I've been writing (if that's the right word) about the England football team elsewhere since 2006, and this is basically the theme: (even when we win) England are shit.

If that's not depressing enough in itself, and you are curious for more, here's a little summary of what to expect should you enter the rabbit hole:

The best place to start is my preview of England's ill-fated plan to get to the final of the 2012 World Cup in South Africa under the guidance of disciplinarian Italian capo Fabio Capello.

That post links to all my previous writings on England's proud tradition and long history of international failure, humiliation, and general, all-round shittiness on the football pitch. But in case you prefer a handy list, here you are, in chronological order:

2006: A new Scotland? Why England's football team will soon be as shit as Scotland's

2007: Why we're crap: the problem with English football

2010: Why England don't have a hope in hell of winning the football World Cup in 2010

2010: No future in England's dreaming? Inside the mind of Fabio Capello

2010: The World Cup on drugs: pure-grade heroin cut with shavings of Clive Tyldesley

2012: Why England don't have a hope in hell of winning Euro 2012

By 2014, I got sick of all this, and so turned to music, with my adaptation of Billy Bragg's classic song: A New Ingerland

While I'm at it (self-promotion, that is), and in case you're still with me and wondering what the Jimmy Carter thing is all about (and you have the stomach for more football-related musical adaptations):

2011 (There's Only One) Jimmy Carter (the footballer, not the peanut farmer)

2014: Whatever happened to... Jimmy Carter?

As if you didn’t know it was coming. I say something completely fair and above board about Hamer’s side, and what do you know. We end up having a goal disallowed. That goal should have stood, and if it had, we’d have been 1 up early doors and on our way to a decent away win.



And as if that wasn’t enough, we had another red card. That’s two in three league games now, and we lost both. The one game we kept all 11 on the pitch, we won.

The other two, a dismissal and a defeat. And still people are trying to tell me that it’s all in my head. That there is no conspiracy. That people are happy for Levante to win? Two reds in three games tells a very different story.

I love this club, I’ve out my heart and soul into it. I don’t want to go anywhere else, and as a mark of commitment to them, I have stated I will walk away if this season if we don’t improve on what we did last season. I said that as I believe in myself, and I believe in the players I have here. It looks like people don’t want us to succeed though. Clearly they are speaking to officials and ensuring that we are as disadvantaged as possible. My best guess is one of the Italian mobsters have gotten themselves caught up in the wrong crowd. Beddows has gotten himself into some hot water recently and upset his missus. Apparently he was caught with his hands on another girl. Not the sort of thing you want to do when your father in law has “connections”. He won’t get the gig in Madrid or Barcelona, so I reckon he’s had a whip round and set the officials up so he can grab my job at the end of the season. Bloody scum bag that he is.

Anyway, all this flying around to various countries for league games reminds me of a trip I once took Down Under. I was on my way for some business, but decided to call in on everyone’s favourite Antipodean, Michael Huddo Hudson while I was down there.

He’s a lad I tell you. He met me at the airport in his big pick up. He called it a Ute actually, I didn’t really understand what he was on about, but it was a nice ride. Plenty of supplies on board too.

Anyhow, we headed off into the Bush for a bit of a road trip. He’s a proper headcase is Huddo. We’re driving off through the outback and Huddo’s driving like Lewis Hamilton with a rocket up his arse. I’ve never been so scared in my life. The lad’s drifting around rocks, jumping creeks, playing skittles with herds of kangaroo, and all the time steering with his knees. He had to really, he had a spliff in one hand, and a Castlemaine in the other.

I’ve had some adventures in the past, but this one was unreal. We finally arrived at this Aborigine camp in the middle of nowhere. All of a sudden, Huddos cracking out the didgeridoo and boomerang. Turns out he’s a bit of an expert with the old bendy stick. He’s chucking it all over, and catching it on the way back. Turns out he was the interstate boomerang champion at Summer Bay High a few years back.

Well there he is, chuckin’ it about like John Terry chucks his manhood at his team mates birds. Clearly he thinks he’s something special, so this Aborigine comes over and challenges him to a boomerang contest. This fella, Wiradjuri, is a boomerang legend amongst the indigenous folk, and holds the boomerang world record. Over he comes, and declares that the loser of the competition has to spend the night in a tent they call the Goon Bag Room. I had no idea what that means, all I knew at this stage was that the Aborigine colony was somewhat short on females. Didnt worry me, I’m an open minded individual, but it’s nice to have something to look at though. Huddo on the other hand was bricking it.

So anyway, he’s agreed to enter the competition, but he’s shaking like a shitting dog. He couldn’t do anything, and ended up losing. Big old Wiradjuri just smiles and leads him off to the hut. He went in with Huddo, and the rest of the camp started to queue up outside the door, going in one after another. I just curled up and had a kip in the back of the pick up. Next morning Huddo’s walking around like John Wayne, but he wouldn’t say what happened. In fact, he never spoke of it the entire journey. He invested in a rubber ring, but we never went swimming, he just sat on it.

Anyway, we’re travelling along, and to change the subject he gets to talking about all the wildlife in Australia. There is a shit load, some of them are proper weird though. He was telling me about something called a platypus. Tried telling me it’s an otter that lays eggs, and has a duck beak and feet. Yeah, righto Huddo, the idiots from the UK are in town. I’ll give you kangaroos and enormous spiders, but you’re not getting tales of mythical creatures past me.

He went mental at one point. I’d try and explain what happened, but in all honesty, the video I made shows the boy in action and beats any words I could ever use.

Three games in to Season 4, and after two wins, VfL Wolfsburg climb into 5th position on the table. Manager Greg Owen looks at the task ahead after setting himself a Managerial Stipulation of at least making the promotion playoff placings.

Like most managers, this means looking at a minimum number of points that the team will need during the season, or alternatively looking at the number of wins required, in order to meet the chairman’s and the team’s goal. And of course - to save his own job!




So, looking at the past three seasons in Division 2 (see below for summary) shows that a total of 70pts or more in any of the past seasons will mean a top three finish and automatic promotion to Division 1. Typically this has equated to winning at least 20 or 21 games in the season.

The situation for reaching the promotion playoffs is again reasonably consistent - although clearly Season 3 was a lot tighter and the points required to reach 7th were lower as a result. But overall, a points total of over 60 would be expected to be required to have a chance of playing off for promotion - with an expectation of winning about 18 games or more required to reach this total.

So clearly the first goal is to accumulate at least 60pts, with an aim of winning at least half of all league games during the season. Once that one’s in the bag, we’ll push on for a top three finish!

To bring some reality into the situation, let’s compare this with how Wolfsburg have fared in the past three seasons - all of which have been spent in Division 2. Wolfsburg have ended the three seasons in 12th, 5th and 10th places on totals of 51, 65 and 52pts. So with the exception of Season 2’s excellent achievement - the last time the team reached the playoff spots - Wolfsburg have been pretty consistent in points scored, with the difference in placings being attributable to the tightness of the competition in Season 3.

Taking the view from Mr Malcolm - in his excellent statistical analysis - has put Wolfsburg at 7th in Season 2, and 14th in Season 3 (I couldn’t find the analysis for Season 1). So the team has managed to improve +2 and +4 on these predictions in the past. For Season 4 his prediction is for Wolfsburg to be back up to 7th - presumably based on the overall improvements in the squad with the addition of Gotze, Fabregas and Toure - so certainly a Top 5 finish is not out of the question.

So what are the main changes which might impact getting to this target? Obviously the on-going ratings challenge for Fabregas and Toure will have a big impact - will they stay pretty consistent or will they be hit by big drops? If the Rooney example is anything to go by, they could remain at 94 and 92 for some time to come! Also, given the exposure in the current squad, Wolfsburg, Schalke and Dortmund (in real life) need to start firing in the Bundesliga so that some of the other players in the squad could get a chance to maintain their rating (Naldo), or even get a rise (Knoche or Geis). And now that Can is back in a firing Liverpool lineup (and scoring), it would be good to have another 90-rated midfielder in the pack.



So 6pts in the bag - two wins. Only another 54pts to go!

A quick look at who some of the key players might be and which teams will qualify
from this season’s most competitive group.

Manchester City

Division One big club City will be hoping their midfield starlets can create enough chances as well as providing solid defensive cover.

Chances of qualifying from this group? Small.




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AC Milan

Fellow D1 big club Milan will have to find a way of playing, scoring goals and winning minus their only player - Mario Balotelli. Unbelievably, I Rossoneri boss ‘Big Bed’ Stefano Bedowski has reportedly moored his narrowboat outside Top 100 capo Francesco Hristo’s luxury yacht, with Shergar and a chainsaw, in an attempt to intimidate him into allowing Balotelli to play.

Likelihood that Frank will get into Stephen’s big bed? Flogging a dead horse.

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Sunderland

The Rokerites have just brought in Jerry St Juste on loan from Portugal thanks to Benfica boss Nuno Bento’s predilection for underage boys.

Will they get out of the group? Just no.

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Hamburg

Young der Dino are second seeds thanks to their good run in the competition last season. Only four of those players are likely to feature this time around, however, and a perceived lack of homegrown talent has been supplemented by the loan signings of Sao Paolo keeper Guruceaga and Standard flyer Zeneli.

Will they go all the way, or fall at the first hurdle? It is certain.

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Twente

Twente boss Bal Gill will hope his highly-rated young Turkish star Ayhan maintains his level, but Bayern loanee Baumgartl looks a good addition in any case.

Twente to win? Twenty to one.

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Flamengo

Boss Mark Phelps has made some shrewd acquisitions in the youth transfer market particularly in keeping to his Brazilian-only policy.

As well as Doria, Otavio and Clayton, below, he can call on the similarly highly-rated Gerson and Guilherme.

Tip for the top. Dark horses, perhaps, but maybe best placed to finish first.

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Mark Gardiner, tell you something, a few performances like that from Partizan and he’ll be my gardener. He invited me up to his office for a chat after the game last night. In truth, I just wanted to go home. Belgrade is a bit fresh at the best of times, but it it full on brass monkeys last night. He wanted to ask what I did to get my team playing so well last night. It was easy, I just told them that if they lost to his shower then I’d make them go and clean up Rahul’s old pad in Birmingham.

I went round there once. This was a while back, before he moved to Manchester. It was an absolute hell hole. The man likes his clutter I’ll tell you that. It was like some kind of cross between a museum and a car boot sale. There was more shit in that house than in a whole Donald Trump election campaign.

I was looking at some of it. There was a box of fleshlights behind the sofa, a gimp suit in the cellar, about a dozen different variations of Scrabble, a Miami Vice box set, and a packet of tissues next to a family value tub of Vaseline sitting on the coffee table.

He tried telling me that none of it belonged to him, that it belonged to a previous tenant. Now Rahul is an intelligent fella, and so am I, so I pulled him up in my best Latin. I told him he was spouting a load of Bullyus Shyteeus. Obviously the old boy knew what I meant, but he was adamant.

To be fair to him, the “Roy Keane” name tag sewn into the back of the gimp suit was fairly convincing, but on the other hand, it may have been a double bluff. Rahul is fairly handy with the sewing jenny, and more than once I’ve heard about him spending a few quid in various haberdashery establishments.

I did try discussing the allegations with Keano, but the boy wouldn’t answer the phone. I just kept getting a voice mail telling me to leave a message and he’d call back once he was home from the Rubber Lover and Whipping Wonders Club. Not sure what kind of boozer it was, but to be fair I don’t go drinking in Madrid.

Anyhow, Rahul was trying to tidy some of the stuff away while I was rooting through it, and then you won’t believe it. I’m sitting there in his rocking chair, just waiting for him to break out the JD, when a zebra comes trotting into the living room. I’ll be honest, I did think it was the acid, but no, the boy has a pet feckin’ zebra. He loves the thing. Rides it around like a horse, keeps it in a bedroom converted into a weird stable hybrid thing, but he won’t go anywhere without it.

He makes out like he’s been loyal to the Villa, and all of the big offers he’s rejected have been due to that loyalty. Truth of the matter is actually this. That zebra is an illegal immigrant, and he can’t get it out of the country as it doesn’t have a passport. First big British club that comes knocking though, the boy can’t get away quick enough.
Loyalty my arse, the boy wouldn’t know the meaning of the word if he read a dictionary. Honestly, what an absolute ring pull that boy really is.