bhurst99

This is going to be good.

He hasn't played up to his potential this season but he's definitely a great up and coming talent.

Liverpool vs Reading, League Game Eight [video=youtube;VnkOpPK5XwI]

Despite our 1-1-1 record and the fact we've allowed more goals than we've scored, we're still in position to advance from our Europa League group. Here's a complete look at all the group standings after three of six games. .

Bayer vs Liverpool, Europa Group Game Three [video=youtube;h6mNd0f5dUM]

Liverpool vs Norwich, Game Seven [video=youtube;E2wDorqi7-8]

Lots of angry players this week. Agger has played well for us. He's not going anywhere. We're not that deep on defense since our new acquisition Rolando is playing like garbage and Carragher is so old he needs a wheelchair to roll around the pitch. Kelly hasn't been impressive. If anything this is an area we need to shore up in the January transfer window. We're leaking goals like crazy and only Reina has saved us from dropping more points.

"Star man"? Not yet. We'll try to get him into our next Liverpool game against Norwich. He was effective the last time he played, Sept. 27, in the Europa game against AIK, scoring the winner in the 63rd minute.

Here's a look at England's stats. There isn't another qualifier until February.

July 28, 2012 What in the world have I done? It was the thought that rattled around Bryan Hurst's brain when he shook the hand of Ralph Wilson at the podium as dozens of cameras flashed. Hurst had just been introduced as the new general manager and coach of the Buffalo Bills at a hastily called press conference in the depths of Ralph Wilson stadium and he was full of self-doubt. It had been nearly a week since he received a phone call out of the blue from the 93-year owner asking if he was interested in returning to the NFL. He would have been less surprised if an alien the Mars Rover uncovered in the rocks had tried to phone him. Hurst was so far removed from the NFL when Wilson called him he didn't even know the Bills win-loss record from the previous season or most of the names of the players on the roster. He hadn't coached in the NFL since 2009 when he led a talented Philadelphia Eagles team to a disappointing 9-7 record and was abruptly fired after just one season. http://www.operationsports.com/forums/football-dynasties/332525-philadelphia-eagles-madden-09-a.html The firing sent him into a depression. He questioned his own decisions, his own thoughts. Why had he punted on fourth and three? Why hadn't he blitzed more? He tossed and turned re-living every moment of the season. He had watched every game of that failed season at least a dozen times in the month after he was fired. Had every decision he had made during his life that led him to that point been wrong? Had all the time he spent learning football been a complete waste of time? His friends in high school and college were now doctors, lawyers and teachers. They had fallen in love and had families. What did he have? Failure, nothing but crushing failure in both his professional and personnel life. His life seemed nothing but a series of cruel jokes. Incredible opportunities would fall in his lap but he was incapable of spinning those opportunities into success. He was an abject failure at everything he touched. There had been nothing like the spotlight of being a NFL coach. The highs were as soaring as a view from Mount Everest. After a win when you walked across the field and shook the other coach's hand, there was no feeling like it. You were the conqueror who had strategically led his troops to victory. No one commanded respect like a NFL coach. There were only 32 jobs like it in the world and having one of them was like holding gold in your hand. Wilson had asked Hurst on the telephone only one question nearly a week ago: How far was he willing to go to be coach and general manager? Hurst nearly laughed as he looked around at his one-bedroom condominium unit overflowing with empty beer, gin and rum bottles that he couldn't find the energy to take back to the liquor store. He didn't hesitate: "Anything. You name it, Mr. Wilson." Wilson then dropped the bombshell: Hurst would have input into the personnel decisions but Wilson would have the final say on all decisions. Hurst was going to be just a figure head as general manager, treating all of Wilson's decisions as his own and defending them -- if needed -- in the media as his own. Unbelievable. No wonder Wilson was offering him the job. No one else would ever agree to those terms. He was a football coach not a Hollywood actor. For a moment, Hurst contemplated rejecting Wilson but the more he thought about it, the more he couldn't find a decent reason to say no. Most coaches don't get to make personnel decisions. Most coaches are stuck with the players the general manager drafts and signs. He was no actor, but during the past two years when Hurst had tried to ease his pain and self-loathing with booze, hadn't he convinced his remaining friends and family that he was stable? If he could be a functional alcoholic couldn't he also wear the disguise of pretend general manager? He could make this work. The gold was going to be back in his hands. He was going to be somebody again. "I'm your man, Mr. Wilson," he had told the Bills owner on the telephone that day. But once the press conference that announced his signing was complete and he posed for photographs, Hurst came face-to-face with Wilson for the first time and realized this was an impossible situation. He knew Wilson's age but when he pictured Wilson in his mind's eye when he spoke with him on the telephone he imagined someone in their 70's, a grandfatherly type. But now he realized he was thinking of someone 20 years younger than the man before him. What a fool he was! Hurst had no doubt Wilson still had all his faculties and was oriented to time and space. This was no Alzheimer's patient; he still had a sharp wit and a great memory. But how in the world could he take on all the work of a general manager? How could he evaluate talent effectively? This was bound to result in catastrophic failure. He couldn't make this work. Every week he defended Wilson's moves as his own he was going to be laughed around the league at as an idiot. He would never work in football again. Hurst needed a drink now. A couple of rye and cokes would help him sort things out.

Austria vs England, World Cup Qualifier [video=youtube;LwKaQKFKdNw]

I've got two win and a draw in three games as England's manager and this is the love I get?!? I guess I can't please everyone.

July 22, 2012 Ralph Wilson read the words "cleaned house" in the media report and immediately turned off his computer in disgust. He hated that phrase. "Cleaned house" ignored the feelings and complexities of the people dismissed. These were the people who spent seven days a week planning for the next game, stayed up until 3 am in the morning watching game tape, fell asleep from exhaustion in their office. They were the face of the franchise in front of the media. They sacrificed much of their family life for the club. It was no wonder why so many football people were divorced. There was nothing worse than telling a coach or a general manager that he was a failure in your eyes. When Wilson had dismissed someone in the past, he could see in their eyes that he had ripped out their heart and soul. It was an awful feeling to prepare yourself to fire someone. You stayed awake for days before telling a coach your decision, rehearsing your speech in your nightmares, struggling to find the right words to thank them for their service and tell them they had 30 minutes to clean out their desk and leave. It was an impossible contradiction: Thank you for your time, we appreciated that you sacrificed seeing your kids grow up for the club. Now get lost. Destroying a man's spirit should never be referred to simply as "cleaning house" But terminating the contracts of Buffalo Bills general manager Buddy Nix and coach Chad Gailey was a necessary evil. Wilson couldn't afford to have them carry on through another failed, mediocre season. His time left on this Earth was short. If Wilson was going to take the blame for the failures of the franchise you better believe he was not going to sit around and delegate football decisions. He had always stayed in the shadows, allowing the general manager, his assistants and the coaching staff to make decisions he rarely questioned while he simply signed the cheques. And how had that worked out? No playoffs for the past 12 years. No championships since joining the NFL. Wilson didn't want to be the general manager alone. He knew he needed strong football minds around. He had seen the disaster that accompanied fellow owners Al Davis and Jerry Jones when they attempted to make their teams' personnel decisions. He simply wanted more control over what happened on the field and for once the final say. He was aware of the limitations of his age and the demands the job required. He was determined to do as much as he possibly could with every breath he had left to personally turn around this team. He was going to make this his final mission of his life. It gave him energy just thinking about it. Wilson knew no one could ever know that he was in charge of personnel decisions. If that leaked the fans would revolt. The very same fans whom he loved and adored and wanted to reward with a championship would never stand for the idea of a 93-year old taking charge of the football decisions. He would be a laughing stock. He had to stay in the shadows. He needed someone willing to take the title of general manager but not have all of that position's powers, more of an advisor than a real general manager. And he desperately needed that person to do it in complete secrecy, never revealing the truth and defend Wilson's decisions as though they were his own. Wilson thought it best that the same person be named both general manager and coach as coaching the team on a day-to-day basis would provide more of a distraction and make it less likely he would meddle in Wilson's decisions. He smiled as he considered his project. Wilson leaned back in his chair and restarted his computer. He knew the perfect person to contact for the job.

England vs Turkey, World Cup Qualifier [video=youtube;9zQFq8j-1mQ]

July 15, 2012 No matter how much he convinced himself he was ready for the end he still feared the pain, the unknowing, the helplessness of it all. It raced through his mind again: He was going to die. It was God's great equalizer. No matter who you were, how much or how little you had, every man faced the same fate. There was no escape. No one to bargain with, no deals to be made. It was final. It wasn't a thought 93-year old Ralph Wilson liked to contemplate. He knew he had led a rich, full life -- World War II veteran, successful businessman, husband and father. He had been elected to the NFL Hall of Fame as a builder for his role in the AFL and NFL as the Buffalo Bills owner. Even the stadium where he his team played bore his name. He couldn't have wished for a better life. By any measure, it had been extraordinary. There were so many mornings he told himself he was ready for the next world, ready as any man could possibly be for death. That the nagging pains of old age were too much to bear. That once your body deteriorated to a certain point you were no longer living; you were just surviving. But he knew all that was a lie. There was so much beauty in this world, so much to cherish. He loved the crisp Autumn Sundays when Ralph Wilson Stadium was so alive. Grinning fathers and sons tossing footballs in the parking lot before games. The smell of sausages cooking on open grills. The sound of laughter between friends, the roar of crowds at kickoff. The electricity of it all! Football was more than just a sport in western New York. It was part of the very fabric of the community. If you lived in Buffalo it was an integral part of your identity. It didn't matter if you were black or white, female or male, a lawyer or a warehouse worker. Everyone was united on Sunday. Everyone wanted a win for their Buffalo Bills. The Bills were his greatest accomplishment and his greatest failure. He had founded the team, kept the Bills alive when the steel and manufacturing industry collapsed and the city's population decreased to the point that in 2000 its population was less than it was in 1900. He had done it with the lowest ticket prices in the NFL. The team soared to great heights and was the talk of the NFL when it became the first and only team to appear in four consecutive Super Bowls between 1990 and 1993. But that was a long, long time ago. The four losses in the Super Bowl had cemented the city's inferiority complex. To make matters worse the team had missed the playoffs 12 consecutive years, an eternity. He had refused to accept his Hall of Fame award at the half time of a home game as scheduled because he feared he would be booed and cursed. He heard the chatter grow louder everyday that the team would be better off with new owners, better after he was dead! This team that had brought him such happiness and such joy to the community was now bringing him hatred. How could that have happened? It was impossible! Ralph Wilson looked out the window of his executive office at the sun-drenched empty stadium. He pictured the stadium full of fans standing and cheering wildly like they had in the 1990s. He promised himself he would see that again before he died. He was going to turn this football team around. He had signed one of the best defensive players in the league, defensive end Mario Williams to a six-year, $100-million dollar contract. He didn't care if people thought it was too much money tied up for one player. It was his money. His name was not going to become synonymous with losing. He was going to go out a winner and he was prepared to make one more change to make sure that happened. Death was going to have to wait a little longer.