Thoughts from the weekend

Another weekend has gone by and another round of Premier League games have takenplace which have left much to talk about. Firstly the Chelsea game was downright boring and didn’t really showcase the festival of attacking football which Avram Grant has been talking about and since his arrival they haven’t really been playing much differently to when Mourinho was there. The manager’s been trying to sell this supposed free flowing style but its hard to implement when the players are exactly the same. This Chelsea side is still the exact same physical, defensively sound and annoying side everyone used to hate under Mourinho. I’m also still wondering when Didier Drogba will cease to display the incredible form he has shown over the last 18 months as I still think he is just an average player having a great run. Yes here it comes, a cliche, ‘Form is temporary, Class is Permanent.’ Turning 30 next year i see age catching up to him very soon. I also have to say he is the worst handler of the media I have ever seen. ‘I am a diver,’ ‘I’m not a diver,’ ‘I’m the best player in the world,’ ‘I never wanted to come to Chelsea,’ ‘I love Chelsea,’ ‘I want to leave Chelsea!’

Arsenal showed that they can still play a delicious passing game without Cesc Fabregas as shown by their magnificent first half display against Aston Villa. However Villa provedin the second half that with commitment and tenacity you can get the better of the Gunners. Ashley Young in particular was excellent.

Fernando Torres is not only world class but also one of the most complete strikers in the world. He also makes Kuyt and Voronin look like complete wallies. However he just can’t seem to score away from Anfield which at this stage of the season is sort of justifiable considering he’s still in his ’settling in period.’ Though his away performances in general have been excellent  he just hasn’t found the back of the net. In fact his phenomenal adaptation to his new surroundings just shows that really great players do not need 24 months settling in time as Drogba needed. Shevchenko on the other hand has just been unlucky in the sense that he was passed his peak when he joined Chelsea and that he is never going to adapt considering his age which is now 31.

Sunderland beat Derby, good for them. And Reading drew with Middlesbrough and no one really cares though it was immensely funny when I heard that Boro made a £10 million bid for Ronaldinho which was just as ludicrous as Birmingham making an approach for Marcelo Lippi.

Catch a falling star at your peril, Chelsea

By Matt Dickinson, The Times Chief Sports Correspondent

As Kaká was confirmed as European Footballer of the Year at the weekend, Ronaldinho’s claim to fame was that he started a La Liga match on the bench for the first time since he joined Barcelona. If that were not insulting enough, the twice Fifa World Player of the Year was said by one Spanish newspaper to have been the subject of a bid by Middlesbrough. Enough to wipe off anybody’s goofy grin.

That football’s greatest showman is in a trough is not in doubt and even if he does not have to pack his bags for Teesside, the trajectory of his career should trouble anybody who loves the game. The fear is that even if we have not seen all that Ronaldinho has to offer, we have witnessed the best of him.

He still has the talent and, at 27, he should have the time to reclaim his perch, but does he have the desire to put himself back on top? It is a question that is just as pertinent at Stamford Bridge as the Nou Camp, given Chelsea’s desire to lure the Brazilian.

In August, Roman Abramovich not only met the player’s brother, who doubles as his agent, but also spoke to Barcelona about making an offer. The Chelsea owner was willing to shatter every transfer and salary record but was told to come back next year.

The assumption was that he would and perhaps Chelsea and other buying clubs, which may include AC Milan, will convince themselves that all Ronaldinho needs is a new challenge after a fifth season in Catalonia; that he is simply distracted.

The temptations for Chelsea are obvious at a time when the beautiful game continues to prove elusive, a point maddeningly reinforced by Arsenal’s brilliance across the capital.

Could Abramovich resist the biggest star in football, a match-winner who invented a move – the espaldinha – in which he can pass the ball with a spasm of the shoulder blades? For all of Avram Grant’s talk of entertainment, there has not been much of that at Stamford Bridge.

One glance at Andriy Shevchenko should provide a cautionary tale about the perils of buying big-name players in their late twenties and further research may also persuade Abramovich to go with his head rather than his heart.

Worries over Ronaldinho stretch back to last season, when he rested on the laurels of being Spanish and European champion. Denials that he had missed training sessions were undermined when he stripped off his shirt to reveal what is known by middle-aged men as a rubber ring.

Australians will never throw in the towel over Shane Warne’s status

By the Times Chief Sports Writer Simon Barnes

By the time you read this, Muttiah Muralitharan may well have broken the record for Test-match wickets, having joined Shane Warne on the almost ludicrous mark of 708 yesterday. Time, then, to brace yourself for a wave of resentment, most of it from Australia.

It makes a fascinating parallel with The Times’s series on the 75th anniversary of the Bodyline tour. Back then there was (and still is, in a fossilised kind of way) outrage that an Australian sporting hero should be revealed as nothing more than a man. The tactic of bodyline bowling exposed Don Bradman’s shortcomings and this was not acceptable. Therefore, the tactic must be wrong.

The record Murali has equalled is held by a player who, like Bradman, is one of the greatest cricketers that ever drew breath. But Murali is set to pass his record; therefore the record-equaller must be wrong.

Murali is Wisden’s 2007 Leading Cricketer in the World and I wrote a piece in the almanack to mark the fact. I said that Murali’s action had been passed and accepted and authorised, which means that you cannot quarrel with Murali, only with the laws of cricket. I also said that those who pick this quarrel must be prepared to argue about the angle between the longitudinal axis of the upper arm and forearm in the sagittal plane.

Inevitably, a couple of Australian columnists of the unreconstructed kind responded. Their argument was, roughly, I don’t care about all that, I just know that he chucks every ball and that makes “Warnie” the best. So much for logic.

The only rational view is that both are great cricketers and remarkable sportsmen. After that we can argue for as long as you like as to which is better. The argument that Murali is less good because he is compromised (mainly by Australian insularity) is simply not admissible.

It has been a joy watching him: a thrilling but chivalrous opponent, a symbol of unity in a sometimes troubled country, a professional who plays sport with the relish of more innocent times. Some people see international sport as a way in which local heroes seek to touch the infinite, while others see international sport as a measure of the length in feet of the national d**k.

Me, I’ve seen England lose to Murali and I’ve seen England lose to Warnie, and I’ve been blessed. (I’ve seen England win against both as well, so make that doubly blessed.)

To Jonny the glory; to Jason the tag of genius

Few athletes have given me greater pleasure than Jason Robinson. Loyal to my father’s roots, I often watched him when he played rugby league for Wigan and marvelled at the way that some men can run and be caught, while others run and no one can hold them. Therein lies the mystery of rugby.

It’s not just speed, not just little jinks and stutters, it’s not even the ability to see lines of running. Rather, it’s about a personal understanding of space. Robinson, who retired on Saturday after taking part in the Barbarians’ win over South Africa, had this gift to a greater extent than any rugby player I have seen, with the sole exception of David Campese.

Hailing the slog in the bog

By the BBC’s Derek ‘Robbo’ Robson

If the Beeb has done one thing to improve its sports coverage in the last few years it’s definitely been their visits to footballing outposts like Harrogate for Rounds 1 and 2 of the FA Cup.

While the trophy itself has become the property of the Big Four - in fact why not just give them one each and have done with it - the tournament still grips me like it did when I were a kiddy.

Just seeing them balls drop out of that sack - bad image but hear me out - and rattle around while dimly remembered stars of yesteryear fumble around for the big numbers like spotty lads in a lass’s bra, well it still has me on the edge of my seat.

I know the whole point of Cup draws is that they are random but there must be a higher power at work sometimes cos you guarantee a few things:

One, Chelsea always get a cushy home draw against some poverty-stricken triers who might even grab an early lead at the Bridge before Lampard starts filling his boots. (Frank is what cricketers would call a flat-track bully).

Two, Man U - and I’m not saying it doesn’t make me hold me sides with glee - Man U always get a tricky draw. Ha’way, Villa, man!

Third, Boro always get the classic third round disaster in waiting. Bristol City away means we’ll be Lawro’s top tip for a giant-killing - although giant is putting it a bit strong. Still we’re fresh from an away point at Reading. ‘COULD THAT BE THE GOAL THAT SAVES GARETH SOUTHGATE!?’ yelled the radio commentator.
Well, no - it’s a draw at bloomin Reading! No disrespect intended but it’s not like Southgate’s just walked across water whilst turning it into wine.

Four, how the blooming hell do Germany get these woofty draws in major tournaments?! Poland, Austria and Croatia? It’s like Asafa Powell gettting on the starting blocks alongside well, any three British sprinters. Bilic reckoned it was a toughie but the bloke’s tongue’s never left his cheek since he went into management.