Source: Daily Mirror
By James McMahon
Another weekend, another set of Trophy Room awards for MirrorFootball to dish out. Will your favourite player win anything? Will your favourite team come good? Will Newcastle United striker Andy Carroll ever wash his horrible, greasy hair? (There’s no award for that, it’s just a general enquiry). Let’s find out shall we...
The Feelgood Hit of the Weekend Award goes to… FC United
FC United’s first round FA Cup tie against Rochdale at Spotdale Stadium was played in fog so thick you half expected Jack the Ripper to turn up at some point and disembowel the ref. It was fairytale stuff for the team formed in rebellion of Old Trafford’s current owners, the non-league side winning the game 3-2 with a controversial goal in the final few minutes.
Hmmm, maybe they’re not that dissimilar to Man United after all...
The Theo the Wyvern Award for Mucking About with Pitch Sprinklers goes to … David Sullivan and David Gold (maybe)
Last week I told you about Leyton Orient’s mischievous mascot Theo the Wyvern and how he ran onto the pitch sometime during the pre-match cheerleader performance last Saturday and turned the Brisbane Road pitch sprinklers on – with moderately hilarious consequences.
Watching the sprinklers come on midway through the game between Birmingham and West Ham this weekend made me think of three things. 1) Where’s Theo? 2) Um, what’s a Wyvern anyway? 3) Is this a ploy by the visiting West Ham chairmen to scupper the play of their old club, and if so, have they also installed land mines inside the six-yard box or employed a sniper to track Lee Bowyer?
Next week: Theo The Wyvern inspires Paul Scholes to build a moat around Old Trafford and put crocodiles in it.
The It’s Only A Game Award goes to … Tony Mowbray
There are many awards I could present to Tony Mowbray. ‘Most jowly’. ‘Looking most likely to punch his assistant manager at all times’. ‘The special achievement award for talking to the press after games and sounding like he’s gargling coal’. But this very special award is being given for the new Middlesbrough manager’s bizarre (and it must be said) extremely melodramatic response to his side conceding their goal against Crystal Palace.
No manager enjoys watching their team concede a goal, but upon watching Palace’s Pablo Counago poke the London side in front, Mowbray’s response was to sink into the bowels of his bench, fashion his fist into the shape of a gun and simulate blowing his brains out.
It made me wonder how the ex-Celtic manager responds to other acts of bad fortune. Does he drag his finger across his throat upon receiving a parking ticket? Maybe he simulates a brain hemorrhage when learning his son hasn’t finished his homework? Probably not. But maybe.
The Fabrizio Ravanelli Silver Fox Award goes to … Cardiff City defender Kevin McNaughton
Dude, you’re a professional footballer. You earn more money in one breath than I do in an entire year. Can you really not afford a tub of Just For Men?
The Kevin Keegan ‘I’m An Emotional Manager’ Award goes to … Mick McCarthy and Steve Bruce
Two managers, two differing emotions: one award (but don’t worry, we’re going to cut it in half and send them a piece each), yet in a world that hasn’t seen Sam Allardyce smile since 1995 (incidentally the same year the Deep-fried Mars Bar was invented), something to celebrate surely?
McCarthy underwent a rollercoaster ride of emotion on Saturday, as his team fell to the curse of Manchester United and their ability to seemingly conjure up (read: bully the ref into giving) however many more minutes they need until they score the goals to win.
At 1-1 McCarthy was so emotionally involved he was punching the air whenever his players won sliding tackles. At 2-1 he looked like a man who’d just been informed there was a bomb in his pants.
Then there was Steve Bruce, who celebrated Sunderland’s 2-0 victory against Stoke by pegging it down the touchline like a comprehensive school dinner lady being chased by Jamie Oliver, and giving any members of his team he could get his sausage fingers on a big meaty hug.
On the other hand, over in Leicester, Sven-Goran Eriksson celebrated his team’s victory over Preston by clapping, politely. Then going home for a doze.
The God Help Us if There’s A War Award goes to … Manchester City
Last week I had a bit of a pop at Manchester City striker Mario Balotelli for wearing gloves, sporting a crap Mohican and making a full debut proper that was as incendiary as Songs Of Praise with the sound turned down. This week he put two past West Brom and got sent off for kicking Youssuf Mulumbu in the testicles. So at least someone is reading this column, eh?
However, Balotelli’s fear of winter seems to be catching on at City. Yesterday five of the team also turned out wearing gloves. Carlos Tevez went one step further and wore a scarf. Next week: Gareth Barry wears a balaclava and cries when Kolo Toure suggests going sledging.
The Sir Bobby Robson Award for Being a Bloody Good Bloke in Football Award goes to ... Tipton Town assistant manager Scott Voice
Despite once managing to win the Premier League with Doncaster Rovers on Football Manager 2010, I’m humble enough to admit that (over in that place called real life) I would make a rubbish football manager.
Much of this is to do with the fact that, should my team ever lose 6-0 in an FA Cup tie to Carlisle United, I’d most likely resemble Michael Douglas in the movie Falling Down and/or Ryan Shawcross. Tipton Town assistant manager Scott Voice on the other hand told an ITV reporter that he’d had a “fantastic day out”, even celebrating the fact his Baker-Joiner Midland Football Alliance team managed to win a (sole) corner at one juncture with the glee of a small boy discovering a pornographic magazine in a bush.
I should say that I went to bed last night dreaming of flying kites and building dens with my new potential best friend Scott Voice. I’m on Facebook Scott, look me up…
The Being John Malkovich Award goes to … Brad Friedel and Andrew Johnson
It’s Saturday afternoon. The Fulham striker is one-on-one with the Aston Villa keeper. Will he score? I don’t know. All I can think is Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich...