Return of the Gods

As a football fanatic, there are people you need to know in the footballing world. Names such as Scholes, Henry, Gerrard. These my friends are the Football Gods, and they have been kind to us to return.

You ask why their names should be whispered in the annals of football, here is why:

Scholes;

The Ginger prince made a return to the Manchester United team just as The Puppeteer had written a piece reliving his genius on the ball. Scholes is like the pro kid who was the start in the school team and had to be rewinded over and over his class so that they couldnt let him go. Priceless.

The string puller was back. Even the Manchester City fans could feel it. They knew they would not know what to expect from the man himself.

Being as it is there a was a piece about him on the Return of the Ginger Bread Man, there will be little words regarding him on this piece.

Henry;

Described as the Return of the King by all Arsenal fans. North London was in a frenzy. Thierry Henry was coming back! Negotiations about his insurance and crap like that could not let the mood of the Gunners down. Jerseys were bought, scarves were knitted and banners were made.

The number 3 in the all time scorer list in premier league history was coming back. Named on the bench against Leeds in the FA cup, he already had won Man of the Match without having gotten on the pitch. Yes, they love him that much!

And as if to write the script, he came on to score the winner. This is equivalent to a man leaving his wife, the wife getting married to another man who is unable to impregnate her, the previous man coming back to his wife, laying with her and warming his loins in the present of the current husband, THEN impregnating her and delivering their son, leading to the second husband leaving.
 Yes, it was that good for the Arsenal fans.


Gerrard;

The Kop God, Captain Fantastic, but unfortunately one of the greatest footballers that may never win the Premier League Trophy.
The Kop had this strange sense of dullness without their string puller. The days of the Gerrard-Torres factor had gone. When Stevie G would weave a surgical through pass to the clinical Torres and before you knew it the net was bulging.

He had been out, the Captain. Rehabilitation they call it. No one knows what happens there. We all hear words such as "Horse Placenta", "Specialist in Switzerland", and the like. We dont care for much what they do to these players, but all we want is for them to play.

They did what they did, and he was back. You know there is an English saying that says 'As faithful as a Liverpool fan'.
They showed him the faith. Forget the racist twat in Suarez, forget even the big flop in Andy Caroll, or the even unglorified Lucas Leiva. All that mattered at the Mersey-side was that Stevie G was back.


The Gods have truly Returned. Albeit for a short time, they are here. We wont argue, we wont stutter, because from one string puller to another, the talent talks for it self. So go on friends, hang their jerseys in your rooms walls, brandish their scarves on game day, kiss the badges when score and lift up your heads when they lose.

For that is the attitude of the Gods

Return of the Ginger Bread Man

First, The Puppeteer would like to apologize for the delay in posts. As football fanatics, a lot has gone on since the last piece about the Queens of Europe.

There has been the fall of the greats from the Champions League (by greats i mean Manchester United only, Manchester City on the other hand can go suck on a fish).

There has been the unveiling of statues in London, first Thierry Henry and most currently Tony Adams.

There has been the Flying Dutchman who has single handedly brought Arsenal up from 14th place to somewhere near 4th place, until they lost to Fulham at the Craven Cottage.

There has been rows of racism here and there. From the Kop to London. Middle fingers have been shown, inquisitions have been put through. Clubs have supported their players and hefty fines have been issued.

There has been the Christmas period, a true blessing of Premiership Football. Manchester United have gone from bad to worse in terms of injury. Make shift defenses of Evra, Carrick, Valencia and Da Silva. Midfields made of Ji Sung Park, Nani and Welbeck. And strike forces of a fading Chicharito and a resurgent Berbatov.

La Liga is shite, but then again I digress.

Stamford Bridge on the other hand has not only moved from being a mattress (former fortress) but it has further evolved into being a common lay for teams that have the confidence to look upon the age of the Chelsea squad.

We will not go into matters of Fernando Torres, simply due to the fact there is nothing home to write about.

Again, we will also not talk about Andy Caroll because we are yet to see if he can step up and perform when his Uruguayan team mate goes on his 8 game ban.

Tottenham on the other hand have struck gold. Two games in hand, a 4 goal difference over Chelsea and to think that they lost their first two games of the season 3-0 and 5-1 respectively to United and Man City.


Liverpool today will be hosted at the Etihad. Manchester City have gone 2 games without scoring. Their cookie is crumbling. The challenge has been put up. But you never know with the Premier League. You have to wait till the end of the 38th game in order to lift that trophy.

Then there is the curious case of David De Gea. He is the mole, he is the leak.

You may be wondering why this blog's title is "The Return of the Ginger Bread Man". Well the reason is in tribute to one of the greatest string pullers the premier league has ever seen; Paul Scholes. There was a time he was injured, and when he came back, it was as if he had never left. This then is what The Puppeteer looks up to, the return to blogging about football.

The Queens of Europe

This week we look at matters differently. The Euro 2012 draw took place on Friday you football maniacs, and I'd be damned if I said I didn't drool at the sight of that group B. The pool of death sounds like a cliche, so lets call it the pool of twats. You ask why twats?.. Well here is why:

Netherlands:

I was convinced when Robben raced off clear the Spanish defence in that world cup final he was sure going to score. After all, that wanker put in a sublime effort to eliminate Manchester United out of the Champions league earlier that season. De Jong's ninja kick could easily rival Eric Cantona's flying kick from back in the day. And what does he get, a yellow card. Freaking brilliant (notice the sarcasm). The best chance in glory that this team has to have Sneijder fit and maybe get to the semi-finals.

Germany:

Ok, credit has to be given where it is due. For such a young team to dismantle England in the world cup in such a manner, then that has to be a special thing. Wait, that made no sense at all. The actual feat wasn't defeating England. I mean, England isn't a football super power (yeah i Said it). The last time they won something major was in 1966. Back to Germany, they have a young squad, brilliant passers et al, but the furthest they are going is the semi finals (and oh boy, don't they love getting out at this stage).

Portugal:

Sad as it is The Puppeteer is a fan of this team. I mean, they have pace, trickery, good ball carriers and what not. But all for what? Nothing. Cristiano fails on big occasions. No play-maker in the likes of Deco in their team. In brevity the best they can do is third in that group of twats.

I wont even talk about Denmark. But I have a eerie feeling they may go through.

You may be wondering why this blog is entitled  Queens of Europe. You wait till the tournament starts. Drama queens to say the least.  More on the Euro 2012 as it nears

To matters Champions League:

Yes, you are as shocked as the football fan next to you that Arsenal is the only English team to have already made it to the last 16. No one would have pegged them to breeze through their group that fast. In fact, Manchester United looked to be handed an easy group. Ole Gulati, Basel and the tricky Benfica. But as it seems now Benfica and MUFC are tied on 8 points and Basel is just a point away. For all we know the Great Manchester United may be playing in the Europa League if things go downhill.


Remember how Manchester City is the new CEO in a gentleman's club, well yes, that is how things are going for them. Their introductory season to the Big Boys Club is not a walk in the park. Their chances of geting to the last 16 are as slim as the chances of those fat slim possible people getting slim. They will have to sweat through their teeth to beat Bayern Munich and pray Napoli do not get anything off Villareal.

Stamford bridge used to be a fortress you know. Now its just a mattress. Chelsea seem to get laid there quite often this season. And when Valencia visit there later on tonight there will be a glimmer of hope in them with coming away with at least a point if at all not winning the damn match. Ever heard of the curse of the ex? If you haven't then this is what it means: This is when an ex player of a certain team either assists, scores (own goals included), gets red- carded or influences the game into the favour of his previous team that he is playing against. With this in mind Juan Mata is bound to score an own goal and then give an assist to Daniel Sturridge for the equalizer.

P.S

This Saturday there is the huge gay game between Real Madrid and Barcelona.

And on Monday Chelsea and Manchester City rub off each other.



And here you thought there were no football induced boners!

A Harty Perfomance

We had waited for this one. We sure had. Manchester City visiting the Kop. They were from enduring a loss in the Big Boys Game (read Champions League) and they were handling another stern test. And oh boy, Mancini was all out in an attacking mode. He had his three midgets out there. Nasri, Kun and their main string puller DAVID SILVA. You may wonder why I have put DAVID SILVA'S name in caps lock. Here is the reason why, he is a bad motherfucker. It takes one puppeteer to recognize another. The damages he has inflicted on teams this season is second to none. His reverse balls, his surgical through passes. Just beautiful, freaking beautiful. And here he was in a midfield that was to put Lucas Leiva, Henderson and Charlie Adam to the test.

Balotelli and Dzeko were on the bench for this one and Mancini's intentions were as clear as triple distilled vodka. He was out to score. Another bloke on the bench was Andy Caroll, 35 million pounds of a waste of footballing skin. Beside him was one man who has been a stalwart in the Liverpool defence, Carragher. This surely was set out to be a thriller.

And to our expectation it was. End to end stuff. At times I would even forget about the cold beer I had infront of me. As we expected, the blue quarter of Manchester was out to prove themselves contenders and not pretenders. The captain led by example he a-Kompany-ed his goal well. (hmmm that sounded lame, carry on though).

What transpired next is what is becoming a trend. An own goal from John Lescott. I blame his hair cut.
The game had switched gears, both teams were in it to win it now (not that they weren't from the beginning, but you get me...no?...ok ).

The second half was another story, Nasri failed to open up the Liverpool midfield. There was a time Nasri used to weave through defences like a death eater. Nowadays, he weaves through benches of away teams on a fat ass salary. Oh well, money talks loudest. DAVID SILVA was chasing shadows in the middle of the Kop. Lucas Leiva did his job quielty and efficiently, he broke play so well. He won tackles, aerial balls, he did everything perfectly. That monster of a man in Yaya Toure could not help either in the midfield. It was a bad day in the office. Milner and Barry had yellow cards and with the way the game had fired up, a red card was in the calling.

Out went Nasri, in came Balotelli. I am inclined to think that boy spends a lot of money on his hair. A Mohawk is as bad as it is, but what was that on his head. Anywho Mancini wanted to wrap up this one and move 6 points clear above Man Utd. But on coming on for a few minutes, Mario needlessly fouled Johnson and received his first yellow. The fiery Italian got his marching orders when he elbowed the Slovakian looking Ex Mossad,KGB looking assassin player Skrtel. Liverpool now had a clear chance.

The tricky king of nutmegs Suarez was at it again, running rings around the filthy rich Man City players. Kuyt put in a work rate that only a few can. But one man who put in an exemplary shift is JOE HART. England have found their tournament winner in this lad. He put his life for the team. Finger tip saves, reflexes of a cat, great command in the air.

Liverpool threw their all. Corners, free-kicks, headers..every thing. But J.H wasn't to be deterred. In the dying minutes of the game, he was at full stretch to deny Andy Caroll a sure winner. He then got up again and cleared a drive across goal from the toothy Suarez .

If this game did not give you a boner, then I am afraid you are gay.


P.S From Liverpool cult hero to 50 Million pound bench-warmer. Torres. He came on as a 77th minute substitute. The game was already won. Guess Chelsea don't need him after all.


P.S P.S Barcelona lost.

God Speed Gary Speed

As a football fan, please have a one minute of silence in tribute of Gary Speed.


OK then, we will commence. A great footballing weekend was tarnished by the untimely death of a magnificent footballer, but as sad as it is, the game must go on.

Now where was I? Oh yes, I had last spoken of a hard fought 1 nil win for Man Utd over the Toon Army. Everything was going on perfectly until Mike Jones... WHO? MIKE JONES...WHO??? MIKE FUCKING JONES awarded the Toons a hugely contentious penalty. Rio Ferdinand had done a magnificent job of tackling that french wanker Ben Arfa and the linesman decided to offer a penalty. A simple decision that would have been solved by video echnology blew the title race wide open. That other wanker Sepp Blatter must have been tinkling his pants when the decusion was made. Enough of that rant. On to the next.

Fulham vs. Arsenal. Well, this game was a quick one wasn't it? End to end. Teams from London have this thing where they can either bore the spleen out of you or leave you at the edge of the seat. This is only the occasion when they are playing teams not from London. But oh boy, when they have a go at each other, be sure to be entertained.

I know you were as shocked as I was when RVP did not score. He has been in such a rich form of vein that if it was possible Wenger would allow him to sleep with his daughter for bringing back Arsenal to life. Theo Walcott is another fella who has been criticized, but that lad has improved. His deliveries are almost as good as the pizza guy's, salivating. The Arsenal defence has shaped up defence-wise after they last shipped in 8 goals in one game. Vermaelen scored a brace in that draw. Interesting, I know. Up next for Arsenal is Man City in the Carling up. A competition where many have deemed it not worth it.But more on that later.

Whatever they are feeding Adebayor at White Hart lane needs to be fed to Andy Caroll at Mersey side. I mean, both of them are tall and lanky strikers, both of them have long undesirable hair, but the defining factor is that big AC cant score to save his beer belly. Adebayor once terrorized the West Brom defense. He had nine shots on target. Who does that??? Tottenham are one point behind Manchester United with a game in hand. Surely this must mean something. Despite starting the season with conceding enough goals from the Manchester clubs, Harry Redknapp has done a smashing job to revive that team.


Before I end this post, I cannot suppress the fact that this week saw some of the best saves in the premier league this season. Lets start with Krul. When I saw Vidic rise to the occasion and head the ball goal-wards from the corner kick all i was left to do was kiss the badge of my MUFC jersey, i was as sure that he had put that chance away. But then its a Krul world. The save that emanated from that header was world class. He made himself big and he blocked a sure winner. At the other end of the pitch De Gea showed why he is a bright prospect. A flash finger tip save over the bar from that young lad.

To the Fulham game, Mark Schwarzer produced a world class point blanks save to deny Djorou a rare goal. from where i was seated the Arsenal fans had already gone on a cheering spree. But you can never take away anything from this games until the whistle is blown.

Another master performance was that of Joe Hart against Liverpool. More on that later.



P.S Barcelona lost and Messi hit the post in the 94th minute. There is a possibility I would have cried if they had equalized.

Resurgence

Right into business then shall we?

Being as it is that this whole 'writing' experience did not start at the onset of the premier league (****or any other league), I will get right into the heart of the matter.

Money cannot buy happiness...or what was the saying to that? Anywho the citizens of Manchester seem not to agree to that (i.e. the blue quarter of Manchester) . They are quite content with being at the top of the table. The Sheikh waltzed in with oil money, went through the goddam football market and picked some of the finest players. And to add to those he had already spoilt with mega wages, the team rewarded him with the FA cup last season.

But things are different now, come Sunday another of those former glorious teams will put Man City to the test. No need to get sour o' yea scousers. I say former glorious team with no ill inhibitions. Their past of 18 domestic titles was surpassed by a Wayne Rooney penalty at Blackburn at the end of last season. The stand of Liverpool in European competitions took a down turn from 2005 and they even dwindled from the Europa league oblivious of teams above them. That aside, back to 27th Sunday where these two teams will meet.

Man City are like the new CEO who has been invited into an elite gentleman's club and were immediately reminded of their new status by being given the ugliest call girl( and by ugly I mean the one who gives no head). Napoli and Bayern gave them something to think about, and Liverpool will definitely pose another (somewhat threat).


This game in mind, I will not go into the lengths of how unbecoming Andy Caroll has lived up to his price tag. Also Henderson. But they are young (that's what they all say) and so we will give them time (to prove us wrong....or mostly right)

You cant tell me I am the only one who has thought of a scenario where Suarez will racially insult Balotelli...Then maybe his 'Why always me'? phrase will sink in with magnum effect. So i guess its only me then who thinks like that (and maybe Sepp Blatter...what a wanker).

There I go again drifting off and trying to suppress the fine fine form Robin Van Persie has been in. I am no Arsenal fan, but I give credit where it is due. In fact if RVP was to be judged based on his performance this year, then I'd be damned if they didn't give the BallonD'Or to his mother for bringing out into this world a magnificent player.  All that can be said at this moment is that Fulham should brace their little Craven Cottage for that dutch monster.

About the small matter of Manchester United against Newcastle, we'll discuss that later when the Red Devils struggle to a 1-0 win.

P.S
 ****La Liga is not a footballing league. Synchronized swimming has more competition than the Spanish League

Pulling Strings

Some (if not most) of you may wonder why this blog is called the puppeteer
I'm new to this so I decided to choose a corny name to get your football attention.
You remember that kid who used to be the best in football when you were little?

The one who's side you would want to take when teams were chosen?

Well yes

He was the string puller
The maestro 

With through passes that went through butter like a hot knife.

He may not be world class now, but back then...he was the one who sprayed the passes.
This then my rabidly frenzied football friends...is the puppeteer

The one who makes the ball dance at his feet like a marionette.

Here we wont rant about your relationship, we wont rant about your weave (though you shouldn't be having one)

We wont rant about the hike in fare prices, or that milf you've been eyeing in the office.

No, none of that week day stuff.

The unfair yellow card, the two footed tackle,
The snub handshake before kick off, the mangers spats, the tunnel jibes,
the racist slurs (yes even from that wanker Sepp Blatter, and especially his)
the games that make you want to tinkle yourself be it coz of excitement or because of fear of losing

This my hooligan friends is what the puppeteer will be all about. 

I still think its a weird name for a blog...oh well

Try and enjoy