The TSA Premiership Awards
It's another gala night at the Borris-in-Ossory Hilton for the TSA Premiership Awards in association with Johnnie Onion Rings (FIFA's official corn snack partner). See the glittering procession of guests, the great and the good....here's David May....is that Stig Inge Bjornebye? Look, getting out of the limo, it's Nelson Vivas! Fingers crossed for Linvoy Primus too!
Without further ado....
The Oddjob Award for Best Evil Henchman
Once again, none did his master's bidding quite so well as Richard Keys this year. The furry fella imparts the information that the Premiership is the best league in the world with dogmatic certainty, his eyes blazing like an Islamic fundamentalist looking forward to all those virgins.
The highlight? During the prematch studio chuntering a few weeks back, David Platt made reference to his transfer to Italy in 1991. "Back then Italy was the place to be," said the man who looks like an off-camera magician is just about to make egg appear out of his mouth, "although of course now the Premiership is on a par."
"B-b-b-better, don't you mean, surely?" blurted Keys nearly freaking out at the sacrilege of it.
"Good work Richard," came the Aussie growl in his earpiece, perhaps.
The Dog & Duck Award for Best Sunday League Player
Michael Ball of Manchester City, whose stamp on Christiano Ronaldo, while attracting the scorn and condemnation of the cosseted Premiership community, drew breathless admiration from park football hatchet men everywhere. The timing, the audacity...beautiful.
The McGyver Award For Making Something Out of Nothing
Steve Coppell's newly promoted Reading were hotly fancied to return from whence they came, having made few improvements to the squad which had won the Championship last season.
Fools, didn't they know that, in order to be a proper Premiership club, you must engage superagent Pini Zahavi to source for you £20m worth of surly Venezuelan strikers, injury-prone veteran Italian defenders and Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink? What did they think they were playing at with these Sidwells and Shoreys and Doyles and such? Oh.
The Niall Quinn Award for Making Robbie Keane Look Good
Dimitar Berbatov was one of the big successes of the season, a magnificient talent whose form is sure to elicit some hefty tests of Tottenham's contention that they are not a 'selling club' come the transfer bazaar.
As well as dazzling in his own right with his control, vision and poise, he formed a profitable partnership with Ireland's own Robbie Keane. Keane is much like a sheepdog (with roughly the same footballing intelligence). Left to his own devices he might drive your flock over a cliff. But under the control of a wise farmer, he can be whistled and yelped at sufficiently to get even the most stubborn ewe into the, er, thing with the fences around it.
Much like Sunderland's magic carpet-riding chairman in his latter days as Ireland's beanpole get-out, Berbatov's expert reading of the game meant that the Bulgarian had brains enough for both of Tottenham's strikers.
The Drunken Uncle at a Wedding Award for Bad Celebrating
Alex Ferguson had plenty to celebrate this year, his team achieving what he regards as his greatest Premiership title victory. However, his reaction to most of his team's goals is familiar to anyone who has ever been embarassed by an aged relative's dancing. Two little fist pumps, then a skip forward, and another one and - oh dear, I think you'd better have a sit down.
Compare that to his dynamic celebration of Steve Bruce's winner against Sheffield Wednesday in that crucial victory on the run-in to 1993 title, and then tell me his powers aren't waning.
Best Gatecrashers
Any viewing of a Watford or Sheffield United game brought to mind those moments at parties when everyone realises that the two tramps playing air guitar to Bohemian Rhapsody are not actually "friends of John's" at all: "How the hell did they get in here?"
The Neville Chamberlain Award for Services to International Relations.
Carlos Tevez arrived at West Ham, along with Javier Mascherano, to a mildly perplexed but generally positive reaction. Then everything went pear-shaped for the Hammers. Why? Because of the two Argie blokes they just signed innit? Everyfing was awwwight before they went and came 'ere, with their foreign ways!
Thankfully Tevez did not understand a word of what the Alf Garnetts were saying, and soon became the driving force behind the Hammers revival (the small matter of the complete illegality of his registration notwithstanding), dragging the club to safety despite 'im being foreign an' all.
The Life of Brian Award for Mistaken Messiah
Aston Villa fans thought they'd probably be looking forward to the Champions League around now. Maybe not the title just yet, that would come. Martin O'Neill you know - he's a messiah isn't he? If he got Leicester into Europe, and Celtic to a UEFA Cup final, then surely Villa could expect the loaves and fishes pretty sharpish.
Then came that point in the season when it was noted that O'Neill had only garnered a single point more than dear old, unlamented David O'Leary. Seems even Martin O'Neill can't turn Villa around just like that. He's not a miracle-worker after all.
The Bobby Ewing Award for Comeback of the Season
Paul Scholes struggles with injury, including a worrisome eye problem, seemed to spell the demise of one of the modern English game's foremost attacking midfielders. The sight, then, of the ginger magician quietly orchestrating Manchester United's sweetest movements as if he'd never been away was pleasing to all but the most rancidly prejudiced anti-Unitedista.
He even contributed an update to The Bradford Volley, with an even more spectacular effort against Aston Villa. And he still can't tackle.
Without further ado....
The Oddjob Award for Best Evil Henchman
Once again, none did his master's bidding quite so well as Richard Keys this year. The furry fella imparts the information that the Premiership is the best league in the world with dogmatic certainty, his eyes blazing like an Islamic fundamentalist looking forward to all those virgins.
The highlight? During the prematch studio chuntering a few weeks back, David Platt made reference to his transfer to Italy in 1991. "Back then Italy was the place to be," said the man who looks like an off-camera magician is just about to make egg appear out of his mouth, "although of course now the Premiership is on a par."
"B-b-b-better, don't you mean, surely?" blurted Keys nearly freaking out at the sacrilege of it.
"Good work Richard," came the Aussie growl in his earpiece, perhaps.
The Dog & Duck Award for Best Sunday League Player
Michael Ball of Manchester City, whose stamp on Christiano Ronaldo, while attracting the scorn and condemnation of the cosseted Premiership community, drew breathless admiration from park football hatchet men everywhere. The timing, the audacity...beautiful.
The McGyver Award For Making Something Out of Nothing
Steve Coppell's newly promoted Reading were hotly fancied to return from whence they came, having made few improvements to the squad which had won the Championship last season.
Fools, didn't they know that, in order to be a proper Premiership club, you must engage superagent Pini Zahavi to source for you £20m worth of surly Venezuelan strikers, injury-prone veteran Italian defenders and Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink? What did they think they were playing at with these Sidwells and Shoreys and Doyles and such? Oh.
The Niall Quinn Award for Making Robbie Keane Look Good
Dimitar Berbatov was one of the big successes of the season, a magnificient talent whose form is sure to elicit some hefty tests of Tottenham's contention that they are not a 'selling club' come the transfer bazaar.
As well as dazzling in his own right with his control, vision and poise, he formed a profitable partnership with Ireland's own Robbie Keane. Keane is much like a sheepdog (with roughly the same footballing intelligence). Left to his own devices he might drive your flock over a cliff. But under the control of a wise farmer, he can be whistled and yelped at sufficiently to get even the most stubborn ewe into the, er, thing with the fences around it.
Much like Sunderland's magic carpet-riding chairman in his latter days as Ireland's beanpole get-out, Berbatov's expert reading of the game meant that the Bulgarian had brains enough for both of Tottenham's strikers.
The Drunken Uncle at a Wedding Award for Bad Celebrating
Alex Ferguson had plenty to celebrate this year, his team achieving what he regards as his greatest Premiership title victory. However, his reaction to most of his team's goals is familiar to anyone who has ever been embarassed by an aged relative's dancing. Two little fist pumps, then a skip forward, and another one and - oh dear, I think you'd better have a sit down.
Compare that to his dynamic celebration of Steve Bruce's winner against Sheffield Wednesday in that crucial victory on the run-in to 1993 title, and then tell me his powers aren't waning.
Best Gatecrashers
Any viewing of a Watford or Sheffield United game brought to mind those moments at parties when everyone realises that the two tramps playing air guitar to Bohemian Rhapsody are not actually "friends of John's" at all: "How the hell did they get in here?"
The Neville Chamberlain Award for Services to International Relations.
Carlos Tevez arrived at West Ham, along with Javier Mascherano, to a mildly perplexed but generally positive reaction. Then everything went pear-shaped for the Hammers. Why? Because of the two Argie blokes they just signed innit? Everyfing was awwwight before they went and came 'ere, with their foreign ways!
Thankfully Tevez did not understand a word of what the Alf Garnetts were saying, and soon became the driving force behind the Hammers revival (the small matter of the complete illegality of his registration notwithstanding), dragging the club to safety despite 'im being foreign an' all.
The Life of Brian Award for Mistaken Messiah
Aston Villa fans thought they'd probably be looking forward to the Champions League around now. Maybe not the title just yet, that would come. Martin O'Neill you know - he's a messiah isn't he? If he got Leicester into Europe, and Celtic to a UEFA Cup final, then surely Villa could expect the loaves and fishes pretty sharpish.
Then came that point in the season when it was noted that O'Neill had only garnered a single point more than dear old, unlamented David O'Leary. Seems even Martin O'Neill can't turn Villa around just like that. He's not a miracle-worker after all.
The Bobby Ewing Award for Comeback of the Season
Paul Scholes struggles with injury, including a worrisome eye problem, seemed to spell the demise of one of the modern English game's foremost attacking midfielders. The sight, then, of the ginger magician quietly orchestrating Manchester United's sweetest movements as if he'd never been away was pleasing to all but the most rancidly prejudiced anti-Unitedista.
He even contributed an update to The Bradford Volley, with an even more spectacular effort against Aston Villa. And he still can't tackle.
Labels: football, premiership
posted by Tommy77 at 3:13 p.m.
3 Comments:
Nice awards. Just wondering who presented them? Bjorn Tore Kvarme? Torben Piechnik? Massimo Taibi? Pascal Cygan? Who..Who..please tell me who??
Elton Welsby compéred...also spotted on the red carpet were Mike Marsh, Uwe Rosler and the great man himself, Tony Yeboah.
Should there be a Salary Cap in Football?
Personally I think there should be! It’s just getting to be stupid money in football at the top of the premiership!
It’s always the same teams at the top proving that football success is based purely on money which ruins the idea of it being a sport! They’ve done it in rugby, basketball, hockey and American football and it makes the sports more competitive and better to watch!
I do a little Sports Spread Betting from time to time and most matches don’t hold much surprise who is going to win, its boring! I want to see a team at the bottom pulling off an amazing season beating last seasons winners in a close fought battle!
Make things fair! It shouldn’t be about money!
Post a Comment
<< Home