Paolo Di Canio has today been confirmed as the new Swindon Town manager. Here’s a tribute to him, taken directly from the Sabotage Times.

On the day Paolo Di Canio returns to English football as manager of Swindon Town, we look at the goals, glory and insanity of one of football’s cast-iron nutters.

Careful with that arm, Paolo…

On the day Paolo Di Canio returns to English football as manager of Swindon Town, we look at the goals, glory and insanity of one of football’s cast-iron nutters.

You’ve got to hand it Paolo Di Canio, he doesn’t do things by halves. Weeks after Swindon Town were relegated to the fourth tier of English football, Di Canio rocks up in shades and a sharp suit as the new manager of the club.

One of the most exciting players to have graced the Premier League, he is equally revered for his goals and commitment and reviled for his self-confessed fascism. Whatever happens next season at The County Ground, it certainly won’t be dull and, for Swindon Town fans, the least they can expect to see is effort. It was Di Canio, remember, who said that he ‘wanted to finish every game sweating and bleeding.’

Here’s a trip down mental memory lane…

On his political views…

“I am fascist, not racist. I do the Roman (fascist) salute to greet our supporters and those who share my ideas. This gesture is in no way an incitement to violence and even less about racial hatred.”

On Nigel Winterburn

One second, Winterburn is barking at me like a dog. The next he is wetting his pants. All I did was look at him.

On Fabio Capello

“F*** yourself. Who are you to talk to me like this.” I said. He took a step back and fell over a kit bag.

On doping

Doping in English football is restricted to lager and baked beans with sausages. After which the players take to the field belching and farting.

On Francesco Totti

Totti had said that he wouldn’t sit at the same table and have dinner with me. I said that was no great loss, because if you tell Totti that there are tensions in the Middle East, he’ll think that a fight has broken our on the right side of midfield.

On superstition

When I was warming up, someone told me that my shorts were on backwards. I hadn’t noticed. Before the game, the manager said: “Come on Paolo, put them right.” “No way!” I told him. “Are you crazy?” he said. But I knew it was a sign. We won 2-1 at Upton Park, I scored both and we beat Arsenal for the first time in 14 years.

Harry Redknapp tells Paolo Di Canio stories

Catching the ball

His top 5 goals

The golden age is over! The likes of Gerrard, Lampard and Beckham are all in their 30’s and seemingly starting to feel the pace of the modern game. With such dependence on these key figure heads in recent years who will come through and replace them? Has England learnt from previous criticism over the lack of English players in the game and poor academy setups? Today we are going to find out who might replace such great players.

1. Jack Wilshire
At just 19 Jack Wilshire has become one of the finest centre midfielders in the country and is now one of Arsenals most important players. His ability to command the midfield and play defence splitting balls has made many draw comparisons between him and Paul Scholes. He would be a welcome addition to any team and bring a great level of flair and energy to Arsenal’s game.

Where will he be in 5 years?: Established himself as a pivotal player for Arsenal but interest from other clubs is likely to grow. The recent lack of trophies at the Emirates suggests a move could be on the cards.

2. Jack Rodwell
Jack made his first appearance for Everton at just 16 years of age and since then has established himself as a first team regular. Similar in many ways to Wilshire, Rodwell has energy and vision far beyond his years. His rising profile has helped attract interest from big clubs such as Manchester United and it has long been suspected that he will make the switch to Old Trafford this summer. With such a move he surely must become a contender for an England place.

Where will he be in 5 years?: A big money move to a larger more profile club is inevitable. Most likely Manchester United.

3. Alex Chamberlain
It could be argued that Chamberlain is still relatively unknown as he is yet to establish himself as a house hold name. This will come in time as he currently plays for Southampton but the whiz kid is one of the most highly regarded youngsters around. Not only are big premier league teams in the hunt to sign up but also the likes of Barcelona and Inter Milan. So far it is unclear where his future will lie but at just 17 he has huge potential.

Where will he be in 5 years?: Established England youth player and a move to a big money club.

4. Chris Smalling
Many were surprised by Sir Alex Fergusson’s decision to sign Chris Smalling in 2010 and by the reported price tag of £12 million. As he often does, Sir Alex has once again proved the doubters wrong as Chris Smalling has turned into a fine young central defender.  His confidence and ability are far beyond his years and in recent months delivered a number of highly commendable performances.

Where will he be in 5 years?: With his recent form many expect Chris Smalling to be at Old Trafford for many years to come and eventually replace the ageing Rio Ferdinand.

5. Nile Ranger
Like Chamberlain, Ranger came up through the ranks at Southampton and in many quarters is described as ‘Ranger is the Danger’. The young striker has already made several appearances for Newcastle and is tipped to be the new Alan Shearer.

Where in 5 years?: Nile is expected to mount a serious challenge for a place in the Newcastle team. He is also expected to establish himself in the England youth team.

This is a guest post by Man Utd Soccer Schools. With such talent coming through our youth academies and soccer camps it is clear that we have got better at delivering young fresh talent through our setups. This will help for challenging on the international stage in the future.

Is it this?

Certainly up there. Assault on the ref has to be admired, Di Canio, take a bow. But is that better than assault on a paramedic? Andre Bikey everyone:

I’d argue both pale into comparison with assault on a fan. Look how collected Cantona seems before he launches himself into Matthew Simmonds. Genius.

Assaults on fellow players can still be entertaining – but probably suffer from over-exposure. At least the ones above are rarities. This is my favourite – if at first you don’t succeed, try again. And then again. Until you NAIL him. Nice one Benjamin Massing.

This is another good one from Totti – absolutely nails Ballotelli:

And though not strictly a Red (albeit about 20 people deserved one) this fight is awesome, from Valencia v Inter a couple of years back:

What made this one even better was Jamie Redknapp’s commentary afterwards: “No one likes to see that Richard but look, fist comes round and BOOOOOMMMMM! Perfect punch” Ha.

But this is still my all-time favourite. There’s just one thought in his mind, no doubt, no indecision. He sprints half the length of the pitch to do it, knowing that one thing and one thing only can save Utd’s title chances. Smashing through Rob Lee.

I love his simple ‘I had to do it’ to Becks on the way off, and the sympathetic pat he receives in return. Perhaps the best thing about it is that he probably could have tackled him legitimately after all the ground he made up. But none of that legal tackle bollocks for Ole. SMASH.

Got any good ones? Send them to contact@footballsup.com or post them below…

To be a footballer would be to live the dream – but you do have to make sacrifices. Here are some who have really taken the freedom of retirement to heart – heart disease, that is…

This was prompted by a picture of Neil Shipperly I stumbled across – remember him? Battling striker who played for Chelsea, amongst others? Look at the transformation… (left is now, in case you didn’t realise)

Unfortunately Shipperley has also balded significantly, emphasising the ravages of age (believe me, I know how he feels). He’s not the only one fighting the fat though – not by a long way. It happens to current players as well – remember this slimline, promising 18 year old at Man City?

Yep, that’s the vaguely angelic looking Michael Johnson. Just look at him now…

Again baldness has accentuated his physical decline – but he appears to have aged twenty years in just two. And the greats are not immune either:

Ronaldinho there, showing that losing your hair and your slimline figure can be mutually exclusive. Whereas he’s retained his flowing locks, he’s certainly lost his definition.

A few other footballs who’ve packed on the pounds since quitting (in fairness, who can blame them – a life of restraint and abstinence must have an equal and opposite)…

I don’t think anyone is unaware of Maradona’s physical decline, but there it is in the starkest possible form. Not sure how much restraint and abstinence he employed though.

Mick Quinn was always a bit of a fatty, but now he’s absolutely enormous.

Big Nev is now REALLY Big Nev. And I can only presume that caption refers to his dinner.

Anyone who watched the FA Cup draw will have seen the adipose behemoth Neil Ruddock has become.

Recognise him, second from right?

Yep (assuming you said ‘Jamie Pollock’) – that’s Jamie Pollock. Remember him?

And lastly, our favourite Scandinavin fatty, Thomas Brolin – before…

And now:

We all know the footballers people rightly or wrongly abuse for being fat – Charlie Adam, Andy Reid (perhaps the heaviest centre midfield partnership the Premier League has seen?), Wayne Rooney, and of course ‘Fat’ Frank Lampard – but they have nothing on the above. Where Jan Molby led, others have followed. And I for one, salute them.

Any other obeasts spring to mind? Comment below or drop us a line on contact@footballsup.com.

FIFA have announced their shortlist for the 2010 Puskas award, which is essentially goal of the year (scored between Jan 1st and October 15th).

I can’t be bothered to relink all them all from here, so click through to watch high quality videos of high quality goals.

I think my pick is Altintop (despite it being a worse version of Gareth Bale’s the other week) – the Japanese one is just stupid, such abhorrent defending – and Tshiblalalalalalala is only in there for racial equality.

Chelsea and Man City are both stuttering – and that’s far from where the parallels end. Both sets of fans are unhappy after the weekend. Both clubs have billionaire foreign investors who have poured millions into the club. Both are nouveau-riche – neither has previously been a the forefront of the English game. Rival fans will say both lack history, without the illustrious past of United, Liverpool and Arsenal. And with some justification. Both have Italian managers who have enjoyed success in their homeland with Milanese sides. And now, to pull themselves into even closer alignment, both are developing similar styles of play with similar potential problems.

Both lay foundations in a solid defence and excellent goalkeeper. Although Chelsea showed significant cracks against Sunderland, conceding those three only took them to eight in total, whilst City have conceded just ten in thirteen games. That’s two better than Arsenal and five better than Man Utd, the next two on the list.

This is not only down to the orthodox back five both teams play, but also to the midfield in front of them. Taking this weekend for example, City lined up with De Jong, Yaya Toure and a defensively minded James Milner in front of their backline – and on several occasions the more defensive Barry has been the latter of the trio. Chelsea, meanwhile, used Mikel, Ramires and Zhirkov in front of their admittedly makeshift back four.

What that means, aside from defensive solidity, is a potential lack of thrust up front. This has been particularly pertinent for Man City, who despite the rich array of attacking talent – Tevez, Adebayor, Santa Cruz, Balotelli, Silva, Johnson, Milner, Wright-Phillips (although he is shit) have struggled massively for goals, especially when Tevez is absent.

Chelsea started the season like a train, with Drogba, Malouda and Anelka tearing teams apart – but they have struggled in recent games too, as sides work out how to defend against a front three and static midfield.

It’s like three separate units – defence for defending, midfield for protecting the defence, and then three ‘offensive’ players whose job it is to score all the goals. All well and good, but when they don’t fire, like Drogba suffering from Malaria or Malouda off-colour for Chelsea, and City’s whole forward line yet to take off (Tevez aside) there is a very blunt edge up top.

Unlike Man City, this is not Chelsea’s first choice XI, however. Lampard and Essien, two box to box midfielders, bring far greater cohesion and thrust to the side when they play, and it is no coincidence that the abysmal Sunderland result was whilst both were missing. When both were present, Chelsea were steamrollering all comers.

Will they re-find their form once their two best midfielders are back? We will see. City’s problem is far more acute – they have to find, buy, and integrate those type of players into their misfiring and unhappy squad. Or Mancini has to prove his worth with a mass tactical reshuffle.

Many similarities, the same shortcomings, but two very different solutions.

p.s. Arsenal are going to win the league.

Last week I had the pleasure of watching the second leg of the New York Red Bulls against the San Jose Earthquakes. Some brief observations on soccer v football…

Firstly, the entire experience is far more pleasant. No tattooed thugs shouting and ranting, no fighting, no racist/obscene chanting, and so on. The better atmosphere was part created and part illustrated by the presence of more women (not in a pervy way) and more children (not in a paedophilic way). It was more a spectacle than a tribalistic show of passion, as football has wont to be in the UK.

The ground is divided into several sections, as per usual, but one of them is ‘Supporters’ – this is a specific (and small) area for the vocal, passionate and I assume more thuggish element, but the rest of the ground was relaxed and chilled out for the most part.

There were only small queues for the drink and the food – and they served booze, and you could take it in and drink it at your seat. I mean that alone is enough for me to prefer it. But the fact the fans are ‘trusted’ with that shows how much more respectable they are than their British equivalents.

However, what was gained in convivialness was admittedly lost in the quality of the play. Uniquely in the MLS, some of the players are just-over-the-hill international class footballers – in this game Rafael Marquez, Thierry Henry, and Juan Pablo Angel – whereas some are part-timers on a few hundred dollars a month. Chris Wondolowski, top scorer in the league, also has a part time job as a coach to make ends meet. Which is a little bizarre.

So whilst there was some quality on view, there was some shit as well – particularly at the back. If you’re going to go for a marquee signing it does tend to be an attacker, so the defences are, relatively, poor. Weirdly that doesn’t seem to lead to a proliferation of goals though. Can’t quite explain that.

The American love of stats was on full view – ‘Post Game Season Most Goal Assists’ ‘All time MLS Shut-outs’ ‘All time MLS Shots on Goal’ and so on were beamed on the screens before the game.

The fans seemed no less informed than your average Brit – admittedly in the UK the vocal ones are usually the spastic hooligans who know nothing about the game anyway – but the occasional woop and holler came in about the same level of understanding. They cheered and boo’d at the right times.

It would have been interesting to hear some post match analysis – I doubt it would have been much worse than ‘fuckin’ ‘ell they were fuckin’ shit’ which is the kind of insightful post match reaction you get exiting the County Ground.

Overall, it was an immensely enjoyable experience. San Jose won 3-1, a shock result that gave them a 3-2 aggregate win and passage to the final. Thierry Henry, who was carrying an injury, only played the last ten minutes or so – with no impact – which was the only real downside. It was more an event, a showcase, a spectacle, than the gang warfare that so often constitutes British football.

There were many empty seats in the 25,000 arena which shows that ‘soccer’ still has a long way to go in the US (bearing in mind this was the Eastern Conference Semi-Final featuring the largest city’s only team) – and the away support was minimal – but absolute respect to these San Jose Ultras who made the journey across America:

I happened to read Marcotti in the Times yesterday, he was there too, and contrasted it with his visit to the Red Bulls’ first game – an interesting read, even if he is a fat arrogant cunt. I can’t link it or paste it because of the Times’ stupid paywall. Summary being, American football has come a long way, but still has a long way to go. Which after my visit seems a fair synopsis.

The only worry is that the further it goes, the less enjoyable it will become.

Smoking is cool. Here are some footballers rocking nicotine chic. With a couple of notable exceptions…

Being a bad-ass, of course Man City’s new signing Mario Balotelli smokes. Indoors. With fit women.

Slaven Bilic rocking a Marlboro. Not strictly a player anymore, but still cool.

The first to buck the trend, Ashley Cole having a puff and looking like a saggy-assholed rentboy.

Back to form. Dimitar Berbatov is the epitome of cool. He smokes, cigarette hanging insouciantly from the corner of his mouth.

Retro. Jack Charlton having a toke at Leeds training.

Fabian Barthez loves to reduce his lung capacity and increase his risk of cancer. He looks like he has it anyway, so who gives a fuck. Not Fabian.

Man United’s Federico Macheda showing that teenagers should also smoke.

Wayne Rooney another to let the side down – he just looks like a pasty, ginger chav smoking a Lambert and Butler in a municipal swimming pool. Not cool.

Zidane, one of the finest players of any generation, showing that smoking actually makes you better at football.

Remember kids, smoking is cool. Get on it early, like Macheda, and one day you might end up like Zidane.

Others I’ve tried to find for the rogue’s gallery, having been informed they love a tab, are Johan Cruyff (lending weight to the theory smoking makes you better), Robert Prosinecki, Claus Jensen (another who looks like he has cancer already), Didi Hamann (twenty a day, allegedly), Gianluca Vialli (another cancer victim doppleganger – but considering he smokes forty a day he probably has it), Giuseppe Meazza, Steed Malbranque (I can imagine him having a shady one round the back of the bike sheds, little scrutter), Paul Robinson (fat keeper not fat defender), Roberto di Matteo (who has hilariously started smoking since taking over West Brom), Henrik Larsson, and of course Tugay.

Any images of them – or others – you could send through would be gratefully received – contact@footballsup.com

In January 2010 Mikel Arteta completed five years UK residency, and having been ignored throughout his playing career by the country of his birth (Spain, for the ignoramuses out there) is now eligible to play for England. Just turning 28 Arteta could still enjoy a fruitful England career – and though this (2010) World Cup is too soon, he would only be 32 at the next. He’s not a player who relies on pace, and representing Eng-er-land could be his only chance to appear on the biggest stage.

It’s surprising that he has not been called up by Spain before – but not inexplicable. Players of his ilk – playmakers, silky passers – are relatively abundant in the country. Think Iniesta and Xavi, both similar ages to Arteta, then Fabregas who although younger is also blocking his path. Then you have Xabi Alonso, Diego Capel, Santi Cazorla… so Arteta is well down the queue.

England have no such riches. Players like Arteta are like gold-dust – Carrick is probably the current closest and he is quite different. Beckham isn’t miles off, but the most recent player who can genuinely be compared in styles (a playalike, if you will) is Jamie Redknapp. And what a player he could have been were it not for injury. That starkly illustrates the paucity.

When we have the likes of Shaun Wright-Phillips and Joleon Lescott in the England squad (and SWP indeed in the midfield), a player of the calibre and class of Arteta would walk in. And he would offer the side something different, something creative, something intelligent, something… Spanish.

The bandwagon starts here – Fabio Capello, sign him up.

Arteta has previously said he wouldn’t rule out playing for England (see here) – let’s jump on that. Why more isn’t being made of this I don’t know, but he is game, he is eligible, he is good enough, he would be a fantastic addition to the England squad. A genuine playmaker who can play out wide, in the centre, or off the striker is like manna from heaven. Don’t ignore it Don Fabio.

It had is moments; the opening game, Germany destroying England then Argentina, The 3/4th place play-off, Italy v Slovakia… but by and large the World Cup was disappointing. What is to blame?

• The Ball

Now officially called ‘the much maligned Jabulani’, there was so much plaintive wailing about the offical World Cup ball that there must be some truth in there. No smoke without fire and all that (that’s what all the best legal cases are built on…). I’ve played with one, and it is phenomenally light – difficult to control, and difficult to hit with any combination of pace and accuracy. Only Diego Forlan seemed able to master long range strikes with it, and Tevez’ goal was perhaps the only time it was hit 100% straight and true. That is never a good sign. In the desperate quest to make the games more exciting, contain more goals and attract more viewers Adidas/FIFA seem to have shot themselves in the foot. It was used with some success in the Bundesliga and the J-League prior to the tournament which suggests it’s ok once you get used to it – unfortunately the course of the tournament was not long enough for most sides.

• Vuvuzelas

Absolutely fucking shit. Ruined watching it on TV, ruined it even more inside the stadium (probably). By drowning out the crowd they made the games devoid of atmosphere despite the deafening hoots. Genuinely one of the worst inventions ever.

• Holding Midfielders

The 4-2-3-1 seems to have infected the game, with De Jong and Van Bommel the starkest proponents. Two players in the middle whose sole purpose is to break up play is never going to make for attractive games or a glut of goals. And when they do it by fouling left, right and centre it disrupts the flow to such an extent the game becomes nigh on unwatchable (re: the final…).

• Spain

I appreciate the technique behind what they do, but Spain are actually quite a boring side to watch. They pass sides to death, moving and switching the play but without ever creating more than a handful of clear cut opportunities. They wear their opponents out, wear them down, then when that elusive chance does come they rely on David Villa to stick it away. Spain only scored 7 goals in 6 matches, and only three players scored for them.

• The Punditry

It was just awful. I’ve already reprinted one excellent article from Tom English on just how bad – but ‘Lawro’ plunged it to new depths during the final. Abhorrent.

• Avarice

The prize money on offer was ludicrous – Spain were on £500k per man to win the tournament, and England received nearly £6m for their abject showing. With such enormous sums involved, no wonder tactics were defensive, teams were scared to lose, and as a result football suffered. Germany and Uruguay showed how could it could have been in their playoff game played without fear.

• English Fans

The tubthumping bandwagon that rolls into the country with every major tournament was particularly busy this time. St George’s flags everywhere, bare-shirted, tattooed thugs singing about the IRA, the relentless media exposure, the ridiculous over hyping of a decidedly average England side, the faux-patriotism – I was just glad when England went out. Roll on us not qualifying for Euro 2012.

It just wasn’t an enjoyable tournament. Don’t let the good moments in the later rounds cloud the torpor that was the first round of group matches – we waited four years for this, and it was a massive let-down. But only four years until the next one – and no doubt I will be as excited for that as I was for this.

Love the World Cup.