The trouble with being an occasional blogger is that sometimes there’s simply too much going on. Over the past month, every time I’ve started to compose a new post in my head, it’s been superceded by some fresh event that seems worthy of comment before I’ve managed to crystallise my thoughts on the last one.
January 2009 brought big stuff for Watford fans - big, BIG stuff, like, ooh, I don’t know, the departure of the chairman and chief executive, the subsequent revelations (courtesy of the Watford oracle, Oliver Phillips) about what went on while they were in charge, and then the announcement of a new board featuring Graham Taylor. There was small stuff that seemed to deserve comment as well, like Brendan Rodgers’ ludicrous substitutions in the FA Cup tie against Palace, decisions that almost cost us the game. That had me spitting feathers, I can tell you. There was nerve-jangling stuff, like the agonising wait for the transfer window to shut before any important players could be lured away from Vicarage Road. There was even some football played, of gradually increasing quality as the month went on.
So for now, I’m just going to comment on one small story: the departure of Moses Ashikodi, released from his contract without another club to go to. His is a typical enough story: promising young player arrives, plays a couple of games, picks up an injury, recovers, goes out on loan and then leaves again, having barely made a mark on the club. Moses only started one game for the Hornets – the 4-1 win against Stockport in the FA Cup 3rd Round a couple of years ago, in which he scored – yet I was impressed enough by his performance to be hopeful that he’d be an integral part of the first-team squad this season.
The stats from his loan spells at Bradford, Swindon and Hereford since then suggest that was wishful thinking - a return of three goals in two years in the lower divisions doesn’t exactly make a powerful case. Injuries played a part in that, I gather, and who knows what else. I’ve watched enough football to understand that sometimes, talent and athleticism can be undermined by other factors, factors that are covered by words like ‘temperament’ and ‘personality’.
Maybe that was the case with Moses – I don’t know. Either way, he now joins the list of those who gave us the briefest glimpse of their potential while they were at Watford before fading from the scene again. And that always makes me a little sad.
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
Sunday, 4 January 2009
Why do it the hard way?
One thing that really annoyed me at yesterday’s cup tie against Scunthorpe (even more than Jobi McAnuff’s continuing inability to deliver a cross when he has the ball in an attacking position) was something I overheard. “I hope we beat this lot today,” said someone in the row behind me, “and then draw Manchester United in the next round.”
This kind of witless statement really gets my goat. The point of entering a cup competition, surely, is to win it. To do so, you need to beat a series of teams. Therefore it follows that you want the opposition set in front of you to be as beatable as possible, yes? Not Manchester sodding United, who would doubtless field their junior team and wipe the floor with us.
I can just about understand this attitude from players (I heard it repeatedly on Five Live in the post-match interviews with plucky lower- and non-league victors on the way home from yesterday’s match), who recognise that a tie against a ‘glamour’ club is a rare opportunity to put themselves in the shop window. But from fans? I don’t get it.
And before you object that the value of a cup run is somehow proportional to the status of the teams you beat, answer me this: who did Watford beat on their way to the final in 1984? I had to look it up myself, even though I was at most of the ties: Luton, Charlton, Brighton, Birmingham and Plymouth. All decent enough clubs (well, with one notable exception, soon to be non-league no-hopers), but hardly the A list. But who remembers, and who cares? The record books say that we reached the final, and that’s all most of us know, or need to.
So if we get to the final this season by beating Scunthorpe, Leicester, Kettering, Crewe and Hartlepool, I for one won’t be thinking: “Isn’t it a shame we didn’t get to play Chelsea or Arsenal?” Cobblers to that. If Cardiff can get to the final, so can we. Bring it on!
This kind of witless statement really gets my goat. The point of entering a cup competition, surely, is to win it. To do so, you need to beat a series of teams. Therefore it follows that you want the opposition set in front of you to be as beatable as possible, yes? Not Manchester sodding United, who would doubtless field their junior team and wipe the floor with us.
I can just about understand this attitude from players (I heard it repeatedly on Five Live in the post-match interviews with plucky lower- and non-league victors on the way home from yesterday’s match), who recognise that a tie against a ‘glamour’ club is a rare opportunity to put themselves in the shop window. But from fans? I don’t get it.
And before you object that the value of a cup run is somehow proportional to the status of the teams you beat, answer me this: who did Watford beat on their way to the final in 1984? I had to look it up myself, even though I was at most of the ties: Luton, Charlton, Brighton, Birmingham and Plymouth. All decent enough clubs (well, with one notable exception, soon to be non-league no-hopers), but hardly the A list. But who remembers, and who cares? The record books say that we reached the final, and that’s all most of us know, or need to.
So if we get to the final this season by beating Scunthorpe, Leicester, Kettering, Crewe and Hartlepool, I for one won’t be thinking: “Isn’t it a shame we didn’t get to play Chelsea or Arsenal?” Cobblers to that. If Cardiff can get to the final, so can we. Bring it on!
Sunday, 30 November 2008
And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time...
I can’t bring myself to write anything about yesterday’s farrago. I’m just going to keep reminding myself that Brendan Rodgers has been waiting to manage a football club for 15 years, so maybe it’s understandable if he’s behaving like a kid with the key to a sweetshop right now. With a bit of luck he’ll calm down soon.
Instead I’m just going to post the link to a wonderful YouTube video that takes me right back to my teenage years. Enjoy!
Instead I’m just going to post the link to a wonderful YouTube video that takes me right back to my teenage years. Enjoy!
Monday, 3 November 2008
You’ve had your fun
Well, so much for that. Forget everything I’ve written in the past couple of weeks. With Aidy gone, so is the fun – and the hope of greater things for Watford. I’d love to be proved wrong, but common sense says that with money as tight as a gnat’s chuff, our chances of hiring a half-decent manager are on a par with Russell Brand’s chances of taking over Jonathan Ross’s chat show.
Sunday, 26 October 2008
The benefits of amputation
When I drive to Watford games, I always park in the same place: a school playground in Watford Fields. For as long as I’ve been parking there, the bloke who takes the money at the entrance has had something wrong with his left foot. It’s invariably been in bandages or plaster, and sometimes he’s needed a stick to help him walk.
When I arrived yesterday, he didn’t have a stick – he had a wheelchair, and a bandaged stump where the bottom half of his left leg used to be. As I wound down the car window, he greeted me as he always does: “How are you today?”
“Oh, I’m all right,” I replied. (Actually I’ve got a touch of ’flu at the moment, but it didn’t seem appropriate to mention it.) “You don’t look so good, though.”
"No, no – I feel better than I have done for years,” he assured me. “Don’t worry about me. I’m still alive and kicking – well, maybe not kicking,” he added with a smile, nodding down at his stump.
As I was walking up Occupation Road a few minutes later, it occurred to me that this wasn’t such a bad metaphor for what’s happened to Watford in the last few months. The limb that we initially thought was indispensible was the piles of filthy lucre we were promised when we won the play-off final. But as it turned out, it was diseased from the start, riddled with raised expectations and pressure to succeed at all costs. The ultimate result was the creeping ossification that was last season [apologies if I’m muddling my medical terminology here; I’m a writer, not a doctor].
Then, over the summer, came the amputation, as signalled by the sales of Darius Henderson and Danny Shittu and the admission that we needed the money more than we needed decent players. For a few weeks we all fretted and wrung our hands and wondered where all the money had gone.
Then the season began, and what do you know? It’s the most fun we’ve had in years, with entertaining, incident-packed games, a committed squad full of spirit, and a general sense that anything could happen at any time. Unfortunately, you get the feeling that Aidy won’t be happy until we grind out a succession of efficient but dull 1-0 wins, but I doubt he’ll get his wish any time soon.
Of course, this feeling of joyous unpredictability will probably only last until the transfer window opens in January and the asset-strippers move in. I doubt we could survive a second amputation quite so cheerfully. So let’s enjoy it while we can. I know I am.
When I arrived yesterday, he didn’t have a stick – he had a wheelchair, and a bandaged stump where the bottom half of his left leg used to be. As I wound down the car window, he greeted me as he always does: “How are you today?”
“Oh, I’m all right,” I replied. (Actually I’ve got a touch of ’flu at the moment, but it didn’t seem appropriate to mention it.) “You don’t look so good, though.”
"No, no – I feel better than I have done for years,” he assured me. “Don’t worry about me. I’m still alive and kicking – well, maybe not kicking,” he added with a smile, nodding down at his stump.
As I was walking up Occupation Road a few minutes later, it occurred to me that this wasn’t such a bad metaphor for what’s happened to Watford in the last few months. The limb that we initially thought was indispensible was the piles of filthy lucre we were promised when we won the play-off final. But as it turned out, it was diseased from the start, riddled with raised expectations and pressure to succeed at all costs. The ultimate result was the creeping ossification that was last season [apologies if I’m muddling my medical terminology here; I’m a writer, not a doctor].
Then, over the summer, came the amputation, as signalled by the sales of Darius Henderson and Danny Shittu and the admission that we needed the money more than we needed decent players. For a few weeks we all fretted and wrung our hands and wondered where all the money had gone.
Then the season began, and what do you know? It’s the most fun we’ve had in years, with entertaining, incident-packed games, a committed squad full of spirit, and a general sense that anything could happen at any time. Unfortunately, you get the feeling that Aidy won’t be happy until we grind out a succession of efficient but dull 1-0 wins, but I doubt he’ll get his wish any time soon.
Of course, this feeling of joyous unpredictability will probably only last until the transfer window opens in January and the asset-strippers move in. I doubt we could survive a second amputation quite so cheerfully. So let’s enjoy it while we can. I know I am.
Tuesday, 21 October 2008
The pantomime season
That’s surely how we’re going to remember 2008/09 if it goes on the way it’s begun. Bizarre injuries, the goal that wasn’t, Watford conceding ridiculous numbers of penalties, a Watford keeper actually saving a penalty (never mind three in a row), sendings-off, deflected goals, unlikely comebacks – it’s not even November and there’s already been enough incident for two or three seasons.
And I’ll tell you what – it’s a hell of a lot more entertaining than last season. Aidy might be tearing his hair out, but for me at least, Watford matches have become something to look forward to again.
And I’ll tell you what – it’s a hell of a lot more entertaining than last season. Aidy might be tearing his hair out, but for me at least, Watford matches have become something to look forward to again.
Saturday, 30 August 2008
A question of balance
If a footballer is lucky enough to have a full career, they’re probably looking at about 18 years of first-team football, divided into three phases:
Promising – from around 18, when a player is likely to break into the first team, to 23, they’re still developing and learning their trade. But if they haven’t become a first-team regular by 23, they’re probably never going to be one
Prime time – most footballers (apart from goalkeepers, who mature later) are be at their peak between the ages of 24 and 29
Past it – anyone over 30 is liable to be referred to as ‘grandad’ by teammates and fans alike. In fact, modern fitness regimes mean that plenty of players are capable of delivering the goods well into their 30s if they don’t get injured
I’ve always thought that as a manager, you probably want a squad that’s composed of roughly equal numbers from these three categories: a group of eager youngsters to give the team energy; a core of players in their prime who can be relied on to perform week in, week out; and a few wise old heads who can slot in when experience is required.
So how does this year’s Watford squad measure up? Here’s a breakdown by age on the first day of the season (August 9th):
19 – O’Toole, Robinson
20 – Loach, Ainsworth, Bangura
21 – Mariappa, Ashikodi, Avinel
22 – Hoskins, Priskin
23 – Sadler
25 – Doyley, Lee
26 – McAnuff, Williamson, Williams
28 – Bromby, Demerit, Eustace, Harley, Smith
29 – Francis, Rasiak
36 – Poom
I’ve only included players who’ve already appeared in the first team in the league or FA Cup – obviously, if you take into account the likes of Lewis Young, Liam Henderson and Jordan Parkes, all of them regulars in the League Cup squad, the picture becomes even more skewed towards the younger end of the scale.
But even without them, you can see the problem: plenty of raw young talent, a solid bunch of players in their prime – but not a single outfield player over 30, someone Aidy could put on the pitch to shore up a hole or calm down a tricky situation, not to mention using their experience to mentor younger players. I’m thinking of the role played by Chris Powell, for example, when he was at the club.
Then again, it’s good to know that most of the first team are at their professional peak, or should be. And looking at the squad listed by age helps to make sense of Aidy’s transfer policy since the turn of the year, with Bromby, Eustace, Harley and Rasiak all helping to bulk out the experienced end of the squad, and only Sadler and Collins John under 24.
The other thing that becomes painfully obvious is something we already knew: the lack of experience up front. Last year we had King, Henderson, Ellington and Kabba, all of them in the prime of their careers: this year we’ve got Rasiak (currently injured) and then a selection of promising strikers with very little pedigree. A pessimist would wonder where the goals are going to come from: an optimist would say the opportunity is there for one or more of the youngsters to make a name for themselves…
Promising – from around 18, when a player is likely to break into the first team, to 23, they’re still developing and learning their trade. But if they haven’t become a first-team regular by 23, they’re probably never going to be one
Prime time – most footballers (apart from goalkeepers, who mature later) are be at their peak between the ages of 24 and 29
Past it – anyone over 30 is liable to be referred to as ‘grandad’ by teammates and fans alike. In fact, modern fitness regimes mean that plenty of players are capable of delivering the goods well into their 30s if they don’t get injured
I’ve always thought that as a manager, you probably want a squad that’s composed of roughly equal numbers from these three categories: a group of eager youngsters to give the team energy; a core of players in their prime who can be relied on to perform week in, week out; and a few wise old heads who can slot in when experience is required.
So how does this year’s Watford squad measure up? Here’s a breakdown by age on the first day of the season (August 9th):
19 – O’Toole, Robinson
20 – Loach, Ainsworth, Bangura
21 – Mariappa, Ashikodi, Avinel
22 – Hoskins, Priskin
23 – Sadler
25 – Doyley, Lee
26 – McAnuff, Williamson, Williams
28 – Bromby, Demerit, Eustace, Harley, Smith
29 – Francis, Rasiak
36 – Poom
I’ve only included players who’ve already appeared in the first team in the league or FA Cup – obviously, if you take into account the likes of Lewis Young, Liam Henderson and Jordan Parkes, all of them regulars in the League Cup squad, the picture becomes even more skewed towards the younger end of the scale.
But even without them, you can see the problem: plenty of raw young talent, a solid bunch of players in their prime – but not a single outfield player over 30, someone Aidy could put on the pitch to shore up a hole or calm down a tricky situation, not to mention using their experience to mentor younger players. I’m thinking of the role played by Chris Powell, for example, when he was at the club.
Then again, it’s good to know that most of the first team are at their professional peak, or should be. And looking at the squad listed by age helps to make sense of Aidy’s transfer policy since the turn of the year, with Bromby, Eustace, Harley and Rasiak all helping to bulk out the experienced end of the squad, and only Sadler and Collins John under 24.
The other thing that becomes painfully obvious is something we already knew: the lack of experience up front. Last year we had King, Henderson, Ellington and Kabba, all of them in the prime of their careers: this year we’ve got Rasiak (currently injured) and then a selection of promising strikers with very little pedigree. A pessimist would wonder where the goals are going to come from: an optimist would say the opportunity is there for one or more of the youngsters to make a name for themselves…
Wednesday, 13 August 2008
Thank the Lloyd
It was a great relief to return from my summer hols and discover that Lloyd Doyley is not only still at the club, but was first-choice right back for the opening game of the season. What’s more, he was even captain for the League Cup tie last night. You just can’t keep a good man down, and thank god for that.
So I don’t have to worry about choosing a new favourite player this season: Lloyd has held the title for a few years now, and maybe this will be the season when he finally scores that goal.
Hey, we can all dream...
So I don’t have to worry about choosing a new favourite player this season: Lloyd has held the title for a few years now, and maybe this will be the season when he finally scores that goal.
Hey, we can all dream...
Tuesday, 29 July 2008
A few good men
I’m old enough to remember when foreign players were a novelty, and having one in your team was a sign of daring. In 1981, when Graham Taylor signed Dutchman Jan Lohman from Belgian club Sporting Lokeren (which was confusing as well as exciting), it was only three years since the arrival of Ossie Ardiles and Ricky Villa at Spurs had alerted English clubs to the fact that it was actually legal to sign players who weren’t natives of the British Isles.
Still, it’s only in the past decade or so that buying foreign players has become commonplace, at Vicarage Road as elsewhere. And you have to say, Watford managers haven’t generally made the best choices. There have been a few foreign imports who’ve started well and then faded away, either through injury (Ronnie Rosenthal, ‘Bunion’ Ben Iroha), a drop in form (Espen Baardsen, Johann Cavalli) or general lunacy (Xavier Gravelaine). There have been plenty who have been, well, not very good in the first place, such as Johann Gudmundsson, Pierre Issa, Paul Okon, Ramon Vega and my all-time least favourite Watford player, Patrick Blondeau. And there have been far too many who have been all but invisible to all but the most dedicated followers of the reserve team - award yourself a point if you ever saw Lars Melvang, Sietes, Herwig Walker, Adam Griffiths, Adrian Bakalli or Tony Meola in action.
So choosing my all-time favourite foreign Watford players wasn’t actually all that difficult when it came down to it. Here they are, in reverse order. (NB: For the purposes of this list I’ve ignored anyone from the British Isles - sorry, Dominic Foley - and anyone whose international selection was achieved using the Jack Charlton “You like Guinness, you must be Irish” principle – sorry Micah, sorry Marlon):
5) Nordin Wooter (Netherlands, 1999-2002, 70 games, 3 goals)
Look in the dictionary under ‘flattering to deceive’ and you’ll find a picture of Wooter – but by God, it was fun watching him deceive us. For much of his time at Vicarage Road he seemed on the verge of becoming the best winger in the world, handicapped only by a mystifying unwillingness to actually cross the ball or shoot at the goal. Just once, it all came together: a home game against Norwich on a sunny spring day when he picked up the ball around the halfway line, dribbled around the entire Canaries defence (or so it seemed at the time) and thumped the ball into the net with the aplomb of a man who knew he was capable of it all the time. For that goal alone, he makes my top five.
4) Allan Nielsen (Denmark, 2000-03, 113 games, 19 goals)
One of those midfielders you only really appreciate when they’re no longer there (from Les Taylor to Gavin Mahon, Watford has a history of them), Nielsen ran his socks off for Watford during some tough times, providing unparalleled commitment and a handy knack of appearing in the six-yard box in time to get on the end of a cross. But what I really remember is his final game, and the moving farewell the Rookery gave him when Ray Lewington substituted him a few minutes from the end. Not many players get that kind of send-off.
3) Filippo Galli (Italy, 2001-02, 29 games, 1 goal)
Vialli signed a lot of rubbish, but Galli was his one undisputed gem, a central defender of true class and grace, capable of snuffing out an attack and redistributing the ball with the minimum of fuss. Not for him the clumsy foul or the hurried booting of the ball into the back of the stand. Seeing Galli play in the heart of Watford’s defence was like turning up at the pub to watch your local blues band and finding that the guitarist has been replaced by Eric Clapton. In that miserable season, he was one of the few players I truly admired.
2) Richard Johnson (Australia, 1991-2003, 278 games, 22 goals)
It’s the goals I remember most – above all, a last-minute screamer to beat Wolves in a midweek game when GT was in charge of the opposition. Looking at the stats, I’m surprised to find he only scored 22, or around 2 for each season he was at the club. I suppose the fact that those he scored were mostly spectacular long-range efforts that left goalkeepers looking foolish tricks the memory. As for his midfield skills, I don’t have the appreciation of tactics necessary to do justice to them. I only know that his enforced absence due to injury for the majority of that first season in the Premiership was one of the main reasons we went down. If only...
1) Heidar Helguson (Iceland, 2000-2005, 199 games, 64 goals)
What can you say about Heidar? There have been better strikers at Watford - you wouldn’t bet on him in a one-on-one with the keeper, for instance – but few who were more whole-hearted. His heading ability still astounds me when I recall it, the way he could outjump defenders who were a foot taller than him. He never stopped running, never stopped trying, even when he was inexplicably stuck out on the wing by Vialli. I’d take him back in a flash, even now. You want strikers in your team who look like all they want to do is score goals, and that is Heidar Helguson.
Still, it’s only in the past decade or so that buying foreign players has become commonplace, at Vicarage Road as elsewhere. And you have to say, Watford managers haven’t generally made the best choices. There have been a few foreign imports who’ve started well and then faded away, either through injury (Ronnie Rosenthal, ‘Bunion’ Ben Iroha), a drop in form (Espen Baardsen, Johann Cavalli) or general lunacy (Xavier Gravelaine). There have been plenty who have been, well, not very good in the first place, such as Johann Gudmundsson, Pierre Issa, Paul Okon, Ramon Vega and my all-time least favourite Watford player, Patrick Blondeau. And there have been far too many who have been all but invisible to all but the most dedicated followers of the reserve team - award yourself a point if you ever saw Lars Melvang, Sietes, Herwig Walker, Adam Griffiths, Adrian Bakalli or Tony Meola in action.
So choosing my all-time favourite foreign Watford players wasn’t actually all that difficult when it came down to it. Here they are, in reverse order. (NB: For the purposes of this list I’ve ignored anyone from the British Isles - sorry, Dominic Foley - and anyone whose international selection was achieved using the Jack Charlton “You like Guinness, you must be Irish” principle – sorry Micah, sorry Marlon):
5) Nordin Wooter (Netherlands, 1999-2002, 70 games, 3 goals)
Look in the dictionary under ‘flattering to deceive’ and you’ll find a picture of Wooter – but by God, it was fun watching him deceive us. For much of his time at Vicarage Road he seemed on the verge of becoming the best winger in the world, handicapped only by a mystifying unwillingness to actually cross the ball or shoot at the goal. Just once, it all came together: a home game against Norwich on a sunny spring day when he picked up the ball around the halfway line, dribbled around the entire Canaries defence (or so it seemed at the time) and thumped the ball into the net with the aplomb of a man who knew he was capable of it all the time. For that goal alone, he makes my top five.
4) Allan Nielsen (Denmark, 2000-03, 113 games, 19 goals)
One of those midfielders you only really appreciate when they’re no longer there (from Les Taylor to Gavin Mahon, Watford has a history of them), Nielsen ran his socks off for Watford during some tough times, providing unparalleled commitment and a handy knack of appearing in the six-yard box in time to get on the end of a cross. But what I really remember is his final game, and the moving farewell the Rookery gave him when Ray Lewington substituted him a few minutes from the end. Not many players get that kind of send-off.
3) Filippo Galli (Italy, 2001-02, 29 games, 1 goal)
Vialli signed a lot of rubbish, but Galli was his one undisputed gem, a central defender of true class and grace, capable of snuffing out an attack and redistributing the ball with the minimum of fuss. Not for him the clumsy foul or the hurried booting of the ball into the back of the stand. Seeing Galli play in the heart of Watford’s defence was like turning up at the pub to watch your local blues band and finding that the guitarist has been replaced by Eric Clapton. In that miserable season, he was one of the few players I truly admired.
2) Richard Johnson (Australia, 1991-2003, 278 games, 22 goals)
It’s the goals I remember most – above all, a last-minute screamer to beat Wolves in a midweek game when GT was in charge of the opposition. Looking at the stats, I’m surprised to find he only scored 22, or around 2 for each season he was at the club. I suppose the fact that those he scored were mostly spectacular long-range efforts that left goalkeepers looking foolish tricks the memory. As for his midfield skills, I don’t have the appreciation of tactics necessary to do justice to them. I only know that his enforced absence due to injury for the majority of that first season in the Premiership was one of the main reasons we went down. If only...
1) Heidar Helguson (Iceland, 2000-2005, 199 games, 64 goals)
What can you say about Heidar? There have been better strikers at Watford - you wouldn’t bet on him in a one-on-one with the keeper, for instance – but few who were more whole-hearted. His heading ability still astounds me when I recall it, the way he could outjump defenders who were a foot taller than him. He never stopped running, never stopped trying, even when he was inexplicably stuck out on the wing by Vialli. I’d take him back in a flash, even now. You want strikers in your team who look like all they want to do is score goals, and that is Heidar Helguson.
Monday, 14 July 2008
Au revoir to the French connection
As far as I can tell, the sale of Toumani Diagouraga to Hereford a couple of weeks ago puts an end to the much-vaunted ‘French connection’ that saw talented young players plucked from the Parisian suburbs and whisked off to Vicarage Road (or London Colney, at any rate). There were articles in the Watford Observer and on the club website, and a general sense that we’d stolen a march on bigger clubs by scouting players they hadn’t spotted.
But what did it all amount to in the end? Diagouraga, touted a year or two back as ‘the new Vieira’, only managed six first-team appearances – and three of those were in the League Cup. Now he seems to have found his level a couple of divisions lower down the league.
Then there were Marvin Homand and Gauthier Diafutua, neither of whom got within a sniff of the first-team squad, disappearing quietly out of the back door after a season or two in the reserves. A quick Google reveals that Diafutua is now with AFC Tubize, newly promoted to the Belgian 1st Division, while Homand is nowhere to be found.
The exception, of course, is Hameur Bouazza, who we got one half-decent season out of before he decided he was destined for bigger things and buggered off to Fulham. (I noticed the other day that they’re thinking of lending him to Charlton this year - so much for bigger things...)
Maybe the money we got for Hameur paid for the whole operation, and a one in four success rate – however briefly we got to enjoy that success – isn’t so bad. But I can’t help feeling sad that what was talked up as a potential injection of gallic flair into the Hornets squad ended up producing about as much invigoration as a couple of cans of Red Bull.
But what did it all amount to in the end? Diagouraga, touted a year or two back as ‘the new Vieira’, only managed six first-team appearances – and three of those were in the League Cup. Now he seems to have found his level a couple of divisions lower down the league.
Then there were Marvin Homand and Gauthier Diafutua, neither of whom got within a sniff of the first-team squad, disappearing quietly out of the back door after a season or two in the reserves. A quick Google reveals that Diafutua is now with AFC Tubize, newly promoted to the Belgian 1st Division, while Homand is nowhere to be found.
The exception, of course, is Hameur Bouazza, who we got one half-decent season out of before he decided he was destined for bigger things and buggered off to Fulham. (I noticed the other day that they’re thinking of lending him to Charlton this year - so much for bigger things...)
Maybe the money we got for Hameur paid for the whole operation, and a one in four success rate – however briefly we got to enjoy that success – isn’t so bad. But I can’t help feeling sad that what was talked up as a potential injection of gallic flair into the Hornets squad ended up producing about as much invigoration as a couple of cans of Red Bull.
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