That's the
question, along with 'how does Jamie Carragher manage to get a
wedgie every time he makes a slide tackle?' which has most
frequently interrupted my thoughts when watching football this
season.
I've become obsessed. I'll spend whole Sunday afternoons watching
re-runs of United games through the eyes of the Bulgarian via
player-cam, desperate to catch him mouth an obscenity or sneer when
his Argentine team-mate runs the length of the field with United
4-0 up at home to Bolton to tackle Danny Shittu. With his head.
There's something mesmeric about watching two players, both
undeniably of world class calibre, play the game from such
contrasting mindsets. Put simply, Tevez is everything Berbatov
isn't and it's clear from the 'Argentina' chants that serenade the
former's every touch that the Old Trafford faithful have made up
their mind which they prefer. At times it seems as though there's
more chance of the home crowd adopting a chant for Uncle Bulgaria
than their own number nine.
It is though the man that matters who has nailed his colours to
Berbatov's mast this season, with Sir Alex Ferguson unequivocal in
his conviction that his £30million acquisition is the heir apparent
to King Eric. To date, the crown has not quite fitted. When quizzed
on the United crowd's affection for Tevez, Fergie replied 'they
love a trier' which sounded not dissimilar to a teacher telling a
pupil they're 'special' because they have particular needs.
Throughout his two seasons at Old Trafford Tevez has been the model
professional and is popular with his team-mates, fans and manager
alike but his recent behaviour smacks of a petulance that owes as
much to his 'owners'' desire for a lucrative pay-day as it does his
own ambition and frustration. Giving Fergie the old Hulk Hogan ears
and sulking whenever he is withdrawn sits better with his team-mate
Cristiano Ronaldo and could, in the long-run, prove to be his
undoing when United's board meet to talk cold figures. They'll be
loath to add diapers to next season's kit bill.
Berbatov's laissez-faire school of thought/movement can be
frustrating for the partisan but the manner in he which he
nonchalantly brought down Darren Fletcher's long ball and laid on
the perfect pass for Tevez in the recent Manchester derby was more
je ne sais quoi. Berbatov's got that certain something you just
can't bottle, although there have been reports he has been in talks
about fronting a new antiperspirant, it's got the tagline -
BERBATOV: Guaranteed no sweat.
It would do a disservice to Tevez's talent though to label this a
bout between the artisan and artist; craft and art, but there are
clear parallels that can be drawn. Berbatov is Eubank to Tevez's
street fighting Benn, is Peter Cook to Dudley Moore, is Baddiel to
Skinner, Style Council to The Jam, Blur to Oasis. If the pair were
pets, admittedly unlikely, Berbatov would be a cat that barely
looks up when you get home, while Tevez would lick you and run off
with a shoe. Think Garfield and Odie.
Berbatov's physique hardly does him any favours either. He's got
the head of Andy Garcia and body of Jarvis Cocker and just doesn't
look like a footballer. An up and coming mafioso maybe, but when he
finally takes the hint and tracks back his tackling is reminiscent
of a geography teacher that's had to take PE at the last minute.
Somewhat perversely, he's fast becoming a poster boy for fat Sunday
League strikers. His mantra is one I used to embrace; once when a
centre-half lost patience with my reluctance to hare after one of
his aimless punts forward and screamed 'CHASE IT!' I retorted 'You
chase it, you f***** kicked it.' Berba would have been proud of
that one.
Tevez, in stark contrast, is Brian Glover in Kes. He's probably
only up to Berbatov's nipples but has an infectious and insatiable
appetite for the fight that has United fans beating their chests
and doing the unthinkable: singing about a team in blue and
white.
Think with the head rather than heart though and the stats are
slanted in Berbatov's favour. The big man has managed nine league
goals to Tevez's five and has the most assists in the league
alongside Frank Lampard, ten apiece. Tevez has assisted just three.
The tackle count narrowly goes against Berbatov, with Tevez taking
it 1,923 to three.
Ferguson, for his part, retains the utmost confidence in a player
he has clearly always fancied managing, a la Cantona. While he
persistently talks of United in terms of passion and guts and
champions the spirit of risk and reward, he also appreciates the
finer things in life. His love of fine wine is well known and while
he'd bristle at being labelled a champagne socialist, he has
managed to weld together sides that embrace cavalier spirit with
roundhead efficiency.
Berbatov, like a vintage red, is an indulgence but one that
Ferguson can well afford. It remains to be seen whether he feels
the same about Tevez.
Haha..Berbatov is like Garfield...Tevez is like Odie..really damn
true leh 
