Blogger: #14
"If you want entertainment, go and watch a bunch of clowns"- Alan Durban, former Stoke City manager.
I can imagine how this must be for you. I do apologize profusely and all that. When one's local football blog, the one run by the bright fellows living down the street, takes an unannounced hiatus, one fidgets. One scours the web, hoping for some signs of life. Much like misplacing that thriller you've been reading, eh? You search, you search, and finally you throw your arms up in the air in resignation and get yourself another whodunit from the library. You struggle to tear yourself away from the old plot and immerse yourself into this new mystery. But by and by, you manage. And just when you forgot all about the discovery of Count Bradley's corpse in the lake and worked yourself up about the missing diamond necklace of Lady Agincourt, you find the old humdinger underneath your pillow. Can't be pleasant that. Our latest resurrection would undoubtedly reignite your interest in the Count's corpse and with a heavy heart you wave Agincourt, in this case, The Guardian, or The Daily Mail, goodbye.
So, what brings us back to life, you ask? Well, like the leopard that stalks its customary morning antelope, we've been waiting for something that would spark us into action, you know? The lowering of the guard, so to speak, enabling the leopard that is this fine football blog to pounce upon the unfortunate antelope. The antelope in this case being the debate that Chelsea's dogged 2-0 victory against Liverpool at Anfield has sparked about the beauty of the game.
Now, long story short, Chelsea came to Liverpool's den, defended for their lives, took their chances when they presented themselves, and then went back to defending for their lives. All very smash and grab stuff. Raiding that would make a certain Attila doff his hat at the Dark Lord of Defense that is Jose Mourinho. However, there's been a general outrage about the manner of victory. The consensus of this outraged section being Chelsea ought to have been more enterprising. That they were "negative" and "boring". Which really is an interesting debate that polarizes most fans. Does style matter? Is merely winning not enough? It's a philosophical debate that nobody can ever really put an end to, so yours truly is here to give you his take on things. Yes, it took me 3 paragraphs to get to this, deal with it.
Now, as an Arsenal fan, I have never really had to complain about entertainment. In fact, I've often wished for dour, comfortable 2-0 victories. If Arsenal were to change to a more pragmatic style, you wouldn't find me complaining. No Sir, whatever works. Winning with style is great, but if I had to choose one of the two, give me winning all day. Keep your style, thank you very much. A season's worth of grinding out 1-0s is fine by me if it fetches us the league.
Well, that's my two cents. "But what about delighting the spectators? What about entertaining the fans?", cry out the purists. This is where, my romantic friends, I differ from you. Sport, for me, is not entertainment. Sport is art. When my team grinds out a 1-0, or blows away the opposition 6-0, the base emotion is the same, I am happy. "But art is beautiful!", shouts one purist. Of course it is. But art is also subtle. Pain is art. Struggle is art. Repulsion is art. Entertainment is but a shallow feeling. One that seldom permeates to the heart of a supporter. The fans who watch it for entertainment do lose out on the bigger picture. And losing out on the bigger picture often deprives you of the better story.
I can see a few purists scratch their heads. Allow me to explain using music as an example. What sort of music sells? The Justin Biebers of this world sell. The Rihannas sell. I don't mean to undermine their appeal, but this sort of music is easy to interpret, easy to understand, and thus, easy to listen to. There aren't too many layers to the thing. It's more entertainment than art. But take a truly complex piece of music. An Iron Maiden song, or a Beethoven symphony. It won't get people onto the dance floor, but when you listen, actually listen, it speaks to your soul. It stirs a story within you. A story you never knew you could tell. A story you never suspected of knowing. But it takes effort to appreciate this. It takes time. Because, Beethoven is not entertainment. Beethoven is art.
"So is beautiful football!", cries one purist triumphantly.
So it is. Undoubtedly. And so is dour, defensive football. Don't follow? Let's look at a much maligned genre of music. Death metal, with it's growling and incredibly heavy sound, is often dismissed as trash. But when one actually looks at how much complexity is involved, and takes the effort to actually listen, there is a sense of appreciation, if not enjoyment for the art form. It is art. It has layers, complexity, it evokes a reaction, it demands effort from the listener. It is everything that Beethoven is, and yet, it is everything that it isn't. It isn't about the nobler emotions, it's about the wilder side of things. But yet, it is art, no?
I see a few eyebrows being raised. "What is this idiot saying?", mutters one. "I don't know, but he seems to be quite sure about himself", says another. "Why is he writing about our reactions, when he knows nobody will read this garbage?", asks a third, a most intuitive fellow. True though that undoubtedly is, I shall plod along nevertheless clinging onto slivers of hope that have not yet been crushed. So, what am I saying?
I'm saying that if one can win with a bit of oomph then well done. Fair play to you. But if one wins with a zzzz more than anything else, well done again. As long as the team's playing within the rules, I don't think it ought to be chastised. Take Barcelona for example. All they do is pass, pass, pass, pass, pass and then pass some more. It bores me frankly, but hey, somehow it's hailed as beautiful football. It won them everything, so I'm not arguing against its effectiveness. I just fail to see how defend, defend, defend which, if you notice, has the same monotonous feel to it as Barcelona's tiki-taka is condemned to the gallows.
It is art. "What, it is ART?!", screams yet another purist. I try shushing him, but he does not relent, "Explain, my good sir! Explain!" he says. And so I shall. With support from a very unlikely corner. The purist is uneasy. "Well..?", is all he can muster.
Well, one of the greatest champions of the "Winning with style" school made a statement that I surprisingly find to be in favour of my argument.
"If you want entertainment, go and watch a bunch of clowns"- Alan Durban, former Stoke City manager.
I can imagine how this must be for you. I do apologize profusely and all that. When one's local football blog, the one run by the bright fellows living down the street, takes an unannounced hiatus, one fidgets. One scours the web, hoping for some signs of life. Much like misplacing that thriller you've been reading, eh? You search, you search, and finally you throw your arms up in the air in resignation and get yourself another whodunit from the library. You struggle to tear yourself away from the old plot and immerse yourself into this new mystery. But by and by, you manage. And just when you forgot all about the discovery of Count Bradley's corpse in the lake and worked yourself up about the missing diamond necklace of Lady Agincourt, you find the old humdinger underneath your pillow. Can't be pleasant that. Our latest resurrection would undoubtedly reignite your interest in the Count's corpse and with a heavy heart you wave Agincourt, in this case, The Guardian, or The Daily Mail, goodbye.
So, what brings us back to life, you ask? Well, like the leopard that stalks its customary morning antelope, we've been waiting for something that would spark us into action, you know? The lowering of the guard, so to speak, enabling the leopard that is this fine football blog to pounce upon the unfortunate antelope. The antelope in this case being the debate that Chelsea's dogged 2-0 victory against Liverpool at Anfield has sparked about the beauty of the game.
Now, long story short, Chelsea came to Liverpool's den, defended for their lives, took their chances when they presented themselves, and then went back to defending for their lives. All very smash and grab stuff. Raiding that would make a certain Attila doff his hat at the Dark Lord of Defense that is Jose Mourinho. However, there's been a general outrage about the manner of victory. The consensus of this outraged section being Chelsea ought to have been more enterprising. That they were "negative" and "boring". Which really is an interesting debate that polarizes most fans. Does style matter? Is merely winning not enough? It's a philosophical debate that nobody can ever really put an end to, so yours truly is here to give you his take on things. Yes, it took me 3 paragraphs to get to this, deal with it.
Now, as an Arsenal fan, I have never really had to complain about entertainment. In fact, I've often wished for dour, comfortable 2-0 victories. If Arsenal were to change to a more pragmatic style, you wouldn't find me complaining. No Sir, whatever works. Winning with style is great, but if I had to choose one of the two, give me winning all day. Keep your style, thank you very much. A season's worth of grinding out 1-0s is fine by me if it fetches us the league.
Well, that's my two cents. "But what about delighting the spectators? What about entertaining the fans?", cry out the purists. This is where, my romantic friends, I differ from you. Sport, for me, is not entertainment. Sport is art. When my team grinds out a 1-0, or blows away the opposition 6-0, the base emotion is the same, I am happy. "But art is beautiful!", shouts one purist. Of course it is. But art is also subtle. Pain is art. Struggle is art. Repulsion is art. Entertainment is but a shallow feeling. One that seldom permeates to the heart of a supporter. The fans who watch it for entertainment do lose out on the bigger picture. And losing out on the bigger picture often deprives you of the better story.
I can see a few purists scratch their heads. Allow me to explain using music as an example. What sort of music sells? The Justin Biebers of this world sell. The Rihannas sell. I don't mean to undermine their appeal, but this sort of music is easy to interpret, easy to understand, and thus, easy to listen to. There aren't too many layers to the thing. It's more entertainment than art. But take a truly complex piece of music. An Iron Maiden song, or a Beethoven symphony. It won't get people onto the dance floor, but when you listen, actually listen, it speaks to your soul. It stirs a story within you. A story you never knew you could tell. A story you never suspected of knowing. But it takes effort to appreciate this. It takes time. Because, Beethoven is not entertainment. Beethoven is art.
"So is beautiful football!", cries one purist triumphantly.
So it is. Undoubtedly. And so is dour, defensive football. Don't follow? Let's look at a much maligned genre of music. Death metal, with it's growling and incredibly heavy sound, is often dismissed as trash. But when one actually looks at how much complexity is involved, and takes the effort to actually listen, there is a sense of appreciation, if not enjoyment for the art form. It is art. It has layers, complexity, it evokes a reaction, it demands effort from the listener. It is everything that Beethoven is, and yet, it is everything that it isn't. It isn't about the nobler emotions, it's about the wilder side of things. But yet, it is art, no?
I see a few eyebrows being raised. "What is this idiot saying?", mutters one. "I don't know, but he seems to be quite sure about himself", says another. "Why is he writing about our reactions, when he knows nobody will read this garbage?", asks a third, a most intuitive fellow. True though that undoubtedly is, I shall plod along nevertheless clinging onto slivers of hope that have not yet been crushed. So, what am I saying?
I'm saying that if one can win with a bit of oomph then well done. Fair play to you. But if one wins with a zzzz more than anything else, well done again. As long as the team's playing within the rules, I don't think it ought to be chastised. Take Barcelona for example. All they do is pass, pass, pass, pass, pass and then pass some more. It bores me frankly, but hey, somehow it's hailed as beautiful football. It won them everything, so I'm not arguing against its effectiveness. I just fail to see how defend, defend, defend which, if you notice, has the same monotonous feel to it as Barcelona's tiki-taka is condemned to the gallows.
It is art. "What, it is ART?!", screams yet another purist. I try shushing him, but he does not relent, "Explain, my good sir! Explain!" he says. And so I shall. With support from a very unlikely corner. The purist is uneasy. "Well..?", is all he can muster.
Well, one of the greatest champions of the "Winning with style" school made a statement that I surprisingly find to be in favour of my argument.
“I believe the target of anything in life should be to do it so well that it becomes an art. When you read some books they are fantastic, the writer touches something in you that you know you would not have brought out of yourself. He makes you discover something interesting in your life. If you are living like an animal, what is the point of living? What makes daily life interesting is that we try to transform it to something that is close to art.”- Arsene Wenger
Chelsea defended so well that it became art. They stopped an absolutely rampaging Liverpool attack which was pillaging all comers. It was a nullification, a defanging, a declawing. It worked. Their doggedness was a triumph of substance over style. A triumph of the steady, dependable guy who holds the umbrella for the girl over the swashbuckling charmer who takes her dancing in the rain. A triumph of the kid who slogged all year for the finals over the genius who slacked off all year (not saying Liverpool didn't try, think of the analogy in terms of style and substance, thanks). Struggle is an art. The next time you gasp at a beautiful field of flowers, remember that it all started with the digging of some pretty ugly furrows.
History remembers the victors. Sure, there are notable exceptions. The Dutch team of the 1970s, the Brazil of the 80s come to mind. For good reason too. But to dismiss success because it failed to take one's breath away is a tad ridiculous. Branding it "negative" is something that one fails to understand. If the target is being achieved, one really can't complain can they? Or call it negative.
In years to come, if there is a team that sweeps all before it while playing an enterprising brand of football that takes the breath away, people will undoubtedly toast it. But, if this all-conquering team wins its battles by digging in, by organizing itself, by being defensive (and not negative), I hope people realize that what they're witnessing is art in itself. Don't bring the pitchforks out, because Durban had a point. Go watch clowns if you want entertainment. Or 'Modern Family', that's a pretty good show.
Don't agree with me? Agree with me but don't want to agree with me because I'm really annoying? Let us know which side of the fence you're on in this philosophical battle, drop in a comment.
Thanking you,
Yours sincerely,
#14
