Džengis Čavušević the Slovenian born in former Yugoslavia is a rough little bastard. While mainly playing for teams we cannot pronounce, he’s now made his home in quaint little Adelaide.
For his second match in Australia, Čavušević was lucky enough to explore Australia’s most livable city and play against Australia’s biggest club*. After an afternoon of drinking Tumeric Lattes and kale smoothies made by a guy with one really big earring and uncomfortably tight jeans, Džengis got himself into game mode and prepared to take on the Rivalry.
The Melbourne Adelaide Rivalry goes further back than the A-League. The young Adelaide wogs look up to Melbourne, their big Casino, rooftop bars and unlimited shopping while Adelaideans are swimming in their clear beaches and having to deal with a low cost of living. If a young wog (usually Italian or Greek) makes the trek to Melbourne to make something of themselves, the family rejoice! The values of; buy a house, find a family and pop out children are halted. The family then focus on the fact that at every 21st, Wedding, 16th and Christening they get to use the line “Danielle moved to Melbourne, she’s studying fashion!”.
Alternatively Melbourne, like many other Eastern states, believe Adelaide is a little shit hole. However there is a loophole Adelaidean’s experience when crossing paths with Melbournians, which usually goes along the lines of “Oh my cousins live there! They live in [insert suburb here] and goes to [insert school/uni here] do you know them?” and conversation continues from here.
On Saturday Night the Adelaide United team walked right into this. Melbourne Victory struggling for wins this season, probably a combination of their front quartet eating too regularly at Calombaris’ eateries. While stocky little Barbarouses has started to deliver in recent matches, it was only a matter of time til the others followed. Not taking anything away from the Victory, Leroy George was a joy to watch however there was a greater power in play.
Referee Alex King, yes dreamy, golden, tanned Alex King was on Ring Girl duties. He was pretty much only required between rounds. It was visible the VAR’s feelings have been so hurt during recent times, they’ve decided to take a break. Without the VAR the Victory were as aggressive as Mark Bosnich to his twitter followerers.
A little light shirt pulling and throat grabbing early in the first half set the mood for Adelaide’s fall from fourth place. Surprisingly there were no cards during this round of shirt-fronting in which at times both teams were in the wrong. The stand out was the throat grab in which Alex King, an obvious 50 shades fan, deemed to be not card worthy. Throughout the match, King barely reached for the pocket, some instances were slightly more controversial than others however it set a tone for viewers and spectators as how this young referee handles his men.
In the 55th minute, 30 year old Čavušević learnt the A-League is handled a lot differently than when he played ball back in the war-ridden streets of Ljubljana where a punch to the face is just some clean, manly passion. Rhys Williams pushed Džengis Čavušević and in the heat of the moment Čavušević reacted to Williams, with a love tap if you will, slap to the face. King unhappy with the extreme physical interaction, showed Čavušević a red card. Furious, Čavušević debated this with King, at one point even tried to touch the referee -which is where we hid under our blankets in disbelief as watching a European player attempt to talk to one of FFA’s poorly trained robots is like watching a volcano continuously erupt.
Amongst all this, one of Adelaide’s coaching staff, Jacobo Ramallo was shown a yellow which brings Adelaide’s coaching staff tally to a total of 5 so far this season. We believe the coaches have a pool and whoever completes the season with the most cards has to endure a dinner with Greg Griffin.
Unfortunately for Adelaide they lose their hot headed Slovenian Striker for a bit. But luckily for Melbourne Victory, they’re back to winning ways and Kevin Muscat can go back to being the bald headed smug bastard he normally is.