That vid is funny, but I'm refusing to tempt fate and laugh at Balotelli today because you never know which Balotelli is going to turn up. I'm hoping the "Maniac mentally unhinged loony Clown" version takes the field tonight, and that the "OMFG Goal from nowhere stroke of Godlike Genius" Balotelli stays at home. He's a real footballing Jekyll and Hyde.....scary what he can do when in the mood, though.
Its almost too close to call, really....I'm loathe to make a prediction as it could go either way. Part of me questions the wisdom of continuing to play like we have against Italy with the slow tempo, defensive mindedness and IMO excessive caution. Italians play this way in Serie A week in, week out and they are masters of the art. Its like trying to beat them at their own game, which might not turn out well. I can see Hodgsons logic, as this is not a great England side talent wise.....and there is a case for this approach. Italy of course are dangerous on the counter, too.
But I say F*ck it!
Once more unto the breach! Blood and Thunder, it is the true
Realistically, we are not going to win the tournament....So I'd rather go out in a blaze of glory than a disappointing whimper and sigh. Play to our strengths. Play at 500mph like the Premiership and unleash hell, lol I'd actually start with Carroll and Rooney, and tell them to *ahem* "assert themselves" (within the rules, of course
). Wish we still had Alan Shearer to administer robust, calculated violence, lol.....But Rooney and Carroll can do it too. Scouse and Geordie Aggro FTW. Get some!
Meh, I'm just having a laugh....this is probably why I'm not an International football manager, and Roy Hodgson is.
I don't like the way England is turning into a nation of footballing pussys though.....The Lions must Roar!
That said, I was a Rugby Union player by trade.....So most footballers are essentially pussys IMO, relatively speaking lol.On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'
I don't care if we lose (and this may well be the case), so long as Italy know they have been in a game, and they give their all. Bring it!