Let me reiterate: Steven Gerrard = Cheat


A few days ago, I called Steven Gerrard a cheat and Landon Donovan a bum.  Well, I was right on one account.  


Gerrard was at it again yesterday against the Arsenal when he fell over two phantom challenges late in the game, the second fall being absurd to the point of hilarity.  He looked like he was getting into a swimming pool.  


Well, it was funny until it worked, anyways.  Howard Webb gave the free-kick, which Gerrard subsequently took and blasted straight at Cesc Fabregas' raised arm.  I presume the Arsenal captain was only sneezing (Bias?  What bias?).  Rather than reflect on own his theatrics which led to the free kick, Gerrard fumed at Webb for not giving a penalty.  It was, by far, the most lively he had been all game.       

I remind you that it was only last year when he seemed at the top of his game: he had just inspired a demolition of Newcastle, he looked odds on for player of the season and Liverpool were on course for their first title in 19 years.  The rest—Rafa's rant, Liverpool's capitulation—is history, of course.  Their title hopes vanished last spring and it seems Steven Gerrard's scruples and fighting spirit followed them into the ether.  

Which brings up this hypothetical: 
Say you're Fabio Capello, manager of England and you've said all along that the team would be selected on merit and current form.  The World Cup is starting tomorrow (literally: Friday, February 11).  Would Steven Gerrard be on the pitch to start the game?

If you answered yes, did you have reason to yourself that "he's always good for a bit of magic" or "he's good on a dead ball"?  Yeah, that's pretty much what I thought about Thierry Henry Arsenal in 2007.  


But after the season both Henry and Fabregas have acknowledged that he was hurting the Arsenal more than he was helping them.  He sulked around the pitch, demanded the ball when he wasn't open, wasted set-pieces and, most glaringly, he started to dive.  He looked just like Steven Gerrard looked yesterday: a shadow of his dominant self.  Am I saying that he can't regain some semblance of form by June?  No.  But will he again be the player we thought he was this time last year.  I doubt it.
   
But thankfully for Gerrard, the World Cup is not tomorrow.   And thankfully for England, you are not their manager. 



Donovan strikes for Team America
After I called him lazy and ineffectual, Landon repeatedly pillaged the left side of Chelsea's defense yesterday.  After earning the and taking the corner that set up Louis Saha for Everton's opening goal, he then swung in an inch perfect diagonal ball to release the French striker, only for the French striker's first touch to let him down.  Only a minute later, Donovan was back at it, charging at Chelsea defender Ricardo Carvalho and drawing a clear penalty (Saha missed).   


Not only was Donovan aggressive in attack, he tracked back into defend and regularly hemmed Ashley Cole into his own half.  The only thing he didn't do was step up and take the penalty himself.  I wonder if David Moyes is now considering after seeing Saha miss his second of the season.  Other regular penalty takers—Mikael Arteta and Ayigbeni Yakubu—have spent the majority of their seasons on the bench. 

Speaking of Ashley Cole, Donovan didn't limit his damage on Chelsea to only that 90 minutes.  He inflicted a dent on Cole's ankle that might see him miss the rest of the season and possibly even the World Cup.  

Ironically, Ashley Cole's replacement in the England team is none other than cuckolded figure of perpetual sorrow, Wayne Bridge.  Are we living in a Hugh Grant movie?  Wayne Bridge: run of mill, low on confidence but high on charm English bloke with broken heart gets his chance at redemption along side the cunning Judas.  Step aside "Bend it Like Beckham."  There's a new soccer romantic comedy poised for moderate box office success and modest cultural relevance in America.  We'll call it "Bridge of Blues," and Colin Firth can play the antagonist John Terry role.  

In a day's work, Landon helped his club, helped his country, helped the Arsenal, helped me enjoy my Wednesday and helped spawn a box office hit.  Now that is efficiency.  If he could sleep with John Terry's wife, he will have achieved more in a week than any American has done in the entire history of soccer.  

Better get busy Landon, I hear she's in Dubai waiting for a knight and shining armor.