The Season is on the Line

My lower grade club team, the Salmon, had their last hit out before the season yesterday- a meandering 5 nil loss to a very handy Marist side 4 divisions above us.

...13 orange shirts a-swaying in the breeze....

There is nothing like playing football in a World Cup year.
Thankfully the Southern hemisphere winter coincides with the quadrennial June Soccernalia. As our club football calender reaches its climax the prematch talk won't be so much about whether Island Bay shipped three goals against Stop Out, nor who the golden boot over at Miramar Rangers will be, rather all the sideline natter will be about the ins and outs of Group F, the latest great African hope, the bizarre refereeing decisions and even more bizarre goal celebrations. For two months every four years us plodders and hackers can dare to dream... Ah it makes you feel part of a global mockery all over again. Last World Cup a shiftworking team mate decided to video (remember video!) all the games and watch them at a more convenient time - convenient for him perhaps, he made us promise schtum for the good part of a month, banned from mentioning Ballack and Lahm, verbotten from discussing Zidane and Materazzi, we finally gave up, making him a social pariah, left out of our World Cup bubble.

It will be great to have our own team to support for a change, but through decades of habit I'll still be rooting for pitiful England. As for the All Whites a realistic goal will be a point from pool play and perhaps some stand out moments like having Italy on the ropes for the first half, before the Azurri bring on Pirlo et al to settle the score, or a Fallon header which deceives the Paraguayan Goalkeeper, and the bookies, if only for a second. Bereft of real world-class talent and lacking experience the All Whites will have to work hard and rely on a strong team culture to make an impact. Unlike 1982 when many of the New Zealanders reported being star struck I believe the 2010 All Whites know that despite the odds they are not merely there to make up the numbers, but to compete across all parts of the paddock, from Paston to Smeltz.

For NZ Football the Season really is on the line; despite a bumper year of successes the nation's arm chair critics will make their minds up based on Herbert's Jabulani jaunt this coming Northern Summer. Herbert has a point to prove, and surely a point will prove it.

It's a Yellow Out

Wellington Phoenix host the Newcastle Jets in what amounts to an A-League Quarter-final on Sunday 7 March.

The Yellow Fever have called upon the city, nay the very country, to show its true colours and go yellow for the game. With less than 5,000 tix left to sell the Nix final home game of the season will be a scorcher.

Unfortunately as per my previous post I'll be knee deep in artiness, taking Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea out to the curious theatre at Southward Car Museum in Paekakariki. Paekakariki means valley of the green parrot- Ill make time in my schedule to ask Land Information NZ to temporarily change the name to Paekowhai- the valley of yellow!

I'm hoping that since this company is British they'll be partial to a bit of football, and may tolerate me tuning to Radio Sport in the Greenroom, and perchance the quiet bits of the show will be punctuated by my cries of joy when Greenacre slots home the winner.

I have had nary a chance to ruminate upon matters football for the past week, missing opportunites to post about the Phoenix beating Perth, Ryan Nelsen's dodgy knee, the All Whites strip being blacked out and all manner of other sundry odd spots.

But yesterday I saw some awesome athleticism, namely the man and his digger at Waitangi Park, and the Monks from Sutra perform a monkey dance on a steel pole. This was after I had performed two Haka Powhiri- one at dawn to welcome the Festival artists and a special Haka Powhiri on stage at the St James Theatre to welcome the cast of Sutra. The Monks were very gracious and said through their translator "your dance [the haka] is like a Kung Fu to us."

Here is the proof:
Before yesterday I had only ever performed one Haka before- as a weedy teenager on Niue Island before our 7th form Geography Class Rugby team got pounded into the ground by the Niue High School 1st XV. (On the Niue national News that night it was the lead story, and we were called the Rotorua Boys High 1st XV!)

A Haka is an intense experience- drawing up all manner of mana and wairua from the Earth below, and entwining host and guest in an ancient, energetic bond. And then you want to smash them.

IF it was done right, and that is a BIG if, i wouldn't mind seeing the All Whites take a leaf out of the All Blacks book and summon the warrior chief Te Rauparaha before taking on the Italians!

On second thoughts maybe not, have some monkey pole dancing & general easts meets west craziness courtesy of Sutra instead:

The Longest Derby II- This time it's 'Perth'onal

Groan... Ok, so I end my post drought with a pithy poor pun, but the heady, desperate days before a knockout play off game do strange things to a Football Tragic's brainwaves.

Since the last time they played Perth the Phoenix have picked themselves up, dusted themselves off and marched towards the A-League playoffs, finishing fourth in the ten team league. The fact that they finished fourth is a matter of some pride, not just scraping into a generous play-off quota, but firmly entrenched in the midst of the top six.

A few weeks ago they picked up a record crowd of 19,258 at 'home' in Christchurch. An event which would go along way towards a Cantabrian claim for an A-League spot. However unlikely this may seem you'd have to think that Canterbury would make a good fist of it. Their sporting teams have an unparalled knack of performing when it counts; Their Rugby and Cricket teams in particular have set the standard for domestic success in Aotearoa, and the Englishness of Christchurch lends itself to the leisurely pursuit of all colonial sports, not least of all Football. It would be fantastic if the Nix could cast off the phony war against Perth, and play a real derby against our traditional Southern rivals. The Cantabrian fans would also be loathe to share their team with the rest of the country. Even though Wellington is proudly parochial, and the Phoenix are Harbour City heroes through and through the Yellow Fever are made up of football fans from all over the Country, and are happy to share their team.

Despite the improbable fancy of two NZ teams in the A-League it is in fact Melbourne who will become the first A-League team to get a proper City Derby,when the Melbourne Heart starts beating next season. And why not? To the Melbourne Victory the Phoenix record home crowd of 19,000,is a paltry figure, and still below their season average of 21,105.

So the challenge of restoring NZL's transtasman football dignity remains the sole burden of the Phoenix, for now at least. This weekend Wellington city is fair fizzing at the prospect of sudden death finals footie- this is coupled with a delicious Perth V. Wellington doubleheader at the Stadium. (The Western Force Rugby team take on the Wgtn Hurricanes tonight. How many Perthites are taking in both games I wonder?)

It seems as though the Phoenix home attendance record is set be nixed again as fans flock to the city. My old football coach from Rotorua rung me up saying he is in town for the game and wants to catch up. If this random occurance is anything to go by I'd say a 25,000-30,000 home crowd could be on the cards, as fairweather fans, or those yet to be tempted by the Nix, throw their misgivings to the wind, and join New Zealand's team in the A-League.

So the season comes to ahead tomorrow for the Nix, if Dadi is fit to play I hope he isn't assigned Penalty duties. But if Paul Ifill comes to play with the vision and calmness he has found in recent weeks, and if Manny Muscat keeps his Maltese crosses flying into Tim Brown's educated melon at the far post then the 'Longest Derby' promises to be less one sided this time around.

I think that the Nix will beat Perth tomorrow; Fortress Wellington has been tough to seige this season, but I don't think the Nix have got the goods to trump Melbourne or Sydney if they meet them in the final But as they say in Rugby League, you have to lose a final to win a final, so the Nix first ever taste of playoff footie will be invaluable in their quest for A-League glory.

On a personal note I am about to disappear into the black hole known as the NZ International Arts Festival from this Friday 26 Feb until March 21. I have been working on this Festival as the Education Coordinator, and soon the fruits of my labour will fall from the tree.

I may not return from this journey quite as sane of mind nor as fleet of foot as before. Wish me luck, for the arts can be a dangerous place to play:

How Bizarre

The creator of New Zealand's greatest contribution to UK terrace chant culture has died.Pauly Fuemana died in Auckland this morning after a short illness.

As lead singer of the Otara Millionaires Club (OMC) Fuemana had an unexpected global hit with the catchy hip hop song How Bizarre.

The song peaked at no. 4 on the UK singles charts and, more bizarrely, was used as a terrace chant at certain football grounds, usually whenever something out of the ordinary happened, football bloopers as it were.

I remember hearing it as a steward for Bristol City at Ashton Gate- it brought a wee tear to my eye and made me stroke my pounamu in pride.

It is somewhat ironic that football fans picked up on this song since Pauly Fuemana was from the Rugby and League stronghold of South Auckland. Being part Maori and Niuean, I'd wager that he would've had little time for the supposed sissyness of Soccer. I might be wrong; He may now be spurning the chance to punt the ole pig skin over those pearly posts with George Nepia, preferring instead to play pick up Football with the Busby Babes and George Best, while the shades of Hillsborough fill that heavenly pitch with the wonder of his one great hit.

Come to think of it, one of the main characters of the song is named Pele, after all....

This post may be only vaguely football related, but nonetheless Pauly, The Football Tragics salute you:

Phoenix Lose the Longest Derby

Wellington Phoenix went down 2-0 to Perth, in what may euphemistically be called 'the Longest Derby'.

In a league dominated by teams from Australia's Eastern Seaboard, Wellington and Perth are the geographically distant outsiders. It somehow seems right to think of Wellington v. Perth as a derby of a different kind. It is their very uncommonness that they have in common, like the disparite dogmas of Glasgow Rangers and Celtic, which unites the fierce rivals in an uncomfortable bond.

The Wellington to Perth road trip must be one of the longest in domestic football, and makes a sweet mockery out of the cosy bonhomie of, say, the Maltese or Andorran football leagues. Perhaps only Russia has a domestic football match that requires a 10,000+ Kilometre round trip. (Happy to be corrected in the comments section below.)

Eugene Dadi had a baffling, meandering, sort of homecoming. Fouled from the first minute, he was goaded into picking up a soft early yellow and was lucky not to see red mere minutes later. It seemed like he was hell bent on reacquainting his studs with the shins of every one of his ex-team mates. The strategy failed, the Perth Glory's covert fouling was much more effective in disrupting Dadi's flow and getting under his skin; Paul Ifill also copped a bit of attention, repeatedly being spilled over by the Glory game plan of harassment and niggle. It was not a pretty game, but Perth's two first half goals were at least quality finishes, even if the Nix defence was generous in its absentia.

In the second half Dadi's horror show return to the Indian Oceanside reached its nadir with a pathetic 73rd minute penalty, limply rolled to the keeper, after a clownish run up.

In what was a forgettable night for the Nix; feeble up front and phantoms at the back, perhaps the thing I'd most like to blot from the record is the terrible 'Come Play' commemorative jerseys.

The sentiment, at least, was fantastic. This was the 'Come Play' Round, where each team wore a special jersey to promote Australia's World Cup bid, and each player's top will be auctioned off for charity afterwards. Although the Phoenix are a NZ based team the potential spin off for NZ football from Australia hosting the World Cup could be huge.

But the shirts themselves were a throw back to the eighties- hypercolour tied dyed messes with cutesy little Kangaroos on them. Gok Wan should stick to shopping malls for his makeovers, and leave the football shirts alone.

Ironically the 'Come Play' round, which was meant to draw attention to the A-League as a supporting factor in Australia's World Cup Bid, was defined by ill discipline and confrontation. Plenty of bookings, poor tackles and silly fouls. North Queensland's All White Jeremy Brockie had his ankle snapped in a rash challenge by Brisbane Roar's Michael Zullo, so much for transtasman goodwill and cooperation in the name of the World Cup. Brockie's dream of appearing in a World Cup is probably as busted as his leg, while Zullo blithely played on, hoping to be in contention. for the Socceroos' squad. Even 'God' wasn't in a charitable mood; North Queensland's Robbie Fowler sulked in the stands after being benched.

The Central Coast v. Gold Coast game, a true derby at least in geographical terms if not history, was typical of the round. It was feisty, marred by fouls and dust ups, but still managed to be a snore fest.(I literally fell asleep watching it.) The casual observer might think that the invitation to come play was confused about what code it was referring to.

If this was meant to be the shop window for the beautiful game in Australia, then those tie-dyed t-shirts should be ripped into rags, and used to wipe the window clean.

Team Wellington's Coach in Dog Attack

This could have been a lot worse. A lot worse.

Team Wellington Coach Stu Jacobs, one helluva nice guy, sustained serious injuries after trying to break up a dog on dog attack at a college based youth football clinic.

Given the fact that his own five and four year old daughters were nearby, it was probably more of an instinctive, rather than rational, response. Whatever the motivation it says a lot about his make up that he bothered to intervene, and a medal for bravery, (with a bar for stupidity?) should be in the post. He even had the presence of mind to get his TW top in the photo- a true professional!

Good luck with the recovery Stu, and may Team Wellington channel some of that mongrel attitude when they take on Auckland FC tomorrow.

You may have to put up with ACFC fans giving you good natured grief with chants like 'Who let the dogs out" and "How much is that doggy in the window" though!

Haiti United

The absolute tragedy in Haiti compels the world to act. The football world has been no different in its humanitarian reaction. If you haven't already donated here is a win-win way to support the cause.

100% of proceeds from the sale of this shirt will be donated to the relief fund. Imagine how stylish, and globally responsible, your pub team would look all decked out in this little number.

Given the disparity in the GDP of Haiti and your average top flight football club, perhaps millionaire owners like Chelsea's Roman Abramovich could give up lunch for a day, or perhaps donate a thousand pounds for each goal his 'play-things' score-that'd be a cool 7,000 pounds for the cause after last weekend's trouncing of the hapless Black Cats.

Check out the wine bill from one of his recent luncheons:


C'mon Abramovich, this roman excess would make Caligula blush, how about tempering it with a bit of charity?

Here is more about the disaster from the point of view of US Striker Jozy Altidore, who is of Haitian descent: