Radio DrinkSPORT Go Owen, Go, Gone Stricken to Strip Bare Science Data, To Concur?

Radio DrinkSPORT

Cocktails amiss, wag the tail, dip it in, shaken but not stirred Mr Jordan, 007 shaken (ref article 13.07.21 Observations Galore), the focus on Simon’s strange coloured mix of drink followed with a possible switch of drinks. Simon seemed reluctant to engage with one’s new bottle in hand all labelled up, time for the loo, we can all take the number 1, over to you Simon, microphone in hand. Did Simon get wind of the Manero article, belch, a ruffling of one’s napkin, tune into Radio DrinkSPORT.

Go Owen, Go, Gone

The plaudits were out in force following Michael Owen’s retirement in 2013 at the age of thirty three in a ‘blast from the past’. To the Stoke City supporters, Owen’s last port of call, where many perhaps were not aware that Owen was in the Potteries wearing the red and white stripes, the cameo performances were so rare, so fast, in minutes, clocked at 93 minutes in a total of eight matches in one season, dire stats, the ‘invisible man’ who pocketed a one million signing on fee, the money suitcase with Michael spending the last ten years of his career on the substitute bench since leaving Liverpool where his career was dynamic, but exploded into a whiff of nothing, just the whiff of the green notes sustained one’s career.

The historians like to go back into play back time highlighting Michael’s world stage curtain raiser v Argentina in the 1998 World Cup, Owen moved faster than the ‘Falklands’ wind with his lightening pace and youthful looks with the ‘boy wonder’ dazzling the Argies. With a World class goal, the world knew that England’s next special talent was Owen. The next six years were very special with Owen scoring 118 goals in 216 appearances for Liverpool and logged a career laden 40 goals for England in 89 appearances. In 2004 departed the red for the white of Real Madrid, on the trip of a lifetime to the galaxy of world stars, and played second fiddle to the number 1 striker on the planet, the Brazilian Ronaldo, who with the Bugs Bunny looks gave a retorted bleep of “What’s up Michael”, with Owen becoming disenchanted on the substitute bench. Thirteen goals in thirty six appearances.

In 2005, a leaving of the Madrid was inevitable with the black and white of the Toon, Newcastle United came calling to offer an escape route to colder heights. The Toon trip became a nightmare with the next four seasons being wasted on the bench, with a niggling injury or with a long term injury, was reflected with 71 appearances and 26 goals. The Toon Army became anti-Owen, whose helicopter jaunts from one’s abode in North Wales antagonised the supporters, a season ticket was afforded alongside the directors, a watching brief was Michaels main contribution alongside a sackful of money. The four year contract was run down, to be expected, take what you can and a return to the quieter Welsh pastures to ponder one’s next move.

Any moves in the transfer market for the former ‘wonder boys’ signature were sparce. Not a man of great loyalty, Owen was wined and dined by the blue half, Everton’s David Moyes. The Liverpool supporters were aghast and became even more so when Owen left Moyes to foot the bill and was offered a bigger bottle of bubbly to join Manchester United, a last minute transfer deadline dash to United, signature on the dotted line, Owen’s Liverpool legacy shattered. The Manchester United career ran it’s course on a three year contract with a paltry thirty one appearance, five goals was the tally. Michaels claim to United fame was scoring a winning goal v Manchester City, worth the contract? To calculate in time, estimation, Manero time to reveal that Owen missed two hundred and fifty matches during his career, a total of six seasons spent on one’s sofa, BT Sports handset to hand. How will Michael be remembered, a world class striker who ran his course at Liverpool. On the international front, the goals were delivered to place Michael in the top echelons of English strikers. Entered into the annals of English football to be remembered as the ‘boy wonder’ from the early years, Michael Owen.

Stricken Guardiola

According to the Pep talk, Guardiola, players should go on strike over Covid-19, come Omicron, come too much festive cheer, the football matches, as fair quote for a fair game, perhaps the supporters can go on strike over the missing millions, the obscene players wages, agent’s fees inflated ticket prices and merchandise, four strikes on the get-go, do you concur Pep? That’s the football face, no Arthur Scargill’s to toe the party line. Ring, ring Pep, dial the tone, football needs to keep the turnstiles clicking and the broadcasters happy, not over my body, has to be the case, step aside Pep, strike the deal, game on.

No Ditto on the Data

The seventy two hour data science on the required recovery time for players has the Manero blown apart stamp on, not the case perhaps, a myth? No ditto on the data. The laid out myth buster to follow, first up and a doubt on the seventy two hour theory, into the Foxes’ lair, rabbits amok staring in the headlights as Leicester go down fighting v Manchester City, a five to three loss followed on 48 hours later with the Foxes dismantling the Liver Bird, Liverpool FC one to nil, the two day rest time energised Leicester as opposed to the Merseysiders longer than the 72 hour data science recovery time, an abject performance by Liverpool’s standards, too much rest time perhaps, mince pies and sherry drippings to bloat the Liver Bird, LFC no time to belch Jurgen, just the usual moans and groans.

To further hammer home the confused data, on boxing day, ding, ding, Saint George Groves? But the Saints did go marching on, seconds out with Southampton earning a 3 to 2 victory v Westham United with the Lucozade energy levels continuing to rise on the two day later mark (48 hours) v Tottenham. The Saints went down to ten men on sixty minutes, the final whistle came, a one-to-one score line. The 48 hour v the 72 hour, I much prefer the number 48, more sustainable performance wise.