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*stumbles into barbelith, just to say*
God, I know it's only football, but that Sven bloke really pisses me off. Yesterday morning I was thinking there's NO WAY he'll be able to produce one of his spurious 'footballing reasons' as to why he shouldn't pick Jermain Defoe this time, what with his favouritist strikers all being injured at the mo.
But no! Hell, I'll be interested to hear the full Svennish reasoning behind this one. Because, obviously, form doesn't matter if he's picking Crouch, and injuries don't matter if he's picking Owen and Rooney, and now, apparently, sheer talent doesn't matter either, not if it's the sort of talent that might conceivably push a half-fit Michael Owen out of the starting line-up. Erikkson doesn't like subs that threaten his first teamers, so Walcott's perfect: he can go to the tournament and be safely sat on the bench the whole time to 'gain experience,' just like wot Joe Cole has had to do for howevermany years, and Defoe has to stay quiet and watch as some child - who isn't even playing football at the moment - is now being picked ahead of him.
Gahhh.
And I don't like feeling remotely sorry for bazllionaire footballers, but this seems so horrid. So mean. Defoe's got the sort of talent that *should* get the chance to glitter and sparkle in a World Cup. Fucking Sven's got the rest of his life to count his money, but Defoe's only going to be this young, this fast, this ace, once, NOW.
Yes, I’m a bit grumpy-drunk. No, it doesn't really matter. But still. S'not bloody fair.
Finished now. |
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