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Southampton's very pleasant Saturday
In fairness to the rest of the Premier League's slate of games on Saturday, there were stories — interesting stories! — to be found virtually everywhere. Sergio Agüero scored four against Tottenham Hotspur in the early game, four, coincidentally, also being the number of penalties awarded by match referee Jon Moss. Newcastle finally got themselves a win thanks to the unlikely figure of Gabriel Obertan, Chelsea continued their title push with a brilliant team goal and Arsenal Arsenaled again. Even the return of the effervescent Ross Barkley was enough to make a routine 3-0 home win for Everton must-watch football.
And, like the upstarts that they are (third place, 16 points from 8 matches), Southampton decided to outdo everyone by dropping eight goals on an all-too obliging Sunderland. After seeing the scoreline it almost beggars belief that the Black Cats had one of the top defensive records in the league prior to their implosion at St. Mary's, and after seeing the goals themselves the only explanation that springs readily to mind is sorcery.
The opening goal was a masterpiece of ineptitude, the sort that goes well beyond the boundaries of mere incompetence and becomes a brilliant little gem. Had Santiago Vergini been a Southampton centre forward rather than a Sunderland defender, his volley would have been perfect. On the turn, ferociously struck and placed such that it bent past Vito Mannone and into the bottom corner. That's no mere own goal, of the sort Richard Dunne and Steven Caulker treated the world to on Sunday. There are mistakes, and then there are temporary bouts of insanity that lead you to do great things for the opposition.
Which rather set the tone.
After the Vergini volley, Sunderland might have collapsed. But, to their credit, it took them a little while longer, and the visitors were in the game all the way until 3-0, when, having been denied a penalty for a stonewall foul by Fraser Forster, they immediately conceded. After the break is when things really got messy: Liam Bridcutt forgot where his own feet were to add another own goal to the Black Cats' doomed cause, and Mannone himself decided that he was done caring if his teammates were with a hilariously weak clearance to Dusan Tadic for Southampton's sixth.
While Sunderland were abject, the Saints were utterly, utterly ruthless. Every point matters right now, and every tick of goal difference does as well. Finding themselves with easy opposition, they took full advantage, racing forward at every opportunity to pad the lead. A 'normal' rout — call it 5-0 or so — is the confluence of one team having a terrible day and the other having a brilliant one. What, then, of 8-0?
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QPR-Liverpool gets a little bit silly
If playing badly and winning is the mark of champions, then playing well and losing is, surely, a sign that a relegation-threatened team are completely screwed. Which means, judging by the events of Sunday lunchtime at Loftus Road, that we can congratulate Liverpool on finally winning their title, and wave a cheery goodbye to Harry Redknapp's motley band of self-merkers.
Because make no mistake about it: QPR played pretty well. Admittedly, Liverpool's defence has all the structural integrity of a violently overripe banana, but for the whole of the first half, the home side faced down their opponents all over the pitch. Sandro growled menacingly around the middle of the park, Richard Dunne looked like a centre-half rather than a banterous hat-merchant, and Bobby Zamora glided and shimmied like an own-brand Zlatan. Indeed, apart from the trifling matter of missing a few open goals, QPR put in their best performance for, what, a couple of seasons?
And still, they lost. They lost because the football gods are cruel and capricious. They lost because they decided to moan — quite justifiably, not that it makes any odds — about the awarding of a free-kick rather than defend it. They lost because of three cruel deflections from their own cursed feet. They lost because Philippe Coutinho appears to have cheered up a bit and Raheem Sterling, contrary to reports, didn't miss the second half because he was having a nap. They lost, in the final analysis, because they decided to take a non-attacking attacking free-kick.
Maybe we need to be generous about their decision making. Getting from 0-1 to 2-2 in five minutes isn't something that happens every day, and there's no manual for that sort of thing. But when a side manages that in fine, hilarious style, and then gets another free-kick that is almost certain to be the last act of the game, they've two choices. Stick or twist. Twist: send the defenders forward, put in a proper delivery, apply yet more pressure to Liverpool's leaking, rotting defence. Or stick: do something, anything, to keep it from the feet of Liverpool's good, quick players. Pass the ball around the back a bit. Chip it long into the corner. Hoof it out of the stadium.
Either option is fine; one is riskier than the other, but brings with it reward. What should not happen, however, is a twick. A stist. A halfway house, a miserable compromise. Think about twisting, decide it probably isn't a good idea, start sending the defenders back, make sure everybody is slightly uncertain about what's happening, ensure Steven Caulker is facing the wrong way, then chip the ball limply into the box. QPR could not have left themselves more exposed if they'd written 'PLEASE COUNTER ATTACK NOW' on the ball, then turned around, closed their eyes, and counted to ten. Maybe they were relying on Balotelli's finishing to keep things tight at the back. Doesn't work, that plan, when the defenders are kicking the ball into their own net.
At the end of a game elevated to purest farce by some rank decision making, this was the rankest set of decisions of them all. Maybe the home side's brains were scrambled by all that had come before; maybe Adel Taraabt's conditioning was distracting them. But the overall impression is that QPR are a broken mess of a team, incapable of taking advantage of even their own occasional decent performances. On the off-chance you're reading this, Tony Pulis, don't stray too far from your phone. Unless the QPR hierarchy decided to stist, or twick, then it can surely only be a matter of time.
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Inter, Napoli both flatter to deceive
Inter Milan’s clash with Napoli on Sunday was always likely to be a gripping match. With the jobs of both coaches and the seasons of both teams on the line, there was everything to play for. In the end, it didn’t disappoint, with four goals scored in a breathtaking final quarter-of-an-hour. But for both sides, the draw is a result that doesn’t really do much; it neither gives them the momentum to push on up the table, nor their underperforming coaches the push.
That it took almost 80 minutes for the match to get going is a pretty damning indictment of both teams, in a match that largely lacked quality and inspiration. Once again Napoli’s two best players, Marek Hamšík and Gonzalo Higuaín failed to deliver, with the latter still yet to score this season. Once again, Inter were let down by terrible defending — Nemanja Vidić the chief culprit as his Italian nightmare continues.
The dramatic draw will probably be enough to ensure that both coaches will get at least one final chance to prove their worth, but, on this evidence, it'd be better if they were both fired.
In the first half, Walter Mazzarri’s Inter were allowed to dominate the game, by a Napoli team that sat uncharacteristically deep. But instead of using the creativity of their midfield playmakers Mateo Kovačić and Hernanes, they all too often resorted to hopeful long shots and a string of optimistic crosses into the penalty area. Inter looked like a team without a game plan, and made it easy for a Napoli defence that was there for the taking.
At the other end, with Hamšík and Higuaín failing to fire, Napoli were completely impotent until José Callejón popped up and announced his arrival with a brace late in the match. Rafael Benítez’s side looked completely disjointed, and despite the coach urging his defence to push higher up the field, they sat deep, and so struggled to push the ball into midfield without playing it long. Strange selection decisions like starting centre-back Miguel Britos on the left of the defence over the talented young full-back Faouzi Ghoulam didn’t help matters.
Both of these sides have good players, and players that would be more than capable of slotting into a scudetto-winning side. But it’s clear that the quality of their star individuals isn't enough to make up for their complete absence of team cohesion. For that, both coaches need to take their share of the blame. If not, Serie A could remain a two-horse race for a long time yet.