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ROGER'S GARAGE 2-2-07
Calum Law
My sister's father-in-law has a notorious terror of spending money. Accordingly, his garage acts as a kind of hospice for all manner of white elephants, obsolete tat and outright junk that he nurtures hopes of nursing back to utility. I once, incredulously, picked up a box of nails that were all not merely rusty but extravagantly bent: 'they're alright, just need straightening out a bit.'
The strange object on my sister's floor was almost beyond my powers of description. He'd palmed it off on her because she had a bad back, and it was now seeing service as a toy ('the kids think it's really funny'). It was a kind of leatherette-covered vibrating wedge - from which emerged a sinister-looking control box - and which, since it also heated up, had a lumbar roll which doubled as a kind of exhaust.
Naturally, the leatherette-covered vibrating wedge (what is it? what is it for?) put me in mind of Ray Parlour, and Roger's Garage became a metaphor for the mildewed corners of Gareth's squad. Mendieta would be that case of typewriter ribbons he picked up at auction a few years back ('we told you there was a reason no-one was bidding!') and Maccarone that ruinously-expensive breadmaker that provoked enthusiasm for all of two days before it was bounced down to ever-more-obscure locations.
Being a Boro fan this January has felt like being a character in a Enid Blyton novel - 'And with one bound he was free!' Not only have we kicked our way out of the relegation briar patch but we've shed those crippling back packs that were weighing us down and are heading back home for cakes and ginger beer.
For so many years our unfashionable status combined with our relative affluence has meant that, not only did we invariably end up paying over the odds for players, but our squad was permanently bulked out with superannuated has-beens or over-hyped never-will-bes - all on take-the-piss money.
Now, finally, we have a group of players who by and large merit the wages they pick up. For the first time in God-knows-how-many years, no one's pay slip (with the possible exception of Rochemback) need arouse resentment, and this can only be of benefit to morale.
If Rochemback can be sweet-talked into knuckling down he may give the incumbent midfield the competition it needs, but should he continue to sulk, come summer he too will hit the bricks. The days when the contrary foreign diva could make or break us are over.
That is not to imply criticism; the Ravanelli/Ricketts/Ricardinho-type of comedy-dramas whilst they made us a laughing-stock, also gave us profile - for as the saying goes 'better bad publicity than no publicity'. Though excruciating at the time, these humiliations were, in that impossible-to-avoid cliché, our 'learning curve'.
The curve has brought us to a position where the squad is lean, young and relatively ego-free. Whether the talent coming through the ranks is truly of a high-enough quality to allow us to become the regular European player we all dream of becoming must remain doubtful.
Nonetheless, with our recent run of form it was always unlikely that Gibson would sanction the kind of panicked splurging that lumbered us with (e.g.) Ricketts. Given that a couple of pastings in next two games could see a rapid draining away of the confidence we've built up, this is a calculated gamble. With the sides beneath us all spending, it's foolish to believe we're safe yet.
With a fair wind however Gareth should be scouting around in the summer for talent that is the right side of its athletic peak. It's possible that Jeremie Aliadiere for instance - scintillating against Spurs in the Carling Cup semi-final - may well take a look at our squad and conclude that its youthful promise bears comparison with that of his present employer. He certainly fits the profile of the sort of player we should be looking to recruit.
The three signatures Southgate most needs to acquire however require no legwork at all. For whilst Boro fans have legitimate expectations that new faces will be brought in this summer, the long generous contracts they'll wish to see our long-suffering Chairman offer will be inked with the names Viduka, Porritt and, first and foremost, Woodgate.
Now we've cleared out the garage - we may as well park our Ferrari properly.
Rotters' Marriage
Gibson has proved masterful at shephering the aforementioned fans' expectations, but an example of how increasingly difficult this is likely to become was betrayed by a casual phrase I heard while drowsing through the early business round-up on this morning's Today programme.
A (female) Stock Exchange guru was reluctantly inveigled into discussing the rival takeover bids at Liverpool. Protesting that she had no interest in football, she did confess that for speculators such as her it was 'becoming an exciting sector'.
Ten years ago, when clubs were floating themselves on the Stock Exchange, they were viewed as at best a risky, at worst a reckless proposition. Now, with TV and merchandising income generating serious revenue streams, and many inner-city clubs offering lip-smacking possibilities for real-estate development, aggressive foreign capital is swarming like flies round the proverbial.
Rich though he is, it's difficult to see how a one-man band like Gibson can continue to compete indefinitely. Like it or not, his pattern of ownership is likely to become unsustainable at the top-level of the 'sector'.
Rover Sandwich?
The one signing we did manage to tie up of course was that of Korean forward Lee Dong Gook, who has bravely travelled many thousand miles to be immersed in a strange and alien culture.
When a young fellow is faced with this kind of traumatic upheaval, it is imperative that he begins straightaway to settle in to his new surroundings, and in this type of case the developmental psychologist will often recommend that he be given a pet...
What do you mean gratuitous?! You didn't let me finish....
NOW HAVE YOUR SAY IN THE NEW HOLGATE FORUM
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