This week’s ATP World Tour Tennis Finals at the O2 arena have been fascinating to watch.  However despite the brilliant play, atmosphere and setting, one thing has been seriously lacking…organisation!

Firstly, the scheduling has been widely criticised for a lack of foresight with late finishes harming attendance. Each day’s opening session of the much maligned round robin group format starts at 12.30pm with a doubles encounter which, to the British public’s credit, has been fantastically received. A singles match then follows finishing around 5pm before a prolonged break until the night session with the final match starting no earlier than 8.45pm. This has led many praying for a quick finish in order to catch the last train home and left reporters in a mad dash to meet their deadlines for the morning’s papers.

The format has posed problems too, no more so than last night and the surreal scenario which knocked Britain’s No.1 Andy Murray out in the group stages by just a single game. Murray went into his final match with Fernando Verdasco thinking a win would all but assure him a place in the semi-finals. However once the Scot won in three tight sets, the situation became even more complicated. Throughout the day the game’s governing body, the ATP, had been swamped by confused journalists seeking confirmation to the rulings. Finally word got out that Murray’s place in the semi-finals would be secure as long as Juan Martin Del Potro did not beat World No.1 Roger Federer in three sets and even then there would be a chance that Murray could take the Argentine’s place due to games won throughout the tournament.

This set up a tantalising final match with everything to play for. However the confusion over the qualification status of each player soon overshadowed the match itself. And when Roger Federer forced a deciding third set the ATP had even more questions to answer. Eventually Del Potro won the match 6-2 6-7 6-3, enhancing his reputation as one of the game’s most exciting young talents and defeating the World No.1 in a repeat of the US Open final.

Del Potro is left to wait after his 6-2 6-7 6-3 win (Getty Images).

In hindsight the result was clear, however at the time it was anything but. In fact, the ATP refused to confirm who had qualified for an agonising 15 minutes after the match had ended, leaving Del Potro stranded on-court unaware of his fate. Soon after, Sky Sports reporter Mark Petchey attempted to conduct what can only be described as a bizarre interview with Del Potro (see above), only to be told that the organisers had yet to confirm the official result. Instead the Argentine invited Manchester City footballer and fellow countryman Carlos Tevez on court to entertain the crowd with an impromptu hitting session.

Meanwhile Andy Murray had to ask his twitter followers whether they knew if the official ruling had been announced because no one at the ATP had contacted him about the decision. He wrote: “Anyone know what’s going on?? I think I’m audi (out) but the rules aren’t worded too well”.

Finally the ATP officials, walkie talkies in hand, emerged with the official result. The six game margin of victory meant Del Potro overtook Murray in games won throughout the week and ensured that the Argentine qualified at his expense. Relief for Del Potro but heartbreak for Murray who missed out on a semi-final place by just one game despite beating Del Potro on the opening day of the tournament and finishing the week with a 2-1 win ratio along with Federer and Del Potro.

The night had descended into a farce and made a mockery out of the ATP and it’s ability to organise, communicate and frankly do some simple mathematics. Let’s hope today doesn’t offer up any more ‘difficult’ calculations to deal with or, better still, that some lessons have been learnt from last night’s embarrassing display.

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Top tweets:

@5livetennis “ATP officials changed their minds about qualification scenarios 3 times in an hour! Shocking that organisers don’t know what’s going on…”

@piersnewbery “Nerves, tension, gripped by fear? You must be in the O2 arena media centre praying that delpo doesn’t win this in three.”

@katiejobien “Looks like Tevez isn’t as talented with his hands as he is with his feet. I’m sure Henry could do a better job.”

@andy_murray “Anyone know what’s going on?? I think I’m audi but the rules aren’t worded too well”

@Bryanbros “Still can’t believe the craziness that just happened in the matches. I think the abbreviation for World Tour Finals explains it best. WTF!?”

Check under the cut for the New Balls version of ‘what I did on my holidays’ …

1. Crossing Over To The Enemy Feels a Little Bit Good

I became one of those people who everybody hates last night. Sitting in my corporate box, eating and drinking, blithely chatting away between points. And it was basically awesome, except for the company. Which is not to say that the people I was with weren’t great and even in some cases related to me. But something in me rebels at having to explain the rules of a tiebreak during the tiebreak, or overhear comments like ‘Del Potro’s number five? So he’s only got five points?’, or being the only person who didn’t leave during the final set to catch a cab or a train in comfort without having to deal with the crowds. All things considered, I’d almost rather have been down with everybody else.

Almost. The free bar just clinches it.

2. Tennis at the 02? Actually Brilliant.

I could not have imagined, having been acres away from Girls Aloud and so forth, that sticking a tennis court in the middle of the arena would have worked so well, but it did. There can’t have been a bad seat in the house in terms of the view you were getting of the court, and for such a large venue it felt surprisingly intimate. And the somewhat cheesy gimmicks – the countdown, the ‘let battle comence!’, the heartbeat with accompanying graphics and so forth – actually weren’t that annoying. A bit patronising, maybe; I overheard someone remarking in annoyed tones when ‘BREAK POINT’ flashed up over their heads, “Yes, we know.” But it is immediately involving and allows the casual tennis fan to get a sense for the narrative of a match instantly. So, in general, good job.

3. I Suck In Front Of a Camera

I am never judging the people in the little ‘talking to the audience’ vignettes they show on TV ever again, with their frozen smiles and inane comments. I’d always assumed that they chose to be on camera, maybe even queued up for it or something. It doesn’t happen like that. How it happens is that a benign-looking woman approaches you and says ‘Can I ask you a quick question?’ like she’s about to ask you for directions. You say ‘Sure’, at which point she spins you round to face the two men armed with a giant camera and one of those sound thingys who have crept up behind you while you were completely oblivious, and barks ‘So who do you think is going to win the whole thing?’. You’re so startled that you say the first thing that comes into your head – which, oddly, is ‘Roger Federer’. At which point, not content with totally ambushing you and shocking you into an inane answer, she actually has the temerity to ask you to give your stupid answer again and better.

Anyway, you know the bit in High Fidelity when the journalist asks the protagonist for his top five songs or whatever, and he’s been waiting his whole life to get asked that question, and he’s so shocked he says completely idiotic things and it torments him internally?

It was basically like that.

4. Juan Martin del Potro. The Mona Lisa. One of These Things Is Not Like the Other.

I was concerned that actually properly watching Delpo play, finally (after a mere fleeting glance of him at Wimbledon when he was just a stripling) would be a let down. How could it not be, right? At best, he’d be exactly the same as he was on TV and I wouldn’t get anything more out of it. Plus he’d look smaller, because in my head he’s an actual giant. You can see where the Mona Lisa comparison comes in.

But unlike going to the Louvre and seeing that painting, it turns out Elf is actually bigger and better in person. As it happens, my hugely inflated idea of his stature was quite literally correct; he IS an actual giant, a fact that was not lost on those around me (the words ‘brick’, ’shithouse’ and ‘built like a’ were generally floating around in the ether). He’s also, and I know this sounds odd, much quicker than he looks on the TV. His slow, unassuming mooch around the court is much more purposeful, and his movement is just remarkable. I’ve grown to hate hearing commentators and pundits say, whenever his name is brought up, ‘del Potro moves well for a big man’. But when you see how he maneouvres his long limbs and gets his body out of the way of the ball, it’s actually really hard not to turn to the person next to you and say in tones of slight awe, ‘Moves well for a big man, doesn’t he?’.

And those limbs are LONG. At Wimbledon, I couldn’t take my eyes off Federer’s legs. Last night, I barely noticed Roger was there. My god, Elf’s arms. The acres of them. I can’t write further about it otherwise I will need a lie down in a darkened room.

5. He Plays Tennis, Too.

I had convinced myself (with some justification) that there was almost no chance that he would win. I just wanted him to get a set so that I could enjoy him for longer. And there’s no question that the majority of the audience were there expecting him to play the role of sacrificial lamb. They wanted to see, to quote my sister’s disappointed comment at the end of the first set, ‘awesome Federer’. Instead we saw a match.

Does anybody crash a party quite like Delpo? When I think about his previous matches with Federer, particularly the double-bagelling which will live long in infamy, and then about how he played last night, I can’t believe how far he’s come in such a short space of time – or how young he is. (People around me refused to believe he was only 21 when I told them.) I can’t speak about the match in detail and I refuse to try; it’s pretty much a blur and was at the time, I just got so lost in watching him. But the way he came out and took the match away from Federer and refused to give it back … that was something to see.

It’s a cliche, but the force with which he strikes the ball is unbelievable when you see it live. I know, everybody says it – but it’s true. From the very first game, his forehand drew involuntary gasps from the whole crowd, whoever they’re supporting. You can’t not react. It has a visceral effect. And the clean, relentless pace of his backhand … I really do need to lie down for a bit.

Basically, what I’m saying is: did you know Elf is actually really good at tennis?

He is.

6. Wimbledon Awaits

All that’s needed for del Potro to be taken to the hearts of the British public? Going deep at Wimbledon so people become aware of him (getting past the second round would be a start). Don’t get me wrong, there are obstacles, most notably the fact that he has three syllables in his surname; that’s not how we like to cheer. “Rog-AH!” or “Fed’RUH!” on the other hand works well after a good “come on!”; “del Potro’ not so much. But then some bright spark starts shouting ‘come on, Del Boy!’ and it’s love.

Seriously. There were two quite young boys in the box next to mine who started off by yelling ‘Come on Roger!’ after literally every single point. By the end, they’re screaming for Delpo. So, incidentally, was I.

7. You Can Rely on the ATP to Ruin a Good Moment

I hear rumours that people watching at home had handy charts and graphs and stuff. Not so much where I was. The best we had was the ’sets won/lost’ tally I’d scribbled on the back of my hand on the tube, and even that had (a) been done from memory, (b) smudged quite a lot, and (c) probably inaccurate to start with. I knew that if del Potro won in three it would come down to game differential. What I didn’t know was what that meant: number of games won, or the win-loss percentage? Where I went wrong was assuming that someone, perhaps oh, say, the tournament organisers, would know. ‘This is a very awkward moment, isn’t it?’ Petch commented while Delpo was left standing there like a lemon. He was not wrong.

All of which is to say that I think a large number of people left the o2 not sure whether del Potro had made it through or not, and those of us who did stay to find out weren’t sure quite how, although a heated debate on that subject did serve to liven up the weary waiting for the tube. Shouldn’t there have been people with spreadsheets and calculators or, god, an abacus or something backstage keeping track of how each game in the third set affected the qualification scenarios? Is it THAT hard, ATP? As it was, if anything could have made me sad last night, it would have been seeing Murray’s rather forlorn tweet still not knowing whether he was in or out fifteen minutes after the match.

I’m not sure at what point it was confirmed to Elf, but the crowd weren’t told after he’d spent a good few minutes knocking up with Carlos Tevez. Who is crap at tennis. Anyway, the whole thing was ridiculous and marred what had been a fantastic match and (I thought) a brilliant Elf performance.

8. Carlos Tevez Is Really Ugly.

And yet strangely hot. True story.

… And that is what I did with my Thursday night.

In editorialul “Football Made In UK” semnat pentru <Fotbal Vest>, punand cap la cap o serie de stiri provenind in doar cateva zile din diverse tabere, ce mi-au ridicat mingea la fileu sa intreb daca nu cumva convocarile devin pe zi ce trece un deranj tot mai pagubos, am constatat cum conflictul cluburi – selectionate nationale s-a ascutit la varf ca lupta de clasa in fotbalul in varianta globalizata.  

Ambitia si visul sublim al oricarui fotbalist de a imbraca tricoul reprezentativei tarii sale n-au palit nicidecum dar, in functie de circumstante, unii jucatori isi reevalueaza tot mai atent lista prioritatilor.

Iar in lumina ghinionului lui Robin Van Persie de a se accidenta destul de serios in minutul 10 al recentului joc amical Italia – Olanda, intr-o toamna in care “tunarul zburator” fusese mai dezinvolt si prolific ca niciodata in rolul sau majorat in angrenajul lui Wenger, s-ar putea gasi fotbalisti din natiuni mai putin capabile sa sclipeasca pe scena mondiala ori din nationale redutabile in ale caror echipe n-ar fi destul de buni sa incapa, intrebandu-se daca mandria de a fi convocat nu e cumva eclipsata de “deranjul” ce implica o asemenea responsabilitate.

Asemenea dubii nici c-ar fi existat sa zicem acum un deceniu. Dar de cand recompensele au explodat in fotbalul de club, ce ofera nenumarate posibilitati de afirmare, si gandul de a sunta o convocare ce s-ar putea solda cu o accidentare punand in pericol o cariera si asa nu foarte lunga s-a infiripat in planurile unora. La putine zile distanta, doi jucatori din lotul lui Manchester City, club cumparat anul trecut de bogatasi arabi, si-au exprimat indoielile in privinta continuitatii lor pe scena fotbalului la nivelul selectionatelor nationale.

Craig Bellamy, un plimbaret in fotbalul de club, s-a intrebat in public daca mai are rost sa se chinuie la capitania Tarii Galilor intr-o increcare de accedere la un turneu final neconcretizata peste ani de compatriotul sau Ryan Giggs. Desi n-a smuls deloc aplauze, galezul a fost inteles de exemplu de Allan McInally, fost international scotian, ce a opinat ca pentru unii fotbalisti in varianta globalizata a jocului, ajunsi la o anumita varsta si cu sacii de galbeni incarcati in caruta, dorinta de a continua in paralel la echipa nationala a capatat o nuanta mai opaca.

Avantaj Ashley Williams, un fundas oarecare ce nici nu si-ar fi imaginat acum un an si jumatate, la debutul in nationala Tarii Galilor, ca va deveni capitan al “Dragonilor”, si nici atat in urma cu 6 ani, cand nu evolua la divizionara secunda Swansea City, ci la amatoarea Hednesford Town, in paralel cu slujba cu jumatate de norma ca ospatar. Foarte improbabila o asemenea ascensiune intr-o nationala de calibru si s-ar putea crede ca orice Van Persie si-ar dori mai ales un triumf global cu reprezentativa sa pe cai mari, insa o alta voce a venit sa infirme aceasta supozitie.

Poate ca Tevez, celalalt recrut al lui City punand la indoiala dorinta de a mai juca pentru tara sa,  a aruncat castana tocmai pentru a-l sensibiliza pe Maradona sa-l ia in considerare pentru FIFA 2010 World Cup, dar iesirea sa ar putea fi intr-adevar onesta. Spunand ca s-a saturat de fotbal, inclusiv de cel de club, si ca si-ar dori sa-si intoarca fata spre viata de familie, Carlos a subliniat ca argentinienii de lot nu s-au menajat nici pe departe cand a fost vorba sa “dea totul” pentru echipa nationala.  

Cei doi i s-ar putea asadar alatura in exil septarului lui City, Stephen Ireland, ale carui minciuni legate de decesul bunicilor sale, strecurate managerului Steve Staunton in speranta de a-si scurta sederea la lot si a-si vizita prietena dar dezvaluite ca atare de mass-media, au dus la ruptura mijlocasului de lotul national al Irlandei. Ireland, pe urmele altui mijlocas ajuns la cutite cu reprezentativa verde, candva al ei capitan Roy Keane. Ulterior, in campania abia incheiata, Trapattoni si Liam Brady au incercat sa-l scoata pe Ireland din cochilia ce si-o armase in urma excluderii sale din lot dar, cu toate ca pe alocuri septarul cochetase cu ideea revenirii, antrenorul n-a fost convins ca mijlocasul ar dori cu ardoare sa imbrace din nou tricoul verde. De fapt, in cazul lui Ireland, totul s-a rostogolit spre un deznodamant previzibil, odata ce a intrat in conflict cu selectionerul Brian Kerr, la nationala sub 18 ani, si a trebuit sa dea din nou ochii cu acesta la preluarea reprezentativei de seniori. Ireland a trebuit sa astepte instalarea lui Staunton pentru a fi din nou convocat… 

Iar cam pe cand Van Persie gemea in Pescara, un rival in fotbalul de club era déjà inapoi in Londra, cu o potentiala sedere pe tusa de cateva saptamani. Frank Lampard doar a facut deplasarea la Doha, pentru remarcabilul amical Anglia – Brazilia organizat insa in inedita gazduire din lumea araba, dar nici nu s-a mai pregatit pentru alinierea in fata sud-americanilor, lasata pe umerii a doar doi potentiali titulari, Barry si Rooney, ingrosand in schimb infirmeria lui Ancelotti. Sir Alex Ferguson si-o freca pe de-o parte mainile pentru necazul italianului si-al lui Wenger, dar va atrage probabil pe de alta parte atentia la vorbele sale, mereu in disonanta cu “nevoile” selectionerilor de lot. Frecusurile lui Fergie cu Sven sunt binecunoscute si n-au mirat pe nimeni deciziile unor Scholes ori Neville de a spune pas pentru Albion. Miza era prea mare in Premier League si Champions League.

Iar pe cand Van Persie calatorea spre “Cizma”, nebanuind ce-l asteapta, din sanul lui West Ham United razbatea vestea ca Dean Ashton, cumparat de club la inceputul anului 2006 pe o suma record de peste 7 milioane lire sterline, e in prag sa-si agate ghetele in cui. La 25 de ani. Masivul varf chiar marcase pentru “Ciocanari” in memorabilul 3-3 al finalei de Cupa Angliei cu Liverpool, din 2006, dar trei luni mai tarziu, la chiar primul antrenament al convocarii sale in premiera la lotul national, isi rupea glezna. Un an pe tusa si o recidiva, coincidenta stranie, la prima sedinta a visiniu-albastrilor sub bagheta lui Gianfranco Zola. A trecut un an si Ashton, un potential varf pentru Albion, tot nu vede luminita de la capatul tunelului. Totul i se trage insa de la acea convocare in premiera, o onoare cu doua taisuri.

De la alt club, in acelasi timp, un comunicat de presa raspandea vestea retragerii din fotbal a unui jucator lovit de accidentari. La 26 ani, John Kennedy a aruncat prosopul dupa un deceniu petrecut la Celtic Park, drama sa conturandu-se in minutul 18 al meciului sau de debut pentru Scotia, in 31 martie 2004, cand era faultat de Vio Ganea intr-un amical castigat de Romania cu 2-1. Fundasul era monitorizat la vremea respectiva chiar de AC Milan, o postura onoranta tinand cont de numele de calibru ce au consolidat peste ani defensiva rosso-nerilor, insa John n-a mai vazut luminile rampei internationale pana in februarie 2007, la un joc de Champions League tocmai cu… milanezii, la care a luat loc pe banca de rezerve, revenind dupa ani pierduti prin sali de recuperare. Paguba era insa produsa si genunchiul i-a dat ulterior din nou in primire. Federatia a despagubit-o pe Celtic dar un alt club si-a vazut un potential lider irosit sub flamura steagului national.

Asa cum corporatiile preiau tot mai mult rolul statelor, estompand granitele, si fotbalul de club castiga teren pe zi ce trece, in detrimentul nationalelor, ghinion ca al vedetei Van Persie ori al “sperantei” Ashton dand apa la moara carcotasilor.

Iar scurtcircuitele lui Van Persie, Lampard, Bellamy, Tevez, Ashton ori Kennedy au venit in cascada intr-o saptamana fotbalistica indoliata de tragedia lui Robert Enke. Un om ce a intors spatele vietii cu 4 zile inaintea jocului Germania – Chile, la care nu fusese convocat. 

Liga Premier

Manchester United goleo 3-0 al Everton

Sunderland 1-0 Arsenal

Chelsea le puso una goliza al Wolverhampton 4 goles a cero.

Liverpool empata a dos goles contra el Manchester City

Hull City 3-3 West Ham United

Tottenham Hotspur MASACRA al Wigan Atlhetic 9 goles a 1

Birmingham City 1-0 Fullham

It took Carlos Tevez little more than four months at Manchester City to become completely fed up with football.

“It’s complicated, there’s my family, the desire to return to Boca Juniors, but I think about it. It crosses my mind to hang up my boots if we win the World Cup, although I have a contract [with Manchester City] until 2014,” he said.

“I’m a bit tired of so much football, so much football. I want to enjoy my family a bit. I’m very keen to stop and get a bit of calm. I’ve already won a lot. Living for football has saturated me.”

Compare this to the Tevez we remember from Old Trafford (or indeed West Ham) where he became a crowd favourite thanks to his energy, passion, work-rate and commitment. To be fair, the quotes don’t make it 100% clear whether he’s just talking about international football. But the main reason why he left United (apart from the money) was that he wanted to play more football!

Even apart from Tevez there seem to be plenty of opportunities for Mark Hughes to practice his man-management skills at the moment. Robinho appears to be angling for a move to Barcelona. It was a long time ago since Micah Richards played anywhere near his huge potential. And most people thought that regular first team football would improve Wayne Bridge but he seems to be moving in the opposite direction.

A solid display earnt Blues a point on a night when they may feel hard done by to not have all three.

The back four were rarely tested by an attacking line up compromising of Tevez,Santa Cruz, Bellamy and Wright Phillips. Bellamy on the left and Wright Phillips on the right failed to dominate Stephen Carr and Liam Ridgewell. Ridgewell continuing to fill in at left back, doing well defensively however his distribution isn’t great.

James McFadden, who is usully reliable from the spot, hit a weak penalty to Givens left and the keeper ,who once again showed why he is one of the best in the world, saved with ease.

Match Report

It’s another encouraging performance witnessed by Mr Yeung, what must have been as encouraging for Blues fans would have been seeing him and his associates looking like they were getting involved and enjoying the action.

I had a formative cultural experience in London last night.

No, it didn’t entail that controversial new Damien Hirst exhibit over at the Wallace Collection. Nor did I catch that hot new production at the Donmar Warehouse. Nope. My cultural immersion was much more authentically British: I attended my first professional soccer game.

Today, I’m over at PoliticsDaily.com talking about the seminal role soccer plays in European life and how living here has changed my attitude towards the sport. Read it here…

Image: Soccer Dude by Brit. via Flickr under a Creative Commons License.

Robinho, Manchester City’s Brazilian star has again fuelled speculation that he is to leave Eastlands by saying moving to Barcelona would help his quest to become the best player in the world.

The 25-year-old told a Brazilian radio station that although he was happy with the rumours linking him with the Catalan giants, he was in no way trying to engineer a move away from City.

However, if Robinho does leave England next summer, or even in the January transfer window, for pastures new, how much will he really be missed by a team whose profile has risen considerably since he joined in the summer of 2008?

When the player, who was ominously dubbed as Pele’s heir apparent by the legend himself, first came to Manchester, he was regarded as the coup which proved the Eastland’s club now had the financial clout to worry the big four.

A year later and City have significantly increased their number of world-renowned players. Emmanuel Adebayor, Carlos Tevez, Roque Santa Cruz and Gareth Barry were all bought in the last transfer window to considerably boost the squad’s strength.

This has not only taken the limelight off the Brazilian, who was the undoubted star of the team last season, but has also meant that his absence for most of this season through injury has gone unnoticed.

City have so far amassed 18 points from 9 matches, and with a game in hand look like one of the teams that could potentially profit on the increasing error-prone big four so far.

While Robinho was an immediate succcess for the first half of last season, he faded somewhat after Christmas, and was often anonymous when playing away from home.

And if Robinho does move on, considering the limitless funds available to City, there won’t be too many Blues fans who will be fearing the lack of a replacement coming along.

Especially considering, despite the highest praise in his Santos days, Robinho has shown greatness only sporadically in his career so far. Half a good season last season and a handful of memorablr performances for Real Madrid have reinforced the view that he is too hit and miss.

While he is only 25, City may feel they have already got the best out of him, and if he is already talking of a move to Barcelona, it may be good business to cash in on him and move on.

Robinho is a very good player when he wants to be, but with the type of money City have available, they could replace him quite easily without feeling they’ve let the star of their team go.

Gracias a Messi, Argentina se fue arriba en el 1er tiempo, y con la asistencia de Carlitos Tevez.  Tevez participo en los dos goles.

Uruguay se va al repechage contra Costarica que quedo con 16pts.

Wallpaper High Quality 1280×1024

E’ la settimana dei bastardi. E’ la settimana delle mazze dell’Apache. E’ la maledetta settimana delle svastiche sulle fronte. Urge post a metà tra Quentin e i campionati. Allora con gli occhi ancora pieni del sangue degli scalpi crucchi e le orecchie frullate dal dialetto del Tennessee immagino quali tra i giocatori stellari si candidino dritti dritti per un ipotetico sequel/reboot degli Inglourious e non solo.

1. al numero uno, all’angolo sulla vostra sx, il peso gallo Franck “lo sfregiato” Ribéry. Centrocampista offensivo, buca lo schermo con la sua enorme cicatrice e il suo affascinante volto da oscuro dadaista. Quentin gli riserverà lunghi ed intensi primi piani in cui sorseggia Virgin Piña Colada in un sudato bar di periferia parlando forbitamente della teoria del Rasoio di Occam.

2. al numero due, all’angolo sulla vostra dx, il peso welters Carlos Carlito “The Apache” Tévez. Come membro del Piola Vago, Quentin lo disegnerà come ardito ed esperto conoscitore della variazione folk colombiana cumbia villera. Il dialogo tra lui e una stunt americana andata in Colombia per farsi chiudere in una bara di legno durerà circa 10′ e sarà tutto in panoramica avvolgente. Utilizzato da Tarantino in più riprese, toccherà l’apice postmoderno con una scena di transizione lunghissima (ma con la tensione che sale a mille) che lo vede spostarsi da un capo all’altro del mondo per uccidere la proprietaria di una casa del the che in realtà è una sanguinaria vedova yakuza. Attaccante potente, è in grado di spaziare lungo l’intero fronte offensivo. Con un nunchaku griffato Galliano.

3. Coprotagonista di sostanza. Jakob Stam detto Jaap. Peso massimo. Forte nel gioco aereo e nell’uno contro uno. Quentin ha in serbo per lui uno Stetson coloro albume e un sigaro cubano. Nonostante le sue origini olandesi, Quentin vuole fare di lui un rifugiato pieno di odio che spara a tutti proiettili rasoterra. E beve solo latte freddo con il succo di frutta. In una sequenza che ti arriva in faccia come un montante impossibile da incassare, verrà visitato da un cattivissimo e religiosissimo Juninho Pernambucano che lo vuole arruolare nelle squadre speciali del Bope. Segue breve combattimento in cui la potenza del Juninho “infighters” è tutta controbilanciata dallo slugger potente dell’olandese. Sulle note di Il Buono, Il Brutto e Il Cattivo.

4. Il vero protagonista. La star. Peter “lo Snello” Crouch.
Coinvolto in una rapina stellare che ovviamente andrà a puttane, sarà impegnato da Mr.Tarantino in una rutilante partita di carambola in cui alla fine ucciderà 10 uomini con il gesso da dare alla punta della stecca. Vicino a lui Kim Kardashian ballerà vestita da geisha e alla fine gli staccherà un orecchio. Nel flashback che lo vede protagonista, che si spezzetta in dieci piccoli altri flashback, la sequenza in cui si fa tatuare il bulbo oculare da Pam Grier vestita di soli calzini di spugna.

5. Last but not least. Antonio Cassano. Quentin aveva in serbo per lui la parte di un dissidente ispirata ad un pezzo di pellicola rimasta sotto il cartoccio di pizza di Enzo G. Castellari. Doveva essere quello che se la cava in un mexican standoff ispirato a Cani Arrabiati di Mario Bava. Ma poi Antonio gli disse: “Quentin, scusa ma oggi c’è umidità. Devo andare a mettere la coperta di lana a scacchi sulla Ferrari”. Quentin trasecolò. Pensò ad un film solo per lui. Il resto nelle miglior sale.

Firmato

miss madsen

Argentine will not be shy about showing his delight against the men from Old Trafford.

Manchester City striker Carlos Tevez will celebrate should he ever score against former club Manchester United. The Argentine refused to do so when he bagged a brace against West Ham United on Monday night, but that politeness does not seem to apply to all of his former clubs.

A coin was thrown at Tevez at half-time during the Manchester derby at Old Trafford, and he was roundly jeered when he applauded the Stretford End.

As such, he will not be shy about showing his glee should he net against the Red Devils.

“I’ve decided not to celebrate my goals out of respect to West Ham. They were my first club in England and, in my heart, part of me will always be a Hammer,” he told The Daily Mail.

“In the derby against United I had also decided not to celebrate our goals but, after the bad treatment I received from the supporters that day, I have changed my stance on that.

“If I score in the next derby then I am sure that I will celebrate.”

Goal

Carlos Tévez no festejó los dos goles que le marcó al West Ham en el último partido de la jornada, pero no dudó en asegurar que saboreará el momento si logra ver portería ante su ex equipo.

Pese a que ya ha pasado más de una semana del caliente derby de Manchester que se decidió con gol de Michael Owen en el polémico tiempo añadido, el argentino Carlos Tévez demostró que los jugadores del City, y él en particular, no han olvidado lo sucedido en Old Trafford. ‘El Apache’, que salió por la puerta de atrás del ‘Teatro de los Sueños’ por su mala relación con Sir Alex Ferguson y que fue víctima de todas las iras de los seguidores del United por su fichaje por el gran rival ciudadano, no dudó en asegurar que celebrará un gol ante su ex equipo.

Y es que Tévez no celebró ninguno de los dos tantos que le marcó al West Ham en el último partido de la pasada jornada y que acabó con victoria por 3-1 de los que dirige Mark Hughes. En el 1-0, logrado en el minuto 4, el argentino incluso llegó a juntar las manos en señal de disculpa delante del fondo en el que se encontraban los seguidores ‘Hammers’ desplazados al City Of Manchester Stadium. Una imagen que contrasta plenamente con la vivida hace algunas semanas justo en esa esquina del estadio en la que Emmanuel Adebayor desató toda su rabia contra los seguidores del Arsenal, su ex equipo.

“Decidí no celebrar mis goles por respeto al West Ham. Fue mi primer equipo en Inglaterra, está en mi corazón, y parte de mi siempre será un ‘Hammer’”, afirmó Tévez, que también aseguró que “en del derby de Manchester también decidí no celebrar los goles de nuestro equipo, pero después del trato recibido he cambiado de opinión. Si marcó en el próximo derby seguro que lo celebraré”.

‘El Apache’ fue el gran héroe de la histórica salvación del West Ham la temporada 2006-2007. Tras llegar a Londres junto a Javier Mascherano, pasó varios meses de difícil aclimatación al fútbol inglés durante los que los ‘Hammers’ se hundieron en el fondo de la clasificación de la Premier League. Sin embargo, una racha de siete victorias en las últimas nueve jornadas sirvió a los de Alan Curbishley para mantenerse en la máxima categoría, gracias, sobretodo, a Tévez. El argentino marcó todos los nueve goles logrados durante la temporada en el impresionante tramo final, incluido el que suponía matemáticamente la salvación, curiosamente, en Old Trafford (0-1).