Matty Lawrence shared his thoughts with First Touch on the state of football in 2015. Read what the ex-Millwall, Fulham, and Crystal Palace defender had to say, and argue with him at your own risk!
Who were the EPL winners and losers of 2015?
There were some amazing highs and lows in the 2014-15 season. (Jake Livermore, impressively, managing both at the same time). So it would be impossible to hit every moment of intrigue and notoriety, but let’s try and get close.
The genius of Jose Mourinho
The man is aloof, arrogant, cock-sure, and every other similar adjective. But, boy, does he know how to assemble a squad and win games of football. Any of you naysayers who had the gall to call Chelsea ‘boring.’ hang your head in shame.
From opening day of the season, the majority of us (I hope you did, too) had them down as title winners: I’m not sure that any of us could have foreseen the canter at which they proved victorious, though.
I love the fact that Chelsea handled the pressure of front-running. Man City did get close as Chelsea slipped up around the middle of the season. But Mourinho just pushed the clutch down and slipped his team into a higher gear.
Hazard and Mourinho, ably abetted by Terry, Cahill, Courtois et al, absolutely demolished the opposition. Enough about them.
Taxi for Brendan Rodgers
Can we now tiptoe down to sixth place in the final Premier League standings and discuss the positives and negatives of a certain Brendan Rodgers? Time is precious, so Monsieur Rodgers will get off lightly.
In summation: how the bloody hell is he still in a job at Liverpool? The guy has put his foot in his mouth more times than the contortionist I saw in the darkest depths of Amsterdam last summer. First, he ridiculed Spurs for the slack way they spent Gareth Bale’s transfer fee before doing the same himself with the Suarez money. Then he let Spurs crash into fifth place on the last day of the season. Time to get his steel-toecaps out of his gob and call for Jurgen Klopp.
As we trickle a little further down the league, we start hitting the real overachievers. The triple ‘S’ of Southampton, Swansea City, and Stoke City were the real stories of the season. All three teams were magnificent. How times have changed.
Saints Alive
I have no qualms in admitting that I recently thought Southampton could be heading for the drop: what do I know? I dismissed them with a swish of my hand and not a second thought for the fact that Ronald Koeman may actually know what he is doing. So I bow down and acknowledge my misgivings.
Remember that they recently lost Shaw, Lallana, Lovren, Chambers, and Lambert. Also, Rodriguez was injured all season. Koeman, the shrewd cookie, brought in Tadic, Pelle, Forster, and Mane. Boy, did they flourish. Seventh place they finished: only two points behind last season’s first team!! (Keep up at the back.)
Season Of The Monk at Swansea
And on to Swansea City. I’d like it noted on record, your honour, that I have a maniacal dislike of Garry Monk. I ever met the guy, and I’m not sure he ever elbowed me in Division Three back in the day. But I struggle to watch his interviews without needing a sedative at the same time. Look, it’s my problem, and I will find a solution.
Football-wise, the guy is a winner. Monk (lower league clogger) took over from Laudrup (genius footballer of note) and didn’t bat an eyelid. Monk took it all in his stride and upped the ante and produced a wonderful Swansea side that was a privilege to watch.
Even when they lost Bony, Garry Monk didn’t miss a heartbeat. Without a shadow of a doubt, Monk was my manager of the year. Swansea’s wage bill was minimal, and their transfer budget was a good couple of noughts below the hierarchy above (and a fair few below). I’ll pop a cork for Garry Monk. Fantastic season.
Mark Hughes transforms Stoke City
The third ‘S’ in the symmetry was Stoke City. Somehow, Mark Hughes hauled himself out of the cesspit that was QPR and achieved a formidable ninth-place finish in the EPL. Hughes transformed Stoke from a team playing the ball in the air more than a beach volleyball team to a crop of players who wanted to get on the ball and actually pass it with their feet, rather than hoof it 40 yards with their head. Sparky, hats off.
If he achieves the same again next year, I will be bloody gob-smacked. Once is luck and twice is skill, as my dear old college coach used to say.
Up the Palace!
Let’s now highlight the team that secured the final place in the top 10 in the EPL. Crystal Palace somehow found themselves so far up the league that they suffered more nosebleeds than I ever did crossing the halfway line. Who can they thank? Step forward, Alan Pardew.
Step off the edge of the precipice every Newcastle fan who held aloft a ‘Pardew out’ sign earlier in the season. You utter, utter bell-ends!! Alan Pardew has systematically rescued Palace from the brink of relegation. An atom bomb couldn’t wipe the smile from his face, and rightly so.
Leicester City on the rise in 2015
Nigel Pearson is the next manager who needs a million plaudits: that may well be an understatement. I had bet Leicester City would be relegated about Christmas time. I’m basically homeless now because of them. That squad of players, marshalled by Pearson, won seven of their last nine games. How? Apart from Cambiasso, none of them had played football before. Okay, the keeper’s Dad used to be a player, but that was about it. Give me some artistic license!!
Farewll QPR, Hull and Burnley
Now let’s pay tribute to the relegated teams. Look, Burnley and QPR were goners from the get-go. Burnley’s wage bill was akin to my local McDonald’s, and their transfer budget was slightly less than Wayne Rooney’s hair transplant bill.
QPR on the other hand spent the GDP of a large South American country on wages and transfers. They still played like the staff at my local McDonald’s. Chris Ramsay sure is the man to drag them back into the EPL (I’ve always hated sarcasm). So, the final place in the relegation hell-hole fell to Hull City/Hull Tigers. Let’s talk quietly, but we all wanted the trap door to fall on Steve Bruce’s Newcastle, even half of the Geordies did.
England fans pay respect to France
Shortly after the horrific terrorist attack in Paris that killed 130 people, France visited Wembley for an international match. The extraordinary show of empathy for France that night was truly remarkable. The Tricolore was everywhere, painted on the faces of men and women: it was even beamed onto the Wembley arch.
For once, the multi-billion dollar TV deals, and transfer fees, along with the private jet lifestyles of the players, paled into insignificance alongside the show of unity at Wembley Stadium on the night of Tuesday, November 17th. Credit in bucket-loads goes to the French national team.
Only days earlier, that team had been caught up in the eye of the storm at the Stade de France bombings. The German national team, facing the French team that evening, was forced to sleep in the dressing room. The passage to their hotel was deemed too dangerous.
Togetherness through football
The French team hunkered down with them and proved that there is a togetherness in football that transcends any bitter rivalries. This act of kindness was not necessary: the French players could all have left the Stade de France in relative safety, but under the stewardship of coach Didier Deschamps, they carried out this unselfish act.
On top of this, to a man, the French team decided not to bow to terrorists and still play in that scheduled friendly against England. Eeven Lassana Diarra played, whose cousin was among the victims in Paris.
The players circled the centre-spot and linked arms with one another – England, France, England, France – and the crowd belted out La Marseillaise in their best pidgin French usually reserved for “une biere, s”il vous plait,” in the cafes of Paris. The French themselves were enamoured by the response they received. Every French newspaper on Wednesday morning hailed the solidarity of two great nations that have had more than the odd cross word, or two, in the past few centuries.
“Scoop: The English love us,” stated a wry little piece from La Liberation.
Sonia Delesalle-Stolper wrote, “We discovered that all the French-bashing ridicule – those digs about our smelly cheeses and us having garlic breath – was one big misunderstanding. We can say one thing for sure: the English know how to welcome people.”
Now, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves, those generalised digs will surely return. But that night of solidarity was heartfelt and true. Both Football Associations, the police, all of the security services involved, and the players and fans need commending.
England 2 France 0
And, just to prove that football rivalries remain intact, ‘What a bloody result. I know I shouldn’t read into the game itself, but I’m going to anyway. C’mon, a 2-0 victory against a decent French team and the emergence of English players unabashed, not even a little scared to fail, and with a mass of energy. I have to be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d see it again.
Who were the most injury-prone players of the past decade?
2015 was a vintage year for the injury-prone. A newspaper article at the time made me sit up and take notice. Daniel Sturridge was questioned on whether some of his previous niggles and injuries had been more psychological than physical. He alluded to the fact that some may be hereditary!
What players would you deem the most injury-prone? Solely concentrating on the last decade within the English Premier League, my choices are Daniel Sturridge, Kieron Dyer, Michael Owen, Jack Wilshere, Carl Cort, and Darren Anderton. That list took me all of 30 seconds to come up with. When you delve further, longer ago, there were many others.
I also said “deem” injury-prone. The majority of them ARE injury prone: no two ways about it. Look at the facts and figures, and they are frightening. Certainly “frightening” if you are the poor bugger shelling out for the transfer fees and wages.
Michael Owen (Aug ’04 – May ’13)
£24m in transfer fees and just 84 league starts. That’s without the sky-high wages. That’s fewer than 10 starts a season. Yes, he was a phenomenal player for Liverpool and England at an early age. But the minute that first hamstring injury took hold, his career hit the skids, and he never recovered.
Carl Cort (Jul ’00 – Jan ’11)
£9m in transfer fees and just 127 league starts. This time, just over 10 starts a season. Another player who excelled as a younger pro, but knee injuries hampered him throughout his career. Almost unbelievably, he still passed medicals and still found people to throw good money after bad.
Kieron Dyer (Aug ’07 – Jul ’13)
£6m in transfer fees and a whole lot more in wages. In his time, he managed only 25 league starts. That is fewer than five starts a season.
The facts and figures are laid bare for all the players, but before I fall into a statistical coma, I feel I should end with Daniel Sturridge. After all, he started the ball rolling (pun very much intended) on this subject.
Sturridge down (Jul ’09 – May ’15)
£15.5m in transfer fees (and probably a figure nearly exceeding that in wages) yielded just 86 league starts in six seasons. Less than 15 starts a season, and possibly a little elbow towards the reasoning behind his exits from both Man City and Chelsea.
The common factor with all these players? They all have the ability to change a game, or score you a hatful of goals. Some managers peer through their rose-tinted spectacles and think that the bad run of injuries may just dissipate. I fear there is probably no such thing as just injury-prone.
There is way more to it than that: the physiological make-up of the player and the genetics down the family line must be delved into. I know that players have medicals before they join a club, but sometimes that is just not enough. Many players I know have passed medicals only to breakdown a few weeks later with pre-existing conditions.
Dyer Warning
Having spoken to some physiotherapists, they tend to allude to the fact that some players’ bodies are just not designed for the rigour of professional football. Kieron Dyer was certainly one of those players. The longevity was never going to be there. A good few seasons at the beginning of his career, and you could largely draw a line under the last six seasons of his already short career.
Wilshire wilt
Jack Wilshere, unfortunately, went the same way. I hid behind the sofa every time he went in for a tackle. His ability was nigh on limitless (no-one forgets him running the show for Arsenal vs Barcelona at the tender age of 17 years old). His ability was never in question, but I believe he needed an almost non-contact style of play to remain in the game for a further decade.
The screening of players by clubs has got to get better. No fans want to see their hard-earned cash being wasted on another crock. The medical teams at clubs cannot just look at the here and the now and the scans and X-rays they have at their fingertips. As Daniel Sturridge himself said, some things may just be hereditary.
The Neville Brothers go to Valencia
Imagine not being able to do anything in life without being trumped by your brother. You are blessed with football talent, and you play for Manchester United. Your brother plays more than you. You finally make the majestic step up and play for your country. But your brother has been there, done that, and played more times than you.
So, you think, “Bugger this,” and take yourself off to Spain after your career ends. There, you take up the coveted position of coach at Valencia FC. What an honour, what an achievement, and massive plaudits for taking yourself out of your comfort zone.
Well, blow me down, five minutes later, your brother shows up and becomes your new boss. Bloody liberty. Poor old Phil. How on earth is this even possible?
Sky’s the limit for Neville
I love him as a pundit on Sky Sports, and I’m sure he puts out a magnificent cone when in his part-time position as England coach, but head coach of a big-time La Liga team like Valencia? Do me a favour. Where on earth are his qualifications? Please don’t point me towards his coaching badges or his absolutely glittering playing career. None of that matters one iota.
I mean, where are his qualifications for running a football club on a day-to-day basis? He doesn’t bloody have any. This is an appointment of bewildering proportions. That is, until you delve a little deeper.
Let’s be honest, you don’t need to delve that deeply. Peter Lim is the majority shareholder of Valencia FC. Lim was number eight on Forbes magazine’s list of Singapore’s top 50 richest people. Lim is an avid sports fan and owns 50% of Salford City FC, which is also owned by Phil Neville, Gary Neville, Nicky Butt, Paul Scholes, and Ryan Giggs. I guess you see where this is going now?
Potential Car Crash in Spain
Nepotism rules the world. Sometimes, there is no point trying to jump aboard the rollercoaster of life because you just weren’t invited. Oh, I mean, unless your Daddy, or metaphorical Daddy, owns the rollercoaster. Gary and Phil Neville have been handed the keys to the playroom by their “father.” No need to tidy up when you are finished, boys; somebody else will be paid to take care of that.
Look, I’m viewing this situation with my usual slab of cynicism, and, boy, would I love them to be successful. But I just can’t see that happening. David Moyes has already tried it and cast aspersions on any future British coaches being viewed favourably. I just can’t get past this lack of experience. Throw the lack of language skills into the equation, and we should have a veritable car crash situation in the offing.
