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Watford (H) Premier League - 14/12/19

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Let’s get after them like a pack of wild dogs.

 

 

 

https://www.google.co.uk/amp/s/www.vice.com/amp/en_uk/article/jm9bdy/nigel-pearson-whats-wrong-mate-820

 

What's Nigel Pearson's problem? It's a question most of us have probably asked ourselves more than once this season. Maybe you read about how, in December, the Leicester City manager was filmed telling an abusive fan to "fuck off and die" and thought, 'Shit, that's a bit much. What's Nigel Pearson's problem?' Perhaps you saw that, in February, he pinned Crystal Palace's James McArthur to the ground by his throat and so you turned to a friend and said, "Jesus Christ, what's Nigel Pearson's problem?" There is a very good chance you heard how, during a recent press conference, he accused a journalist of being an "ostrich" before storming out. Or how he called another reporter a "prick". Or how he managed to initiate a war of words with Gary Lineker. Who actually thinks it's a good idea to pick a fight with Gary Lineker? I'll tell you who: Nigel Pearson. So again... what's his fucking problem?

 

But there are only so many times you can ask this question before it ceases to be rhetorical and instead becomes something you genuinely want to get to the bottom of. As he continues to fight tooth and nail to keep his club in the Premier League, the 51-year-old has become a one-man study in pressure, paranoia and a weird type of aggression that manages to be both passive and active at the same time. I'd say he was a compelling figure, but that's not exactly true. I actually find him very difficult to watch, and I don't think I'm the only one. You'd think his behaviour might make him seem in some way "colourful" or elevate him to the status of cult hero in that gonzo, Ian Holloway, Soccer AM sort of way. English football will always find room in its heart for a "character", but part of the deal is that, in return, you at least offer occasional moments of levity and a sense that, deep down, you know it's a funny old game. But Pearson presents none of this. He is a walking LOL vacuum. He is a banter black hole. One of the most telling things about him is that, despite the wealth of material to work with, he has not spawned a single halfway decent Twitter parody. There is just nothing funny about him. Even his otherwise hilarious £6 Mr Topper haircut seems to glower at you and say: "Just keep walking." And it's Nigel Pearson, so you do.

 

Anyway, before we continue, what do we know? Pearson spent his playing days as an archetypal knucklehead centre-half, most notably for Sheffield Wednesday and Middlesbrough, before entering coaching, finding work as henchman for a series of absolutely-zero-fucking-nonsense English managers in Gary Megson, Bryan Robson, Stuart Pearce and Sam Allardyce. It's not exactly a background that screams "Louche football sophisticate!" but then by the standards of some of these peers, Pearson is practically cerebral. He reads the Guardian. He enjoys doing crosswords. Rather than golfing jollies to Spain, he books himself on solitary walking holidays to the Carpathian mountains. It was during one such trip to Romania that he was, famously, attacked by a pack of wild dogs and had to fight them off by backing himself into a corner and blinding them, one by one, with his walking poles. Short of Colin Cooper driving a stake through the heart of an actual vampire, it's hard to imagine a more Gothic tableau involving a former Boro defender. "I can take care of myself, don't you worry," he announced after the McArthur incident. "I got a bit scared to be honest," was McArthur's own take. There's part of you that suspects Pearson was secretly delighted to be attacked by a pack of wild dogs. There's part of you that suspects he went on holiday with that express intention. 
 

Is he a decent manager? His track record stacks up quite nicely. But read between the lines and his career in the dugout points to a man who has learnt that football is an unsentimental business. In his first full-time role, he managed to keep Carlisle in the football league. In his second, he kept Southampton in the Championship, only to then be binned-off in favour of former Dutch international Jan Poortvliet, a man who promptly helped get Saints relegated the following season. His first stint at Leicester – in which he oversaw promotion from League One followed by a playoff finish in the Championship – ended when the club's chairman was so blatantly angling to replace him with former Portugal international Paulo Sousa that Pearson just thought, 'Fuck this' and went off to manage Hull. And if he seems a little chippy and defensive in his demeanour today – and duh, course he does – you have to wonder if this has anything to do with being consistently reminded that ex-knucklehead centre-halves called Nigel will always have to step aside for continental ex-internationals, regardless of how shit they turn out to be.

 

Anyway, he ended up back at Leicester when a new board took over, eventually got them back into the Premier League and despite being in the bottom three for most of the season has recently led them on a run of form that has got them up to 16th and won him the Manager of the Month award for April. Which is a brilliant achievement. Only, it's now got to the stage where Pearson could win the Champion's League and focus groups would still immediately shout "Scary flat-top weirdo!" if presented with a photo of him. An extended version of this point was made to him recently during an eye-gougingly excruciating seven-minute back-and-forth with the BBC's Pat Murphy, an exchange charged with so much slow-burning contempt that both men would be up for Olivier Awards if they'd done it on stage at the Donmar Warehouse.

 

"I have terrible moods. I can be quite intense. People have said that I'm rude, that I can blank people," he has said. "But I just haven't seen them because I'm concentrating. I'm actually a very sensitive bloke really." 
 

Obviously we can all relate to that familiar sensation of temporarily losing our sense of sight because we're concentrating so much. But actually, that stuff about being sensitive I can buy. I think he does care what people – particularly the media – think, which is one reason why he spends so much time saying that he doesn't care what people think. In 2012, he went after Sky Sports pundit Peter Beagrie for simply suggesting on air that a referee was right to have given a penalty against his team. "He is an overpaid punter," said Pearson. "He is clueless." I mean... who fucking cares what some co-commentator said about some penalty decision? And who then singles them out for abuse? I'll tell you who: Nigel Pearson. The whole weird "ostrich" press conference thing is too complicated to fully explain here, suffice to say it included this rant at a junior reporter who accidentally pissed him off: "Your head must be in the sand. Is your head in the sand? Are you flexible enough to get your head in the sand? My suspicion would be no. I can, you can't." 

 

Just so we're clear, Pearson seems to be showing off about being physically capable of putting his head some sand if he had to. In terms of brags, it's up there with Chris Finch from The Office claiming he can throw a shoe over a building.

 

Actually, the Finchy comparison isn't a bad one. If any Premier League manager is going to tell you they read a book a week or use the phrase "university of life, mate", you know it would be Pearson.

 

And yet, he cannot be all bad. For one thing, his players generally seem to really like him. In fact, part of the reason he gets into so many arguments with people is that he seems to be incredibly defensive of his charges. "The Nigel Pearson you see and the Nigel Pearson we see are two very different people," is how Leicester goalie Kasper Schmeichel puts it. "He's a bright, bubbly guy." 
 

"He knows what he's doing," said Lineker after the pair had patched-up their differences. "Yes, he's a little bit weird at times. A little bit odd." 

 

In an earlier column, I suggested that Pearson was like a policeman who had married your mum and then transformed your bedroom into his Tae Bo workout zone. And, on reflection, yeah, I'm still pretty happy with that. But as an addendum, I would suggest that it's possible that, over time, the two of you could perhaps learn to accept one another. Not be mates or anything, but just reach a cautious understanding. Maybe you'll start to appreciate why he is the way he is, and maybe he'll stop making so many creepy boasts about his physical flexibility. And who knows? Perhaps one day you'll stop being so frightened of him. Perhaps one day you can go on holiday together and beat the fuck out of some wild dogs.

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Oh, and in case anyone is feeling any fondness towards these cunts, here is The Hornet’s Nest preview. Fuck them. Let’s keep them rooted to the bottom and smash that fucking goal difference. The stupid cunt doesn’t even know they’re playing at Anfield.

 

 

miked2006

miked2006Premiership Prediction League Proprietor

Liverpool

Ah, Liverpool. The gift that keeps on giving.

Or are they?

Sure, their city is an embarrassment. Putting up an art establishment or two around the council estates, bogs and tips which make up the majority of the city; luring unsuspecting tourists in so the locals can loot and plunder from their cars like hyenas on a buffalo corpse.

And sure, the city will continue to be the laughing stock of the UK for quite some time. With their infamous overbites and comedians nobody else can understand, let alone find funny, the place the UK left behind seems as far away from leafy Hertfordshire as its possible to be.

However, after years of spraying ‘this’ll be our year’ along with their usual moans and spittle, football is finally bringing a ray of sunshine to their dark, cold days and nights since the mines/ factories and unions shut their doors.

After years of sitting along in foreign hotel bars, stinking of BO and shouting at anyone who will listen how Liverpool are the best team in the ’hcchol worlghhh’ (sic) and are simply unlucky, they may finally win a deserved trophy for the first time in a generation.

The mastermind of their recent success is Jurgen Klopp, aka George Clogg, a Kermit the Frog-looking clownlike figure, who plays up to the camera like a petulant teenager in a classroom desperate for attention.

That’s not to take anything away from his effectiveness. His route one, Boothroyd-esque hoofball is remarkably effective.

Go long - chase, go long - chase.

Other teams simply cannot keep up with the 90 (+6) minute goals they consistently sneak in off the backside of a league one cloggers like Milner, Henderson or the Ox; the latter named for his massive turning circle and inability to say his own name.

Given Liverpool’s vast lead in the Premier League this season however, it looks like George will finally stop being the bridesmaid, and finally get to be the bride.

Danger men: Liverpool’s front three is dangerous at converting the loose hoofs, whilst Van “Sean” Dyche is an incredible defender, who would have won the ballon d’or if he played for a big club like Real Madrid, Barcelona or Man Utd.

Watford

So we’re on to our third manager of the season.

Bye bye, terrible Quique - the worst Watford manager we’ve ever had in the Premier League.

Welcome to Watford - Norty Nige.

Let’s forget that Pearson almost relegated a team that essentially won the league a year later.

Let’s forget that our new Vinny Jones-esque bruiser is probably getting to sleep by counting the number of Klopp’s giant, goofy buck teeth he’s wanting to knock out on Saturday.

We’ve finally got a manager who will try to put a bit of fight into a team lacking grit, resolve and resilience. So what if he’s a little, erm... unhinged?

We do need to start scoring goals, fast. We also need defensive solidity.

But for now, a bit of mental fight and a manager willing to (again not literally) fight for us is enough.

Good luck Nigel. If times get hard, don’t forget that at your very worst: when Milner fumbles in Liverpool’s sixth, when the Upper GT start booing because their bovril is cold, when Andre Gray misses his 7th one-on-one. Remember, that the pressures off.

Because whatever you do, you’ll never be as bad as Quique, nor the decision makers that brought him back a second time.

Just don’t sit back for a 0-0 draw against the worse teams in the league, and try not knock the extremely irritating Klopp out on the touchline, and you’ll do just fine.

Watford’s danger men: Lol

Match prediction: 

Watford 0-3 Liverpool

Milner 90+1 (VAR misses handball)
Milner 90+4 (penalty awarded by VAR after Henderson felt a slight breeze)
The Ox 90+6 (long ball causes chaos and Mr Ox taps the ball in from 1 yard)
 
 
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7 minutes ago, Anubis said:

Oh, and in case anyone is feeling any fondness towards these cunts, here is The Hornet’s Nest preview. Fuck them. Let’s keep them rooted to the bottom and smash that fucking goal difference. The stupid cunt doesn’t even know they’re playing at Anfield.

 

 

miked2006

miked2006Premiership Prediction League Proprietor

Liverpool

Ah, Liverpool. The gift that keeps on giving.

Or are they?

Sure, their city is an embarrassment. Putting up an art establishment or two around the council estates, bogs and tips which make up the majority of the city; luring unsuspecting tourists in so the locals can loot and plunder from their cars like hyenas on a buffalo corpse.

And sure, the city will continue to be the laughing stock of the UK for quite some time. With their infamous overbites and comedians nobody else can understand, let alone find funny, the place the UK left behind seems as far away from leafy Hertfordshire as its possible to be.

However, after years of spraying ‘this’ll be our year’ along with their usual moans and spittle, football is finally bringing a ray of sunshine to their dark, cold days and nights since the mines/ factories and unions shut their doors.

After years of sitting along in foreign hotel bars, stinking of BO and shouting at anyone who will listen how Liverpool are the best team in the ’hcchol worlghhh’ (sic) and are simply unlucky, they may finally win a deserved trophy for the first time in a generation.

The mastermind of their recent success is Jurgen Klopp, aka George Clogg, a Kermit the Frog-looking clownlike figure, who plays up to the camera like a petulant teenager in a classroom desperate for attention.

That’s not to take anything away from his effectiveness. His route one, Boothroyd-esque hoofball is remarkably effective.

Go long - chase, go long - chase.

Other teams simply cannot keep up with the 90 (+6) minute goals they consistently sneak in off the backside of a league one cloggers like Milner, Henderson or the Ox; the latter named for his massive turning circle and inability to say his own name.

Given Liverpool’s vast lead in the Premier League this season however, it looks like George will finally stop being the bridesmaid, and finally get to be the bride.

Danger men: Liverpool’s front three is dangerous at converting the loose hoofs, whilst Van “Sean” Dyche is an incredible defender, who would have won the ballon d’or if he played for a big club like Real Madrid, Barcelona or Man Utd.

Watford

So we’re on to our third manager of the season.

Bye bye, terrible Quique - the worst Watford manager we’ve ever had in the Premier League.

Welcome to Watford - Norty Nige.

Let’s forget that Pearson almost relegated a team that essentially won the league a year later.

Let’s forget that our new Vinny Jones-esque bruiser is probably getting to sleep by counting the number of Klopp’s giant, goofy buck teeth he’s wanting to knock out on Saturday.

We’ve finally got a manager who will try to put a bit of fight into a team lacking grit, resolve and resilience. So what if he’s a little, erm... unhinged?

We do need to start scoring goals, fast. We also need defensive solidity.

But for now, a bit of mental fight and a manager willing to (again not literally) fight for us is enough.

Good luck Nigel. If times get hard, don’t forget that at your very worst: when Milner fumbles in Liverpool’s sixth, when the Upper GT start booing because their bovril is cold, when Andre Gray misses his 7th one-on-one. Remember, that the pressures off.

Because whatever you do, you’ll never be as bad as Quique, nor the decision makers that brought him back a second time.

Just don’t sit back for a 0-0 draw against the worse teams in the league, and try not knock the extremely irritating Klopp out on the touchline, and you’ll do just fine.

Watford’s danger men: Lol

Match prediction: 

Watford 0-3 Liverpool

Milner 90+1 (VAR misses handball)
Milner 90+4 (penalty awarded by VAR after Henderson felt a slight breeze)
The Ox 90+6 (long ball causes chaos and Mr Ox taps the ball in from 1 yard)
 
 

Fucking state of that

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9 minutes ago, Anubis said:

Oh, and in case anyone is feeling any fondness towards these cunts, here is The Hornet’s Nest preview. Fuck them. Let’s keep them rooted to the bottom and smash that fucking goal difference. The stupid cunt doesn’t even know they’re playing at Anfield.

 

 

miked2006

miked2006Premiership Prediction League Proprietor

Liverpool

Ah, Liverpool. The gift that keeps on giving.

Or are they?

Sure, their city is an embarrassment. Putting up an art establishment or two around the council estates, bogs and tips which make up the majority of the city; luring unsuspecting tourists in so the locals can loot and plunder from their cars like hyenas on a buffalo corpse.

And sure, the city will continue to be the laughing stock of the UK for quite some time. With their infamous overbites and comedians nobody else can understand, let alone find funny, the place the UK left behind seems as far away from leafy Hertfordshire as its possible to be.

However, after years of spraying ‘this’ll be our year’ along with their usual moans and spittle, football is finally bringing a ray of sunshine to their dark, cold days and nights since the mines/ factories and unions shut their doors.

After years of sitting along in foreign hotel bars, stinking of BO and shouting at anyone who will listen how Liverpool are the best team in the ’hcchol worlghhh’ (sic) and are simply unlucky, they may finally win a deserved trophy for the first time in a generation.

The mastermind of their recent success is Jurgen Klopp, aka George Clogg, a Kermit the Frog-looking clownlike figure, who plays up to the camera like a petulant teenager in a classroom desperate for attention.

That’s not to take anything away from his effectiveness. His route one, Boothroyd-esque hoofball is remarkably effective.

Go long - chase, go long - chase.

Other teams simply cannot keep up with the 90 (+6) minute goals they consistently sneak in off the backside of a league one cloggers like Milner, Henderson or the Ox; the latter named for his massive turning circle and inability to say his own name.

Given Liverpool’s vast lead in the Premier League this season however, it looks like George will finally stop being the bridesmaid, and finally get to be the bride.

Danger men: Liverpool’s front three is dangerous at converting the loose hoofs, whilst Van “Sean” Dyche is an incredible defender, who would have won the ballon d’or if he played for a big club like Real Madrid, Barcelona or Man Utd.

Watford

So we’re on to our third manager of the season.

Bye bye, terrible Quique - the worst Watford manager we’ve ever had in the Premier League.

Welcome to Watford - Norty Nige.

Let’s forget that Pearson almost relegated a team that essentially won the league a year later.

Let’s forget that our new Vinny Jones-esque bruiser is probably getting to sleep by counting the number of Klopp’s giant, goofy buck teeth he’s wanting to knock out on Saturday.

We’ve finally got a manager who will try to put a bit of fight into a team lacking grit, resolve and resilience. So what if he’s a little, erm... unhinged?

We do need to start scoring goals, fast. We also need defensive solidity.

But for now, a bit of mental fight and a manager willing to (again not literally) fight for us is enough.

Good luck Nigel. If times get hard, don’t forget that at your very worst: when Milner fumbles in Liverpool’s sixth, when the Upper GT start booing because their bovril is cold, when Andre Gray misses his 7th one-on-one. Remember, that the pressures off.

Because whatever you do, you’ll never be as bad as Quique, nor the decision makers that brought him back a second time.

Just don’t sit back for a 0-0 draw against the worse teams in the league, and try not knock the extremely irritating Klopp out on the touchline, and you’ll do just fine.

Watford’s danger men: Lol

Match prediction: 

Watford 0-3 Liverpool

Milner 90+1 (VAR misses handball)
Milner 90+4 (penalty awarded by VAR after Henderson felt a slight breeze)
The Ox 90+6 (long ball causes chaos and Mr Ox taps the ball in from 1 yard)
 
 

A pathetic attempt to slag off Liverpool and an even worse attempt to be amusing 

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Given that human seems to have crushing learning difficulties, a void in the place of what could be called humour and a level of knowledge akin to a newt about human society perhaps we should congratulate him on the ability to type? It's something that must have required years of learned response to cattle prodding.

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I’ve been to Watford, unfortunately.

 

He/she has a severe case of Stockholm Syndrome if even one brick of Watford is worth a grain of Liverpool. 
 

Wow.

 

Its a shame their city’s people never had a chance to see England/Europe/Therestofthefuckingworld at any point.

 

Cunts

 

14-0

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32 minutes ago, magicrat said:

A pathetic attempt to slag off Liverpool and an even worse attempt to be amusing 

I only know one Watford fan. He's a decent bloke; but then, he's come from Watford and decided to live in Liverpool. 

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I had to do some work in Watford many a time and it's a dump. Shit pubs, shit lappers and even the hotel I stayed in had shit food. I did find a half decent restaurant that sold nice crispy duck. Anyhow, just batter these championship cunts. 

 

We're fuckin shite. 

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Ruthlessness. Outrageousness. Control. Know-how. Excellence. Timing. Movement. Accuracy. Nous.

 

I don't ask for much.

 

We routinely bummed the hell out of this lot under their last few managers. Keep the intensity and focus on this game, do all the right things, and we can do so again and go into the Christmas period on 49 points. Our game is before Leicester and Man City play their fixtures this weekend so it's another chance to stretch the lead and keep them playing catch-up. Take it.

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1 hour ago, Anubis said:

Oh, and in case anyone is feeling any fondness towards these cunts, here is The Hornet’s Nest preview. Fuck them. Let’s keep them rooted to the bottom and smash that fucking goal difference. The stupid cunt doesn’t even know they’re playing at Anfield.

 

 

miked2006

miked2006Premiership Prediction League Proprietor

Liverpool

Ah, Liverpool. The gift that keeps on giving.

Or are they?

Sure, their city is an embarrassment. Putting up an art establishment or two around the council estates, bogs and tips which make up the majority of the city; luring unsuspecting tourists in so the locals can loot and plunder from their cars like hyenas on a buffalo corpse.

And sure, the city will continue to be the laughing stock of the UK for quite some time. With their infamous overbites and comedians nobody else can understand, let alone find funny, the place the UK left behind seems as far away from leafy Hertfordshire as its possible to be.

However, after years of spraying ‘this’ll be our year’ along with their usual moans and spittle, football is finally bringing a ray of sunshine to their dark, cold days and nights since the mines/ factories and unions shut their doors.

After years of sitting along in foreign hotel bars, stinking of BO and shouting at anyone who will listen how Liverpool are the best team in the ’hcchol worlghhh’ (sic) and are simply unlucky, they may finally win a deserved trophy for the first time in a generation.

The mastermind of their recent success is Jurgen Klopp, aka George Clogg, a Kermit the Frog-looking clownlike figure, who plays up to the camera like a petulant teenager in a classroom desperate for attention.

That’s not to take anything away from his effectiveness. His route one, Boothroyd-esque hoofball is remarkably effective.

Go long - chase, go long - chase.

Other teams simply cannot keep up with the 90 (+6) minute goals they consistently sneak in off the backside of a league one cloggers like Milner, Henderson or the Ox; the latter named for his massive turning circle and inability to say his own name.

Given Liverpool’s vast lead in the Premier League this season however, it looks like George will finally stop being the bridesmaid, and finally get to be the bride.

Danger men: Liverpool’s front three is dangerous at converting the loose hoofs, whilst Van “Sean” Dyche is an incredible defender, who would have won the ballon d’or if he played for a big club like Real Madrid, Barcelona or Man Utd.

Watford

So we’re on to our third manager of the season.

Bye bye, terrible Quique - the worst Watford manager we’ve ever had in the Premier League.

Welcome to Watford - Norty Nige.

Let’s forget that Pearson almost relegated a team that essentially won the league a year later.

Let’s forget that our new Vinny Jones-esque bruiser is probably getting to sleep by counting the number of Klopp’s giant, goofy buck teeth he’s wanting to knock out on Saturday.

We’ve finally got a manager who will try to put a bit of fight into a team lacking grit, resolve and resilience. So what if he’s a little, erm... unhinged?

We do need to start scoring goals, fast. We also need defensive solidity.

But for now, a bit of mental fight and a manager willing to (again not literally) fight for us is enough.

Good luck Nigel. If times get hard, don’t forget that at your very worst: when Milner fumbles in Liverpool’s sixth, when the Upper GT start booing because their bovril is cold, when Andre Gray misses his 7th one-on-one. Remember, that the pressures off.

Because whatever you do, you’ll never be as bad as Quique, nor the decision makers that brought him back a second time.

Just don’t sit back for a 0-0 draw against the worse teams in the league, and try not knock the extremely irritating Klopp out on the touchline, and you’ll do just fine.

Watford’s danger men: Lol

Match prediction: 

Watford 0-3 Liverpool

Milner 90+1 (VAR misses handball)
Milner 90+4 (penalty awarded by VAR after Henderson felt a slight breeze)
The Ox 90+6 (long ball causes chaos and Mr Ox taps the ball in from 1 yard)
 
 

Fucksake, pathetic cunt.

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Watford another "not far from London" nomark town. One high street, a small shopping centre, shit pubs and two train  stations. Oh and Harry fucking Potter land. 

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