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SOUTHGATE THE CONQUEROR 4-9-07
Toby Higgins
Ah, the French. Somehow the world wouldn't quite be the same without their chunky baguettes, their own brand of kissing and their willingness to jack it all in and go on strike at just a moment's notice. But by far their most beautiful quality is, of course, their language.
We, the English, spent 300 years speaking French after a fella called 'Guillaume le Conquérant' (though his Norman friends knew him better as "Billy") sailed over here in 1066 and started running the show. Because of that, over 30,000 'English' words now have a French origin. Ironically, one of them is 'pronunciation'; something not many Boro fans appear to have quite mastered yet.
Next time you are around a group of Boro fans talking the usual pre or post match nonsensical babble, you ask each of them what Boro's new French signing who wears number 11 is called. If anyone manages to say clearly, and without hesitation, "ali-adi-air", the ones who came up with something else need to buy the successful ones a drink, and shake them by the hand.
"Ali-dali-dair" was one I heard a few times on Saturday, "Ali-air" was a frequent one too, but my favourite, and the one that, remarkably, broke out into the form of a song (albeit briefly) was "Ali-dair".
"He's here,
He's there,
He's every fucking where,
Ali-dair."
No, he's really not. I think I'll stick with Jeremie.
After the language, and whether or not you can say his name, Aliadiere is clearly the best thing to come out of France, ever. He was one was of eleven who played with passion, vigour and pace, to not just 'do a job' against a lesser opponent, but mash him into the ground so that even the best jigsaw master in the world wouldn't be able to work out what he'd looked like before.
Bruce's blues were second best for the duration, and were fortunate not to have lost by at least three more goals than the deficit of two that stood come full-time. Had Lee Dong-Christie tapped in at the back post in the dying seconds, Julio Arca's header not been glanced just wide, and Young Luke's Ronaldo-esk shimmy not resulted in his shot being blocked on the line, 5-0 would have been fair and just.
Sitting as I was, as low as row five, gives the game a totally different complexion. To see the midfield trio of George Boateng, Fabulous Rochemback and Arca warming up with such focus and concentration in every pass was amazing. Three internationally recognised players, who only speak broken English as their only means of verbal expression, reading each other's body language, moving together from one routine to the next without as much as a word; just a glance of their experienced eyes. These guys are drilled to the extreme, and sometimes, it's all too easy to forget it.
There is nothing like being able to sit back, knowing that these players are fully prepared to commence in battle, and being able to trust them.
The atmosphere on Saturday was superb. Despite the measly attendance of just under 23,000, those who did show up were thoroughly entertained from the first moment to the last. The North Stand sang proudly, the West Stand clapped politely, and the East Stand held their hands to their eyes to protect themselves from the mid afternoon sun's glare. And every single one of them loved it.
Given the first three home performances of the season, nobody, but nobody, has the excuse that the football is poor and the atmosphere dead. Cheekily watching the goals on YouTube or some other illegal football showing website just won't hold up as an argument anymore; anyone who did that might have seen the goals, but they missed all the best bits.
It's probably fair to say that we won't play like that every game this season; but Christ, if we play half as well again, I'll be more than happy. The ticket prices are probably a little high, particularly when supply and demand appear to be so far out of equilibrium, but if you're a real fan, you'll make a sacrifice to be entertained by the team you love.
You want to spend £40 on Friday night getting pissed and buying a take away? Don't; instead, eat economy beans on toasted economy bread, drink tap water, and buy yourself a ticket in the new Holgate for Saturday. Playing the way we are, you won't regret it.
Prior to kick off, I'll confess to having worries. Boro on a three match unbeaten run at home to a newly promoted side inferior to us in every area on the pitch; it had away win written all over it in big blue letters.
But Boateng, Rochemback and Arca grasped the game instantly, wasting little in possession and with a marked willingness to play positive, purposeful football. Downing ran with menace and skill, while Mido already looks five times the play Yakubu ever was. Alidalidair's speed (the guy is lightning) as well as his unselfish running allowed space of others to roam forward, like Young and Taylor, who crossed for both goals. When was the last time Boro had both full backs attacking with such creative license?
Southgate is slowly but surely making Steve McClaren look very, very amateurish in the way he ran the club. It wasn't, of course, but Southgate has finally stamped his own logo on the players, the fans, and the club as a whole and not a moment too soon.
Same time next week.
UpTheBoro
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