Chelsea's Narrow Escape v the Canaries--Not Much from Torres, Too Little Caution from Lambert

When I wrote this about Fernando Torres’ industrious performance against Stoke City, I carved out the possibility that his form on that day could be a kind of dead cat bounce for a terminally declining player.  His play in the following two matches (v West Bromwich Albion and Norwich City) suggests that might be the case.  Distressingly, it seems Torres might be turtling back into the shell he occupied for large stretches of last season.  As the chalkboards below indicate, Torres’ passes received have dramatically fallen off since he had 51 against Stoke on the opening weekend.  And while he had 9 take-ons against Stoke and 10 versus WBA, he had a measly 2 (both lost) last BPL weekend.  And it’s not just the stats that tell the story here, as anyone who’s watched Torres play for Chelsea will attest.  Particularly, there was a moment in the 21^st minute of the Norwich City match, when, having been played in by a nice slide-rule pass from Florent Malouda, Torres decided to cut back at the edge of the box and try to find Drogba with a pass rather than try to beat Ritche De Laet for pace.  Though he nearly created a chance, this, for me, was a telling moment.  Where, exactly, is the player who used to smoke Nemanja Vidic (never mind perennial United loanee De Laet) and score goals for fun against the Red Devils?  Or how about the guy  whose blazing speed helped him score the winner in the final of the 2008 European Championships?  Sadly, I think the answer is becoming clear.  That player, like those £50M, may be gone forever.

Paul Lambert was apparently pretty frosted at what he deemed to be the excessive exuberance displayed by some Chelsea staff after Ramirez won a penalty that ultimately lead to Frank Lampard’s match-winning goal.  Really, the nerve of these continentals and their emotions.  A look at how Norwich was positioned after equalizing, though, suggests Lambert should mostly be angry with himself.  As the Chalkboard below indicates, Norwich maintained a high and narrow defensive line in the period after Holt evened the score.  This unbalanced 1-8-1 seems like a particularly odd tactic for a recently promoted club who was well-positioned to leave Stamford Bridge with a point.  What is more, it allowed Chelsea to attack from the wings and beat them on the counterattack, which they did in the build-up to Ramirez’s penalty-winning run into the box.  Rather than play for the point, Lambert seemed to want to kick-on and win the match.  It’s admirable when smaller clubs don’t park the bus, but sometimes discretion is the better part of, well, you know.  Lambert got greedy and got burned.

Michael Carrick--Good . . . But Not Good Enough for United's European Ambitions

As chuffed as Manchester United supporters must have been to watch their club rally from two goals back to pip Manchester City 3-2 in the Community Shield, Sunday's performance still left at least one important question unanswered. How will United overhaul the likes of Barcelona and Real Madrid in Europe with Michael Carrick in the center of the pitch. Now, to be fair to Carrick, he's a quality player who endures a hellacious amount of stick from the chattering classes on the Internet and in the Twittersphere. Just because some of this criticism is unfair, though, doesn't mean all of it is undeserved. After all, it was Carrick who gifted possession to Yaya Toure before he rifled home the winner in the FA Cup semifinal. And it was Carrick who looked simply overmatched during the Champions League final, attempting a meager 38 passes and connecting on only about 83 percent of them before being mercifully substituted in the 76th minute. On Sunday, it was Carrick's long, diagonal pass that Nigel de Jong intercepted to start the build-up to City's second goal. The fault for that goal should not pinned exclusively on Carrick, but one cannot envision Paul Scholes conceding possession so cheaply under similar circumstances. At least towards the end of his United career, the intensely private Scholes jealously guarded the ball as if it were imprinted with his ATM PIN; Carrick, if he's to inherit Scholes mantle as United's deep-lying pass master, must do the same. Carrick's apologists often note that he has an impressive collection of Iberian admirers, as both Barca's Xavi Hernandez and Real's Xabi Alonso, have lavished the midfielder with praise. What Spain's X-Men have politely omitted from their respective paeans is that Carrick wouldn't crack the starting XI at either Barca or Real. Carrick is not world class, and, with him in the center of the park, neither is United.  

Copa America Time Machine

The Copa America wrapped up this weekend with a historic Uruguay victory. In some ways, though, it never really kicked off. Argentina and Brazil, the glamour sides and heavy favorites, sputtered to early exits. Lionel Messi failed to score for his country (again). And Paraguay managed to make the finals without actually winning a match (they drew all their group games and advanced on penalty kicks). Still, in spite of this, I enjoyed the tournament. The reason I kept tuning in to Univision's coverage, though, had little to do with the product on the pitch. No, my attraction to this year's Copa America was purely nostalgic. Just watching a match made me feel like I was 14-years-old again.

During the summer of 1990, my best friend/neighbor and I were looking forward to our freshman year of high school in southern Connecticut. We were also desperately looking for something to do. One day, after catching a Showcase Showdown on The Price is Right, we turned on Univision's coverage of the 1990 World Cup in Italy. Soon after, we were hooked.  Thanks to Sports Illustrated, we knew a couple of household names, but our ignorance didn't seem to matter. It was just so intoxicatingly different--the raucous atmosphere, the exotic, mononymous names and the language and style of the presentation. Not only did it give us the shock of the new, but also provided the thrill of the forbidden. Two kids who had yet to take a Spanish class had no business watching Univision, but it put us ahead of the curve. We felt like the only people that summer running around yelling "GOOOOOOL!!!!!"  Four years later, everyone and their brother would be aping Andres Cantor's famous call. In many ways, it was our introduction to the world: an epiphany that there were fascinating, foreign cultures about which we knew very little.  I'm not sure if I'll ever experience a feeling quite like that again.

We're no longer neighbors, but a little over two decades later, my friend was texting me throughout the Copa. Sure, he said, it's on YouTube, but he's watching Univision. I think I know why.

The Torres Experiment is Failing at Chelsea

Regardless of what happens during Chelsea's remaining Premier League fixtures, the first chapter of Roman Abramovich's Fernando Torres Experiment has to go down as an epic failure. As someone who had been scrounging for the positives in Torres play with the Blues (such as his passing ability, his header v Manchester United in the first leg of the Champions League tie and his good work with Yossi Benayoun v Wigan), his wholly anonymous and inert display in the second leg v United on Monday finally deep-sixed to my fading optimism. For most disinterested observers, only one conclusion can be drawn from the first half of Tuesday's capitulation--Fernando Torres is not the same talismanic presence he was for Liverpool and Spain from 2007-2009. In fact, he looks a completely different and vastly inferior player.
A couple of chalkboards (courtesy of the fantastic Total Football iPhone app) underscore just how ineffectual El Niño was on Monday.

Though Torres was playing in his preferred position as a solo striker, it can reasonably be argued that Torres' dearth of passes received during his 45-minute shift was down to poor service and Chelsea's overall lack of creativity in the center of the park.  However, it's notable that Drogba dropped into deeper, more central positions to get on the end of almost twice as many passes. Most importantly, his deft chest control at the end of Essien's assist (in yellow) is exactly the kind of skill and composure in front of goal that Torres has failed to demonstrate. One gets the feeling that if Torres was in the exact same position, he would have miscontrolled the pass or fluffed the shot. He doesn't just seem out-of-form; he seems like the victim of a alien abduction. Gone is pacy, explosive and ruthless striker who once terrorized the likes of Nemanja Vidić. In that player's place, is a sluggish, tentative simulacrum.

The chalkboard on the left speaks to the Torre's crisis of confidence. His one attempt to actually run at an opponent was a tame, unsuccessful effort in his own half. He just never looked like troubling United's back four, while Drogba was far more aggressive with the ball at his feet.
An Uncertain Future
The danger of any transfer for or free agent acquisition of a struggling superstar in any sport is that the acquiring team is actually paying for the player whom they remember rather than the player who currently exists. Abramovich, envision as the oligarch from the DirecTV commercials who I now reflexively envision as the oligarch from the DirecTV commercials, clearly paid for a player who he fondly remembered skinning Premier League defenders to the tune of 56 goals from 2007-10, rather than the guy who looked indifferent and aimless at times for Liverpool this season. It's possible that Torres could recover his world class form, but it's possible that he might not. If he doesn't, Chelsea will need a manager with a personality big enough to finally abort the Torres Experiment.