Kitabı oku: «The Mixer: The Story of Premier League Tactics, from Route One to False Nines», sayfa 3
For a significant period of 1992/93, Norwich were title favourites. They’d been the first Premier League leaders after a surprise 4–2 victory over Arsenal, which appeared nothing more than a freak opening-day result, Norwich having only escaped relegation on the final day of the previous season and being widely tipped for the drop having sold star striker Robert Fleck to Chelsea. However, Norwich’s key man was actually Mike Walker, a likeable, calm, silver-haired Welshman and among the most promising managers in the country. In an era when route one remained dominant, Norwich’s passing football, their tendency to score spectacular goals and their underdog status ensured they became the neutral’s favourite. Other Premier League managers were man-managers and disciplinarians, but Walker loved discussing tactics and offered a clear, forward-thinking philosophy. He’d been dismissed from his only previous managerial job, at Colchester, because his chairman considered Walker’s brand of passing football ‘too soft’ for the lower leagues – despite the fact Colchester were only one point from the top of Division Four. Walker claimed he was ‘happy to win every match 4–3’, although Norwich actually suffered several heavy defeats and, peculiarly, finished in third place despite a goal difference of –4.
Norwich’s default formation was 4–4–2, but it was a flexible system most notable for the advanced positioning of the two full-backs, Mark Bowen and Ian Culverhouse. Right-winger Ruel Fox was among the quickest wingers in the league, central midfielder Ian Crook boasted a fine passing range and Mark Robins banged in the goals up front. They were the Premier League’s first good footballing side, and when they defeated Wimbledon 2–1 in December, their lead at the top was an incredible eight points after 18 games.
But then Norwich somehow failed to score in their next five games, almost proving the old-fashioned British dogma that continental football wasn’t suitable when winter arrived and pitches became boggy. Norwich recovered to play a significant part in the title fight, and started April top of the Premier League once again, with Aston Villa and Manchester United a point behind. The Canaries’ next fixture was a home match against Ferguson’s side, and while Villa couldn’t be ignored, this felt like a title decider. United appeared to be wobbling; winless in four matches, and without suspended centre-forward Hughes. It was widely anticipated that Ferguson would introduce veteran Bryan Robson in central midfield, with Brian McClair returning to the striking role he’d played before Cantona’s arrival.
Instead, McClair stayed in midfield alongside Paul Ince, and Ferguson deployed three natural wingers at Carrow Road, with Andrei Kanchelskis in the same team as Sharpe and Giggs, who essentially played as a centre-forward in advance of Cantona. The outcome was a quite astonishing spell of counter-attacking football, with Norwich dominating possession but United scoring on the break three times in the first 21 minutes.
The goals were incredibly direct. For the opener, Schmeichel typically hurled the ball 40 yards to Sharpe, on the left, who prodded the ball with the outside of his left foot to Cantona, waiting between the lines. The Frenchman controlled the ball, paused briefly as he waited for midfield runners, then played a through-ball that found no fewer than three United players – Sharpe, Ince and Giggs – beating Norwich’s offside trap simultaneously. Giggs collected the ball, rounded goalkeeper Bryan Gunn, could have passed, but rolled the ball home himself. From penalty box to goal in 12 seconds and eight touches.
The second featured even better interplay. Schmeichel moved to collect a loose ball inside the penalty area, but Steve Bruce thumped it to the right – straight to Kanchelskis, who volleyed the ball into the centre circle for Ince, who volleyed it back out to Giggs, who knocked the ball backwards for McClair, whose first-time pass found Kanchelskis running through on goal. The Russian winger had Cantona in support, but dribbled past Gunn and converted. From penalty box to goal again in 14 seconds and nine touches.
Just a minute later, Ince – the man supposedly anchoring the midfield behind five attackers – collected a loose ball in central midfield and immediately stormed past one, two, three challenges, bore down on Gunn and then flicked the ball right for Cantona, who fired into an empty net. This time, the move had only started from midway inside United’s half, but it took nine seconds and six touches for the ball to end up in the net.
The counter-attacking looked so simple; United simply waited for Norwich to push forward, then attacked into space with frightening speed. Each time they broke in behind with multiple players, each time they took Gunn out of the game before converting into an open goal. ‘We were a good counter-attacking side, but our performance exceeded even our own expectations,’ raved Bruce. ‘The speed and incisiveness of our movement, the quality of the passing, it was right out of the top drawer and Norwich couldn’t live with it.’
Ferguson could barely contain his excitement, saying, ‘Some of our football was breathtaking, unbelievable stuff,’ while Cantona later provided the best summary. ‘That was the turning point,’ he said. ‘We played a perfect game. We played perfect football.’ United went on to win the title, and that performance pointed the way to Premier League glory. Had Norwich defeated United and gone on to win the title themselves, their incredible underdog success might have popularised possession football. Instead, inspiration came from United’s speed.
Manchester United’s first Premier League title was achieved when things fell into place almost accidentally, but the following season, 1993/94, saw them reach a different level entirely. Players often remark upon the difficulty of defending a title – there’s less motivation to succeed, and opponents up their game against the champions – but Ferguson, who had retained the Scottish title with Aberdeen in the mid-1980s, astutely ensured his players maintained their desire. Before the start of the campaign he announced to United’s squad that he had a sealed envelope in his office drawer, containing a piece of paper with a list of players he believed lacked the hunger to win a second title. The trick proved highly effective, with his players determined to prove him wrong.
Ferguson, typically for this period, canvassed the views of his players about potential new recruits, and after they unanimously agreed that Nottingham Forest’s Roy Keane was a top-class midfielder, Ferguson broke the British transfer record to make one of his most important signings. This changed the balance of United – with McClair relegated to the bench, Keane formed a brilliantly aggressive, combative central midfield partnership with Ince. Cantona’s influence was naturally greater because he was present from the outset, while Giggs became a greater goal threat from the left and Kanchelskis, peripheral in the previous campaign, was outstanding down the right. Such was the emphasis upon battling central midfielders and electric wingers, some journalists depicted United’s formation as 4–2–4, although in reality it was a 4–4–1–1, and not dissimilar to the 4–2–3–1 that only became a recognised Premier League system a decade later.
United were utterly dominant throughout 1993/94. Within the opening fortnight they’d won away at their two title rivals from the previous campaign, Norwich and Aston Villa, and topped the table from the end of August onwards. They only lost twice until the end of March, both against Chelsea – although United defeated them 4–0 in the FA Cup Final, which clinched the club’s first-ever double. Ferguson’s first-choice XI played together 13 times, and won 13 times.
Subsequent United teams would become more cultured, particularly when Paul Scholes and David Beckham emerged to provide passing quality from midfield, which helped United progress in Europe. But in Premier League terms, Ferguson’s 1993/94 first-choice XI was perfectly suited to the week-in, week-out challenges of a division still based around physical football, with tough tackles, poor pitches and 42 games – four more than from 1995/96 onwards, when the division was reduced from 22 to 20 teams. They were ‘real tough bastards’ in Ferguson’s words, and he later suggested that his 1993/94 side were as good as the treble winners of five years later.
Manchester United’s 4–4–1–1, with combative central midfielders and speedsters out wide, would essentially become the standard tactical template throughout the Premier League’s first decade. The difficult part for teams hoping to follow in their footsteps, however, was obvious: finding their Cantona.
3
The SAS & The Entertainers
‘I’ll tell you, honestly, I will love it if we beat them. Love it.’
Kevin Keegan
Sir Alex Ferguson famously described his greatest challenge at Manchester United as ‘knocking Liverpool right off their fucking perch’. He had turned United into English football’s dominant side, and they would eventually overtake Liverpool in terms of league titles. During the mid-90s, however, United’s greatest title fights were not against Liverpool, but against clubs managed by two ex-Liverpool forwards: Kenny Dalglish’s Blackburn Rovers in 1994/95 and Kevin Keegan’s Newcastle United in 1995/96.
Under these managers, Blackburn and Newcastle did everything a year apart. Dalglish had taken charge of second-tier Blackburn in 1991 and achieved promotion in 1992. Keegan took charge of second-tier Newcastle in 1992 and won promotion in 1993. Blackburn hadn’t won the championship since 1928, Newcastle not since 1927. There were similarities between Keegan and Dalglish, too; they were born within a month of one another in 1951, and when Keegan left Liverpool for Hamburg in 1977, his replacement up front was Dalglish.
Tactically, both sides played 4–4–2, concentrating upon width, crosses and a towering number 9, and there was also a common link in defensive midfielder David Batty, who came into the side towards the end of both Blackburn’s 1994/95 triumph and Newcastle’s 1995/96 campaign. Both clubs, meanwhile, suffered a significant late-season slump during their title challenge. That might sound peculiar, considering Blackburn triumphed in 1994/95 and Newcastle are remembered as ‘bottlers’ for blowing a 12-point lead the following season, but Blackburn’s collapse had been equally dramatic. They contrived to lose three of their final five games during their title-winning season, including a dramatic final-day defeat at Anfield, where even Liverpool supporters wanted Blackburn to win, to deny rivals Manchester United another title and to witness Dalglish, an Anfield legend, lift the trophy.
Left-back Graeme Le Saux later outlined the extent of Blackburn’s nerves in the final weeks, admitting that the players became obsessed with Manchester United and claiming that Dalglish didn’t know how to control the situation. At half-time on that final day at Anfield, winger Stuart Ripley sat down in the dressing room and declared he was so nervous he couldn’t get his legs to work properly. Blackburn were saved by Manchester United’s failure to win away at West Ham. In the ‘bottling it’ stakes, therefore, there was minimal difference between Blackburn in 1994/95 and Newcastle in 1995/96 – aside from the fact that Dalglish convinced the outside world he had things under control, while Keegan had a meltdown live on TV with his famous ‘I will love it if we beat them’ rant.
Dalglish and Keegan were primarily man-managers and motivators rather than tacticians or training-ground coaches; they attracted players through their reputation as legendary players and broadly left them to their own devices. The most significant difference was the nature of their assistants. Dalglish’s only previous managerial post was at Liverpool, where he maintained the pass-and-move football his predecessors had introduced. At Blackburn, however, he was starting from scratch, and with more limited players, so his approach was much simpler. Dalglish decided he wouldn’t take charge of Blackburn without Ray Harford, widely considered one of the most intelligent, inventive English coaches of his generation.
Harford boasted managerial experience, having been promoted from assistant to manager at Fulham, Luton (where he won the League Cup) and Wimbledon. He would later succeed Dalglish at Blackburn, too. His Luton and Wimbledon sides were renowned for their direct football, and he provided the coaching expertise that Dalglish lacked for creating a straightforward but effective crossing side. Dalglish said his ‘coaching, organisation, his deep knowledge of football’ made him the perfect assistant, and Harford took almost every Blackburn training session, concentrating heavily upon ‘pattern of play’ sessions that improved Blackburn’s passing and movement.
Keegan, on the other hand, appointed his old Liverpool teammate Terry McDermott. Not only did McDermott, like Keegan, boast absolutely no previous coaching experience, he also had no coaching badges, had no intention of becoming a coach and had recently been spotted manning a burger van at a racecourse. ‘He’s not here in any capacity other than to help the atmosphere of the club,’ said Keegan, who personally paid for McDermott’s employment from his own salary. McDermott concentrated on taking players aside after training and improving a specific part of their technique. Blackburn had an assistant manager who took every training session and focused upon the collective, while Newcastle’s assistant manager didn’t take any sessions and focused upon individuals. Ultimately, that was a perfect microcosm of the sides’ approaches.
Blackburn were new kids on the block. Before the Premier League era they hadn’t featured in the top flight since before England won the World Cup, even dropping into the third tier during the 1970s. Their sudden rise owed much to the wealth of Jack Walker, a Blackburn-born millionaire who had inherited Walkersteel, a scrap-metal business, from his father and turned it into the largest steel stockholder in Britain. His munificence explains how second-tier Blackburn managed to attract Dalglish, already a multiple title winner as both player and manager with Liverpool, and how, having won promotion in time for the Premier League’s inaugural campaign, they promptly finished fourth, second and then first. Dalglish insists Blackburn’s title wasn’t solely about Walker’s millions, with some justification – although the signings of centre-forwards Alan Shearer and Chris Sutton both broke the record for the highest transfer fee paid by a British club. Both were old-fashioned number 9s who thrived on crosses, in keeping with Blackburn’s simple footballing approach, and they quickly became nicknamed ‘the SAS’ because of their ruthlessness in front of goal. They contributed 49 goals during Blackburn’s title-winning campaign and remain arguably the Premier League’s most famous strike partnership. Their off-field relationship, however, was less successful.
When Shearer signed for Blackburn in 1992 he was befriended by new strike partner Mike Newell on a pre-season tour of Scotland, and as he waited for his wife to move to Lancashire he spent plenty of time at Newell’s house. It was a classic footballing friendship; they played golf together, they travelled to training together, they were roommates on away trips and their great relationship continued on the pitch. Newell had previously been an out-and-out striker, but after Blackburn recruited the country’s hottest young goalscorer, Newell adjusted and played a deeper, supporting role. ‘He was an ideal striking partner, so unselfish and willing to cover every blade of grass,’ Shearer said. ‘Sometimes he gave the impression he would rather lay on goals for me than score himself … with him just behind the attack, opposition teams would push a defender out to mark him and that would give me more room in which to operate. He was a big reason for my success.’ Shearer won the Golden Boot in three of the first five Premier League seasons, and finished on a record 260 Premier League goals.
The arrival of Sutton, who had only recently become a permanent centre-forward at Norwich having often played in defence, changed things in two ways. Most obviously, Newell was the major victim and started just twice in Blackburn’s title-winning season. Meanwhile, Sutton stole Shearer’s thunder, taking his status as Britain’s most expensive player. He briefly became Blackburn’s highest-paid player, too, although Blackburn immediately handed Shearer a rise to reflect his seniority. ‘Suddenly, Alan was being asked to play with a guy who wanted to score as many goals as him,’ said Le Saux. ‘That was when I saw a side of Alan that I wasn’t keen on … Alan knew his relationship with Mike revolved around himself, and neither he nor Mike reacted well when Chris broke up their partnership.’
Sutton, a fearsome striker but a sensitive character who occasionally lacked confidence, later recalled the ‘lack of warmth’ from Shearer, blaming his friendship with Newell. When Sutton hit a hat-trick in a 4–0 victory over Coventry in Blackburn’s third game of the season, he was upset when Shearer didn’t celebrate with him. Publically, Dalglish insisted there were no problems between his two star strikers, but with Blackburn’s attacking play no longer based entirely around him, Shearer wasn’t best pleased.
It was nevertheless a stunningly effective strike partnership. Blackburn’s opening goal of their title-winning season, away at Southampton, set the scene. Captain Tim Sherwood lofted a long pass into the box, Sutton nodded the ball down, and Shearer smashed the ball home. Simple, but effective. Blackburn now had two strikers in the penalty box whenever possible, and without Newell playing the link role, focused heavily on getting the ball wide and sending in a stream of crosses.
As much as the SAS, Blackburn’s football was defined by their two wingers. Right-sided Stuart Ripley and left-sided Jason Wilcox were classic, touchline-hugging dribblers who sprinted to the byline and hung crosses into the box. As Dalglish put it, they were ‘proper wingers, not wide midfielders’. Nor were they goalscorers like Manchester United’s pairing of Ryan Giggs and Andrei Kanchelskis, who were capable of reaching double figures in a season, but rather facilitators, assisters and, unlike many wingers, extremely hard workers without the ball. Blackburn’s central midfielders, Sherwood and Mark Atkins (who played the majority of the season before being replaced by Batty, who returned from injury for the final five games), pushed forward in turn, the other protecting the defence. Sherwood was better in possession, Atkins cool in front of goal – the best finisher at the club, according to Dalglish – but they seldom played through-balls and instead passed calmly out wide. It was a system ‘designed for a centre-forward to score goals’, as Shearer said.
Critics claimed Blackburn’s approach play was too predictable, but opponents found it difficult to stop, partly because of the cohesive interplay stemming from the training sessions directed by Harford, whose favourite phrase was simply ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’ Blackburn’s training ground, incidentally, was astonishingly basic: a patch of land covered in dog mess, with no changing facilities. The players drove to Ewood Park, got changed, then drove to training. Most problematically, the training ground was adjacent to a cemetery, so sessions were frequently interrupted out of respect when a hearse slowly crept up the driveway. Harford’s ‘pattern of play’ sessions involved Blackburn lining up in their 4–4–2 formation on the training pitch, and practising their build-up play. Their passing and movement was very structured and always ended with Blackburn working the ball into crossing positions.
There were three major approaches. Ideally, Blackburn found a winger in a position to dribble forward, their most obvious route to goal. If not, the wingers were instructed to come short, bringing the opposition full-back up the pitch and allowing Shearer or Sutton to drift wide into space. Shearer implored Sutton to do the majority of the running so he could remain in the penalty box, but actually became an excellent crosser himself, ending the campaign as Blackburn’s most prolific assister as well as their top scorer. Finally, Dalglish and Harford recognised that full-backs were the players with the most time on the ball when 4–4–2 played 4–4–2, invariably the battle of formations during this period. Right-back Henning Berg was more of a converted centre-back, so there was a huge emphasis on left-back Le Saux to push forward, and he had a fine relationship with Wilcox and Shearer, supplying many key assists, most notably hanging a cross up for Shearer to nod home in Blackburn’s penultimate match of the campaign, a 1–0 victory over Newcastle.
Crucially, Harford demanded that crosses were played from what he termed ‘the magic box’, the space in the final 18 yards, as if the penalty area extended across the entire width of the pitch. Shearer disagreed with this concept and was confident he could convert crosses played from deeper – the type of ball David Beckham would later supply him with at international level – but Harford believed crosses from advanced positions created better chances, and Wilcox and Ripley depended upon getting into this ‘magic box’ to a staggering extent. Midway through the title-winning season, Dalglish called Ripley aside in training and attempted to devise a plan B. Eventually, he reasoned, opposition full-backs would work out Blackburn’s plan and usher Ripley and Wilcox inside. In that situation, 40 yards from goal, in a narrower position and forced onto his weaker foot, Dalglish asked where Ripley wanted the strikers to position themselves to be a target for crosses. Ripley looked at him blankly. ‘Are you taking the piss?’ he asked. No, insisted Dalglish. Ripley thought about it some more. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. The thought had never occurred to him; Blackburn’s wingers literally only knew how to play one way.
Blackburn’s tactical naivety was highlighted when they encountered continental opposition. In the opening round of the UEFA Cup, the club’s first-ever game in European competition, they were drawn against Swedish part-timers Trelleborg. The nature of Trelleborg read like a stereotypical ‘European minnow’ checklist; they boasted just one full-time professional footballer, alongside a carpenter, a shopkeeper and an insurance salesman. They’d recently lost a domestic cup tie to third-division opposition, and had progressed through the UEFA Cup qualifying round with an unspectacular victory over the champions of the Faroe Islands. They arrived at Ewood Park to discover their kit clashed with Blackburn’s, so were forced to borrow Rovers’ red away shorts. Journalists had researched Blackburn’s record victory, suspecting it could be surpassed, while the Swedes later claimed they would have considered a 2–0 defeat a decent result. Instead, Trelleborg’s Frederik Sandell latched onto strike partner Joachim Karlsson’s flick-on to score the game’s only goal. Trelleborg defended deeper than anyone Blackburn faced in the Premier League and focused on doubling up against Blackburn’s wingers. ‘If you were organised you could stop them,’ said captain Jonas Brorsson.
‘There was potentially a bit of naivety in the way we played,’ Ripley later recalled. ‘We were steamrollering teams in England and I think we tried to do the same, but they came with a defensive formation and nicked the win.’ Le Saux, meanwhile, admitted Blackburn’s style didn’t suit European competition. The second leg finished 2–2 – the SAS both scored close-range efforts in the aftermath of set-pieces – and ten-man Trelleborg progressed 3–2 on aggregate. The early exit emphasised English clubs’ tactical inadequacy, but allowed Blackburn to concentrate on domestic football.
There were no defining victories during Blackburn’s title campaign – they lost home and away to their closest challengers, Manchester United, and stuttered badly during the run-in, but their simple approach proved enough to consistently defeat run-of-the-mill Premier League sides. Blackburn weren’t doing anything different, they were simply doing it in an extremely cohesive manner, with excellent players. Six of their starting XI (goalkeeper Tim Flowers, commanding centre-back Colin Hendry plus Le Saux, Sherwood, Sutton and Shearer) featured in the PFA Team of the Year, which was announced before Blackburn sealed their title.
Manchester United had clinched the first two Premier League titles anticlimactically when rivals slipped up, but 14 May 1995 was truly memorable, as the Premier League’s first final-day decider. Blackburn went 1–0 up at Liverpool when Shearer typically converted Ripley’s right-wing cross, and had Rovers maintained that scoreline, they were champions regardless of United’s result. But Liverpool produced an unlikely turnaround, with Jamie Redknapp’s superb late free-kick confirming a 2–1 home victory. Dalglish spent much of the second half watching a TV close to the dugouts, showing the action from Manchester United’s game at Upton Park: Sir Alex Ferguson’s decision to play a lone striker backfired, and West Ham’s Ludĕk Mikloško provided one of the Premier League’s all-time great goalkeeping displays. United could only draw 1–1, which meant Blackburn’s defeat was irrelevant – they were champions. Dalglish was congratulated by old friends from Liverpool’s backroom staff, Shearer and Sutton warmly embraced, Sherwood lifted the trophy.
For all this incredible drama, Blackburn’s previous visit to Merseyside was more significant stylistically. On April Fools’ Day, Blackburn stormed into an early 2–0 lead at Everton; the first goal came inside 13 seconds, then the quickest to date in the Premier League, when Berg’s long ball was headed on by Sutton, then by Shearer, and Sutton fired home. The second came after a free-kick found Sutton, who stumbled and allowed Shearer to fire home. It was textbook Blackburn. But then, after Graham Stuart got Everton back into the game with a stupendous chip, Blackburn embarked upon a remarkably blatant display of cynical football, concentrating upon breaking up play and time wasting. It was an incredibly fierce, frantic contest, with the highlight an incredible goalmouth scramble in front of Tim Flowers, which featured no fewer than 14 players inside Blackburn’s six-yard box. The climax saw Shearer thumping a clearance so far that he nearly sent the ball out of Goodison Park entirely. At full-time, Everton’s fans booed Blackburn off. Dalglish couldn’t care less about whether opposition supporters appreciated his side’s style of play. To him it was three points, and job done.
In stark contrast, when Kevin Keegan was asked for his favourite memory from Newcastle’s ‘nearly’ campaign of 1995/96, he recalled his players being applauded onto the pitch by opposition fans during the final few days of the season, away at Leeds and Nottingham Forest. Dalglish called his Blackburn side the ‘people’s champions’, playing on their underdog status, but Newcastle were the true neutral’s favourite, a team who played enthralling, attack-minded football. Keegan’s impact during this period was incredible; he took the club from the bottom-half of the second tier to the top of the Premier League, galvanising a whole city. Newcastle’s shirts displayed the blue star of the Newcastle Brown Ale logo, their goalkeeper’s shirt during 1995/96 depicted the city’s skyline, while Keegan spoke about the club’s cultural importance to the city in a manner that recalled Barcelona. At times their football was comparable too, and Newcastle were referred to as, simply, The Entertainers.
Newcastle earned that nickname a couple of seasons earlier, with a 4–2 victory over Sheffield Wednesday, but 1995/96 took things to a new level, and Newcastle’s title challenge was somehow befitting of British pop culture at the time. 1996 was the year of England hosting, and threatening to win, Euro 96, soundtracked by Baddiel and Skinner’s ‘Three Lions’. 1996 was when Britpop still reigned supreme. 1996 saw the launch of Chris Evans’s TFI Friday, a programme based largely around wackiness, and the debut of the loud, extroverted Spice Girls. 1996 was the year of Trainspotting, a film about a group of heroin addicts that managed to become a feelgood story. Somehow 1997 felt very different, a melancholy year dominated by the film Titanic, Radiohead’s OK Computer and the death of Princess Diana. 1996 was about mad-for-it extravagance, and here were Keegan’s Newcastle, The Entertainers, playing all-out-attack football with no regard for the consequences.
Newcastle started the season, like Blackburn the previous year, with tactics based around crossing. Left-winger David Ginola was signed from Paris Saint-Germain and bamboozled opposition right-backs with his pace and ambidexterity, able to receive the ball with his back to goal, before spinning either way, cutting inside or going down the touchline. He won Player of the Month immediately. On the opposite flank Keith Gillespie was a typical winger of that period, always reaching the byline. Keegan’s instructions to his wingers were simple: new signing Les Ferdinand was the best target man in the business, and he was to be supplied with constant crosses. ‘The way the side was playing, with Ginola on the left and Gillespie on the right, was ideal for a striker like me,’ Ferdinand recalled. ‘Both David and Keith were raining balls into the penalty area from all over the place.’
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