Watching the draw for the group stages of an international tournament has always been something of a mystical experience. For one thing, they are almost always presented in English, despite it not being the mother tongue of the people running the show. Further, we come face to face with the “Question in English | Answer in Russian/French/Ukrainian” interview technique, though what illusions of spontaneous human multi-lingualism one may have held are shattered when the hostess reads her reactions to the interviewees answers off a pre-prepared card.

The show begins. Having never witnessed Cossack dancing in the past, I find the opening section of the show to be quite fascinating. Finally, I had discovered the inspiration for MC Hammer’s famous trousers. Our genial hosts are an extremely pretty Ukrainian lady and a Polish man, whose authentic English accent with a hint of Estuary is slightly unnerving. Has he been in Eastenders? After a short video montage, we stare down the barrel of truly unlistenable football-themed Europop, along with some rather creepily enthusiastic backing dancers.

Following this, one member of each of the previous 13 winning teams is wheeled out, holding an authentic signed football from that tournament. After the introduction member of Italy’s 1968 winning team, the camera cuts to a chirpy-looking Fabio Capello, sporting easily the biggest smile he’s managed during his tenure as England boss. Then follows one of those socially awkward moments where no-one’s really sure of the proper etiquette: the formal introduction of a football. The official match ball of Euro 2012 is dangled from a cable and receives a fairly generous, if slightly uneasy round of applause.

After what feels like days of foreplay, we are then forced to watch an instructional video for the machinations of the draw. It’s like sitting in the staff room at Woolworths and watching a 10 minute video of a man lifting a box “correctly”, leaving you with the same feeling of your life ebbing away before your eyes.

UEFA General Secretary Gianni Infantino then takes over, hosting with all the flair of a strict headmaster handing out end of term awards to over-excited children. Zinedine Zidane is chided in French for being too enthusiastic with his handling of the first ball. Peter Schmiechel’s bolshy attempt at ad-libbing after Denmark are again drawn with Portugal leads to a few moments of decidedly awkward silence as Infantino desperately tries to get back on script. Any tension there may have been prior to the show has long been replaced by an overwhelming desire to get the whole thing over and done with as soon as possible so everyone can get down the pub.

The dignitaries in attendance who had long ago slipped into a coma are about to be startled by another bout of feisty Europop, but apart from that, the whole thing is over. Ireland are drawn with Croatia, Italy and Spain (gulp), while England face Sweden, France and co-hosts Ukraine. Back in the BBC studio, Mark Lawrenson is visibly aggrieved at Ireland being drawn in the toughest group, while Martin Keown raises his eyebrows bullishly and thinks England “will be fine.” Without Rooney, Martin? We’ll see.

Group A: Poland, Greece, Czech Republic and Russia;
Group B: Holland, Denmark, Portugal and Germany;
Group C: Spain, Ireland, Croatia and Italy;
Group D: Ukraine, France, Sweden and England.

There was a recent article in the Evening Standard about the current situation regarding the ownership of Arsenal, in which the writer, Dan Jones, encouraged their fans to embrace the overtures of significant minority shareholder Alisher Usmanov, who is considering moving to secure shares to bring in his stake in the club above 30%. This is a meaningful amount as he would then be able to gain access to the club’s accounts, and he would be subject to the Premier League’s “Owners and Directors test” (the efficacy of which is certainly a debate for another day). If passed, he would then increase pressure on current majority shareholder Stan Kroenke for a seat on the board, a notion that the American has so far refused to entertain.

“Silent” Stan took over in April of this year, something that looked rather unlikely 4 years ago when then-shareholder Danny Fiszman said, “We would be horrified to see ownership of the club go across the Atlantic” – despite having sold a small amount of shares to Kroenke the previous month. It was at that time that David Dein ended his 24-year association with the club, citing “irreconcilable differences” with the board. With £470m of new stadium debt hanging around the club’s neck, Dein was strongly in favour bringing in a wealthy new investor to alleviate some of the financial pressure that had been placed on the club. The rest of the board preferred to keep the club “in the family,” so to speak, and hoped the club could continue to succeed whilst living within its means and paying off its debts.

Such a chasmic difference of opinion was always going to lead to an acrimonious departure, but Dein still had his stake in the club and believed he could achieve his vision for it by other means. In August 2007, he sold up to Usmanov’s investment vehicle Red and White Holdings, a not-so-subtle nod to the ambitions of the company. From that point, both Usmanov and Kroenke started gradually increasing their share allocation in the club, with neither wanting to pass the 30% mark which would force a mandatory takeover bid. Kroenke was appointed to the Arsenal board in September 2008, and finally bought a controlling stake this year when Fiszman sold his shares due to declining health. He also acquired Lady Nina Bracewell-Smith’s shares at this time.

And so here we are this week, with Usmanov’s machinations once again in the spotlight. Dan Jones’ article in the Standard made light of convictions Usmanov received in the USSR in the 1980’s: for “complicity in an official’s receiving bribes and extortion”, though such an explicit description was notably absent from said article.

I found myself thinking Usmanov was rather desperate in trying to portray himself as whiter-than-white in the media. If he had done nothing wrong, if his record was so immaculate, why were the Arsenal board so ferociously keen in keeping the club out of his hands? He has been portrayed as “the bad guy”, but has spent the last 3 years waging an intense PR war to convince the entire world of his benevolent nature.

Finally, I remembered. I saw it in Private Eye. The reason not a bad word has been written or spoken about him is because the media is shit-scared of upsetting him and incurring his considerable wrath. This was part of a letter he sent to all major UK newspapers prior to 2008:

Mr Usmanov was imprisoned for various offences under the old Soviet regime. We wish to make it clear our client did not commit any of the offences with which he was charged. He was fully pardoned after President Mikhail Gorbachev took office. All references to these matters have now been expunged from police records . . . Mr Usmanov does not have any criminal record.

Why would a completely innocent billionaire take such an aggressive stance against the media? Well, I’m afraid I can’t tell you. My resources simply don’t compare to those of The Man. However, if you’re wondering where I’m going (or indeed where I’ve been), I’ll direct you to the sole beacon of investigative reporting to have taken a stance, and why Silent Stan’s Arsenal takeover is by far and away the preferred alternative:

http://www.craigmurray.org.uk/archives/2007/09/alisher_usmanov/

I had originally taken umbrage with Jones’s article because he implied it’s was Arsenal fans’ entitlement to success that should push them into backing a more wealthy investor. The feeling of contempt I felt for the article led me into writing this piece. Unfortunately, I don’t feel in a position to comment on the real motivations behind his piece, as I don’t have a lawyer. Yet.

The collective negotation of TV rights between Premier League clubs has so far remained largely untouched. Despite the top flight being decaptitated from the rest of the Football League in 1992, this ostensibly socialist approach to the distribution of wealth has tinges of a hangover from the pre-premier dark ages. Not to ignore the dearth in variation of title-winning teams since then, one can still argue that the league as a whole has at least maintained some semblance of competitiveness.

We should grateful that La Liga is so shamefully two-sided. Barcelona are thrilling to watch of course, but the self-propagating financial superiority that they and Real Madrid enjoy over the rest of the league starkly illuminates the danger of allowing the big boys to plough their own furrow when it comes to TV money. Dave Whelan, the Wigan chairman, has never been one for understatement, but his branding of Ian Ayre’s suggestion that Liverpool sell their own foreign TV rights as “diabolical” is not too far wide of the mark.

Ayre’s logic is sound, of course; the Asian markets are dominated by fans of the new-school big 4. But it’s just not as a cut and dried as he is trying to make out. If the big boys start going it alone, then the top flight will be on a one-way trip to La Liga-dom that will take decades to recover from. The Premier League is already two-tiered enough; those with Champions League aspirations, and those trying to avoid relegation. Start breaking up the collective bargaining and you start truly destroying the league. The reason the Premier League is such a successful foreign export is precisely because of the collective bargaining agreement, not in spite of it. Who’s going to pay good money to watch Liverpool tank a load of no-hopers 7-0 every week? No-one. It’s pointless.

What sets the PL apart from La Liga is that most teams believe, on their day, they can be competitive in a one-off fixture against a top 4 side. I’m not talking about a cup tie giant-killing – I can only remember Chelsea putting sand on the pitch to stop a superior team in the last 10 years – I mean a mid or lower mid-table side raising their game a little and getting a result. Man Utd have looked irresistable going forward this season, but you feel they could still be vulnerable at the back, and they will have a rocky patch at some point – they always do. All it takes is one result to trigger a period of uncertainty and lack of confidence.

That’s not to say the league is open, by any means. I’m not naive enough to think that. But I saw Barcelona’s procession to the Spanish title last year, and it was pathetic. Boring. I don’t want the same thing to happen in this country, and that’s why I’m advocating resistance to this newly mooted breakaway from collective bargaining. The finances of almost all the Premier League clubs are screwed and skewed enough without removing the one thing that keeps it interesting.

I’ve written previously about England’s Golden Generation and the innate technical definiciencies that have prevented them from succeeding on the world stage, versus the consistent domestic success many of the players have achieved. This dichotomy is perhaps perfectly embodied by Frank Lampard.

After 10 seasons of being ostensibly untouchable as a 1st choice, Lampard is starting to look increasingly surplus to requirements at Stamford Bridge. In his time there, he has scored 116 goals in the league alone, and is close to racking up 350 PL appearances. His record as a goalscoring midfielder is a tremendous one, and his longevity is admirable.

Lampard, though, has always had his critics. Since Jose Mourinho introduced 4-5-1/4-3-3 at Chelsea, and through the diamonds of Scolari and Ancelotti, the team has very much been tailored to suit his needs; he likes to arrive late in the box, he likes to pick the ball up on the edge of the area, he enjoys shooting from long range. And all through Chelsea’s period of success, he has had more technically gifted midfielders around him; not just a water carrier, but someone to silently pull the strings while Lampard makes all the headlines.

From 2003, Claude Makélélé was the relatively unheralded heartbeat of the Chelsea team, (at least until he had gone; abscence makes the heart, etc), while in Mourinho’s first season, Lampard was accompanied mostly by the oft-forgotten Tiago, or occasional stand-in Alexey Smertin. Michael Essien followed the season after, Michael Ballack has been and gone, Jon Obi-Mikel remains a perennial stand in. And all this time, the fulcrum of the midfield, Lampard has remained.

Now, while it seems he has finally fallen out of favour, it is by no means a vindication of his critics. It’s often been said that Lampard has “made the most of his talent,” technically lacking but possessing the unlearnable gift of being in the right place at the right time. It’s irrefutable that Lampard has been blessed by playing alongside incredible talent, and under managers willing to set the team up around his strengths. For his supporters, it’s playing alongside such players that has allowed him to fulfil his potential. For his detractors, it’s the proof that he has always been carried by his more gifted team mates, his achievements over-glorified by a fawning media and a raucously vocal Chelsea fan-base.

For me, his limtations have always been exposed when playing for England. He and Steven Gerrard must take equal blame for the national team’s recent failings, for the inability to adapt their games to make a central midfield pairing, for having egos so big they coudn’t rein in their gung-ho instincts. I’ve always suspected the main reason Gerrard and Lampard couldn’t work together was because they didn’t like each other very much, but that’s a discussion for another time.

This is no obituary, and Lampard is by no means on the scrapheap. But at the ripe old age of 33, it remains to be seen whether he will accept a more peripheral role at Chelsea, or if his need to be the main man will force him to look for pastures new. At that age, and with the pace of the Premier League, he simply can’t be the same player he was. Does he have the nous to re-invent himself as a player, step aside from the limelight and change his game, in the way that Paul Scholes did in his twilight years at Man Utd? Or is he so driven to “be the man” that he will search for success elsewhere? If that were to be the case, he would almost certainly have to take a cut in his reputed £140,000 a week wages. For now though, Lampard’s career remains in an unprecedented state of limbo.

You have to admire Christiano Ronaldo’s recent response to an evening of Croatian insults. I mean, ‘I’m rich, handsome and a great player.’ At least it reassures the world those nasty Zagreb fans haven’t dented his precious confidence. But is he right? Let’s have a look.

1) Yeah he’s got a few quid, something to the tune of the (alleged) $38 million he earned in 2010. Certainly not to be sniffed at; 2) Handsome? Well, that’s more difficult for me, a paragon of heterosexuality, to give an opinion on this but, yeah – I’ll admit he has a certain oily charm. But then, so does a bag of chips, but ok, I’ll give him a tick here too. 3) Is he a great player? Well…yes, he is. He is a massively wealthy, good-looking arrogant man. I mean really, really, really arrogant…but yeah, lets face it – he’s a great footballer.

So what’s that, er… three-nil to Mr Ronaldo, the hat trick, the old three for three. Turns out that he is indeed rich, handsome and a great player. A kind of adonis of a human being, a glowing example of footballing achievement. But is this the sole explanation of why he is oh so easy to hate?

Actually, yes. Very much so. You see, with your average football fan, you can find the perfect microcosm of the human animal at large. And that animal at it’s petty heart, despite all protests to the contrary, is of course a jealous, jealous thing. Yeah, of course we dislike you for your success, and yeah of course its our flaws and not your brilliance that’s the problem. Its just…do you have to be such a dick with it?

Liverpool to Lille, “I raised an eyebrow,” Joe coolly explained. As well he might. Bench-warmer to playmaker, and that’s playmaker at the French Champions, playmaker in the Champions League. It’s a good move, Joe. I’d lower those eyebrows.

But how can he be sure it’s not going to be a case of out of sight, out of mind? Is this really the best way to get back into the thinking of Mr Capello? (I’m assuming Mr Capello will be too lazy to take the hour and a half train from Kings Cross to Lille; he still hasn’t quite mastered the English language, so…) All I’m really saying is, he could have gone to Tottenham, QPR, even Villa – might that not have been, I don’t know a bit…safer?

It was probably the fact that these three wouldn’t meet the alleged £90,000 per week wage demands made by Cole and his entourage, that saw the crafty cockney (can i use that, or has Eric Bristow copyrighted it?) hot footing it to his local Euro Star. But what must be considered as well, in the (admittedly mandatory sycophantic) unveiling press conference Cole spoke of having always wanted to play abroad. He also stressed his admiration for the French Champions style of football; they’re like Barcelona apparently.

So maybe I should suspend my cynicism and applaud the move as a brave and innovative way of coming in from the international cold. So good luck to him. And if all goes well maybe we’ll see other international rejects taking a similar approach to resurrecting their England careers. Heskey to Marseille? Wayne Bridge to Olympiakos? Joey Barton…I don’t know…somewhere in Turkey?

After this week’s news that clubs may be forced to interview black candidates for vacant managerial positions, 30 yard sniper looks at racism in football management.

Kicking racism out of football management is something I feel strongly about, but the ‘I’ is not the ‘I’ that supports and admires the message of the ‘Kick It Out’ campaign, but rather the shamelessly selfish one that wants my team to win, to be managed by the best available.

Charlton Athletic Football Club should stand as something of an example; they are, after all, one of only two English League Clubs to currently employ a black manager. The point of this is not to aggrandise my club for being on the right side of a shameful fact, but to show the decision to appoint Powell for what it was: a good football decision by an astute board.

Following on from the colossal dynasty left behind by Alan Curbishley, the decision makers at Charlton were left with a hard job. Who ever they appointed would inherit a poisoned chalice that would be passed around a string of unfortunate bosses.

Firstly, in May 2006, Iain Dowie was appointed. A hard working, respected ex-pro, renowned as something of a thinker for a footballer (he has a degree in rocket science, or something along those lines), and who at the time was still broadly thought of as a promising young manager. All of these things are all well and good. But as a former player and manager of local rivals Crystal Palace, he had no affinity to our club, he had no real proven track record in Premier League management, or keeping teams up whilst there. I don’t think it came as much of a surprise to the majority of Charlton fans when he was sacked twelve league games later with only two wins to his name.

Anyway this isn’t the time to list and evaluate everything that came between Curbishley and Powell (I’d quite happily do it, but…) Lets say managers came and then they went. Some had management pedigree (Pardew), some understood what the club was about (Parkinson and Kinsella) but none had that particular magic formula that makes a certain manager work at a certain club.

After the defeat on penalties to Swindon in the semi-finals of the play-offs (this was a very dark time, as you can imagine adjusting to the thought of playing a third season in the third tier of English football must have been), new owners were required, a new direction; something new and fresh was needed.

This is what Slater, Varney and Murray (Chairman, Executive Vice Chairman and Director respectively) did, what was so important for my football club. They thought about exactly what was needed, and didn’t just cast their line in to an overstocked pond to pull out whatever they hooked, ready to chuck it back the moment it began to flap uncomfortably about (you’ll notice I have a penchant for overextending fishing metaphors, wonder where I get that from…)

The result of this careful deliberation was Powell. At the time Slater said,

   ‘As soon as we met Chris, it was clear he was the stand out candidate.’

And that the point isn’t it – they gave him the chance to impress in an interview, he did, they followed through and gave him the job, and now they’re supporting him and his vision for the club. They facilitated a summer spree that saw 16 new arrivals at The Valley (importantly, Chris Powell signings). The results have been immediate.

Now, of course I am aware that football makes us all look an ass from time to time. So if the results take a downturn seeing Powell sacked by Christmas, then what?

Hopefully it will be seen for football reasons, Charlton can move on, and so can Chris Powell (having proved himself an articulate, insightful and charismatic boss – which he is by the way). It is an area of concern, though, seeing as black managers do seem short on the second and third chances most need to find their feet in such a tough profession (Ince, Barnes). The football management industry is overcrowded and massively competitive (even the Paulo Di Canio’s of this world having to start at Swindon).

All football clubs take advantaqe of the abundance and diversity of the playing talent on offer. So when it comes to choosing a manager, clubs should cast their nets high and wide (again, with the fishing, sorry). Don’t look to the same faces, which allows select few managers play swapsies with our clubs as they inch their way up the greasy pole. Such narrow thinking may not be borne of prejudice, but it is certainly as stupid.

When you want to hire a new manager, get everyone in to explain what they want for your club, what they can do for your club. Because if you are a Chairman and you’ve got someone in front of you enthusiastically explaining their vision, if this vision match your own hopes and dreams, then whatever colour they are won’t matter. If clubs are forced to interview black managers in order for this to happen, then that can only be a good thing.