Little news roundup
Edwin van der Sar won the Premier League with Manchester United, and made a nice little speech/got many ovations from the Old Trafford faithful: have a look at all the lovely pics on Getty!
Wesley Sneijder is tweeting away, hoping to be fit for one last game this season and then see his wife, Yolanthe (who apparently isn't living in Italy with him).
Ruud van Nistelrooy has played his last game for Hamburg after coming back from injury, and caused many ovaries to spontaneously combust. *squees at little Liam*
Mark van Bommel won Serie A with AC Milan, and looked very yummy while doing so.
Plus, I managed to get my hot little hands on an advance copy of Soccer Men: Profiles of the Rogues, Geniuses, and Neurotics Who Dominate the World's Most Popular Sport today. It's by Simon Kuper, the author of the very interesting Soccernomics, and while I highly doubt the book will catch on in the States - it's far too detailed, topical, and date-specific for anyone who doesn't already know the sport to catch on (the profile on VDS, for example, was written in 2005 and doesn't have any info such as 'oh btw, he's just about to retire' etc.) - I enjoyed it very much. It might be a bit naughty of me but I'm going to put some quotes beneath this cut, since I've found excerpts from several profiles in articles Kuper's written that are widely available on the internet.
Around the same time, Davids strode up to the tennis player Richard Krajicek in an Amsterdam bar and said: 'I bet you don't know who I am.' Krajicek confirmed that he did not.
'My name is Edgar Davids,' said Davids. 'In a few years' time I'll be playing for Holland and driving a big car. You'll be hearing more from me.' Then he stalked off again.
This anger within has made him the player he is today. --- Edgar Davids, March 1999
He pops into the canteen afterwards wearing a grey woollen Italianate coat: the Best Dressed Man in Britain 1996. He has a drink with his teammates (not alcohol, never alcohol) and after five minutes says goodbye and is off in his people carrier (the new thing among continental footballers, who are emerging from the sports car age), which has what looks like a small boat strapped to the roof. From the canteen there is nary a backward glance. --- Ruud Gullit, February 2000
The Den Bosch youth coach still remembers that after Van Nistelrooy scored in the game, instead of remaining blase like a normal Dutch kid, he raced off cheering. --- Ruud van Nistelrooy, August 2001
Bergkamp also liked the way the English experience football: with passion, but never really as a matter of life and death. Told about the replica shirts bearing his number and the name 'God', the pious Christian remarked: 'Luckily in England there's a bit of irony behind it. In Italy they really believe it.' --- Dennis Bergkamp, May 2003
De Michelis said that the way football works is that if the manager tells the players to defecate in a corner of the practice field, everyone would oblige without question and only the bravest player would ask: 'Certainly, mister, but what colour should our shit be?' Only Seedorf would dispute the very principle of defecation. Football is not yet ready for him, but after a few more European Cups, recognition awaits as a psychotherapist or prime minister. --- Clarence Seedorf, May 2003
'Goalkeepers are crazy', according to football cliche, but Van der Sar isn't. He says: 'I sometimes see nice, quiet boys go nuts on the pitch. Then I think: they can say I'm a "dead one", but I don't think those guys are 100 per cent.' --- Edwin van der Sar, August 2005
Because he is never injured and always improving himself, he was able to advance inexorably from Quick Boys to Liverpool. This is an indictment of other football players. Kuyt's rise implies that his colleagues, even those who aren't sots, are performing below potential. If they all lived like Kuyt, professional football would be a better game. 'Doing your best isn't a chore, is it?' he asks. 'I must thank God on my bare knees that I became a football player. And I do.' --- Dirk Kuyt, September 2006
Cruijff had grown up a few hundred yards down the road from the club's little stadium, in Amsterdam-East. He had been hanging around the changing room with the first team since he was four. Nonetheless, he surprised his new teammates. It wasn't just his brilliance they noticed: it was his mouth. Even while on the ball, the kid never stopped lecturing, telling senior internationals where to run. Maddeningly, he generally turned out to be right. ---Johan Cruijff, May 2009
No matter what the result of the CL final on Saturday there will most likely be a big sobby spampost put up in the aftermath by myself and austengirl bemoaning Edwin's retirement. Grab for your tissues and bear with us.
Chime in with any other news you have, I'm sure I've missed plenty!
Wesley Sneijder is tweeting away, hoping to be fit for one last game this season and then see his wife, Yolanthe (who apparently isn't living in Italy with him).
Ruud van Nistelrooy has played his last game for Hamburg after coming back from injury, and caused many ovaries to spontaneously combust. *squees at little Liam*
Mark van Bommel won Serie A with AC Milan, and looked very yummy while doing so.
Plus, I managed to get my hot little hands on an advance copy of Soccer Men: Profiles of the Rogues, Geniuses, and Neurotics Who Dominate the World's Most Popular Sport today. It's by Simon Kuper, the author of the very interesting Soccernomics, and while I highly doubt the book will catch on in the States - it's far too detailed, topical, and date-specific for anyone who doesn't already know the sport to catch on (the profile on VDS, for example, was written in 2005 and doesn't have any info such as 'oh btw, he's just about to retire' etc.) - I enjoyed it very much. It might be a bit naughty of me but I'm going to put some quotes beneath this cut, since I've found excerpts from several profiles in articles Kuper's written that are widely available on the internet.
Around the same time, Davids strode up to the tennis player Richard Krajicek in an Amsterdam bar and said: 'I bet you don't know who I am.' Krajicek confirmed that he did not.
'My name is Edgar Davids,' said Davids. 'In a few years' time I'll be playing for Holland and driving a big car. You'll be hearing more from me.' Then he stalked off again.
This anger within has made him the player he is today. --- Edgar Davids, March 1999
He pops into the canteen afterwards wearing a grey woollen Italianate coat: the Best Dressed Man in Britain 1996. He has a drink with his teammates (not alcohol, never alcohol) and after five minutes says goodbye and is off in his people carrier (the new thing among continental footballers, who are emerging from the sports car age), which has what looks like a small boat strapped to the roof. From the canteen there is nary a backward glance. --- Ruud Gullit, February 2000
The Den Bosch youth coach still remembers that after Van Nistelrooy scored in the game, instead of remaining blase like a normal Dutch kid, he raced off cheering. --- Ruud van Nistelrooy, August 2001
Bergkamp also liked the way the English experience football: with passion, but never really as a matter of life and death. Told about the replica shirts bearing his number and the name 'God', the pious Christian remarked: 'Luckily in England there's a bit of irony behind it. In Italy they really believe it.' --- Dennis Bergkamp, May 2003
De Michelis said that the way football works is that if the manager tells the players to defecate in a corner of the practice field, everyone would oblige without question and only the bravest player would ask: 'Certainly, mister, but what colour should our shit be?' Only Seedorf would dispute the very principle of defecation. Football is not yet ready for him, but after a few more European Cups, recognition awaits as a psychotherapist or prime minister. --- Clarence Seedorf, May 2003
'Goalkeepers are crazy', according to football cliche, but Van der Sar isn't. He says: 'I sometimes see nice, quiet boys go nuts on the pitch. Then I think: they can say I'm a "dead one", but I don't think those guys are 100 per cent.' --- Edwin van der Sar, August 2005
Because he is never injured and always improving himself, he was able to advance inexorably from Quick Boys to Liverpool. This is an indictment of other football players. Kuyt's rise implies that his colleagues, even those who aren't sots, are performing below potential. If they all lived like Kuyt, professional football would be a better game. 'Doing your best isn't a chore, is it?' he asks. 'I must thank God on my bare knees that I became a football player. And I do.' --- Dirk Kuyt, September 2006
Cruijff had grown up a few hundred yards down the road from the club's little stadium, in Amsterdam-East. He had been hanging around the changing room with the first team since he was four. Nonetheless, he surprised his new teammates. It wasn't just his brilliance they noticed: it was his mouth. Even while on the ball, the kid never stopped lecturing, telling senior internationals where to run. Maddeningly, he generally turned out to be right. ---Johan Cruijff, May 2009
No matter what the result of the CL final on Saturday there will most likely be a big sobby spampost put up in the aftermath by myself and austengirl bemoaning Edwin's retirement. Grab for your tissues and bear with us.
Chime in with any other news you have, I'm sure I've missed plenty!