Good read.....John Moss - wanker!!

Manchester City forward Gabriel Jesus' injury reveals the cruel, cold world of the Premier League

Stephen Tudor  - 4 hours ago

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Crocked players are often made to feel isolated from the group and this period on the sidelines will test the Brazilian's resolve

AT the midway-point through the first half of Manchester City’s sign off to 2017, Gabriel Jesus fell to the ground in increments, his legs split acrobatically. Referees boast of being able to tell the difference between a serious injury and a player hamming it up to get an opponent carded and here was a textbook example of the former with exaggerated movement kept to a minimum and scant gesticulation. Instead, there was mainly stillness, worrying stillness, as the 20-year-old lay crumpled on the Selhurst Park turf. One arm was raised seeking the urgent attention of authority and assistance; the other clutched a knee that seared in pain. His grimaced face was a study in anguish: eyes burning with fear; eyebrows furrowed to a dramatic degree; his mouth Wallace-and-Gromited. With play suspended the match-day official Jon Moss duly approached.
We can only suppose what form the ensuing conversation took but Moss did most of the talking with the young Brazilian restricted to the basics of a second language and besides, Jesus was far too preoccupied with the agony that was bursting from his left leg and internally dealing with the sudden realisation that his life-defining season – capped off with a World Cup next summer – was in serious jeopardy. Agitated Blues and neutrals, meanwhile, awaited the inevitable onrush of the City medical team.
Yet no physio was beckoned on. Not at first and not for a long time. This was extremely odd given that we’ve all seen this scenario play out many thousands of times, even on occasion involving players who are clearly faking distress late in a game in order to waste time. A player stays down and he is granted medical care, as illustrated mere minutes later when Crystal Palace defender Scott Dann was stricken in similar fashion and Moss urgently motioned to the home side’s bench. Without exception, this is the long established MO, because referees have a duty of care and quite why Moss decided to deviate from this with Jesus is beyond common reasoning.

Just imagine, if you will, these harrowing moments from Jesus’ perspective. A kid playing on the other side of the world, at an age when most regard a foreign holiday without parents as an adventure, collapses while enacting the special talent that has brought him to this scary foreign land. His mum and best mates are two hundred miles away, the rest of his family are half a globe away, and in this personal nadir, all he wants is to see a familiar face to allay his fears or confirm them, all the while helping to alleviate the immense physical pain that has levelled him. Above him stands an authority figure, in loco parentis at this juncture and a former headmaster to boot. Speaking in a peculiar accent that is difficult to understand the authority figure denies him medical aid.
Not for the first time, and presumably not for the last, it could be said that Jon Moss is deficient at his profession.
When the medical team was finally ushered on, they tentatively stretched and massaged and elicited as much information as they could from a youngster in visible discomfort. They then allowed him to play on making it three times since Pep Guardiola’s arrival that a small group of extremely proficient physiotherapists – presumably among the very elite in their trade – have examined knee concerns and given the green light for each player to immediately resume. On all three occasions – with Gundogan last term, Mendy in September, and now with Jesus – the player in question hobbled off shortly after, nursing a long-term injury only exacerbated by further twists, turns and sprints.
When it was Jesus’ turn to succumb to the unavoidable truth, he gave Moss no choice, falling close to the touchline, and as he was led away that’s when the tears began to fall too. It was heart-breaking to see him sob out his heartbreak, at that moment probably feeling that his dreams and raison d’etre were being snatched from him. At that moment too the City fans in the away end began to sing out loud. “Sergio, Sergio, Sergio, Sergio”.

If including this here comes across as criticism of the travelling Blues who had got up in the middle of the night and travelled three-quarters of the M1 to support their team, then it isn’t intended as such. This is football. For one thing, they couldn’t see Jesus’ tears, with Aguero far more visible as he warmed up jumping on the spot. For another thing, there was a match that needed to be won and the Argentine – so often City’s saviour – was recently out of form and in requirement of vocal encouragement.
Painfully and pertinently however, this sudden shifting of attention illustrates what Jesus must endure on a long journey undertaken away from the spotlight.
Right now there is relief all round, at a diagnosis that reveals medial collateral ligament damage that necessitates no surgery and with an accompanying return date pencilled in for six to ten to weeks. It is ‘good’ news that is being written about on threads topping page one of club forums.
After tonight’s game though, and certainly in the weeks to come as a four-way challenge for silverware intensifies, those threads will slip down out of sight, out of prominence, not only replaced by debates on Aguero’s well-being but speculation on who might come in to replace the absent Brazilian. Might it be Sanchez? Could it even by Dybala?
Again there is no slight intended and the same goes for the heightened concern for Kevin De Bruyne on New Year’s Eve that dwarfed the worry that was reserved for Jesus because one has been utterly sensational in recent weeks, while the other’s impact has faded. This is football and absolutely no reflection on the love that Blues have for their superstarlet forward. An acrobat stumbles and the circus simply moves on to the next town, leaving him behind.


I’m Not Really Here, the autobiography of former City midfielder Paul Lake, who was cruelly denied a career of greatness by injury, acutely details the alienation that occurs when a first team player endures a long-term lay-off. You’re present but you’re not. You’re important but you’re not. It is a hinterland that is incredibly hard to process, not forgotten as such but demoted to the periphery. Successes become vicarious and inevitably a detachment takes place between the group, combatting all manner of trials and tribulations on the pitch every weekend and the player on the side-lines. In a recent interview with BT Sport, John Terry revealed that Jose Mourinho used to blank him when he was unavailable, even when he was captain. Perhaps that is an extreme example (though this was standard practise for Brian Clough too) but acts as further suggestion that in the cold world of football all that ultimately matters is a player’s contribution.
It is a psychological shift that the 20-year-old Jesus must adapt to and quickly, in a country and culture that is still unfamiliar to him. Prior to attempting an unorthodox controlling of the ball at Selhurst Park he was the man. Now – for the time being at least – he is not and he must watch his mates revel in the camaraderie of victory and celebration as a quite spectacular season unfolds.
Foreign players eh; pampered prima-donnas, over-paid and entitled. There is a flip-side, and it’s one I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.