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jean paul

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About jean paul

  • Birthday 21/08/1980

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  1. I like to think of myself as rather different from the crowd, while happy enough not to stand out but simply blend in the crowd. I can be an individualist like a long-distance runner can be, not bothered or even better enjoying the loneliness of a long-distance run. The heart beat soars, different tunes enter your head through your ears, different scenery present itself before your naked eyes, and sweaty brow. Still, I believe in the power of unity. I believe in protests for a start, and I’ve taken part in them over the years. You might tell me it’s a waste of time, and it’s time to grow up out of your student idealism that used to consist of some Karl Marx literature, and the portrait of Che Guevara through one of the Rage Against The Machine black shirts. This might all sound contradictory, but if there is anything that I value in life it’s consistency. Now, the great Oscar Wilde, told us that consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative. I can never argue against such a great, but maybe while consistency can be boring, familiarity is something I crave for, and a stable family can be the most comfortable of refuge. And I think that’s why myself and Liverpool Football Club seem to have blended up so much, even though lately we had a bust-up, only for me to return back. Liverpool Football Club exists to win trophies. For a start, seeing a red shirt with the Liverbird upon his chest lifting a trophy gives immense happiness. Just typing it now, I have smiled. But, I think Liverpool Football Club exists for more reasons than just winning trophies. A medal might be the ultimate target for any athlete, but equally the sight of the finishing line of a long-distance run can give someone else even bigger feelings. And then, the journey itself contains different types of pleasures to different people. Like a season does. Liverpool Football Club and the city it represents is full of contradictions, or is it contrasts? We believe in unity. The Kop is a unifying force that makes the eleven redmen on the pitch feel they’re aided by the twelfth man. The twelfth man though is full of different characters, and individuality is celebrated. On your Kop seat, you’ll never find a standard red flag, with the Liverbird crest provided by the club itself. Chelsea does it. Manchester City put scarves on their seats. In the Kop, things are done differently. Hundreds of different banners are dotted around by individuals. We love the club, but we do not like to toe the official line. The club has got to be political correct. Our fandom is anything but that. ‘If you think this is hell, then try the Grafton on a Friday night’. The club would have never done that. A few red travellers did it without batting an eye lid and made so many laugh. ‘Roman’s taxes pay my giro’. ‘The distance between insanity and genius is measured by success’. Simple, yet thoroughly unique. But then again, we know when we have to unite and use one voice. Five minutes before kick-off, the voice of Gerry Marsden pours through the speakers and then it is drowned by most voices in the Kop and the three other stands of Anfield. The ritual is ingrained in every match-goer. The ritual is practiced by millions around the world before every kick-off around the four corners of the world. While some want to remind everyone of their glories, we remind each other that we have to brave storms, darkness is a fact of life, have to walk through the wind and rain and under clouds, but the sweet silver song of the lark can put all this into perspective and make it all worth-while. Again, we will find enormous happiness in the simple pleasures of life. We sometimes do fight amongst each other. The Kopites feel they’re famous. The Anny Roaders think fame is for the soft. Scousers bait the wools. The wools want to hide their posh postcode while at the same time brag about the distance covered to watch the redmen in flesh. But then again, when the ethos of Liverpool Football Club were being mucked about, the Spirit of Shankly Union arose. The first football union. This time, the certain show and force of unity, that made the national headlines. Two unscrupulous businessmen have mistaken a cause to a commodity. A cause to live. A cause that rather than an owner wants a father. A cause that rather than tangibility looks for feelings. I have to admit that when the tenure of Hicks and Gillett was clawing its dirty nails into the flesh of the Liverbird, I was giving up. I could not bear that sight any more, but maybe more than that I felt a sense of guilt that I was continuing to support what is bleeding dry the same Liverbird, and sacrileging what Bill Shankly founded and so far has stood the test of time. Today, I still admittedly wince at certain adjectives used, at times by myself to describe performances by players. From the single heroic and gutsy to the phrase-like breaking his neck and dying for the cause. The game has changed as much as the morals of a once revolutionary turned into a despot. But like I left for some time, I am now back, maybe differently from the past but remembering that Liverpool Football Club is like no anything else I’ve got or acquired in life. Admittedly some for better, and some for worse. But is part of what I am, with my contrasts and thirst for the familiarity and its safety. I don’t approve of the way the game has evolved, a game that Liverpool F.C. fully participate in, but there is one constant in it all, and that is the Liverbird crest. The crest that still has the power to transport me in somewhere irrational and feel that the world is alright. A sense of difference from the others. A sense of humbleness coupled with pride. A celebration of juxtaposition of individuality and unity. All under a red flag.
  2. We are closing the first decade of the century, and thus it is as natural as Ian Rush poaching on a loose ball in the six yard box to look back, reminisce and evaluate. Football, particularly that English, and specifically the Premiership carried on what was started in the nineties. I think it was during the nineties where English football was revolutionized, with the emergence of Sky. It was during the nineties where football on television and thus adjusted times for kick-offs became the order of the day. It was during the nineties where truly big money signings and unheard of weekly salaries for the players made their start. It is apt that this decade is now referred as the noughties, as basically it was a decade where noughts and more noughts have been added to both transfer dealings and weekly contracts, to the point of either ridiculousness, obscenity or both. In such a scenario, millionaires who know and feel the game as much as Mancs know the words and how it feels to sing ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ in the Kop made their entrance and bought clubs. Some needed new publicity, others a new toy, most a quick buck. And with that, the soul of football clubs got torn away like a paper does when it gets soaked, with its ink like true fans feeling all over the place. Damning, sad and grievous. Like the aforementioned, the Champions League went from strength to strength and became very exclusive. Loosing its membership card, even for a year made you a social pariah. It made rich clubs richer and widened the gap between the haves and the have-nots. The top four places in the Premiership for a start became repetitive. Clubs outside this group were finding it close to impossible to bridge the gap. The financial muscle Champions League football gives simply knocks out the others in a few rounds. In the world of Liverpool Football Club, qualification for Champions League football became the new mantra. Acquiring the fourth place became more important than winning the FA Cup or the League Cup. Liverpool started the decade without ever tasting Champions League football, but since the 2001-02 season, Liverpool missed out only once. More than that it provided the greatest moment in this decade and may I also add the club’s whole history as from three down, they drew the Italians AC Milan in six minutes and went on to win the nicest, the shiniest of cups and being the fifth triumph acquired the right to keep the cup for good. It was an irrational night that explains the madness and magic that still nobody can take away from football. And when there’s something madly romantic, bet your mortgage that Liverpool will be there. The decade was started with a lack of European football, as in a transitional season where a managerial partnership was tried and failed, European football was the least of the Kop’s worries. In his full second season in charge, though the Frenchman more than atoned for it, as he led his boys to a UEFA Cup victory in Dortmund against the Spanish side Alaves with a 5-4 victory. It feels so far away, and in a way a cup reserved for underachievers but believe me do, that night felt really good and we did dance with joy as for the first time in seventeen years, Liverpool won a European trophy and made it a treble winning season when four days earlier the FA Cup was won, after back in February the then Worthington Cup was secured. Most of the times, European football proved to be an alienation from the domestic front. Liverpool properly challenged for the league title just twice in a whole decade. Admittedly, qualification for Champions League football proved to be a get-out clause for both Houllier and Benitez when assessing their domestic duties. Shankly claimed the league was the bread and butter and at times league matches tasted exactly like that as sometimes whole runs were devoid of creativity and games were just scraped through. Even though for most of the times, Liverpool made part of the exclusive Champions League club, the finances invested in the squad were always modest and opposition managers were at times splashing out three times as much on defenders as Liverpool were doing on their strikers. It was a decade where the concept of having a big squad became paramount, and the word rotation made its way into the football jargon. The bench became as important to any side as it is to a workman. The five substitutes were also increased to seven, something which gave another edge for those with bigger squads over the others. While looking back at all this, I felt the urge to put on my XI for Liverpool during this decade, and I emerged with this side: Pepe Reina, Markus Babbel, Jamie Carragher, Sami Hyypiä, Fabio Aurelio, Yossi Benayoun, Dietmar Hamann, Xabi Alonso, Dirk Kuyt, Steven Gerrard and Fernando Torres. Liverpool used mainly four goalkeepers during this decade. They started with Sander Westerveld, then there was the strange double signing of Jerzy Dudek and Chris Kirkland on the same day and presently the Spaniard. I probably think that most would choose the Polish over Reina for his antics during Istanbul alone. I had to wrestle with that but ultimately I think Reina has been the most consistent of all. And in that position, that’s what you’re looking for above everything. Reina won the Golden Glove award for three seasons running as he kept the most clean sheets in the Premiership in those seasons. He has also a very impressive ratio on penalties and he looks to be growing bigger and bigger. At times this season, he looked to be the guy his team-mates look up to. Something he definitely has over Jerzy is his leadership qualities. On the right back I had to almost plunder down memory lane, but I am sure Markus Babbel is deserving of the place. He arrived in Liverpool on a free transfer due to the Bosman ruling. He was solid, he was elegant and he could raid forward and like the legendary Phil Neal he found the net on a European final. He was one of Houllier’s main assets during the treble winning season. Tragically, he was diagnosed by the Guillain-Barrè syndrome and for some time rather than his playing days his living days became numbered. The centre-back pairing I believe has chosen itself. Hyypiä is definitely Houllier’s best signing. Carragher deserves his place even for his commitment alone. The Finn has been a bargain buy and if Shankly thought Ron Yeats is seven foot tall, Houllier must have thought he got himself an ice such was the coolness and elegance of his buy. Hyypia gave ten years of service to Liverpool and Carragher has over 500 caps to his name. Carra complemented the Finn’s coolness perfectly with his no-nonsense and in-your-face last ditch tackles. I slotted the Brazilian Aurelio into the left-back position, and this has been a very difficult decision, honestly not because I was spoilt for choice but to the contrary because it was a position that proved very problematic and nobody really made it his. I think the last left-back that really has shone in Liverpool’s colours is Steve Nicol. Still, I think Aurelio is very under-rated, he can be solid and has got a left peg on him that can open a can. He is one of the better crossers and can deliver very penetrative balls. He has been let down with injuries but when in the side his presence makes it the better for it. In the middle of the park, I would pair Hamann and Alonso together. For someone who does the dirty work, Hamann’s class was unbelievable. He had the knack of covering every single ball, could tackle without sliding and for a defensive midfielder he was really comfortable with the ball and could strike one too, as his tally of eleven goals shows. A player who you mostly appreciate when he’s missing, as the first forty-five minutes of Istanbul reminds us. My over-riding memory of Didi though is the dying minutes of a match where the reds have got a slender advantage. He’ll get the ball, walk with it rather than run, cover it with his long legs and ultimately winning a foul. Why Xabi Alonso, when he left when we got so close to the pinnacle. Yes it hurts, but I am not going to debate the issue here. But I admit I never saw a better passer of the ball than him. As for his vision, while some can see, he could watch, where some could hear, he could not only listen but also understand. Plus two goals from his own half. Not the stuff of the ordinary, that’s for sure. On either wings I went for the current Benayoun and Kuyt. These alongside the left-back position were the ones that I had to really think hard about. Some might argue Kuyt is there only as a square peg in a round hole. And yes, for a wide position I opted for Kuyt for his hard work rather than his flair. But forget a bit about his late form, and remember his tireless matches, particularly in Europe. And he’s never shy in front of goal either since a striker is always a striker. The Israeli, on the other hand is thin. Got sparrow legs. But they can surely play. They are skillful. They can open defences. They can score. So, the two main men of the side. The question about Gerrard was where I’d place him. And I’d just put him slight behind Nando’s shoulders for the simple reason that the telepathic understanding he carries with the same Spaniard should be a compulsory study for psychology students. The captain, 500 and counting caps to his name. We are blessed to have him in our side. As for Torres? While his goal scoring record speaks for itself, the defenders facing him get tongue-tied. This, I believe is a formidable eleven. This will be a side which will be very hard to beat. It has a very strong core, but can be a bit narrow. The Academy never nurtured a true out-and-out winger, and the reality is high quality wingers will be most of the time above Liverpool’s budget. This is a stark reality of this decade for Liverpool. Four of these eleven cost the club nothing. Babbel and Aurelio arrived through a free transfer. Carra and Gerrard were products of the Academy. The noughties could never be talked in the same breath of the eighties and to a lesser extent of the seventies. But when you think what the nineties offered, particularly the Spice Boys era, this is a side that is honest and brave that will fit properly with the Liverpool way.
  3. Aquilani, twenty million pound signing. So far, conspicuous by his absence. Former boss stated he is made of Swarovski crystal. He’s that precious, or is he so breakable. He hasn’t properly started yet to say but am going to wait. I am used to it. Bragging rights. First goal might have been deflected. The Argentinean though still ran madly the length of the pitch and for a moment he must have forgot about Barcelona. And then the Dutch workhorse added another. The underclass of Merseyside were put in their place and bragging rights in the city for 2009 were secured. Close, how closer can you get? 86 points, 77 goals, just 2 defeats. It’s excruciating thinking about it. Debt I buy. I own. I put the cost on you. I riddle the club with my debt. The debt becomes yours. The American/capitalist way of buying a club. It worked with Kellogg’s. Liverpool Football Club might be slightly different. We wait with trepidation. Easy, the way, Torres makes it all look. Four goals scored at Old Trafford. Against one. And still he claims they were the better side. Well, as one respected Manc editor once said, ‘Comment is free, but facts are sacred’. It was sweet. It was brilliant. It hurt them like hi-gene on their warts. Glandular, See for letter ‘d’. It is choking the club, it is worse than glandular fever. Hurt, a 20th anniversary of the worst day in the story of this club. A reminder of 20 years of hurt. Ignominious, Hick’s and Gillette’s tenure. Jig of delight by Mr Michael Owen in front of the Kop that never happened. And 2009 is so much better for it. Kaleidoscopical, Liverpool’s form at the latter part of the year. Lumbering, Carra’s form at times. And I hate admitting it. Mental, the celebrations accompanying the leaving it very late goals. Chelsea, Portsmouth, Fulham. Nada, at the end of the day, that’s what we’ve all got to show for this year. Out of the group stages. I never thought it. Rafa used to breeze through it. This time he was just blown out. Pounding, Gerrard’s heart while waiting for his verdict at Liverpool’s Crown Court. Quirky, after getting so close, how quirky was the decline? Rightful, the backing to Rafa by the Kop. Shankly, 50 years since his arrival and we still think and revere him. There’s no need of a quote, it tells you what you need to know. Thin, Benayoun’s shape. Benayoun’s legs. They can play though. Union, The ‘Spirit of Shankly’ grew in stature. New enemies, new attacks, anew solidarity. Venerable, the 20th service at Anfield commemorating the 96. Wretched, the state of transfer funds Rafa has worked with in 2009. Xabi, Departed for 30 million. Rumoured to have fallen out with Rafa. Lower taxes in his homeland might have something to do with it too. Maybe. Yearning for number 19 continued through the year as always. Zimmer of hope. Every time I saw Gerrard on the pitch through the year. 500 games and counting, need I say more?
  4. Don't want to jump on Kenny's bandwagon, but here's my thoughts on Rafa:
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