Postcard from the Premier League – A Preview (Part 1)

So, erm, well yes … Blackpool in the Premier League.

Doesn’t really quite go does it? Surely, a mistake as the BBC believed or the bastard product of some heavily edited career on Champ Manager. But no …

Did That Just Happen?

What happened at Wembley in May has created, quite simply, a disconnect from reality.

The Blackpool I remember was characterised by scratching sheds and latterly a half developed ground that incorporated a car park at one end and a rickety, uncovered golf stand. On the pitch there were the perennial 4-0 and 5-0 stuffings by York City, primeval fear of the likes of Port Vale and Chesterfield and dreams of one day signing talent like Luke Beckett.

Yet somehow, without masses of cash, huge crowds or football out of the John Beck manual of coaching, we’ve gone from basement to top table in just under a decade.

However it happened, ‘little’ Blackpool are now mixing it with the big boys, the giants of the European game in theatres of dreams, the richest league in the world, visiting the likes of Liverpool instead of Hartlepool etc etc – like flies to shit, the MSM hacks have their set-piece hyperbole already written and Blackpool firmly written off as an amusing aside before a ball is kicked.

Okay, okay, I hear you, that’s lovely, but wtf does that have to do with the Real FA Cup?

The Big Question

Directly, the answer is bugger all, but think broader says I!

There is a tale to be told that ties in nicely with the ethos of the site – a rejection of entertainment business football in favour of a focus on the travails of the little guy who is either ignored by the mainstream or given a polite, cliched pat on the head for being so ‘plucky’. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that Blackpool were not that much bigger a club than a few of the non-league teams covered in these auspicious pages.

To the average fan this season is an exciting adventure, at least until the 5-0 pummellings by the likes of Stoke or Blackburn begin to rack up. But, for the purposes of the Real FA Cup, it is in many ways an experiment, a hypothetical made real – Can a small club not so far removed from the lower reaches cut it at the top trying to play proper football while avoiding descent into a spiral of debt and corporate stupidity?

Part of the answer is perhaps rather simple, anything but relegation = ‘cutting it’. But, more important to me is the question of whether Blackpool can beat the odds without losing its soul. The pitfalls are many; the indebtedness that wrecked Portsmouth, the ‘pragmatic’ pseudo-football of Pulis and McCarthy, the corporate whoring in search of a shady ‘investor’ with big bucks, big ideas and a propensity to mortgage the future on short term gains.

On the Pitch

As Damon has already warned, its all looking decidedly dicy before a tangerine foot is even set upon the turf at the DW Stadium this coming Saturday. But, that’s exactly how I like it.

Team-wise, there remains a core of last season’s Play off winning side, which came into its own after a rocky mid-season trying to play football amid the physicality of the Championship. They work hard, they are good competent footballers who play for each other (Christ, I sound like f*cking Lawro). It’s immediately clear, however, that the team must be even greater than the sum of its parts than it was last season if it is to keep pace this time around.

Individually, Charlie Adam is the headline grabbing midfield dynamo who is invariably the ‘Key Man’ in any half-arsed attempts by the MSM to preview our season; there’s little point in mirroring their ‘efforts’ here. Instead, I’d highlight the delicate range of passing provided by Crewe alumni David Vaughan who schemes at the back of the three man midfield shielded by Adam and the industrious Keith Southern. He certainly has the quality to make an impact, keeping the ball moving and demonstrating the vision to pick the decisive pass.

The other player who has the potential to really shine is Alex-John ‘the’ Baptiste, relegated out of the league with Mansfield, but now back on a mission from god to keep the Prem’s finest at bay (that’s probably a bit of an exaggeration based on my rather unimaginative word play on his name). At £80,000 he’s shown solidity required of Championship centre-half, but in his stints at both full back positions he’s also demonstrated quality going forward and a nippy turn of pace on the ball.

But beyond this, Pool have too few stand out players who can make things happen and, in particular, there is a troubling lack of pace for a side deploying three forwards. Bodies are certainly required, not merely to provide the depth to brest the inevitable storm of injuries and suspensions, but to fill some key positions.

Business Concluded

The leap of faith in signing of three young, unproven continental types, as we say up north, is ambitious and certainly a step in the right direction. Maluary Martin, Ludovic Sylvestre and Elliot Grandin all have potential and something about them, but very little time to get on the learning curve and exuberance that might not stand up to the first brisk Autumn gale blowing in off the Irish sea.

The one ‘big’ (in the most ironic sense of the word and also as a sexual innuendo given the graphic) signing so far is Marlon ‘the goomba’ Harewood. He’s a freebee, willing to take a wage wage cut and a man who has been given what surely will be a last chance for some Premier League action, but he is hardly a banker for 15 goals this term.

In my humble view, baring a miracle deal where we strike gold on a virile young net buster or get a proven hand whose in the lurch without a deal, its going to be a case of throwing shit at the wall until it sticks, if Marlon can only score 5 or 6 goals, get another two Marlons in to make up the deficit.

And yet, its not all doom and gloom, there are some positives to take into the season.

Attack, Attack, Attack

The three man forward line mitigates against the need for a natural goal scorer allowing a pool of forwards and wingers to chip in. This forms a key part of Ian Holloway’s ethos, his born again exponency of expansive, attacking 4-3-3 fused with an optimistic realism. His pre-season prognostications bare this out: “We won’t change our philosophy about attacking people, home and away … If we’re seven down at Chelsea, then I’m going to try to score – so it might end up 12.”

Of course, what he didn’t say is more important, whilst Chelsea will be licking their lips at the prospect of double figures at Stamford Bridge (remember to set Fat Franky as your Fantasy League captain on 19 September) in the face of such a brazen approach, the likes of Stoke, Wolves, West Brom and Newcastle might not be so confident.

Blackpool retain the ball well and can pass and press forward with a proficiency and dynamism that belies the humble origin of many of their players. A look at the way they dismantled Forest in the Play Off Semi-final second leg should serve as a warning of what they are capable of in full flight.

In Ollie We Trust

The biggest notch on the bed post of positivity, is the irrepressible Ollie himself. His jester-like persona perhaps betrays the motivational qualities, which will, in my view be the critical factor in our hopes. It will come down to the brutal arithematic of needing the best part of ten wins, a few more draws than that and some well placed prayers that the drop zone does not stretch too far above the 35 point mark.

Yet, if Blackpool can turn playing them into the equivalent of an FA Cup 3rd Round tie every week, I’d be willing to bet that even some of the more precious little Prem flowers might wilt on just enough occasions to give the Pool the points they need. Of course, such rank optimism is all well and good in the sunny days of August; come the first poor run of results and Ollies talents of motivation well meet their ultimate test.

In the end, if he can deploy the few available talents whilst keeping a strong team ethic going and possibly add a bargain striker or three, Blackpool have the beginnings of a chance. I can’t go as far as to gush of us carrying forth the torch of football into the monied redoubts of corporate football. But by just being there, it shows others that there may still be a little hope left in the game. Of course, any victory on the pitch can only be Pyrrhic, if all is lost in the boardroom.

My prediction somewhere between 17th and 18th but then again, I’m ever the optimist at heart.

Next Time …

The dull football talk over with, next time, it’s the boardroom, as it’s off the pitch is where the fun and games will really begin.

Certainly, some among the Tangerine Army are beginning to grumble heavily at the lack of signings, the loan shark shirt sponsor and the rumours of yet further instances of Oystonian tight-arsedness … or could the Badger’s Arse approach be a new ideology for football to embrace?