Mad genius (?) at work

Well, it's been a very bad Good Friday for us. We couldn't do a single quid against El Spirito and the fans got way less than value for their quids. To rub some salt and vinegar into our wounds, El Spirito got criticised over his stunts. Of course, it could have been worse. Much worse.

Because I'm no Mick "the biggest Mick" McCarthy, I'd rather not speculate whether he's doing it because I said something insane. And speaking of insane, it's a good thing that he didn't go one step too far. Last time I checked, you deserved to be slapped if you're insane enough to ask a señorita what is the meaning of the word "pito". Doesn't matter whether she's Spanish, Catalan, Portuguese, or Singaporean.

Seriously, if you think El Spirito is bad enough, try dealing with Diego "El Lobo" Simeone. Although to be fair, something like this video would have got El Spirito a three-match ban at the very least.

Spoiler: Wolves, Los Che, and Los Rojiblancos all have some sort of Chinese connection in the boardroom.

Before I start the ball rolling, Boro fans please skip this part...

It's official. I'm going to do a Total Recall for my blogs. After I finish this post, I'll be starting a new blog. Doing three blogs has to be the dumbest idea I've ever tried. To be a normal Singaporean, you need to learn how to multitask. The problem is, I'm not normal. Perhaps I was born to be abnormal, but the fact remains that I can't multitask. Comparing my fellow Singaporeans to yours truly is like comparing Tohsaka Tokiomi to Emiya Kiritsugu. Apart from a common identity, there's nothing in common between us. Like how Kiritsugu was a specialist, I'm a single focus guy. Just don't ask me whether such a guy is considered boyfriend material compared to his fellow S'poreans. And no, I'm not gonna entertain questions on who my future Irisviel will be.

At this point in time, it should be clear that whatever insanity I've pulled off was nothing more than an online persona. I don't mind people calling me fake over what I said here. At least I'm honest enough to tell people the truth. Which now comes to this meme below.

This is John L'Otter. John L'Otter is clearly a Deadpool in the making. As a southern otter cursed/blessed with inner Frenchness, John holds a dim view of his fellow otters from the south. This is due to matters ranging from female otters being otter-shamed to the dark-furred otters. Therefore, John L'Otter considers himself an outsider in the same way Jon Snow's dad wasn't a Stark. Just don't ask John whether his future girlfriend will come from Punggol West.

Note: In case you've yet to realise it, John L'Otter is merely the online persona of Kuok Minghui. It's like me saying Emilia "404 Jon and Daario not found" Clarke is not a Targaryen in real life.

Add note: The title of my new blog is tentatively named L'République Otters.

Tactical nudity and a strategic crisis?

It's official. Boro may well be in a strategic crisis amounting to tactical nudity. This has got nothing to do with the third page of a British Sun. For some weird reason, the return of Señor AK-47 doesn't seem that nice. I'll go straight to the point. My creativity is currently sapped and I don't want to waste too much time trying to come up with some pompously French opening statement.

This is what you came for, so get off my plane

This is Jack "will he fire first like Han Solo?" Harrison. Not to be confused with a Swansea Jack or the President of the United States fyi.

Against Burton Albion, we put up a horror show. This was worse than marrying a corpse bride. While Nigel "call my dad Brian" Clough is no Tim Burton, his direct approach rattled us to no end. Let's start with the defensive first.

Against Burton's direct approach, our defensive width was thrown into panic. It's ridiculously criminal. If the #Pulisman was the monarch instead of Queen Elizabeth II, he'd have sentenced half the squad to death. Hanged, drawn, and quartered, no less. He's not going to care about whether the next princess consort is related to the Teesside via Clan Bruce. I saw the starting lineup. 4-3-3 with three holding mids. There's no excuse for this. Having three holding mids could only mean one thing: They should be good enough to snuff out the threat, but each of them ended up marrying a corpse bride instead.

Ultimately, our abysmal showing resulted in the attack being compromised. #Pulisman is all about fortifying the back like a Scottish Bruce. If things go wrong at the back, nothing will go right for Adama "definitely not a Djimi" Traoré. Our lads won't have the composure to play direct balls to him. Why? Because we're constantly disrupted by the opposition. #Pulisman is all about discipline and composure at the back because this is his only way to set Traoré speeding along the highway. We're effectively screwed! We're effectively shafted! Why? Because of the back. Sorry, but I don't see any tactical nudity behind the fact that our defence wasn't good enough to justify a goal. Poor Nigel was wrongfully damned United right at the very death.

Yet, it must be stated that the introduction of Britt "will he rediscover his big bad streak?" Assombalonga and Swansea City Jack changed the game. Not so much as to whether our performance warranted a win since we're definitely luckier than some Toto Tan winning the next Toto lottery (note: Apologies to any fellow S'porean surnamed Tan who enjoys that occasional lottery punt). Rather, it started with a potential what-if.

By the time #Pulisman threw in the last sub, the formation should look like the classic 4-4-2. And guess what? There's nothing sinful about playing 4-4-2 in the same way it's not a sin for Lady Amelia Windsor to enjoy some fish and chips plus a dash of salt and a splash of vinegar. In fact, 4-4-2 may well be the reason why Birmingham is now enjoying some decent semblance of a resurgence under the Welsh Monk himself. Ironically, he (i.e. the Welsh Monk) could have tried doing 4-4-2 before getting sacked by Gibbo.

So how should a 4-4-2 fish and chips work for us?

Harrison's presence would/should have given #Pulisman something to think about. In his current 4-3-3 system, having Patrick "BAM! BAM! BAM!" Bamford as the lone forward is like asking Ryan "not Shawcross" Tunnicliffe to take that poor lad out with a single tackle. #Pulisman should be no stranger to this scenario ever since another Ryan quite literally took out an opposition player. It's not cool getting floored by a tackle. I know because Ryan actually took me down once with a rugby tackle. Although it must be stated that adrenaline was to be blamed for that 2012 moment.

What I'm trying to say is this: 4-3-3 only works if we have a centre-forward with the physique of a green Bruce Banner. Do we have such a player? The answer is yes. Where is he right now? In the FICU (i.e. Footballers' Intensive Care Unit).

Say what you like about Rudy "not Khairon from Singapore" Gestede. His face may look like a donkey, but he's nothing short of a draft horse. I'll be this brutally honest here: #Pulisman doesn't need a stubborn donkey to lead the line. In this sense, Gestede is no donkey. By losing Gestede to injury, we have effectively lost half the battle even before the first whistle from that man in black. No physical presence to hold up the ball, no giant of a man to resist whatever intimidation coming from the opposition backline. The likes of El Spirito and Brain Clough Jr knew it. And they exploited it. Football is a game where the only way to show gratitude to your former club is not to celebrate after scoring. Nothing less because of loyalty. Nothing more because, in Bill Shankly's own words, football is much more serious than a matter of life and death. I don't have to tell anyone whether Señor AK-47 will approach tomorrow's match like a hardened soldier armed with an actual AK-47.

However, all is not lost. While I'll never know whether Lady Amelia Windsor enjoys having the occasional commoner's fare, I'm very sure an effective 4-4-2 can throw in a vital tactical surprise or two.

Let's start off with the bad and ugly: #Pulisman needs to drop one holding mid out of his current 3. Why I'm stating the obvious is very simple: Whether a 4-4-2 parmo football (because we're Middlesbrough after all) works will hinge heavily on what kind of holding mids #Pulisman will deploy. We have two holding mids more comfortable in running around and winning the ball. Namely, Adam "pretty sure Bono ain't his BFF" Clayton and Muhamed "back to the basics" Bešić. Then we have two holding mids capable of playing simple long passes. Namely, Grant "He-Who-Bites-The-Lead" Leadbitter and Jonny "son of a howitzer" Howson. How #Pulisman plays his middle two will impact how the width will operate. Needless to say, the offensive width will, in turn, impact the two strikers up front.

Overloading the back

The reason why opponents know how to deal with the guy arguably faster than Usain "he runs like a lightning" Bolt is down to what the Vickerman wrote below:

[They not only double marked Traore and were quickly in the instant he had the ball - one tackling and one standing off to move for the second ball when he wriggled past - but they also were quick to close Boro midfielders down and cut out possible angles to pick him out. They 'stopped him at source' as Nigel Clough said.]

https://www.gazettelive.co.uk/sport/football/football-news/big-point-no-cause-middlesbrough-14484668

To stop the man at the source, that very same man must first be effectively marked. Only when he's effectively shackled by two men can the other lads nearby be quick enough to close down the rest of the opponent mids. In order to turn the tables effectively, #Pulisman needs to apply pressure on the opposition from one width to the central region. We have Bamford, we have Britt. Together, they can form B2. This is not some cheeky stab at Simon "he cows contestants for a living" Cowell or U2. I'm referring to my confidence in Bamford and Assombalonga when it comes to supporting Traoré. One man may not be enough to pull the opposition backline apart, so how about three instead? Without Gestede, #Pulisman can instead opt for a faster offensive. It's doable, I'm pretty confident in this.

Which now comes to the most important question. I won't call it the million GBP question because the Championship playoff final is so historically lucrative, the only reason why it never got more global airtime is due to its second flight status. Read this carefully and let it sink in: Should it be Downing, the Knight of Pallister Park on the other width or Harrison, the Squire from Manchester?

Spoiler: Downing is effectively another James "VI" Morrison minus the violence and Ronaldo.

P.S: Speaking of Vickerman, I need to mention the source of inspiration.

Final P.S: Dog comment+Irish festival=Is Cú Chulainn secretly a S'porean?

Running man and #Pulisman (plus why 3-5-2 may possibly be the revelation of the season)

Before that, please give me my First Amendment rights to rant+rave

Today, I decided to troll Hong Kong and my fellow Singaporeans. Recently, a lady by the name of Vera Lui exposed her former coach. It's not my position to judge, but I have to point out that one does not simply mistake Vera Lui for Vonnie Lui even though the two goes by the initials VL. To be honest, I don't know what Vera's former coach was watching if he really... well, did it.

Then there's my Singapore. As a Singaporean, it can be very tiring dealing with a pretentious society. If you don't believe a moralistic Singaporean society can be pretentious, let me quote somebody below.
[Anisha believes this culture of silence stems mainly from society’s reluctance to have open and honest conversations about the issue of sexual assault.]

Hopefully, my country and fellow Singaporeans will wake up. After all, I never believe the grass is greener on either side.

I don't profess to be a victim of sexual assault, but I can profess to be a victim of a pretentious society. I don't profess to be a knight for the likes of Lady Vera Lui and the unnamed dame, but still... well, I'm not gonna fake myself.

This is BoJo, not Don T. Any case of a mistaken identity is understandable, though.

It's very gutting if you're to ask me. I don't know how Loh Siang Piow/Loh Chan Pew got his job, but there's nothing wrong with having the right connections so that you can get your dream job. After all, a recommendation or two doesn't mean your boss must hire you, right? But yeah, it helps. And I won't be surprised if Loh Siang Piow got his job via legal recommendations and people speaking up for a... well, good coach.

[郭嘉字奉孝，颍川阳翟人也。嘉少有远量。汉末天下将乱。自弱冠匿名迹，密交结英隽，不与俗接，故时人多莫知，惟识达者奇之。]

[Guo Jia, style-named Feng Xiao, a native of Yangzhai county in Yingchuan. Jia had the gift of foresight since young. Since his coming of age, he lived a life of anonymity while making friends with capable people. Never one to interact with the outside world, this was why very few did not know about him. Only those with wisdom were amazed by him.]

Above historical text was taken from Chen Shou's Record of the Three Kingdoms. Out of Cao Cao's numerous advisors, Guo Jia was the special one. Unlike a certain LCP, Guo Jia never groomed anyone. While he did spend some time in ancient Han dynasty's equivalent of the MND, I believe his post was never something like deputy superintendent of the MND. As for fame, he's definitely no Eden Ang since his fame was effectively non-existent. No fame, no grand job, only sheer talent. That's until someone named Xi Zhicai died in Cao Cao's camp and Guo Jia's future boss needed a replacement. Needless to say, Xi Zhicai was most likely a hundred times more famous than Guo Jia.

At the end of the day, it doesn't matter whether you're Vera Lui, the unnamed athlete, or just a normal girl out to get a legal job. When it comes to the need to get a trustworthy somebody, you're no different from the greatest strategist serving Cao Cao. And when I say somebody, I mean words like coach and employer, not words associated with 14th Feb. I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid.

Note: I may be crazy, but I'm not crazy enough to decide who is guilty and who should go to jail. But crazy enough to make fun of circumstances and a pretentious society? You bet. It's like saying Guo Jia was a disruptive element despite being a military genius.
[初，陈群非嘉不治行检，数廷诉嘉，嘉意自若。]

Add note: To prove that I'm not just about making fun of individuals and the classic Asian society, I decided to make fun of Patrick "Professeur Xavier or Capitaine Picard?" Stewart as well. Play the song below and appreciate the dance.

#Runningman and #Pulisman

Let's be frank here. Who'd have imagined Adama "definitely NOT Djimi" Traoré playing more like himself and much less like another Traoré? Under Señor, his final ball and tactical awareness suck. Under the Welsh Monk, hopes of la grande renaissance were dashed despite a difference in footballing philosophy. When the #Pulisman came along with his gun and baton, all feared the worst. If a Spanish-made AK-47 was unable to cow him, why should even the dumbest muppet alive expect the #Pulisman not to fire his trusty (albeit outdated) Smith & Wesson? Well, here's what every athletic coach's greatest dream has to say about his dream coach:

["#Pulisman’s been a big influence on me since #ThePulisman came in and I want to keep working hard for #Pulisman, not just in an attacking sense but defensively as well. I went to celebrate with #Pulisman to say 'thank you' and that’s what it’s all about.

...Every couple of days #Pulisman’s working with me, telling me how I need to move, with the ball or without the ball, where to be on the pitch. Because I’m listening it’s helping me to get more goals and assists."]

The fish and chips fare coming from us was anything but pretty. It's like what Ian "famous in London" Holloway said:

["To put it in gentleman’s terms if you’ve been out for a night and you’re looking for a young lady and you pull one, some weeks they’re good looking and some weeks they’re not the best. Our performance today would have been not the best looking bird but at least we got her in the taxi. She weren’t the best looking lady we ended up taking home but she was very pleasant and very nice, so thanks very much, let’s have a coffee"]*

*If you think that's offensive, wait till you see what he said about his hamster Ronaldo.

Long balls from the width? Check. Long balls from the centre? Well, we all know 'tis easier to fire the artillery with plenty of space left and right. At least I'm sure Prince Harry Potter knows what I'm talking about since he's got quite a number of mates in the British military.

When it comes to mentality, Traoré is a boy trapped in a man's body. I remember Lionel "still capable of messing up the opposition" Messi stating his approach to football. This was something echoed by Adam "no Jimmy Savile jokes allowed here despite what's 100% factual" Johnson. Then the next thing we realised, below incident happened.

Señor's problem turned out to be the Welsh Monk's problem. We're talking about how to manage a boy. If you can't force puberty out of him, it means you can't force puberty out of him. If you can't rush him into adulthood, don't rush him into adulthood. Perhaps this is the correct way to deal with a man trapped in a boy's body. We all have done stupid things before, that includes Traoré. So long he doesn't end up becoming the next Brock Turner, it means there's a chance for him to learn and improve. After all, it's not as if he did something so terribly dumb, #Pulisman had to do a Brock Lesnar on him.

Let's see things from a tactical perspective. When the long balls come, who benefits the most? When the Hooters waitress serves up the fish and chips, who gets the food? Not the cat, but Traoré. The application is very easy, the equation is no different from 2+2=5. Yet, it must be stated that an effective man-management was the reason why.

It's very easy to say #Pulisman did something to galvanise a player whose future should be dodgier than that of Adam "not Johnson" Forshaw. Forshaw went to Leeds, Traoré ended up shocking us like a human lightning bolt as fast as Usain "the Black Bolt" Bolt. But what went on behind the scenes? How did Traoré become so smart out of the sudden?

Firstly and foremost, the lad is not stupid. You can say a boy is immature, but you cannot say the same boy is stupid. I've seen men behaving like boys, but that doesn't mean they're stupid. Infantile, yes. Outright muppets? Well, it depends on whether you want to talk about their actual IQ or using their conduct to insult their real-life intelligence. I have to give it to Traoré here. He's much more teachable than the average Singaporean racist brat.

Secondly, this was most likely a case of boarding the bus first and pay the fare later. Let's imagine such a scene below.

#Pulisman: Adama, I need you to do something for me.

Traoré: What if I say no?

#Pulisman: What if you end up listening to me?

Traoré: Yeah right. Before you came, I had to listen to two other white guys like you. Chris Hughton should have come here instead of Brighton and Hove.

#Pulisman: I just want to say you're allowed to do what you want on the pitch.

Traoré: Like Messi?

#Pulisman: More like George Best.

Traoré: Cool. Thanks, boss.

#Pulisman: Don't thank me first. I allow you to do what you want, but it means you'll need to write an IOU.

Traoré: No prob! So what does your IOU say?

#Pulisman: Attack first, learn to fall back later.

Traoré: Sounds reasonable to me.

#Pulisman: Good. At least I never sound like a racist to you.

Crisis 3-4-3

Has Antonio "Il Bestia" Conte officially lost it? The footballing equivalent of Tony Stark is hitting a rough patch atm. With no guarantee of Champions League football till the fat lady of Turin sings, surely there are whispers of him going to Cornwall instead of Lyme Regis. If there's anyone who can stem the tide, it'd be this guy below.

Le Chevalier de Londres and El Bestia. Same position, different style. One is the typical Arsenal centre-forward given he's consistent enough, the other the typical Roman centre-forward in the image of his current boss below.

The Álvaro "貰った!!!" Morata backfired horribly. Currently struggling with injury, a lack of cover in the lone striker role means there's no choice but to play through the pain barrier. When Il Bestia signed Le Chevalier, he's effectively signing another 貰った. Not in terms of durability, but rather playing style. It's 100% evident that the focal point for Il Bestia's Roman XI is currently somewhere up there up front. Let's be fair here. Watford was a debacle due to a sudden meltdown. And this was like more than just 30 mins after someone got himself sent off. Against West Brom, Pedro started instead of Willian (note: Willian wasn't that someone who got himself sent off). Then the next thing we realised, 3-0. Yet, the backline looked shaky going by the report. Stopping short of recalling John "I lost my BFF last time around" Terry, what can Il Bestia do? The clue lies in what he did during Euro 2016 where he defied both critics and the odds.

There's nothing much Il Bestia can do right now. His current predicament is reminiscent of Hannibal (not the one made famous by Anthony "I don't always leave people alive. But when I do, it's a pedo" Hopkins). Last season, Hannibal was Rome's worst nightmare. This season, Scipio Africanus does him in. Okay, that's a hyperbole. But still, Il Bestia's current situation seems to mirror that of his fellow Roman from Carthage.

Yet, 3-5-2 may well be the one thing to save himself from ignominy. Two years ago, he did a 3-5-2. At the capital city of a nation which used to be under the Roman rule, his 3-4-3 was effectively an offensive variation of 3-5-2. This season, 3-4-2-1 is to be even more attacking minded. The problem is this: Such a formation would have left plenty of space for the opposition midfield to exploit. Without El Bestia, Il Bestia has effectively lost a defensive plug meant to reinforce the midfield. The loss of Nemanja "not Vidić" Matić to J-Mou only made things worse. One can say Il Bestia has to deal with two defensive gaps. One the size of a Spanish giant with the other the size of a Serbian titan. The former was the first line of defence, the other the main line of defence. Tiémoué "not a 馬鹿" Bakayoko was signed for a reason. To compensate for El Bestia's return back to Spain as El Lobo's prodigal son, what needs to be done?

The reason why 3-5-2 may be the solution lies in the fact that no defensive cover was sought in the forward area. As a result, there's a need to play a 3-4-2-1 in order to pin back the opponent. The weakness behind this approach lies in a break-and-counter approach where the occasional probe can easily expose the heel of Achilles. The moment the 3-5-2 becomes a 3-1-4-2, however, that's where the fun starts. So long the ball can be played from the back 3 plus 1, Il Besta can afford to erect a physical wall to support the attacking 2. It's not exactly the best idea, but Il Bestia will have to make do. At the same time, having strikers like Le Chevalier and 貰った means a certain Eden will be able to run riot with impunity due to a more assist-oriented style of play up front.

Bencic, Der Gegenpress, and the reason behind this odd couple

Last Saturday was frustrating. Rudy "not Khairon of Singapore" Gestede missed like... I don't know how many sitters, to be honest. Then we have two dodgy decisions coming from a rumoured (?) Mackem ref. While I never saw the vid replay of Tomáš "not a Rosický" Kalas upending Martin "the great black Dane" Braithwaite, Fulham's penalty decision was... well, suffice to say, dodgy. If you think I'm being a jerk, be thankful that I don't breath fire like a Scottish dragon. A little wonder why there's a saying "Like father, like sons". Or in MGS speak, "Like Big Boss, like Solid Snake".

From derby match to north vs south. Not to mention me embarrassing the U.K parliament shortly after Fulham entered the back door. Seriously, I really did share the Ctrl+Fail on FB with the intention to educate and embarrass people at the same time.

At this point in time, I no longer want to pursue the issue. Just like how it's ridiculous to use the ref to ignore Gestede missing a sitter or more, it's absolutely absurd to blame Gestede for the ref getting it wrong once or twice. Oh wait, the order should be the other way around. Sorry.

Bencic vs Williams=Liverpool vs Manchester City (Srsly... WTH?)

Yesterday is a song sung by the Beatles. At the same time, yesterday was famous for two reasons. The first would be Belinda "will she be the next Swiss Miss or just another Swiss cheese?" Bencic defeating Venus "she's definitely not from Mars" Williams 6-3 and 7-5. Apart from giving the lads (and ladies) a visual feast of technique versus power, I'm afraid Bencic might have made more than just a few lads gone broke. Not broken-hearted (for whatever crazy reason), but rather truly broke since I'm sure the lads at Ladbrokes would have offered a tasty odd or two.

Like how Bencic did a lads gone broke yesterday, Liverpool did the same #IMPOSSIBRU by edging Manchester City 4-3. But not before going 4-1 up first. So what was the relevance when it comes to two entirely different sports going by two entirely different set of rules? What was the common ground between Bencic's #IMPOSSIBRU and Liverpool's #IMPOSSIBRU since I've hinted this much?

She said, "I played it offensive..."

Well, not word for word, but I guess that's what she means in a tactical sense. In other words, it's a case of "go hard or go home". Not to be confused by the fact that Lady Amelia "not to be confused with Windsor Castle" Windsor is considered a royal party lady, it means you either go hard on the opponent or you can go home. I won't be surprised if a Slavic Bencic actually inspired a German Klopp to victory against whatever odds fixed by the likes of Ladbrokes and William Hill. Or maybe it's actually the other way around. Either way, let us take a look at the team sheet.

Pilfered and pasted from Sky Sports, the most interesting part (apart from the absence of Simon "are we still talking abt mignonne fingers?" Mignolet and Alberto "no more leftback role for him pls" Moreno) lies in the midfield. Yes, I know #TeamRoboKop went 4-1 up before suffering an almighty scare. It's not like winning the second set 7-5 after cruising to a 6-3 first set win, right?

The absence of Jordan "pretty sure my primary school wasn't named after his family" Henderson means #RoboKlopp favouring a more physical middle 3rd. Anglo-Saxon guts-and-glory fare, pure heroism per expected from any Saxon across the sea. Never mind the fact that they're black. They're still heroes. You have Georginio "name sounds like a Brazilian, plays more like Nigel de Jong" Wijnaldum, Emre "YES, HE CAN!!!!" Can, and Alex "Pyongyang got #RocketMan but they have #RocketOx fyi" Oxlade-Chamberlain.

The plan was very simple. It's back to the basics and four by two. Take a look at the team sheet below.

Kevin "Der Bruys" De Bruyne, Fernandinho, and İlkay "Der Gün" Gündoğan... well, not exactly the kind of midfield that would inspire fear from #TeamRoboKop under the stewardship of #RoboKlopp himself. It's like a Catalan duelist going one-on-one against an Anglo-Saxon knight complete with confined space. 'Tis a recipe for disaster where Pep "will he remain bald after this defeat?" Guardiola is concerned. The starting lineup where the middle 3 was an indication that Pep would be forced to look like Clotet instead of Guardiola (no offence intended to the Welsh Monk's BFF considering which division the football team made famous[?] by Aung San Suu Kyi is currently at). Let's connect the dots like a tactician, shall we?

Pep's middle 3 was about playing the ball forward from the back with plenty of space in front. It's never a case of four by two, but rather four by one. This tactic works, but provided space is aplenty between the back 4 and middle 2. The reason why I say middle 2 instead middle 3 lies in Fernandinho most likely playing deeper in order to allow De Bruyne and Gündoğan to roam forward. The former plays like Ryan "not a Shawcross" Giggs while the latter is the flair version of Steven "Stevie Great" Gerrard. Pep's problem?

Purchase a cow and it may only cost you 40 GBP (after converting the price from INR). Sign an Ox and the deal cost Liverpool 40 million GBP instead. So now comes the most damning question: Did Arsène "Le Professeur X" Wenger sell #RoboKlopp an Ox or just a cow worth a measly 40 quids?

If there's anything to go by from Manchester City getting demolished four goals to one before pulling two back, scenes like this below may well be consigned to the annals of history very soon.

Liverpool shocked Manchester City in the only way tactically possible. Either you go hard or you go home, that's most likely #RoboKlopp giving his Saxon ultimatum to an Anglo-Saxon Ox. And went hard #RocketOx did. Much to the dismay of those who should be dismayed. Arsenal is dismayed at eating a humble pie filled with roasted crows. The same goes for critics like the two Jamies from Anfield. Needless to say, Pep was forced to feel like Clotet for all the wrong reasons (or correct reasons if you want to see it tactically).

If Philippe "it may rain in Catalonia, but it truly pours in England" Coutinho is all about footwork and movement, then #RocketOx is all about raw pace and brute force. Perhaps there is indeed potential in the lad. Sadly, the northern end of London is never a fan of bruisers. Just ask the Spurs and Gunners, I dare you. In Liverpool, however, that's where the rules of engagement change. #RoboKlopp is never a sucker for pure flair and 100% guile. While he was Der Klopp overseeing the army of Die Schwarzgelben, the combination of a swashbuckler's flair and a Viking's brutality was for all to see. In fact, J.Mou never had an answer to the Saxon onslaught when Estadio Santiago Bernabéu had to overcome a 4-1 deficit. The game ended 2-0 to Los Vikingos, but the real Vikings still won it 4-3.

Therefore, should it be any wonder that #RocketOx is more comfortable with today playing in Anfield instead of yesterday at the Emirates? I wouldn't be surprised if he indeed made his Anglo-Saxon presence felt in front of City's four by one. And for that, he got a Lee to thank.

Sorry, it's neither Lee Hsien Loong nor Lee Hsien Yang.

It's actually Lee Johnson.

Lesson learnt: Not from either side, but from the other side

If Bencic was truly inspired by Liverpool, then credit must surely go to Bristol City. If Pep is a symbol of the foreign talent scheme, then Johnson is living proof of local talents refusing to go... well, there's a British slang for belly up and I don't want to offend the non-British who enjoy using British language. Foreign talent? So what? Pep? Who cares which Pep? Such was the temerity displayed by a motley XI attempting to outrun, outpass, and outsmart an illustrious XI. Yes, the domestic cup is always the Mickey Mouse deal for teams in the top flight capable of entering Europe nine times out of ten. Does that make Johnson a local muppet? Surely not!

Outran!

Outpassed! Okay, maybe not.

Outsmarted!

The only problem with Bristol City's guts? They still lost the match. But make no mistakes about it. The local Lee made the foreign Pep sweat for his keep. Seeing him reminds me of another local talent. Namely, this bloke.

If England can produce more Johnsons and Howes, the future will look bright. Very bright. And I'm talking about the standards of local football from the Under-16 to the senior team on an international basis.

The key to taking the fight to Manchester City lies in getting the mentality right. There is more than one way to display fighting spirit, but only one way to show cowardice before a giant like Pep. You play it deep like an Irish, you're showing cowardice. Once you display cowardice, that's it. You're dead. The opposition needs to understand the need to be flexible when it comes to understanding psychological warfare. What works for your team may well become a legit case of fatality before the opponent. That's how Manchester City nearly did a Les Invincibles. Cynics and romantics have the local Lee to thank, this I can assure that worthy rival to my beloved Boro.

Go forward, go hard. Otherwise, just go home. Sounds like what Lady Amelia believes in? In reality, this logic is more akin to how the famed strategist Sima Yi managed to quash the Xincheng Rebellion initiated by Meng Da. And that he did by seizing the initiative without seeking prior approval from the emperor (i.e. his boss).

Set up the army in the middle 3rd, pin them back once we got the ball. This was most likely Johnson's instruction to his charges. And charging like a disciplined army under the command of Prince Edward during the Hundred Years' War they did. Like Meng Da who was convinced Sima Yi would seek prior approval due to the protocol enforced, Pep was convinced Bristol City wouldn't have the impudence to play it tough and forward across the middle 3rd. Well, they actually did so. And with impunity, no less.

In a very weird way, the battle was won by Bristol City despite Liverpool dealing the coup de grâce. Johnson did lose the skirmish, but he won the battle in a way beyond his wildest expectations. Take the credit and a bow, local talent. You deserve it.