Co-operative Insurance Cup Final.
Hampden Park.
I’ve always wondered why some fans turn away from the action during football matches, or cower behind colourful scarves, and pull their bobble hats down over their eyes. You’d think that, even in the most tense and nail-biting of games, the action is hardly worth missing; that you’d want to soak in every chance, every foul, and every missed penalty; more so in local derbies, and especially in cup finals.
Both sets of fans during the Scottish League Cup Final this afternoon were guilty of reaching for makeshift guards to shield their eyes away from what was happening on the newly laid Hampden grass, however it wasn’t because of an end-to-end football match full of skill, controversy and goals, but more because they were bored out of their brains, praying to some higher power that something, anything, would blast an edgy, yet frustratingly dire final into life.
Suffice to say, 83 minutes passed with a minuscule amount of chances worth mentioning; a dodgy series of passes littered the first half, Broadfoot and Ferguson for Rangers both opting to fire long, looping passes to either Celtic’s defence, or worse – open space; a style of football that Celtic decided to copy, despite having three of the smallest players (Brown, McGeady and McDonald) playing as their most attacking options up front. Passes from Ferguson highlighted how he is a shadow of his former self, as possession was lost on an all too frequent basis, and his fellow midfielders McCulloch, Mendes and Davis were only able to shine in sitting back and cancelling attacks rather than creating their own.
Celtic were not much better. Nakamura proved he could find a pass every now and then, yet he still prefers to wander out of position, whilst Brown and Hartley weren’t able to settle the game down into a rhythm with passes and slight runs being thwarted by greater numbers in the equally determined opposition.
A good percentage of cup finals between fierce rivals are usually summed up by footballing phrases such as “cancelling each other out” or “either side couldn’t find a way through”, highlighting the close battles between sides of equal quality and determination, but in the case of this old firm battle, neither team showed any interest in taking the game to their opponents. Both sides had questionable form going into the final, and would have been the opportunity to show their close rivals that the season belonged to them. However, with potential match-winning players such as Boyd and Samaras warming the bench, coupled with bizarre squad formations that questions what kind of tactics, if any, the managers told their players to adhere to, you wonder how this final would have been received to a neutral watching Scottish football for the first time. “Is this the best you have to offer?” they’ll undoubtedly ask.
A scrappy and nervous first half had to wait until the 25th minute before Scott Brown struck a right footed shot slightly over, and then McDonald’s header five minutes later was hopeful rather than dangerous. The game lacked first time passes when they were needed, giving the opposition time to reshape and close down. Rangers first proper shot took 40 minutes to arrive, from Steven Davis, however it would have been more at home at Murrayfield yesterday than Hampden today. In the second half, Lafferty’s control-cum-shot did well to test the ever-increasingly annoying Boruc, but the resulting corner summed up a lot about Rangers attacking play; flimsy and unpredictable, a phrase that can also be used to describe the Celtic goalkeeper, as the “wehays” from the crowd after an hour were aimed at some dodgy control and wayward punches. A goalkeeper, much like Fabien Barthez, who can be equally as brilliant as he is useless.
As the 90 minute-mark came closer, both sides decided to stretch the game more. Samaras came on with 20 minutes left, and then Boyd joined in 5 minutes later, and some late nerves from defenders meant chances finally started to appear. However, the game was to be settled in extra time with a bullet header from stand in defender O’Dea, and a penalty converted by the pacey McGeady.
The media were quick to praise players of ‘brilliant’ and ‘class’ performances, however to the unbiased eye, who is not trying to entice the attention (and the wallet) of Rupert Murdoch and SKY, the game was no more than average, bordering on boring. To pick a man of the match from the 28 players who were involved is no easy task: O’Dea did his job well, and McGregor did enough to prove he is Rangers’ best player, but that’s where the praise ends, I’m afraid. Scott Brown was average at best, McDonald was limp, whilst Boruc, Caldwell and Hartley did nothing to consider themselves worthy of the cup winning bonus they now take home on top of their pay packet. Miller did nothing to even consider himself as an international striker, Mendes was poor, Whittaker lethargic, and I’m very surprised that Old Man Weir isn’t in a home somewhere, recollecting to his great grandchildren about the 1929 cup final, let alone playing in the 2009 one.
I’m comforted by other football fans who spoke to me after the match that “sometimes [football] is like this”. I can’t argue if thats right or wrong, but I’m struggling to remember the last time a football match was so bad I wanted to switch over to the rugby instead.
Medals, cups and league positions all highlight the fact that these two sides are undoubtedly the best two sides in the history of Scottish football, yet on today’s display, and reflecting on current form, the best football is currently being played somewhere else in Glasgow.
