Other than perhaps law, nowhere does the concept of possession hold more weight than it does in sport. In fact, the debate would be abooout near a cul-de-sac; athletics involving both a "ball" and two "teams" basically have their double helices woven by this exercising of influence over said "ball", a bond so heavy not a jack on earth could lift it.

So hey, you catch Barca, man? Shit hasn't changed, I know -- it's great. (Enough to raise a few words up out me, which hopefully precedes a fit of non-dormancy here in the future.)
Sure, they always rip Baby Madrid to shreds at the Camp Nou, and there really couldn't have been a worse game for Abel Resino to debut a raw, inchoate keeper in.

With rosters bound and chained until the new year and this obnoxious international break now in full swing, there seems no better time than the present to effuse an EPL preview, one which -- despite three to four rounds having been waged already -- will feature a table read grossly different than the one incumbent.