on to the fucking kip of that suit. My word. Fair play to him for having the bollocks to cut about in that, especially in front of a new employer, because it is an absolutely wild set of garments. The suit almost hurts to look at. I honestly think that if you were stare at this photograph of Adams for five minutes or more, you would develop quite a severe migraine and may well be hospitalised. It looks like one of them optical illusions they give you at Specsavers to check you’re not colour-blind, or that rug your nan’s got in her flat that she bought in 1977 but refuses to get rid of because “that cost me £15 from TJ Hughes and to this day there’s not a mark on it! That’d be like throwing money away!”

From his point of view, I think the job makes sense. He won’t be given a respectable job in England again anytime soon because he’s been dicking about in a bullshit league on another continent for ages. Granada are also already in a very precarious position in La Liga, so he has a ready-made excuse when they’re inevitably relegated.

Furthermore, I respect him for having the guts to go abroad and try to work in another culture. English coaches constantly complain about not being given opportunities to manage at the highest-level, but hardly any of them have bothered to go and learn alternative methods and approaches abroad. The likes of Sam Allardyce and Tony Pulis would be too worried about leaving behind Top Gear and pork pies to manage in Spain, so good luck to Adams, I say.

Just get that rig-out sorted ASAP, Tony mate.

All in the Small-Print for Reading

Ah, the Chinese. A great bunch of lads. But unfortunately for them, their imminent takeover of Reading could see the club barred from participating in the Premier League next season if they achieve promotion from the Championship.

Jaap Stam’s side are on the cusp of being bought-out by a Chinese consortium which was barred from taking control of Hull City in autumn of 2016 due to concerns about the financial structures the prospective owners were seeking to employ. The Football League, however, has given them the go-ahead, and the club looks set to join the likes of Aston Villa and Wolves in coming under the control of new far-Eastern ownership.

This is a difficult one to assess in a number of ways. Primarily, it’s a terrible affliction of modern football that the dreams of a set of supporters could be stopped in their tracks over financial irregularities. On the other hand, it has to be considered a positive that the relevant authorities are taking the necessary precautions to secure the long-term safety of the country’s football clubs.

It’s a sad state of affairs when a club’s on-pitch success is hampered by non-sporting proceedings in the background. But I suppose if it were going to happen to anyone, I’d rather it was this gang of horrible Tory twats.

Every Lidl Helps

Some people think that the commercialisation of football and the seemingly never-ending desire of clubs to has gone too far. TV rights deals continue their monetary ascent to levels so astounding that the amounts involved must be on the cusp of becoming imaginary. “Sky Sports and BT Sport will share rights to all Premier League games evenly, with both paying a sum of £756,000 gazillion-million-jillion each“. And from next season, Premier League clubs will be allowed multiple sponsor logos on the back and sleeves of kits.

Brazilian Serie D side Fluminense de Feria, however, have found possibly the most innovative way to make money through sponsorship so far, and frankly, I admire them hugely for it. Every player had their shirt number modified to promote the prices of groceries on special offer at a local supermarket. I don’t know the name of the supermarket but I imagine it’s a Kwik-Save, because they must still exist somewhere.

I’m a big fan of whoever it was that had the chutzpah to suggest this in a board meeting. There is a fine line between corporate cynicism and unbridled creative genius, and whoever that ballsy intern was who came up with concept strayed firmly into the latter in my opinion. And in all fairness, five reales 98 centavos is a cracking price for a bottle of Palmolive.

All of this has actually given me an idea; I’m gonna get in touch with Liverpool and see if The Anfield Wrap can do anything about sponsoring Gini Wijnaldum’s shirt:


Might be a bit wordy that, actually.

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