http://www.football365.com/story/0,17033,8750_5340866,00.html
"A hungry man is an angry man," Jimmy Cliff once sang.
And Mark Viduka is hungry. He's at his most dangerous when he's hungry, and I'm not just talking about the perils of pushing in front of him in the queue at the Newcastle canteen.
Like Jimmy, Mark wants His Piece Of The Pie (ideally chicken and mushroom, with a lasagne thrown in and a few chips if they're ready) - and that could be bad news for Hull, Sunderland and Middlesbrough.
History has taught us that there are two Mark Vidukas: the fat knacker who huffs and puffs around the pitch apparently not giving a toss; and the fat knacker who huffs and puffs around the pitch but has a superb first touch, shoots like a rocket, wins everything in the air, has the vision and skill to get past people and the brain to get into scoring positions.
It is sometimes said of players or teams that "you don't know which one's going to turn up". With Mark, well...you kinda do. The popular perception is that it depends if he's coming to the end of a contract.
Interviewed on Football Focus before the Fulham game, when it was put to Mark that, "You're playing for a contract - as well as survival", he did this weird sort of smirking, snarling thing with his upper lip. Based on a scientific study, this probably means that he was suppressing his contempt for the question, or that he'd got a bit of chicken pie stuck in his teeth.
"Whether it's for Newcastle, or some other club, I'm happy to play," was the gist of Mark's answer. And indeed he probably is. Newcastle, Boro, whatever. It's all gravy to Mark.
Football fans seem to have a strange relationship with the idea of a footballer 'playing for a contract'. On the one hand, we hear "50 grand a week, and he's not even trying", but then when a bloke really tries his best in order to earn himself his 50 grand, he's decried as some sort of mercenary. Admittedly, he's only really trying his best at times when he feels the performances matter most, i.e. towards the end of the season. But, then again, that is when they do matter most. A Mark Viduka goal against Aston Villa this Sunday will be worth bloody millions.
The West Indian cricket captain, Chris Gayle, recently expressed the view that all this playing cricket for the West Indies was frankly hard, unrewarding graft and he would be better off as a freelancer picking up a day's work Twenty20ing as and when he fancied. You feel that this would appeal very much to Mark: like Chris, he is an established performer in the twilight of his career who is not going to get any better with coaching, nor does he need any "come on lads, 'up and at 'em" Henry V shite from the gaffer. He knows what he's about and, on his day, he can be great.
Is it worth having Mark around for a whole season, tweaking this and niggling that, blocking the path of a young talent into the club (not literally, he's not that fat)? No. He would be ideally suited as a self-employed footballer.
Perhaps this is the way the game should go: it is obviously untenable for most clubs to keep spending a fortune on having people sitting round the place. Let Mark 'play for his contract' several times a season - perhaps three games for Newcastle, then four at Hull, maybe Wigan for the Easter period. You might argue that the richer clubs will just buy up all the best players and stop their poorer rivals getting their hands on them. But that's happening anyway, and at least this way, players would be trying their hardest all the time.