New Kits, but No New (First Team) Players

Alright kids, gather ’round, it’s time for this week’s installment of Transfer Theater.

But, before we get to all the wheelings and dealings that may or may not be taking place, allow me take a quick detour to discuss Liverpool’s newest kits.

Released on Thursday, but having been posted on numerous sites across the Internet for quite some time, adidas and LFC officially unveiled the new away kit. Although I rather liked last season’s fire engine yellow (a subtle nod to the Spanish national kit, I thought), swapping it for white (again) is not necessarily a bad move. The problem is, we ended up with training gear passed off as a proper kit.

 

The white shirt with red accents looks sharp, but is ruined by the red arches (or whatever the fuck those are… maybe they’re supposed to be Liverbirds?) emanating from the armpit to the shoulder with the ‘tails’ wrapping around the stomach. I’m used to (and reluctantly accepting of) these types of designs on shorts (and lucky us, the design has been incorporated in our new ones), but shirts should be held to a higher standard.

That is to say, they shouldn’t be ass-ugly.

An Open Letter to the Family Dog

The entry you’re looking for has moved.

It’s new home is at My Manifesto.

Summer Silly Season

There are a lot of footy enthusiasts who don’t enjoy the summer off-season. It’s understandable enough; after ten months of intense action, you now have nothing, save the international match-ups and the MLS. Outside of the manager merry-go-round, the only news stories being generated are those of reckless transfer speculation. Truth tends to fall to the wayside as ’sources close to the club/player’ (usually the best friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend who heard from this guy who knows this kid who’s going with the girl who saw Ferris pass out at 31 Flavors last night!) are credited with ridiculous and outrageous claims which alternately frustrate and excite the gullible fan. One day an editor might trot out an outdated story (like ‘Henry to Barca’), only to contradict it the very next day in another piece. And, so rarely does anything ever come of this prattle, besides antagonizing the fans, upsetting the club and unsettling the odd player. It’s easy to see why many fans don’t care for it and tend to ignore it.

I, for one, love reckless transfer speculation.

No Points for 2nd Place (but there are medals)

 

Yesterday’s Champion’s League Final loss hurt. A lot. It’s rare that I let the outcome of a sporting event play such a driving role in my mood anymore, but Wednesday’s disappointment simply took it out of me. Struggling to write about it afterwards, I started once, deleted it and started again. This is as far as I got:

2-1, Milan vanquish Liverpool to win the 2007 Champion’s League.

*low guttural groan*

While it’s challenging to make the proper keystrokes while in the fetal position, I’m managing to multi-task between that and licking my wounds after that game.

Shades of Red: A Liverpool Fan Roundtable

Ahead of this Wednesday’s Liverpool – AC Milan Champion’s League Final and some ill-advised bulletin board material from Ancelotti & Gattuso, I’ve decided that in lieu of another mediocre preview by yours truly, I’d instead query some other Liverpool fans (whose sites/blogs I readily enjoy) about the big game, this past season, and what the future might hold for the mighty Reds.

So, I wrote up a few questions and asked them to weigh in, much like a poor man’s version of the “Spyin’ Kop” found over at RAWK. Basically, let them do the heavy lifting for me. And lift they did. (remember, kids, use your legs not your back)

Introducing my panel of ‘guests’, in their own words…

Nate of Oh You Beauty… is more than happy to grasp any chance to write in the third person. He is a Cancer (astrologically and metaphorically), and spends far too much time thinking about a team on the other side of the ocean. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Amanda at You’ll Never Blog Alone just finished her second year of law school. She distracts herself from justiciability doctrines by following Liverpool (and England) and playing in two rec leagues.  She would like to be Jamie Carragher when she grows up, but with better boobs.

James from The Red Cauldron a graduate from a local polytechnic in Singapore (yes, in Asia) and is a holder of Diploma for Computer and Communication Engineering. Fell in love with Liverpool watching the Newcastle-Liverpool game back in the late 90s and used to adore Owen. Currently no favourite player on the list but that could change in years to come.

A(nfield) Forgettable Farewell

So ready was I to watch Robbie Fowler’s last game in red before the Kop (and possibly, in fact, ever) that I woke up extra early on Saturday, with plans of coffee and bagels before God’s goodbye. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until after my ever-awesome coffee was finished brewing that I remembered the Premiership’s last round of games was on Sunday.

D’oh.

Instead, I got my Saturday footy fix later that evening by watching the hometown Charleston Battery lock horns with Miami FC at the ever comfortable Blackbaud Stadium. As a overly deliberate Battery, who lack speed and creativity, frustrated the more attractive visitors, I wondered if this game wasn’t forshadowing the Red’s home finale. The match ended with two fortuitous goals for the good guys and the clean sheet to match, but unfortunately, that would prove only half-right in predicting the outcome of the next day’s game.

Solving the World’s Problems

The entry you’re looking for has moved.

It’s new home is at My Manifesto.

An Open Letter to Jorge Valdano

Dear Mr. Valdano,

As a diehard Liverpool supporter, I want to thank you for your recent input on the recent Champion’s League semi-final between my beloved Reds and Chelsea Football Club.

Allow me to quote you: (from Soccernet.com)

‘Football is made up of subjective feeling, of suggestion – and, in that, Anfield is unbeatable. Put a shit hanging from a stick in the middle of this passionate, crazy stadium and there are people who will tell you it’s a work of art. It’s not: it’s a shit hanging from a stick…’

‘Chelsea and Liverpool are the clearest, most exaggerated example of the way football is going: very intense, very collective, very tactical, very physical, and very direct.

‘But, a short pass? No. A feint? No. A change of pace? No. A one-two? A nutmeg? A backheel? Don’t be ridiculous. None of that. The extreme control and seriousness with which both teams played the semi-final neutralised any creative licence, any moments of exquisite skill.’

How I Like My Women Just Like My Coffee…

The entry you’re looking for has moved.

It’s new home is at My Manifesto.

To Greece, We Ride On!

What a result.

After 90 minutes plus of regulation and 30 of extra time, I’d practically rubbed my beard away. It was everything I thought it might be: tense, exciting, hard-fought and tortuous.

I’d attempted to pen a preview of the match-up yesterday, but bottled it. I simply couldn’t make it through. There was too much to be said and I wasn’t in condition to present it in a special way, to write something that wasn’t going to be pedestrian at best. This is all I managed on Monday: