Foreign Talent vs Local Talent

Don't we all enjoy being a mob of xenophobic monkeys? From reprisals to those gay keyboard warriors, every local S'porean's favourite topic will forever be something like "is the chenghu right in introducing the foreign talent scheme?" or "was that PRCFT insinuating that S'poreans are actually Ulstermen/women and that the famed Cú Chulainn is for real?"

Foreign Talent vs Local Talent

The problem with England right now is basically the same excuse apologists(?) tend to say when they prefer hiring a foreign talent rather than a local talent. In other words, foreign talent means true blue talent while local talent means fake talent. While I'm sure such localphobics (don't bother looking up on Google. I made this up on my own) are basically the retarded minority, the sad fact with England is that we do not really know the difference between a foreign talent and a local talent when it comes to Engrand and its Three Lions. Or is it Three Pussy Cats?

Plenty has been said on too many chances given to the foreign talents, but how many local English/British talents are recognised as foreign talents in just about any nation beyond the English Channel? Already, it's impossible to recall the last bloke who actually pulled off such a feat.

Okay, that may be a lie since Joey "I have a baton, I have a man" Barton did become a Frank albeit temporarily. Apparently, Didier "Monsieur Bleu" Deschamps doesn't like Anglo-Saxons in the same way S'poreans don't like Sun Xu. So much for the Hundred Years' War.

Before I continue, let me first out a disclaimer...

I don't consider myself a localphobic even though someone once said I look like Sun Xu. Unfortunately for the conspiracy theorists, my surname is Kuok. To compare me with Sun Xu is like saying Sun Ce was actually more intelligent than Guo Jia and that Sima Qian was lying when he said Xiang Yu lost the fight against Liu Bang.

However, I'm no xenophobic as well. After all, I'm pretty sure there have been outstanding local talents attending universities like West Sydney University, University of Newcastle, and Charles Sturt University. Earlier today during work, there's this music fest in my workplace. There's this black lady (not a Tamil, mind you. I can differentiate between a Tamil and a black bloke in the same way everyone can differentiate between President Obama and Prime Minister Modi) who really sang very well. I really like her vocals. Period.

Note: To prove that I'm not whatever-phobic, I decide to tag SGH once I up this on FB.

Add Note: FB banned me from pulling this off. :P

Don't we all love the Brits/English?

After all, Sir Stamford Raffles was a Brit. His BFF William Farquhar was also a Brit. In fact, George Washington and the first white Aussies were also Brits. From that small cluster of islands, we received plenty of Arthurian tales, (heroic) dogs like Cú Chulainn, Fergus mac Róich, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, and Fionn mac Cumhaill, and... well, Mr  Bean and his Black Adder.

Not to mention the fact that Goldmember is somewhat inspired by the Brits as well.

Unfortunately, the massive cultural worth in the UK merely means football as a sport has hit a downward spiral ever since the late Sir Alf Ramsey managed to pull off a feat which Aaron "he's Welsh" Ramsey can only dream of. Closest shot to glory in the last few decades was Euro 96 where Gareth "Gawain or Beaumains?" Southgate was crucified for losing it like Beckham. Whether Southgate will become like his Arthurian namesake or the next Sir Gawain hinges heavily on how the English midfield will work. That plus his man management (note: I never have a problem with his tactical acumen unlike Alan "Captain England" Shearer or David "trolled by the football trolling god" Beckham. Lack of experience in dealing with every ego the size of a Swedish titan is my main concern). Just don't give me credit if the Three Pussy Cats manage to re-evolve into the Three Lions.

The Once and Future Knight

So far (not) so good, any hope of Lonesome George reverting to St George may have been brutally quashed by the FA. Just like the Normans ruling over the Saxons during the era which gave us blokes like Robin Hood, King Richard, and Prince John. While 'tis only natural for critics to call Southgate "just another Athelstane", it must be pointed out that only a full retard would expect a Wilfred of Ivanhoe to be the next England boss. Period. Glenn "smartest bloke in the room" Hoddle would have been such a man if not for the fact(?) that he's a fan of Eat, Pray, Love. No thanks to that BSOD moment of his career, Hoddle can only afford to be Cedric the Saxon. Still, he's most likely the smartest bloke in the room when it comes to coaching. Which now comes to this bloke below.

If even Signor Capello's Roman approach couldn't fix the opposition in the dressing room, what makes us think the likes of Cockney Harry and Big Uncle Sam would be the final solution? The Three Pussy Cats have got nothing to lose, same goes for Lonesome George.

I really enjoy exercising my freedom of expression. Period. I don't know about you, but I noticed Eddie "The Once and Future Knight" Howe way before the likes of Gary "not Neville" Lineker (and just about any pundit in Sky Football) decided to tout him as the real Sir Galahad. If you think I'm releasing the horse behind cannon (i.e. 放马后炮 if you can understand simple Chinese), you're wrong. I still remembered fondly the first time we met Bournemouth. We're still the northeast chumps in the Championship, that was after Simon "not Williams" Grayson left the Cherries. Against a young manager totally unheard of, we're pretty cocksure of three points in the bag. After all, we have Mogga. Big mistake on our part. Against the proven master, the untested upstart proved his mettle. Adopting a 3-5-2 formation hellbent on preventing us from breaching the middle 3rd, Howe taught every pro-FT cynic that not every local talent is a fake talent. Howe is no Catalan, there's no point for Bournemouth to play the ball like Barcelona. He's not from Saltburn-by-the-Sea, you don't expect him to adopt Mogga's cavalier approach. Howe's philosophy not only reveals a shrewd tactician like Edward of Woodstock, it also hints at what England should have been. He proved to the critics that it's possible to fuse blood and thunder with mind and wind. Syrio Forel may be a foreigner in the North, but Arya Stark is not.

A brief look at the key men

Two men stand out from the rest even though football is all about twenty blokes running after the ball and two more blokes standing between the sticks. When Howe decided to sign Jack "Gunner Jack" Wilshere, critics thought he's off his rocker. After all, Howe is a tactical genius and geniuses are known to be barking mad (however, it must be noted that not all madmen are geniuses since ISIS is now mired in trouble at Mosul). In the same manner Calum "pushed into the gas chamber by some German Klopp" Chambers' loan deal has turned out to be a case of "accidental" success, the same goes for Wilshere. In the world of modern football, only two English managers can boast of world class man motivation. Neither of them being international names, Howe happens to be one of them. The other one? Sean "still not a douche" Dyche (last time I checked, Dyche is the only person other than Chris "still a Seagull and not some big fat albatross" Hughton who can bring out the best from Barton sans the worst).

The problem I have with English tabloid media lies in hyping up things which are non-existent. Of course not every hype is fake, but it merely means no hype is real unless proven. 12 years ago, Wayne "more of a Robin than Batman?" Rooney entered the gates of Greece like Ajax the Great. No thanks to the patronising attitude of the tabloid media, Rooney soon(?) became Ajax the Lesser. Same goes for Wilshere, now Ross "his mate doesn't play in NBA" Barkley is also staring at the omnipotent Curse of Gazza. Thankfully, Wilshere made the right choice in choosing the south coast rather than some other teams in London. Say for instance West Ham where you wouldn't know whether the weed is legally imported from the Netherlands. Ironically, that's (sorta) how Wilshere got himself into trouble. At least Ali G never trolled him, so I guess it could have been worse.

The second man in my firing line is Harry "Le Artillerie" Arter. My fellow Boro-thers-in-arms would have recalled with much vitriol on how we conceded a penalty no thanks to him. That was years ago, I've learnt that what goes on in the 90 minutes should remain within that 90 minutes. Even if we're to talk about whether Darius "he's no king" Henderson is technically the equal of Diego "I swear not to fight like Costa" Maradona.

Previously deployed at the right end of the midfield, no one expected Le Artillerie to be deployed at the holding mid area. By right, this is more of Gunner Jack's territory, not some unknown Harry. Yet, this move proved to be another strategic masterstroke from the upstart who have done more than enough to prove himself.

Tactical mechanics

While Junior "Stan the man" Stanislas' undoubted flair may be sorely missed (depending on whether he will be back like Arnie), Bournemouth's attractive counter-attacking football hinges mainly on the spine. More specifically the Arter-Gunner tandem. In the form of Callum "he's no Mr Wilson" Wilson, Howe has a lone striker who can punish us anywhere across the attacking 3rd. With Joshua "not the son of Nun" King providing a viable threat through either cutting inside or burning the touchline, it's only natural for us to imagine Gunner Jack playing the ball anchor. Deployed at hole 9, it means any counter-offensive move will most likely begin high up rather than from the back.

Just behind him, Le Artillerie will either position himself in front or just behind. His pace off the ball is basically the most dangerous weapon in Howe's hand. If Wilshere is to be that ace of spades, then Le Artillerie is that joker of the deck who can wipe the match at death.

My advice to Señor? This may easily be a tough fight for us. After our shocker draw against Les Gooners (I won't call them Les Goners since it's still too early to call the shots), it's only natural for optimism to hit row Z. We can't defend like what we did against the gunners of Les Gooners, the fans will turn on us. Howe will most likely play it high with more than just a few lightning fast counter-punches thrown at us. He has the players to do it, trust me when I say he will. Who gets to play at the attacking width will define the outcome of this match. If we screw this up, I won't be surprised if the local talent down south will take all 3 points from our foreign talent up north. With that being said, I'm pretty sure the likes of William Hill and Ladbrokes would have already closed shop over whether Adama "we signed the correct Traoré" Traoré will start ahead of Cristhian "he's no Arnie" Stuani.

P.S: A real bummer if I say so myself. In  Le Artillerie, Howe has his own Lars Alexandersson. In the form of Gunner Jack, Howe has his own Gun Jack. If only we have someone who looked a little wee bit like Nathan "not some botak Jones" Hartono.


Add P.S: Sorry guys and gals. HTML coding slapped me with a left sided gridlock. Even Blogspot is in awe of Tekken. Bad father threw son over the cliff, son became badass and threw bad father over the cliff, bad father threw badass son over the cliff (again!), turned out that years later a badass grandson appeared.

Final P.S: If there's any typo (and I know it will), I apologise. I'm no guy in red.