There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.82 at 34, and nobody on the pitch was better.
13 home matches unbeaten. Visiting sides arrive already talking about the atmosphere, which is usually the sign that they have half-lost before kickoff.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at Basel is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
The shirt still fits. Breel Kobel is back at Basel, and half the ground remembers him in these colours already. Some signings need selling to the town; this one sold itself.
Defending was optional and nobody took up the option. 6 goals between Basel and Luzern, and not one of the people who paid to be there will ask for the money back.
Marked 9.63 — the sort of number a correspondent writes down twice to be sure. Everything he tried came off, and what he did not try was not worth trying.
In brief
SquadA move Breel Kobel would have made for nothing
“This is not anger. I have thought about it for months, and nothing that has happened lately changed my mind.” The request is on a desk at Basel, and it is not being withdrawn.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 7.92 at 37, and nobody on the pitch was better.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Philipp Comert will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around Basel the goodbyes have quietly begun.
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
35 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. Basel lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” Basel have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
The name of Fabian Seferovic has come up in conversations Basel were not part of. Nothing formal, nothing signed — but nothing about it accidental either.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around Basel they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
The board have signed the man in the dugout to a longer contract, which says more than any statement of support. Stability is easy to promise and costly to keep.
Footballers are asked about their boyhood club so often that nobody listens to the answer. Marco Pašalić has just signed for Basel, and for once the answer mattered.
13 boys move up, and somewhere in the building the people who coached them at twelve are quietly having the best morning of their working year. Nothing about this shows up in a result and it is why the academy exists.
The words a physio says slowly. 67 days is what the club will announce and everybody who has heard this diagnosis before knows the number is the least of it: the knee comes back before the player does.
Bećir Omeragić was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at Basel is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Rudy Kohon is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
It is never announced and it is entirely visible: the biggest afternoons of the season keep containing him. A press box works this out long before anybody at the club confirms a word of it.
This is the season the town will measure the next twenty against. The trophy travels home with the squad, and the route through the streets was agreed days ago.
At 34 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.92 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
There is a particular kind of quiet from an away end watching one man score twice. Giacomo Koloto provided it, and the 8.43 beside his name is if anything generous to everybody else.
Sindre Walle Egeli was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” Basel have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at Basel is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
In brief
SquadWords at Basel training over how hard people work
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” Basel have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Philipp Comert will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around Basel the goodbyes have quietly begun.
Squad26 Apr 2038
Bénie Traoré falls out with a teammate over standards
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 47 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at Basel is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
Bećir Omeragić was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
In brief
SquadRoger Hinojo falls out with a teammate over standards
1‑0 against SC Freiburg, and a performance that will be described to people who were not there for the rest of the season. Abdoullah Ba was at the centre of the description.
Headers, blocks, tackles, interceptions — 31 of them, and not one goal behind him. The sort of performance that never makes a highlight reel and wins football matches.
At 34 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.06 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
5 wins in a row changes how opponents warm up: quieter, more glances across. Runs end, everybody knows that — but nobody in this dressing room is planning for it.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around Basel they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Bećir Omeragić was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
Successful dribbles: 22. Every time he got the ball somebody had to make a decision, and every time the decision was wrong.
Squad1 Mar 2038
Ebere Eze falls out with a teammate over standards
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
The words a physio says slowly. 26 days is what the club will announce and everybody who has heard this diagnosis before knows the number is the least of it: the knee comes back before the player does.
There are footballers who have a good season and footballers a season is remembered for, and the second kind get their names read out in a hall in the summer. Basel will be quietly delighted and privately nervous.
“I want to be playing for trophies while my legs still let me.” Nothing in that sentence is a transfer request, and nobody at Basel heard it as anything else.
The name of Fabian Seferovic has come up in conversations Basel were not part of. Nothing formal, nothing signed — but nothing about it accidental either.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 8.86 at 35, and nobody on the pitch was better.
“I want to win things, and I would like to do it here.” Nothing has been demanded and nothing has been threatened — but a boardroom at Basel hears a sentence like that exactly as it was built.
Bénie Traoré was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around Basel they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Roger Hinojo is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
Shots: 12. Goals: none. The chances were there and they were good ones, and they went into the stand, the goalkeeper's arms and the side netting in roughly that order.
37 times he got in the way of something. Centre-halves get written about when they make mistakes and ignored when they do not, so an afternoon like this needs saying out loud: he is the reason the scoreline reads as it does.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 8 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
Player ratings21 Sep 2037
A brace, and Bénie Traoré takes the afternoon — 9.14
There is a particular kind of quiet from an away end watching one man score twice. Bénie Traoré provided it, and the 9.14 beside his name is if anything generous to everybody else.
There is an age at which every good afternoon gets described as a throwback, which is unfair and also accurate. 9.59 at 35, and nobody on the pitch was better.
Sindre Walle Egeli was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at Basel is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 13 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
Footballers are asked about their boyhood club so often that nobody listens to the answer. Dennis Cirkin has just signed for Basel, and for once the answer mattered.
At 35 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 8.01 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Terms are settled between the clubs and the rest is paperwork and a photograph. Around Basel they have already started talking about him in the past tense.
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
The words a physio says slowly. 28 days is what the club will announce and everybody who has heard this diagnosis before knows the number is the least of it: the knee comes back before the player does.
Position 3, 12 points, and the result everyone checks first is now theirs. The word is still not being said around the ground, which is how you know everyone is thinking it.
At 33 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 8.91 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 6 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at Basel is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Flavius Daniliuc is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
The name of Philipp Comert has come up in conversations Basel were not part of. Nothing formal, nothing signed — but nothing about it accidental either.
The words a physio says slowly. 85 days is what the club will announce and everybody who has heard this diagnosis before knows the number is the least of it: the knee comes back before the player does.
“I want to win things, and I would like to do it here.” Nothing has been demanded and nothing has been threatened — but a boardroom at Basel hears a sentence like that exactly as it was built.
219 appearances across 10 seasons in one shirt. Nobody builds a career like that on purpose any more; it happens to a certain kind of footballer at a certain kind of club.
Bénie Traoré was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
The words a physio says slowly. 29 days is what the club will announce and everybody who has heard this diagnosis before knows the number is the least of it: the knee comes back before the player does.
Bones knit. That is the one merciful thing about this injury and the reason Basel will talk about it more openly than they would about a knee. He will be back, and roughly when they say.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what Basel can pretend not to have heard.
The words a physio says slowly. 63 days is what the club will announce and everybody who has heard this diagnosis before knows the number is the least of it: the knee comes back before the player does.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
“I have ambitions, and I would like the club to share them.” Nobody has asked to leave and nobody has been shown the door — but a player chooses that sentence carefully, and a boardroom hears it exactly as it was meant.
The words a physio says slowly. 95 days is what the club will announce and everybody who has heard this diagnosis before knows the number is the least of it: the knee comes back before the player does.
3‑2 against Toulouse FC, and a performance that will be described to people who were not there for the rest of the season. Bećir Omeragić was at the centre of the description.
At 35 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 9.83 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
Some afternoons a goalkeeper is the team. 7 saves, several of them the sort nobody expects to see stopped, and a scoreline that flatters everybody in front of him.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
The clubs have agreed terms, and what remains is formality: a medical, a photograph, a signature. Nobody at Basel is pretending he will be back in the shirt.
Marked 9.06 — the sort of number a correspondent writes down twice to be sure. Everything he tried came off, and what he did not try was not worth trying.
11 shots, and a count that reads like a good afternoon until you check the other column. Strikers survive weeks like this on the understanding that the chances keep arriving; the day they stop is the day it becomes a problem.
The words a physio says slowly. 15 days is what the club will announce and everybody who has heard this diagnosis before knows the number is the least of it: the knee comes back before the player does.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
Fee agreed, terms agreed, medical booked. Philipp Comert will be somebody else’s player by the weekend, and around Basel the goodbyes have quietly begun.
Somebody said out loud what several people had been thinking. Roger Hinojo is at the centre of it, and the squad will now find out whether the standard rises or the pair of them simply stop speaking.
Nobody at Basel will say this on the record and the team sheets have been saying it for weeks. There is a small group in every squad who get picked when the fixture is difficult, and he has joined it.
24 days on the estimate, and a long, private, unglamorous year of a rehabilitation nobody watches. Basel lose a footballer; he loses considerably more than a season.
Position 2, 31 points, and the result everyone checks first is now theirs. The word is still not being said around the ground, which is how you know everyone is thinking it.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what Basel can pretend not to have heard.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” Basel have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.
The offer from Vaduz for Philipp Comert was heard out and sent back the same day. First bids are rarely meant to succeed; they are meant to find out how loudly the door closes.
The words a physio says slowly. 28 days is what the club will announce and everybody who has heard this diagnosis before knows the number is the least of it: the knee comes back before the player does.
Brutal, unambiguous and, for all the horror of the moment, usually less career-shaped than the ligament everybody fears more. 32 days, a clean timeline, and a return date somebody can actually plan around.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” Basel have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
It was not about football and everybody who saw it knows that. Two men who have to play together on Saturday said things at Basel this week that will take longer than a week to unsay.