Deadline Day Drama & Goodbye Gary

Deadline Day

Deciding to write a blog post a week was a bit of a brave challenge, my previous postings over the years were rather more sporadic, but related to something that genuinely happened or was about to, whereas so far, I've had to think a little bit more about my content. "If I can't think of anything", I thought as I started, "I could always talk about football". Except this week, football was all I could talk about!

Last Monday was "Deadline Day", the over-hyped Sky powered non-event which normally passes without so much as a whimper, reporters spend their day camping outside top flight stadiums and/or training grounds feeding back nonsense rumours like “I can state, that David Beckham WILL NOT be re-signing for Manchester United, I repeat he WILL NOT. Although I'm hearing Ian Holloway, the Blackpool manager IS interested”. Whilst we at home, we all know it's a load of rubbish but sit engrossed as the mocu-non-drama unfolds on screen. Except last Monday, the footballing world finally went mad.

It started off with Chelsea wanting to take Liverpool's star striker Fernando Torres to Stamford Bridge. The American owners said “fine, but it will cost you £50 million”, Roman Abramovich, the Russian oligarch, who isn't short of a few pence signed a cheque and everything was left down to “El Nino” to decide upon how many roubles he wanted per week for his trouble.

Liverpool meanwhile, who had already been working frantically to secure the services of £23 million Luis Suarez, the precocious Uruguay international from Ajax were left with a large number 9 sized hole in their front line and needed a replacement. Step forward Mr Andy Carroll, the Newcastle talisman, who was the seventh highest goalscorer in the Championship last season, but took to the Premier League this year like a duck to water, scoring 11 times and making his England debut in November against France.

Newcastle finally accepted a mind blowing £35 million for Carroll's services and left themselves with nowhere near enough time to sign a replacement, so for now at least, they have a large amount of money burning a hole in their pockets until the summer when the transfer window reopens, whereas Liverpool, have their man, albeit at a highly inflated price.

What normally then is a day of rumour and hyperbole, last Monday for once, was a genuine event. I followed via Twitter watching sports journalists from around the UK getting themselves in a 140 character tizz as the social networks went into overdrive. BBC “Transfer clock watch” and Sky Sports News Ticker tape spewed forth information, reaction and opinion.

But now that the dust is settled, what's my view? Well as a Liverpool fan, losing Torres was a massive blow, any team in the world that lost their best player would be a blow. But Torres hasn't been himself for a long while and maybe it was for the best all round. If someone is going to offer £50 million for his services, then why not? Football is a funny, but sometimes cruel old game. It could go either way, he could lead them to the promised land of a European Cup trophy or just as equally make his debut today, get injured and never play again, like Pierluigi Casiraghi. It happens.

As for Carroll, well there has been much debate about the size of the transfer fee. £35 million, which is more than David Villa. Yes it is ridiculously high for a player of Carroll's ability and experience, but to try and put it into some kind of context, it was the last day of the transfer window where clubs will pay a premium, plus he was a Geordie playing for his hometown club, where to entice him away from his own kind adds another premium on top. Plus Liverpool and Kenny Dalgleish are investing for the next five to ten years. £35 million could seem a bargain if he has a career the club management and fans hope for him to have.

But football madness and transfer fees aside, I am actually pretty gutted. Sitting in the sun last September whilst in Ibiza for my stag weekend, watching the world go by, this guy who I thought looked like Andy Carroll walked by as we sat in a bar. I was sat upon on a ledge that was decorated with adverts for that night's party. He paused to feel one, arm outstretched just in front of my face, which I thought was quite strange considering the intimacy of it. Rather than saying “Hi, are you Andy Carroll” and wishing him well, I let him go on his way and turned around to the boys instead and asked them “Wasn't that Andy Carroll?” If I'd known that he would go on to play for England and sign for Liverpool I would have wished him all the best and brought him a pint or three!

If wishing, Andy Carroll and all the other players who began new careers in the past month all the luck and success, spare a thought for Gary Neville who announced that he would be hanging up his boots with immediate effect.

He was one of those players who started their careers at a time when I first started to become interested in football, making his debut way back in 1992. He is probably one of the highest profile players to have gone on to fulfil his career, or at least the most decorated in that time, leaving me think “My God, how old am I?”.

Yes he did play for Manchester United and yes he was an outspoken gobshite, but he epitomised everything that you would want to see from one of your own clubs players. Dedication, passion and a fight for the cause. If there was one man other than Alex Ferguson who would stick up for the interests and well being of Manchester United it would be Gary Neville, which endeared him further to the Manchester United supporters, and a figure of hate to everyone else.

Capped 85 time by England, he was England's highest capped right back, a record which anyone would be proud of. He played in THAT game against Germany in Munich, which automatically places any of those eleven players into the higher echelons of footballing godliness, as well as five major tournaments, including the oh-so-nearly European Championships in 1996.

But looking back on his career, if someone was to have brought him on transfer deadline day back in 1992, a fee based upon what they hoped he would do, rather than what he had done, how much would he have been worth?

Football is a funny old game, as a Gillingham supporter it's hard to relate to these multi-million pound expenditures, in fact, even on a human level it's hard to relate. Give me £50 million and I will show you what I could do with potential, I could fulfil a million dreams, not those of an elite few. Score goals, I could achieve goals way beyond those from six yards or 35 yard screamers. But then, nor could just I, any of us could.

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