RIP Sepp

 Sepp Piontek was a thoroughly likeable person. Behind the tough guy and the serious angry look there was always a hint of burlesque humour behind his small eyes. He was the perfect boss: demanding and disciplined, but also a kind and friendly spirit. In that sense he was the perfect match for a Danish national team in the 1980s, full of arrogant young superstars who needed both a disciplined manager, as well as one open to their youth indiscretions.

In that regard Piontek turned a second-rate footballing nation into a footballing superpower in the 1980s, taking Denmark to the 1984 Euro semifinals and their first World Cup, in 1986 (incidentally here in Mexico), where the Danish Dynamite awed the world with a fantastic offensive style that Denmark has never managed to replicate. 

Because despite the fact that Denmark won the 1992 Euros (under Piontek's assistant; Richard Møller Nielsen) and made it to the 1998 World Cup quarterfinals, I think that every Dane who witnessed the Danish Dynamite of the 1980s would agree that Piontek's team is the best football team that Denmark has ever had; they never won anything, but they made us dream, and that in the end is what football is all about!

RIP Sepp Piontek. 

My cat is a Gunner

My cat Whisky has been known to enjoy a football match here and then, but yesterday he came out of the cat-closet to show me that he is a Gunner.

I sat down to watch Leeds versus Arsenal and Whisky was soon comfortably seated in front of the TV, something he has done before:

But it did not take long before the fat and lazy bastard became clearly upset at an initial (but eventually feeble) Leeds pressure:

But the Arsenal started to move forward, and Whisky moved forward to support his team:

I had never seen him this committed as I asked him to move aside so that I could watch the match. But as the stubborn cat that he is, he refused to move away as Leeds got a corner kick and Whisky was meowing for the Arsenal defense to stand strong.

Arsenal was soon able to put more pressure on Leeds, and it was the Spaniard Martin Zubimendi, who following a corner kick, brought Arsenal ahead, and Whisky just looked at me with his "I-told-you-so" arrogant cat-look:

Of course, like any fan, he wanted to look at the replay again and again:

The little Gunner-cat was so happy he really wanted to rub in "we are winning, we are winning".

As the reality of Arsenal's dominance became clear, Whisky became satisfied, and he cuddled with me on the couch as Noni Madueke, Viktor Gyokeres and in the end Gabriel Jesus with a splendid strike, gave Arsenal a 0-4 victory that have put the Gunners 6-point clear of Manchester City at the top of the Premier League, and possibly their first Premier League title since 2004.

But just as Whisky, Arsenal must learn not to become too arrogant. With 14 matches left Arsenal must keep their heads cold to take the title.

If they manage to take the title, Whisky will surely be celebrating, while I will be trying to make him shut up.