downincognito

whispers work wonders

Sept. 30 London Chelsea 1 (DD) Aston Villa 1

As far as bogey teams are concerned, the Villans have been quite an awfully painful thorn on the Blue flesh. Luke Moore made a tidy 10K last season for being the first guy to breach our impressive defence after six teams failed to outfox it. In the away fixture, he piled on the misery by scoring the goal that derailed our title trip a lil bit.

And that was a Villa side coached by Everyuth David O’Leary, who was trying his best to send the boys back to the Cuckoo Cola championship or whatever they call it down there.

Enter football’s version of the horse whisperer, the enigmatically animated Martin O’Neill (who’s next, John O’Shea!?!) and Villa was busy embarking on an unbeaten run that must have had many Gunners already busy biting their nails and thumbs.

Oh, for sure O’Neill and the boys came looking for a win at the Bridge. A forwardline comprising Moore, Angel and that guy whose name sounds like Adebayor was enough proof of Villa’s intent.

The guys and gals who switched on the telly a tad too late must have missed the opening goal. After that Midas crash course, whatever Drogba touches has been turning into goals. Inside three minutes, he was at it again after Robben curled in the mother of all deliveries. Learn from him, Lampsy.

Villa was rattled and how. The Blues played as if their lives depended on it and raided the Villa half in waves at an explosive pace. In fact, my heartbeat went up by a dozen notches throughout the match.

The hugely unsung Geremi was impressive as ever and it’s quite a travesty that the gaffer hides him in the fridge for so often. For all his time inside, there was never a rusty touch evident in his play. It’s about time Mourinho made him the regular right-back.

At the other flank, Tweedy’s hubby was anonymous as usual. Oh Bridgey, my heart bleeds for ye!

For all the tsunami imitation, the only casualty was Moore, who was stretchered off after a nasty knock. However, Villa had another hero waiting in the wings. Just before halftime, he duly headed in the equaliser after some sloppy defending. Ok, now we all know your name, Agbonlahor.

It was a similar story after the break, the only difference being that Sheva was increasingly looking desperate. The constant criticism seems to have cooked his brains and he drew himself deep into midfield and tried to orchestrate play. He even had a superb shot on goal, which was palmed away by the inspired Sorensen.

The irritated gaffer threw Kalou and SWP into the mix. Off went Geremi and Robben, who stormed into the tunnel with a furious face. Logically, A. Cole and Lamps could have made better sacrifices. Sigh.

SWP zigged here, zagged there and could have easily scored the second. Instead of passing, he decided to test the strength of the crossbar. In no time, he had another chance to make amends. He had all of the goal and Sorensen to aim at but made a hash of it by passing. For good measure, he mishit the pass in style. The nightmare continues.

Chances galore, godspeed pace, well-threaded passes, the game was blessed with everything but a second goal. The Villans could have well even nicked it, but for Maka’s comedy interception. That sure looked like a red to me.

And the whispers go on.

posted by downincognito @ 1:36 PM