The (transfer) window shuts and the fun now starts

Finally, the transfer window slammed itself shut. And with that, the revolving door of deals (and players) going in and out. Somewhere down south, Antonio "Il Bestia" Conte must have been vomiting blood over two nearly-there deals. Everton might have accidentally helped its much hated BFF at Anfield by parking a bus between Ross "not Charles" Barkley and a supposedly dream move down south. As for Fernando "El Trasero" Llorente, it's a case of the player going towards the wrong end of London (in Chelsea speak ofc). Still, it remains to be seen whether Il Bestia will be getting mooned anytime soon.

This meme is proof that irony is the mother of reality in the same way necessity is the mother of invention.
Also, we can see that trolling face behind Conte.

Let's get the best part out of the way first...

Because this part is all about my beloved Boro and I'm pretty sure only 10% of the global football audience will only pay attention. Firstly, I need to get that crazy chimp riding a pogo stick off my back. Namely...

Before anyone jumped to any conclusion, let it be said that nothing came out of the (royal) horse's mouth. Months after the inevitable, Leo "actual Uruguayan, last name sounds like a Serb" Percovich has departed while Jonathan "a gate made of wood, stone, and steel" Woodgate was given a second shot at redemption via the Academy end. Which makes the whole silence... well, I won't call it unsettling, but rather baffling. You're not dealing with some politician of the same name (believe it or not), just some honest bloke still hungry to prove himself. Last time I checked, the assistant head coach spot is still vacant ever since our Welsh Monk's BFF chose that place more famous for academic excellence than football. Last time I checked, His Royal Majesty Gibbo has yet to say a single word. Let alone a complete sentence.

I don't know what's going on, neither do the rest (apart from those involved). I won't be surprised if Boro Steve became ex-Boro Steve. Yet, I do find it weird that it has dragged this long.

It's not as if we're dealing with North Korea.

At the end of the day, it will still be interesting to see who will be our Welsh Monk's no.2. It's starting to feel like Sun Ce waiting for his Zhou Yu.

Note: I realised I got no time to start talking about other teams. Simply put, this post has been officially changed to Boro exclusive. Not that I'm good enough for this unless I'm proven to be a genius strategist (not to be confused with a master tactician). In that case, someone from the club needs to interview me.

Continuing from the above part...

Which means we're still at Boro. In this post, I'll be touching on two areas. Namely, where have we been doing it right (rather than doing it wrong) and whether Jota (not to be confused with the one Nuno "El Spirito" Espírito Santo borrowed from Diego "El Troll" Simeone) would make us rue the day we refused to pay a North Korean ransom for his signature.

Firstly, where have we done right so far? It's very easy for us to press the panic button. After all, Rudy "get in there, Rudy!" Gestede got shot down by a freak injury. At the same time, we're guaranteed a no-show from Martin "the great black Dane" Braithwaite. Quite literally. Our problem right now is that we will be visiting the Emmanuel Macron Stadium without a target man. In fact, the rest of our attacking players are either wingers or strikers below 1.8 metres. I can virtually guarantee our Welsh Monk that Bolton will play it high, physical, and counter-attacking. While this is not to say David "I no longer eat parmo like a local lad" Wheater and his BFFs on the pitch will press us like Barcelona (or Manchester City for that matter), at least it means the Emmanuel Macron Stadium won't be running short of blood and thunder in the middle 3rd. Classic Tony "the Pulveriser" Pulis fare if you're to ask me.

However, this is not to say that we're at a disadvantage. Even though Aitor "El Señor" Karanka has left us, his legacy still lives on. Yet, this isn't a legacy of nightmares and Pennywise the Dancing Clown. It is a legacy of defensive organisation, the very stuff of Teesside steel the Evening Gazette pointed out just days ago. While one can argue the approach is different, there's no denial of the fact that...

1. Most of the deals we've done involved attacking players who are either wingers or forwards.

2. The only notable addition to our backline is Miley Cyrus "not a Persian" Christie.

3. I don't remember any big names from the defensive end going anywhere/somewhere. Not even the likes of Ben "His Royal Highness" Gibson.

While it's hard to discern how much of a Karanka our Welsh Monk has become so far (at least I'm sure it's not THAT much), it must be noted that Karanka emphasised greatly on keeping the ball on the ground when it comes to defending (read: classic mid-tier Spanish football). Unlike Karanka, our Welsh Monk is more of a daring Gwalchmei (pretty sure only the Welsh will understand this word) than a pragmatic amigo. Like Karanka, our Welsh Monk enjoys overseeing football on the ground instead of Anglo-Saxon artillery fired over the English Channel to Macron knows where. In other words, it's not really that surprising. It's all about finding a common ground (said common ground actually has a name, he's called Adam "the Claymore" Clayton). And our Welsh Monk has done so just fine. So far so good, that is 

Secondly, will we rue the day Birmingham paid a North Korean ransom in our stead? Unless proven wrong, I wholeheartedly agree with the bloke who wrote the article arguing why missing out Jota ain't a big money of a deal. When His Royal Majesty Gibbo refused to pay the kind of ransom Pyongyang would demand from neighbouring countries (including China for that matter), do you think he's stupid? I'm pretty sure there are still arguments going about whether Jota would have given us a different edge. After all, he has a playmaker's technical ability and a winger's pace aplenty. Let me kill off this argument once and for all. Like an assistant boss (because the actual boss is our Welsh Monk).

I know the above image is nothing short of an irony. Played against us previously, now officially part of us. Sounds familiar? Well, that's football for all of us (plus the likes of Sol "without a soul according to half of North London" Campbell and Ashley "did Spurs fans manage to make up a song about karma minus Glenn Hoddle?" Cole).

I've seen a bit of his history and it proves either one of two things.

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1. He's a mercenary like Deadpool.

2. He's merely a hungry lad out to prove himself.

Because he's officially one of us, I prefer to play it nice (and honest) by assuming he's a player whose hunger mirrors that of our Welsh Monk. But seriously, we have Pep "seems that every Pep is from Catalonia apart from the one in the SGH retail pharmacy" Clotet to thank. After all, once a BFF, forever a BFF.

Let me first talk about playmakers. Or creative players if you like to call them this way. While they come in different shapes, sizes, and nationality (not to mention ethnicity and sexuality as well), they tend to fall under two main categories.

Below are examples of Cat I playmakers

The Cat I playmakers aren't exactly the preferred English fare. After all, either they don't win enough second balls or they spent too much time on the ball. In the worst case scenario, they ended up winning too many yellow cards and spending too much time on getting the red ones. Yet, it must be stated that the human beings don't just operate with heart alone. Only animals would do that. To be a human being, you need both heart and brains. And that's what the Cat I playmakers are all about: Brains.

So how can you identify such playmakers? Very simple. They tend to start off playing passes from the back. Such players are called deep-lying playmakers for a reason. They are the strategists of any team, the con man in a team of honest blokes doomed to perish without acts of knavery. They are definitely the Robin Hood to the Sherriff of Nottingham, the Jon Snow to that mad cat known as Catelyn Stark (or Tulley since they killed Ned for being honestly dumb). Also, no Dany jokes please.

Below are examples of Cat II playmakers

Apart from Karim "Le Benz" Benzema, every player above is a Cat II. The thing with the word playmaker is that it can be very misleading. Playmakers aren't simply the lazy Euro Johnny dumbing down the gritty Union Jack. Playmakers are defined by their ability to find space and potential chances before opponents have the chance to realise something amiss. This ability is NOT limited by playing style. Likewise, it has got nothing to do with hogging the ball like a Portuguese Narcissus (well, at least Thomas "Der Hattori Hanzō" Müller doesn't do that from my best of understanding). The Cat II type involves a more athletic approach. They won't just sit back and wait for the defence to play the ball to them.

Therefore, they tend to feature prominently in offensive positions anywhere in the firing squad. If we're talking about 4-2-3-1, such players are most likely seen anywhere across the attacking trio behind the lone ranger ahead. However, it has also been proven that a false 9 approach where the so-called attacking midfielder ended up playing the lone vanguard actually works. This was the system which made Lionel "he now looks more like Lionel Clayton" Messi into a global name when Pep "pretty sure he's not Monk's actual BFF" Guardiola took over from Frank "not de Boer" Rijkaard. At the same time, this was the system Joachim "Der Löwe" Löw used to devastating effect during World Cup 2014 (albeit I won't put it past him "plagiarising" Pep in the first place).

After going on a lengthy journey, what am I trying to prove, you might ask. The answer is very simple. When fans were calling for Jota's signature instead of his head, it must be stated that he belongs to the Cat II type. At the same time, however, His Royal Majesty Gibbo was no wheeling-dealing slouch (of course, it must be stated that our Welsh Monk is most likely in full charge of who he wants to sign). Signing Marvin "neither Emnes nor Adam" Johnson was... well, exactly what the fans wanted. Not in terms of the name, but rather in terms of the playing style.

Capable of playing anywhere in the firing third? Yep.

Primarily known as a winger? Who cares?

So hold off your guns and fire, my fellow Boro-thers-in-arms. Ever since the acrimonious manner which Gastón "let's hope he remains as El Bello Bestia instead of some other Gaston" Ramírez left the club, surely the deal can't get any worse. At least I hope so.