wc06: recap and lasting memories

The World Cup is over and, as I struggle to resume a normal sleeping pattern again, here are one man's subjective thoughts about the month-long footie-fest:

• the winners: Italy may be antagonistic, diving, whingeing jackasses, but I honestly feel they are worthy victors. They survived what turned out to be the Group of Death (each of the four teams had legitimate chances to qualify for the knockout rounds when the third match of the group stages kicked off), they turned aside a tricky Oz encounter (regardless of how dubiously they did it), they dismissed Ukraine, saddened the host nation, and held their nerve in a PSO. They had in Fabio Cannavaro arguably the more worthy Golden Ball winner. They had a goalkeeper in Gianluigi Buffon who nearly set a clean-sheet record. They had, except against Germany and despite all the attacking talent and flair available, a most boring, though effective, style of play. I still don’t like Italy. l”
• best one-game team performance: Argentina 6-0 Serbinegro. Mesmerising performance that was not to be duplicated, mostly because of coach Jose Pekerman’s over-reliance on Juan Roman Riquelme and squeamishness in going with his cast of talent on the bench that remained there for far too many minutes of the tournament.
• goal of the tournament: There were several candidates from which to choose: Torsten Frings’s goal v. Costa Rica in the Cup opener; Phillip Lahm’s in the same match; Joe Cole’s v. Sweden in the group stages; Bastian Schweinsteiger’s 2nd goal v. Portugal in the consolation game; Nuno Gomez’s goal v. Germany in the 3rd/4th place match; Maxi Rodriguez’s goal v. Mexico in the round of 16; David Beckham’s free-kick v. Ecuador in the round of 16; Darijo Srna v. Australia in the group stages; Tomas Rosicky’s v. USA in the group stages; Esteban Cambiasso v. Serbinegro in the group stages; Carlos Tevez v. Serbinegro in the same match; Fernando Torres v. Ukraine in the group stages. My vote goes to Maxi Rodriguez’s volley in the round of 16 v. Mexico. I still can’t believe it–and at what a time, too. Sensational.
• best team not to make the final 16: Ivory Coast. The orange-clad Elephants had the misfortune of making their World Cup debut in a difficult group (Argentina, Holland, Serbinegro), but they managed to play well, be entertaining, and leave us with a feeling of “What if they’d been in a different group…” They lost by identical 1-2 margins to Argentina and Holland, but managed a two-goal comeback to defeat the Serbs, 3-2. They, along with round-of-16 entrant Ghana and a host of fellow continentals who didn’t even qualify (among them, Nigeria, Senegal, Cameroon, and Morocco), give Africa hope to perform well in 2010 when the World Cup is played on African soil for the first time.
• most disappointing team(s): Czech Republic, Iran. Many people will say Brasil, England, Spain, Holland, USA or Argentina, but I disagree. You must know your history or be practical in analysing this: Brasil never do well (relatively speaking) in European World Cups and had an ageing defense, so they did as well as I predicted (one of the few I got right); Argentina had the misfortune to go against Prussian karma too early; though I’d always had England winning it since the crash-out at Euro 2004, I knew better when Sven only picked 4 strikers, two of whom were recovering from foot injuries, one of whom is still trying to figure how to shave, and the fourth of whom looks like the poster child for tall people with eating disorders; Spain never do well in any international tournament and the sooner people start realising it (until Spain actually do win something), the less dumb they’re going to look; Holland was a bit too inexperienced and have much to look forward to in ‘08 and ‘10; and expecting the USA to carry forth the momentum from ‘02 was as much due to FIFA’s world rankings as anything. My vote for most disappointing team is draw between Czech Republic and Iran. The FIFA rankings are a farce, and while I could give a damn about Czech Republic’s status as the #2 ranked team in the world, there were high expectations across Europe and many other parts of the world for this team to do well and go far, but, aside from their opening-match thrashing of the Yanks, they were, quite frankly, crap, injuries notwithstanding. As for Iran, remember, this is a subjective list–I’d seen this team play quite a few times in the lead-up to the tournament and was convinced they were underrated because most footie observers are mainstream elitists who looked haughtily down at African and Asian football. However, the Persians looked old, creaky, and uninventive, very different from how they looked in qualifying and at the Asian Cup in ‘04. And they complained about the heat and bemoaned their own fitness. I had no idea that Tehran was so refreshingly cool and/or balmy year-round, thereby making the German summer so difficult to endure for the poor Iranians.
• most disagreeable team: Hands-down, it’s Portugal. Sorry, you Portu-philes out there, but it’s true. While they are not the only team full of prancing phairy princesses who dive better than Greg Louganis or a battalion of steroid-enhanced Chinese women, they stand alone as the best at what they do, led by that new gay icon (not my idea to think so, mind you, but others’ conception), Cristiano Ronaldo. They created a whole new genre of footie that I never thought had existed and hope will be cleaned up. If FIFA are going to suspend Rooney for two matches for stamping on Carvalho’s figs, if they’re going to investigate the rumours of racist taunting by Materazzi that induced Zizou’s head to introduce itself to Materazzi’s breast bone, if they’re publicly going to censure referees for merely doing what they were told by FIFA to do, then they ought to start suspending players for their acts of impudent behaviour designed to induce calls in their favour. Yes, that might have meant some matches where there were only five eligible players for each team at the start of kickoff as a result of previous indiscretions, but I’d rather watch five-on-five, full-pitch footie than a match full of turf divers.
• best kits: anything designed by Puma, most specifically Ivory Coast’s all-orange, Ghana and Iran’s all-red, and Angola’s red, yellow, and black strip with black shorts. Puma designed their kits very simply–for most teams, all solid colour strips and shorts with a minimum of stripes, and with a designed coded into the background of the kit to resemble a national treasure of the respective nations (for example, if you look closely at Togo’s strip, there’s a large silhouette of the sparrow hawk, the team and nation’s symbolic bird, on the bottom half of the front). Excellent stuff. Kudos, too, to Nike’s efforts this year, as they were crap for the ‘02 Cup. Going away from the template design of before where each team had the same design, but in their national colours, Nike went with designs that were more tailoured to each nation and were often a look back at the past, retro-style. USA’s all-blue change kit with the red and white horizontal stripe was classic 50s, as were Holland’s home orange with the collar & their white change strips with the blue and red diagonal stripe, and Mexico’s home green with a white chevron-type across the chest and the white change with said chevron stripe in green. Korea’s all-white ensemble was very cool and classy, as well. And, as always, I liked England’s change kit, the red shirt with the white shorts, as well as Argentina’s dark-blue change kit.
• worst kits: Why is it that Brasil, Italy, and Germany are afraid to wear their change kits? Each of these three teams only wore one ensemble the entire month. Personally, I like Germany’s red change strips and Brasil’s blue change strips very much. I have no idea what Italy’s change strips look like, or if they even have one. Korea’s new red strip with white shorts is much better than before (for one thing, the colour of the strip is not PINK this year), but the blue numbers are crap; go with white numbers. France’s change white isn’t so hot, not with the blue-and-red spider-web effect on the front. However, the worst kits have to be the ones made by Lotto and worn by Serbinegro and Ukraine. The six talon-like stripes, three down the left side and three down the right side, give the effect of a pinwheel toy or a woebegone windmill with hemorrhoids. Lotto should be banned from further kit-designing.
• national team that earned the most respect: Trinibago. One of the smallest nations ever to grace the World Cup stage and given no chance to do anything–even given less chance than Botswana, Suriname, Luxembourg, and Burma, none of whom were even in the World Cup–they battled their asses off to swipe a point from Sweden, gave England fits of paranoia, and troubled Paraguay to the very end. They didn’t score a goal, which was less than they deserved, but they played resolutely, gamely, and with pride that I’d like to have seen from others (England, Brasil, Iran). Kudos, too, to their hearty fans who danced and sang throughout all three matches and were very generous and genuine in their support for their national heroes.
• most entertaining match: for my money, it goes to Croatia v. Australia. With each team having to go all-out to qualify for the next round, it had all the makings from the very beginning of entertaining us. Croatia needed a win, Oz a draw, so when Croatia scored first, it was game on because Oz were desperate. When Oz levelled, Croatia resumed the desperate mantra. After the Croats went ahead for a second time, the frenzied play was again switched back to the Aussies. A late, late goal secured Oz’s passage. Adding to the affair was the scene in the stands and the atmosphere in the stadium, conveyed so gloriously to us even on television. The Croats sang and danced all match long (I got motion sickness watching 25,000 checkerboard-clad maniacs dancing the entire match; how the hell did the players make it through without decorating the pitch, ala Beckham v. Ecuador?) while 25,000 Aussies downed pints and plowed blow-up kangaroos in return. The remaining 10,000, not affiliated with either nation, either watched in bemusement or chose a side and followed suit. And what made the match even more entertaining than it already was? The referee. I guess all the checkerboard movement or kangaroo-plowing cost him his rudimentary math skills, as he proceeded to book the same Croat player three times before finally expelling him just after the match ended.
• most boring match: Switzerland 0-0 Ukraine, round of 16; I don’t remember it, however, as I slept through nearly all of it, even though I had downed several Red Bulls and speed beforehand…
• best individual player performance: Zinedine Zidane v. Brasil in quarterfinals. Shaka Hislop v. Sweden in group stages. Owen Hargreaves v. Portugal in quarterfinals. Arjen Robben v. Serbinegro in group stages. Cristiano Ronaldo as Superman in semifinals. Ricardo v. England in quarterfinal PSO. Okay, so the Ronaldo entrant is not a serious entrant, but it was quite an audition for the next Superman movie. My pick is a toss-up between Zizou’s and Hislop’s, with the nod going slightly to Zidane because his came on a much bigger stage and was arguably more unexpected. Hislop in goal was amazing for the ten-man Soca Warriors against Sweden, as the Swedes pummeled him for nearly the whole of the second half of their match. He was up to the occasion time and again and thoroughly frustrated the Swedes so much that the nil-nil draw had the look of defeat to the Swedes and unbelievable victory to the tiny island nation. Though Zizou had done well in the round of 16 match v. Spain, no one expected the performance against Brasil, which was a transport back to the late 90s/early 00s when Zizou was unquestionably the greatest player on the planet. His performance was scintillating and he controlled the midfield and the pace of the match nearly by himself. It was an unexpected legendary performance that not many saw coming.

The World Cup was a lot of things, but it’s going to be a long time before it’s remembered for anything other than Zidane’s momentary loss of consciousness. Even Italy’s championship is nearly being overshadowed by most of the international media. And with rumours swilling around about what Materazzi said to provoke Zizou, Zizou set to speak publicly about it in a few hours, and the fact that his Golden Ball award might be stripped from him, the furor is not going to die down soon.

It’s too bad, though inevitable in today’s world of mass media and the frenzy it produces at times. Hopefully, with our recap of the World Cup hardly broaching the subject, you, the Reader, will be reminded of all the wonderful and wacky things that happened in this World Cup. And, of course, remember that the above comments were purely one man’s opinion; if I was remiss in leaving some things out or in neglecting to mention other things, my apologies in advance. Perhaps you’ll introduce your own ideas in the “comments” section for us all to ruminate over.

wc06: italy 1-1 france (italy win, 5-3, in PSO)

“However, I just don’t think Zizou is going to allow France to lose.”

Could I be any worse of a footie writer? Honestly, how did you guys manage to put up with my dross for the past month? I couldn’t have fared worse in analysing and predicting matches if I’d sat out in a pasture, surrounded by mounds of bovine dung and overseen by football-ignorant constellations, and simulated each of the 64 matches in this World Cup using dung beetles as players, frozen feces as the football, and LSD-induced hallucinations to choose my formation and formulate my strategies.

“Her moment of weakness cost me a lifetime of happiness.”

When Manigault wrote those immortal words about a woman he had once loved, those words could’ve been mine if I’d substituted Zizou’s for “her”, “me” with France, and “happiness” with glory.

I wonder how the French public and media are going to treat the near-deity Zizou–we’ve already seen that Raymond Domenech, his manager, “understands” Zidane’s as-yet inexplicable gaffe while not necessarily condoning it–but I’m not going to let him off so easily.

I have no problem with the headbutt, per se, as when I first saw it, I laughed my ass off, but I have a huge problem with the timing of it. How can the leader of the squad, the man to whom all of France looked to for inspiration and guidance, the man so lionised in all corners of global media for his recent resurrection on the pitch be so unequivocally boneheaded? I don’t care what Materazzi said to him, how long he may have been winding him up, or in what manner he was obviously provoking him, but you do not do something so asinine with ten minutes left before penalty kicks in a World Cup final, especially not when three of your teammates–the very three who, along with you, are the obvious first choices to take penalties in a PSO. If Henry, Ribery, and Vieira had not already been substituted for, I’d have less of a problem with Zidane’s momentary lapse of judgment; however, being your nation’s lone remaining grace brings great responsibility to keep your composure and Zidane blew it.

In one of the wackiest and most unusual World Cups I can remember, this ending couldn’t have been more fitting. I suppose if one cannot go out in a blaze of glory, scoring your nation’s winning goal in a world-championship-winning match, I suppose going out in such a ferocious and controversial manner is a close second for a grand exit.

We got to see the best of genius, all in a span of one hundred and eleven minutes: from Zidane’s cheeky and very ballsy chip shot penalty take to give France an early nil-1 lead to his ball-handling and clever passing to his rocket header on goal magnificently saved by Buffon early in extra time to his impossible-to-stop bullet header to Materazzi’s chest.

Ahh, but all of this obsessive writing about Zizou overshadows the fact that Italy are once again world champions. They move into second place behind Brasil for the number of stars (4) on their strips indicating the number of World Cups won.

Until Zidane’s act of lunacy, the outcome was still a toss-up. Italy dominated the first half, France’s early lead notwithstanding, but nearly capitulated several times after the restart and in extra time while Zidane was still on the pitch. Buffon rose to the occasion on several occasions to keep the Azzurri in it, while other times it was the defence, led by the sensational Fabio Cannavaro, who stymied the French attack.

Though France had lost Vieira and Henry to injury and Ribery to substitution, France were the better team for most of the last hour of play. Even when Zidane was sent off, France had the better of possession and the better chances, as Italy were content to sit back and wait for PSO, knowing that France were going to be without four of their penalty-takers in the shootout.

Italy’s decision to pack it in and wait for the shootout was typical Italy, but disappointing, especially given the fact that they had gone all out in the semifinal extra time against Germany.
In the end, however, Italy were the better side and, based on their play the entire tournament, were deserving winners. I may not like Italy, but credit and respect for their accomplishment must be meted out, even if the style in which they succeeded is not always welcome or respected.

This is the final World Cup post involving games in particular, but there will be shortly at least one more piece reviewing the tournament as a whole because, contrary to what I’ve read on some American sports web sites, this was an enjoyable and entertaining World Cup, to say the least. It deserves a recap…

Again, congratulations to Italy for winning their 4th World Cup.

wc06: the final: italy v. france

Now that the appetising farce of the 3rd-place game is gone (won by Germany, 3-1, in a fabulous display of entertaining football by both the hosts and Portugal), we can all concentrate on the main course–and you have a choice: Italian cuisine or French cuisine.

Based on the inspired performances of both nations, especially since the elimination rounds started two weeks ago, this is a mouth-watering final. As a neutral, one has to be happy about this final. As well as matching two entertaining offences and two very strong defences, we are treated to only the second final without a German or Brasilian side since 1954 in Switzerland (and for the first time since 1978 in Argentina). Not having (West)Germany or Brasil in a final is a rare delight.

On one side, you have Italy, slight favourites in this match, who’ve begun to add offensive flair (did you see them playing four, yes, 4, strikers in extra time during their match with Germany? That’s not Italian football, but Brasilian or Argentine footie…) to their usual oppressive defence and are as complete a team as you could hope to have in a final. They have famous names and a phalanx of stars, but no true world-renowned superstar, which has perhaps been a major reason they’ve been so in-form for the past two weeks.

On the flip side, you have in France a team of ageing stars on their last hurrah before the make way for the younger generation. You have one world-famous superstar in the mercurial and smooth Thierry Henry. You also have a suffocating defence and a plethora of playmakers and scorers. And, then, you have in Zinedine Zidane a superstar who surpasses mere global eminence: he’s without question the greatest player since Diego Maradona was the master a generation ago. It is to Zizou over the next twenty years that we will be comparing any rising star who wants to be the player of his generation.

And what more fitting a way for Zizou to go out than in a World Cup final.

This a rematch of the Euro 2000 final won by the French on a golden goal by David Trezeguet. And, amazingly and understatedly, it is also a tantalising warmup to these two teams’ Euro 2008 qualifying campaign, as the two are paired together in Group B and will play one another again in Paris on 6 September.

So, what is this final going to come down to? It’s such an evenly-matched final that it’s silly:

• Goalkeepers: Italy’s Gianluigi Buffon is one of the top two or three keepers in the world. He’s working on a clean sheet record of epic proportions: if France fail to score tonight/tomorrow morning for the first 63 minutes, Buffon will have set a record–currently held by legendary Italian goalkeeper Walter Zenga at Italy ‘90–for having gone more than 517 minutes of playing time without allowing a goal. And, let’s not forget, the one goal that he’s allowed in the past month came courtesy of an own goal by teammate Cristian Zaccardo’s miskicked attempt to clear a ball versus the U.S. Buffon rarely makes a mistake and is always in position to back up his defence whenever it is that they make their own rare mistakes. The same cannot always be said of France’s man between the posts, the eccentric Fabien Barthez, who suffers from lapses of concentration at crucial times (witness his near-gaffe late in the semifinals on a Cristiano Ronaldo shot that allowed Figo a free header from six yards out, only for it to go wide). However, it must be recognised that Barthez has been much more the consistent world-class keeper for France than he has been while playing for his club teams; he’s only allowed two goals in this World Cup and he has won a World Cup before, so he’s more than competent. edge: Italy
• Defence: What more is there to say? Italy live by the defence and always have. This edition is led by Golden Ball candidate Fabio Cannavaro and is formidable. Cannavaro and mates have been rock-solid and figure to be no different in this one. France’s defence is only slightly less solid, led by Lilian Thuram, who’s been nearly as good as Cannavaro. They concede nothing easily and are a close-marking, hard-tackling group. Edge: Italy
• Midfield: Italy are solid in the middle, with Zambrotta and Camoranesi the leading playmakers and the defensive Gennaro Gattuso brusquely holding down the middle from the back. They have controlled most of the matches they’ve played in this World Cup and were instrumental in shutting down Germany’s midfield for large parts of their semifinal. However, they lack the starpower of France’s midfield, starting, of course, with the incomparable Zizou and helped massively in defensive prowess by Patrick Vieira and Claude Makelele. France’s attack runs through this conduit and the results over the last half of the competition have been nothing short of excellent. Edge: France
• Strikers: Italy’s strikers have been largely unimpressive in the tournament. Luca Toni has been a massive disappointment, save for his two goals against Ukraine. Francesco Totti hasn’t scored much, but I believe he’s the leading assist man in the tournament. Being negative, he’s Italy’s top scorer with only two goals; from a positive viewpoint, however, Italy’s eleven goals have come from ten different players. France, meanwhile, have the other incomparable: Thierry Henry. He may be the lone striker up front, but he’s ably assisted by young wingers Franck Ribery and Florent Malouda. Edge: France
• Intangibles: Both nations are poised. Italy have rallied admirably around each other and have closed ranks to become really close-knit as a result of the Serie A scandal back home. They have lots of stars, but no true superstar, and have played like a team comfortable with each other. Their reputation for being stingy in conceding goals is intimidating and can wear an opponent down because the opponent is always thinking about that one chance to score and being able to do when it presents itself. France, too, have rallied around one another and are more closely knit than one might think. They unjustifiably have caught a lot of stick from the press back home and from some political corners, most notably the incorrigably racist Jean-Jacques le Pen, who claims that France’s World Cup team, with seven blacks as starters, don’t truly represent France. This has sought to bring the team closer and it’s hard to understand le Pen’s dumbassness. And then there’s Zizou and his (and his teammates’) desire for him to go out on top of the world. Zidane’s legend is already god-like and going out with a second World Cup title would elevate it somehow higher. Edge: Even

To predict or not to predict, that is really what Bill penned for Hamlet (but with a crunch for room on the wrinkled vellum, his editors changed “predict” to “be”). I’ve been using my subjectiveness to pick most matches, regardless of how objectively I’ve analysed them–and we all know how successful my predictions have been.

With Italy, I’ve only picked them once (Australia) since the group stages, although I should have, in all objectivity, picked them a second time (Ukraine). And in their semifinal with Germany, I had to pick the hosts because of the momentum they were riding at the time.

As for France, I’ve been more successful. I’ve only picked against them once (Brasil), and that was an agonising toss-up that I basically flipped a coin over.

If you’ve been reading my opinions over the past few weeks, you know who I’m not cheering for. And I’m sure it’s obvious my feelings for Zidane, as well. I think France will win, perhaps in extra time, perhaps in a PSO. This is a tossup for me, to be honest, were I more objective in picking Italy’s matches. Should Italy win, they would be a worthy champion, my feelings for them notwithstanding. However, I just don’t think Zizou is going to allow France to lose.

Enjoy the game and may your team win.

wc06: the final is set

Well, in matters both related and unrelated to football, this morning’s advent of dawn here on the peninsula was less eventful than was yesterday’s. There was no craning of necks here in the Cave of Dissidence looking skyward for migrating birds, only intent gazing at the TV set to witness the settling of Italy’s opponent in the finale at the weekend.

Perhaps KJI is backing Italy to win the World Cup, as I personally think his fireworks display was less a brazen attempt to overshadow either the U.S.’s anniversary of declaring independence from Curious George or the U.S.’s relaunching of the space shuttle program than it was a militaristic cry of “Forza Italia!!!”

All the hullabaloo over Jung-il’s immature javelin-throwing, complete with one or two acts of amateur detonation, certainly got the attention of newspaper hacks and TV quacks the world over, all of which led to lots of premature extrapolation–and we all know what always follows such acts of unfulfillment: disappointment and lowered self-esteem. But such thoughts take a backseat to footie for now…

Portugal 0-1 France

While there was always a hint of simmering tension just beneath the surface of this match, this semifinal was somewhat less chippy than the one 24 hours previous. In fact, viewers could have felt a sense of letdown by the relative lack of drama in this one, but there was still fine play on both sides of the ball.

There were elements of unsavouriness in this one: regardless of how much I was backing France and how much I like Thierry Henry, I’m still not convinced that Carvalho’s foul on him, which garnered the penalty kick that Zinedine Zidane converted with the coolest of verve (*sigh*, take notes, England), warranted such a harsh penalty. Henry went down more easily than I would have liked at Carvalho’s trip.

However, karma is an unerring, faithful reaper of what has been sowed and a somewhat dubious penalty given to a Portugal opponent gives the football astral plane a more level look. And it got even more level when, moments later, Histrionics Ronaldo gave the dive of a lifetime in the France box from a phantom push by a defender.

Seriously, did you see that dive? You would have thought he’d gotten passed over for the lead role in Superman Returns and was re-auditioning in front of a near-worldwide audience in hopes that public sentiment would change the casting director’s mind and give him the role. That dive made Henry’s splash look like he was corralled by a Lex Luthor kryptonite tripwire.
The referee was outstanding, for a change, ignoring dives from both squads, unwarranted calls for bookings, remonstrations from both benches, turning his cheek to the play-acting, and constantly gesturing to players just to play. That only two players were booked was both a relief and a welcome sight.

Remember, this was a rematch of that infamous Euro 2000 semifinal where there was a post-match brawl, an encircling of the ref by a posse of Portugal players, and a total of two years’ banning from international play for several of said posse, so there was less acrimony than I thought there would be.

Aside from his efforts to win an Academy Award, Ronaldo was really the only Portugal player to trouble constantly the France defence. He was never able to quite create any real clear-cut chances, but he was dangerous throughout the match, nonetheless.

Figo was tireless and should have done better with a point-blank header rebounded from a Ronaldo free kick late in the second half, but the rest of the Portugal midfield and strike force were pathetic. Part of this, of course, was due to the suffocating France defence, led by Thuram and aided by Sagnol, Gallas, Abidal, and holding midfielder Makelele. The France defence continues to be remarkable.

On the other side, the Portugal defence was nearly just as tough. There were periods of dominance by the French with Zidane, Ribery, and Vieira, but Henry was mostly shackled the entire match, save for his one big splash. The result was a bit harsh on the Portugal defence and on Ricardo in goal, but they were let down by the underperformers up front and the middle (again, save for Ronaldo).

In the end, France, just as Italy 24 hours previous, were the better team. Portugal’s run to the semifinals was unexpected and all of their supporters should be proud of their historic run, though a bit disappointed in the overall team performance in this match. If their evolution continues in the same line of ascent, they will be serious contenders for Euro 2008.

But, that’s the future. For the present, we have a mouthwatering final in Italy v. France. Storylines will no doubt abound in this one–itself a repeat of the same Euro 2000, that match a final, as well–and we’ll get to the storylines in a preview at the weekend.

wc06: semifinal (NOT taepodong missile) II preview

Last night’s proceedings were a spectacle to behold and I expect tonight’s to be the same.

I am talking about World Cup footie, in case you’ve lost sight, while ducking your heads to avoid recent low-flying birds of a different feather, of other endeavours still, er, endeavouring here on Earth.

Portugal v. France:

As with the first semifinal, stories abound pertaining to this fixture, stories that are not necessarily all related to the actual game that will commence on the pitch:

• Portugal have openly admitted to wanting to extract a bit of revenge for a loss to France six years ago, in the Euro 2000 semi-finals
• Deco and Costinha return to the Portuguese midfield after serving suspensions against England in the last match
• Six of France’s starting XI have bookings on their record from their last match played and would miss the final should they receive one here and France win
• Portugal are the only nation among the semi-finalists never to have reached a World Cup final, much less win the prize
• The two nations have combined to give up only three goals so far in the tournament, so goals will probably be hard to come by in this one, as well

Portugal should be very happy to have a rested Deco and Constinha back because they will be major keys to shackling France’s rejuvenated and electrifying midfield and forwards. If Portugal play as lackadaisically as did Brasil against France, which I don’t anticipate, book France into the final. Though Portugal’s defence has been stingy the past three and a half weeks, allowing just a solitary goal so far, if the midfielders don’t at least partly contain a now-rampant Zidane and Vieira, there will be loads of trouble for Portugal.

On the flip side, France are rightly favoured. There should be no reason to start thinking that les Bleus are suddenly going to revert to their group stage selves, not with the finish line so very much in sight. The French defence, like Portugal’s, has been very tough, conceding only a slow-motion crap goal to Korea and a penalty to Spain. The defence put a wiltering hammer to Brasil’s attack, but Portugal are not going to be as uninspired and will be more dangerous.

While Portugal are going to have concern themselves with Zidane, Henry, Ribery, Vieira, and more, France’s concern will be of a different hue: not allowing themselves to be drawn into Portugal’s less-than-honourable style of play. Whereas Portugal cannot allow Zidane, Henry, & Co., to run riot, France cannot allow themselves to be suckered into a barroom brawl like Holland and England were.

In the end, I believe France’s experience prevails. Zidane and his mates can feel the Cup nearly in their grasp and I think they’ll nick a tight one late in regulation or in extra time.

Of course, I’ve been known to be wrong on these things…

wc06: dodging rockets amidst german grief

While sitting in my fallout shelter here on the northeast coast of South Korea, listening to North Korean missiles splash down in the East Sea just outside the window of my flat, I bravely held my nerve and got down to the business of watching a World Cup semifinal match. Here’s what I saw:

Germany 0-2 Italy:

Let’s be honest about this, because I’m nothing if not honest: Italy were the better team this morning.

Damn, that hurt (but it’ll hurt even worse if I have to say it about Portugal, too, in 24 hours).

A pulsating match that gave us breathless fans extra time was decided on two late Italian goals, a stunner by Fabio Gross two minutes from time and then the polish from Alessandro del Pietro about a minute into the unannounced injury time, the very last kick of the match, in fact.

A match that had been simmering on boil since well before kickoff and had always seemed set to make those NK missiles seem like mere flying cupcakes, a chippy affair that had not been dirtily played (save for some rolling, diving, synchronised swimming, feigned amputations, and other dramatic histrionics from both sides), an intense meeting that had been mostly well-played and had seemed destined for extra time shortly after the break and for PSO when Italy hit the woodwork twice in the opening salvos of extra time suddenly, in a less-than-two-minute span, ended in spectacular fashion.

If it hadn’t have been for Jens Lehmann, or the aforementioned crossbar and post, Italy would have ended the match long before the 121st minute–or about the same time NK’s third or fifth or tenth missile littered my swimming area. This is not to say that Italy were heaps better than Germany on this occasion, but the Azzurri were the better team for most of the match. John Luke the Buffoon, er, Gianluigi Buffon was also tested on several occasions, especially in the first half, but the southern Europeans had the better chances, particularly late in the second half and in extra time.

This match was played in stark contrast to the Brasil-France quarterfinal from last weekend when both teams showed their respect for one another the entire game with repeated gestures of apologies for late tackles, hands offered to help opponents up from the ground and being accepted graciously, pregame reviews about the prowess and skill of the opponent, etc. This match had none of it: I remember twice where Germany refused to kick the ball out of bounds when there was an Italian allegedly hurt (the key being “allegedly”; this is Italy, after all) and at least three times when an Italian got stroppy and refused to shake hands with a German player offering to help him off the pitch.

Fortunately, the referee officiated the match levelheadedly and evenhandedly and only two cautions were issued, maybe three, I’m not sure, and the match never got ugly or out of hand, though it could easily have.

Germany had its chances throughout regulation and in extra time, only to be let down by poor finishing or untimely passing or, to give credit where it’s due, only to have the Italian defense turn them away. Their most notable chances in the first half came when Bernd Schneider beat Buffon but his shot just skimmed over the bar and then when Buffon twice stopped blasts from Lukas Podolski. Germany also had a first-half penalty claim that was denied by the referee when, in the box, Andrea Pirlo looked to have gotten an elbow up to block a shot by Michael Ballack.

In the end, the Italian defence held off the German advances and recorded their fifth clean sheet in six matches; in fact, their defence was so stout that they made most likely Golden Boot winner Miroslav Klose invisible for nearly the entire match. I don’t remember any contribution to the German cause from him.

The Italians ran out deserved winners and have to feel very confident about their chances at the weekend in the final against either nation they face, Portugal or France. Indeed, with their defence as suffocating as ever, they’re looking more and more formidable with each passing match.

And, now, back to your emergency chat sessions about the NK missile launch implications… For me, it’s simple: how are my swimming and surfing areas now affected and how, in the future, is my daily seafood ration going to taste?

wc06: it's down to four

The 2006 World Cup is down to four nations and three meaningful fixtures left (I refuse to count the abhorrently meaningless “3rd-place” match that’s played the night before the final; can anyone honestly remember ANY of the 3rd-place finishers from the past 20 years? Does anyone really care about this meaningless match? It’s just an excuse for FIFA to gouge the paying public an additional time).

It’s been an entertaining overall competition, to say the least, but one in which the officials and abysmal quality of refereeing have stolen too much of the spotlight. FIFA need to overhaul their precepts regarding what the officials deem booking and expulsion offences. The fact that nearly 350 cautions and almost 30 expulsions have been meted out is madness. The focus by FIFA on cleaning up the game has resulted in their missing the point and in interrupting the flow of the game.

Eliminate diving, flopping, players begging the officials or linesmen for red/yellow cards, grabbing one’s face in agony when it was the stomach that was hit, rolling around on the pitch like a drunken pirate on a ship listing in a typhoon, and other pussyfoot indiscretions and we might be getting somewhere.

When players such as Thierry Henry and Gary Neville–neither of whom have a history of such antics; Henry’s constant look of haughty indignation when flagged for offside or a foul are not antics to which I’m referring–start insinuating that they’ll have to begin resorting to licentious tactics in order to level a playing field full of thespians, it’s time for FIFA to get its collective head out of its collective arse and become aware of the game’s current course.

Anyway, on to the remaining matches…

Semifinal I: Germany v. Italy (4:00a, Wednesday morning, Korea)

Many of my friends who are German, or who have lived in Germany, or who drink Beck’s or St. Pauli’s Girl or Jaegermeister, or who just plain like German footie have been begging me since last weekend’s quarterfinals finished not to predict a German victory for fear I will hex the red, gold, and black.

Okay. I get it. I won’t.

However, even in the spirit of cooperation and good taste, I still can’t bring myself to type or utter the unthinkable: that a certain squad that wears not a kit resembling any part of its national flag will advance past the hosts and into next Monday morning’s (Korea time) final.
I can’t do it, so I’m not predicting a winner.

What I can say is this: I’m very suspicious of Torsten Frings’s being suspended for this fixture because of his alleged punching of an Argentine player in the after-match aftermath of their quarterfinal PSO.

That he was suspended is not the issue; punching a player while on the pitch or in the tunnel after the match is a deserved suspension. That it took an Italian crew of announcers and cameramen to bring this to light, and then for FIFA to act upon it as they did reeks to me. Am I the only one who sees a conflict of interest here?

Regardless, what’s done is done, which brings us to this: there are several tangents hovering above this match:

• Several months ago, when Germany were playing shite football and hearing whistles of disapproval from all sectors of the nation, the Azzurri blasted them, 4-1, in Florence.
• Germany have never beaten Italy in a World Cup fixture
• Italy have not lost a match since 2004, to Slovenia in a World Cup qualifier
• The site of the match, Dortmund, is a good-luck charm of sorts for the Germans: they’ve never lost an international match there

With the influential Frings out for Germany, expect coach Jurgen Klinsmann to insert Tim Borowski in his slot alongside Michael Ballack, who cheekily proffers that Germany “have no chance” against Italy, given the history between the two national squads.

For Italy, there is good and bad news regarding players fit or eligible to play: bad) defensive stalwart, Alessandro Nesta, is still unfit to play because of a leg injury; good) defender Marco Materazzi will return from suspension to shore up the defence in Nesta’s stead.

Italy have not conceded a goal scored by an opponent in their five matches thus far while Germany have the two leaders for the Golden Boot, Miroslav Klose and Lukas Podolski. Germany’s defence hasn’t been bad, but it’s not been its usual stout brick wall, either; meanwhile, until the quarterfinal match with Ukraine, Italy had been struggling to score goals since their opening match with Ghana.

In addition to the suspicious circumstances surrounding Frings’s suspension, the two nations have been trading potshots in the press since the tournament started and then throughout the competition itself. Let’s hope we have an official overseeing the match who will let the players play and will be invisible until necessary to make a call. It will be not be good if this one comes down to an Italian dive or a bad red card for either team.

With all this having been said, this should be an excellent match between two of the top teams in the world–there are six stars between the two nations, with each having won the Cup three times in their respective histories. The winner of this match will have a good shot at affixing a fourth star to their strip in the final at the weekend. Dortmund will be in a frenzy, the players prepared.

But I still won’t predict the winner, out of deference to what the first paragraph of this Match Preview mentioned…

Enjoy and may your team be triumphant!!

wc06: all-european semifinals

the following have now become official, if they hadn’t been already:

1. when it comes to predicting this world cup, i suck like a contestant at the world cup of fellatio.
2. wayne rooney can be suckered into putting a huge dent in his team’s chances to win.
3. cristiano ronaldo is such a pretty-boy, pansy-assed, gutless wanker drama queen that i can’t even finish…
4. i will not watch a world cup final between italy and portugal, the first world cup final, should it happen, that i will have missed since ‘78, when i was too young to know better
5. brasil’s back line is suspect
6. zinedine zidane is good
7. england’s penalty kick skills are not good
8. fifa’s selection process for officials in this world cup needs to revamped

i hope none of you readers has been harmed by my disastrous predictions for the bulk of this world cup. though i set a record in going 0-for-the-quaterfinals, i think i qualified my picks from yesterday with this very sentence: “…don’t believe anything I say. I chose Argentina and Ukraine in last night’s matches…”

brasil 0-1 france:

how wrong was i about france’s fitness and the ability of their old guys to play like ‘98?

my god, zidane was heroically superhuman last night for france. it must be his new gold boots or something because he’s been given a tonic of youth. he looked 25 years old last night–spry, lively, and as difficult for brasil to handle as a provoked viper. if i weren’t so bad at predicting, my money would be on france to fetch their second star now because of how resurgently young they look. apparently, that second half against spain in the round of 16 was no fluke.

together with zidane, thierry henry and franck ribery tortured brasil all night long. robert carlos and cafu at the back for brasil were made to look the fools and, on france’s goal, brasil’s marking was abysmal. two things stick out in my mind from zidane’s free kick that henry buried in the 57th minute:

1. how, on that kick, do six frenchmen end up in brasil’s box against only three (3!!) defenders?
2. how do brasil leave the most dangerous of those six frenchmen, henry, COMPLETELY UNMARKED??!?!

france’s strong midfield play strangled the sputtering brasil attack and les bleus’s shutdown defense never gave much space to brasil’s men upfront. france truly have brasil’s number and looked more brasil than did the south americans. france ran out an impressive and well-deserved win.

england 0-0 portugal (portugal win PSO, 2-4):

as for this one, what is there to say? to be honest, portugal are shit and make me sick. they are completely undeserving semifinalists. in the first hour, before wayne rooney’s sending off, portugal rarely looked threatening. it seemed that they really did miss deco and costinha in the middle. england were better in the first hour, but, as was their wont in this competition, they couldn’t take advantage.

david beckham re-suffered an injury to his right leg just six minutes after the restart and was benched, tearfully, and replaced by the ever-so-much-more effective aaron lennon. england were the much more dangerous team after this (un)lucky subsitution.

and, then, dodgy officiating and a foul scouser temper changed the day.

that rooney was sent off was mindboggling. he may have stamped on carvalho’s figs, but it was not as blatant as i’ve seen other unpunished acts go. then, he may have pushed cristiano ronaldo in the chest, but neither, taken separately, warranted an expulsion and, even when taken together, only warranted a caution, at the most. what i don’t understand is how, in the action that led to the push and the stamp, rooney was called for the foul to begin with. he was being wrestled to the ground by two defenders, yet was forced to conceded the foul.

and while rooney’s sending off was diabolical, so, too, was ronaldo’s wink at his coach after the expulsion: proud, obnoxious, a smug look of pleasure on his face. rooney deserves blame for letting ronaldo get under his skin, but neither he nor the ref is to blame for england’s loss; england are to blame.

i feel portugal are unworthy semifinalists at this 2006 european championships, er, world cup for this reason: they were still the inferior team after rooney’s sending off. they had no creativity, no character, no determination; they seemed content to get it to penalty kicks, where it’s a well-known fact that england are shambolic.

this is why the blame for the loss cannot be pinned on the ref or on rooney for being daft: england were, by far, the better side when they were a man down. lennon was fantastic, crouch was impressive with his ball-handling and efforts to help on defense, and owen hargreaves–england’s man of the tournament–was otherworldly in his play, his effort, his passion; in short, he would gladly have given his life for the england cause.

in the end, england didn’t deserve to win because, even with all of their chances, they were unable to make them count. portugal were so poor that they had very few chances, but they made count what they needed to make count: successfully converting penalties in the shootout.

so, the world cup semifinals resemble more of a european championships semifinal: germany v. italy in semifinal I and portugal v. france in semifinal II. check back later for those previews…

wc06: quarterfinals preview, day 2

What will day 2 of this year’s World Cup quarterfinals provide for us? Yesterday’s fixtures were a mixed bag: a riveting, nerve-racking penalty shootout in the first match and an absolute bludgeoning in the second one. How will tonight’s fixtures prevail? Will they bore us to tears? Will our nerves be so frayed by sunrise tomorrow that sleep will have nothing to do with us? Let’s take a look…

For regular readers of the World Cup posts here, it is patently obvious that, aside from the five nations representing Africa, my football loyalties lie firmly at the flagpole from which St. George’s Cross flies. My nerves are already shot and kickoff is still more than a third of the day away. I’ve sat here at my terminal and excoriated everything in this World Cup from the referees to Korea and its legion of football-ignorant fans to Italy’s disgraceful Tinkerbell footballing style to Ukraine and Serbinegro’s execrable kits to whatever else has crossed my rabid mind.

To this list, let me add one more thing: the incessant whingeing during this competition by England’s players. From Becks’s lamentations after England’s opening match about how “warm” it was on the pitch (note how he didn’t complain about the heat, but the “warmth” of the weather; who the hell complains about THAT? “Uh, honey, I don’t think I’m going to work today because it’s too cool outside. If it were negative thirty (-30) out, I’d brave it, but since it’s about 15 degrees Celsius, I don’t think I’ll chance it.”) to needing their wives and kids at the team hotel to boost their morale to Paul Robinson’s ridiculous claim that the state of the pitches are hindering England’s fabled passing game (er, Paul, England’s passing style of late is to huck it long to Ichabod Crouch in hopes that he’ll put his melon on it; the pitch has nothing to do with this crappy style of footie. Such a style can be done in a car park, a bamboo forest, or on an iceberg).

For the love of Shiva, fut the shuck up and play, England! You’re beginning to make Cristiano Ronaldo seem like a gracious man of class who ought to be knighted.

Okay, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, England are going to win tonight and here’s why: I have to get ONE prediction right out of four, don’t I?

Portugal are going to have their depth seriously tested in this match. Because of suspensions, they are going to be missing midfielders Deco and Costinha, who would be so crucial for Portugal in this battle between two talented midfields. The aforementioned Ronaldo is still suffering from a thigh injury suffered in the previous match with Holland and it’s still unclear at this time of writing whether or not he’ll play. Pretty boy though he is, my money is on his playing, which would boost Portugal’s chances.

Regardless, with Portugal’s two most important midfielders (begging Figo’s pardon, of course), England are going to have to take advantage of it by NOT HUCKING IT LONG for Ichabod. Gary Neville is apparently fit, which is bad news, in my opinion, for England because his form of late has been as effective as a box of dental floss in Parkinson’s Nursing Home for the Toothless. Neville’s presence relegates Michael Carrick to the sideline and puts Hargreaves in the holding role in the middle. Lampard tweaked an ankle in training on Thursday, but it seems as if he’ll be in the starting XI tonight, which, given his poor shooting performance of late, may not be as good a thing as one might usually be inclined to think.

In the end, I think the difference will be a fast-improving Wayne Rooney. He looked much better against Ecuador a few days ago and should be even sharper tonight. If he is, then England will play a more grounded passing game and not the dreaded huck ‘n’ chuck. He will be able to put pressure on Portugal’s fine back line of Carvalho, Meira, Nuno Valente, and Miguel and create chances for himself, Crouch, Cole, and a rampaging Stevie Gerrard. And, if Ronaldo is indeed not fit, who will step forward for the Portuguese in his stead?

Though Portugal and their coach, Luiz Felipe Scolari, have a bit of hex over England, and England have arguably looked consistently the worst of the eight quarterfinalists, England bring their “A” game tonight and edge Portugal to advance to a semifinal showdown with Brasil or France.

Speaking of which, though the French, it seems, have begun to hit their stride, Brasil, while perhaps lucky to have escaped Ghana, are still Brasil.

This is a marquee matchup, as was the Germany-Argentina match, because it pits the winners of the last three Cups (Brasil in ‘94 & ‘02 and France in ‘98), it features two three-time winners of FIFA’s world Player of the Year (Ronaldo and Zidane), and it’s a matchup of two nations with so much footballing history.

France are often accused of being too old and there’s no doubt that they are an ageing team. So, too, are Brasil, the difference being that Brasil’s young guns sitting on the bench are in more quantity, if not quality, than are France’s.

Brasil midfielders Kaka and Emerson look set to miss the match through injury, paving the way for Juninho and Gilberto Silva to replace them. Many Brasilians would also like to see Adriano, Ze Roberto, Cafu, and Roberto Carlos sit in favour of some hungrier, more talented, and (in some cases) younger stars-in-waiting pining away on the bench, but don’t expect too much gambling from coach Carlos Alberto Parreira on this front. Perhaps Robinho for Adriano, but that might be the only one.

Ghana exposed Brasil’s fragile defense and, were it not for some bad fortune, poor finishing, and nervous decisions on Ghana’s part, the match might have ended differently. France, with all of their experience, will not be unnerved at the sight of glorious scoring chances and could expose the Brasil backline as the shaky frauds I believe them to be. Zidane, Henry, and the young Ribery could run circles around this defense.

This is a match I’m having a hard time calling. I have no vested interest in either team and, should England win, playing either nation would get my (and every other England supporter’s) blood pumping: playing Brasil would bring a chance to avenge the devastating quarterfinal loss four years ago in Japan, but England v. France? Nothing more need be said.

As with Argentina v. Germany, I’m hoping for at least extra time. In the end, because of Brasil’s injury situation, I believe it’s going to give Parreira a chance late in the match, and perhaps extra time, to insert some of his youngsters, who are going to be the difference and Brasil will edge les bleus for the right to face England.

Of course, don’t believe anything I say. I chose Argentina and Ukraine in last night’s matches…

germany v. argentina & italy v. ukraine

Let’s just get something straight right off the bat:

I am a neither a fan of Germany, Argentina, Italy, or Ukraine. Though I do drink Beck’s beer, buy Patagonia outdoor clothing, eat pizza, and drink vodka (and, yes, it is known as vodka in all of the former soviet outposts, including the likes of Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Georgia {NOT the state, you southern American redneck!!!}, and Thereisntenoughvodkaintheworldformetodrinkistan), I own not a single kit or strip of any of these four nations.

However a fan of these four I may not be, I am a fan of football and, as I said earlier, I was really looking forward to the first quarterfinal between Germany and Argentina.

And while it may not have been the orgasmic, breathless porn theatre I predicted in previous, more sober moments on these very pages, it was still a spellbinding spectacle to withhold, er, behold, if only for the tension that grew more acute with every passing minute.

After a cautious first half that would have stunted the excitement of even the most ardent of Viagara users, the second half came to life when, four minutes after the restart, Argentina kickstarted the match on a Roberto Ayala goal from a corner kick that temporarily sent the home denizens into stunned silence.

Unfortunately for Argentinians everywhere, like it is with most men, that one euphoric eruption of a goal was followed by countless forays into the German cleave only for these attempted breaches to end time and again in off-target shots or flaccid displays of bravado. Meanwhile, the Germans were building and building and building, biding their time for a chance to score, waiting to hit the “G”oal spot in the Argentine defense. And so it came to pass when, ten minutes from time, Miroslav Klose rose to the occasion and put his head to the ball on a cross and buried it expertly.

80 million Germans were now in orgasmic rapture while 40 million Argentines were in unfulfilled anguish. What made the German goal even more difficult to accept for Argentinians was the fact that Argentina coach Jose Pekerman had, several minutes earlier, withdrawn two of his most potent offensive forces, striker Crespo and midfielder Riquelme, for defensive replacements in an effort to kill off the match, much like Italy has done in every single match since the dawn of time when they’ve gone ahead 1-nil.

I said it at the time, I said it again during extra time, and, just so I wouldn’t stray wide from my mantra, I repeated it again in the penalty shootout: WHAT THE HELL WAS PEKERMAN THINKING? Why withdraw two of his best players for defensive replacements against a host nation fully capable of scoring? Is Pekerman secretly Italian? Is he Sven Goran Eriksson’s long lost Argentine cousin? Playing so conservatively is not Argentina’s style—and it backfired like a rusty Plymouth in need of a tune-up.

When it went to penalty kicks after a told-you-so scoreless extra time, that Germany would win was as shocking as finding chlorophyll in the Amazon. To further dent my pre-match prognosticative prowess regarding this match, I even saw Ollie Kahn shake and spit on (in, apparently, an affirmation of brotherhood) arch-enemy Jens Lehmann’s hand for good luck right before the penalty shootout.

What a soulless way to end such a closely-fought match, but I don’t make the rules and penalty shootouts are, admittedly, intense to watch. Kudos to Germany for the fightback to level the score and then the courage to buck the shootout pressure and go perfect on penalty kicks.

As for that damned Italy-Ukraine fixture that followed, remind me never again to go the Mediterranean-Sea-v.-Black-Sea route again. I remain steadfast by my claims concerning those two bodies of water, but…

…Italy still sucks. They dismantled a poor, deer-in-headlights Ukraine side that looked as if they were in as much need of therapy as Paris Hilton inevitably one day will require. The match was so one-sided and so unappealing on so many levels that it’s not even worth an attempt at levity or serious contemplation. In fact, I’m so disgruntled that I’m using capital letters in this post. Ingrates 3-0 Unfit-daffodil-lookalikes.

Time to take a peek at the ol’ ancestral lineage and dust off some of that hidden German in me, just in time for the first semifinal Wednesday morning at 4am, Korea time.