Spain 1 Villa 63
Portugal 0
I took a day off before I wrote this one. I've been writing about football fairly much all the time I haven't been watching it, and it suddenly dawned on me it was nineteen days since I'd been further than the Tesco round the corner.
So I got on my bike and went down to the city. I was a bit nervous at first, but it all seemed to be where I'd left it. You've even added a couple of new bits. Shops, taxis, swing bridges, emergency services, you've kept them going right through the World Cup. Well done.
It was lovely to sit down by the harbour with a coffee and a burger and do the crossword in the paper while people chugged, sailed and rowed all around me. I didn't even mind the lack of football. It turns out that four to six hours a day for nineteen days in a row is actually enough. Football: a bit like cocaine, but much more like custard.
Unfortunately, the down side of a day off is that when you do finally get round to writing up a game report, your notes can seem a little thin. 12 short corner, Torres shoots just over, 15 wide right, unlucky, it says. I really don't recall, so I'm going to have to take my word for it. So, Torres was unlucky after twelve minutes when his shot from the right hand edge of the box went just over after Spain caught Portugal napping with a short corner, I'm going to write. And now I have.
There are some moments I remember with startling clarity. Ronaldo pushed by Piquet, no foul, I enjoyed that. Shortly followed by my favourite moment of the World Cup so far, Ronaldo quite clearly fouled, blatantly pushed over, nothing given ha ha twat. Truly these are great days we're living through.
Not for Ronaldo, though, or for Portugal. Tuesday in particular wasn't their day at all. They'd clearly been told to go out there and defend, and they kept two lines of four most of the time with Wonder Boy on his own up front. It worked for them for an hour, which is how long the tactic usually works for, but in the end the constant pressure wears you down and you crack.
It started with a diving header for Llorente, who'd come on for the unfit Torres. The defence seemed to just let him go, and if he'd managed to put it either side of the keeper it would have been in.
A minute later, and Villa's shot from the edge of the box just curled wide. They'd defended well, the Portugese, the keeper was doing everything asked of him, they'd even had a few chances themselves, but you could feel the momentum build.
The goal came two minutes later. The ball came through to Xavi in the box, his little back heel flick was so subtle you had to check the replay to be sure he'd made contact, but it just gave it the slight vector and momentum shift to land it perfectly in Villa's path. Eduardo saved the first shot, but the rebound came back to Villa, who made no mistake with his second.
It looked fractionally offside to me, but you'd be hard pressed to work up any sense of outrage for a poor and unambitious Portugal side, especially one with Ronaldo in it. At the end they may have been the victims of another injustice, when Costa was sent off for elbowing Capdevila. Replays were inconclusive, an odd thing to say about an incident where one player elbows another in the face, but it was genuinely hard to tell if there was contact or not from what we saw.
The whistle blew soon after, and that was that. So, Spain go marching on, and Portugal go home. Bye Ronaldo. Bye bye. Twat.
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
Paraguay v Japan
Paraguay 0 - 0 Japan (after extra time)
Paraguay win 5-3 on penalties
Forgot to hit Publish Post, sorry [Ed]
There was a game before the penalties, but I won't detain you with it. Suffice it to say that the first half, the last half hour and the second half of extra time were rubbish. I can't testify to minutes 45 to 60, they may have been brilliant, but after the gripping first half I found it impossible to tear myself away from Countdown. I turned back in the end, it was that or Deal or No Deal, but judging by the general tone of the commentators on my return the entertainment value of the lost fifteen minutes seems to have been intermittent at best.
The first half of extra time was fractionally better, but not sufficiently to induce me to describe it, so we'll skip straight to the penalty shootout. Komano hit the bar with Japan's third, Paraguay scored all five, and that was that. That's something of a cursory description as well, isn't it? Oh well, sometimes you lay the golden egg and sometimes it's just a wet fart.
Paraguay's success means four South American teams make the final eight. Given that we started with five out of 32, and Chile were knocked out by Brazil, I'm sure you can deduce that there are still as many South American sides left as mathematics would allow.
Japan's exit ends the direct interest of the continent of Asia in this tournament. To go with the four South American teams there are three European ones and Ghana for the host continent. As it seems to be viewed now. Now England have gone am I supposed to cheer for the European countries? Actually, I'm cheering for the countries who have never won it before. It was so nice when France won in 1998, it would be nice to have it happen again. Otherwise, I'd like Argentina to win so I can clean up in the office sweepstake.
Next, the big one. Spain against Portugal, to complete the quarter final line up. Tomorrow and Thursday we get two days without football, and judging by this game it's about time.
I know what you're all wondering - did I get the conundrum? How could you doubt me? Now SKEDADDLE.
Paraguay win 5-3 on penalties
Forgot to hit Publish Post, sorry [Ed]
There was a game before the penalties, but I won't detain you with it. Suffice it to say that the first half, the last half hour and the second half of extra time were rubbish. I can't testify to minutes 45 to 60, they may have been brilliant, but after the gripping first half I found it impossible to tear myself away from Countdown. I turned back in the end, it was that or Deal or No Deal, but judging by the general tone of the commentators on my return the entertainment value of the lost fifteen minutes seems to have been intermittent at best.
The first half of extra time was fractionally better, but not sufficiently to induce me to describe it, so we'll skip straight to the penalty shootout. Komano hit the bar with Japan's third, Paraguay scored all five, and that was that. That's something of a cursory description as well, isn't it? Oh well, sometimes you lay the golden egg and sometimes it's just a wet fart.
Paraguay's success means four South American teams make the final eight. Given that we started with five out of 32, and Chile were knocked out by Brazil, I'm sure you can deduce that there are still as many South American sides left as mathematics would allow.
Japan's exit ends the direct interest of the continent of Asia in this tournament. To go with the four South American teams there are three European ones and Ghana for the host continent. As it seems to be viewed now. Now England have gone am I supposed to cheer for the European countries? Actually, I'm cheering for the countries who have never won it before. It was so nice when France won in 1998, it would be nice to have it happen again. Otherwise, I'd like Argentina to win so I can clean up in the office sweepstake.
Next, the big one. Spain against Portugal, to complete the quarter final line up. Tomorrow and Thursday we get two days without football, and judging by this game it's about time.
I know what you're all wondering - did I get the conundrum? How could you doubt me? Now SKEDADDLE.
Monday, 28 June 2010
Brazil v Chile
Brazil 3 Juan 34, Fabiano 38, Robinho 59
Chile 0
Let's not beat around the bush. We all knew that was going to happen. Chile will have groaned when they saw the group draw, and realised how long the odds were on getting anyone other than Brazil in this game. They might have hoped for something different when Switzerland beat Spain, but they never scored enough goals to be top of the group, so by the time they played Spain themselves they must have seen the writing on the wall. And let's not pretend we felt any different when we realised we were going to have to play Germany.
It wasn't the game of the tournament, although it was the best game so far that's had Brazil in it. I still haven't forgiven them for the Portugal game, to be honest. To be fair, they seemed to spend less time clutching their gaping wounds and screaming for a medic than they have in previous appearances.
And they played well enough to have the first six chances that made it into my notebook, including three goals. They did all their little tricks, but it was a defender's header from a corner that put them one up. Juan took a leaf out of the Louis Carey school of defensive attacking, planting himself in the middle of the box, rising high and powering it in. Come on, I've been really good, surely I'm allowed one.
The second was just the kind of thing we're desperate to be able to say we've come to expect. Robinho free down the left on the break, the defender beaten, the cross to Kaka, the precision pass between two covering defenders to Fabiano, the unstoppable shot. You know, that kind of thing. The stuff they owe us somehow.
The third was the same kind of thing again. The Ramirez run into the heart of the Chilean defence, the defensive slip which allowed the pass across to Robinho, the shot that curves round the keeper and back in just in time. It looks so easy sometimes, football.
Chile were disappointing in this one. There was one particular moment that summed up their evening. Three nil down with twenty minutes left, they got a break, they dashed forward en masse, as they really needed to, but just couldn't seem to get the ball moving as fast as they were. Brazil took it back, and used the opportunity to show how breaks should be done. Five seconds after they'd picked it up on the edge of their own half Robinho was shooting from wide right. Bravo saved well to keep the score to three, but it was a symbolic moment.
They haven't been terrible, Chile, but they've never quite delivered. They laboured rather against a semi-pro Honduran team and an unambitious Swiss one, got one nil wins over both and threw their tournament away in the last fifteen minutes of the first half against Spain. Recovering later in that game to play the best football we've seen from them, they then settled for the one goal deficit that gave them the odds over Switzerland, when cold logic must have told them another goal would have made all the difference to their hopes. Brazil did the necessary, and home they go.
Brazil get a quarter final against Holland, with a semifinal against Uruguay or Ghana to follow. Tomorrow, Paraguay against Japan and, more tellingly, Spain against Portugal.
Chile 0
Let's not beat around the bush. We all knew that was going to happen. Chile will have groaned when they saw the group draw, and realised how long the odds were on getting anyone other than Brazil in this game. They might have hoped for something different when Switzerland beat Spain, but they never scored enough goals to be top of the group, so by the time they played Spain themselves they must have seen the writing on the wall. And let's not pretend we felt any different when we realised we were going to have to play Germany.
It wasn't the game of the tournament, although it was the best game so far that's had Brazil in it. I still haven't forgiven them for the Portugal game, to be honest. To be fair, they seemed to spend less time clutching their gaping wounds and screaming for a medic than they have in previous appearances.
And they played well enough to have the first six chances that made it into my notebook, including three goals. They did all their little tricks, but it was a defender's header from a corner that put them one up. Juan took a leaf out of the Louis Carey school of defensive attacking, planting himself in the middle of the box, rising high and powering it in. Come on, I've been really good, surely I'm allowed one.
The second was just the kind of thing we're desperate to be able to say we've come to expect. Robinho free down the left on the break, the defender beaten, the cross to Kaka, the precision pass between two covering defenders to Fabiano, the unstoppable shot. You know, that kind of thing. The stuff they owe us somehow.
The third was the same kind of thing again. The Ramirez run into the heart of the Chilean defence, the defensive slip which allowed the pass across to Robinho, the shot that curves round the keeper and back in just in time. It looks so easy sometimes, football.
Chile were disappointing in this one. There was one particular moment that summed up their evening. Three nil down with twenty minutes left, they got a break, they dashed forward en masse, as they really needed to, but just couldn't seem to get the ball moving as fast as they were. Brazil took it back, and used the opportunity to show how breaks should be done. Five seconds after they'd picked it up on the edge of their own half Robinho was shooting from wide right. Bravo saved well to keep the score to three, but it was a symbolic moment.
They haven't been terrible, Chile, but they've never quite delivered. They laboured rather against a semi-pro Honduran team and an unambitious Swiss one, got one nil wins over both and threw their tournament away in the last fifteen minutes of the first half against Spain. Recovering later in that game to play the best football we've seen from them, they then settled for the one goal deficit that gave them the odds over Switzerland, when cold logic must have told them another goal would have made all the difference to their hopes. Brazil did the necessary, and home they go.
Brazil get a quarter final against Holland, with a semifinal against Uruguay or Ghana to follow. Tomorrow, Paraguay against Japan and, more tellingly, Spain against Portugal.
Holland v Slovakia
Holland 2 Robben 18, Sjneider 84
Slovakia 1 Vittek (pen) 90 + 4
The B list countries are all going home now. They shine, they sparkle, they put out Italy or France, in England's case they don't do any of those things, but as we head towards the quarter finals the big fish are taking over.
It's like a feeding frenzy, taken to its logical conclusion. During qualifying there are plenty of fish in the sea, and everyone contents themselves with the small fry. By the tournament itself the Balkan bait ball is mostly gone, and the smaller hunters become the hunted. Once they get out of the group stage it's bye bye to halibut, herring, and English carp, and before we know it the real sharks are on their own, thrashing around and gorging on each other until one monstrous hammerhead emerges triumphant from the debris of scale and crunched bones.
You get the idea. Not that Holland will be describing themselves as one of the really big fish. After all, it's not like they've ever won it, or anything.
The golden generation (a phrase so cheapened by its application to the current England squad that it's hard to use it without spitting) took them to two finals, in 1974 and 1978, but they lost to Germany, then Argentina. Since then we've had the traditional flashes of greatness (one thinks immediately of the Bergkamp goal against Argentina in 1998), but they always seem to burn brightly, then burn out.
This year, they're taking a different tack. No more 6-1 demolition jobs, like the one they inflicted on Yugoslavia in Euro 2000. They were hosting the tournament, and they preened and strutted to a semifinal defeat by Italy that seemed impossible.
This time the preening and the strutting have been left to lesser teams. They've beaten Denmark, Japan, Cameroon and now Slovakia, scored seven goals to two conceded, yet they seem to have ghosted through the tournament.
We're seeing a new, efficient Holland, without the flamboyancy, haircuts or public spats of yesteryear. I like what I'm seeing. Mind you, they've got Brazil next.
The big news for them is that Arjen Robben is back. He played in the Champions League final for Bayern, but hurt himself in a friendly against Hungary a week before the tournament began. They've done fine without him, but they were glad of his goal today. The way he cut inside from the right and put the ball precisely through the minute gap between converging defenders' legs will have brought back happy memories from the days before gold was devalued. Three Lions? Sealions more like. Yes I'm still angry. It's still only the day after the Grim Day, you know. Not Better Yet Day, we call it, and cursed be those who fail to understand.
Yes, let's get back to Holland. The Slovakian goalkeeper Mucha gave them the second, running out to get a ball he was never going to reach. Kuyt headed over him and passed it back to Sjneider, who shot into an empty net. It was a shame for Mucha, who'd had a good game and a good tournament, but that's feeding frenzies for you, no respecters of effort.
The laws of sporting selection relented long enough to allow Slovakia a nice little bonus at the end, as they won a penalty with the last move of the match. Vittek scored, to move to four goals for the tournament. The final whistle blew while they were celebrating. It was how they'd have wanted to go.
The four days since the Italy game were a nice little interlude for them, before normal service was resumed. They didn't entertain against Paraguay or New Zealand, but they've made up for it since. Holland have Brazil, and the winner just has to beat Uruguay or Ghana to get to the final, so it would be a reckless punter who put their money anywhere else, if you ask me.
Slovakia 1 Vittek (pen) 90 + 4
The B list countries are all going home now. They shine, they sparkle, they put out Italy or France, in England's case they don't do any of those things, but as we head towards the quarter finals the big fish are taking over.
It's like a feeding frenzy, taken to its logical conclusion. During qualifying there are plenty of fish in the sea, and everyone contents themselves with the small fry. By the tournament itself the Balkan bait ball is mostly gone, and the smaller hunters become the hunted. Once they get out of the group stage it's bye bye to halibut, herring, and English carp, and before we know it the real sharks are on their own, thrashing around and gorging on each other until one monstrous hammerhead emerges triumphant from the debris of scale and crunched bones.
You get the idea. Not that Holland will be describing themselves as one of the really big fish. After all, it's not like they've ever won it, or anything.
The golden generation (a phrase so cheapened by its application to the current England squad that it's hard to use it without spitting) took them to two finals, in 1974 and 1978, but they lost to Germany, then Argentina. Since then we've had the traditional flashes of greatness (one thinks immediately of the Bergkamp goal against Argentina in 1998), but they always seem to burn brightly, then burn out.
This year, they're taking a different tack. No more 6-1 demolition jobs, like the one they inflicted on Yugoslavia in Euro 2000. They were hosting the tournament, and they preened and strutted to a semifinal defeat by Italy that seemed impossible.
This time the preening and the strutting have been left to lesser teams. They've beaten Denmark, Japan, Cameroon and now Slovakia, scored seven goals to two conceded, yet they seem to have ghosted through the tournament.
We're seeing a new, efficient Holland, without the flamboyancy, haircuts or public spats of yesteryear. I like what I'm seeing. Mind you, they've got Brazil next.
The big news for them is that Arjen Robben is back. He played in the Champions League final for Bayern, but hurt himself in a friendly against Hungary a week before the tournament began. They've done fine without him, but they were glad of his goal today. The way he cut inside from the right and put the ball precisely through the minute gap between converging defenders' legs will have brought back happy memories from the days before gold was devalued. Three Lions? Sealions more like. Yes I'm still angry. It's still only the day after the Grim Day, you know. Not Better Yet Day, we call it, and cursed be those who fail to understand.
Yes, let's get back to Holland. The Slovakian goalkeeper Mucha gave them the second, running out to get a ball he was never going to reach. Kuyt headed over him and passed it back to Sjneider, who shot into an empty net. It was a shame for Mucha, who'd had a good game and a good tournament, but that's feeding frenzies for you, no respecters of effort.
The laws of sporting selection relented long enough to allow Slovakia a nice little bonus at the end, as they won a penalty with the last move of the match. Vittek scored, to move to four goals for the tournament. The final whistle blew while they were celebrating. It was how they'd have wanted to go.
The four days since the Italy game were a nice little interlude for them, before normal service was resumed. They didn't entertain against Paraguay or New Zealand, but they've made up for it since. Holland have Brazil, and the winner just has to beat Uruguay or Ghana to get to the final, so it would be a reckless punter who put their money anywhere else, if you ask me.
Argentina v Mexico
Argentina 3 Tevez 25 52, Higuain 33
Mexico 1 Hernandez 71
They could have been ahead early, the Mexicans, and then I'd be writing a different story. Salcedo's shot out of nowhere crashed against the bar after eight minutes, and then a minute later Dos Santos hit one just wide. The replay showed it was actually going just inside the post when it left his boot, but then bent agonisingly away. Thrilling stuff, anyway. Why can't we play like this? was the general feeling across the Enger-land.
So a good start by Mexico, and a respectable performance throughout. Which doesn't help the people of Mexico now, except that their Grim Day has now become a Day of Rage, directed at FIFA and the officials after the first Argentinian goal.
Actually, FIFA and the Officials is a good name for a band. Like Florence and the Machine. What do Florence and the Machine do when they break down? They call Mike and the Mechanics. Boom-boom! Thank you Twitter, who says you're a waste of time?
Yes, alright, the goal. It came when Tevez got onto a Messi through ball, and his effort was blocked by keeper Perez as he charged out. Messi chipped it back in and Tevez headed it home from short range, but as he was about two yards offside we all just assumed it would be a free kick.
When the goal was given, there was incredulity. We all waited for the replay to tell us there was a Mexican by the left or right byline playing him on, or something, but no, it was just an absurd decision.
In contravention of FIFA's policy of rigid control over the facts, someone in the stadium chose to replay the goal on screen. The mistake was there to see, but because video evidence isn't allowed to be taken into consideration, the referee was obliged to allow the goal.
It was a terrible, embarrassing moment for football, and FIFA have acted today. Their spokesman Nicolas Maingot has promised to make sure such replays are never shown again. I kid you not, that's their response. I don't want to suggest that FIFA are a moribund bureaucracy blindly adhering to obsolete doctrines, or anything, but I can't help noticing his name is an anagram of Maginot.
Most of you will have seen the replay by now. I expect it made the news, as the second in a series of two interesting goals. There's an old Chinese curse, may your team concede interesting goals. I haven't talked about the first one yet, but I may be calm enough now.
In the earlier game, the England game, a Frank Lampard shot hit the bar, bounced over the line by a clear yard and come out again. There, I've said it. It feels better now it's out. But it doesn't make England the same as Mexico.
This is because Mexico played well but their fate was sealed by a linesman, a defensive error and the moment of Tevez genius we'd all been waiting for. Not quite Maxi Rodriguez from the 2006 game, but quite good enough to win a halfway won game. In my notes I've written you have to say that's magnificent, and I think you know which performance of high handed chicanery and effortless genius I'm talking about. England on the other hand played appallingly, and their fate was sealed by their own failure to apply the basics.
You could argue, if you were so minded, that had the Lampard goal counted England wouldn't have had to be attacking so hard and leaving gaps at the back, but then you'd have to explain why they managed to leave gaps at the back at 0-0 and 1-0 in the first half, why they neglected to plan for the not entirely implausible event of German breakaway attacks and why Terry chose yesterday to forget to only be a twat off the field. Enough.
Yes, the first game of the day keeps spilling into the second. I expect it'll keep spilling into my Christmas card greetings as well. These aren't some shallow wounds we're all carrying, you know.
The Mexicans pulled one back. Hernandez got a through ball from Gerrardo Torrado (I wonder if he's related to Melanie Bellamy?), turned his defender in the box and blasted home from short range, and you felt they might make things harder for Argentina, but in the end the game was only ever going to go one way.
So Argentina go through against Mexico, just like 2006, and they get Germany in the quarter finals, again just like 2006. Germany won that one on penalties, but I've got a feeling it might go the other way this time . After all, this is South America's year.
Mexico 1 Hernandez 71
They could have been ahead early, the Mexicans, and then I'd be writing a different story. Salcedo's shot out of nowhere crashed against the bar after eight minutes, and then a minute later Dos Santos hit one just wide. The replay showed it was actually going just inside the post when it left his boot, but then bent agonisingly away. Thrilling stuff, anyway. Why can't we play like this? was the general feeling across the Enger-land.
So a good start by Mexico, and a respectable performance throughout. Which doesn't help the people of Mexico now, except that their Grim Day has now become a Day of Rage, directed at FIFA and the officials after the first Argentinian goal.
Actually, FIFA and the Officials is a good name for a band. Like Florence and the Machine. What do Florence and the Machine do when they break down? They call Mike and the Mechanics. Boom-boom! Thank you Twitter, who says you're a waste of time?
Yes, alright, the goal. It came when Tevez got onto a Messi through ball, and his effort was blocked by keeper Perez as he charged out. Messi chipped it back in and Tevez headed it home from short range, but as he was about two yards offside we all just assumed it would be a free kick.
When the goal was given, there was incredulity. We all waited for the replay to tell us there was a Mexican by the left or right byline playing him on, or something, but no, it was just an absurd decision.
In contravention of FIFA's policy of rigid control over the facts, someone in the stadium chose to replay the goal on screen. The mistake was there to see, but because video evidence isn't allowed to be taken into consideration, the referee was obliged to allow the goal.
It was a terrible, embarrassing moment for football, and FIFA have acted today. Their spokesman Nicolas Maingot has promised to make sure such replays are never shown again. I kid you not, that's their response. I don't want to suggest that FIFA are a moribund bureaucracy blindly adhering to obsolete doctrines, or anything, but I can't help noticing his name is an anagram of Maginot.
Most of you will have seen the replay by now. I expect it made the news, as the second in a series of two interesting goals. There's an old Chinese curse, may your team concede interesting goals. I haven't talked about the first one yet, but I may be calm enough now.
In the earlier game, the England game, a Frank Lampard shot hit the bar, bounced over the line by a clear yard and come out again. There, I've said it. It feels better now it's out. But it doesn't make England the same as Mexico.
This is because Mexico played well but their fate was sealed by a linesman, a defensive error and the moment of Tevez genius we'd all been waiting for. Not quite Maxi Rodriguez from the 2006 game, but quite good enough to win a halfway won game. In my notes I've written you have to say that's magnificent, and I think you know which performance of high handed chicanery and effortless genius I'm talking about. England on the other hand played appallingly, and their fate was sealed by their own failure to apply the basics.
You could argue, if you were so minded, that had the Lampard goal counted England wouldn't have had to be attacking so hard and leaving gaps at the back, but then you'd have to explain why they managed to leave gaps at the back at 0-0 and 1-0 in the first half, why they neglected to plan for the not entirely implausible event of German breakaway attacks and why Terry chose yesterday to forget to only be a twat off the field. Enough.
Yes, the first game of the day keeps spilling into the second. I expect it'll keep spilling into my Christmas card greetings as well. These aren't some shallow wounds we're all carrying, you know.
The Mexicans pulled one back. Hernandez got a through ball from Gerrardo Torrado (I wonder if he's related to Melanie Bellamy?), turned his defender in the box and blasted home from short range, and you felt they might make things harder for Argentina, but in the end the game was only ever going to go one way.
So Argentina go through against Mexico, just like 2006, and they get Germany in the quarter finals, again just like 2006. Germany won that one on penalties, but I've got a feeling it might go the other way this time . After all, this is South America's year.
Sunday, 27 June 2010
England v Germany
Germany 4 Klose, Podolski, Mueller 2
England 1 Upson, and Lampard really
Well, at least things can get back to normal now. The BBC button on my toolbar will soon be reset to Football, rather than World Cup 2010, and in six weeks time we'll be kicking off at Ashton Gate. Our first game is against Millwall, and if anything's going to banish any lingering thoughts of the beautiful game that is.
I'm sure the rage and pessimism will be back too, as soon as the first soft goal goes in. Fookin' get it together City! they'll shout. That was England defending, that was!
Fans like ironic twists on their heckles, and it's not just England giving them new material. The next time there's a dirty foul or someone feigns an injury, they can recycle an old favourite. Brazil! It's just like watching Brazil! The baseline assumptions remain the same, though. How do you know when someone's feigning an injury? All away side injuries are feigned, and if they're carried off on a stretcher and substituted, it's just method acting. I've missed it, and it'll be nice to be back.
I don't know if Mick Jagger has a club, but he was back in the crowd again for England, after watching the USA crash and burn with Bill Clinton the day before. He must be having a shit World Cup. Just like us. Mark Lawrenson said he probably wasn't getting any satisfaction, but that's Lawrenson all over, always with the obvious line. It's not like he's evil or anything, but if you walked into your village pub and he was in there on his own, you'd pretend you were just getting some matches and walk out again.
Am I a little more barbed today? Is the inner me leaking out again? It's because today's the day. Every two years we go through the Grim Day. And hasn't it come round early this year?
Actually, two years ago we never even made it to the tournament. Croatia did for us, on a wet November night in 2007. It felt strange and premature, having the Grim Day in the winter. Normally the weather makes you feel worse ironically, rather than actually echoing your mood like some Shakespearean heathland storm.
In 2006 it was Portugal that did for us. I blogged that World Cup as well, and this is an extract from the post I wrote about our exit that time.
In fact, they both ended up with Gallic and Iberian Grim Days of their own, and Germany have a 12.5% chance of avoiding the same fate. Oh, and for those who may be tempted to carp, no I haven't just done the Douglas Bader joke for the third World Cup in a row, I've quoted it. So there.
Much of what I wrote back when being a grey haired old fart was almost novel still applies now it's become routine. There are two differences this time though.
Firstly, Grim Day 2006 happened just after the first episode of a Doctor Who two-parter, so we had to cope with Cybermen running amok, Daleks occupying London and going out of the World Cup all at the same time. This year we've just had the final episode of a series, so although I haven't watched it since the tournament started I'm assuming everything in the rest of the universe is now fine.
Secondly, last time I was able to write that at least England - finally - managed to give us some halfway decent football. This time we've had the disappointing but ultimately successful group stage, without the brief recovery.
Now be off with you. I have to turn my head until the darkness goes.
England 1 Upson, and Lampard really
Well, at least things can get back to normal now. The BBC button on my toolbar will soon be reset to Football, rather than World Cup 2010, and in six weeks time we'll be kicking off at Ashton Gate. Our first game is against Millwall, and if anything's going to banish any lingering thoughts of the beautiful game that is.
I'm sure the rage and pessimism will be back too, as soon as the first soft goal goes in. Fookin' get it together City! they'll shout. That was England defending, that was!
Fans like ironic twists on their heckles, and it's not just England giving them new material. The next time there's a dirty foul or someone feigns an injury, they can recycle an old favourite. Brazil! It's just like watching Brazil! The baseline assumptions remain the same, though. How do you know when someone's feigning an injury? All away side injuries are feigned, and if they're carried off on a stretcher and substituted, it's just method acting. I've missed it, and it'll be nice to be back.
I don't know if Mick Jagger has a club, but he was back in the crowd again for England, after watching the USA crash and burn with Bill Clinton the day before. He must be having a shit World Cup. Just like us. Mark Lawrenson said he probably wasn't getting any satisfaction, but that's Lawrenson all over, always with the obvious line. It's not like he's evil or anything, but if you walked into your village pub and he was in there on his own, you'd pretend you were just getting some matches and walk out again.
Am I a little more barbed today? Is the inner me leaking out again? It's because today's the day. Every two years we go through the Grim Day. And hasn't it come round early this year?
Actually, two years ago we never even made it to the tournament. Croatia did for us, on a wet November night in 2007. It felt strange and premature, having the Grim Day in the winter. Normally the weather makes you feel worse ironically, rather than actually echoing your mood like some Shakespearean heathland storm.
In 2006 it was Portugal that did for us. I blogged that World Cup as well, and this is an extract from the post I wrote about our exit that time.
It’s just vicious, really. Like free range calves, they get to run around the field for a few weeks, but then out come the chainsaws. Discounting the third place playoff, a poor apology for a wooden spoon game which is now beyond our wildest dreams, all the last sixteen games exist entirely for the purpose of inflicting the dreary ennui of defeat on one nation after another.
Children cry themselves to sleep, grown men hide under blankets all day, flags droop sadly on the bonnets of cars. Everywhere around the world. Including qualification, every country in the entire world except one goes through this every four years, every two years if you count the continental cups.
At least England - finally - managed to give us some halfway decent football. With their backs to the wall, they played with the legs of a leaping gazelle and the fighting spirit of Douglas Bader, as opposed to the other way round like they had been doing.
[...]
And the Portuguese have a semifinal with France. Good luck, you both have a 25% chance of not ending up feeling like we do.
Children cry themselves to sleep, grown men hide under blankets all day, flags droop sadly on the bonnets of cars. Everywhere around the world. Including qualification, every country in the entire world except one goes through this every four years, every two years if you count the continental cups.
At least England - finally - managed to give us some halfway decent football. With their backs to the wall, they played with the legs of a leaping gazelle and the fighting spirit of Douglas Bader, as opposed to the other way round like they had been doing.
[...]
And the Portuguese have a semifinal with France. Good luck, you both have a 25% chance of not ending up feeling like we do.
In fact, they both ended up with Gallic and Iberian Grim Days of their own, and Germany have a 12.5% chance of avoiding the same fate. Oh, and for those who may be tempted to carp, no I haven't just done the Douglas Bader joke for the third World Cup in a row, I've quoted it. So there.
Much of what I wrote back when being a grey haired old fart was almost novel still applies now it's become routine. There are two differences this time though.
Firstly, Grim Day 2006 happened just after the first episode of a Doctor Who two-parter, so we had to cope with Cybermen running amok, Daleks occupying London and going out of the World Cup all at the same time. This year we've just had the final episode of a series, so although I haven't watched it since the tournament started I'm assuming everything in the rest of the universe is now fine.
Secondly, last time I was able to write that at least England - finally - managed to give us some halfway decent football. This time we've had the disappointing but ultimately successful group stage, without the brief recovery.
Now be off with you. I have to turn my head until the darkness goes.
Saturday, 26 June 2010
Ghana v USA
Ghana 2 - 1 USA (after extra time)
Boateng 5 Donovan (pen) 62
Gyan 93
The whole stadium was thrilled by this one, except the red white and blue bits. Africa have survived in the competition.
Boateng's goal came from the first meaningful attack of the game. He picked it up two yards inside the American half after Clark dallied and lost the ball in a tackle, and just ran at the goal and kicked it in. You felt the US defence might have had more of an opinion about it, but they clearly felt it was an internal matter for the Ghanaians to resolve themselves, and chose to stand aside.
Perhaps they were confused by the opposition names. There were two Mensahs, for instance, John and Jonathan. The name may be popular in Ghana because of its historical association with John Mensah Sarbah, an early nationalist leader. There are also two Boatengs, although one of them plays for Germany - Jerome, his half brother. And then there's Amoah, Asamoah and Asamoah Gyan. So maybe the US team were having difficulty working out exactly who they were supposed to pick up, or maybe they were just a bit slow out of the blocks.
They rallied, not for the first time this tournament. They'd come back from an early goal against England, and from two down against Slovenia. Against Algeria, an injury time goal saw them through.
And they're ranked 14th in the world, as against Ghana's 32nd. Granted, America and Mexico tend to acquire rankings above their skills because they play so many easy games against small Caribbean islands in the CONCACAF qualification rounds, but they're still a grownup team whose players play in the top European sides. Except Jay Demerit, who plays for Watford, but even he's thinking of higher things, we hear. Although to be honest, if I was an American called Demerit, I'd insist it was pronounced Demerit, not Demerit.
Their manager Bob Bradley is top notch as well, and he's always prepared to make the hard calls. After half an hour he took off Clark and brought on Edu. There was a touching moment when he took time out to give Clark a hug, and whisper consoling words in his ear. It didn't seem to do much for Clark, but as managers always say in these situations, who wants a player that's happy to be taken off?
Their best players, as so often in the past, were Dempsey and Donovan. Dempsey found Findley alone in the box, and Kingson had to make the save. Jim Beglin reminded us that Dempsey's pass came off the same left foot that he used to score against Robert Green, and to be fair we've no grounds for claiming it was a different one. Although that particular shot was a powder puff effort that the keeper was unlucky with, as they are sometimes, and hardly something to boast about.
There was a similar chance at the other end, as Asamoah Not Gyan pounced on a moment of indecision from Demerit and had his shot well saved, and then it was half time. The camera lingered on the strange sight of Bill Clinton and Mick Jagger watching the game together, surely the most powerful dirty old men at the tournament. Somewhere in the world Jerry Hall and Monica Lewinsky were realising how much they had in common. You can't always get what you want, said the commentator about the state of the game, but I couldn't help thinking about Clinton's sticky fingers. He seemed to know a lot about the game, Clinton, or maybe he's just a cocksure little twat. Perhaps next time they could mike him up, then we'd know.
Bradley repeated his trick of using Feilhaber as a second half supersub, and he was unlucky to have his shot saved at point-blank range, after Ghana had failed to cut out a cross and Altidore had flicked it on to him. it was the Dempsey Donovan partnership that got them back on level terms, though.
Dempsey burst through some rather lazy Ghanaian defending, and into the box. Jonathan Mensah brought him down, and Donovan took the penalty. It went in off the post, Donovan breathed a sigh of relief and the momentum shifted to the US.
For a while it was mainly Kingson in goal that kept Ghana in it. First he went in feet first and got the ball just ahead of Altidore, carried it through the challenge and cleared on the other side of him. Then he saved from Bradley at close range. He got lucky though when Altidore rode a Mensah challenge in the box, tumbled and from a prone position shot just wide.
Extra time, and Ghana sorted it early. Three minutes in, Gyan scored a goal really very much like Boateng's at the start of the game, just running in and shooting, although this time it went over Howard rather than in at the near post. It took the heart out of the Yanks, whose most meaningful chance for the rest of the game was a hook shot from Demerit in the last minute, that the keeper watched sail a foot over the bar.
So relief for the local fans, and the quarter finals will have one side from Africa. More accurately, sub-Saharan Africa, as the fate of Algeria seems to have met with widespread indifference. I wonder why.
But a relief, anyway. Tomorrow, England.
Boateng 5 Donovan (pen) 62
Gyan 93
The whole stadium was thrilled by this one, except the red white and blue bits. Africa have survived in the competition.
Boateng's goal came from the first meaningful attack of the game. He picked it up two yards inside the American half after Clark dallied and lost the ball in a tackle, and just ran at the goal and kicked it in. You felt the US defence might have had more of an opinion about it, but they clearly felt it was an internal matter for the Ghanaians to resolve themselves, and chose to stand aside.
Perhaps they were confused by the opposition names. There were two Mensahs, for instance, John and Jonathan. The name may be popular in Ghana because of its historical association with John Mensah Sarbah, an early nationalist leader. There are also two Boatengs, although one of them plays for Germany - Jerome, his half brother. And then there's Amoah, Asamoah and Asamoah Gyan. So maybe the US team were having difficulty working out exactly who they were supposed to pick up, or maybe they were just a bit slow out of the blocks.
They rallied, not for the first time this tournament. They'd come back from an early goal against England, and from two down against Slovenia. Against Algeria, an injury time goal saw them through.
And they're ranked 14th in the world, as against Ghana's 32nd. Granted, America and Mexico tend to acquire rankings above their skills because they play so many easy games against small Caribbean islands in the CONCACAF qualification rounds, but they're still a grownup team whose players play in the top European sides. Except Jay Demerit, who plays for Watford, but even he's thinking of higher things, we hear. Although to be honest, if I was an American called Demerit, I'd insist it was pronounced Demerit, not Demerit.
Their manager Bob Bradley is top notch as well, and he's always prepared to make the hard calls. After half an hour he took off Clark and brought on Edu. There was a touching moment when he took time out to give Clark a hug, and whisper consoling words in his ear. It didn't seem to do much for Clark, but as managers always say in these situations, who wants a player that's happy to be taken off?
Their best players, as so often in the past, were Dempsey and Donovan. Dempsey found Findley alone in the box, and Kingson had to make the save. Jim Beglin reminded us that Dempsey's pass came off the same left foot that he used to score against Robert Green, and to be fair we've no grounds for claiming it was a different one. Although that particular shot was a powder puff effort that the keeper was unlucky with, as they are sometimes, and hardly something to boast about.
There was a similar chance at the other end, as Asamoah Not Gyan pounced on a moment of indecision from Demerit and had his shot well saved, and then it was half time. The camera lingered on the strange sight of Bill Clinton and Mick Jagger watching the game together, surely the most powerful dirty old men at the tournament. Somewhere in the world Jerry Hall and Monica Lewinsky were realising how much they had in common. You can't always get what you want, said the commentator about the state of the game, but I couldn't help thinking about Clinton's sticky fingers. He seemed to know a lot about the game, Clinton, or maybe he's just a cocksure little twat. Perhaps next time they could mike him up, then we'd know.
Bradley repeated his trick of using Feilhaber as a second half supersub, and he was unlucky to have his shot saved at point-blank range, after Ghana had failed to cut out a cross and Altidore had flicked it on to him. it was the Dempsey Donovan partnership that got them back on level terms, though.
Dempsey burst through some rather lazy Ghanaian defending, and into the box. Jonathan Mensah brought him down, and Donovan took the penalty. It went in off the post, Donovan breathed a sigh of relief and the momentum shifted to the US.
For a while it was mainly Kingson in goal that kept Ghana in it. First he went in feet first and got the ball just ahead of Altidore, carried it through the challenge and cleared on the other side of him. Then he saved from Bradley at close range. He got lucky though when Altidore rode a Mensah challenge in the box, tumbled and from a prone position shot just wide.
Extra time, and Ghana sorted it early. Three minutes in, Gyan scored a goal really very much like Boateng's at the start of the game, just running in and shooting, although this time it went over Howard rather than in at the near post. It took the heart out of the Yanks, whose most meaningful chance for the rest of the game was a hook shot from Demerit in the last minute, that the keeper watched sail a foot over the bar.
So relief for the local fans, and the quarter finals will have one side from Africa. More accurately, sub-Saharan Africa, as the fate of Algeria seems to have met with widespread indifference. I wonder why.
But a relief, anyway. Tomorrow, England.
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