English premier league for dummies
Football is being adopted by trend-setting elite who need to distance themselves from the common man game, cricket.
There has been an increasing amount of interest in the game of football in these parts in recent years. Strangely, the method by which it gained popularity in the rest of the world, entrenching itself amidst the plebian masses and the working class, has been turned on its head in Pakistan. Here it is being adopted by the trend-setting elite who need to distance themselves from the common man’s game of cricket, with the middle class following suit in imitation.
Or maybe I’ve been reading too much leftist literature. In any case, a new season of the globally popular English Premier League is underway, and it’s worth pointing out to newly interested people the five or six clubs that really matter, in my expert opinion.
Liverpool boasts a fantastic selection of famous players to admire from your living room, such as Stevie G. Well, actually, there’s just Stevie G. Not only does he sound like an unsuccessful jazz musician, he plays like one as well. Often cited as the best footballer in the Gerrard household, after the dog of course, his impersonation of a headless chicken out on the pitch is much more convincing than his impersonation of an intelligent human being off it.
Manchester is a city of industry. It hosts two of the richest clubs in the world. Manchester United, who built their wealth through a number of years of monopolising the top flight of English football, and Manchester City, who attracted the interest of rich Arab investors. Al-City, as it will soon be called, have spent something approaching Nasa’s annual budget to assemble a squad good enough for a top four finish. This tried and tested strategy will no doubt bear fruit, or vegetables, depending on their taste.
United meanwhile are in a bit of a bother with debt and therefore keep relying on players they signed during the 1960s such as Ryan Giggs and Paul Scholes. They also have the ‘white Pele’, Wayne Rooney, who plays very much like Pele would, if he put his football boots back on at his current age of 69.
Arsenal are an interesting football club, in that they suck horribly and yet manage to retain an international fan base. The Tudors were still ruling England the last time they won a trophy, which was some centuries before the Industrial Revolution.
Since then, theirs has been a story of misery and woe. Led by a Frenchman who couldn’t even get employment as a janitor back in his homeland, they are a young team filled mostly with pre-pubescent boys, thus finding it difficult to maintain discipline and consistency. They do especially badly in European competitions, because the matches are held at night, way past the players’ bedtime.
Finally, there’s Chelsea. Built on the oil money of Russian business tycoon Roman Abramovich, this is a club that has carved its name into the annals of English football history, mainly by purchasing the annals themselves. Who says money can’t buy happiness? The East Londoners have never been more jubilant.
The current incarnation of the side is a little old but led by the peerless and, judging by the way he throws himself to the ground at every contact, soon to be toothless Didier Drogba, they are a force to be reckoned with. You throw enough money about and success will come running towards you. Even their players’ names are all about money. Cashley Cole, Petr Cheque, Frank Bankdraft, and so on.
Oh and there’s also Tottenham, who play in white and think they’re Real Madrid. But they aren’t, so they don’t matter.
Published in The Express Tribune, September 12th, 2010.
Or maybe I’ve been reading too much leftist literature. In any case, a new season of the globally popular English Premier League is underway, and it’s worth pointing out to newly interested people the five or six clubs that really matter, in my expert opinion.
Liverpool boasts a fantastic selection of famous players to admire from your living room, such as Stevie G. Well, actually, there’s just Stevie G. Not only does he sound like an unsuccessful jazz musician, he plays like one as well. Often cited as the best footballer in the Gerrard household, after the dog of course, his impersonation of a headless chicken out on the pitch is much more convincing than his impersonation of an intelligent human being off it.
Manchester is a city of industry. It hosts two of the richest clubs in the world. Manchester United, who built their wealth through a number of years of monopolising the top flight of English football, and Manchester City, who attracted the interest of rich Arab investors. Al-City, as it will soon be called, have spent something approaching Nasa’s annual budget to assemble a squad good enough for a top four finish. This tried and tested strategy will no doubt bear fruit, or vegetables, depending on their taste.
United meanwhile are in a bit of a bother with debt and therefore keep relying on players they signed during the 1960s such as Ryan Giggs and Paul Scholes. They also have the ‘white Pele’, Wayne Rooney, who plays very much like Pele would, if he put his football boots back on at his current age of 69.
Arsenal are an interesting football club, in that they suck horribly and yet manage to retain an international fan base. The Tudors were still ruling England the last time they won a trophy, which was some centuries before the Industrial Revolution.
Since then, theirs has been a story of misery and woe. Led by a Frenchman who couldn’t even get employment as a janitor back in his homeland, they are a young team filled mostly with pre-pubescent boys, thus finding it difficult to maintain discipline and consistency. They do especially badly in European competitions, because the matches are held at night, way past the players’ bedtime.
Finally, there’s Chelsea. Built on the oil money of Russian business tycoon Roman Abramovich, this is a club that has carved its name into the annals of English football history, mainly by purchasing the annals themselves. Who says money can’t buy happiness? The East Londoners have never been more jubilant.
The current incarnation of the side is a little old but led by the peerless and, judging by the way he throws himself to the ground at every contact, soon to be toothless Didier Drogba, they are a force to be reckoned with. You throw enough money about and success will come running towards you. Even their players’ names are all about money. Cashley Cole, Petr Cheque, Frank Bankdraft, and so on.
Oh and there’s also Tottenham, who play in white and think they’re Real Madrid. But they aren’t, so they don’t matter.
Published in The Express Tribune, September 12th, 2010.