Three of last season's top four – Chelsea, Manchester United and Arsenal - played home matches on this opening weekend, the same three (albeit out of a different quartet) to have ever had their names engraved on the Premiership trophy. But while the Sunday games went with the form book and bookies' expectations, defending champions Chelsea and last term's runners-up Man United both having comfortable wins, the Saturday club was an altogether less comfortable one for the alleged challengers, Liverpool and Arsenal both having to scrap their way from behind to salvage a point. I guess their fans, though disappointed, were at least a bit more chipper than those of that other one-time Premiership winner Blackburn, who had to witness a graceless collapse to Harry Redknapp's latest jumble-sale Pompey squad.
More on that later, but let's start with Man United, who are now top of the table thanks to their 5-1 win over an egregiously poor Fulham side. Rooney and Ronaldo scored three of the goals between them and seemed to have gotten over any World Cup hang-ups if their hugs over the middle goal of the trio were anything to go by, and the returning Scholes looked a bit like his old self in midfield. But nonetheless it was a bit hard to tell how well the rest of the home team were gelling since the Cottagers were so poor, literally imploding after Saha's early opener through contribution of an own-goal, after which they always seemed to know the match was beyond them. Rio Ferdinand sought to prove that whatever Ian Pearce could do, he could of course do better, adding a consolation goal for Fulham that they were entirely incapable of scoring for themselves before the break, but in truth the game had already been over half an hour before the half-time whistle went, let alone the full-time one. Sir Alex looked quite unlike himself in the post-match interview, not only because he seemed to have obtained a proper sun-tan to cover up the whisky nose, but because he was smiling – he looked a little less happy when asked about the forthcoming 3 match suspensions for both Scholes and Rooney, but all the same managed to stay pretty diplomatic about it – and of course while he'll have to do without the very useful looking Rooney in facing Charlton, Watford and Spurs, the granny-fancying young striker will return just in time for a fired-up match against Arsenal.
Diplomacy seems to have abandoned some people in dealing with this evening's second placed team, Chelsea's management and proprietorship having been memorably described during the week as a bunch of Siberian scheisters by its former chairman Ken Bates, who after all should know a true scheister when he sees one, even when he hasn't taken a hundred million or so of their money while selling them a bankrupt club. Pausing as we do only momentarily over the image of Bates's mother conjured by the Leeds United press release in response to the news that Chelsea were upset about the description – if you didn't already read of it, you owe it to yourself to check their website for it here verbatim – we shan't fall into the same trap, but instead try to work out what the opening 3-0 win for the defending champions means. Essentially, it's plus ça change as far as I can see – never looking much like conceding a goal even with Cudicini rather than the still convalescent Cech in goal, and even before Man City were reduced to ten men, the blues had taken the lead with a Terry header from a soft free-kick and a fortunately deflected Lampard shot (this seeming so full of déjà vu to me that I briefly checked to see if I'd saved the text on a clipboard from last season). Drogba's powerfully driven header was at least a quality goal to settle the game, and Shevchenko's first shout for a handball penalty against Richard Dunne should have been given (even if his many subsequent ones were more correctly ignored), so the points were deserved, but I couldn't help myself but wonder at the three new signings who came on as subs, one of whom went on strike at his former club to gain the wages, and one of whom caused a payoff to be made to Man United after allegations of sharp dealing including kidnap in his transfer. Still, at least the pitch looked in reasonable shape.
As did that at Ashburton Grove, which the Arsenal hierarchy would have us refer to as the Emirates Stadium, and which I won't bore you by eulogising over (this week). The final one of our trio of Champions League qualifiers to play at home, Arsenal failed to fully exploit home advantage, perhaps because the new ground felt a bit too new and lacking in history to truly be home just yet, but where credit should also be given to Martin O'Neill in organising an as yet pretty much static Villa squad into a far more cohesive defensive unit than his managerial predecessor David O'Leary, ironic given the said ex-centre-half's defensive credentials. Villa's 10-0-0 formation was brutally effective at negating the gunners' natural passing game once they'd unexpectedly taken the lead, though they were indeed fortunate to have kept out a number of efforts, three or four of them cleared off the line, and to have seen Toure's marginally offside header correctly chalked off, prior to then.
But while the first 70 minutes of the new ground's first league game were frustrating in the extreme for me, the last 20 were by contrast very encouraging, as they comprised what was seemingly revealed as indeed being the overdue debut of one Theo Walcott, who came on for the always game but flagging Ljungberg. Immediately effective, lively, penetrating and above all else quick, the youngster couldn't quite reprise his England U21 debut performance form midweek, where he scored after three minutes, but he did create the opening for Gilberto's equaliser and provided enough of a glimpse of his talents to be justifiably described as “simply brilliant” – and those words coming from opposing manager Martin O'Neill rather than just me, thanks very much. Watch this space with anticipation, was the sense I was left with, as well as with an unanswerable “what if” question about Sven's inability to quite follow-through on Arsene's belief in the boy in Germany.
Diplomacy seems to have abandoned some people in dealing with this evening's second placed team, Chelsea's management and proprietorship having been memorably described during the week as a bunch of Siberian scheisters by its former chairman Ken Bates, who after all should know a true scheister when he sees one, even when he hasn't taken a hundred million or so of their money while selling them a bankrupt club. Pausing as we do only momentarily over the image of Bates's mother conjured by the Leeds United press release in response to the news that Chelsea were upset about the description – if you didn't already read of it, you owe it to yourself to check their website for it here verbatim – we shan't fall into the same trap, but instead try to work out what the opening 3-0 win for the defending champions means. Essentially, it's plus ça change as far as I can see – never looking much like conceding a goal even with Cudicini rather than the still convalescent Cech in goal, and even before Man City were reduced to ten men, the blues had taken the lead with a Terry header from a soft free-kick and a fortunately deflected Lampard shot (this seeming so full of déjà vu to me that I briefly checked to see if I'd saved the text on a clipboard from last season). Drogba's powerfully driven header was at least a quality goal to settle the game, and Shevchenko's first shout for a handball penalty against Richard Dunne should have been given (even if his many subsequent ones were more correctly ignored), so the points were deserved, but I couldn't help myself but wonder at the three new signings who came on as subs, one of whom went on strike at his former club to gain the wages, and one of whom caused a payoff to be made to Man United after allegations of sharp dealing including kidnap in his transfer. Still, at least the pitch looked in reasonable shape.
As did that at Ashburton Grove, which the Arsenal hierarchy would have us refer to as the Emirates Stadium, and which I won't bore you by eulogising over (this week). The final one of our trio of Champions League qualifiers to play at home, Arsenal failed to fully exploit home advantage, perhaps because the new ground felt a bit too new and lacking in history to truly be home just yet, but where credit should also be given to Martin O'Neill in organising an as yet pretty much static Villa squad into a far more cohesive defensive unit than his managerial predecessor David O'Leary, ironic given the said ex-centre-half's defensive credentials. Villa's 10-0-0 formation was brutally effective at negating the gunners' natural passing game once they'd unexpectedly taken the lead, though they were indeed fortunate to have kept out a number of efforts, three or four of them cleared off the line, and to have seen Toure's marginally offside header correctly chalked off, prior to then.
But while the first 70 minutes of the new ground's first league game were frustrating in the extreme for me, the last 20 were by contrast very encouraging, as they comprised what was seemingly revealed as indeed being the overdue debut of one Theo Walcott, who came on for the always game but flagging Ljungberg. Immediately effective, lively, penetrating and above all else quick, the youngster couldn't quite reprise his England U21 debut performance form midweek, where he scored after three minutes, but he did create the opening for Gilberto's equaliser and provided enough of a glimpse of his talents to be justifiably described as “simply brilliant” – and those words coming from opposing manager Martin O'Neill rather than just me, thanks very much. Watch this space with anticipation, was the sense I was left with, as well as with an unanswerable “what if” question about Sven's inability to quite follow-through on Arsene's belief in the boy in Germany.
Anyway, given he's still got two years' eligibility himself for U21 games despite having made the full Spain squad off the back of the same managerial confidence, it seems slightly odd to comment on Cesc Fabregas as Theo's more experienced role-model, but I'd just love to see Walcott, or indeed anyone else, reprise the Spaniard's beautifully timed tap on Graham Poll's instep... that's the way to do it, lad, no ref's looked that daft hopping up and down since Paulo DiCanio pushed Paul Alcock over! Forgive me, I just had to mention that one final point before moving on...
Doing so in Liverpool's direction, we find ourselves at the first match involving a promoted side from last season, since the scousers went away to Bramhall Lane for their first match of the new campaign, and found the Blades heavier going than they had done Chelsea a week ago. The consistently excellent Riise's injury, which will sideline him beyond Liverpool's finely balanced second leg Champions League qualifier this Tuesday, was unfortunate for him and also for the team, which lost its shape completely after his and Jamie Carragher's enforced departures, and Rafa Benitez can be very thankful to have rescued a point with the completely undeserved penalty which Rob Styles, rivalling Poll as the Premiership's most smugly self-justifying official, somehow decided to give “for intent” rather than actual contact in the box, and which Robbie Fowler very coolly converted. Although it's not unusual for Liverpool to take a little while to get going at the start of a season – last term having been a bit different due to the extended Champions League qualifying compromise – they really need to get it right on Tuesday with an away goal chalked against them. Perhaps they'll be hoping that the Israeli opposition is, like Arsenal, a bit confused to find itself playing a home tie in a ground in which they've not yet kicked a ball in anger...
Doing so in Liverpool's direction, we find ourselves at the first match involving a promoted side from last season, since the scousers went away to Bramhall Lane for their first match of the new campaign, and found the Blades heavier going than they had done Chelsea a week ago. The consistently excellent Riise's injury, which will sideline him beyond Liverpool's finely balanced second leg Champions League qualifier this Tuesday, was unfortunate for him and also for the team, which lost its shape completely after his and Jamie Carragher's enforced departures, and Rafa Benitez can be very thankful to have rescued a point with the completely undeserved penalty which Rob Styles, rivalling Poll as the Premiership's most smugly self-justifying official, somehow decided to give “for intent” rather than actual contact in the box, and which Robbie Fowler very coolly converted. Although it's not unusual for Liverpool to take a little while to get going at the start of a season – last term having been a bit different due to the extended Champions League qualifying compromise – they really need to get it right on Tuesday with an away goal chalked against them. Perhaps they'll be hoping that the Israeli opposition is, like Arsenal, a bit confused to find itself playing a home tie in a ground in which they've not yet kicked a ball in anger...
The other matches involving the newly promoted sides showed, I think, that they'll be providing a sterner challenge in terms of retaining top-flight status than in most recent years. The official results will show that Watford were beaten at Goodison by two goals to one, but in truth that result was a travesty hinging on two comically inept penalty decisions, one at either end of the pitch. The Toffee's eventual winner was an expertly converted spot-kick awarded for a handball by Chris Powell, the only problem being that the Cahill cross he'd blocked – pretty much unknowingly – had hit him full in the face rather than on either arm, while at the other end Alan Stubbs's pretty blatant forearm block had gone unwhistled.
Which leads us to Reading, who looked to be on a sticky wicket after going two goals down to visiting Boro within 20 minutes, but who came back to level the scores at half time, at which point Steve Coppell introduced this week's poster boy and match-winner, Leroy Lita, whose blasted effort just ahead of the hour mark ended up ruining Gareth Southgate's debut managerial game. Master and student, you couldn't help thinking, although in fairness to Southgate he had already been trying in vain to sign a decent defender or two (essentially to replace himself) before this outcome made the squad deficiency all the more obvious.
This performance by the three promotees was all a bit reminiscent of Wigan's impressive start to last season, but although the Lactics showed typical dogged spirit, they lost by the odd goal in three to Newcastle at a very soggy-looking St James' Park. Elsewhere, the remaining three games of the Premiership weekend all had a common theme, which was how much better North London based strikers can, albeit fleetingly, perform once they've moved on unwanted rather than when all depends on them...
At the Reebok, a toothless-looking Spurs squad watched new great (Lily-)white hope Berbatov amble aimlessly around the final third for 90 inconsequential minutes. Now, I'm told by something of an inside source that this is something he often has to do in the West End in the wake of his girlfriend, who's adapting brilliantly to Premiership WAG status from humble Bulgarian roots, but on this occasion it was more damaging than usual since Kevin Davies and Ivan Campo had already put the Trotters two ahead in the first quarter of an hour, Campo's speculative 40 yarder being particularly embarrassing for Paul Robinson.
Where's the contrast I was mentioning? Well, over at Upton Park, Bobby Zamora was the lynchpin of a Hammers come-back after Charlton had led through a Darren Bent spot-kick, though Traore's needless dismissal was of course not unhelpful to the home side's cause. Zamora, who while in a Spurs shirt was so wasteful in front of goal that he couldn't hit the farm, let alone the barn, let alone its door, of whom opposition supporters would sing (to the tune of Amore) the delightful “when the ball hits the bar, or goes over by far, that's Zamora”, and who of course was only playing at all due to the broken ankle suffered by Dean Ashton in training ahead of his aborted England debut in midweek, had not become any more elegant, but however scruffy his finish may still have been, his second was the match-winner.
But this was nothing compared to the transformation in Kanu's form at Fratton Park. Harry Redknapp commented after the game that he had been surprised by the performance of his new acquisition given that the Nigerian hadn't had time to train, seemingly oblivious to the fact that this had never really been one of the gangly striker's strong points anyway. But Kanu was a revelation, adding a brace to Todorov's opener which completely belied his Baggies form, which in case you'd forgotten included the world's most dramatic miss from one half of one yard out, and seemed to recall in snatches something of his immortal twenty-minute solo demolition of Chelsea from the bench during the 1999/2000 season. Mind you, his penalty kick for a possible hat-trick certainly seemed to be reminiscent of that era too, albeit from Copenhagen's shootout rather than Stamford Bridge, lazily chipped at the keeper and with the follow-up nodded wide.
So, 10 games down and 370 to go, and it's good to be back in the thick of the Premiership action. Can't wait for the next round of games...
Which leads us to Reading, who looked to be on a sticky wicket after going two goals down to visiting Boro within 20 minutes, but who came back to level the scores at half time, at which point Steve Coppell introduced this week's poster boy and match-winner, Leroy Lita, whose blasted effort just ahead of the hour mark ended up ruining Gareth Southgate's debut managerial game. Master and student, you couldn't help thinking, although in fairness to Southgate he had already been trying in vain to sign a decent defender or two (essentially to replace himself) before this outcome made the squad deficiency all the more obvious.
This performance by the three promotees was all a bit reminiscent of Wigan's impressive start to last season, but although the Lactics showed typical dogged spirit, they lost by the odd goal in three to Newcastle at a very soggy-looking St James' Park. Elsewhere, the remaining three games of the Premiership weekend all had a common theme, which was how much better North London based strikers can, albeit fleetingly, perform once they've moved on unwanted rather than when all depends on them...
At the Reebok, a toothless-looking Spurs squad watched new great (Lily-)white hope Berbatov amble aimlessly around the final third for 90 inconsequential minutes. Now, I'm told by something of an inside source that this is something he often has to do in the West End in the wake of his girlfriend, who's adapting brilliantly to Premiership WAG status from humble Bulgarian roots, but on this occasion it was more damaging than usual since Kevin Davies and Ivan Campo had already put the Trotters two ahead in the first quarter of an hour, Campo's speculative 40 yarder being particularly embarrassing for Paul Robinson.
Where's the contrast I was mentioning? Well, over at Upton Park, Bobby Zamora was the lynchpin of a Hammers come-back after Charlton had led through a Darren Bent spot-kick, though Traore's needless dismissal was of course not unhelpful to the home side's cause. Zamora, who while in a Spurs shirt was so wasteful in front of goal that he couldn't hit the farm, let alone the barn, let alone its door, of whom opposition supporters would sing (to the tune of Amore) the delightful “when the ball hits the bar, or goes over by far, that's Zamora”, and who of course was only playing at all due to the broken ankle suffered by Dean Ashton in training ahead of his aborted England debut in midweek, had not become any more elegant, but however scruffy his finish may still have been, his second was the match-winner.
But this was nothing compared to the transformation in Kanu's form at Fratton Park. Harry Redknapp commented after the game that he had been surprised by the performance of his new acquisition given that the Nigerian hadn't had time to train, seemingly oblivious to the fact that this had never really been one of the gangly striker's strong points anyway. But Kanu was a revelation, adding a brace to Todorov's opener which completely belied his Baggies form, which in case you'd forgotten included the world's most dramatic miss from one half of one yard out, and seemed to recall in snatches something of his immortal twenty-minute solo demolition of Chelsea from the bench during the 1999/2000 season. Mind you, his penalty kick for a possible hat-trick certainly seemed to be reminiscent of that era too, albeit from Copenhagen's shootout rather than Stamford Bridge, lazily chipped at the keeper and with the follow-up nodded wide.
So, 10 games down and 370 to go, and it's good to be back in the thick of the Premiership action. Can't wait for the next round of games...