As the transfer window closed, football fans around the world witnessed the last minute scramble for signatures.
THERE WERE so many things I uncovered this week.
For instance, did you know there are around 250 to 266 pickleball courts spread across more than 40 different locations in Kuala Lumpur?
But since Manchester United won last weekend, I guess I don’t really need to take up pickleball, for now.
As the transfer window closed, football fans around the world witnessed the last minute scramble for signatures.
With clubs desperately throwing money to secure players they might not need, what caught my eye was Enzo Fernandez moving to rival Manchester City, just months after passionately mouthing off at Mason Mount ‘betraying’ the Stamford Bridge cause. Meanwhile, World Cup villain Emi Martínez left Aston Villa to join Chelsea.
That is about the only thing I’d care to mention regarding the Argentine duo, though the logic escapes me. Enzo showing up at the Etihad for £125 million feels like an identical output to Elliot Anderson. Perhaps Enzo Maresca simply insisted on having another namesake in the dressing room to keep the kit man on his toes.
That said, why on earth do Chelsea think Martínez is an upgrade over Robert Sanchez?
Last season, Sanchez conceded 61 goals in 45 matches, while Martínez let in 46 in 43 matches. If you ask me, swapping one leak for another hardly feels like a defensive revolution. Yes, for me, 15 goals difference doesn’t really matter.
That said, turning our attention to Chelsea’s frontline, we find ourselves reading an entirely different script.
Against Brighton over the weekend, without conceding three comical goals, Chelsea’s free-flowing attack machine would have won 4-0, maybe more. They are ridiculously good going forward, and I still stand by my original prognosis for Xabi Alonso.
He will either have the league title wrapped up by Christmas or be handed a ‘thank you for participating’ slip. Judging by the gameplay on the pitch and the good job I’ve been doing with Joao Pedro and Cole Palmer in my Fantasy Football team, he might just be onto something. But this week, we find out just how good Chelsea really are.
Arsenal are coming to town, and this time Chelsea will be testing themselves against one of the best in the league, with David Raya and company waiting to see whether this Chelsea attack is the real deal.
Then we have the midfield of Manchester United, where the sheer composure of Kobbie Mainoo, commanding the football pitch over the weekend, calmly running the show and pulling the strings in United’s 5-2 destruction of Ipswich Town FC.
After some time, Old Trafford actually felt like Old Trafford again. Bruno Fernandes bagged a hattrick, and Mainoo operated with the kind of smooth, unhurried grace that makes you want to sip your favourite drink and just admire the show. Mainoo didn’t rush. He didn’t look bothered. He just seemed to know where he needed to be before everyone else did.
He was subtle, he was everywhere, and he gave United that pressing presence in midfield that allowed the players in front of him to actually go and cause damage. Gliding past Ipswich defenders with the casual feints and agility of a chinese kopitiam waiter carrying a tray of hot Curry Mee, Mainoo completed 80% of his dribbles, 89% of his passes, won 3 tackles, made 2 interceptions, and won 10 duels. No panic. No fuss. Just get the job done.
In a weekend where I could actually sit down and enjoy the games without wondering what disaster was coming next, we saw Oliver Glasner doing a quietly extraordinary job with Nottingham Forest, as evidenced by their latest result against Liverpool.
Seeing Forest play this way always brings a smile to my face, mostly because it makes me wonder what my former colleague and dear friend Bob Holmes, who is actually a true Forest fan, thinks. Watching Glasner work his magic at the City Ground, Bob must feel like he’s living in a time machine. The Austrian might lack a pair of European Cups, but the tactical discipline he has drilled into this side is seriously impressive.
Speaking of managers who remain unnervingly cool while absolute chaos unfolds around them, you have to look at Andoni Iraola. In the first half against Nottingham Forest, Liverpool were operating at a chaotic tempo.
Yet, Iraola just stood there. Calmly watching. Calculating. Waiting.
Having watched football since the 1990s, I’ve seen enough Liverpool teams with this particular DNA to know exactly how terrifying it can be.
Every time you think Liverpool are on the verge of destruction, they have this irritating habit of striking back. As a Manchester United fan, I hate it with every fibre of my being. As a neutral football fan… honestly, I hate it even more.
Then, just to make the rest of us completely miserable, Liverpool spent £120 million on Bradley Barcola on deadline day.
You look at their attacking line and ask yourself: why on earth do you need another electrifying winger when you already have Cody Gakpo casually turning fullbacks inside out and young Victor Munoz waiting in the wings?
Barcola isn’t just squad depth, he is a living cheat code.
Then you remember what Liverpool are doing. They are rebuilding.
And then there is Tottenham.
Honestly, why bother?
Let them take their time buying tactical guides from EA Sports, ordering spare PS5 controllers, and finding a goalkeeper equipped with actual working eyes before they start behaving like a real football club, and maybe next week we can talk something about them.