Pump The Brakes: A Closer Look at Fulham's Win Against Stoke

No one wants to be That Guy.

Your buddy asks out the girl of his dreams, she says yes, and That Guy chimes in with the who, where, and when of everyone else she's ever slept with.

You get the job of your dreams and That Guy can't help but remind you of the attrition rate and low pay.

You and your wife get pregnant and That Guy takes the opportunity to relay to you the frequency of autism cases in today's newborns. 1 in 100, father of Rainman.

Basically, That Guy pisses on your leg and calls it rain, shits in your hand and calls it a free lunch, and generally shoots a hole in every dream you've tentatively floated to the heavens.

I don't want to be That Guy. Really and truly.

Regular readers of the blog are no strangers to my feelings regarding a one Dimitar Berbatov and his importance to Fulham Football Club. For those less informed, I proffer the following: Dimitar Berbatov is a silky conductor of a game written in a time signature known only to him. His genius is unparalleled. His touch is a whisper in a smoke filled speakeasy. His brilliance is a noble rot appreciated by only the most discerning of palates. His treatment of the game is urbane, arrogant, stubborn, and beautiful in a way that Van Gogh, Poe, and Cobain would applaud between quaffs of absinthe and knowing nods in recognition of another artist's genius. In short, Dimitar Berbatov is a superlative talent in a fallible construct. He's Will Hunting in South Boston. Banksy in Bristol. James Agee in Knoxville, Tennessee.

He's Dimitar Berbatov in West London.

A virtuoso in a garage band. 

I write this a number of hours after Berbatov's genius strike sank Stoke City on the banks of the Thames and consigned Tony Pulis's army of Uruk Hai to a Saturday without points and sent Fulham fans into an ecstasy of plaudits that has yet to die down. All day I've read tweet after tweet and article after article and headline after headline recounting Berbatov's quality in Saturday's match and his primacy to a Fulham squad stuck somewhere in the liminal zone between relegation contenders and Premier League competents. I remain unconvinced.

I recognize that this position is unpopular amongst Fulham fans and respect the points and counter points posited by the Cottagers faithful, but I also cannot quietly acquiesce to the status quo even in the aftermath of a much needed, appreciated, and delicious three points gained.

On Saturday Stoke City began the match at Craven Cottage playing three at the back. Geoff Cameron, Stoke's usual right back, was deployed by Tony Pulis as a reserved striker supporting Peter Crouch while Matthew Etherington and Jonathan Walters were deployed as left and right wing players respectively. I'm no fan of Stoke's traditional style of leg breaking, long ball attrition, but I respect Tony Pulis and his record as a manager and I have to give a begrudging measure of respect to a side that has managed a healthy run in the Premier League despite playing a style of football most fans of the game consider anathema to common decency. Pulis succeeds with what he's been given and maximizes his side's strengths with savvy personnel decisions and tactical nous. For a manager of Pulis's pedigree to run out a side such as the one he deployed on Saturday, he must have thought two things. One: The further back I can push messrs Ruiz and Berbatov the more I limit their effectiveness. Two: Fulham lack the pace and guile to warrant me playing anything but three central defenders across my back line.

As we now know, Pulis's gamble didn't work, but it didn't work in part because Matthew Etherington pulled up lame in the opening salvos of the match and Steven N'Zonzi found himself with a broken nose and a spot in Lee Probert's book midway through the first half. Pulis then had to readjust his formation after he was forced to bring on a Premier League debutante in Brek Shea who, until the second half, looked considerably off the pace and then, after Berbatov's wonder strike, was left chasing the game and threw Cameron Jerome and Kenwyne Jones onto the pitch in an effort to limit the damages.

How many saves was Asmir Begovic forced to make in Saturday's match? Other than Berbatov's game winner and Karagounis's set piece screamer, was there a single strike that significantly troubled the in demand Bosnian?

Stoke are a known quantity. They sit deep, hoof the ball forward, and kick and gouge their way to respectable finishes year after year. After Etherington's departure Saturday, Stoke sat deeper than they probably would have before Etherington left the pitch. Fulham were allowed to ping the ball around in front of the Potters' defense and carry it into the attacking third mostly because Stoke allowed them to do so and were trying to scrap a draw out of an away fixture after they'd lost an attacking player to injury and seen a needed covering player booked for a momentary loss of his wits. Berbatov's goal didn't come from any particular genius in attack, build up play, or pace, but rather from a violent moment of artistry from a gifted but horribly flawed albatross.

Aside from the goal, I would suggest that Fulham's play in the match was somewhat limited to clever passes in the middle third with very little end product. Additionally, the most dangerous moments in the match came courteous initially of a pressing attack made up of makeshift frontrunners and then, after Etherington's departure, of a strong, physical side pressing for an equalizer. What does this narrative look like if Schwarzer doesn't save Walters's penalty or if Crouch finishes the gilt edged chance gifted to him by Senderos?

Fulham have yet to play Chelsea, Spurs, Arsenal, Everton, and Liverpool and six of their remaining eleven fixtures are away from home. Berbatov was able to finish his glorious goal on Saturday in part because Stoke were essentially conceding the pitch to the Cottagers all the way to their own penalty area and N'Zonzi, Shawcross, and Wilson all had found their way into Probert's little black book. I doubt injury and cautions will be so kind to Fulham in the remaining fixtures.

Berbatov is an incredible talent - a Champagne footballer - but all is not yet right with the Cottagers and tougher challenges await. The need for a penetrating striker and/or pacey wingers to stretch a defense remains unaddressed and Martin Jol thus far appears content to roll out a side incapable of producing anything other than a prayed for Berbatov master stroke. 1-0 against a Stoke side depleted through injury and cautions does not safety make.  

Why Fulham Should Be Pressing The Panic Button or Send Up The Bent Signal

If Manchester United fans needed any reminding as to why they weren't terribly sorry to see Dimitar Berbatov go, he certainly did his best to jog their collective memory in Saturday's FA Cup demolition of Fulham. There's nothing I can say about Berbatov that hasn't been said before. On a good day, his game is languid, silky, effortless, delicate, and artful. On a bad day, like Saturday, his game is ponderous, lazy, static, and soporific.

I've watched Berbatov play for years and some of the most sublime goals I've ever seen came about through the moody Bulgarian's masterful touch and incredible vision. There was that 2007 goal for Spurs against Charlton and that moment of ridiculousness to find Cristiano Ronaldo in the six yard box for Manchester United versus West Ham United. Those moments certainly encapsulate Berbatov at his best, but they came against weak opposition when Berbatov was just another incredibly talented player in sides not lacking in creative playmakers. Certainly at Manchester United, where Berbatov was the Premier League's leading goal scorer in the 2010-11 season, he was not the focal point of the team and was surrounded by strong personalities who personified United's trademark industry, pace, and team concept.

When Berbatov signed for Fulham following the departures of Clint Dempsey and Moussa Dembele, Fulham fans, myself included, were optimistic that his class, reunited with Martin Jol, would shine through and inspire the entire team to play a fluid, creative style full of goals and a comfortable campaign in the Premier League. Instead, it seems that the goals have dried up and Fulham are now playing an arguably more static, less dynamic brand of soccer that has seen them steadily slide down the Premier League table and begin an all-too-familiar flirtation with the relegation zone.

Obviously, this can't all be blamed on Berbatov and persistent rumblings of locker room unrest and player conflicts with Martin Jol have continued to plague the Cottagers since Bobby Zamora spectacularly fell from grace last season. However, Berbatov and Jol have made no secret of the fact that this is the Bulgarian's team and his self professed desire to play as the number 10 has arguably been more of a detriment to the side than a help.

They've got the passing part down, but now it's time to panic

Consider Fulham's first match of the season against Norwich prior to both Dembele's departure and Berbatov's arrival. Fulham ran out 5-0 winners. Mladen Petric scored twice, Damien Duff and Alexander Kacaniklic added one a piece, and Steve Sidwell finished one from the spot. With Bryan Ruiz playing in the hole, Fulham looked dynamic and creative making overlapping runs down the flanks and incisive passes in behind the defense. Martin Jol was able to play with one true holding midfielder in Mahamadou Diarra while Moussa Dembele worked tirelessly from box-to-box winning possession and distributing the ball forward to spring the attack. Granted, it was the first match of the season and first matches are always more of a one off than a bellwether, but there was enough industry and young, dynamic talent in the side to suggest that the campaign would be an enjoyable one for Fulham fans.

Fast forward a few weeks. Dembele and Dempsey are gone and now Berbatov is the undisputed focal point of the team. Adding a player with Berbatov's class on the ball should be a value added scenario, but he's hardly a like-for-like switch for either Dempsey or Dembele. Although not blessed with extraordinary pace, Dempsey, as he was often deployed for Fulham, served as a target player who could hold the ball up in transition and in the offensive third of the field and bring others into the attack. He also has a knack for popping up in the box to finish off the scraps and doing the physical work to hammer one in with his head.

The departure of Dembele meant that Jol had to play a central midfield pairing of two dedicated holding players in some combination of Sidwell, Chris Baird, Giorgos Karagounis, and Diarra. Sidwell and Karagounis have done their best to get forward and spring the attack, but they're playing against their nature when they do, and their lack of vision and quality in the pass has caused Fulham to stagnate somewhat when they go forward. Still, with a player like Ruiz playing in the hole between the midfield and a target forward, Fulham have the capability to bridge defense and attack, but it requires a target further up the field to stretch the opponent's defense and create space in which Ruiz can work and an outlet for him to play to once he's able to turn. This is where Berbatov, for all his skill and ability, has killed Fulham going forward.

It strikes me that Ruiz and Berbatov essentially want to play the same role. Consider the FA Cup match against Manchester United on Saturday. Both Ruiz and Berbatov consistently dropped well into Fulham's own half to get the ball from Sidwell, Baird, and later Karagounis. Once they were able to turn, the only passes that were on were square to either Duff or Kacaniklic and more often to Riether or Riise. This allowed Phil Jones, Chris Smalling, Rafael, and Patrice Evra to play well up the pitch to pressure the ball as they did not have to worry about Berbatov or Ruiz running in behind them. Additionally, Duff and Kacaniklic were tasked with helping out Riether and Riise as Evra and Rafael looked to make runs down either flank at every opportunity. As the match wore on, Duff, Kacaniklic, and later Dejagah found it more and more difficult to get forward as the yards they'd run to track Evra and Rafael piled up on their legs. This unsuccessful pattern of play was compounded by the fact that neither Sidwell nor initially Baird are the sorts of players that can run through from deeper positions and, most unforgivably, that Berbatov himself seemed content to pick up the ball, play a square pass, and then stroll languidly behind as the recipient of his pass looked desperately for a forward option to play the ball.
        

Forgive the amateur diagram

When Berbatov did move in the offensive third to collect the ball, he often did so out to the right flank where, at least initially, Riether and Duff were already fairly effective at getting in behind Patrice Evra. In doing so, he killed space and often had to play square or drop the ball back to a teammate allowing Manchester United to keep the play in front of their defense. On the occasions Berbatov was able to find Kacaniklic, Duff, or Riether he seemed content to linger behind the play instead of taking it upon himself to get into United's box to get onto the end of the balls that were inevitably played to no one in particular. Fulham were essentially playing a 4-6-0.

With any other player and many other teams, this would require a relatively simple tactical adjustment, but Martin Jol seems committed to letting Berbatov essentially play however and wherever Berbatov wants. Lest I be accused of Berbatov bashing, let's consider what happened when Hugo Rodallega was introduced to the tie in the second half. I've got a lot of time for the Colombian as he's always struck me as an industrious, no nonsense player with decent speed and the ability to get some goals. He scored ten for Wigan in the 2009-10 season and scoring ten for Wigan in any season is a little like scoring twenty for any other team not named Wigan. 

In the 65th minute of the match, Fulham broke up a Manchester United attack and the ball wound up at Karagounis' feet. He played the ball to Berbatov who was checking back to the center circle. Berbatov went to play a little square flick of the ball to Rodallega who was drifting off the back shoulder of a United defender. Rodallega wanted the ball into space behind the United defense and was unable to recover the ball Berbatov actually played. As play went back toward the Fulham goal, Rodallega could be seen frustratingly gesturing to Berbatov that he wanted the ball into space. Berbatov immediately fired back with his own angry gesticulations that Rodallega should have checked to the ball Berbatov played square. Keep in mind that the match was 3-0 at this point and Rodallega was the furthest player up the pitch. 

With no one playing as a target or running in behind, Manchester United were able to keep Fulham playing across the face of the defense. 

This is where, in spite of my awe at Berbatov's skill and ability, I lose patience a la any Manchester United fan who ever shook his head at Berbatov's style of play. He's never wrong. Ever. 

Berbatov will berate a teammate for not finding him, even in the most difficult circumstances. He'll throw his hands up at missed shots or runs not made, but he doesn't even blush or hold a hand up in apology when he himself screws a ball horribly wide or fails to pick out the run of a teammate in a better position. On a team like Fulham, a team without another transcendent talent or an especially strong personality in the manager's seat, that sort of attitude and constant brow beating is a cancer that permeates the dressing room and the spirit of the team on the pitch. 

This Fulham vintage is arguably more talented than other Fulham sides that have narrowly escaped relegation, but it doesn't have the sort of leadership or infectious personality someone like Danny Murphy or Jimmy Bullard provided. At best, seasoned professionals like Damien Duff, Steve Sidwell, Hugo Rodallega, and Giorgos Karagounis fire back at Berbatov in frustration. At worst, young talents like Kacaniklic play timidly and without the confidence to make things happen lest they incur the wrath of the moody number 9.

From where I sit, Fulham are dangerously close to devolving into a relegation frontrunner. They play Manchester United at the weekend and then still have matches against Chelsea, Tottenham, Arsenal, Everton, and Liverpool. At this point in the season, with the transfer window about to close and dangling only six points clear of the relegation zone, I think they have to buy a striker. Berbatov has made it clear that he wants to play a number 10 role essentially free of any dirty responsibilities. This is frustrating as, even in the United match, he showed that he is capable of harrying a defender into coughing up the ball and doing the high pressure work necessary to win corners and push his team on; he just doesn't do it frequently enough to call it part of his game. Ruiz, on the other hand, is potentially a more industrious player, but he isn't suited to taking on the role of a frontrunner a la Clint Dempsey. 

So who is available? Well, the list isn't long considering Mohammed Al-Fayed only begrudgingly opens his checkbook and Fulham aren't exactly a dream destination for proven goalscorers in their prime. A good season on the Thames is finishing comfortably mid table. A great season is pushing for a Europa League spot and surviving deep into one of the cup competitions. I'd love to see someone speedy and hungry for goals like Luis Suarez or Chicharito don a white jersey, but that isn't going to happen. Given these fact, only two names immediately pop into mind and those belong to Darren Bent and Shane Long. Bent is still only 28, can't get a game with Aston Villa, and is exactly the kind of physical, big bodied striker that Fulham need to establish an attacking target.

Shane Long is the kind of speedy, hard working striker Fulham lack to get in behind defenses and would surely allow Berbatov and/or Ruiz a little more space to operate. As it stands, there is no fast enough threat to scare even the slowest Premier League defenders into playing a little deeper.

Obviously, there are a few issues with either of these choices as Villa are reportedly looking for something in the neighborhood of 20 million pounds to offload Bent, but when a guy like Michu can be signed for under 5 million pounds, there is a limit to what the market will bear. Even still, some bigger clubs are lurking around Christian Benteke and if someone comes in with an offer the Villans can't refuse, Bent could suddenly find himself back in the good graces of Paul Lambert...or whoever potentially replaces him.

Shane Long may also be a tough get as Peter Odemwingie is pushing on in years and has had an inconsistent season thus far. Additionally, Romelu Lukaku is only at West Brom on loan and the Baggies would suddenly find themselves light in the striking department if they let him go.

Having said that, if Jol continues to insist that Berbatov be allowed to play the role for Fulham that he's been playing, he needs to look to buy a viable outlet who can be fielded further up the pitch. Perhaps a lineup with Bent or Long as a target player or frontrunner, respectively; Berbatov sitting in the hole; Duff and Ruiz on either side of midfield; and Sidwell, Baird, Karagounis, and whoever else holding midfield could bring some of the dynamism back to the Cottagers' attack. Kacaniklic/Ruiz/Dejagah could come off the bench as tactics and situations dictated. 

Whether Fulham attempt to remedy their current malaise in the transfer window or on the training ground is anyone's guess, but the side needs strong medicine and fast. Looking at this transfer window, Long and Bent are just two possible suggestions that might seemingly fit Fulham's wage structure and also address a glaring need in their attack. As a Fulham fan, I hope for the best, but my Berbatov jersey is getting awfully difficult to wear.        

Rational Predictions For This Weekend's Premier League Fixtures or Lesson Learned

Last week I said some insane shit. That Dimitar Berbatov may be a vampire - or Daywalker, more accurately - was not one of them. Still, I was pretty close to making some dead on calls and I stand by much of the not-so-insane analysis from many of the other matches. What I won't do again is pick Wigan at Old Trafford no matter how much I love Roberto Martinez. Call me, Roberto!

I'm too sexy for Wigan

On to this week's fixtures!

Southampton v Aston Villa - Christian Benteke and Rickie Lambert in a striker's dual. Not that either will get bags of goals, but whoever is sharper on the day will win this one for his club. Southampton 2-1. 

Chelsea v Stoke - Stoke gave City a run for their bags and bags and bags of money last weekend so they shouldn't sneak up on Chelsea this weekend. On the other hand, Chelsea was in midweek Champion's League action and you never quite know how that's going to affect a team. Plus, they drew with QPR last weekend and that's a little bit like not scoring with a hooker. I'm trying not to over think this one but I want to. Let's go 2-0 Chelsea at The Bridge.

Wigan v Fulham - This is a trap game for Fulham. Everyone loves Dimitar and show zero inclination to chase him to his castle with torches and pitchforks and drive a wooden stake through his undead heart. Wigan just got thrashed by a less-than-classic United side. This is where Wigan pulls a Wigan and runs out 3-1 winners at home...Wait, what's happening to me?! I can't help it! [Head spins around and spews vomit] Aghhhhhhh!!!! I must have ONE insane prediction!! Fulham shake their road woes and trounce Wigan 5-1. Berbatov gets a hat trick. Martin Jol eats a crepe on the sideline. Roberto Martinez calls Owen Hargreaves after the match. 

Phew! I'm back. Sorry about that...

West Brom v Reading - All I can say about this match is, "Meh." 0-0

West Ham v Sunderland - I hate to say it, but so far Steven Fletcher looks to be worth 14 million pounds. Who'd have thunk? If he has shaken off the knock he took in last week's match against Liverpool I look for Sunderland to outclass West Ham in a scrappy affair. 1-0 Sunderland. 

Liverpool v Manchester United - Everyone is expecting Suarez and Evra Handshakegate II. If you watched last week's United match, you won't be surprised if Evra doesn't even get the chance to retaliate for Suarez's handshake snub. Buttner looked class. As for the Hillsborough/Munich Air Disaster chants, there will probably be a minority of pint pickled fans who do or say something stupid; we'll here about it on Monday; and that will be the talking point. During the match, no one, especially those watching on TV, will have any idea anyone has done anything other than support his club.

If I'm a betting man, and I'm not, I don't think there's any way Liverpool go down like a bunch of Young Boys against United at Anfield in such an emotionally charged match. A win here could save Brendan Rodgers' early season blushes. I call 'Pool 2-1. 

Newcastle v Norwich City - Demba Ba is a house on fire. Norwich City is a leftover turkey breast. Newcastle 3-0. 

Tottenham v QPR - I'm still unconvinced by Spurs and I remain even more so now that Lloris, Friedel, and Barthez are in a three way lovers' quarrel. Did Lloris not think to ask, "Hey, you've got three keepers on the roster already. Where, exactly, do I fit in," before he signed on the dotted line? Is he so French that he just assumed he'd slide right in to the first team? I want to start a "USA" chant right now and slow clap Brad Friedel while I watch reruns of the 2002 World Cup and listen to Lynryd Skynryd. 

I think this match winds up much like Tottenham's last match, a misleading score line in an uninspired victory against weaker opponents. Deuce Face to make an appearance (and score a goal). AVB with two days' fashion stubble. Gareth Bale is teased by his teammates to come up with something other than that ridiculous heart symbol should he score a goal. 2-0 Spurs. 

Manchester City v Arsenal - Tasty match, this. Is Arsenal as good as their record? Can City keep a clean sheet? How will the Real Madrid loss have affected the Sky Blues? I can't see this being a low scoring affair...which is probably why it will be. 1-1, honors even.

Holy. Shit.

Well, that happened. And I'm not just talking about the super gay fan art some United supporter has already photoshopped on the internet, although that clearly happened too. Robin Van Persie is on his way to Manchester United. Every United fan in the world right now must feel like every Manchester City fan in the world last year at this time and I'd venture to guess that maybe they're each just a little bit fonder of the Glazers than they were yesterday.

Although the Manchester clubs are clearly in an arms race (feet race?) for the Premier League title this year, I don't quite believe that the league is down to a two team fight. Depending on how Arsene Wenger invests the $44 million dollars he's reportedly getting from the RVP deal, Arsenal could make a  run at some silverware this season. A deal for Fernando Llorente is already rumored to be in the works.

It's going to take me a while to wrap my mind around what exactly this means for the league and United and City and Arsenal, but I do have some initial thoughts.

1. Someone please put Dimitar Berbatov on suicide watch. Seriously. The vampiric Bulgarian is still on the books at United and now even his Capital One Cup starts have been snatched from his cigarette stained hands. Rooney, Chicharito, Welbeck, and Van Persie?! Jesus.

2. Nicklas Bendtner is probably over the moon right now because Nicklas Bendtner is Nicklas Bendtner's biggest fan and Nicklas Bendtner probably thinks this is a great chance for Nicklas Bendtner  to finally take the reins at The Emirates.

3. How do United line up this season? You pay $44 million for a guy, that guy is going to play (unless that guy is Dimitar Berbatov). Does Rooney finally shed his last semblance as a striker and operate in midfield behind a front three? I can't see United playing a 4-3-3 all season, especially without a proven destroyer in the middle of the park. And if Rooney does play a midfield role, where the hell does Kagawa play?

4. Arsene Wenger is either incredibly shrewd and that Llorente deal is going to get done as soon as the ink dries on RVP's sale, or he's essentially ceded this year's title challenge to one of the Manchester clubs and will invest his recently acquired truckloads of cash in talented youth players who most likely speak French. If it's the latter, Arsenal fans are going to have to do some serious self delusion (they're good at this) to convince themselves they're anything but a really, really good feeder team. Why else sell your best player to someone you once called a rival?

5. What must it be like living in Manchester right now if you're not a supporter of either City or United? Fuck. My. Life. This would be like the Red Sox and the Yankees both calling the same city home, both with real life fantasy squads, and both at the beginning of the season when expectations haven't yet been muted by injury or results...but in a city with the population of Austin.

6. Andre Villas-Boas is throwing a hissy fit. He has one recognized striker on the books at the moment. City and United both have multiple strikers better than Jermain Defoe who can't get a game.

7. None of this matters and will go down as one of the biggest gaffs in transfer history if RVP succumbs to the injury bug that has plagued him every year of his career, save for last year, and misses huge chunks of time.

8. Lastly, what happens when City and United play one another for the first time and one of them loses? I think that first match is in early December? Can you imagine? It's Manchester in December. If you've never been to Manchester, it isn't exactly a beautiful, sunny city. Did I mention it's December? You wake up with a massive hangover. Your team, a team you've supported since you were a little boy, has just lost to a team and a group of supporters you hate with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns. Despite spending Scrooge McDuck volumes of cash, you're second best. Did I mention you still live in Manchester? You feel helpless, alone, listless, and defeated. Next week's fixture against Who Gives a Shit FC means nothing to you even if your team wins by twenty goals. You roll out of bed and mutter something to the wife. You find a stale scone in the kitchen and sit at the breakfast table. You chew dispassionately and contemplate your erectile dysfunction as you stare out the window into the dreary, winter sky. You've felt low before, but never this low; never this defeated....aaaaaaaand scene.