Confidence Trick

Scoring goals is an evanescent delight.

Most of the forward player’s playing time must therefore amount to something of a prolonged refractory period, begetting increasing frustration. When those interludes of enforced goal-scoring celibacy begin to stretch to games, and then tens of games, one can understand the impotent striker feeling like he’s gatecrashed a party and neglected to bring a bottle.

Some are suggesting that Bobby Zamora is but a simulacrum of a Premiership striker, based on the observation that his wick has remained un-dipped for too long.

Notwithstanding his non-scoring contributions to Fulham’s game, which are considerable, and which remain vital tenets of the Hodgson philosophy, the goal-scoring section of his CV is certainly beginning to slip apologetically onto the second page.

And he knows it. As he departed the pitch against Portsmouth last week, he looked deflated and in some turmoil. For him to then witness his replacement Erik Nevland, quite literally, ‘score’ at the party he’d just departed, must have rendered the experience even more wretched, despite the team’s ultimate victory.

Critically for the so-called “confidence player”, once the unquestioning belief in one’s own ability is compromised the entire edifice crumbles. The spell is broken, and the player becomes too self-aware, too preoccupied with the cold mechanics of his task. Instinct suffocates through over-analysis. Performance anxiety leading to premature ejection from the game.

He needs confidence to score goals, say some; he needs goals to restore confidence, say others. A relentless Sisyphean cycle. A dog chasing its tail.

Bobby should be thankful therefore to be in the charge of a manager that one would imagine has no truck with such conceits. A man whose credibility is built upon the systematic application of sound methodologies, and the repetition of tried and tested drills.

A man as pragmatic as Hodgson will surely recognise that endeavours such as these are the foundation of Zamora’s ability and that as such it cannot wither overnight, whatever elusive sabotage his mind may perform. Hodgson will know that the professional “by toiling beside the front door of technique…leaves room for genius to enter by the back.”

God Help Us

On a day like today, here are some thoughts that inspire whilst at the same time providing some context.

Don't be embarrassed if you feel a few tears forming, for this encapsulates exactly why, if today is to be Brian's final appearance at Craven Cottage, he will never be forgotten.

Jimmy Bullard Feature

Inspirational, and amusing, piece on Jimmy Bullard in today's Guardian, here.

And reports of a hitch with Marlon King's knee, here.

The Declining Value Of The Number 14

2001-2004	Steed Malbranque
2004-2007	Papa Bouba Diop
2007-?	Shefki Kuqi

Diomansy Kamara: Man of Mystery

The riddle of Diomansy Kamara continues to convolute. Against Blackburn on Sunday he spawned perhaps his most infuriating performance so far.

He has had adequate time to “acclimatise”, to “gel”, and to “find his feet”. What he has failed to thus far, is “click.” At Sunday’s game there was a conspicuous sense of patience running out amongst the Fulham supporters.

He does not appear to be a player lacking in confidence. However, each time he receives the ball, he contrives to charge forward like a lobotomised clockwork toy, suggesting action before thought. He continues on, attempting to introduce himself to as many of the opposing team as possible (the Fulham players on these occasions becoming mysteriously transparent), until he collides with a defender and is brought to his knees. Cue wounded looks in the direction of the referee.

It’s true that on Sunday he covered a lot of ground, at speed, as he chased back when the Fulham attacks broke down: it was endearing, and encouraging to witness. In truth, however, it delivered little reward, and still does not absolve him of his primary responsibility: performing an effective striking role.

Yielding possession by way of a few one-touch return passes to his team-mates would not only render attacks more effective, but would signal a greater sense of integration with his colleagues: something that appears lacking at present. Selfishness in a striker can be a worthy trait when the goal is in sight, but not when he is 50 yards out.

This may seem a rather damning view of a man who scored a goal and earned a penalty, and Sanchez may consider those contributions a good return on 83 minutes of football. However, my disquiet arises not from the disparity between his price and his goals, as it appears to with many, but that between his quite overt ability and his performances.

Perhaps his post-scoring “loco” gesture is more apt than we imagine, but instead of his previous employers, it’s his own psychological mechanisms that require a little tinkering?

Clint Dempsey Feature

Today's edition of The Guardian carries a candid and rather moving feature on Clint Dempsey.

It can be found here.

Please take a look.