Right. The time has come to issue our Team Of The Tournament. Although my absolute favourite player-in-song-title from South Africa 2010 is ‘Ello John, Got Inamoto? (credit to Dan), I’ve gone for an eleven that reflects performances on the park.
A couple of parish notices. Eye Of The Schweinsteiger is asked to play the defensive midfield role he’s used to fulfilling for his club, rather than operating in the more advanced position from which he thrived in South Africa. Mary Had A Little Lahm comes in at left back, where he’s equally comfortable as in his usual right-sided station. Unlucky absentees are Rockin’ Robben and Hold Me Klose (himself a late replacement for Don’t Stand So Klose To Me).
I’ve plumped for a 4-4-2, which has the flexibility to become 4-5-1 with Villa The World slotting into a wide left midfield berth; or 4-3-3 if Sneijders On The Storm and Villa The World push forward to flank I Can’t Help Forlan In Love With You; or even 4-1-4-1 or 4-1-3-2 with Eye Of The Schweinsteiger in that withdrawn role. Players’ numbers are, broadly speaking, those that correspond to the evolved 4-4-2 system. For a full explanation of how each number came to represent a particular position, see the excellent Inverting The Pyramid, by Jonathan Wilson:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Inverting-Pyramid-History-Football-Tactics/dp/0752889958
(That’ll be a tenner, Troph).
That South Africa World Cup XI in full, then:
1. Villar So Vain
2. Oh Maicon I Can’t Believe It
3. Mary Had A Little Lahm
4. Eye Of The Schweinsteiger
5. Puyol Live In A Yellow Submarine
6. Lugano Go Far, Kid
7. Mueller Kintyre
8. Iniesta-day
9. Villa The World
10. I Can’t Help Forlan In Love With You
11. Sneijders On The Storm
And it would be remiss not to put forward an All-Time XI.
Imagine I Wish I Was A Little Bit Augenthaler and Sweet Charlton Mine (Jack) bearing down on you from centre half, with All I Need Is Vieira I Breathe ‘protecting’ them!
It’s a funny old world where Bobby Charlton misses out and brother Jackie gets the nod. But the way I see it, the elder Charlton has lived in his brother’s shadow too long, the poor lad (or ‘laird’, as Big Jack would have it).
All-time World Cup XI:
1. We’re Zoff To See The Wizard
2. Are You Cohen To Scarborough Fayre?
3. While My Guitar Gentile Weeps
4. All I Need Is Vieira I Breathe
5. Sweet Charlton Mine
6. I Wish I Was A Little Bit Augenthaler
7. The Future’s So Breitner I Gotta Wear Shades
8. Whiskey In The Jairzinho
9. When Eusebio Nothing At All
10. Pele That Funky Music
11. Waddle You Wanna Make Those Eyes At Me For?
Thanks for reading, thanks for contributing. More sport-related japery soon.
Tuesday 13 July 2010
Wednesday 7 July 2010
While My Guitar Gentile Weeps
OK, someone’s been cheating.
Since the publication of Navas What I Call Music, new suggestions for 2010 World Cup players in song titles have been literally trickling in. Some are posted on the original blog but others have been reaching me via other means. Among my favourites are Sneijders On The Storm, Mueller Kintyre and Iniesta-day.
However, a text arrived only this morning with an effort that’s in flagrant breach of the rules: Mrdja On Zidane’s Floor.
Clearly, the use of a player not appearing at South Africa 2010 bars this entry from inclusion. Shame on you, nameless person, for attempting to squeak it under the radar.
And yet. It does open up the possibility of an exciting new list. An all-time greats collection, featuring World Cup stars of yesteryear. Inspired by the shameful cheat, here are a few to get us started:
Murder On Zidane’s Floor
While My Guitar Gentile Weeps
Sweet Charlton Mine (we don’t normally do individual credits, but thanks to the missus for this one)
I Would Walk 500 Gemmills
Banks For The Memories
All I Need Is Vieira I Breathe
Little Green Baggio
Cry Me A Rivelino
Are You Cohen To Scarborough Fayre?
We’re Zoff To See The Wizard
The Future’s So Breitner I Gotta Wear Shades
Pele That Funky Music
When Eusebio Nothing At All
I Wish I Was A Little Bit Augenthaler
Since the publication of Navas What I Call Music, new suggestions for 2010 World Cup players in song titles have been literally trickling in. Some are posted on the original blog but others have been reaching me via other means. Among my favourites are Sneijders On The Storm, Mueller Kintyre and Iniesta-day.
However, a text arrived only this morning with an effort that’s in flagrant breach of the rules: Mrdja On Zidane’s Floor.
Clearly, the use of a player not appearing at South Africa 2010 bars this entry from inclusion. Shame on you, nameless person, for attempting to squeak it under the radar.
And yet. It does open up the possibility of an exciting new list. An all-time greats collection, featuring World Cup stars of yesteryear. Inspired by the shameful cheat, here are a few to get us started:
Murder On Zidane’s Floor
While My Guitar Gentile Weeps
Sweet Charlton Mine (we don’t normally do individual credits, but thanks to the missus for this one)
I Would Walk 500 Gemmills
Banks For The Memories
All I Need Is Vieira I Breathe
Little Green Baggio
Cry Me A Rivelino
Are You Cohen To Scarborough Fayre?
We’re Zoff To See The Wizard
The Future’s So Breitner I Gotta Wear Shades
Pele That Funky Music
When Eusebio Nothing At All
I Wish I Was A Little Bit Augenthaler
Thursday 1 July 2010
From Relight Ketsbaia to Navas What I Call Music
It all started in 1997. Big Tony and I were tickled by a Sun headline that read ‘Relight Ketsbaia!’ after the Georgian had scored for Tone’s beloved Newcastle United the previous evening. And it got us thinking. How many song titles featuring Premier League players could we think of?
In no time, we had a good couple of albums’ worth. Stand-out tracks included Di Canio Feel It?, Le Saux-ing The Seeds Of Love, Hazy Shade Of Winterburn, Owen Me Owen You and the sublime Do Ginola Way To San José? Tony kept a notebook of all entries that passed muster, and the list was updated regularly.
The rules, as they evolved, were straightforward. Both song title and player had to be immediately recognisable. Songs and players could only be used once on the list, which led to some tough editing choices – would we plump for Ndlovu Is A Battlefield, The Greatest Ndlovu Of All or All You Need’s Ndlovu? (We went for the last-named, but not before a heated committee meeting.) Where the player name was the same as a word in the song, this would render it inadmissible. For example, Old King Cole would not do, whereas London Cole-ing would, assuming it fulfilled the final and most important criterion: that it made us both chuckle.
Inveigling others into the game held its own perverse pleasure. First, select your target: a football fan, certainly; a music lover, ideally; a compiler of lists à la Nick Hornby, definitely; and a player of childish games, crucially. Next, casually describe the rules and mention some of the doosies you’ve already come up with. Finally, stand back and watch as the target withdraws from social interaction, reduced to a thousand-yard-staring shell of an individual. Our finest hour was the temporary ruination of our mate Dave, a fervent Manchester United supporter and a man who wrote advertising creative ideas for a living. After a full hour and a half during which Tony and I had to make our own conversation as Dave muttered insanely under his breath and supped Guinness at the end of the bar, the whole pub was startled into silence by Dave’s triumphant exclamation of “Have I Told You Hately That I Love You!!” The relief was palpable.
The game really caught on. Hitherto unknown colleagues would whisper coded messages to us in the corridor like Le Carré spies or slip scraps of paper into our hands with suggestions. IT wanted to know why the newly installed email system kept crashing under the weight of messages with subject boxes like Love Is In McClair and Emotional Petrescu. And we appeared to have gone mainstream as Chris Evans started playing suspiciously similar games on his radio show, such as foodstuffs in film titles (The Texas Chainsaw Moussaka, anyone?). Tony was particularly exasperated, convinced as he was that Evans had also nicked the idea for Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush from him in the late ‘80s.
So it was with more than a tinge of nostalgia that I resurrected the game for this year’s World Cup. With the help of a carefully selected panel of experts, the list was compiled. Ladies and gents, I give you…
Navas What I Call Music…The Soundtrack To South Africa 2010
Return To Senderos
Rockin’ Robben
Smeltz Like Teen Spirit
Skip To Malouda
Anelka In The UK
Don’t Go Breakin’ Joe Hart
Agger Do
Shabalala Ding Dong
I Like Driving In My Kaka
The Juander Of You
Eye Of The Schweinsteiger
Honda The Moon Of Love
A Message To You Rooney
Don’t Stand So Klose To Me
A Boy Named Lee Jung-Soo
I Can’t Help Forlan In Love With You
Knockin On Heaven’s Altidore
Blame It On The Bougherra
Hi Ho Silva Lining
I Will Always Govou
All The Young Dudas
Diamonds Are For Evra
Falling In Love Higuain
Probably A Ribery
Rabbit Rabbit Yak Yak Rabbit
The First Time Ever Osorio Face
Landon Calling
Dindane Gooly Gooly Gooly Gooly Wash Wash
Villa The World Villa The Children
Puyol Live In A Yellow Submarine
Ramos Beautiful Girl In The World
Too Much Chu-Young
Ayew The Rocksteady Crew
‘Ello John, Got Inamoto?
It’s The Endo The World
Kjaer She Goes
Bornstein To Be Wild
Juarez The Love
Veron-Ron-Ron-Ron
Kanu Feel It?
Totally Addicted To Basinas
Mary Had A Little Lahm
Running Up That Cahill
Vidic O Killed The Radio Star
Njitap A Ya Face
Santa Cruz Sorry Now
Kum-Il Feel The Noise
De Jong Ones
The Jean Gignac
He Ain’t Heavy, He’s Zambrotta
It’s Raining Mendes
You Were Alves On My Mind
Concrete Hyung-Il
Night Boateng To Cairo
Hamsik Of You
Villar So Vain (I Bet You Think Bassong Is About You)
Kewell Never Walk Alone
Oh Maicon I Can’t Believe It
Belters, every one. They can’t possibly be beaten…
In no time, we had a good couple of albums’ worth. Stand-out tracks included Di Canio Feel It?, Le Saux-ing The Seeds Of Love, Hazy Shade Of Winterburn, Owen Me Owen You and the sublime Do Ginola Way To San José? Tony kept a notebook of all entries that passed muster, and the list was updated regularly.
The rules, as they evolved, were straightforward. Both song title and player had to be immediately recognisable. Songs and players could only be used once on the list, which led to some tough editing choices – would we plump for Ndlovu Is A Battlefield, The Greatest Ndlovu Of All or All You Need’s Ndlovu? (We went for the last-named, but not before a heated committee meeting.) Where the player name was the same as a word in the song, this would render it inadmissible. For example, Old King Cole would not do, whereas London Cole-ing would, assuming it fulfilled the final and most important criterion: that it made us both chuckle.
Inveigling others into the game held its own perverse pleasure. First, select your target: a football fan, certainly; a music lover, ideally; a compiler of lists à la Nick Hornby, definitely; and a player of childish games, crucially. Next, casually describe the rules and mention some of the doosies you’ve already come up with. Finally, stand back and watch as the target withdraws from social interaction, reduced to a thousand-yard-staring shell of an individual. Our finest hour was the temporary ruination of our mate Dave, a fervent Manchester United supporter and a man who wrote advertising creative ideas for a living. After a full hour and a half during which Tony and I had to make our own conversation as Dave muttered insanely under his breath and supped Guinness at the end of the bar, the whole pub was startled into silence by Dave’s triumphant exclamation of “Have I Told You Hately That I Love You!!” The relief was palpable.
The game really caught on. Hitherto unknown colleagues would whisper coded messages to us in the corridor like Le Carré spies or slip scraps of paper into our hands with suggestions. IT wanted to know why the newly installed email system kept crashing under the weight of messages with subject boxes like Love Is In McClair and Emotional Petrescu. And we appeared to have gone mainstream as Chris Evans started playing suspiciously similar games on his radio show, such as foodstuffs in film titles (The Texas Chainsaw Moussaka, anyone?). Tony was particularly exasperated, convinced as he was that Evans had also nicked the idea for Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush from him in the late ‘80s.
So it was with more than a tinge of nostalgia that I resurrected the game for this year’s World Cup. With the help of a carefully selected panel of experts, the list was compiled. Ladies and gents, I give you…
Navas What I Call Music…The Soundtrack To South Africa 2010
Return To Senderos
Rockin’ Robben
Smeltz Like Teen Spirit
Skip To Malouda
Anelka In The UK
Don’t Go Breakin’ Joe Hart
Agger Do
Shabalala Ding Dong
I Like Driving In My Kaka
The Juander Of You
Eye Of The Schweinsteiger
Honda The Moon Of Love
A Message To You Rooney
Don’t Stand So Klose To Me
A Boy Named Lee Jung-Soo
I Can’t Help Forlan In Love With You
Knockin On Heaven’s Altidore
Blame It On The Bougherra
Hi Ho Silva Lining
I Will Always Govou
All The Young Dudas
Diamonds Are For Evra
Falling In Love Higuain
Probably A Ribery
Rabbit Rabbit Yak Yak Rabbit
The First Time Ever Osorio Face
Landon Calling
Dindane Gooly Gooly Gooly Gooly Wash Wash
Villa The World Villa The Children
Puyol Live In A Yellow Submarine
Ramos Beautiful Girl In The World
Too Much Chu-Young
Ayew The Rocksteady Crew
‘Ello John, Got Inamoto?
It’s The Endo The World
Kjaer She Goes
Bornstein To Be Wild
Juarez The Love
Veron-Ron-Ron-Ron
Kanu Feel It?
Totally Addicted To Basinas
Mary Had A Little Lahm
Running Up That Cahill
Vidic O Killed The Radio Star
Njitap A Ya Face
Santa Cruz Sorry Now
Kum-Il Feel The Noise
De Jong Ones
The Jean Gignac
He Ain’t Heavy, He’s Zambrotta
It’s Raining Mendes
You Were Alves On My Mind
Concrete Hyung-Il
Night Boateng To Cairo
Hamsik Of You
Villar So Vain (I Bet You Think Bassong Is About You)
Kewell Never Walk Alone
Oh Maicon I Can’t Believe It
Belters, every one. They can’t possibly be beaten…
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