Archive | April 2013

Antonio Valencia: Nobody knows anything

Someone, naming no names, wrote this about Antonio Valencia in April 2012:

They tell you that football is a game played by eleven, not one, but what is this sport, like the chocolate selection box you feel guilty for constantly treating yourself to, if you haven’t got your favourites? Valencia is the caramel hazelnut.

Things have changed. The caramel hazelnut that tasted so good has mysteriously disappeared; the wrapper*, of some sort of green-y, blue colour, is the same, but the contents are different. Some factory negligence or something.

When you look past the silverware and the guard of honours (i.e the important stuff (also: topical)), your favourites alone can make football worthwhile. It’s soppy, but true. It’s what makes a live game a little more enjoyable and your own sense of nostalgia feel unique and personal. Valencia could have confidently called himself a favourite of many not long ago, but, like life, extended chocolate metaphors and ’90s boybands, things invariably turn ugly. Fine, except it’s happened too soon. Valencia was better when he was one of the favourites. The Rafaels, De Geas and the Welbecks remain the milk ganaches, praline truffles and tangy oranges, but Valencia, this champagne-coffee-coconut-strawberry treat, is no longer among them.

Anything can be made to look better — or worse — when you have something to compare it to. Antonio Valencia has not had a good season. Put it next to the one before that and it’s been close to terrible. And, when you consider the expectation a player of his/at this level carries, ‘close to terrible’ still stands even if you were to completely isolate this season.

What’s more worrying is that it’s difficult to pin down why. For a player to become worse is expected; heck, Valencia is like any other winger, cursed from birth, but from one season to another and by this much? At 27? For such a superior United side? Is Garth Crooks more entertaining than he is thick? To simply put it down to confidence seems lazy, regardless if true, because it’s not really known how much confidence affects a player and then, if so, why it has such an impact. Does it suddenly erase natural ability? It could all just be a coincidence; that instead of having five or six forgettable games like he had last season, he’s had 25 or 26 out of his 30-odd this time around. What about the change of shirt numb- no.

In reality, it might be that United have set up differently in a way that hasn’t favoured the Ecuadorian. Sir Alex Ferguson has been bold with selection and constant with his changes: happy times for the wide-men in this joyful season where, at times, the manager has played just one or none at all (Valencia, though, has made as many league appearances as he had in his award-winning year). But it still doesn’t completely explain Valencia’s profligacy throughout, where, with the ball, he’s stumbled and stuttered (and not in the Valencia way of ’11, where his Garrincha stutter was his chief weapon), been matched by defenders he would usually get the better of and produced balls so unworthy of its homonym in the shadow cabinet. His struggles and the lack of answers for it suggests that football is a game better left alone, where all attempts at analysis are futile. Perhaps he was never that good at footb- no.

It’s hard being hard on Valencia, but ultimately justified. Singling him out makes sense because, one, he’s played the most games of all the wingers, and, two, because his descent is the most surprising.

All of this is less a criticism of the player than it is an expression of disappointment in a season largely lacking in these. It’s what makes you say ‘close to terrible’ instead of just ‘terrible’.

How sad. And, anyway, his best performance? The title-winning game against Aston Villa, perhaps, and in those around it up to the 1-1 draw at Arsenal on Sunday, but there’s little about a slight improvement to be enthusiastic about. There was also Chelsea in a cup replay — where he played at right-back, of course.

___

*Well, the non-bourgeois chocolate selection boxes contain wrapped chocolates.

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United defeated: a lot of everything but ultimately nothing

Ashley Young had one of his finest games in a red shirt — opposition and definition of finest considered — in Manchester United’s 3-2 win over Manchester City earlier this season. Good things barely repeat themselves, however, and so Monday’s reverse fixture was slightly different. Indeed, it was exactly that: a reversal of all the good we saw in December, where United — again, opposition considered — had looked like a team worthy of all of football’s best silver. Months later, reverse! Young played badly; the forwards frustrated; on this occasion, the midfield battle was lost and Phil Jones’ gurns officially went from amusing to disturbing.

United’s great lead, the one positive that would always have been regardless of the result, means they should get that silver, but what happened at Old Trafford yesterday cannot possibly be ignored. At least, it could, if it was a one-off. It wasn’t. Since the second leg defeat to Real Madrid last month, United have been unconvincing for five straight games.

This is a really strong United team. Not Sir Alex Ferguson’s best, but a capable team nevertheless. And what’s better than a strong, capable team? A strong, capable squad, which United have. The one of 1999, according to Ferguson, was “not nearly as strong as the squad I have got today.” It remains clear which is the better team but he feels this one has a greater number of options.

Which meant it was a shame that it wasn’t utilised as well as we might expect from Ferguson.

We saw it against Madrid; to respond well to Nani’s red card was always going to be difficult, but United had options on the bench they (a) either didn’t use or (b) or used too late (Shinji Kagawa and Wayne Rooney). This was just a one-off, so excusable. And, in the manager’s defence, United had both matched Madrid for sixty minutes and then found their options limited with a man short. But none of those can be used as defence here. It took 80 minutes for a substitute, and that was when the amnesiac Antonio Valencia had replaced Danny Welbeck. There was a second in the 85th minute, Javier Hernandez, and a third two minutes into stoppage time. That was Shinji Kagawa, a man whose velvet boots can find life where there isn’t any and change a game. Except he didn’t have any time to touch the ball.

What was also jarring was seeing an exhausted Ryan Giggs play 90 minutes in central midfield. The decision to start him was fine, but whatever you do with him, he’s still a 39-year-old. Back in December, United were able to keep Yaya Toure quiet at the Etihad with a two man midfield of Michael Carrick and Tom Cleverley. It didn’t matter so much that the opposition players were (arguably) better as individuals, or had outnumbered them. The visitors were set up to attack and the partnership worked with that in mind.  They gave that impression again with a few early, sweeping moves but Giggs and Carrick do not complement each other as well and that was soon realised, with Gareth Barry (exclamations!) performing well for City. Giggs has been wonderful to watch this season, but mainly because he’s been rationed and used properly. He played 30 minutes too many.

Meanwhile, Patrice Evra, Rafael and Young were not much better, Welbeck was a lot of things and Robin van Persie only really looked like Robin van Persie with the assist for the equaliser. Jones in central defence was United’s best player, but, in truth, there were so few candidates anyway. Rooney showed promise in the first half, and was kept on despite a sharp decline in the second, perhaps for his unique ability to have an impact even when not playing well.

It is tempting to conclude on a positive note. Just “12 points” and leave it at that. Because it was that sort of game, a depressing one … opposition considered. 

Creators of television series are pretentious enough to describe their shows as like a ‘book’; an episode is essentially a chapter. They mostly frown on critics for this very reason. The superb Boardwalk Empire‘s recent third season was its best despite the fact that the first half of the 13 episodes were average. (Not all relevant but) In the end, the plotlines in the average ‘chapters’ grew in importance and became more enjoyable as the season progressed – and so the pay-off was extremely satisfying. It’s a clunky metaphor for the football, in a way. The parts you’d rather forget do not have to be as troubling as they were in real time when you begin to consider the whole thing. If United go on and win the title in May, it may very well be like that. There’s this game and the last month or so, but then there’s everything before it. 

“Good things barely repeat themselves”? Not true. It only feels like that in bad times. 

12 points. 

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