Who would be Gary Caldwell?
Anyone who visits Celtic Park on any sort a regular basis can't possibly have helped noticing a strange new chant that has been growing in use amongst large sections of the Celtic support over the last year or so. Like all truly great footballing bastardisations of the English language, the chant is beautiful in it's simplicity; a mere two words that, while almost Swiftian in form and expression, captures perfectly the passion and anguish of the average working class footballing fan as he/she struggles (wo)manfully through that 90 minute spiritual journey they have to endure on any given Saturday.
It's not often that The Paranoid Tim is so taken by the collective mutterings of football fans that he feels compelled to pen an article for posting on his puffed up and self-important (yet barely read) little corner of cyberspace, but in this case he'll make an exception. A chant such as this is surely worth bringing to the consciousness of those not yet fortunate enough to have encountered it during their own spiritual journey of following the hoops.
With this in mind, and in the hope that the chant can be spread to all corners of every stadium in the land, here's a little guide for how to successfully join in with the latest craze around Celtic Park.
1. Take your seat in the stadium. It's best to get there early in order to ensure you don't annoy everyone around you by turning up 5 minutes late, forcing half the people on your row to stand and let you past.
2. Use the time before kick off to prepare you for the following 90 minutes. This should involve slowly building up levels of irritation and exasperation. A good method of doing this is to go for a pie (expensive, greasy AND lukewarm), or by browsing Gordon Strachan's team selection and noting with disapproval that Derek Riordan still isn't getting a game. Doing this in the presence of another supporter on the same spiritual chanting quest as yourself will speed up the process of building levels of exasperation, as will watching the footage of previous Celtic games on the screens.
3. By kick off you should be tingling with annoyance. The hairs on the back of your neck should be up and trying to have a square go with a steward. If you can keep them under control, focus your energies on being irritated that the huddle isn't what it used to be in the good old days when players knew what it meant to wear the Hoops; when they knew what it meant to do the huddle (and when they knew what it meant to go seasons at a time winning hee-haw). Channel that annoyance into your rapidly building pool of irritability.
4. The start of the game is vital, and you must remain completely focused on the task at hand. Use the first few minutes wisely. Late arrivals who force the people in the seats in front of you to stand, blocking your view of another ball being launched up towards big Jan, can be used to increase the sourness of your mood. Particularly if they have a pie and coke. Mutter under your breath, but remain focused. Should Celtic score an early goal, join in the celebrations, but never lose sight of the fact that you had twenty quid on Brown to score the first goal and that wee bastard McDonald has done you out of a pile of cash.
5. And now for the chant. It can come at any time, so you have to be prepared to join in as and when it happens. Signs to look out for, which may herald an imminent eruption of the chant, include the following; Celtic losing a goal, or being behind at any stage in a match; The opposition keeping the ball from our bewildered midfield for more than 10 seconds; Celtic being unable to keep possession for 3 passes; Celtic not being ahead at any point after 10 minutes; the ball being passed towards our number 5. Should any of these conditions arise the chant can start
Furfuxsake Caldwell!
Listen to it ring round the stadium, and, should you feel brave enough, join in!
Okay, so we're being a little silly. But there is a serious point in amongst all that guff that you've just had to read through. Sure it's buried away deep inside endless lines of nonsense, but I'm sure if you look hard enough you can perhaps see the jist of an argument staring back at you with a rabid, frenzied glare last seen on Iain Ferguson's fizzog that time someone tried to explain Calculus to him.
But for those of you who skipped all that excess wordage, here is the point. There are an alarming number of Celtic fans who seem to want nothing better than to watch certain Celtic players fail while wearing the Hoops. There are an alarming number of 'supporters' who spend their 90 minutes on a Saturday watching and waiting for certain Celtic players to make a mistake that gives them a chance to jump all over the players back. And there are an alarming number of Celtic supporters who will do this week in, week out, regardless of how the player in question is actually playing.
Currently, Celtic have two whipping bhoys. Evander Sno is spared much of it because he barely plays. But he only has to appear from the dugout for the murmurs to start. Gary Caldwell, on the other hand, has to endure 90 minutes of moans and murmurs and furfuxsakeCaldwells every time he takes to the field.
Now the following opinion may be controversial to some of you. What I'm about to say may be some sort of footballing blasphemy along the lines of Dylan going electric, but I'll say it anyway. Gary Caldwell is not the worst player ever to pull on the Hoops. He isn't even the worst player in our current squad. Gary Caldwell is actually a decent, solid (if average) footballer.
There. I've said it. Deep breathe. Take a second to ponder that, all you Furfuxsake Caldwell! chanters. Allow the thought to permeate into your consciousness and let it gently simmer there while I explain why I think such blasphemous thoughts.
I'll take last nights match against Falkirk as an example. Caldwell had a good game. He wasn't spectacular, but then he never is. No one is suggesting that he's any kind of Cafu while playing at Right Back. But boy does he put in a good shift. For 90 minutes last night he worked the right hand side from box to box, always making himself available, never hiding from a pass, always willing to provide an outlet and offer support where needed. For 90 minutes he played good balls down the line for Scott McDonald to run on to, usually following up his own pass to provide support. And while others in the team are content to launch the high ball up the park whenever possible, Caldwell usually looked for feet, or for the run, or for the simple pass out of a tight situation. Defensively, he made one vital block that kept the scoreline at 1-0, and provided good cover throughout the 90 minutes.
Yet despite this, come the 75th minute he played a poor pass straight to a Falkirk player and it started. Furfuxsake Caldwell! 3-0 against a team down to 10 men, he's barely put a foot wrong all night, and still it happens.
Now I'm not saying for a minute that Gary Caldwell was man of the match. But he did have a good, solid game. And that's usually what you get from him. Rarely spectacular, but in the same light, rarely dreadful - yet more blasphemy, I'm sure. He's had his bad moments, true. People still talk about his performance in Lisbon last season when he did indeed have a very poor 90 minutes. But what is less mentioned is that up until that night Caldwell had been playing well. He had made a decent start to his Celtic career. After Lisbon he clearly lost a bit of confidence and struggled until he picked up the injury that kept him out for over 3 months. By the time he came back Celtic players were dreadful en masse.
More recently, he gave away a stupid unnecessary penalty that led to 2 dropped points at Tynecastle. It was a stupid, reckless challenge that didn't need to be made. Criticism merited. But again, it's conveniently forgotten that the Hearts game was sandwiched in between two vital European games against Shaktar and Milan, and, at the risk of being blasphemous once more, Caldwell acquitted himself very well in both of those games.
Against St Mirren at the weekend he didn't play particularly well, but then against St Mirren at the weekend who did play well? Are we to beat a guy with a stick for having a poor game when everyone else on the park was just as bad? The truly infuriating thing about the abuse Caldwell receives is that he's not only playing out of position, he also works his ass off for 90 minutes of any given game and never tries to hide no matter how bad he or the team may be playing.
Yet still he is greeted with a chorus of Furfuxsake Caldwell! whenever a pass goes astray, or he misses a tackle or he fails to skip past 4 players and rifle one into the top corner from 20 yards. Worse, listen as whoever has the ball turns and rolls it out to our makeshift Right Back and you'll usually hear a muttering of Whit yeh passen tae him fur!. He hasn't even got the ball yet and 'supporters' are having a go at him. Usually the ball is being passed to him because he's the only player who's bothered to put himself into a position receive the pass, but hey, I suppose it's easier to have a go at a player than consider that.
The irony of the Caldwell debate is that there are, amongst his critics, people who would play Bobo Balde ahead of him. For those of you too young to remember, Bobo is an internationally recognised bomb threat of a defender - so much so that the US military have drawn up contingency plans to abduct and secure him should there be any danger of him falling into the hands of Al-Qaeda.
Gary Caldwell is no right back. He's a short term stop-gap playing in a position he clearly isn't comfortable playing in. Hopefully we can solve that problem in the January transfer window, but until then we're stuck with the problem. We rightly moaned when Petrov was continually played on the right by MON. We still do it when Strachan plays Brown out wide. And in doing so we give those players the benefit of the doubt when they turn in a poor performance - because they aren't playing in their natural position. It's about time we give the same benefit of the doubt to Gary Caldwell. And it's about time we give him the credit he's due for sticking to the task despite all the criticism he has to endure each week.
I'll finish by leaving you some questions to ponder for homework. Who is more deserving of criticism? A player playing out of position, who puts in 100% effort and makes the most of his limited talent? The manager who continually plays the player out of position? Or a player with natural ability and talent who puts in 50% effort and who's contribution to the cause is way below what could be expected of him? It seems to The Paranoid Tim that there are people at Celtic Park more deserving of criticism than Gary Caldwell.
Read more!It's not often that The Paranoid Tim is so taken by the collective mutterings of football fans that he feels compelled to pen an article for posting on his puffed up and self-important (yet barely read) little corner of cyberspace, but in this case he'll make an exception. A chant such as this is surely worth bringing to the consciousness of those not yet fortunate enough to have encountered it during their own spiritual journey of following the hoops.
With this in mind, and in the hope that the chant can be spread to all corners of every stadium in the land, here's a little guide for how to successfully join in with the latest craze around Celtic Park.
1. Take your seat in the stadium. It's best to get there early in order to ensure you don't annoy everyone around you by turning up 5 minutes late, forcing half the people on your row to stand and let you past.
2. Use the time before kick off to prepare you for the following 90 minutes. This should involve slowly building up levels of irritation and exasperation. A good method of doing this is to go for a pie (expensive, greasy AND lukewarm), or by browsing Gordon Strachan's team selection and noting with disapproval that Derek Riordan still isn't getting a game. Doing this in the presence of another supporter on the same spiritual chanting quest as yourself will speed up the process of building levels of exasperation, as will watching the footage of previous Celtic games on the screens.
3. By kick off you should be tingling with annoyance. The hairs on the back of your neck should be up and trying to have a square go with a steward. If you can keep them under control, focus your energies on being irritated that the huddle isn't what it used to be in the good old days when players knew what it meant to wear the Hoops; when they knew what it meant to do the huddle (and when they knew what it meant to go seasons at a time winning hee-haw). Channel that annoyance into your rapidly building pool of irritability.
4. The start of the game is vital, and you must remain completely focused on the task at hand. Use the first few minutes wisely. Late arrivals who force the people in the seats in front of you to stand, blocking your view of another ball being launched up towards big Jan, can be used to increase the sourness of your mood. Particularly if they have a pie and coke. Mutter under your breath, but remain focused. Should Celtic score an early goal, join in the celebrations, but never lose sight of the fact that you had twenty quid on Brown to score the first goal and that wee bastard McDonald has done you out of a pile of cash.
5. And now for the chant. It can come at any time, so you have to be prepared to join in as and when it happens. Signs to look out for, which may herald an imminent eruption of the chant, include the following; Celtic losing a goal, or being behind at any stage in a match; The opposition keeping the ball from our bewildered midfield for more than 10 seconds; Celtic being unable to keep possession for 3 passes; Celtic not being ahead at any point after 10 minutes; the ball being passed towards our number 5. Should any of these conditions arise the chant can start
Furfuxsake Caldwell!
Listen to it ring round the stadium, and, should you feel brave enough, join in!
Okay, so we're being a little silly. But there is a serious point in amongst all that guff that you've just had to read through. Sure it's buried away deep inside endless lines of nonsense, but I'm sure if you look hard enough you can perhaps see the jist of an argument staring back at you with a rabid, frenzied glare last seen on Iain Ferguson's fizzog that time someone tried to explain Calculus to him.
But for those of you who skipped all that excess wordage, here is the point. There are an alarming number of Celtic fans who seem to want nothing better than to watch certain Celtic players fail while wearing the Hoops. There are an alarming number of 'supporters' who spend their 90 minutes on a Saturday watching and waiting for certain Celtic players to make a mistake that gives them a chance to jump all over the players back. And there are an alarming number of Celtic supporters who will do this week in, week out, regardless of how the player in question is actually playing.
Currently, Celtic have two whipping bhoys. Evander Sno is spared much of it because he barely plays. But he only has to appear from the dugout for the murmurs to start. Gary Caldwell, on the other hand, has to endure 90 minutes of moans and murmurs and furfuxsakeCaldwells every time he takes to the field.
Now the following opinion may be controversial to some of you. What I'm about to say may be some sort of footballing blasphemy along the lines of Dylan going electric, but I'll say it anyway. Gary Caldwell is not the worst player ever to pull on the Hoops. He isn't even the worst player in our current squad. Gary Caldwell is actually a decent, solid (if average) footballer.
There. I've said it. Deep breathe. Take a second to ponder that, all you Furfuxsake Caldwell! chanters. Allow the thought to permeate into your consciousness and let it gently simmer there while I explain why I think such blasphemous thoughts.
I'll take last nights match against Falkirk as an example. Caldwell had a good game. He wasn't spectacular, but then he never is. No one is suggesting that he's any kind of Cafu while playing at Right Back. But boy does he put in a good shift. For 90 minutes last night he worked the right hand side from box to box, always making himself available, never hiding from a pass, always willing to provide an outlet and offer support where needed. For 90 minutes he played good balls down the line for Scott McDonald to run on to, usually following up his own pass to provide support. And while others in the team are content to launch the high ball up the park whenever possible, Caldwell usually looked for feet, or for the run, or for the simple pass out of a tight situation. Defensively, he made one vital block that kept the scoreline at 1-0, and provided good cover throughout the 90 minutes.
Yet despite this, come the 75th minute he played a poor pass straight to a Falkirk player and it started. Furfuxsake Caldwell! 3-0 against a team down to 10 men, he's barely put a foot wrong all night, and still it happens.
Now I'm not saying for a minute that Gary Caldwell was man of the match. But he did have a good, solid game. And that's usually what you get from him. Rarely spectacular, but in the same light, rarely dreadful - yet more blasphemy, I'm sure. He's had his bad moments, true. People still talk about his performance in Lisbon last season when he did indeed have a very poor 90 minutes. But what is less mentioned is that up until that night Caldwell had been playing well. He had made a decent start to his Celtic career. After Lisbon he clearly lost a bit of confidence and struggled until he picked up the injury that kept him out for over 3 months. By the time he came back Celtic players were dreadful en masse.
More recently, he gave away a stupid unnecessary penalty that led to 2 dropped points at Tynecastle. It was a stupid, reckless challenge that didn't need to be made. Criticism merited. But again, it's conveniently forgotten that the Hearts game was sandwiched in between two vital European games against Shaktar and Milan, and, at the risk of being blasphemous once more, Caldwell acquitted himself very well in both of those games.
Against St Mirren at the weekend he didn't play particularly well, but then against St Mirren at the weekend who did play well? Are we to beat a guy with a stick for having a poor game when everyone else on the park was just as bad? The truly infuriating thing about the abuse Caldwell receives is that he's not only playing out of position, he also works his ass off for 90 minutes of any given game and never tries to hide no matter how bad he or the team may be playing.
Yet still he is greeted with a chorus of Furfuxsake Caldwell! whenever a pass goes astray, or he misses a tackle or he fails to skip past 4 players and rifle one into the top corner from 20 yards. Worse, listen as whoever has the ball turns and rolls it out to our makeshift Right Back and you'll usually hear a muttering of Whit yeh passen tae him fur!. He hasn't even got the ball yet and 'supporters' are having a go at him. Usually the ball is being passed to him because he's the only player who's bothered to put himself into a position receive the pass, but hey, I suppose it's easier to have a go at a player than consider that.
The irony of the Caldwell debate is that there are, amongst his critics, people who would play Bobo Balde ahead of him. For those of you too young to remember, Bobo is an internationally recognised bomb threat of a defender - so much so that the US military have drawn up contingency plans to abduct and secure him should there be any danger of him falling into the hands of Al-Qaeda.
Gary Caldwell is no right back. He's a short term stop-gap playing in a position he clearly isn't comfortable playing in. Hopefully we can solve that problem in the January transfer window, but until then we're stuck with the problem. We rightly moaned when Petrov was continually played on the right by MON. We still do it when Strachan plays Brown out wide. And in doing so we give those players the benefit of the doubt when they turn in a poor performance - because they aren't playing in their natural position. It's about time we give the same benefit of the doubt to Gary Caldwell. And it's about time we give him the credit he's due for sticking to the task despite all the criticism he has to endure each week.
I'll finish by leaving you some questions to ponder for homework. Who is more deserving of criticism? A player playing out of position, who puts in 100% effort and makes the most of his limited talent? The manager who continually plays the player out of position? Or a player with natural ability and talent who puts in 50% effort and who's contribution to the cause is way below what could be expected of him? It seems to The Paranoid Tim that there are people at Celtic Park more deserving of criticism than Gary Caldwell.
posted by Moravcik67 @ 3:46 PM
19 comments
