2013/14 Premier League Preview

I'm late to the party on this one having spent the week chasing down a living, writing for other outlets that have *gasp!* deadlines, and trying desperately to divine what exactly is going to happen in the Premier League this season.

Direct deposit hit the bank on Tuesday.

Cottagers Confidential has its posts.

I have absolutely no idea.

Two out of three ain't bad?

To compound my inability to make sense of all the managerial ins and outs, player comings and goings, and run-of-the-mill transfer window intrigues, I recently finished reading a very good, very thorough book by Chris Anderson and David Sally called The Numbers Game. If you haven't read it, definitely pick it up. It's an engaging read and supports, argues, and distills further some of the arguments presented by Simon Kuper and Stefan Szymanski in Soccernomics. 

It's all regressions and standard deviations and valuations and various other permutations of that mythical language some call "math", but what hit me like a ton of bricks is Anderson and Sally's argument that soccer, even at the highest level, in any given match, is basically 50% chance. They cite something called the Poisson distribution and go on about Prussian horses, all of which is very interesting and informative, but did nothing to re-inflate me after learning that picking a winner in a top flight match is little more than a coin flip. How on earth can anyone pick a champion before any of the 38 matches in a team's season have been played? Before the summer transfer window has closed? Before the winter transfer window has even opened? Before Ryan Shawcross has caused a compound tib/fib fracture of your team's star striker? Before Luis Suarez has bitten someone else, someone who might be playing in another league as we speak because remember that thing I just wrote about the transfer windows and their closing and opening?!

Basically, anyone who predicts with confidence what will happen in the Premier League this season, and anyone who ridicules you for your predictions, is full of shit. That won't stop me from gloating though if I get it right. On to the predictions!

As I've said before, the Premier League is a contest to get into the top four spots and avoid the bottom three. Everything else is just window dressing. You can name your best friends and your worst enemies, but most people you know fall somewhere in between. If you're arguing, for example, whether West Ham will finish 14th or 15th, you're wasting your time. 50% chance is probably the difference between 17th and 5th.

My top four:

1. Chelsea - This is actually a pretty popular pick. Jose Mourinho, the Prodigal Son, has returned to Daddy Roman's loving fold more tempered, savvy, and insightful after years abroad and a little bit of humble pie served up courtesy of Iker Casillas and Sergio Ramos. He's new - but not really - and he's inheriting an expensively assembled side of world class soccer players who seem a good mix of young and old.

"To win Premier League second first time of asking would be...fantastic."

My one concern, were I a Chelsea supporter, is who is chosen to lead the line. In the preseason, Mourinho often opted to use a 4-2-3-1 formation with a lone striker making runs to the corners while Victor Moses, Eden Hazard, Oscar, and Juan Mata cut toward the center of the opposition's defense. The "1" in this system is currently a three way competition between Demba Ba, Fernando Torres, and Romelu Lukaku.

Not being sentimental, I think Mourinho would like to throw Lukaku in feet first, but Torres has cost previous managers their jobs and Abramovich may still be clinging to the illusion that he can squeeze some sort of value out of the ludicrous fee he paid for Torres in 2011.

I have to think Roman has learned his lesson and that Mourinho wouldn't be back unless an understanding had been reached between he and the Chelsea owner. With a dominant central striker; the plethora of attacking talent Chelsea has in midfield; strong holding midfielders; a steely back line; and the helmeted hero in goal, I think Chelsea could be poised to bring the trophy back to Stamford Bridge.

2. Manchester City - One of the other tenets of The Numbers Game is that he who spends wins. Sheikh Mansour has certainly spent and with the arrivals of Stevan Jovetic, Alvaro Negredo, Fernandinho, and Jesus Navas, that trend is clearly continuing apace. I literally cannot fathom having the options Manuel Pellegrini has when writing names on the team sheet and that sort of depth of quality has to produce enough wins for second, doesn't it? Doesn't it?!

Pellegrini is much more low key than Roberto Mancini is and the deflection of attention off the sideline and onto the pitch may actually benefit Manchester City's menagerie of Goldfingers. I put City at second mostly because Pellegrini is new and has admitted he will need to adjust to the Premier League game. Also, I have a visceral reaction to so much expensively assembled talent. Also, also, Human Rights Watch just released a report suggesting that the Sheikh Mansour is using Manchester City's positive brand equity to draw attention away from the human rights abuses his government perpetrates in the United Arab Emirates. So there's that.

3. Manchester United - No one wants to be the guy who follows a legend. You want to be the guy who follows the guy who follows the legend. David Moyes apparently did not get this memo and I can't see anything but a rough season ahead for the Red Devils' new manager.

With the caveat that there are 1 1/4 transfer windows still to go, United have only made one marquee signing in Wilfried Zaha and are, frankly, embarrassing themselves with their continued pursuit of Cesc Fabregas. Moyes appears desperate to sign a creative tux-wearer in midfield and to do so in the sort of flamboyant style that gets the collective Old Trafford heart all aflutter. But his continued failure to do so is raising alarm bells and distracting Moyes from the very real possibility that said creative tux-wearer is already in the side in the form of Shinji Kagawa. C'mon Moyes, act like you've been here before! A little confidence, imperturbability, and je ne sais quoi go a long way.

Additionally, there's the inconvenient fact that Wayne Rooney wants out in the worst way and would seemingly love to find himself in the jersey of one of United's worst rivals. I can't see this situation resolving itself until Rooney has been shown the door. In other words, don't expect much of him in a United jersey at all this campaign. How many of Robin Van Persie's goals came from Rooney directly? Or even indirectly by runs Rooney made to create space? Losing your talisman, even with an heir apparent banging 'em in like it's going out of style, is no small thing.

Anything less than the league trophy is a disappointment for United fans. This isn't the composed we're-taking-Van Persie-from-Arsenal-and-there's-nothing-you-can-do-about-it United of last year's vintage. This is the make-eyes-at-and-get-rejected-by-Fabregas-while-Rooney-throws-a-tantrum-and-Moyes-complains-about-the-fixture-list-because-that's-what-Ferguson-would-have-done-but-it-doesn't-come-off-as-ornery-just-pathetic-because-Moyes-Isn't-Ferguson United.

Jesus, I'm going to have to get used to using the space bar again.

4. Arsenal - I desperately want this to be the year Arsenal finishes outside the top four and everyone finally realizes - and by "everyone" I mean Arsenal supporters - that Arsene Wenger has run his course. However, with the ongoing sagas surrounding Gareth Bale and Luis Suarez and the fact that Arsenal may still pull off one of these huge money deals they finally seem willing to make, I can't quite see them disintegrating and crashing in a glorious puffy coated, referee blaming, pass for passing's sake blaze of glory, although it would be delicious fun to watch. I'd pop popcorn and invite friends over.

Arsenal actually find themselves in arguably the most stable situation of any of the big name sides and there's still the possibility that a game-changing, big money signing may darken the door at the Emirates. Regardless, I see Arsenal going apeshit for 4th once again. God love 'em.

On to the relegation frontrunners!

It seems absurd to list them 18th through 20th because they're all going to wind up in the same place. But so does your food, and I'm not one to mix my beef tenderloin, kale salad, malbec, and chocolate tartufo in a blender and chug it. Let's be civilized, for crying out loud.

18. Hull - I just don't see it happening. Even though Steve Bruce's side have recently signed poor man's Moussa Dembele, Tom Huddelstone and have added the likes of Danny Graham and Maynor Figueroa, I don't think it's going to be enough to keep the Tigers in the Premier League, regardless of whether or not the league eventually relents and allows them to call themselves "The Tigers". Relegated means relegated even if you pronounce it "Tigers". Steve Bruce to be sacked in a panic firing around about the same time Ian Holloway loses his job. And speaking of Ian Holloway...

19. Crystal Palace - Palace rode Wilfried Zaha all the way to the Premier League and they'll ride his absence all the way to the League Championship. In the meantime, Ian Holloway, ladies and gentlemen! Enjoy him while he lasts.

20. Stoke City - As an American, I feel I'm contractually obligated to like Stoke, but as a fan of the Beautiful Game, they make me want to gouge my eyes out Oedipus Rex style.

Mark Hughes: Like this, but instead of gold, imagine poo.

Speaking of mythology, let's talk about Midas's lesser known brother, Mark Hughes. Everything Midas touched turned to gold and he eventually became so miserable, alone, thirsty, and hungry that he begged Dionysus to take the golden touch away. Everything Mark Hughes touches turns into a steaming mound of excrement and he's eventually fired for turning something that was once at least functional into a steaming mound of excrement.

Some would say Stoke City already are that so maybe the Mark Hughes touch will work in reverse. All I've seen so far is a protracted flirtation with Mame Biram Diouf that ended in rejection. Yes, that Mame Biram Diouf.



Dark horse table climber:

Swansea City - Look out for Michael Laudrup's side this season. The Wales club is quietly enjoying an unparalleled succession of managers with essentially the same soccer philosophy and are becoming eponymous with passing, fluid, attractive soccer. Laudrup has enhanced his League Cup winning side with the signings of Jordi Amat, Alejandro Pozuelo, Jonjo Shelvey, and Wilfried Bony. If he can make it through the remaining transfer tomfoolery with Ashley Williams still in all white, Swansea could be in Europe next season.

Dark horse table plunger:  

Until about twenty four hours ago, I had Fulham in this unenviable position. With the signing of Darren Bent and more signings promised (please, please, please make this true). I can't see the Cottagers slipping into a relegation scrap. This leaves me flummoxed and admittedly without a clear answer. If I had to pick, I'd say Norwich because, you know...canaries, but I could also see Cardiff dipping into the bottom three to make it a perfect three for three yoyo act. Or at least a two and Mark Hughes. Could be a good name for a drink?

Breakout Performers:

Kevin Mirallas - The kid was on fire at the end of last season and showed no signs of slowing down in the friendlies leading up to this season. With Roberto Martinez at the helm at Everton, Mirallas could benefit from the sort slick passing and dynamic movement the Spaniard preaches.

Coutinho -  He was very bright last season but was often overshadowed by Luis Suarez's brilliance and Luis Suarez's insanity. He as the technical ability, pace, and creativity to make headlines on Merseyside if he doesn't get too wrapped up in a competition to make the KOP forget about Suarez.

Daniel Sturridge -  See above.

Jozy Altidore - Anyone who's watched the US play recently knows that the kid is playing like a house on fire. He'll be anxious to prove that his time with Hull was the fluke rather than his time with AZ Alkmaar.

There are certainly more, but if you name everyone it's sort of cheating, isn't it? Also, how many words is this now? If you've made it this far, thank you and go buy yourself a beer for which I will pay you back should our paths ever cross.

For now, good night to all and to all a good night! One more sleep until Premier League Day.

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.