January 21 – Don’t Hassle The Volzy

WE’VE said it before here at OTFD, but footballers are a funny breed and for our money there’s none more amusing that Fulham defender Moritz Volz who was born today in 1983.

You’d be forgiven for think that the German right-back was just another footballer earning his trade in the Premiership, but a five minute look on his website makes you realise there’s something special about the man they call ‘Mr Resistor’. A mixture of self-deprecation, dry wit and David Hasselhoff-worship means that www.volzy.com is our favourite ever footballer’s home page.

As a youngster Volz was snapped up by none other than Arsene Wegner who was impressed by his performances in the German Youth team. He never made the grade at Highbury though and was shipped out to Wimbledon and then Fulham on loan before making his move to Craven Cottage permanent. He’s since racked up over 100 games for the West-Londoners but is arguably more well known for his larger-than-life personality off the pitch.

“Being German, I love David Hasselhoff,” he boasts and he’s not lying. Volz has a whole section on his website devoted to the Hoff, including a gallery of pictures where Volz dons the hallowed red shorts and holds that weird orange thing, just like the Hoff would. “In times of trouble I often ask myself ‘how would the Hoff deal with this situation…?’” is one of the strangest ways to live your life we’ve ever heard, but there just might be something in it. Volz was going through a dry spell in front of goal, having not scored for three years, so decided the Hoff could help. He got the great-mulletted one’s name inscribed on his boots for a match against Aston Villa in 2006 and just like that, he smashed in a volley and dedicated it to Hasselhoff.

Last season Volz’s name went down in the history books as he scored the 15,000th goal in Premiership history which bought about the nickname ’15,000 Volz’. So, happy birthday Volzy, we hope you get everything you asked for – no doubt a sack of Baywatch and Knight Rider DVDs. See what he gets up to in his spare time below and come on over tomorrow to see one of the more outlandish groundskeeping decisions ever made.

January 20 – An Ode To Paolo Maldini

WHEN I grow up (because here at OTFD, we don’t count being a grown up until at least until you hit 40) I want to be Paolo Maldini. He’s got it all – more medals than you can shake a stick at, a fortune in the bank, a model wife, and he’s one of the most respected and liked footballers ever. Basically, he’s perfect, and it all began today in 1985 when he pulled on the Milan shirt for the first time as a fresh-faced sixteen year-old against Udinese.

An injury crisis at the San Siro meant that Milan were pushed into naming the youngster on the bench and he got his chance at half-time when defender Sergio Battistini had to come off injured. One of the crocked Milan defenders at that time was English brawler Ray Wilkins, so at a push you could say he’s responsible for breakthrough of the greatest defender of all-time. Maybe.

Showing the kind of loyalty that would make Nicolas Anelka blush, Maldini is the ultimate one-club man. He joined the club aged ten, following in the footsteps of his legendary father, Cesare, who spend twelve years marshalling the Milanese midfield. In the twenty-three years since his debut he’s been a part of some truly great sides, such as the late ’80s/early ’90s all conquering ‘Dream Team’ under Arrigo Sacchi and Don Fabio Capello.

Along the way he’s broken all manner of records by notching up over 850 games for the club and winning ever trophy under the sun for Milan. His trophy cabinet reads as follows (deep breath): 7 Serie A titles, 1 Coppa Italia, 5 Italian Super Cups, 5 Champions Leagues, 5 European Super Cups, 2 Intercontinental Cups and a FIFA Club World Cup. Not too shabby, you’ll agree.

He’s also Italy’s most capped player, having represented the Azzurri 126 times. The only blotch on his career is a lack of an international title, as Italy suffered a series of near misses during Maldini’s time and he had called it a day before their 2006 World Cup triumph.

Maldini owes much of his success to his clean-living lifestyle. He has opened his own night-club in Milan, the upmarket ‘Hollywood’, but you’re more likely to find him behind the decks DJing, rather than chasing totty (and that’s not Francesco) on the dancefloor after 13 Bacardi Breezers. He’s also got a clothing line with his mate Christian Vieri, a modelling contract with H&M and runs a footballing school for children. See, he’s perfect.

However, as a wise man once said (Chaucer to be specific – don’t say we never teach anything at OTFD), all good things must come to an end, and Paolo announced after Milan’s victory over Boca Juniors in the FIFA Club World Cup last month that this would be his last season. Fear not though Maldini fans, there’s another one! Following the footsteps of Poppa and Gramps Maldini, 12-year old Chrisitan is making waves in the Milan youth squad. Are we going to see a third great Milanese Maldini, as they play out their own version of the Generation Game? Unfortunately we can’t tell you that at OTFD, but what we can do is bring you some more footballing titbits from days gone by tomorrow, so do what Paolo would do and get an early night and come back for that tomorrow. Here’s a video spanning the ages of one of our favourite players to tide you over in the meantime .

January 19 – Savage Garden

WITH all their money, expensive cars and page three model girlfriends it is often said that Premier League footballers live on a different planet.

One of our favourite top-flight heroes certainly seemed to live on in a different world to the rest of us, if his grasp of geography is anything to go by.

Yes in the world of Robert James Savage, Britain itself is a different shape to how the rest of us understand it with the town of Blackburn apparently a lot closer to Wrexham than we all thought.

It was on this day in 2005 that Savage engineered himself a transfer to Blackburn Rovers from Birmingham City, citing the fact that he wanted to be nearer to his parents in Wrexham as the main reason for his move.

This despite the fact that the real reason was he wanted to go and play for his old Wales mucker Mark Hughes at Blackburn (for more cash); and that Ewood Park is a grand total of five minutes closer to Wrexham than St Andrews.

Eager to ram home the point The Telegraph stretched the imagination of how millionaire premiership footballers travel just a tad by revealing that if Robbie were to get the train it would take him an hour longer between Wrexham and Blackburn, and he would have to change three times.

Karen Brady, Birmingham chief executive was as baffled as the rest of us at Savage’s sense of direction

“We are all surprised and disappointed by the news of Robbie’s transfer request, especially as it seems he wants to swap Birmingham for Blackburn, which I cannot understand,” she said.

“If Robbie has come to that decision because of the distance between Blackburn and Wrexham, he should take a look on his map.”

Still, Robbie never did mind being hated by all and sundry so adding the other half of the population of the second city (Villa fans obviously already fully paid up members of the I Hate Robbie Savage Club) was probably not going to mean he lost any sleep.

Sav has of course now moved on again and can now be found at Pride Park trying in vein to convince anyone who’ll listen they still have a chance of staying up.

Here is Robbie in a series of clips getting hit in the face by everything from the ball, the referee and even his own teammates.

For all you fans of Italian football, make sure you come back tomorrow for news of a 100 per cent bona fide nailed on absolute legend. Arrivederche.

January 18 – Red Jim’s Victory

HELLO there comrades and welcome to a tale about the workers throwing off the chains and shackles of the oppressive factory bosses to secure their futures. Huzzah!

Except revolutionary Russia this is not, and for workers read ‘footballers’ and for oppressive factory bosses read ‘club chairmen’, for it was on this day in 1961 that the maximum wage for players was abolished, thanks largely to the efforts of Jimmy Hill.

Hill was a player for Fulham at the time and was also the chairman of the Professional Footballers’ Association – only one of the many and diverse roles in football that Hill has occupied including player, chairman, TV presenter and emergency linesman.

The days of training ground car parks having to have their parking spaces widened to accommodate all the Bentleys and Range Rovers were a long way off in 1961 when the maximum any player could earn was £20 a week during the season, dropping to £17 a week in the summer.

Many players spent their summers learning a trade that would provide their living once they hung up their boots but their had long been dissatisfaction at the wage cap which had eventually forced Hill to rally his troops and threaten a strike.

“The players are revolting!” the Football League president Joe Richards might have exclaimed before tearing his eyes away from a picture of Luke Chadwick and realising this was a battle he was going to lose.

Hill and Richards were pictured shaking hands on the steps of the Ministry of Labour after the agreement had been reached and football had changed forever.

The effects of the abolition of the wage cap were felt immediately. Only months previously Fulham chairman comedian Tommy Trinder said of his star player Johnny Haynes: “Haynes is an entertainer like I am, and if the maximum wage is ever abolished, I will pay him what he is worth, which is £100 a week.”

Trinder’s very public declaration meant he had to stand by his word and Haynes became the very first £100 a week player (see the story here http://www.onthisfootballday.com/2007_10_18/october-18-%e2%80%93-haynes-passes-away.php).

Hill himself never benefited from the historic agreement he helped engineer as an injury forced him to retire not long after his revolutionary moment.

Since then there have been calls to reintroduce a wage cap as salaries spiral out of control with players like Lucas Neill no longer happy with pocketing £55,000 a week for being an average right back in an average team.

Despite the madness of player wages these days, Hill said in 2001 he did not regret having the cap cropped.

He said: “Not that I’ve ever changed my beliefs. The battle we fought was for a player to be free to negotiate for what he was worth with no restrictions. That holds good in 2001, and is nothing to do with the David Beckhams of this world being overpaid – he justifies, earns and deserves his money because a super-wealthy club like Manchester United can happily afford him.

“The stupidity which is rife is that outside the top eight or 10 ultra-rich clubs, there are others demanding, and getting, ludicrous salaries when the clubs simply cannot afford them. Even some Third Division players are on £1,000 a week. For their clubs and directors that just means guaranteeing bank loans and consequent debt, debt, debt. Crazy.”

Here’s Jimmy at his finest on Match of the Day and come back tomorrow when we’ll be right back with more historical football jigary-pokery.

January 17 – ¡Feliz Cumpleaños El Filtrador!

Guillermo Stábile’s 1957 Copa América winning Argentina side

MOST forwards are pretty darn chuffed if they manage a strike rate of a goal every two games but today we are featuring a player who scored two goals for every game he played for his country.

Guillermo Stábile is that man and it was on this day in 1905 that he was born in Argentine capital Buenos Aires.

Apart from his terrific strike rate Stábile’s other big claim to fame is that he was top scorer at the first ever world cup held in Uruguay in 1930.

His eight goals at the tournament came in only four games after he was left out of the side for Argentina’s opening match against France. He also scored in the final to give his team a 2-1 lead at half time before they were beaten 4-2 by Uruguay.

Stábile’s nickname was El Filtrador which translates as ‘The Creeper’ or ‘The Infiltrator’ after his ability to sneak in undetected behind the opposition’s defence. Possibly the coolest nickname in football.

Having never played for the national team before, Stábile was an unexpeted hero for the Argentines but he never played for his country again after the competition in Uruguay meaning his record read: played four, scored eight.

After the tournament he took advantage of his new found fame and moved to Italy to play for Genoa. Continuing his habit of making an impact he scored a hattrick on his debut against rivals Bologna to become an instant fan favourite.

After five years at Genoa El Filtrador preceeded another Argentine great by moving to Napoli before he finished his playing days in France with Red Star Paris.

Far from the unknown amateur who sat on the bench at that first match in the 1930 world cup, by 1939 Stábile a much respected figure in the game and was given the top job as manager of the Argentine national side. He went on to win six Copa América titles with the team with his 1957 title winning team in particular lauded as one of the best sides ever to play the beautiful game.

The old infiltrator got out of the football game in 1960 and died six years later aged only 61.

Here is the big man scoring in the 1930 final and come back tomorrow to find out why you won’t find many former footballers running pubs or becoming plasterers anymore.

January 16 – Drawing Blanks

THESE days whenever there’s a draw to be made you get a slick, stage-managed affair shown live on Sky Sports News, where the ex-pro’s are wheeled out to talk about ‘groups of death’ or ‘the magic of the cup.’ They’re normally very boring and sterile, but today in 1982 one of the most comical draws ever seen took place, as the draw for upcoming World Cup in Spain turned into a bit of a Titus Shambles.

FIFA dignitaries were gathered in Madrid for the usual complementary piss-up that they are so adapt at disguising as work, and all they needed to do was pull a few balls out of a drum or two. Sounds like something you could trust to someone of even Anton Ferdinand’s intellect doesn’t it? Well, not really, as things began to pear-shaped very quickly.

Competition rules meant that Peru and Chile, the two unseeded South American sides had to be kept away from Brazil and Argentina, but someone forgot to take the balls out. Not a good start, and it soon got more embarrassing when Scotland were picked out and placed in Argentina’s group, only to realise that Belgium had already been picked in that spot, meaning the Scots were put in with Brazil instead.

As the whole saga began to look as organised as the Newcastle back-four, one of the containers holding the balls jammed, splitting open and cascading ping pong balls everywhere. Any hopes of FIFA salvaging any self-respect from the charade were dashed when FIFA’s West German representative Hermann Neuberger accused the organisers of slave labour by using Spanish orphans to fetch the balls back and forth. Presumably they didn’t respond by mentioning the war.

Eventually, though, they got there, throwing up some tantalising match-ups such as England (who were in their first World Cup for 12 years) versus France, Spain versus Yugoslavia and Brazil against the USSR, as Italy went on to pick up the trophy for the third time.

Unfortunately, talk of Sky Sports News and red buttons was the stuff of madmen back then, meaning no footage of the comedy of errors is available, so you’ll have to make do with Marco Tardelli’s goal from the final, complete with one of the best celebration’s there’s ever been. Tomorrow we’ll let you know who had the coolest ever nickname in world football. And no, it’s not Robert ‘The Terminator’ Molenaar.

January 15 – Sheikh-ing Sven

A couple of days ago we bought you the story of the appointment of England’s first foreign manager, the always entertaining Sven Goran Eriksson. Today though, it’s all about the demise of Sven, as it was on this day in 2006 that the News of the World got one of the biggest scoops in years, when their ‘fake sheikh’ claimed another scalp and Eriksson was made to look very, very silly.

Sven’s a trusting soul, as he didn’t think there was any funny business going on as he was flown out to Dubai, put up in the seven-star Burj al-Arab hotel to eat lobster, drink champagne and talk football with his new best mate, a wealthy sheikh. To be fair, we’d have probably gone along with it too, sounds like heaven. Alas, the tabloid press are slippery folk and it was all an elaborate sting operation.

The three-hour cruise on a luxury yacht gave the News of the World plenty of ammunition to go at Sven with. The sheikh had convinced Sven to take over Aston Villa after the 2006 World Cup and bring in David Beckham. Then he set about upsetting the national squads best players, as he called Rio Ferdinand lazy, said Wayne Rooney “comes from a poor family” and that Michael Owen didn’t like life at Newcastle and was only there for the money. The whole outburst was like one of those nights where you get really drunk, tell everyone what you really think of them and then have to spend the whole of the next day on the phone offering grovelling apologies. We’ve all been there Sven, don’t worry.

So, this wasn’t really the best way to build up to the 2006 World Cup. Sven spent the next few days starting legal proceedings and fighting his corner in the press. “It was a kick under the belt” he sobbed, but maintained that it wouldn’t make an impact on the team’s preparation for Germany. Which, to be fair, was probably true, as not even tabloid scandals can mix it with the unwritten metaphysical law that states England must go out on penalties in the quarter-finals.

The ‘fake sheikh’ turned out to be an undercover reporter called Mazher Mahmood, whose previous victims had included Newcastle bosses Freddie Shepherd and Douglas Hall who were caught labelling Geordie woman “dogs” whilst in a brothel in Marbella. John Barnes, Chris Eubank, John Fashanu and George Galloway have also been caught in compromising postions by Mahmood.

Less than two weeks after the article first appeared, it was announced that Sven would indeed be stepping down after the tournament in Germany. He didn’t do too bad out of it though, as his compensation of £6,500 a day cushioned the blow until he got bored of daytime television and took up he post at Manchester City.

We’ll leave you with Irish pundit Eamon Dunphy offering one of his textbook forthright views on Sven, and make sure you head over this way tomorrow because we’ll be dusting off the synthesisers and shoulder pads as we go back to ’80s.

January 14 – In Your Face Eyal

IT is well known that Andy Cole and Teddy Sheringham were not even on speaking terms when they were playing together at Manchester United in the late 1990s but as far as we know even their frosty relationship never spilled over into physical violence.

The same cannot be said of John Hartson and Eyal Berkovic after the former famously kicked the latter in the face while they were team mates at West Ham United in October 1998.

It was on this day in 1999 that a line was finally drawn under the incident when Hartson was sold to Wimbledon for £7.5m.

The Welshman had joined the Irons from Arsenal only two years earlier for just over £3m so acclaimed wheeler dealer Harry Redknapp had managed to double his money on Hartson as well as shipping out the bad egg in his squad.

The incident occured at West Ham’s Chadwell training ground and was sparked after Hartson tackled Berkovic and then offered an arm to help the Israeli back to his feet. Presumably upset with the tackle Berkovic swung his arm at Hartson who immediately retaliated by kicking Berkovic full in the face.

Berkovic could not eat for two days after the attack and said afterwards: “If my head had been a ball, it would have been in the top corner of the net.”

Redknapp agreed saying: “John aimed a kick at Eyal that would have taken his head off had he not managed to throw it back.”

Hartson’s punishment for an attack that could easily have warranted a criminal charge was a fine from his club of two weeks wages which was no doubt more than compensated by his signing on fee for Wimbledon.

His move to the Dons coincided with the plucky little overachievers finally being relegated from the Premier League and a move to Coventry beckoned for Hartson.

His stay at Highfield Road was even more short lived and he was soon on his way to Celtic where he really made his mark, scoring 88 goals in 146 league appearances and in 2005 he was voted Scottish Football Writers’ Association Player of the Year.

Meanwhile Berkovic also left West Ham soon after the incident, moving initially to Celtic (crucially he was not at Celtic Park at the same time as Hartson), and then a series of other English clubs before a swan song at Maccabi Tel-Aviv before retirement in 2006.

We’ll be back with more tomorrow folks when we’ll be finding out why wearing glasses doesn’t necessarily make you clever; but before you go have a look at Berkovic headbutting Hartson’s boot below. TTFN.

January 13 – Va-Va-Voom

BONJOUR! Today we’re hopping over the channel to look at a young hopeful who signed his first professional contract today in 1997. Unlike most young dreamers he wasn’t to be found in the pub twenty years later going all Terry Malloy on us and claiming ‘I coulda been a contender,’ as this young Frenchmen has made a rather good stab of it. The player, of course, is Thierry Henry who put pen to paper for Arsene Wenger’s Monaco side.

As a fresh-faced twenty-year old Henry was already a mainstay in the Ligue Un side, having made is debut two and a half years earlier, so as soon as he has was old enough, Wenger knew he had to get him on board. This was despite some shenanigans the month before, when Real Madrid had tried to poach the young striker and thought that they’d secured a deal to sign Henry. A pre-contract agreement was signed, but it turned out that the agent in the middle of the deal was not registered with FIFA, so both Henry and the Spanish giants were given a ticking off by being fined and the contract was annulled.

It wasn’t long until Henry did get his big move though, as Juventus came knocking with a £10.5 million bid in January 1999. There wasn’t too much va-va-vooming at the Delle Alpi though, as Henry didn’t like being put out to graze on the left wing, and soon got fed up. By July he was speaking out against the club in the press and urging national side team-mate Nicolas Anelka not to join the club, which to be fair was good advice – one sulking French forward is always more than enough.

In August 1999 he made the move to Arsenal and we don’t really need to tell you what happened next. But we will anyway. Henry proved to be one Wenger’s biggest masterstrokes as Thierry Henry got his stuttering career back on track as he took to the Premiership like a duck to water. He was the first genuine world-class player foreign player to come to maturity in the Premier League and one of the most exciting talents ever to play on these shores. In his eight-year spell with the Gooners he became their all-time leading scorer with 226 goals and helped them to two Premier League title and three FA Cups. He also found time to make a whole heap of adverts that lead to the word ‘va-va-voom’ being included in the Oxford English Dictionary, which is more than most footballers can boast.

He can now be found strutting his stuff at the Camp Nou – albeit more in the treatment room the pitch so far, as Wenger’s knack for knowing when to get rid of a player at the right time has been proved again. Check out some of his Gallic flair below and we’ll be back tomorrow to look at one of the games greats.

January 12 – England Go Foreign

“SVEN Sven Sven-Göran Eriksson
He’s a lovely geezer but don’t forget that he’s from Swe-den.”

So sang songwriting duo Bell and Spurling in their 2001 ditty which became something of an unexpected hit.

The reason they were crooning about a balding, bespectacled Swede was that the FA decided there were no decent bosses to be found at home and appointed Sven as England’s first foreign manager. It was on this day that Sven flew into England to begin his new job.

While the appointment of a foreigner to England’s top job caused a certain amount of debate, most fans were just keen to see someone in the job who could make a decent fist of it, after lionhearted Kevin Keegan’s brand of alcohol and card school based coaching had somehow inexplicably failed, leaving England bottom of their world cup qualifying group – below even Albania.

Aware of the possibly xenophobic views of some England fans, Eriksson had a plan to win them round. “I will prove my critics wrong with good football and good results,” he said, adding: “I have to defend myself with good football, good results. If results come, no-one cares about the nationality of the manager.”

And not a meaningless platitude about ‘pride,’ ‘passion’ or ‘the English way of playing’ in sight. Had he learnt nothing from his predecessors?

Things started pretty darn well for Sven as he got the world cup qualifying campaign well and truly back on track including the famous 5-1 demolition of Germany when even Emile Heskey managed to score a goal.

Over the next five years under Sven’s charge the England team did sort of ok, without setting the world alight by getting knocked out of two world cups and Euro 2004 at the quarter final stage, before the Swede stood down from his position.

For a man who seemed to do as little as possible in his job (picking the same players whether or not they were fit or in form, never using a different system, never moving from his position on the bench during a game etc) Sven was remarkably busy in his free time.

In between keeping his long term partner Nancy Dell’Olio sweet as, Sven found time to bed Ulrika Jonsson and FA sexcretary Faria Alam, and flirt with both Manchester United and Chelsea, as well as having a nice little chat with a man from a popular daily ‘newspaper’ (more on that in a few days folks).

With all that going on, and the way the England team capitulated at Germany in 2006 it is easy to forget that Sven was actually England’s most successful manager since Sir Alf. He only ever lost one qualifying match (a record his successor would have given his teeth-whitening gel for), but he still didn’t actually manage to win anything.

He is now proving that he wasn’t all bad by leading Manchester City into hitherto unchartered waters at the top of the Premier League.

If you really have time here is a strange tribute to Sven from someone with a little too much time on their hands. Otherwise come back tomorrow when a young winger was just beginning to make his way in the world.