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Extraordinary game Grav
All the besht, shuurely not even ur Dutcsh boysh can blow zhe shemi-final now Have to admit to having a punt on the brassieres but always had a nagging doubt. Really Brazil are not a good team. When you pick 3 full backs, 4 centre backs & your 1 world class forward is off form you have to think that once the team goes 1 down then there's trouble ahead Mr Kevin Keegan got it right (for once) did he not? 'Brazil have plenty of players who like to sail on calm waters' Quite What topped it off for me was the Hyundai advert-style trailer (Getting back to the advert theme here) Apparently in this little series, we're at the semi final stage The geniuses in ad-land did come up with Brazil v Italy We're still in Pele/Tostao territory here as the skillful/latin Brazilians overcome the cynical/latin Italians So far so 1970 (Does it not get on anyone else's goat that Braseeuw, who have practised defensive negative counter attacking football since at least the passing of Zico still get held up as the keepers of the beautiful game, or O jogo bonito as the tiresome mr pele refers?) Anyway as we left pictures of the rejoicing Sneijder, Kuyt et al we had this giant tuurd from the agents employed by Hyundai. Crying out loud ITV, it was SOOOOO WRONG, like virtually everything else corporations have done in this world cup Sure enough during the actual FInal (Neth v Arg no doubt) we will get the motor-vehicular-Clarkson-Top-Gear version Long odds on England beat Brazil, a fixture without relevance since the Beatles were together And that will also be wrong, And no one with half a brain will care |
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Ghana v Uruguay
After a match as dramatic as this afternoon's, almost anything was going to be an anti-climax. Almost anything, I said. ITV did their best - although, inevitably, their best included the hugely patronising spectacle of sending one of their reporters to Accra to sample some of the local 'colour.' How decidedly colonialist, old chaps. 'One of the first rules of sports broadcasting is not to show any favouritism,' noted Clive Tyldesley. Hang on, Tyldsely has always shown favouritism. Usually to Manchester United. Even when they're not playing. Anyway, he continued by doing exactly that, drawing a tenuous link to various Britons with some vague Ghanaian heritage (Dizzee Rah-scal, apparently). 'It's nice to have one English-speaking country left in the tournament.' Oh well, that's eighty percent of the world's population gone in a sentence. You crass Little Englander, you. After Chiles' thoroughly rotten tongue-rimming earlier where he'd, basically, told anybody intending on supporting Uruguay ('cast in the role of pantomime villain' said Tyldesley) that they were traitors, despite my own hope that Ghana would win, I was on the point of switching alliegence. But then ... it's Uruguay. Yeah. Even their mothers find them hard to love! Tyldesley finished his hatefully one-sided opening piece by concluding that the vuvuzelas were likely to be going some in the stadium. 'If you're not a fan, this might be a night for turning the sound down.' The first thing he's said that actually makes sense in about a decade. Uruguay were the better team for most of the oepning twenty minutes or so but an enforced change (Scotti for Lugano) combined with Boeteng having an absolute blinder playing in the hole behind Gyan led to a whole series of excellent chances for Ghana. They passed the ball beautiful and were quick and smart and first to every fifty fifty ball. Just as most of us were thinking, 'it's worrying they haven't scored yet as they're so much on top' they promptly did score. And it was an effing blinder. Sulley Muntari picked the ball up in the Uruguay half and, with no-one anywhere near him, he took a touch, then another, moved into space and from about thirty five yards he hits a sweet left-foot shot that curled away from a badly-positioned Fernando Muslera and flew into the corner. Africa - and the ITV studio - went absolutely mental. The second-half was, if anything, even better. Ghana started in the ascendacy but a stunning free-kick by Diego Forlan levelled things up after ten minutes. After that, if was 'you have an attack, we'll have an attack' as the game swung from end to end in a very attractive and exciting way. There were no more goals, though and so we got thirty more minutes. And for once, that wasn't a chore! It took Jim beglin until five minutes from the end of extra time before he found an excuse for a 'beam me up, Scotti' joke. Again, the game swung backwards and forward, first Uruguay having the upper hand, then the Africans coming back strongly. Penalties looked certain when with, literally, the last kick of the game a scramble in the box ended with Suarez handling on the line. Red card. Penalty. Up stepped Gyan ... and hit the bar. I repeat, penalties looked certain. Crikey, talk about drama: Forlan was faultless. Gyan made no mistake second time around. Great penatly - top corner. Victorino, likewise, was clinical. Appiah, off a short run, also put it in the corner. Scotti drilled in low and Kingson managed to dive over it. Mensah the Mackem, off a one-paced run, hit it straight at Muslera. Wretched. Maxi Pereira's arse fell out and he skied it over the bar. Worse than wretched! Adiya's effort was saved too. Do either of you guys want to win this thing? Abreu walked up to take his kick like a man of his way to the gallows. He was cheeky, he chipped it. And Uruguay were in the semi-finals. The crowd went silent. Goals: 128 Red Cards: 15 |
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Ze Chermans v Ze Hargies
Apparently, Paul the Psychic Octopus had predicted a German win. Again. And, as Steve Wilson noted, anybody who'd been following his predictions so far would be 'squid's-in.' Oh yes, ladies and gentlemen, you don't get this on ITV with their sour-faced anti-Uruguay agenda! Yesterday, kind of, restored my faith in football to, not only thrill but, also, surprise. Today couldn't possibly live up to that, could it? Three minutes it took to answer that question. In a tournament of rubbish goalkeeping, we got another one to add to the list. Schweinsteiger knocked over a wickedly inswinging free-kick from the left and after Thomas Mueller glanced it towards goal, Sergio Romero found himself in no-man's land and the ball hit his right leg before flying into the net. Gott in himmel! Zat, I didn't expect. So people my wonder how an Englishman could get so enthused about germany, of all team but, hey, I've never had much of a problem with the Germans. They're a good team, it's a nice country and they make nice cars! How much longer can a country be punished for a homicidal actions of a deranged and psychotic madman. I mean, Toni Schumacher's been retired for twenty five years now, surely we can move on? At half time Alan Hansen was drawing so many arrows on the screen I thought it was going to turn into the title sequence of Dad's Army. The general consensus of the panel was the Argetnina's big players - Messi, Tevez et al - weren't performing. The second half progressed with Messi seemingly trying to win the game on his own by well shackled for the most part by the very impressive Boeteng. But the more the Argentines came forward, the more dangerous they looked. 'You get the feeling Argentina are one pass away,' said Steve Wilson, somewhat obviously. There was a peroid of about ten minutes where but for some last-ditch tackling, Argentina could have equalised three or four times. So, what do you think happened, then? Why, the Germans went up the other end and scored, of course. They're really very good at doing that! Tripped and, from a position on the floor just outside the box, Sami Khedira somehow found a sliderule pass to Lukas Podolski on the left and his perfect ball along the six-yard line was tapped in by a gleeful Miroslav Klose, his thirteenth goal in World Cup finals. Unlucky for some. Well, for Argentina, anyway. Tevez had a go at the other end. 'Look at Tevez,' said Wilson. 'He's like a one man battleship!' Oh, the comedy potential. 'The Bismarck'? The 'General Belgrano'? I mean, there's serving jokes up a plate and then there's really serving jokes up on a plate! Fifteen minutes out, the Germans got a third. Similar in construction to the second, Schweinsteiger ran through about four tackles in the box before setting up Friedrich. There was a moment when Tevez got the ball on the edge of the box, dipped his shoulder, cut inside and then spanked one about twenty rows back into the crowd. It was that sort of day for the men from the River Plate. we got shots of Diego on the touchline looking for all the world like a man who'd just shat in his best suit. The socwl was a mixture of contempt, sadness and suppressed violence. Somebody, you sensed, was gonna get their heads kicked in tonite. Surprisingly, perhaps, the Argies didn't revert to type and start kicking people. Well, not much, anyway. It appeared as though they, as much as the rest of the world, had shocked by how easily they had been swept aside by an atheltic, skillful young German side. One that's still nowhere near the finished article, at times they looked very shaky sat the back. But one that score goals for fun. Right at the death, the Germans did it again - 'counter-attacking football at it's very best,' noted Mark Lawrenson, wisely. There were shots on Angela Merkel in the crowds with the kind of look on her face that German chancellors normally give just before they invade the Sudatenland. Couldn't blame her, mind. Her boys had done her, and their Fatherland proud. They'd outclassed a class outfit. You don't see that very often in world football. Goals: 132 Red Cards: 15 |
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Bl00dy hell G P, do your fingers ache ?
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Bl00dy hell cant speak for you lot but my fingers are starting to ache!
Spain v Paraguay Surely we couldn't get four genuinely briliant quarter finals in a row? I mean, has that ever happened? Even in 1970, Uruguay ground out a dreadful 1-0 win against the USSR. The BBC warmed up with a collection of Spain's Greatest Misses and, a repetition of the statistic that they really seem to love that Jose Luis Chilavert scored more international goals than Emile Heskey. And Chilavert was a goalkeeper. Gary, Alan and Alan were putting in a long stint, having all done the earlier match but they brought on Lee Dxion for Seedorf and he seemed to be the only one that had actually done a bit of research of the Paraguyans. The general gist of which was 'they're boring but they don't concede many!' Oh joy. 'Paraguay have never played in a World Cup quarter final, Spain have never won one,' Gary told us. So, something had to give! The first half was ... well, I was going to say disappointing but really, it was only disappionting in comparison with the previous three. It was actually quite a decent enough - and certainly interesting - game. And Paraguay were, by a not inconsiderable distance - the better side. The strangled the Spanish attacking force, giving Villa and Torrres hardly a kick. And the latter, when he did get a kick, usually managed to put it into Row Q. (he never hit it hard enough to get it to Row Z). The Paraguayans pressed high up the pitch and, in Nelson Valdez, they had the game's best player. He even had the ball in the net, but it was chalked out for a marginal offside. The game exploded to life in the fifty fifth minute in what rapired became a tale of two penalties. Or possibly three. First Pique blatantly dragged down Oscar Cardozo from a corner. He was booked. Cardozo himself took the resultant spot-kick for Paraguay but hit it weakly to Iker Casillas' left. The keeper made an easy save. Almost straight from the restart, up the other end David Villa got into the Paraguay box and went down under a challenge from Antolin Alcaraz. It looked a bit soft to be honest, but the ref pointed to the spot again whilst the Spaniards all waved about imaginary red cards at him. Senor Bartes, seemingly, prefers yellow. Xabi Alonso stepped up and scored but to much flapping a hands, the referee disallowed it for encroachment. Alonso changed his mind for the retake - fatal. H went the other way and Villar, brilliantly, saved it. (There should, actually have been a *fourth* penalty immediatetly afterwards as the keeper, in scrambling to dive on the blocked spot-kick sent Cesc Fabregas absolutely flying.) Villar then topped even that with a spectacular looking save from an Iniesta shot. Madness. And then finally, just as it seemed no one wanted to score, Spain did. It was a comedy goal of extreme proportions too. A quick break, Iniesta set up Pedro and, after his shot crashed back off the post, it came back to David Villa who - via both posts - eventually found the net. Ay carumba. There was still time for Roque Santa Cruz to waste a glorious opportunity to equalise. And for Villa to almost double the lead as the game became stretched in the final moments. At last, we'd got a - bit of a - classic to go with the other three. Better late than never. Sergio Ramos got kicked in the face and, for a time it looked as though the Spanish were going to call for an undertaker it took him so long to get up. The Spanish had done in despite playing dreadfully. If they do that against the Germans, they won't be so lucky. Goals: 133 Red Cards: 15 |
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Nice one G P. It was an amazing game [;)]
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The Netherlands v Uruguay
The first disappointment of the night was when Kevin Keegan boldly tipped the Dutch to win this one. Oh, no! Lovely bloke, is Kev, but he can't tip sugar. The BBC, meanwhile, despite not actually having the game, reminded us of some previous wonderful Dutch moments. http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/world_cup_2010/8792469.stm Anyway, here were are in the semi-finals after two days of mind-numbing tedium, at last, we have football again. The first big surprise was that Tyldesley was doing the commentary on his own as Jim Beglin was sick in bed. The opening twenty minutes were terrific, with a real ebb and flow to the game that climaxed in possibly the best goal of the tournament, Giovanni van Bronckhorst crashing one in from thirty five yards. That should have been the start of the party but, for whatever reason, the Dutch too their foot off the gas, the game got fractured and became niggly and with a sklightly spiteful undertone. The five minutes before half-time, Diego Forlan collected the ball thirty yards from the Netherlands goal, turned into space in a central position and let fly with a left-foot shot that seems to swerve in the air and bamboozle Maarten Stekelenburg, who could only help the ball one-handed high into his own net. That was unexpected. The second half was tense, nervous, edgy. And, again, a bit nasty in places. Late tackles, sly off the ball incidents. The Dutch looked a shamles, yet again on the verge of a major prize and blowing it big-style. Then, they started to get their ¤¤¤¤ together. There were a couple of close calls and finally another decent move led to a shooting chance for Wesley Sneijder and after it took a deflection off Maxi Pereira, Robin van Persie managed NOT to touch it as it flew past Fernando Muslera into the bottom left-hand corner. Was Van Persie offside when the ball was hit? It was tight. Even if he was, was he 'active'? A question worth asking. It didn't matter. It was 2-1 and the Dutch scented blood. Three minutes later, Now the Dutch were in the World Cup final, and there was no controversy about this one. Dirk Kuyt cut back onto his right foot and crossed into the box - slightly behind Arjen Robben, who produceed a fabulous header, directing it into the bottom right-hand corner, in off the post. Stunner. It made you wonder just how good this Dutch age going to be when they actually start playing! It's a crazy topsy turvy world, ladies and gentlemen. The Dutch are playing like the Germans and the Germans are playing like the Dutch. The last few minutes were enlivened by some outrageous van Bommel theatrics (who, eventually, did get booked!) and, deep into injury time, a second Uruguay goal from Maxi Pereira. An easy victory became a nervy, awkward victory. But a victory none the less. Goals: 138 Red Cards: 15 |
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Ze Chermans v El Spaniardos
'It's the World Cup underachievers against the World Cup overachievers. If you don't know which is which you might, just, be watching the wrong channel,' noted Gary Lineker. The first **** in the armour of Joachim Löw's boys might have been the revelation that Paul the Psychic Octopus was tipping that Spaniards for this one. The last time the two sides met, the Spaniards won and the Germans complained of 'death of one thousand passes.' Lineker made the interesting observation that it would get harder and hadrer for the Germans to keep on producing on the big occasion the longer the tournament went on. Shearer agreed. Hansen looked dubious. Lawro, interviewed in the ground, went for the Spanish too. Del Basque pulled the first big surprise - not so much dropping Torres, that's been coming for a couple of games at least, but rather in replacing him with Pedro rather than Fabregas. The first half was a game of chess between two grand masters. Cagey yet with moments of furious pace and attack-counter attack. Spain were the better side early on but, you occasionally felt, always wanted that one pass too many. Sometimes, those eight passes to many. Germany came back and were probably the stronger side in the second half of the first half. But, from both sides you felt it was the final ball every time - from both teams - that was letting them down. The approach play and the passing in beautiful, but the one thing acking was that killer, defence-splitting ball. In the closing seconds of the half, the Germans had a stonewall penalty turned down - Sergio Ramos clipping Ozil's heals. The second period was equally fascinating and equally frustrating in the places. The Spanish seem,ed reticent to really go for it and, when they did, they missed a couple of glorious changes. The Germans, missing Mueller, didn't seem able to carve out any decent changes. Finally, the deadlock was broken when good old mad-haired Puyol powered in a bullet header from his curly bonce from a set-piece. After that, the Germans laid seige to the Spanish goal and, for the first time in the tournament it was they were were being caught on the counter-attack rather than the other way around. Ha! Now you know how WE feel! The Spanish, to much scratching of heads, took Villa off and brought Torres on. Time ran out. Joachim Löw had a face like a smacked arse. The Spanish went bananas. Or, should that hbe oranges? The man from delmonte, he say 'yes.' We will have a new name on the World Cup on Sunday. Which will be good for football. Particulary as, I confidently predict, I have already seen the winners of the 2014 tournament. They're called Germany. Goals: 139 Red Cards: 15 |
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Germany v Uruguay
So, this is the last time ITV and I shall meet in this World Cup. Thank Christ. If there were awards for a major broadcasting getting it wrong in so many ways, on so many levels, they'd have won this one hands down. Their opening was what you'd expect, frankly, another debate on the manifest unfairness of That Bastard Handball (get over it, guys, nobody else much outside of Ghana is bothered in the slightest, it's yesterday's news), the crass patronising of a couple of excited Spanish commentators and a 'no, honest, the Third Place Play Off isn't a complete waste of bloody time' assurance. Oh, and yet more of Andy YOU KNOW NOTHING Townsend. In relation to the Third Place Play-Off, it IS a really tough sell. I mean, who cares who's the third best team in the world and who's the fourth?! I'm sure if you asked either, they'd much sooner be playing tomorrow in the final. Or, failing that, being back home enjoying a day at the beach. Peter Drury drew the short straw, commentating on what he described himself as 'the World Cup's game of "might-have-beens."' I'm currently trying to work out if there's a more pointless thing in the world and, assuming that there isn't, what does it say about me that I'm spending a Saturday night in my gaff watching it?! Of course, as so often happens in matches like this, it was a ¤¤¤¤ing blinder! Played in what was little short of a monsoon, the first half started with a shockingly bad over-the-top tackle by Aogo on Diego Perez then got better, quickly. Four years ago, Bastian Schweinsteiger scored a couple of belters in the equivalent game and he nearly did it again there - after his well-struck thirty-yard drive was blocked and spilled by Fernando Muslera, that man Thomas Mueller got in quick as a flash to coolly tap in from eight yards. Then, arguably Schweinsteiger's first mistake of the tournament cost an equaliser. He was dispossessed by a fine Perez tackle on halfway and suddenly Uruguay broke with pace as Luis Suarez fed Edinson Cavani on the inside left channel and he slipped the ball nonchalantly past the amusingly named Hans-Joerg Butt with his right foot. At half time, bloody Chiles and flaming Townsend were still going on about Ghana's injustice and Suarez's hand-of-cod. For Christ's sake give it a rest. Second half. They really are a lovely team to watch at times, Uruguay. Egidio Arevalo played an immaculate - if unconventional - one-two down the right with Suarez and his cross to the edge of the box is acrobatically volleyed into the ground and into the Germany net by Diego Forlan. That wasn't in the script. Back came Ze Chermans, equally pleasing on the eye. I'm not sure Fernando Muslera's mind was properly on the game. He came for yet another cross, this time flung in from the right by new Manchester City signing Jerome Boateng, got nowhere near it - for about the third or fourth time - and was helpless as Marcell Jansen headed into an empty net. As noted, a blinder. A pointless blinder, admittedly, but a blinder none the less. Ten minutes from time a corner from the German right was headed into the six-yard box and after Lugano couldn't adjust his feet quickly enough to clear, the ball popped up to Sami Khedira who looped a header into the corner of the net. In the last minute, Suarez threw himself over and got a free-kick on the edge of the German box. Forlan hit the crossbar with the last kick of the game which would have earned him the golden boot, instead of just a share in it. And that was it, Germany got some meaningless medals, Uruguay didn't. Ultimately pointless. But bloody entertaining! Goals: 144 Red Cards: 15 |
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The Netherlands v Spain
Ontspanje. That's a Dutch word meaning, essentisally, 'relax.' But also, more literally, it means 'De-Spain.' And, with that lingustic example of rank cleverness, welcome to the end of the world. Gary Lineker, in the thoroughly tasteful suit and tie, kicked off the BBC coverage with little montage of the tournament's memorable moments with an Alabama 3 soundtrack. Tasty. Lee Dixon then claimed that when he met Nelson Mandela and shook his hand, 'shivers went down my spine.' I'd get that checked out if I were, mate, it might be polio. The two Alans and Dicko were also, like Gary, besuited. And looked very nice. Clarence Seedorf, meanwhile, was wearing a bright orange replica kit and making no bones about whom he was supporting. I couldn't tell you what the shower on ITV were up to. I'd made my choice! In fact, they'd made it for me. Early highlights of the coverage included a brief bit of the opening ceremony with Nelson looking a bit bewildered smiling in all the right places. And then, one of the great meeting-of-mind moments of the World Cup, Garth Crooks interviewing Howard Webb. The beeb picked out an England flag in the crowd with 'can't Play, can't Ref' on it. Then, Shearer - never Howard webb's biggest fan - said 'Team spirit and organisation has taken the Dutch to this final. Take Wesley Sneijder out of their team and they don't have any other really great players.' I think Arjen Robben might have something to say about that, pal! Then, Garth did a supern interview with Rudi Krol who seemed terrifically confident. Jonathan Pearce produced a rather thoughtful little piece of changing Dutch attitudes to winning with, or without, style. But still the panel seemed to sniff at any vague suggestion that anyone other than Spain was going to walk this. 'I'm trying to build a case for the Netherlands to win the game and it's very difficult,' said Dixon. 'Spain are in such good form and their ability on the ball is unmatched. The Dutch do have match-winners in Arjen Robben, Wesley Sneijder and Robin van Persie, though - they'll need all three to turn it on for them to have a chance tonight.' And so to the match. The BBC had gone for Guy Mowbray as their commentator, a bit of a surprise, perhaps, as Pearce had been widely expected to get it. he gave a poetic little flourish to begin with about destiny that brought something of a disgruntled 'humpf' from Mark Lawrenson beside him. What fllowed was a desperately disappointing first half. Spain were pretty on the ball - and had loads of it - but had no final pass and no penetration. The Dutch, on the other hand, just never got going at all. In the first fifteen minutes, they were all over the place but, then they seemed to buck their ideas up and go for Plan B. Kick the Spanish up aheight. As for goals, they seemed to be waiting for Robben to have a moment of inspiration. The game was niggly and littered with fouls. Howard Webb produced five yellow cards including two - for Van Bommel and De Jong - which might easily have been another colour. The latter's throat-high kung-fu-kick on Xabi Alonso had Lawrson producing the finest moment of the first half. 'I hope none of you are having your tea at home!' Guy Mowbray summed up the half thus: 'The game has lost its edge, lost its pace. The Netherlands have stopped Spain from dominating but they haven't taken control themselves. For me, the match is at a very iffy stage.' Two hopelessly missed chances just before the break at either end - from Mathijsen and Pedro summed the half up even better. Horrorshow. Half-time was a succession of rants from Hansen ('total football? Total thuggery!') calmed down somewhat by a little bit more sensible comments from Shearer and Dixon. The Dutch, they noted, had realised that they couldn't, possibly, play Spain at the their own game so they'd gone for Plan C. Stop them playing. And it was working. 'If this had been a group game, the Netherlands would probably already be down to nine men - at least,' noted Shearer. The second half was better although only marginally - not that you'd believe it if you listened to miserable old Hansen at the climax. There were lots more yellow cards, Spain tried to pass the sodding ball to death and the Dutch had a great chance when Robben got through one-on-one with Casillas but the Dutchie's arse fell out. David Villa had an even better chance but his shot from six yards was charged down by Heitinga. Into injury time, with other options available, Sneijder - who'd had a total nightmare of game - tried ambitious shot from the half way line. And almost - almost but not quite - hit the corner flag. Desperate. But, nowhere near the worst Wolrd cup final ever. Extra time: Suddenly, we had an open, end-to-end classic on our hands. Chances at both ends, last ditch tackles, outrageous dives. And that was just in the first five minutes! 'The first signs here that this is starting to open up' noted Guy Mowbray. Fabregas had a great opportunity at one end, Robben at the other. Still no goals. Lawrenson said he though this was the best period of the whole game. Iniesta missed. Time ticked onwards. Inevtiably, with the number of cards that had been issued, you knew it wasn't going to end eleven-a-side and. sure enough, five minutes inot the second half of extra time, Johnny Heitinga pulled back Iniesta on the edge of the box and took the long walk. Replays suggested the Spaniard had made a bit of a meal of it. Then in the space of a couple of minutes, everything went wrong for the Dutch. A corner they should have had wasn't given, a foul against Elia wasn't given and, up at the other end, the ball broke to Iniesta, who scored. Chaos ensued. Spain won. Goals: 144 Red Cards: 16 |