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10 Jun 10
14:46
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Date Joined:
22 Sep 02
One day to go and its time for the biannual Diary thread. A month ahead of us with the worlds greatest show so lets kick it off with the group preview:
Group A:
There's something very wrong with the French this year. They're not all pensioners. That's worrying.
South Africa, I don't know much about - from the look of their squad they seem to be the weakest of the Africans but home advantage does tend to count for something (even Japan made it through the group stages in 2002). Mexico, usually a decent bet for the second round. Uruguay ... depends which one turns up, really, doesn't it? If the negative, petulant, nasty Uruguay then it's to be hoped they're on the first plane home. If it's the 'when we feel like it we can actually play' Uruguay then you want to see more.
I dunno, this is a tough group to call. I've a feeling France will do enough, then it's perm any one for the other three. Purely from a spectacle point of view, South Africa getting through to the last sixteen would be nice.
Right, Group B.
With Argentina, you can guarantee that at least once during the first three matches they'll turn it on, big-style (like they did against a very poor Serbia and Hugo Montenegro four years ago). And, when that happens, various media pundits will be lining up to get down on their hands and knees and lick the scum from the Argies collective crack and announce that we have just seen the 2010 World Cup winners and we might as well not even bother playing the rest of the tournament. Like Mark Lawrenson did four years ago. And then, they'll get beat off the Germans in the quarter finals. Like four years ago. And then, they'll lose their rag completely and start kung-fuing hapless bystanders. Like four years ago. It is written.
I like the Argentines, I really do - they've got some awesome players - but, the thing I like most about them is how they carry on when they get beat.
Of the rest ... Nigeria, bit of rebuilding process going on there, by all accounts, although they have got Mikel, and Yakubu, and Adeleye so they're no pushovers. Mind you, they've also got Danny Shi ttu as well.
It looks to be the worst South Korean team in at least four World Cups with - Park Ji-Sing aside - hardly any European experience. Mind you, any team with somebody called Lee Dong**** in their squad is worthy of a few minutes of anyone's time.
Greece just look ... ordinary. Just like they did in USA 94 when they got beat in every match. And, just like they did in Euro 2004 when they only went and won the damn thing! Your guess is as good as mine.
I'm going for Argentina and ... Nigeria. Just. But this group's even harder to call than the first one.
Group C
England, USA, Algeria, Slovenia.
Well ... England should win this one without too much difficulty. Which almost certainly means they'll do a 1986, lose to the USA, draw with the North Africans and go into the final match with some central Europeans knowing it's ¤¤¤¤-of-bust. And, then, lose to somebody on penalties (probably the Germans) in the quarter final. When people elsewhere talk about England's predictability, I kind of know what they mean.
America look to have a decent team, albeit, probably not as strong as they had in 2002 or 2006 (loads of experience, though). Algeria are Top 30 FIFA ranked as well so they're clearly no pushover. And Slovenia ... they've got some good players too (a lot of them play in Italy) and they qualified the hard-way. Ultimately, though, if England have any pretensions of actually winning this thing then they really shouldn't struggle to get out of this group. In the end, I've a feeling it's going to come down to what happens with Rooney. If he plays, England play. if he doesn't ... you lot have problems
Group D
If they had Essien I'd say Ghana had the best chance of any of the African nations progressing, but he's going to be huge loss. Germany will qualify. because ... they're Germany. After that, it's a real toss-up between the other three. I've a sneaky feeling the Aussies won't be quite as strong as last time. Serbia (along with their mate Hugo Montenegro) were a bloody disgrace last time - that 6-0 hammering by Argentina said far more about them than it did about the other lot's brilliance. Ghana ... mmm ... I really don't know with this one. Could go any way.
Group E
It depends - as always - on which Netherlands turns up! I mean, let's be brutally honest here, they're utter gits, the Dutch. Every tournament since 1974 they tease us and get our hopes up. And then, always, they let us - and often themselves - down. All right, except Euro 88, I'll give them that one. As recently at 2008, they were magnificent for two games and we all sat here purring thinking 'this is it, they've finally got their ¤¤¤¤ together,' and then they go and lose to Russia. So, I'm expecting what I usually expect from the Dutch - equal measures of brilliance and self-destruction. A stroppy walkout on the eve of the tournament wouldn't be unprecedented either.
As for the rest. Denmark - workmanlike, solid, reliable. Will probably be there or thereabouts. Cameroon - unpredictable, make-it-up-as-they-go-along, jazz. It's be lovely to see the Indomitable Lions roar again, but I can't see it somehow. Japan - rebuilding. It'd be a surprise if they made the next round.
Group F
The Azzurri will, of course, walk this one without even getting into second gear - which they don't do before the quarter finals. Or, they won't - which will be funny, as all Italian World Cup or international tournament calamities ('66, '74, or Euro '96) always are. Nice shirts, though, it has to be said. Slovakia or Paraguay for the second spot? Hmm ... could go either way on this one. Paraguay's chances largely depend on which Roque Santa Cruz turns up. New Zealand, of course, are going home on a big white aeroplane, but it's nice to see them back at the big table for the first time since 1982. (Isn't it just beyond ironic that the first time Australia don't play in the Oceania qualifying group, Oceania managed to get themselves a qualifier?!)
Group G
All lined-up for the Group of Death so, watch, now it'll be the Group of Sleep instead. Brazil and Portugal should qualify. If Drogba plays (and is fit) then the Ivory Coast's game against Portugal is the first round's one potential for giant killing (although, given the quality in the Cote D'Ivoire side and Portugal's notoriously schizophrenic performances in World Cup first rounds of late, it wouldn't be that great a surprise). But ... I can't see it. I would love it, if they did. We really need an African nation to start fulfilling the potential of the continent, and Cote D'Ivoire are the most naturally gifted side of all the African qualifiers. But, as last time, the draw's been unkind to them and Drogba's injury could be the biggest blow of all.
North Korea? What is this, 1966? Back to Pyongyang with you and please don't point your nuclear weapons in the directions of Lisbon, Rio and Yamoussoukro, thanks all the same.
And so, by logical process of elimination we come to Group H:
Spain? This time? Really? They've got the players. But they've had the players before. Many, many times. They've, supposedly, got the right attitude now. But, that's another one we've heard before. They've won the European Championships, so that'll have given then the confidence to do it at world level. Meh, they did that, before, in the 60s, and it didn't work then. Dunno. Really, genuinely don't know. They were a sight to see at Euro 2008. If they turn it on in this tournament it could be a case of sitting back and watching greatness. But, it's Spain. And, with that, comes uncertainly.
Switzerland will presumably do what they did last time, play Alex Frei in front of their back nine and play for penalties. Which they're, seemingly, crap at! if there's any natural justice, they'll go out, meekly, without scoring a goal in the first round as punishment for their part in the Ukraine non-event four years ago. More likely, they'll go out in the second round, on penalties, after four life-sucking 0-0 draws.
Honduras. Rank outsiders - were plucky and impressive the one time they've qualified before (long, long time ago, though). It's easy to get all patronising and say things like 'for them, the world cup is just being there' and they're certainly a better bet for the second round than, say, New Zealand or North Korea. But, they're likely on the first plane home.
Chile have some terrific players - Humberto Suazo in particular. If they can get one past Switzerland, they could make the second round.
Today, it's the Anticipation. Tomorrow, it's the real thing.
Group A:
There's something very wrong with the French this year. They're not all pensioners. That's worrying.
South Africa, I don't know much about - from the look of their squad they seem to be the weakest of the Africans but home advantage does tend to count for something (even Japan made it through the group stages in 2002). Mexico, usually a decent bet for the second round. Uruguay ... depends which one turns up, really, doesn't it? If the negative, petulant, nasty Uruguay then it's to be hoped they're on the first plane home. If it's the 'when we feel like it we can actually play' Uruguay then you want to see more.
I dunno, this is a tough group to call. I've a feeling France will do enough, then it's perm any one for the other three. Purely from a spectacle point of view, South Africa getting through to the last sixteen would be nice.
Right, Group B.
With Argentina, you can guarantee that at least once during the first three matches they'll turn it on, big-style (like they did against a very poor Serbia and Hugo Montenegro four years ago). And, when that happens, various media pundits will be lining up to get down on their hands and knees and lick the scum from the Argies collective crack and announce that we have just seen the 2010 World Cup winners and we might as well not even bother playing the rest of the tournament. Like Mark Lawrenson did four years ago. And then, they'll get beat off the Germans in the quarter finals. Like four years ago. And then, they'll lose their rag completely and start kung-fuing hapless bystanders. Like four years ago. It is written.
I like the Argentines, I really do - they've got some awesome players - but, the thing I like most about them is how they carry on when they get beat.
Of the rest ... Nigeria, bit of rebuilding process going on there, by all accounts, although they have got Mikel, and Yakubu, and Adeleye so they're no pushovers. Mind you, they've also got Danny Shi ttu as well.
It looks to be the worst South Korean team in at least four World Cups with - Park Ji-Sing aside - hardly any European experience. Mind you, any team with somebody called Lee Dong**** in their squad is worthy of a few minutes of anyone's time.
Greece just look ... ordinary. Just like they did in USA 94 when they got beat in every match. And, just like they did in Euro 2004 when they only went and won the damn thing! Your guess is as good as mine.
I'm going for Argentina and ... Nigeria. Just. But this group's even harder to call than the first one.
Group C
England, USA, Algeria, Slovenia.
Well ... England should win this one without too much difficulty. Which almost certainly means they'll do a 1986, lose to the USA, draw with the North Africans and go into the final match with some central Europeans knowing it's ¤¤¤¤-of-bust. And, then, lose to somebody on penalties (probably the Germans) in the quarter final. When people elsewhere talk about England's predictability, I kind of know what they mean.
America look to have a decent team, albeit, probably not as strong as they had in 2002 or 2006 (loads of experience, though). Algeria are Top 30 FIFA ranked as well so they're clearly no pushover. And Slovenia ... they've got some good players too (a lot of them play in Italy) and they qualified the hard-way. Ultimately, though, if England have any pretensions of actually winning this thing then they really shouldn't struggle to get out of this group. In the end, I've a feeling it's going to come down to what happens with Rooney. If he plays, England play. if he doesn't ... you lot have problems
Group D
If they had Essien I'd say Ghana had the best chance of any of the African nations progressing, but he's going to be huge loss. Germany will qualify. because ... they're Germany. After that, it's a real toss-up between the other three. I've a sneaky feeling the Aussies won't be quite as strong as last time. Serbia (along with their mate Hugo Montenegro) were a bloody disgrace last time - that 6-0 hammering by Argentina said far more about them than it did about the other lot's brilliance. Ghana ... mmm ... I really don't know with this one. Could go any way.
Group E
It depends - as always - on which Netherlands turns up! I mean, let's be brutally honest here, they're utter gits, the Dutch. Every tournament since 1974 they tease us and get our hopes up. And then, always, they let us - and often themselves - down. All right, except Euro 88, I'll give them that one. As recently at 2008, they were magnificent for two games and we all sat here purring thinking 'this is it, they've finally got their ¤¤¤¤ together,' and then they go and lose to Russia. So, I'm expecting what I usually expect from the Dutch - equal measures of brilliance and self-destruction. A stroppy walkout on the eve of the tournament wouldn't be unprecedented either.
As for the rest. Denmark - workmanlike, solid, reliable. Will probably be there or thereabouts. Cameroon - unpredictable, make-it-up-as-they-go-along, jazz. It's be lovely to see the Indomitable Lions roar again, but I can't see it somehow. Japan - rebuilding. It'd be a surprise if they made the next round.
Group F
The Azzurri will, of course, walk this one without even getting into second gear - which they don't do before the quarter finals. Or, they won't - which will be funny, as all Italian World Cup or international tournament calamities ('66, '74, or Euro '96) always are. Nice shirts, though, it has to be said. Slovakia or Paraguay for the second spot? Hmm ... could go either way on this one. Paraguay's chances largely depend on which Roque Santa Cruz turns up. New Zealand, of course, are going home on a big white aeroplane, but it's nice to see them back at the big table for the first time since 1982. (Isn't it just beyond ironic that the first time Australia don't play in the Oceania qualifying group, Oceania managed to get themselves a qualifier?!)
Group G
All lined-up for the Group of Death so, watch, now it'll be the Group of Sleep instead. Brazil and Portugal should qualify. If Drogba plays (and is fit) then the Ivory Coast's game against Portugal is the first round's one potential for giant killing (although, given the quality in the Cote D'Ivoire side and Portugal's notoriously schizophrenic performances in World Cup first rounds of late, it wouldn't be that great a surprise). But ... I can't see it. I would love it, if they did. We really need an African nation to start fulfilling the potential of the continent, and Cote D'Ivoire are the most naturally gifted side of all the African qualifiers. But, as last time, the draw's been unkind to them and Drogba's injury could be the biggest blow of all.
North Korea? What is this, 1966? Back to Pyongyang with you and please don't point your nuclear weapons in the directions of Lisbon, Rio and Yamoussoukro, thanks all the same.
And so, by logical process of elimination we come to Group H:
Spain? This time? Really? They've got the players. But they've had the players before. Many, many times. They've, supposedly, got the right attitude now. But, that's another one we've heard before. They've won the European Championships, so that'll have given then the confidence to do it at world level. Meh, they did that, before, in the 60s, and it didn't work then. Dunno. Really, genuinely don't know. They were a sight to see at Euro 2008. If they turn it on in this tournament it could be a case of sitting back and watching greatness. But, it's Spain. And, with that, comes uncertainly.
Switzerland will presumably do what they did last time, play Alex Frei in front of their back nine and play for penalties. Which they're, seemingly, crap at! if there's any natural justice, they'll go out, meekly, without scoring a goal in the first round as punishment for their part in the Ukraine non-event four years ago. More likely, they'll go out in the second round, on penalties, after four life-sucking 0-0 draws.
Honduras. Rank outsiders - were plucky and impressive the one time they've qualified before (long, long time ago, though). It's easy to get all patronising and say things like 'for them, the world cup is just being there' and they're certainly a better bet for the second round than, say, New Zealand or North Korea. But, they're likely on the first plane home.
Chile have some terrific players - Humberto Suazo in particular. If they can get one past Switzerland, they could make the second round.
Today, it's the Anticipation. Tomorrow, it's the real thing.
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Nice write up and made me chuckle, thanks. But does your boss know you've spent all morning writing your World Cup Diary?
Nice to see you back again for this World Cup. Keep up the good work !
Day 1: 11 June
Bafana Bafana v Meh-H-Ho
Blatter's disgraceful brown-tongued opening speech resembled something from a Nuermberg Rally. Chiles' comments was almost as bad, instructing ITV's audience that we all had 'to be South Africa fans for the next ninety minutes.' Really? I understand the feel-good factor of a host nation - particularly one with a developing, and vibrant football culture - being successful, really I do. But, I hate being told who I have to support. So, I became an adopted Mexie out of sheer bloodymindedness.
The Mexies, unfamiliar in dark blue, almost grabbed a dramatic opener inside two minutes but, thereafter, it settled down to a rather uninvolving first half, the highlight of which was when Jim Beglin's microphone briefly packed-in. Sadly, he got it fixed. Franco missed a free-header at one point and was so annoyed with himself he kicked one of the advertising boards. I imagine FIFA will give him a ten game suspension for that. If he'd kicked another player, he might not have even got booked. (Although, the ref was quite good, I thought.) The game got better in the last few minutes of the first half, to be fair - chances at both ends and Mexican goal chalked-off for offside. And then, it exploded into life early in the second half when Siphiwe Tshabalala scored a great goal after a sweeping four-man move. The South Africans played some delightful stuff but, you always had a feeling they were a bit defensively naive and, with quarter of an hour left Rafael Márquez, unmarked at the back post, only went and equalised. The Africans had a late chance to win it, but Mpehla hit the post.
So - decent, unspectacular start. It took its time to get going but, once it got there, it wasn't without some charm.
Goals: 2
Red Cards: 0
Bafana Bafana v Meh-H-Ho
Blatter's disgraceful brown-tongued opening speech resembled something from a Nuermberg Rally. Chiles' comments was almost as bad, instructing ITV's audience that we all had 'to be South Africa fans for the next ninety minutes.' Really? I understand the feel-good factor of a host nation - particularly one with a developing, and vibrant football culture - being successful, really I do. But, I hate being told who I have to support. So, I became an adopted Mexie out of sheer bloodymindedness.
The Mexies, unfamiliar in dark blue, almost grabbed a dramatic opener inside two minutes but, thereafter, it settled down to a rather uninvolving first half, the highlight of which was when Jim Beglin's microphone briefly packed-in. Sadly, he got it fixed. Franco missed a free-header at one point and was so annoyed with himself he kicked one of the advertising boards. I imagine FIFA will give him a ten game suspension for that. If he'd kicked another player, he might not have even got booked. (Although, the ref was quite good, I thought.) The game got better in the last few minutes of the first half, to be fair - chances at both ends and Mexican goal chalked-off for offside. And then, it exploded into life early in the second half when Siphiwe Tshabalala scored a great goal after a sweeping four-man move. The South Africans played some delightful stuff but, you always had a feeling they were a bit defensively naive and, with quarter of an hour left Rafael Márquez, unmarked at the back post, only went and equalised. The Africans had a late chance to win it, but Mpehla hit the post.
So - decent, unspectacular start. It took its time to get going but, once it got there, it wasn't without some charm.
Goals: 2
Red Cards: 0
Any thoughts on the high bounce of the ball GP? Seemed to be a genuine difficulty for the Mexicans.... although the Saffers seemed fine with it.
Also noticed that the ball didn't seem to fly quite as horribly as predicted.. it lifts then flattens in trajectory, could be some goals through both defensive mix ups with the bounce and stonking free kicks with the nice flight imo.
Also noticed that the ball didn't seem to fly quite as horribly as predicted.. it lifts then flattens in trajectory, could be some goals through both defensive mix ups with the bounce and stonking free kicks with the nice flight imo.
I'm hoping other teams cope with it better lori, as you said saffers coped ok and arnt the most skillfull of teams. Although as a self confessed fan of wingplay if the other teams dont do a better job than the mexican wingers I might need a new tv within the week.
Sacre Blues v U-Are-Guys
BBC's opening coverage was tell nice - a video of Nelson Mandela's 'Rainbow Nation' speech set to images of the country. Then Gary Lineker did a two minute piece for the South African tourist board in front of table mountain. The BBC's 'sizzling summer of sport' kicked-off with a panel line-up of Gary, Hansen, Shearer and Emmanuel Adebayor bigging up the gaff. Hansen described the comically loathed-by-pretty-much-everyone Raymonde Domenech as 'a bit of nutter,' much to Shearer's amusement, Steve Wilson managed to talk all over Lee Dixon’s pitch side moment asking 'will we get a cue,' and there were lots of rumours of right stroppy goings-on in the French camp.
Reasons why I wanted Uruguay to win this match:
1) Because, as Homer Simpson’s memorably noted, 'there's a country called U-Are-Gay.'
2) There strip is a very pleasing shade of light blue.
3) They're playing France.
... that's it really.
Oh, and the presence of Thierry Henry in the French squad. Not, necessarily, because of the handball thing, I think the Irish have milked that a bit too much but, mainly, because he always seems to have that slightly scowling look on his face like he's just smelled some ¤¤¤¤ nearby. Every time we got a cut-away shot of him on the bench - looking bored - we also got a ludicrous tongue-rimming of 'the great Thierry' from Wilson and Lawrenson in the commentary box. Otherwise, it was a very uneventful first half. 'The last ten minutes has been a bit of a non-event' said Mr Hansen. That's being a bit over kind to the previous thirty five, frankly.
'A technical hitch' wiped out Gabby Logan's England report at half time. And then the second half just, sort of, dragged on. There was a bit of push-and-shove handbags, a disgraceful moment of licking from Steve Wilson when Henry came on and a half chance for Forlan. Malouda came on as well, a couple of Uruguayans got kicked and held up imaginary cards. Sterility ruled. If ever a game was crying out for a goal, or a fifteen man brawl, or a dog running on the pitch or something to liven it up, this was it. Lodeiro got sent off for a rather nasty ankle breaker on Bacary Sagna. Henry claimed a penalty, but it wasn't given then had a free kick in a great position late on and wasted it. That just sort of sums up the game. Too often they seem to want to walk it in rather than just have a shot. It reminded me for so many French performances in the last two World Cups. Hugely disappointing.
Goals: 2
Red Cards: 1
BBC's opening coverage was tell nice - a video of Nelson Mandela's 'Rainbow Nation' speech set to images of the country. Then Gary Lineker did a two minute piece for the South African tourist board in front of table mountain. The BBC's 'sizzling summer of sport' kicked-off with a panel line-up of Gary, Hansen, Shearer and Emmanuel Adebayor bigging up the gaff. Hansen described the comically loathed-by-pretty-much-everyone Raymonde Domenech as 'a bit of nutter,' much to Shearer's amusement, Steve Wilson managed to talk all over Lee Dixon’s pitch side moment asking 'will we get a cue,' and there were lots of rumours of right stroppy goings-on in the French camp.
Reasons why I wanted Uruguay to win this match:
1) Because, as Homer Simpson’s memorably noted, 'there's a country called U-Are-Gay.'
2) There strip is a very pleasing shade of light blue.
3) They're playing France.
... that's it really.
Oh, and the presence of Thierry Henry in the French squad. Not, necessarily, because of the handball thing, I think the Irish have milked that a bit too much but, mainly, because he always seems to have that slightly scowling look on his face like he's just smelled some ¤¤¤¤ nearby. Every time we got a cut-away shot of him on the bench - looking bored - we also got a ludicrous tongue-rimming of 'the great Thierry' from Wilson and Lawrenson in the commentary box. Otherwise, it was a very uneventful first half. 'The last ten minutes has been a bit of a non-event' said Mr Hansen. That's being a bit over kind to the previous thirty five, frankly.
'A technical hitch' wiped out Gabby Logan's England report at half time. And then the second half just, sort of, dragged on. There was a bit of push-and-shove handbags, a disgraceful moment of licking from Steve Wilson when Henry came on and a half chance for Forlan. Malouda came on as well, a couple of Uruguayans got kicked and held up imaginary cards. Sterility ruled. If ever a game was crying out for a goal, or a fifteen man brawl, or a dog running on the pitch or something to liven it up, this was it. Lodeiro got sent off for a rather nasty ankle breaker on Bacary Sagna. Henry claimed a penalty, but it wasn't given then had a free kick in a great position late on and wasted it. That just sort of sums up the game. Too often they seem to want to walk it in rather than just have a shot. It reminded me for so many French performances in the last two World Cups. Hugely disappointing.
Goals: 2
Red Cards: 1
The Relatively Sensible Part of Korea v Greece is the Word
'What do you think of Koreans?' Bob Ferris once asked Terry Collier in Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads? as the pair tried to avoid hearing the result of an England football match. 'Sinister,' replied Yer Man Terry after a moment's consideration. 'Much like all Orientals.' 'Oh well,' noted Bob, 'that's a third of the world's population gone in a phrase!' I must say I very much enjoyed Jon Champion's intro on ITV in which he described Port Elizabeth as 'South Africa's motor city, a sort of Detroit by the sea!' And on a different continent, obviously. Chiles and Townsend weren't in evidence in the studio, meaning we got The B team of Matt Smith (no, the other one), Robbie Earle and a very uncomfortable-looking Edgar Davids.
South Korea's national anthem shares a tune with North Koreas. Which could come in very handy one day. Greece's, by contrast, seems rather sensible, informing any enemies of the nation that 'I shall always recognise you/By the dreadful sword you hold.' Yeah, that's usually a good way of spotting enemies, I've found. I made the great discovery that by fiddling with the bass and treble controls on my amp, the vuvuzelas sounded marginally less irritating today.
It took Champion exactly one minute and six seconds to mention Greece's current financial woes. And, a further three minutes before we got our first reference to feta cheese. As Aristotle once said, 'Όλες οι ανθρώπινες ενέργειες έχουν μια ή περισσότερες από αυτές τις επτά αιτίες: πιθανότητα, φύση, εξαναγκασμοί, συνήθεια, λόγος, πάθος, επιθυμία.' Which, I think we can all agree with, can't we?
The Greeks started like eleven players who spoke eleven different languages (so, it couldn't have been all Greek to them) and, after six minutes, conceded a soft goal - Lee Jung-Su scoring after an inswinging free-kick should have been dealt with by Katsouranis. 'Hoisted by their own petard,' according The Other Smudger at half-time. The Koreans were neat, organised and lighting quick on the break whereas the Greeks simply never turned up in the first half. Thus, one was reduced to being impressed by the commentators' ability to say Papadopoulos without making it sound like he was ordering a large donar with fries at some kebab shop in Potter's Bar.
The second half was more of the same, and it was no surprise when the Koreans got a fine second goal when Park Ji-Sung against pounced on a Greek defensive mistake. The New Zealand ref was a bit whistle-happy but didn't make any obvious calamities. In fact, the majority of the second half was devoted to wondering if Champion and Craig Burley were going to do the entire Abbott and Costello 'Who's the Manager' routine. It was eighty minutes into the match before Gekas produced a proper save from the Korean keeper (it was a good one, mind). To sum up, then. One team showing passion, commitment and a fair bit of guile, simply wanted it more and finding it easy as pi. The other, frankly, a hugely disappointing disgrace.
Goals: 4
Red Cards: 1
'What do you think of Koreans?' Bob Ferris once asked Terry Collier in Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads? as the pair tried to avoid hearing the result of an England football match. 'Sinister,' replied Yer Man Terry after a moment's consideration. 'Much like all Orientals.' 'Oh well,' noted Bob, 'that's a third of the world's population gone in a phrase!' I must say I very much enjoyed Jon Champion's intro on ITV in which he described Port Elizabeth as 'South Africa's motor city, a sort of Detroit by the sea!' And on a different continent, obviously. Chiles and Townsend weren't in evidence in the studio, meaning we got The B team of Matt Smith (no, the other one), Robbie Earle and a very uncomfortable-looking Edgar Davids.
South Korea's national anthem shares a tune with North Koreas. Which could come in very handy one day. Greece's, by contrast, seems rather sensible, informing any enemies of the nation that 'I shall always recognise you/By the dreadful sword you hold.' Yeah, that's usually a good way of spotting enemies, I've found. I made the great discovery that by fiddling with the bass and treble controls on my amp, the vuvuzelas sounded marginally less irritating today.
It took Champion exactly one minute and six seconds to mention Greece's current financial woes. And, a further three minutes before we got our first reference to feta cheese. As Aristotle once said, 'Όλες οι ανθρώπινες ενέργειες έχουν μια ή περισσότερες από αυτές τις επτά αιτίες: πιθανότητα, φύση, εξαναγκασμοί, συνήθεια, λόγος, πάθος, επιθυμία.' Which, I think we can all agree with, can't we?
The Greeks started like eleven players who spoke eleven different languages (so, it couldn't have been all Greek to them) and, after six minutes, conceded a soft goal - Lee Jung-Su scoring after an inswinging free-kick should have been dealt with by Katsouranis. 'Hoisted by their own petard,' according The Other Smudger at half-time. The Koreans were neat, organised and lighting quick on the break whereas the Greeks simply never turned up in the first half. Thus, one was reduced to being impressed by the commentators' ability to say Papadopoulos without making it sound like he was ordering a large donar with fries at some kebab shop in Potter's Bar.
The second half was more of the same, and it was no surprise when the Koreans got a fine second goal when Park Ji-Sung against pounced on a Greek defensive mistake. The New Zealand ref was a bit whistle-happy but didn't make any obvious calamities. In fact, the majority of the second half was devoted to wondering if Champion and Craig Burley were going to do the entire Abbott and Costello 'Who's the Manager' routine. It was eighty minutes into the match before Gekas produced a proper save from the Korean keeper (it was a good one, mind). To sum up, then. One team showing passion, commitment and a fair bit of guile, simply wanted it more and finding it easy as pi. The other, frankly, a hugely disappointing disgrace.
Goals: 4
Red Cards: 1
Allright Grav?
Just catching the start of the R-G game
Diego going for the de niro-in-The-Mission-look I see
Just catching the start of the R-G game
Diego going for the de niro-in-The-Mission-look I see
Arrrrrrgentina v Nigeria
Gary Lineker introduced Jurgen Klinsmann to the viewing public as 'Britain's favourite German.' Eh? Did we have an vote on that, Gary? And as soon as he handed over to the stadium, it got rapidly worse. Jonathan Pearce and Mick McCarthy, the commentary duo from hell. Horrible. Just horrible. Mercifully, BBC viewers experienced 'some sound difficulties' during the first half so, at least, we got an occasional break from Pearce's bellowing and McCarthy's pitiless, monotone drone.
Nigeria's national anthem begins 'Arise, O compatriots/Nigeria's call obey,' which is a bit domineering and stern. Compared, however, to Argentina's stoppy-starty one, which sounds like a Genesis b-side, it's a little pop classic. 'Mortals! Hear the sacred cry/Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!' Cupcakes? Oh no, sorry, Maradona's eaten all those. Anyway ... what idiot had the bright idea of playing Jonas Gutierrez at right back? Oh, Maradona. Fair enough. Still, the Argies are, genuinely, a team of all the talents and that was further emphasised after five minutes when Heinze got a free header from a corner and bulleted it in. They then strolled around like they owned the place for much of the rest of the match, though Tevez was a bit anonymous in the first half and Messi was only brilliant in little flashes.
At half-time were got more Garth Crooks. What, exactly, had we done to deserve that?
The second half was a bit more open. Messi messed up a terrific Argentine four-versus-two break. Nigeria brought on Oba Martins to give them something more potent up front. But, that didn't work. And all the while Maradona stood on the touchline, mad as toast, arms folded and hand clamped under his armpits as if to hide a significant BO problem, scowling like the old woman down the road who threatened to burst your ball if it came in her garden. I mean, it was good stuff, in patches - the Argies barely getting out of first gear but still looking very classy, the Nigerians good in possession but with little punch up front. A Martins' shot after seventy odd minutes was the first real save Romero had to make. Speaking of goalkeepers, the best player on the pitch was probably Enyeama. Big and strong, I imagine he's put a couple of noughts on any potential transfer fee if Hapoel Tel Aviv want to cash in on him. Both sides missed good chances near the end but, ultimately, Argentina just had that little bit more up front.
Goals: 5
Red Cards: 1
Gary Lineker introduced Jurgen Klinsmann to the viewing public as 'Britain's favourite German.' Eh? Did we have an vote on that, Gary? And as soon as he handed over to the stadium, it got rapidly worse. Jonathan Pearce and Mick McCarthy, the commentary duo from hell. Horrible. Just horrible. Mercifully, BBC viewers experienced 'some sound difficulties' during the first half so, at least, we got an occasional break from Pearce's bellowing and McCarthy's pitiless, monotone drone.
Nigeria's national anthem begins 'Arise, O compatriots/Nigeria's call obey,' which is a bit domineering and stern. Compared, however, to Argentina's stoppy-starty one, which sounds like a Genesis b-side, it's a little pop classic. 'Mortals! Hear the sacred cry/Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!' Cupcakes? Oh no, sorry, Maradona's eaten all those. Anyway ... what idiot had the bright idea of playing Jonas Gutierrez at right back? Oh, Maradona. Fair enough. Still, the Argies are, genuinely, a team of all the talents and that was further emphasised after five minutes when Heinze got a free header from a corner and bulleted it in. They then strolled around like they owned the place for much of the rest of the match, though Tevez was a bit anonymous in the first half and Messi was only brilliant in little flashes.
At half-time were got more Garth Crooks. What, exactly, had we done to deserve that?
The second half was a bit more open. Messi messed up a terrific Argentine four-versus-two break. Nigeria brought on Oba Martins to give them something more potent up front. But, that didn't work. And all the while Maradona stood on the touchline, mad as toast, arms folded and hand clamped under his armpits as if to hide a significant BO problem, scowling like the old woman down the road who threatened to burst your ball if it came in her garden. I mean, it was good stuff, in patches - the Argies barely getting out of first gear but still looking very classy, the Nigerians good in possession but with little punch up front. A Martins' shot after seventy odd minutes was the first real save Romero had to make. Speaking of goalkeepers, the best player on the pitch was probably Enyeama. Big and strong, I imagine he's put a couple of noughts on any potential transfer fee if Hapoel Tel Aviv want to cash in on him. Both sides missed good chances near the end but, ultimately, Argentina just had that little bit more up front.
Goals: 5
Red Cards: 1
Nations fav German hey grav
Tough one
I Know mickey shoemaker had a huge F1 fan base
Tough one
I Know mickey shoemaker had a huge F1 fan base
England My England v You-Ess-Hay
Missed, of course, all of the ITV build up to the England game as I was doing what all sensible people do on a Saturday night in Britain - watching Doctor Who.
Thank goodness World Cup matches aren't decided on national anthems otherwise 'The Star Spangled Banner' would spank 'God Save The Queen' about 8-0. Even with the fourth verse taken into account!
Clive Tyldesley and Andy Townsend - another commentary team from the land where misery rules. They only had three minutes to waffle, however, before Stevie G had the ball in the American net. Sexy start. It was all looking so good for a while - nothing spectacular but a reasonably straightforward game of absolutes and (reasonable) positives. And then, a few minutes before half-time, England had a goalkeeping calamity and, for once, it was nowt to do with David James. A relatively weak shot from Clint Eastwood (or, somebody) dribbled towards Rob Green who had an inexplicable Peter Bonetti moment and, somehow, a game that England had never looked in remote danger of being level in was, now, level.
At half time, Chilesy tried to soothe a nation's furrowed bows with passive reassurance. 'The usual mixture of hope and horror.' Yeah, thanks mate, we got that. Andy Townsend, meanwhile, managed to lay all of the blame at Capello's door for 'all this messing around with who's the number one goalkeeper.' Except, without actually saying so and hurriedly adding, 'course, that's got nothing to do with the mistake.' Yeah. Thanks for that too, Andy. You're getting paid for this deep stuff, I trust?
The second half progressed with a sort of nasty inevitability. Heskey got through one-on-one with Tim Howard and shot straight at the keeper. Green made a lot of amends saving point blank from Altidore. Lampard had a free kick in a dangerous position that he put into Row Z. Rooney narrowly avoided getting on the end of Wright-Phillips cross. England picked up unnecessary bookings and at least one wholly expected injury (King, unsurprisingly). Don't lose your first game is, of course, the first rule of World Cup club, so this is far from a disaster. But, it was an underwhelming, rather flat and one-paced performance against well-organised but not particularly outstanding opponents. And, it was easy to see which country was the most happy with the result at the end.
England, eh? They never make it easy for themselves, do they?!
Goals: 7
Red Cards: 1
Missed, of course, all of the ITV build up to the England game as I was doing what all sensible people do on a Saturday night in Britain - watching Doctor Who.
Thank goodness World Cup matches aren't decided on national anthems otherwise 'The Star Spangled Banner' would spank 'God Save The Queen' about 8-0. Even with the fourth verse taken into account!
Clive Tyldesley and Andy Townsend - another commentary team from the land where misery rules. They only had three minutes to waffle, however, before Stevie G had the ball in the American net. Sexy start. It was all looking so good for a while - nothing spectacular but a reasonably straightforward game of absolutes and (reasonable) positives. And then, a few minutes before half-time, England had a goalkeeping calamity and, for once, it was nowt to do with David James. A relatively weak shot from Clint Eastwood (or, somebody) dribbled towards Rob Green who had an inexplicable Peter Bonetti moment and, somehow, a game that England had never looked in remote danger of being level in was, now, level.
At half time, Chilesy tried to soothe a nation's furrowed bows with passive reassurance. 'The usual mixture of hope and horror.' Yeah, thanks mate, we got that. Andy Townsend, meanwhile, managed to lay all of the blame at Capello's door for 'all this messing around with who's the number one goalkeeper.' Except, without actually saying so and hurriedly adding, 'course, that's got nothing to do with the mistake.' Yeah. Thanks for that too, Andy. You're getting paid for this deep stuff, I trust?
The second half progressed with a sort of nasty inevitability. Heskey got through one-on-one with Tim Howard and shot straight at the keeper. Green made a lot of amends saving point blank from Altidore. Lampard had a free kick in a dangerous position that he put into Row Z. Rooney narrowly avoided getting on the end of Wright-Phillips cross. England picked up unnecessary bookings and at least one wholly expected injury (King, unsurprisingly). Don't lose your first game is, of course, the first rule of World Cup club, so this is far from a disaster. But, it was an underwhelming, rather flat and one-paced performance against well-organised but not particularly outstanding opponents. And, it was easy to see which country was the most happy with the result at the end.
England, eh? They never make it easy for themselves, do they?!
Goals: 7
Red Cards: 1
Shall reply as much as poss to this thread as I dont want it slipping off the forum, particularly as gubbed.com no longer is playing ball
Obviously living in wales of welsh parentage watched the game with eyes on the states
Centre back pairing were immense, Gooch & de Merit coped well over all, the covering pair of Bradley & Clark not so good
Ingerlund impressed me. Capello seems to have solved the Lamprd Gerrard conundrum by telling both to sit, which seemed to work. Heskey was immense Wayne Rodney largely anonymous as the US more or less kept him quiet, Bradley & Clark seemed more concerned with him than Heskey, FL or SG which I suppose makes sense
Most glaringly obvious fact of the game is that Carragher is not up to international football.
In truth he's not up to the EPL. Skinned by Altidore who's no world beater he really ought to have seen red for that arm across 'Harry' Findley which the ref conveniently overlooked.
Had it been the other way round, you can easily imagine the english surrounding the ref etc
Still what comes around...
Obviously living in wales of welsh parentage watched the game with eyes on the states
Centre back pairing were immense, Gooch & de Merit coped well over all, the covering pair of Bradley & Clark not so good
Ingerlund impressed me. Capello seems to have solved the Lamprd Gerrard conundrum by telling both to sit, which seemed to work. Heskey was immense Wayne Rodney largely anonymous as the US more or less kept him quiet, Bradley & Clark seemed more concerned with him than Heskey, FL or SG which I suppose makes sense
Most glaringly obvious fact of the game is that Carragher is not up to international football.
In truth he's not up to the EPL. Skinned by Altidore who's no world beater he really ought to have seen red for that arm across 'Harry' Findley which the ref conveniently overlooked.
Had it been the other way round, you can easily imagine the english surrounding the ref etc
Still what comes around...
Day 3: 13 June
Algeria v Slovenia
The Algerian national anthem opens with 'we swear by the lightning that destroys/By the streams of generous blood being shed.' Almost certainly the only national anthem to allude to the very, very frightening qualities of lightning unless the Czech republic decide to start using Bohemian Rhapsody one of these days. The remainder of the anthem is devoted to all the other things the Algerians would like to do to the French. Much like 'God Save The Queen', in fact. Slovenia's effort, for the country that brought the world Laibach, is mercifully free of much jingoism. 'God's blessing on all nations/Who long and work for that bright day/When o'er earth's habitation/No war, no strife shall hold their sway.' Rite on, brother. And, also nice to know that, even in Slovene, 'day' and 'sway' still rhyme.
The BBC pundits sounded, frankly, bored before this one. Well, let's face it, you would too if you had to sit through ninety minutes of Mark Bright with no possible escape. Speaking of whom, is that a gold lamé suit he's wearing in his BBC publicity photo? The game itself got off a pretty dreadful start. Not much of energy and endeavour and, even less in the way of actual goal mouth scrambling. It looked like two average championship sides trying not to lose in case they got sucked into a relegation dogfight.
The best bit of the first half was the discovery that the Slovenian manager is called Matjaž Kek. he was a former part-time DJ and, so Simon Brotherton informed us, there was 'some disquiet' when he got the job with the national team. I wonder if that's because he's got a brother? And they're called the Keks?
Poor old Brotherton - stuck in a box with Mark Wright for ninety minutes and with a match worse than France v Uruguay to commentate on. It's no wonder that, by the half hour mark, he was reduced to wittering on about the BBC World Cup website instead of describing all the action that wasn't happening on the pitch! At half-time, Alan Hansen (on his birthday) summed up a nation's thought: 'I should not be subjected to this sort of pain!'
The second half, unsurprisingly, was equally boring. Zinedine Zidane, in the crowd, looked so bored I thought he was going to nut someone. The dullness reached its height when I spent ten second half minutes having a conversation with my mother about the electronic advertising boards around the pitch. No, really. Thirty thousand in the crowd nodded off in the afternoon sun. Ghezzal got so bored, he deliberately handled the ball and got sent off. And then, with ten minutes left, Robert Koren took a speculative shot from the edge of the box and the Algerian keeper, Chaouchi who'd looked pretty good so far, inexplicably dived over it. One moment of hijinx comedy that save this fiasco from being this year's Switzerland v Ukraine. Four minutes of injury time just seemed like added punishment. 'It's not been one of the great ones, has it?' asked Brotherton. You said it, mate.
Goals: 8
Red Cards: 2
Algeria v Slovenia
The Algerian national anthem opens with 'we swear by the lightning that destroys/By the streams of generous blood being shed.' Almost certainly the only national anthem to allude to the very, very frightening qualities of lightning unless the Czech republic decide to start using Bohemian Rhapsody one of these days. The remainder of the anthem is devoted to all the other things the Algerians would like to do to the French. Much like 'God Save The Queen', in fact. Slovenia's effort, for the country that brought the world Laibach, is mercifully free of much jingoism. 'God's blessing on all nations/Who long and work for that bright day/When o'er earth's habitation/No war, no strife shall hold their sway.' Rite on, brother. And, also nice to know that, even in Slovene, 'day' and 'sway' still rhyme.
The BBC pundits sounded, frankly, bored before this one. Well, let's face it, you would too if you had to sit through ninety minutes of Mark Bright with no possible escape. Speaking of whom, is that a gold lamé suit he's wearing in his BBC publicity photo? The game itself got off a pretty dreadful start. Not much of energy and endeavour and, even less in the way of actual goal mouth scrambling. It looked like two average championship sides trying not to lose in case they got sucked into a relegation dogfight.
The best bit of the first half was the discovery that the Slovenian manager is called Matjaž Kek. he was a former part-time DJ and, so Simon Brotherton informed us, there was 'some disquiet' when he got the job with the national team. I wonder if that's because he's got a brother? And they're called the Keks?
Poor old Brotherton - stuck in a box with Mark Wright for ninety minutes and with a match worse than France v Uruguay to commentate on. It's no wonder that, by the half hour mark, he was reduced to wittering on about the BBC World Cup website instead of describing all the action that wasn't happening on the pitch! At half-time, Alan Hansen (on his birthday) summed up a nation's thought: 'I should not be subjected to this sort of pain!'
The second half, unsurprisingly, was equally boring. Zinedine Zidane, in the crowd, looked so bored I thought he was going to nut someone. The dullness reached its height when I spent ten second half minutes having a conversation with my mother about the electronic advertising boards around the pitch. No, really. Thirty thousand in the crowd nodded off in the afternoon sun. Ghezzal got so bored, he deliberately handled the ball and got sent off. And then, with ten minutes left, Robert Koren took a speculative shot from the edge of the box and the Algerian keeper, Chaouchi who'd looked pretty good so far, inexplicably dived over it. One moment of hijinx comedy that save this fiasco from being this year's Switzerland v Ukraine. Four minutes of injury time just seemed like added punishment. 'It's not been one of the great ones, has it?' asked Brotherton. You said it, mate.
Goals: 8
Red Cards: 2
Serbia v Ghana
'This one promises much,' Matt Smith (no, the other one) said on ITV. That just had to be bad news, surely?!
Pre-match the Argentine referee was playing up to the cameras whilst Clive Tydlesley wittered on about all the crap you'd expect him to - 'clash of cultures, blah, blah, blah.' Then, we had a shot of some African in the crowd with, it seemed, his head on fire in a Crazy World of Arthur Brown style. Nice colour scheme for the Ghana keeper - lilac and slightly darker lilac with orange boots. The opening two minutes provided more passion, effort and skill as the entire ninety minutes of the previous game.
Ghana had sprung a surprise leaving both Muntari and Appiah out - although the latter has been injured. Ghana strong and pacey, the Serbs counter-attacking effectively and everything going through wily old Stanković. No goals, but lots of good touches and invention. There were chances - good chances - at both ends but when Clive Tyldesley said 'there's going to be a goal soon, at one end or the other,' the game seemed to have 0-0 written all over it. And, that was the way it looked even after Lukovic was (rightly) sent off for a second yellow, despite his protestations of innocence. Banged to rights, my son. Then, seven minutes from time, a stupid handball by one of the Serbian defenders got spotted and Asamoah Gyan stuck away the penalty with some style. The could have had a second, Gyan hitting the post in added time. But, that was good. That's restored my faith in the World Cup's ability to be surprising and stylish. Africa arise!
Goals: 9
Red Cards: 3
'This one promises much,' Matt Smith (no, the other one) said on ITV. That just had to be bad news, surely?!
Pre-match the Argentine referee was playing up to the cameras whilst Clive Tydlesley wittered on about all the crap you'd expect him to - 'clash of cultures, blah, blah, blah.' Then, we had a shot of some African in the crowd with, it seemed, his head on fire in a Crazy World of Arthur Brown style. Nice colour scheme for the Ghana keeper - lilac and slightly darker lilac with orange boots. The opening two minutes provided more passion, effort and skill as the entire ninety minutes of the previous game.
Ghana had sprung a surprise leaving both Muntari and Appiah out - although the latter has been injured. Ghana strong and pacey, the Serbs counter-attacking effectively and everything going through wily old Stanković. No goals, but lots of good touches and invention. There were chances - good chances - at both ends but when Clive Tyldesley said 'there's going to be a goal soon, at one end or the other,' the game seemed to have 0-0 written all over it. And, that was the way it looked even after Lukovic was (rightly) sent off for a second yellow, despite his protestations of innocence. Banged to rights, my son. Then, seven minutes from time, a stupid handball by one of the Serbian defenders got spotted and Asamoah Gyan stuck away the penalty with some style. The could have had a second, Gyan hitting the post in added time. But, that was good. That's restored my faith in the World Cup's ability to be surprising and stylish. Africa arise!
Goals: 9
Red Cards: 3
Der Chermans v The Boys From Dahn Under (Where Women Glow & Men Chunder)
You really do wonder how ITV can get it so wrong, so often and on so many levels. A potentially fascinating discussion on European rivalries (specifically the Dutch and the Germans and the French and the Italians) between Viera and Davids was sabotaged by Chiles asking dumb questions and Keegan looking, frankly, bored. And, then we got yet another horribly patronising 'report' from Kelly Dalglish with a bunch of pissed-looking Aussies. I cannot wait until we get to the semi-finals and matches are being covered on both sides simultaneously so I can wave bye-bye to ITV's 2010 World Cup completely. Seriously, if Five were covering it, I'd chose them over ITV.
It didn't take the Germans long to go ahead, Podolski netting from close range. Or, Klose range, if you like. They looked, pretty much like German teams always look - organised, efficient, brave, quick and not entirely with out flair or craft. And, bonus, they seem much younger than most German teams from the last half a dozen major tournaments. The Dad's Army generation of Ballack and co finally moving aside for some younger guys.
Australia, unfamiliar in dark blue and without an abundance of flair players themselves, struggled to cope for much of the first half. And failed when Klose grabbed a second. Chiles asked the obvious question at half time, 'Is this the Germans playing well or Australia playing really poorly?' It was a valid query and, in truth, the answer was probably a bit of both (as Jim Beglin noted in the second half). Certainly the Germans looked good. Very good. But their ability to carve open, time and a again, a very static Australian defence (with an average age of thirty one) did suggest that the 'Roos might have somewhat contributed to making the Germans look just a bit better than they actually are.
And, it got worse for them in the second half when Tim Cahill was sent off, possibly a bit unluckily, for a clumsy - rather than a malicious - tackle on Schweinsteiger. Thomas Mueller scored a third with twenty minutes left against, as Peter Drury noted, 'ten slightly shredded Australians.' Three became four when the very impressive Ozil set up Cacau. 'Sie gehen nach hause in ein großes weißes Lufthansa-flugzeug' as they say in Dusseldorf.
So, ultimately, was that a game of men-against boys? Was it, like Argentina vs Serbia & Montenegro four years ago, a case of one teams making another, better, team look like world beaters when they, actually, weren't? The only way to find out, I guess, is to keep watching.
I can do that. I'd like to do that.
Goals: 13
Red Cards: 4
You really do wonder how ITV can get it so wrong, so often and on so many levels. A potentially fascinating discussion on European rivalries (specifically the Dutch and the Germans and the French and the Italians) between Viera and Davids was sabotaged by Chiles asking dumb questions and Keegan looking, frankly, bored. And, then we got yet another horribly patronising 'report' from Kelly Dalglish with a bunch of pissed-looking Aussies. I cannot wait until we get to the semi-finals and matches are being covered on both sides simultaneously so I can wave bye-bye to ITV's 2010 World Cup completely. Seriously, if Five were covering it, I'd chose them over ITV.
It didn't take the Germans long to go ahead, Podolski netting from close range. Or, Klose range, if you like. They looked, pretty much like German teams always look - organised, efficient, brave, quick and not entirely with out flair or craft. And, bonus, they seem much younger than most German teams from the last half a dozen major tournaments. The Dad's Army generation of Ballack and co finally moving aside for some younger guys.
Australia, unfamiliar in dark blue and without an abundance of flair players themselves, struggled to cope for much of the first half. And failed when Klose grabbed a second. Chiles asked the obvious question at half time, 'Is this the Germans playing well or Australia playing really poorly?' It was a valid query and, in truth, the answer was probably a bit of both (as Jim Beglin noted in the second half). Certainly the Germans looked good. Very good. But their ability to carve open, time and a again, a very static Australian defence (with an average age of thirty one) did suggest that the 'Roos might have somewhat contributed to making the Germans look just a bit better than they actually are.
And, it got worse for them in the second half when Tim Cahill was sent off, possibly a bit unluckily, for a clumsy - rather than a malicious - tackle on Schweinsteiger. Thomas Mueller scored a third with twenty minutes left against, as Peter Drury noted, 'ten slightly shredded Australians.' Three became four when the very impressive Ozil set up Cacau. 'Sie gehen nach hause in ein großes weißes Lufthansa-flugzeug' as they say in Dusseldorf.
So, ultimately, was that a game of men-against boys? Was it, like Argentina vs Serbia & Montenegro four years ago, a case of one teams making another, better, team look like world beaters when they, actually, weren't? The only way to find out, I guess, is to keep watching.
I can do that. I'd like to do that.
Goals: 13
Red Cards: 4
Day 4: 14 June
Dutch Caps v Bacon Sandwich
Rushing in from the shops and having to get some proper grub inside me to stop me from fainting necessitated GP to miss most the build up and opening few minutes of this one. Pity, as it features two of my favourite football teams (and, indeed, two of my favourite countries) in the whole wide, wide world. I missed, for instance, the gloriously mental, Netherlands national anthem with its fifteen verses and pledging allegiance to the King of Spain (true story). I missed the Danish one as well, with what is, undoubtedly, the most stirring opening couplet of any national anthem, anywhere: 'King Christian stood by the loft mast/In mist and smoke.' I also missed ITV's build up. So, no great loss there, then.
Of course, it's always a question with the Dutch of which one is going to turn up - the glorious, free-flowing sons of Johan, Wim, other Johan, other Wim, Johnny, Ari, Robbie, Ruudi, third Wim, four Wim etc. In other words, magnificence in all things. Or, is it going to be the team full of the same players, full of quality and imagination, who seem to spend most of their time arguing with each other and threatening to piss off home. Every tournament since 1974, they've teased us, they've played with our emotions, they've 'oh yah, for schure, we do eet thish time, with the pasching and the schcoring and the sexchy voetbal.' And every bastard time, they lie (alright, except Euro '88, I'll give them that one). as recently as two years ago, in the last European Championhsips for two games they were awesome. I mean, mesmeric. And then they lost to Russia. They always do it. They're gits!
The Danes, on the other hand, are just a kind nice friendly cousin, who always turn up to the big events, always do all right, always bring a tasty lady or with them and never outstay their welcome. I like them, I'd just like to see a bit more of them, that's all.
The first-half was, I guess, what you'd expect. Slow, patient, but with mosts of outstanding skill and beauty. And some moments involved Dirk Kypt. And Dennis Rommedahl. So, it wasn't all great. In fact, in patches it was decidedly not great. ITV didn't even try to big it up but Edgar Davids seemed relaxed. To the point of being comatose. Soon as the second-half kicked off, the Dutch scored. Or, rather, Simon Poulson (who, of course, plays in the Netherlands for AZ 67) headed a van Persie cross into his own net. Which was funny. The game woke up a bit with the introduction of the tricky Eljero Elia but you always sensed the Netherlands had too much for some Danish representatives who had, unusually, little up front. A second half highlight, in fact, was a very amusing shot of one of the Dutch bench shouting 'oh schite!' when a deflected Wesley Sneijder shot hit the Danish bar. Kypt added a second late on, set up by the impressive Elia. Easy, peasy. And, indeed, lemon squeezy.
Goals: 15
Red Cards: 4
Dutch Caps v Bacon Sandwich
Rushing in from the shops and having to get some proper grub inside me to stop me from fainting necessitated GP to miss most the build up and opening few minutes of this one. Pity, as it features two of my favourite football teams (and, indeed, two of my favourite countries) in the whole wide, wide world. I missed, for instance, the gloriously mental, Netherlands national anthem with its fifteen verses and pledging allegiance to the King of Spain (true story). I missed the Danish one as well, with what is, undoubtedly, the most stirring opening couplet of any national anthem, anywhere: 'King Christian stood by the loft mast/In mist and smoke.' I also missed ITV's build up. So, no great loss there, then.
Of course, it's always a question with the Dutch of which one is going to turn up - the glorious, free-flowing sons of Johan, Wim, other Johan, other Wim, Johnny, Ari, Robbie, Ruudi, third Wim, four Wim etc. In other words, magnificence in all things. Or, is it going to be the team full of the same players, full of quality and imagination, who seem to spend most of their time arguing with each other and threatening to piss off home. Every tournament since 1974, they've teased us, they've played with our emotions, they've 'oh yah, for schure, we do eet thish time, with the pasching and the schcoring and the sexchy voetbal.' And every bastard time, they lie (alright, except Euro '88, I'll give them that one). as recently as two years ago, in the last European Championhsips for two games they were awesome. I mean, mesmeric. And then they lost to Russia. They always do it. They're gits!
The Danes, on the other hand, are just a kind nice friendly cousin, who always turn up to the big events, always do all right, always bring a tasty lady or with them and never outstay their welcome. I like them, I'd just like to see a bit more of them, that's all.
The first-half was, I guess, what you'd expect. Slow, patient, but with mosts of outstanding skill and beauty. And some moments involved Dirk Kypt. And Dennis Rommedahl. So, it wasn't all great. In fact, in patches it was decidedly not great. ITV didn't even try to big it up but Edgar Davids seemed relaxed. To the point of being comatose. Soon as the second-half kicked off, the Dutch scored. Or, rather, Simon Poulson (who, of course, plays in the Netherlands for AZ 67) headed a van Persie cross into his own net. Which was funny. The game woke up a bit with the introduction of the tricky Eljero Elia but you always sensed the Netherlands had too much for some Danish representatives who had, unusually, little up front. A second half highlight, in fact, was a very amusing shot of one of the Dutch bench shouting 'oh schite!' when a deflected Wesley Sneijder shot hit the Danish bar. Kypt added a second late on, set up by the impressive Elia. Easy, peasy. And, indeed, lemon squeezy.
Goals: 15
Red Cards: 4
Rushing in from the shops and having to get some proper grub inside me to stop me from fainting necessitated GP to miss most the build up and opening few minutes of this one.
Wot no schky GP? You cannot be scherious.
Wot no schky GP? You cannot be scherious.
Indomitable Lions v The Flaming Nips
The BBC opened their coverage with surprisingly (for them, anyway) patronising 'Land of the Rising Sun vs Africa in Miniature' video compilation which was, basically, an excuse for them to dig some Roger Milla footage out of the archives. That was followed by a potentially fascinating discussion on how 'totally boss' Emmanuelle Adebayor's shirt was, as compared to Wor Shearer's. Mercifully, we were saved from that going on for too long when the Single Best Moment Of The World Cup So Far happened. Adebayor's mobile phone went off live on air! Sackable offence that. Hopefully.
The BBC opened their coverage with surprisingly (for them, anyway) patronising 'Land of the Rising Sun vs Africa in Miniature' video compilation which was, basically, an excuse for them to dig some Roger Milla footage out of the archives. That was followed by a potentially fascinating discussion on how 'totally boss' Emmanuelle Adebayor's shirt was, as compared to Wor Shearer's. Mercifully, we were saved from that going on for too long when the Single Best Moment Of The World Cup So Far happened. Adebayor's mobile phone went off live on air! Sackable offence that. Hopefully.
It's always very difficult not to be borderline racist about the Japanese, particularly when they've got a Matsui and a Honda in the team. Big Tosh Toshiba and little Harry Hyundai didn't make it, seemingly. So, for anybody - like me - thinking such disgraceful thoughts, it was very satisfying when Keisuke Honda went and scored. Jazz. 'I'd say it was against the run of play,' noted Mowbray. 'But there hasn't been much play for it to be against.'
Eto'o was having a 'mare but then, he wasn't alone in that. Cameroon were so desperate by the middle of the second half that they brought Geremi on! And yet, for all their lack of penetration they always seemed to be in with the vague chance of scoring against a very hard-working Japanese teams whose one major fault was a kepper not so much nervous of crosses as downright bloody petrified. Yet, as every second went by there were shots of Japanese kids in the crowd going absolutely effing mental. And then the dodgy keeper went and made the save of the game from Eto'o late-on. So, big surprise this. The sun also rises.
Goals: 16
Red Cards: 4
Eto'o was having a 'mare but then, he wasn't alone in that. Cameroon were so desperate by the middle of the second half that they brought Geremi on! And yet, for all their lack of penetration they always seemed to be in with the vague chance of scoring against a very hard-working Japanese teams whose one major fault was a kepper not so much nervous of crosses as downright bloody petrified. Yet, as every second went by there were shots of Japanese kids in the crowd going absolutely effing mental. And then the dodgy keeper went and made the save of the game from Eto'o late-on. So, big surprise this. The sun also rises.
Goals: 16
Red Cards: 4
Bit of an edited one as for some reason I cant post the middle section.
Forza Azzurri v Some Para-Guys
There's not many games of international football than can make me tear myself away from a very entertaining Twenty/20 game at Durham over on Sky. Actually, that's a lie, yes there are. But when one of the teams is the Azzurri that makes the pain somewhat less. Gary Lineker kicked off the BBC's night noting that recent Italian success has usually followed 'corruption, negativeity and pessimism.' Should that be all Italian success has followed those things (and, in some cases, including those things)?
There's not many games of international football than can make me tear myself away from a very entertaining Twenty/20 game at Durham over on Sky. Actually, that's a lie, yes there are. But when one of the teams is the Azzurri that makes the pain somewhat less. Gary Lineker kicked off the BBC's night noting that recent Italian success has usually followed 'corruption, negativeity and pessimism.' Should that be all Italian success has followed those things (and, in some cases, including those things)?
He then introduced the panel (Hansen, Dixon and Seedorf - fast emerging as the BBC's bright new star) as 'nearly as old as the Italian team.'
He went on to scotch the rumour that the Azzurri had held a minute's silence when they heard Last of the Summer Wine was finishing
and ended a thoroughly entertaining little New Faces-style stand-up routine by noting that Paraguay's star player is usually their keeper,
nope computer trouble will try posting the rest tomorrow
nope i'm getting error messages when trying to post copy text from my saved windows file.
Ebony and Ivory Coast v Portuguese Men of War
ITV, predictably, began their coverage with a Ronalda love-spurt of quite disgraceful proportions. I mean, seriously, it was one step away from throwing him on the bed, smothering him in honey and then licking it off whilst moaning, erotically, 'oh yeah, baby, you're the greatest. Fill me with your love juice' As if that wasn't bad enough, twenty seconds into the match I got a blue-screen-of-death error message on my PC (the latest of several I've been getting of late over the last few weeks). So, I finally decided it was time to bite the bullet and order a new PC base unit. Knickers. That's three hundred quid I haven't got down the swanny.
Anyway, hence I was on the phone to Dell for the next half hour and missed most of the first half. It was still 0-0 when I got back. 'No much to report. Some tetchiness, some pushing, some shoving and one post hit,' reported Peter Drury. Sadly, whilst it was Ronaldo who hit the post, it was, seeming, with the ball and not his face. Sounds like I didn't miss much, then! God, it must've been bad, Andy Townsend called it 'dire.' And he's someone who really knows all about that state of consciousness. Still, at least we got that funny 'did Belgium even qualify?' Carling lager advert at half-time.
The second half drifted along for a while. Then Drogba came on and the crowd when effing bonkers. It didn't improve matters, however. For two of the undoubted flair sides in this tournament, this was very uninspiring stuff. Of course, Ronaldo had his ankles clipped at one point and went down like he'd just been the victim of knife crime. Satisfyingly, when he finally peeled himself off the turf and took the free-kick, it went well over the bar.
How, you may well ask, can game that featured this number of quality players (and, we're talking about a good dozen at least whom anybody who knew a smidgen about the game would consider world class) could produce a match with so little in the way of actual quality. Good question. And one that's cropped up several times so far in the tournament. Maybe it is the ball? Or the vuvuzelas? Or fear itself? Whatever it is, this has been the worst World Cup opening week since 1990 without any shadow of a doubt. Too much fear all round.
Goals: 20
Red Cards: 4
ITV, predictably, began their coverage with a Ronalda love-spurt of quite disgraceful proportions. I mean, seriously, it was one step away from throwing him on the bed, smothering him in honey and then licking it off whilst moaning, erotically, 'oh yeah, baby, you're the greatest. Fill me with your love juice' As if that wasn't bad enough, twenty seconds into the match I got a blue-screen-of-death error message on my PC (the latest of several I've been getting of late over the last few weeks). So, I finally decided it was time to bite the bullet and order a new PC base unit. Knickers. That's three hundred quid I haven't got down the swanny.
Anyway, hence I was on the phone to Dell for the next half hour and missed most of the first half. It was still 0-0 when I got back. 'No much to report. Some tetchiness, some pushing, some shoving and one post hit,' reported Peter Drury. Sadly, whilst it was Ronaldo who hit the post, it was, seeming, with the ball and not his face. Sounds like I didn't miss much, then! God, it must've been bad, Andy Townsend called it 'dire.' And he's someone who really knows all about that state of consciousness. Still, at least we got that funny 'did Belgium even qualify?' Carling lager advert at half-time.
The second half drifted along for a while. Then Drogba came on and the crowd when effing bonkers. It didn't improve matters, however. For two of the undoubted flair sides in this tournament, this was very uninspiring stuff. Of course, Ronaldo had his ankles clipped at one point and went down like he'd just been the victim of knife crime. Satisfyingly, when he finally peeled himself off the turf and took the free-kick, it went well over the bar.
How, you may well ask, can game that featured this number of quality players (and, we're talking about a good dozen at least whom anybody who knew a smidgen about the game would consider world class) could produce a match with so little in the way of actual quality. Good question. And one that's cropped up several times so far in the tournament. Maybe it is the ball? Or the vuvuzelas? Or fear itself? Whatever it is, this has been the worst World Cup opening week since 1990 without any shadow of a doubt. Too much fear all round.
Goals: 20
Red Cards: 4
Day 5:
New Zealand Lambs v Slovakia (without a cheque to its name)
'It's going to be an epic' said Gary Lineker, his voice dripping in irony. Talking about the teams New Zealand played to qualify Gary mentioned Vanatau, New Caledonia and Fiji before adding, 'I'm sure one of those is a volcano.'
New Zealand actually have two national anthems, the lucky so and sos. There's 'God save The Queen' and, the one they played here, 'God Defend New Zealand.' So, no country for old atheists, then? The Maori anthem, persumably, is 'God Save Us From New Zealanders'? 'Lightning flashes over the Tara, the tunder pounds wildly,' begins the Slovakian anthem, positively. 'Let them pause, brothers, they will surely disappear, the Slovaks will revive.' Nice imagery.
It took ten minutes before Simon Brotherton came up with 'who says there's no romance left in the World Cup?' the final cliche taboo, I reckon. 'What an awful passage of play that was between the two teams,' noted Brotherton after half-an-hour. He was talked about a thirty second period during which both gave the ball away but three times each, but it was actually a pretty accurate descritpion of the first half. Mind you, to poor chap had Martin Keown sitting next to him, that's enough to give anybody depression. He started talking about the weather at one point. 'Like a fine spring day in England. A nice breeze. Quiet pleasant.' Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a BBC football commentator was reduced to that.
At half-time the BBC dug out a recent, rather good, Football Focus interview with Noel Gallagher to wake the viewers up. Then, we got a rather decent bit of reportage from the fan park in Johannesberg. Then, it was back to the lack of action in Rustenburg. To be fair, as Hansen noted, New Zealand were actually playing quite decently given their world ranking and the players at their disposal. Slovakia on the other hand, had been a huge disappointment and there was the confident prediction that they couldn't, possibly, play any worse. And, as it happened, they couldn't. A - possibly offside - Robert Vittek scoring early in the second-half. Keown chose this moment for a rather pathetic whinge about his own working conditions. 'We're in the studio at seven, we don't get to bed till gone midnight.' Well, if it's such a chore, you simean-featured horrorshow, quit and come home. I'm sure there's thousands of other not-particularly talented ex-professionals who'd be delighted to do the job instead.
Ultimately, New Zealand worked hard and tried their best but had nothing up front. Proof that a lot of effort can get you to a World Cup, but won't keep you there. And then, Winston Reid went and scored in the last minute and threw the form book right out of the window! Football. Funny old game, eh?!
Goals: 20
Red CARDS 4
New Zealand Lambs v Slovakia (without a cheque to its name)
'It's going to be an epic' said Gary Lineker, his voice dripping in irony. Talking about the teams New Zealand played to qualify Gary mentioned Vanatau, New Caledonia and Fiji before adding, 'I'm sure one of those is a volcano.'
New Zealand actually have two national anthems, the lucky so and sos. There's 'God save The Queen' and, the one they played here, 'God Defend New Zealand.' So, no country for old atheists, then? The Maori anthem, persumably, is 'God Save Us From New Zealanders'? 'Lightning flashes over the Tara, the tunder pounds wildly,' begins the Slovakian anthem, positively. 'Let them pause, brothers, they will surely disappear, the Slovaks will revive.' Nice imagery.
It took ten minutes before Simon Brotherton came up with 'who says there's no romance left in the World Cup?' the final cliche taboo, I reckon. 'What an awful passage of play that was between the two teams,' noted Brotherton after half-an-hour. He was talked about a thirty second period during which both gave the ball away but three times each, but it was actually a pretty accurate descritpion of the first half. Mind you, to poor chap had Martin Keown sitting next to him, that's enough to give anybody depression. He started talking about the weather at one point. 'Like a fine spring day in England. A nice breeze. Quiet pleasant.' Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a BBC football commentator was reduced to that.
At half-time the BBC dug out a recent, rather good, Football Focus interview with Noel Gallagher to wake the viewers up. Then, we got a rather decent bit of reportage from the fan park in Johannesberg. Then, it was back to the lack of action in Rustenburg. To be fair, as Hansen noted, New Zealand were actually playing quite decently given their world ranking and the players at their disposal. Slovakia on the other hand, had been a huge disappointment and there was the confident prediction that they couldn't, possibly, play any worse. And, as it happened, they couldn't. A - possibly offside - Robert Vittek scoring early in the second-half. Keown chose this moment for a rather pathetic whinge about his own working conditions. 'We're in the studio at seven, we don't get to bed till gone midnight.' Well, if it's such a chore, you simean-featured horrorshow, quit and come home. I'm sure there's thousands of other not-particularly talented ex-professionals who'd be delighted to do the job instead.
Ultimately, New Zealand worked hard and tried their best but had nothing up front. Proof that a lot of effort can get you to a World Cup, but won't keep you there. And then, Winston Reid went and scored in the last minute and threw the form book right out of the window! Football. Funny old game, eh?!
Goals: 20
Red CARDS 4
Forza Azzurri v Some Para-Guys
There's not many games of international football than can make me tear myself away from a very entertaining Twenty/20 game at Durham over on Sky. Actually, that's a lie, yes there are. But when one of the teams is the Azzurri that makes the pain somewhat less. Gary Lineker kicked off the BBC's night noting that recent Italian success has usually followed 'corruption, negativeity and pessimism.' Should that be all Italian success has followed those things (and, in some cases, including those things)? He then introduced the panel (Hansen, Dixon and Seedorf - fast emerging as the BBC's bright new star) as 'nearly as old as the Italian team.' He went on to scotch the rumour that the Azzurri had held a minute's silence when they heard Last of the Summer Wine was finishing and ended a thoroughly entertaining little New Faces-style stand-up routine by noting that Paraguay's star player is usually their keeper, with specific reference to José Luis Chilavert who, of course, scored eight international goals. 'That's one more than Heskey.' Ba-doom, tish. Thank you and goodnight Gary. He's here all week.
A stirring rendition of Il Canto degli Italiani followed. 'Let us band together/we are ready to die/Italy has called us/ ... and we're playing five at the back using the offside trap, as usual.' Paraguayos, República o Muerte on the other hand speaks of the three centuries of oppression that the peoples of America suffered. Mercifully, this only lasts for seven verses. So, considerably less than three centuries. It just feels like it.
Oh, Christ almight, Jonathan Pearce and bloody Mick McCarthy again! Have the BBC no pity?! The game, well, it was all going completely to pla for forty minutes - 0-0, a result that, you imagine, both teams would've been delighted with. The Eyeties had Rino Gattuso sharpening his scythe on the bench and, with a chance of a counter-attack always a possibility, it was starting to look very predictable. Then, Paraguay had a free-kick forty five yards out on the right, Aureliano Torres curled it goalwards amd Antolin Alacaraz got up above Fabio Cannavaro and Daniel de Rossi and thumped a header into the corner of the net. That woke everybody up. Except, interestingly, the Italians, who carried on for the rest of the half playing as though of a one-nil dfeat actually wasn't that a bad result. Although, their body language suggested one or two of them were losing their temper with each other. Never a good thing, either for the Azzurri or any poor hapless sods they happen to be playing. The Italians, as a consequence, sent for Di Natale and Camoranesi and prepared for war. From a corner, De Rossi equalised. After that, it was all Italy, with some nice cut-away shots of Paraguayans in the crowd praying. But no further goals.
Goals: 18
Red Cards: 4
There's not many games of international football than can make me tear myself away from a very entertaining Twenty/20 game at Durham over on Sky. Actually, that's a lie, yes there are. But when one of the teams is the Azzurri that makes the pain somewhat less. Gary Lineker kicked off the BBC's night noting that recent Italian success has usually followed 'corruption, negativeity and pessimism.' Should that be all Italian success has followed those things (and, in some cases, including those things)? He then introduced the panel (Hansen, Dixon and Seedorf - fast emerging as the BBC's bright new star) as 'nearly as old as the Italian team.' He went on to scotch the rumour that the Azzurri had held a minute's silence when they heard Last of the Summer Wine was finishing and ended a thoroughly entertaining little New Faces-style stand-up routine by noting that Paraguay's star player is usually their keeper, with specific reference to José Luis Chilavert who, of course, scored eight international goals. 'That's one more than Heskey.' Ba-doom, tish. Thank you and goodnight Gary. He's here all week.
A stirring rendition of Il Canto degli Italiani followed. 'Let us band together/we are ready to die/Italy has called us/ ... and we're playing five at the back using the offside trap, as usual.' Paraguayos, República o Muerte on the other hand speaks of the three centuries of oppression that the peoples of America suffered. Mercifully, this only lasts for seven verses. So, considerably less than three centuries. It just feels like it.
Oh, Christ almight, Jonathan Pearce and bloody Mick McCarthy again! Have the BBC no pity?! The game, well, it was all going completely to pla for forty minutes - 0-0, a result that, you imagine, both teams would've been delighted with. The Eyeties had Rino Gattuso sharpening his scythe on the bench and, with a chance of a counter-attack always a possibility, it was starting to look very predictable. Then, Paraguay had a free-kick forty five yards out on the right, Aureliano Torres curled it goalwards amd Antolin Alacaraz got up above Fabio Cannavaro and Daniel de Rossi and thumped a header into the corner of the net. That woke everybody up. Except, interestingly, the Italians, who carried on for the rest of the half playing as though of a one-nil dfeat actually wasn't that a bad result. Although, their body language suggested one or two of them were losing their temper with each other. Never a good thing, either for the Azzurri or any poor hapless sods they happen to be playing. The Italians, as a consequence, sent for Di Natale and Camoranesi and prepared for war. From a corner, De Rossi equalised. After that, it was all Italy, with some nice cut-away shots of Paraguayans in the crowd praying. But no further goals.
Goals: 18
Red Cards: 4
The Boys from Brazil v Pyongyang p'tang Kipperbang
ITV, inevitably, did their fully expected tongue-rimming intro for Brazil - all references to 1970. And 1982 which Gareth Soutgate claimed was his 'first memory of the World Cup' - I feel young.
Chiles - whose turn it was, it would seem, to wear ITV's lone pink shirt - told us it was a 'parky old night,' which was understood by all of three people in ITV HQ. The rest were probably wondering 'how much are we paying this chap?' At the stadium, of course, it took Tyldesley less than thirty seconds to mention North Korea's 'appalling human rights record,' no doubt to some sage nodding of heads in Islington. Because, of course, Brazil's military dictatorship which governed that country between the early sixties and the late seventies (you know, when they were winning World Cups) were all a bunch of ****cats, weren't they? For God's sake, ITV stay away of political comment, you're bloody crap at it!
Then we got a long conversation about how cold it was and ... not much action on the pitch. 'It's no walk-over for Brazil,' Tyldesley told us, as though that was the biggest surprise in world football since Billy McCracken invented the offside trap. And the Koreans harried, and snapped at Brazilians heels and were first to every fifty-fifty (and most sixty-forty) balls and, generally, gave the impression of being really rather unimpressed with a bunch of blokes in yellow shirts living on - it could be argued - past reputations. And, the longer in went on, the more you sensed Dunga's men were getting rather pissed off with this fiasco. I, on the other hand, was getting rather pissed off with Tyldesley's deliberate over-pronunciation of 'Kaka.'
Inevitably, after about an hour of faffing around, Brazil eventually scored. Quite a good goal it looked, too, on first viewing, Maicon appearing to swerve one in from a narrow angle. Actually, after about four replays it was pretty clear it had been a cross-gone-wrong, which sort of summed up the game thus far. But, still, the atmosphere felt as flat as an open can of lager after three days in the fridge. Luis Fabulous missed a glorious chance to make it 2-0 before Elano finally did quarter of an hour from time. Floodgates? No. Quite the opposite in fact and in the last few minutes, The International Communist Conspiracy scored their first World Cup finals goal since Goddison Park in 1966. It wasn't enough to cause a surprise but it was, perhaps, on Day Five, the first point at which this World Cup's icy exterior began to melt a touch. Even in a world of sponsorship by corporate multinational greed, football can occasionally surprise, it would seem.
Goals: 23
Red Cards: 4
ITV, inevitably, did their fully expected tongue-rimming intro for Brazil - all references to 1970. And 1982 which Gareth Soutgate claimed was his 'first memory of the World Cup' - I feel young.
Chiles - whose turn it was, it would seem, to wear ITV's lone pink shirt - told us it was a 'parky old night,' which was understood by all of three people in ITV HQ. The rest were probably wondering 'how much are we paying this chap?' At the stadium, of course, it took Tyldesley less than thirty seconds to mention North Korea's 'appalling human rights record,' no doubt to some sage nodding of heads in Islington. Because, of course, Brazil's military dictatorship which governed that country between the early sixties and the late seventies (you know, when they were winning World Cups) were all a bunch of ****cats, weren't they? For God's sake, ITV stay away of political comment, you're bloody crap at it!
Then we got a long conversation about how cold it was and ... not much action on the pitch. 'It's no walk-over for Brazil,' Tyldesley told us, as though that was the biggest surprise in world football since Billy McCracken invented the offside trap. And the Koreans harried, and snapped at Brazilians heels and were first to every fifty-fifty (and most sixty-forty) balls and, generally, gave the impression of being really rather unimpressed with a bunch of blokes in yellow shirts living on - it could be argued - past reputations. And, the longer in went on, the more you sensed Dunga's men were getting rather pissed off with this fiasco. I, on the other hand, was getting rather pissed off with Tyldesley's deliberate over-pronunciation of 'Kaka.'
Inevitably, after about an hour of faffing around, Brazil eventually scored. Quite a good goal it looked, too, on first viewing, Maicon appearing to swerve one in from a narrow angle. Actually, after about four replays it was pretty clear it had been a cross-gone-wrong, which sort of summed up the game thus far. But, still, the atmosphere felt as flat as an open can of lager after three days in the fridge. Luis Fabulous missed a glorious chance to make it 2-0 before Elano finally did quarter of an hour from time. Floodgates? No. Quite the opposite in fact and in the last few minutes, The International Communist Conspiracy scored their first World Cup finals goal since Goddison Park in 1966. It wasn't enough to cause a surprise but it was, perhaps, on Day Five, the first point at which this World Cup's icy exterior began to melt a touch. Even in a world of sponsorship by corporate multinational greed, football can occasionally surprise, it would seem.
Goals: 23
Red Cards: 4
Blue Spanish Eyes v The Swiss Misses
On the BBC, Gary Lineker set the ball rolling for this one with a perfectly weighted hospital pass. 'Howard Webb. Alan, you're a big fan, aren't you?' Ice promptly formed on the upper reaches of Mount Shearer. So, we reached the thirty first and thirty second teams in the World Cup. One, the perpetual underachievers of world football who, in the last two years, finally appear to have got their shat together and started playing like we always knew they were capable of. The other, Switzerland. As in Switzerland vs Ukraine in 2006. As in, Oh God! Not Switzerland Again?!
Jonathan Pearce pulled out every Spanish cliche you can think of short of 'ole!' in his introduction. ('March of the Toreodors', El Dorado' etc. etc.) Spain's national anthem is, of course, famously, an instrumental. The 'Albatros' of anthems, if you like. Switzerland's anthem does not, contrary to common belief, mentions cows, goats, chocolate or cuckoo clocks (which are, actually, German anyway). Oh, ninety minutes of Switzerland and Mick McCarthy. There. Is. No. God. As it happens, the first half was pretty much a non-event. Spain were, of course, beautiful in possession - as has been noted elsewhere, they're not invincible, they do have some flaws at the back but, for anybody to exploit them, first you've got to get the ball off them. And that's often the really tricky part. But, for all their swagger and poise Switzerland stood big and tall and strong and essentially stopped them from playing. They're good at that. As those of us who sat through the game against Ukraine will, frankly, never forget. In fact, the highlight of the half for me was being amused by Pearce's inability to pronounce 'Senderos' the same way twice in succession.
The BBC did their best to big it all up at half-time, Seedorf taking aobut movement off the ball and Shearer reminding everyone that it only takes a second's lapse of concentration and, like a shark, they'll bite you in two. It was worth turning in for the start of the second-half to hear McCarthy using the phrase 'kung-fu kicking.' Those cats were fast as ... stuff.
Of course, the one thing that one was absolutely certain of was that Switzerland wouldn't score. Switzerland promptly scored! Gelson Fernandes poking one in after a scramble in the area. Remember, it only takes a second's lapse of concentration and, like a shark, they'll bite you in two. Spain were clearly rattled. They brought on Torres and Jesus. You know a team's in trouble when they turn to The Lord for a bit of saving. And, you know, quality crosses. Alonso hit the bar but, at the other end, the Swiss were giving it some an'all and big, awkward, gangly, Derdiyok hit the post on one of their - quite regular - counter-attacks. As McCarthy noted, they'd defended deep, pressed the ball and were fit, strong and hard-working. 'They're not as good players as Spain so they've got to find other ways of winning. If they try to play football against them, they'll get beat.' It's ironic, when we got a match of stonewalling defence, it actually brought out the almost lyrical and poetic in Mick McCarthy. Almost.
Five minutes of injury time, Howard Webb clearly believing he was officiating at Old Trafford. it was desperate stuff. There were lots of half-changes and some niggly fouls and a Swiss head on every Spanish ball into the box. Switzerland held firm. Like their banks. There'll be dancing in the vaults of Geneva tonight. And the lonely goatherds will be nervous.
Goals: 25
Red Cards: 4
On the BBC, Gary Lineker set the ball rolling for this one with a perfectly weighted hospital pass. 'Howard Webb. Alan, you're a big fan, aren't you?' Ice promptly formed on the upper reaches of Mount Shearer. So, we reached the thirty first and thirty second teams in the World Cup. One, the perpetual underachievers of world football who, in the last two years, finally appear to have got their shat together and started playing like we always knew they were capable of. The other, Switzerland. As in Switzerland vs Ukraine in 2006. As in, Oh God! Not Switzerland Again?!
Jonathan Pearce pulled out every Spanish cliche you can think of short of 'ole!' in his introduction. ('March of the Toreodors', El Dorado' etc. etc.) Spain's national anthem is, of course, famously, an instrumental. The 'Albatros' of anthems, if you like. Switzerland's anthem does not, contrary to common belief, mentions cows, goats, chocolate or cuckoo clocks (which are, actually, German anyway). Oh, ninety minutes of Switzerland and Mick McCarthy. There. Is. No. God. As it happens, the first half was pretty much a non-event. Spain were, of course, beautiful in possession - as has been noted elsewhere, they're not invincible, they do have some flaws at the back but, for anybody to exploit them, first you've got to get the ball off them. And that's often the really tricky part. But, for all their swagger and poise Switzerland stood big and tall and strong and essentially stopped them from playing. They're good at that. As those of us who sat through the game against Ukraine will, frankly, never forget. In fact, the highlight of the half for me was being amused by Pearce's inability to pronounce 'Senderos' the same way twice in succession.
The BBC did their best to big it all up at half-time, Seedorf taking aobut movement off the ball and Shearer reminding everyone that it only takes a second's lapse of concentration and, like a shark, they'll bite you in two. It was worth turning in for the start of the second-half to hear McCarthy using the phrase 'kung-fu kicking.' Those cats were fast as ... stuff.
Of course, the one thing that one was absolutely certain of was that Switzerland wouldn't score. Switzerland promptly scored! Gelson Fernandes poking one in after a scramble in the area. Remember, it only takes a second's lapse of concentration and, like a shark, they'll bite you in two. Spain were clearly rattled. They brought on Torres and Jesus. You know a team's in trouble when they turn to The Lord for a bit of saving. And, you know, quality crosses. Alonso hit the bar but, at the other end, the Swiss were giving it some an'all and big, awkward, gangly, Derdiyok hit the post on one of their - quite regular - counter-attacks. As McCarthy noted, they'd defended deep, pressed the ball and were fit, strong and hard-working. 'They're not as good players as Spain so they've got to find other ways of winning. If they try to play football against them, they'll get beat.' It's ironic, when we got a match of stonewalling defence, it actually brought out the almost lyrical and poetic in Mick McCarthy. Almost.
Five minutes of injury time, Howard Webb clearly believing he was officiating at Old Trafford. it was desperate stuff. There were lots of half-changes and some niggly fouls and a Swiss head on every Spanish ball into the box. Switzerland held firm. Like their banks. There'll be dancing in the vaults of Geneva tonight. And the lonely goatherds will be nervous.
Goals: 25
Red Cards: 4
Soud Afreeekka v U-Are-Guys
The Rainbow Nation versus the least colourful team in world football. This should be ... grey.
Taking place, of course on a significant date - the anniversary of Sowato - gave the match a potential weight of polemic that, one felt, could have been counteproductive. But, I have to say Garth Crooks did a - really rather decent - piece on the history and, cutting back to the studio, a stony-face Gary Lineker noted that, not that many years ago the BBC's panel for this game (including Emmanuel Adebayor) 'would not have been allowed in this country.' See, this is the necessary difference between the BBC and ITV. When the BBC do this sort of thing, it has some gravitas, some depth. Some dignity. When ITV do it, it ends up trivialised, patronised and followed by Andy Townsend.
South Africa opened brightly, though a long-range shot from Tshabaladingdong that sailed over the bar was described as 'a bit Hollywood' by Mark Lawrenson. Then, Uruguay came, belatedly, to life with a most unuruguayan-style performed full of skill, pace and passion. Where'd that come from? Diego Forlan scored to shut the crowd up with a deflected shot from distance. Thereafter, he was the best player on the park by a distance for much of the rest of the match. Lawrence again: 'Forlan's running this game. He could play in his slippers, nobody's getting anywhere near him.' The second-half continued with a kind of tedious predictability, broken only with South Africa brought on a substitute. That was a Surprise. I can wait. Then, with ten minutes left, Khune fouled Luis Suarez in the box and the referee gave the penalty and sent the keeper off. Both, seemingly, correct decisions. Forlan dispatched the spot kick with a kind of disdain tha, if only momentarily, shut up the vuvuzelas. Which was both novel and welcome. And so, the careful built house-of-cards of South African's feel-good start to the tournament - and how great it was for the future of all mankind - was blown down in seconds and reality kicked the nation, hard, in the Jacob's Cream Crackers. We got TV shots of locals streaming out of the stadium muttering to themselves, the fickle public speaking, both loudly and clearly. Failure, is not an option. Football is not a matter of horns and drums. It's much more important than that. In injury time, Forlan and Suarez combined to set up Alvaro Pereira for the third. Uruguay, the Millwall of international football. No one likes them, but they don't care!
Goals: 28
Red Cards: 5
The Rainbow Nation versus the least colourful team in world football. This should be ... grey.
Taking place, of course on a significant date - the anniversary of Sowato - gave the match a potential weight of polemic that, one felt, could have been counteproductive. But, I have to say Garth Crooks did a - really rather decent - piece on the history and, cutting back to the studio, a stony-face Gary Lineker noted that, not that many years ago the BBC's panel for this game (including Emmanuel Adebayor) 'would not have been allowed in this country.' See, this is the necessary difference between the BBC and ITV. When the BBC do this sort of thing, it has some gravitas, some depth. Some dignity. When ITV do it, it ends up trivialised, patronised and followed by Andy Townsend.
South Africa opened brightly, though a long-range shot from Tshabaladingdong that sailed over the bar was described as 'a bit Hollywood' by Mark Lawrenson. Then, Uruguay came, belatedly, to life with a most unuruguayan-style performed full of skill, pace and passion. Where'd that come from? Diego Forlan scored to shut the crowd up with a deflected shot from distance. Thereafter, he was the best player on the park by a distance for much of the rest of the match. Lawrence again: 'Forlan's running this game. He could play in his slippers, nobody's getting anywhere near him.' The second-half continued with a kind of tedious predictability, broken only with South Africa brought on a substitute. That was a Surprise. I can wait. Then, with ten minutes left, Khune fouled Luis Suarez in the box and the referee gave the penalty and sent the keeper off. Both, seemingly, correct decisions. Forlan dispatched the spot kick with a kind of disdain tha, if only momentarily, shut up the vuvuzelas. Which was both novel and welcome. And so, the careful built house-of-cards of South African's feel-good start to the tournament - and how great it was for the future of all mankind - was blown down in seconds and reality kicked the nation, hard, in the Jacob's Cream Crackers. We got TV shots of locals streaming out of the stadium muttering to themselves, the fickle public speaking, both loudly and clearly. Failure, is not an option. Football is not a matter of horns and drums. It's much more important than that. In injury time, Forlan and Suarez combined to set up Alvaro Pereira for the third. Uruguay, the Millwall of international football. No one likes them, but they don't care!
Goals: 28
Red Cards: 5
Don't Cry For Me Marge & Tina v Careful in Korea.
As noted, travelling and shopping caused me to miss his first significant chunk of the World Cup so far. Which, was a pity as, by the little bit I caught of it, the first-half of this game looked rather excellent. The Bargies scored twice early on through a Park Chu-Young own-goal and a second from Higuain. They looked, frankly, just as good as they looked against Serbia and Montenegro four years ago in their second match - like exiled Gods, descended to walk the Earth. Really ugly (though, talented) exiled Gods in the case of Tevez, but still ... And then, as you kind of suspected they might, they switched off for a few minutes just before the break and Korea, completely against the run of play, pulled one back (though Lee Chung-Yong) after the Argentine defence went into slapstick comedy mode.
Gutierrez got a yellow card for a bit of outrageous stroppiness (and will, therefore, miss Argentina's next match). Macherano got one for something of a shin-crusher and, as the Argentine passes went to waste, Yeom Ki-Hun missed a golden opportunity to put the Tigers back on level terms after a fine four-man move.But, you always sensed Argentina had another gear (or two, or three) to go up and, ten minutes from the end Higuain got his second and his country's third with a tap-in after Messi had hit the post. And, two minutes later, he completed his hat-trick. Just before the end Jim Beglin did a very significant little riff on how Argentina are beautiful going forward but aren't, perhaps, the best defenders in the world and that, somewhere, wait for them is a test yet to come. (When the highlights were shown on the BBC later, Hansen and Dixon picked up on the same vibe.) And, it has to be asked, is this another case - as with that Serbia game four years ago - of one team capitulating and making the other one look just that inch or two more brilliant than they actually are?
Slowly I Turned, Nigeria Falls v Grecian 2010
You could just tell how seriously the BBC were taking this one. They gave Lineker the half-day off and replaced him with Colin Murray. There was a look on Adebayor's face that seemed to ask 'who the Hell is this bloke? And, what is he talking about?' I don't know whether it's just that we've already have seventeen games - and a lot of them really haven't been very good - that caused a singular lack of interest in the opening exchanges of this one. All that changed, of course, when Kalu Uche scored after fifteen minutes with free-kick from distance that, somehow, the Greek keeper managed to dive out of the way of. Thereafter, it was all Nigeria - clever passing, good movement off the ball. They looked good, they were in control. And Greece looked, frankly, like a rabble. There were arguing among themselves even before the goal but, after it, Socrates and Plato couldn't have debated this lot towards unity. If there was one thing that was certain, it was that Nigeria were coasting. Then, inexplicably, Sanu Kaita disputed a throw-in with Vassilis Torosidis and, for some reason, kicked out at his opponent. He didn't connect all that hard, to be fair but, of course, Torosidis made the most of it and went down like a sack of ****. The referee, Oscar Ruiz, had no choice but to send Kiata off. After that, of course, it was all Greece, with Otto Rehhagel sending on big Giorgos Samaras in place of midfielder Socratis Papastathopoulos the man with,undoubtedly, the Greekest name in the history of Greece. The only way he could be any more Greek would be if he opened a Kebab shop in Stoke Newington. Only the - very impressive - Nigerian keeper, Vincent Enyeama, thwarted them (well, him and a goal-line clearance from Lukman). But, he could do nothing about the equaliser a minute before half-time, Salpingidis' shot deflecting off a defender giving poor Vincent no chance. That livened things up and led to something of a spirited half-time discussion between Dixon and Hansen. About something.
Greece started the second-half like they meant it but they were caught on the break at one point and Obasi missed an absolute sitter. Big hard Martin Keown, meanwhile, was whinging again - this time about how cold it is at nights ('I had to have a continental quilt on') Ah, poor lamb. Then, we had Vincent's first mistake, just seconds after he'd made another brilliant save, spilling a shot from distance straight to the feet of Torosidis, who scored. A moment of madness had, perhaps, ultimately doomed Nigeria to an early exit. Always beware of Greeks healing rifts.
Lost In France v Mexican Waves
The BBC introduced a new panellist tonight, Roy Hodgson. Unsurprisingly, because he's a very good manager, he talked an awful lot of sense in that kind of laid-back minimalist style of his. Although, twice, he did seem to think France were playing Algeria. No, Roy, that's the english, tomorrow. Then we got possibly the most soulless version of 'La Marseilles' I think I've ever heard. It set the ton for what followed. It sounded not unlike a recording of the Beatles circa 1966, full of sound and fury signifying nothing.
Steve Wilson was impressed by the Mexican supporters. 'How nice to hear singing instead of ... blaring!' I was pretty impressed with the Mexican team, personally, and so was Steve. Mark Bright, on the other hand, wasn't impressed by anything expect the verbals that dribbled on and on from his own ringpiece. Oh God, it was trite and monotone and utterly, utterly worthless in any way shape or form. Unlike the match itself, which was really rather good. Wilson further compared William Gallas to a new-born Gazelle which was a novel, if slightly bizarre, image. By half-time, Mr Hodgson had, seemingly, sorted out who was actually playing and made some very good points. Mexico were bright, neat and quick on the break but didn't have much cutting edge up-front. Shearer noted that if they could sort that out, the match was there for the taking. France, on the other hand, were a hundred times better than they'd been against Uruguay. But still a thousand times short of anything even approaching 'good.' In fact, they looked like a disjointed shower. And they looked worse in the second half, all sulky 'pah' and no 'va-va-voom.' Then, Hernandez beat a rubbishy attempt to play offside and put Mexico into the lead. The goalscorer and his young striker partner, Dos Santos, were in fact the best players on the pitch whilst, as Wilson noted, 'the longer the game has gone on, the worse France have got.' It promptly got even worse for them, Abidal bringing down Barrera and old man Blanco scoring from the resulting penalty. Send for Harry Grout. Domenech looked for all the world like a man waiting to be led to the guillotine. Couldn't, possibly, happened to a nicer team. The World Cup, ladies and gentlemen, everybody smiles when the French get beat.
Goals: 38
Red Cards: 6
As noted, travelling and shopping caused me to miss his first significant chunk of the World Cup so far. Which, was a pity as, by the little bit I caught of it, the first-half of this game looked rather excellent. The Bargies scored twice early on through a Park Chu-Young own-goal and a second from Higuain. They looked, frankly, just as good as they looked against Serbia and Montenegro four years ago in their second match - like exiled Gods, descended to walk the Earth. Really ugly (though, talented) exiled Gods in the case of Tevez, but still ... And then, as you kind of suspected they might, they switched off for a few minutes just before the break and Korea, completely against the run of play, pulled one back (though Lee Chung-Yong) after the Argentine defence went into slapstick comedy mode.
Gutierrez got a yellow card for a bit of outrageous stroppiness (and will, therefore, miss Argentina's next match). Macherano got one for something of a shin-crusher and, as the Argentine passes went to waste, Yeom Ki-Hun missed a golden opportunity to put the Tigers back on level terms after a fine four-man move.But, you always sensed Argentina had another gear (or two, or three) to go up and, ten minutes from the end Higuain got his second and his country's third with a tap-in after Messi had hit the post. And, two minutes later, he completed his hat-trick. Just before the end Jim Beglin did a very significant little riff on how Argentina are beautiful going forward but aren't, perhaps, the best defenders in the world and that, somewhere, wait for them is a test yet to come. (When the highlights were shown on the BBC later, Hansen and Dixon picked up on the same vibe.) And, it has to be asked, is this another case - as with that Serbia game four years ago - of one team capitulating and making the other one look just that inch or two more brilliant than they actually are?
Slowly I Turned, Nigeria Falls v Grecian 2010
You could just tell how seriously the BBC were taking this one. They gave Lineker the half-day off and replaced him with Colin Murray. There was a look on Adebayor's face that seemed to ask 'who the Hell is this bloke? And, what is he talking about?' I don't know whether it's just that we've already have seventeen games - and a lot of them really haven't been very good - that caused a singular lack of interest in the opening exchanges of this one. All that changed, of course, when Kalu Uche scored after fifteen minutes with free-kick from distance that, somehow, the Greek keeper managed to dive out of the way of. Thereafter, it was all Nigeria - clever passing, good movement off the ball. They looked good, they were in control. And Greece looked, frankly, like a rabble. There were arguing among themselves even before the goal but, after it, Socrates and Plato couldn't have debated this lot towards unity. If there was one thing that was certain, it was that Nigeria were coasting. Then, inexplicably, Sanu Kaita disputed a throw-in with Vassilis Torosidis and, for some reason, kicked out at his opponent. He didn't connect all that hard, to be fair but, of course, Torosidis made the most of it and went down like a sack of ****. The referee, Oscar Ruiz, had no choice but to send Kiata off. After that, of course, it was all Greece, with Otto Rehhagel sending on big Giorgos Samaras in place of midfielder Socratis Papastathopoulos the man with,undoubtedly, the Greekest name in the history of Greece. The only way he could be any more Greek would be if he opened a Kebab shop in Stoke Newington. Only the - very impressive - Nigerian keeper, Vincent Enyeama, thwarted them (well, him and a goal-line clearance from Lukman). But, he could do nothing about the equaliser a minute before half-time, Salpingidis' shot deflecting off a defender giving poor Vincent no chance. That livened things up and led to something of a spirited half-time discussion between Dixon and Hansen. About something.
Greece started the second-half like they meant it but they were caught on the break at one point and Obasi missed an absolute sitter. Big hard Martin Keown, meanwhile, was whinging again - this time about how cold it is at nights ('I had to have a continental quilt on') Ah, poor lamb. Then, we had Vincent's first mistake, just seconds after he'd made another brilliant save, spilling a shot from distance straight to the feet of Torosidis, who scored. A moment of madness had, perhaps, ultimately doomed Nigeria to an early exit. Always beware of Greeks healing rifts.
Lost In France v Mexican Waves
The BBC introduced a new panellist tonight, Roy Hodgson. Unsurprisingly, because he's a very good manager, he talked an awful lot of sense in that kind of laid-back minimalist style of his. Although, twice, he did seem to think France were playing Algeria. No, Roy, that's the english, tomorrow. Then we got possibly the most soulless version of 'La Marseilles' I think I've ever heard. It set the ton for what followed. It sounded not unlike a recording of the Beatles circa 1966, full of sound and fury signifying nothing.
Steve Wilson was impressed by the Mexican supporters. 'How nice to hear singing instead of ... blaring!' I was pretty impressed with the Mexican team, personally, and so was Steve. Mark Bright, on the other hand, wasn't impressed by anything expect the verbals that dribbled on and on from his own ringpiece. Oh God, it was trite and monotone and utterly, utterly worthless in any way shape or form. Unlike the match itself, which was really rather good. Wilson further compared William Gallas to a new-born Gazelle which was a novel, if slightly bizarre, image. By half-time, Mr Hodgson had, seemingly, sorted out who was actually playing and made some very good points. Mexico were bright, neat and quick on the break but didn't have much cutting edge up-front. Shearer noted that if they could sort that out, the match was there for the taking. France, on the other hand, were a hundred times better than they'd been against Uruguay. But still a thousand times short of anything even approaching 'good.' In fact, they looked like a disjointed shower. And they looked worse in the second half, all sulky 'pah' and no 'va-va-voom.' Then, Hernandez beat a rubbishy attempt to play offside and put Mexico into the lead. The goalscorer and his young striker partner, Dos Santos, were in fact the best players on the pitch whilst, as Wilson noted, 'the longer the game has gone on, the worse France have got.' It promptly got even worse for them, Abidal bringing down Barrera and old man Blanco scoring from the resulting penalty. Send for Harry Grout. Domenech looked for all the world like a man waiting to be led to the guillotine. Couldn't, possibly, happened to a nicer team. The World Cup, ladies and gentlemen, everybody smiles when the French get beat.
Goals: 38
Red Cards: 6
Day 8:
German Bite v Part Of The Former Yugoslavia (The Nasty Part)
The BBC's coverage this afternoon began with a little graphic that, basically, showed Gary Lineker's World Cup goal record was CONSIDERABLY better than Shearer's! When we got back at half-time it was noticeable that Gazza appeared to have elbowed in the face in a off-the-camera incident. But, finally, the World Cup is starting to come to life. Danny Baker summed it up beatufiully on last night's Match of the Day. 'It's mad, it makes no sense.' Over on Sky, Shaun Custis and Henry Winter - two of my favourite football journalists - were noting that three days ago it was being called the worst World Cup in history and then, two good days, plenty of goals and a couple of surprises and, suddenly, it's up there with the best of them.
And so to this one. Hmmm ... a nation with a history full of genocidal, xenophobic, sick fasicst dickheads ...
Versus Germany.
I was really torn on this one. Even more torn when discovering that my least favourite commentary team in the whole wide world - Jonathan Pearce and Mick McCarthy were doing it. Pearce nailed his colours to the flag noting that there are 'again, too many empty seats.' Well, what did you do with all your 'family and friends complimentaries' then Jonathan. Surely you could've found some Dutch girls to take 'em off your hands, no questions asked.
The game was quite lively but much of the attention went onto a rather fussy, card happy Spanish ref, Alberto Undiano. Not ridiculously so, not like that Russian when the Netherlands played Portugal four years ago but it did move Pearce to say, early on, 'I'll be really surprised if this game ends with twenty two players on the pitch.' That's always a problem for a referee, if you start dishing out cards early on for relatively minor offences, in an attempt to stamp your authority on the game, you've got to go on in the same mode all match. And that's gonna lead to trouble. And, of course, it did. Klose got a second yellow for a rather innocuous foul on Dejan Stankovic (having got his first one for virtually nothing) and was off the pitch. Chaos. The Germans went mental - it was like Stalingrad. Almost immediately, the serbs went up the other end, Krasic crossed, Nikola Zigic knocked it down and Milan Jovanovic was all alone to turn the ball into the German net from close range. Germany were in big trouble now. yet, the nearly scored three times in the next two minutes, Schweinsteiger pulled up for a foul on the keeper when in a dangerous position (McCarthy was almost incandescent with rage, noting 'the keeper's being a Big Tart there.' Can you actualyl say that on the BBC at quarter past one in the afternoon? Mesut Ozil's cross was punched away by Stojkovic - but only as far as Sami Khedira, who slammed a shot against the bar and the rebound was scrambled off the line. At half-time Shearer continued the 'outraged of Woolingston' theme: 'We have got a really fussy referee who has ruined the game for Germany. The red card completely changed the face of the match and Group D is wide open if this score stays the same.'
He then elbowed Lee Dixon in the face. And the whole country cheered!
The second half started with a torrent of German pressure and, you felt Germany might well get back into this, because Serbia looked very shaky at the back and one couldn't believe that the Germans would keep on missing chances. Then they got a penalty, Vidic stupidly handling in the box when under no pressure. And Podolski missed it! (or rather, Stojkovic saved it, but it was a poor penalty.) I mean that was a shcok in an of itself. When was the last time you can remember a German missing a penalty in a major tournament? Uli Stielike in 1982, I think! But, still, the Serbians had something coming forward, Jovanovic hitting the post with a curling shot. And their defence recovered its bottle and stopped being glakes and doing stupid things like giving needless penalities away. This was Ze Chermans' first defeat in a World Cup group game since 1986. And there was much rejoicing in England. The Netherlands. France. Belgium. Denmark. In fact, virtually all of Europe. America. Mirconesia. Palau. The Pitcairns ...
Goals: 39
Red Cards: 7
German Bite v Part Of The Former Yugoslavia (The Nasty Part)
The BBC's coverage this afternoon began with a little graphic that, basically, showed Gary Lineker's World Cup goal record was CONSIDERABLY better than Shearer's! When we got back at half-time it was noticeable that Gazza appeared to have elbowed in the face in a off-the-camera incident. But, finally, the World Cup is starting to come to life. Danny Baker summed it up beatufiully on last night's Match of the Day. 'It's mad, it makes no sense.' Over on Sky, Shaun Custis and Henry Winter - two of my favourite football journalists - were noting that three days ago it was being called the worst World Cup in history and then, two good days, plenty of goals and a couple of surprises and, suddenly, it's up there with the best of them.
And so to this one. Hmmm ... a nation with a history full of genocidal, xenophobic, sick fasicst dickheads ...
Versus Germany.
I was really torn on this one. Even more torn when discovering that my least favourite commentary team in the whole wide world - Jonathan Pearce and Mick McCarthy were doing it. Pearce nailed his colours to the flag noting that there are 'again, too many empty seats.' Well, what did you do with all your 'family and friends complimentaries' then Jonathan. Surely you could've found some Dutch girls to take 'em off your hands, no questions asked.
The game was quite lively but much of the attention went onto a rather fussy, card happy Spanish ref, Alberto Undiano. Not ridiculously so, not like that Russian when the Netherlands played Portugal four years ago but it did move Pearce to say, early on, 'I'll be really surprised if this game ends with twenty two players on the pitch.' That's always a problem for a referee, if you start dishing out cards early on for relatively minor offences, in an attempt to stamp your authority on the game, you've got to go on in the same mode all match. And that's gonna lead to trouble. And, of course, it did. Klose got a second yellow for a rather innocuous foul on Dejan Stankovic (having got his first one for virtually nothing) and was off the pitch. Chaos. The Germans went mental - it was like Stalingrad. Almost immediately, the serbs went up the other end, Krasic crossed, Nikola Zigic knocked it down and Milan Jovanovic was all alone to turn the ball into the German net from close range. Germany were in big trouble now. yet, the nearly scored three times in the next two minutes, Schweinsteiger pulled up for a foul on the keeper when in a dangerous position (McCarthy was almost incandescent with rage, noting 'the keeper's being a Big Tart there.' Can you actualyl say that on the BBC at quarter past one in the afternoon? Mesut Ozil's cross was punched away by Stojkovic - but only as far as Sami Khedira, who slammed a shot against the bar and the rebound was scrambled off the line. At half-time Shearer continued the 'outraged of Woolingston' theme: 'We have got a really fussy referee who has ruined the game for Germany. The red card completely changed the face of the match and Group D is wide open if this score stays the same.'
He then elbowed Lee Dixon in the face. And the whole country cheered!
The second half started with a torrent of German pressure and, you felt Germany might well get back into this, because Serbia looked very shaky at the back and one couldn't believe that the Germans would keep on missing chances. Then they got a penalty, Vidic stupidly handling in the box when under no pressure. And Podolski missed it! (or rather, Stojkovic saved it, but it was a poor penalty.) I mean that was a shcok in an of itself. When was the last time you can remember a German missing a penalty in a major tournament? Uli Stielike in 1982, I think! But, still, the Serbians had something coming forward, Jovanovic hitting the post with a curling shot. And their defence recovered its bottle and stopped being glakes and doing stupid things like giving needless penalities away. This was Ze Chermans' first defeat in a World Cup group game since 1986. And there was much rejoicing in England. The Netherlands. France. Belgium. Denmark. In fact, virtually all of Europe. America. Mirconesia. Palau. The Pitcairns ...
Goals: 39
Red Cards: 7
Amerikkka v Slovenia
Several Elvises (or should that be Elvi?) in the crowd singing 'The Star Spangled Banner.' Oh hell, it must be the Americans. Either that, or I'm on very hard drugs. Yeah, it is America because, after less that thirty seconds, Clint Eastwood (or someone) elbowed Ljubijankic in the face. Oi! There's a North Tyneside copywrite on that sort of thing, pal. Anyway, we got an interesting camera angle from above the pitch which appeared to show that the centre circle had been marked out a bit wonky. You want some top-quality goals scored from miles outside the box? Then have some of this. Slovenia's decent start became a sensational one as Valter Birsa collected the ball twenty five yards out in space and curled a gorgeous left-foot shot into the corner of Tim Howard's net. The Everton keeper didn't even move. 'I always thought there was a look of Hannibal Lecter about Bob Bradley,' noted Steve Wilson completely out of left-field. Not sure if Martin Keown actually understood the reference, he merely grunted in reply.
The Americans then had a great spell where they probably could have scored two or three. But, they didn't and football can be a really cruel game. Just as USA start to think they were getting back into it, Slovenia went up the other end and doubled their lead. Ljubijankic finishing it by coolly slotting in after Milivoje Novakovic's perfectly-timed pass. The Malian referee, Koman Coulibaly, had a good start to the game but, just as commentators were complimenting him on letting the game flow, he went and spoiled it by booking Robbie Findley for handball when the ball riccocheted off his face and brush his hand on the way down. Easily, the single worst bit of referereing in the tournament so far and way worse than anything the much criticised Spaniard did in the previous game. And worse was to follow.
At half-time, Hansen, in his really nice blue shirt, bigged-up the Yankie boys whilst Roy Hodgson was, again, very precise and smart in his critique. His pronunciation of the word 'Americans', however, was hilarious. Roy, trust me, what you're saying is the name for a pubic wig.
Almost as soon as the second-half kicked-off, Donovan got the USA back into the game, the Slovenina goalkeeper shamefully flinching - actual proper flinching, an'all, mind - as Donovan shot at him from a narrow angle. After that it was pretty much all America against a strong, hard-working, give-no-quarter Slovan back-line. It took until the eighty first minute before Michael Bradley got on the end of a knock-down to equalise. There was a disallowed goal after that and lots of blood and thunder and rockets red flares and all that malarkey. Replays shown there was little, if anything wrong with the one that was disallowed. Keown whinged, about stuff generally and the referee in particular. Slovenia broke neatly but Tim Howard saved well, twice. It was all proper cracking stuff. The game ended almost exactly as it began, with a Slovan rolling around on the floor, clutching his face. Is it really just a couple of days ago that we were all sitting aroudn saying 'hasn't been much cop so far'?!
Goals: 43
Red Cards: 7
Several Elvises (or should that be Elvi?) in the crowd singing 'The Star Spangled Banner.' Oh hell, it must be the Americans. Either that, or I'm on very hard drugs. Yeah, it is America because, after less that thirty seconds, Clint Eastwood (or someone) elbowed Ljubijankic in the face. Oi! There's a North Tyneside copywrite on that sort of thing, pal. Anyway, we got an interesting camera angle from above the pitch which appeared to show that the centre circle had been marked out a bit wonky. You want some top-quality goals scored from miles outside the box? Then have some of this. Slovenia's decent start became a sensational one as Valter Birsa collected the ball twenty five yards out in space and curled a gorgeous left-foot shot into the corner of Tim Howard's net. The Everton keeper didn't even move. 'I always thought there was a look of Hannibal Lecter about Bob Bradley,' noted Steve Wilson completely out of left-field. Not sure if Martin Keown actually understood the reference, he merely grunted in reply.
The Americans then had a great spell where they probably could have scored two or three. But, they didn't and football can be a really cruel game. Just as USA start to think they were getting back into it, Slovenia went up the other end and doubled their lead. Ljubijankic finishing it by coolly slotting in after Milivoje Novakovic's perfectly-timed pass. The Malian referee, Koman Coulibaly, had a good start to the game but, just as commentators were complimenting him on letting the game flow, he went and spoiled it by booking Robbie Findley for handball when the ball riccocheted off his face and brush his hand on the way down. Easily, the single worst bit of referereing in the tournament so far and way worse than anything the much criticised Spaniard did in the previous game. And worse was to follow.
At half-time, Hansen, in his really nice blue shirt, bigged-up the Yankie boys whilst Roy Hodgson was, again, very precise and smart in his critique. His pronunciation of the word 'Americans', however, was hilarious. Roy, trust me, what you're saying is the name for a pubic wig.
Almost as soon as the second-half kicked-off, Donovan got the USA back into the game, the Slovenina goalkeeper shamefully flinching - actual proper flinching, an'all, mind - as Donovan shot at him from a narrow angle. After that it was pretty much all America against a strong, hard-working, give-no-quarter Slovan back-line. It took until the eighty first minute before Michael Bradley got on the end of a knock-down to equalise. There was a disallowed goal after that and lots of blood and thunder and rockets red flares and all that malarkey. Replays shown there was little, if anything wrong with the one that was disallowed. Keown whinged, about stuff generally and the referee in particular. Slovenia broke neatly but Tim Howard saved well, twice. It was all proper cracking stuff. The game ended almost exactly as it began, with a Slovan rolling around on the floor, clutching his face. Is it really just a couple of days ago that we were all sitting aroudn saying 'hasn't been much cop so far'?!
Goals: 43
Red Cards: 7
The Best Kept Village In Europe v Algeria
Missed most of the build up to this as I'd been invited to a barbeque. I should have stayed there really. The first half was, quite possibly, the single worst forty-five minutes of the tournament so far. Algeria were all right to be fair - first to every fifty-fifty ball, neat, energetic. They didn't seem to have much threat up front but they had their moments. England, on the other hand, were as bad as they've ever been on the many occasions they've been in a position like this in the past. ITV's commentary team - Tyldesley and Townsend - used a few words to describe the performance; edgy, nervous, uninspired, bland, ponderous. They missed out the most obvious one - piss-poor. 'Horrible,' said Chiles. 'Where is the team from qualification?' Keegan suggested half the team were carrying injuries. Southgate called it 'disappointing.' The rest of the world must hate it when England is the main feature match of a night. 'Oh God, not England?! Is their anything on the other side?'
One sensed that England couldn't, possibly, play that badly again in the second half. They didn't. They were worse. Everything aobut the performance was full of wrong tunrs. Every choice they made seemed to be the wrong one, whether it was heskey tripping over his own feet unable to decide whether to shoot or cross, Gerrard seemingly unable to run with the ball without losing control of it, Rooney coming deep when he should have been staying up and visa versa. Every pass seemed to be overhit, hardly a single ball to feet was trapped but rather allowed to bounce off. It was scrappy and predictable and very unlovely to watch. And the longer it went on the more the players seemed to be feeling sorry for themselves, as though the whole thing was some sort of conspiracy against them rather than, you know, their fault. In what seemed like an act of desperately with eight minutes left, Capello took off Barry (probably England's best player, although that really isn't saying much) and brought on Crouch. When Lampard tried an ambitious shot from thirty yards a couple of minutes from the end and almost hit the corner flag, the first boos started. Not a single one undeserved.
Goals: 43
Red Cards: 7
Missed most of the build up to this as I'd been invited to a barbeque. I should have stayed there really. The first half was, quite possibly, the single worst forty-five minutes of the tournament so far. Algeria were all right to be fair - first to every fifty-fifty ball, neat, energetic. They didn't seem to have much threat up front but they had their moments. England, on the other hand, were as bad as they've ever been on the many occasions they've been in a position like this in the past. ITV's commentary team - Tyldesley and Townsend - used a few words to describe the performance; edgy, nervous, uninspired, bland, ponderous. They missed out the most obvious one - piss-poor. 'Horrible,' said Chiles. 'Where is the team from qualification?' Keegan suggested half the team were carrying injuries. Southgate called it 'disappointing.' The rest of the world must hate it when England is the main feature match of a night. 'Oh God, not England?! Is their anything on the other side?'
One sensed that England couldn't, possibly, play that badly again in the second half. They didn't. They were worse. Everything aobut the performance was full of wrong tunrs. Every choice they made seemed to be the wrong one, whether it was heskey tripping over his own feet unable to decide whether to shoot or cross, Gerrard seemingly unable to run with the ball without losing control of it, Rooney coming deep when he should have been staying up and visa versa. Every pass seemed to be overhit, hardly a single ball to feet was trapped but rather allowed to bounce off. It was scrappy and predictable and very unlovely to watch. And the longer it went on the more the players seemed to be feeling sorry for themselves, as though the whole thing was some sort of conspiracy against them rather than, you know, their fault. In what seemed like an act of desperately with eight minutes left, Capello took off Barry (probably England's best player, although that really isn't saying much) and brought on Crouch. When Lampard tried an ambitious shot from thirty yards a couple of minutes from the end and almost hit the corner flag, the first boos started. Not a single one undeserved.
Goals: 43
Red Cards: 7
Nice going Grav,
Been off for a while & the tournyment (c Big Ron) has taken a turn to the eccentric as you said
Couple of things
To me its clear the accent on the modern game is more & more on defensive tactics & athleticism
Remember Bobby Robson said one time, in mitigation of a 1-1 with Saudi Arabia (In The Name Of Allah, Go!), there are no easy games in international football
Well the whole world has progressed from that. It seems every one wants to copy the Inter/Chelsea/ManUtd Mourinho model. The one that preaches dropping the likes of Joe Cole for hefty midfield runners, pressuring teams in their half so that chances on goal can be created without that awful nonsense about building from the back, passing the ball etc
When you get 2 teams with this philosophy you end up with some of the dross in S.Af
Tho, admittedly one could not but cheer on the Swiss the other night & the DPR Koreans
Its been anarchic, but it does make sense I think
Take Serbia. They went 4-4-2 v Ghana & didnt really look like scoring, then went 4-5-1 v ze chermans & hey preston mr ref decides he likes the modern cut of their jib
Some of the teams who have impressed like the Mexicans, Koreans, Chileans, most of the Africans have been largely impervious to this Mourinho ethos
Unfortunately I doubt these will be getting too far in the knockout stages
Pity the hosts look booked for an early exit. Roared with happiness at that first goal but seems Parreira was too open in the Uruguay game, allowing CJ de Muy lookalike Forlan too much space.
As for dear old Ingerlund, well I have thought for years the term world class banded about for the likes of Frankie, Stevie G & Wazza was plainly ridiculous in 2 of their cases & premature for the latter
If u ever catch the RTE boys discussing champs lge games on youtube you'd hear their negative opinions on the suggested world class ability of english players, I couldnt agree more
Still, I do fear they will get out the group.
Don Fabio is sure to see sense & pick Joe Cole & Peter Crouch who has a rep 2nd to none at battering in goals v the likes of Slovenia
As for Mr Wayne Rodney, he needs to grow up. His snarling bullying attitude is somehow accepted in the epl
On this stage he's a bit part actor
Been off for a while & the tournyment (c Big Ron) has taken a turn to the eccentric as you said
Couple of things
To me its clear the accent on the modern game is more & more on defensive tactics & athleticism
Remember Bobby Robson said one time, in mitigation of a 1-1 with Saudi Arabia (In The Name Of Allah, Go!), there are no easy games in international football
Well the whole world has progressed from that. It seems every one wants to copy the Inter/Chelsea/ManUtd Mourinho model. The one that preaches dropping the likes of Joe Cole for hefty midfield runners, pressuring teams in their half so that chances on goal can be created without that awful nonsense about building from the back, passing the ball etc
When you get 2 teams with this philosophy you end up with some of the dross in S.Af
Tho, admittedly one could not but cheer on the Swiss the other night & the DPR Koreans
Its been anarchic, but it does make sense I think
Take Serbia. They went 4-4-2 v Ghana & didnt really look like scoring, then went 4-5-1 v ze chermans & hey preston mr ref decides he likes the modern cut of their jib
Some of the teams who have impressed like the Mexicans, Koreans, Chileans, most of the Africans have been largely impervious to this Mourinho ethos
Unfortunately I doubt these will be getting too far in the knockout stages
Pity the hosts look booked for an early exit. Roared with happiness at that first goal but seems Parreira was too open in the Uruguay game, allowing CJ de Muy lookalike Forlan too much space.
As for dear old Ingerlund, well I have thought for years the term world class banded about for the likes of Frankie, Stevie G & Wazza was plainly ridiculous in 2 of their cases & premature for the latter
If u ever catch the RTE boys discussing champs lge games on youtube you'd hear their negative opinions on the suggested world class ability of english players, I couldnt agree more
Still, I do fear they will get out the group.
Don Fabio is sure to see sense & pick Joe Cole & Peter Crouch who has a rep 2nd to none at battering in goals v the likes of Slovenia
As for Mr Wayne Rodney, he needs to grow up. His snarling bullying attitude is somehow accepted in the epl
On this stage he's a bit part actor
The other thing I wanted to say was about the TV coverage
The other day the Beeb, who once again seem to be winning the TV battle hands down, sent A.Shearer into some townships for a report on how the world cup is affecting the ordinary people of the country
At first sight, an odd choice, the millionaire ex footballer for this job
But fly me if he didnt carry it off with a mix of quiet dignity, humour, professionalism & the common touch.
No judgements made, he simply asked & listened.
In stark contrast it must be said to the pro-journos, the cates/daglish, walkers, boultings et al who turn to the locals in their grisly fillers for a one word answer before summarising in the manner of a tv kids presenter
Good work mr s
The other day the Beeb, who once again seem to be winning the TV battle hands down, sent A.Shearer into some townships for a report on how the world cup is affecting the ordinary people of the country
At first sight, an odd choice, the millionaire ex footballer for this job
But fly me if he didnt carry it off with a mix of quiet dignity, humour, professionalism & the common touch.
No judgements made, he simply asked & listened.
In stark contrast it must be said to the pro-journos, the cates/daglish, walkers, boultings et al who turn to the locals in their grisly fillers for a one word answer before summarising in the manner of a tv kids presenter
Good work mr s
The Clockwork Oranj v The Plastic Ono Band
If anything, the first-half of this was even worse than the first-half of England's match. Barely a shot from either side. You could tell the Dutch were starting to get really narked by the lack of creativity they were able to get going. ITV fussed and fretted at half-time but Edgar Davids seemed calm and composed and, sure enough, the Dutch couldn't possibly play that badly again in the second half. And, unlike England, they did get better with Wesley Sneijder scoring a beauty, albeit with a bit of help from the Japanese keeper. In the end, the Dutch should have had at least two more - the substitutes Afellay and Huntelaar both missing good chances to make the game safe. They're still not firing on all cylinders yet and, to be honest, it wouldn't be unfair to suggest that they've been that much better than England, for example, in their two games. Yet the Oranj have six point and are the second team near enough confirmed as being through to the next round. They still don't look a well balanced side and they're clearly missing Robben. Van der Vaart seems wasted out wide and when he cuts in he and Sneijder occupy, essentially, the same space. But two wins, three goals, none conceded and without much effort. They're now unbeaten in twenty one consecutive matches.
Could this be the year of the Oranj?
Black Stars v Socceroos
The game started with yet another goalkeeping calamity, Kingson spilling Bresciano's right-foot shot into the path of Brett Holman, who scored from close-range. And, for the next fifteen minutes, Australia completely bossed the game. Ghana couldn't string two passes together and Mark Bright was just about writing their obituary when a cross from the right found Jonathan Mensah and his goalbound shot hit Harry Kewell on the line. It seems to hit a combination of his chest and right arm but Italian referee Roberto Rosetti pointed to the spot and showed Kewell a straight red card. (To be fair, different camera angles suggested different thigns with at least one appearing to show the decision in a much better light than others.) Asamoah Gyan step up and confidently slots home the penalty. Thereafter, if it hadn't been for Mark Schwarzer the game would have been all over by half-time. Although, ironically, his best save of the lot ended up as a goal kick after both referee and linesman failed to spot him getting a clear touch on a Kevin-Prince Boateng shot. Second half substitutions (Chipperfield and the very impressive Kennedy) improved Australia's shape and, suddenly, with quarter of an hour to go, you genuinely couldn't tell which team had the ten men and which the eleven. Almost in spite of itself, a very unpromising game had ended up as an end-to-end classic. There were thrills, spills, blood (Pantsil getting an - accidental - face full of Kennedy) and, sadly, now more goals. Good one that, though.
Goals: 46
Red Cards: 8
If anything, the first-half of this was even worse than the first-half of England's match. Barely a shot from either side. You could tell the Dutch were starting to get really narked by the lack of creativity they were able to get going. ITV fussed and fretted at half-time but Edgar Davids seemed calm and composed and, sure enough, the Dutch couldn't possibly play that badly again in the second half. And, unlike England, they did get better with Wesley Sneijder scoring a beauty, albeit with a bit of help from the Japanese keeper. In the end, the Dutch should have had at least two more - the substitutes Afellay and Huntelaar both missing good chances to make the game safe. They're still not firing on all cylinders yet and, to be honest, it wouldn't be unfair to suggest that they've been that much better than England, for example, in their two games. Yet the Oranj have six point and are the second team near enough confirmed as being through to the next round. They still don't look a well balanced side and they're clearly missing Robben. Van der Vaart seems wasted out wide and when he cuts in he and Sneijder occupy, essentially, the same space. But two wins, three goals, none conceded and without much effort. They're now unbeaten in twenty one consecutive matches.
Could this be the year of the Oranj?
Black Stars v Socceroos
The game started with yet another goalkeeping calamity, Kingson spilling Bresciano's right-foot shot into the path of Brett Holman, who scored from close-range. And, for the next fifteen minutes, Australia completely bossed the game. Ghana couldn't string two passes together and Mark Bright was just about writing their obituary when a cross from the right found Jonathan Mensah and his goalbound shot hit Harry Kewell on the line. It seems to hit a combination of his chest and right arm but Italian referee Roberto Rosetti pointed to the spot and showed Kewell a straight red card. (To be fair, different camera angles suggested different thigns with at least one appearing to show the decision in a much better light than others.) Asamoah Gyan step up and confidently slots home the penalty. Thereafter, if it hadn't been for Mark Schwarzer the game would have been all over by half-time. Although, ironically, his best save of the lot ended up as a goal kick after both referee and linesman failed to spot him getting a clear touch on a Kevin-Prince Boateng shot. Second half substitutions (Chipperfield and the very impressive Kennedy) improved Australia's shape and, suddenly, with quarter of an hour to go, you genuinely couldn't tell which team had the ten men and which the eleven. Almost in spite of itself, a very unpromising game had ended up as an end-to-end classic. There were thrills, spills, blood (Pantsil getting an - accidental - face full of Kennedy) and, sadly, now more goals. Good one that, though.
Goals: 46
Red Cards: 8
Macarooons v Lurpack
Missed most of the first half - with so much football its going to happen at some point. Looked like quite a good game but I had half-a-dozen other things on the go at the time and we were well into the second half before I could really give it much attention, by which time it was 1-1. Eto'o and Bendtner socred, respectively, if anyone's taking notes. Though, if you are, get a life. Or a world cup wallchart, at least. What I saw of the second half, however, was tremendous, two teams really going for it. A ball out to the right for Denmark saw Dennis Rommedahl on the run and his pace was too much for Jean Makoun to handle - he let the winger run past him in the box and from eight yards Rommedahl bent a left-foot shot around Hamidou Souleymanou and into the corner. 'That is a little hint of Danish dynamite' orated Peter Drury. A bit flowery, maybe, but it was a fine goal. 'What a good game this is,' he noted after Tomasson at one end and webo at the other both had good chances save by the respective keepers (Sorenson's, in particular, was breathtaking). After that it was cut and thrust, the 'roonies playing some lovely football but Denmark hitting them with pace on the break. It seemed unfair after a performances like this that Cameroon should be the first country to be mathematically eliminated from the 2010 World Cup but football can be a harsh and cruel mistress. 'As Saturday nights go, this was one of the better ones,' noted Jim Belgin at the end. Not for Cameroon, pal!
Goals: 49
Red Cards: 8
Missed most of the first half - with so much football its going to happen at some point. Looked like quite a good game but I had half-a-dozen other things on the go at the time and we were well into the second half before I could really give it much attention, by which time it was 1-1. Eto'o and Bendtner socred, respectively, if anyone's taking notes. Though, if you are, get a life. Or a world cup wallchart, at least. What I saw of the second half, however, was tremendous, two teams really going for it. A ball out to the right for Denmark saw Dennis Rommedahl on the run and his pace was too much for Jean Makoun to handle - he let the winger run past him in the box and from eight yards Rommedahl bent a left-foot shot around Hamidou Souleymanou and into the corner. 'That is a little hint of Danish dynamite' orated Peter Drury. A bit flowery, maybe, but it was a fine goal. 'What a good game this is,' he noted after Tomasson at one end and webo at the other both had good chances save by the respective keepers (Sorenson's, in particular, was breathtaking). After that it was cut and thrust, the 'roonies playing some lovely football but Denmark hitting them with pace on the break. It seemed unfair after a performances like this that Cameroon should be the first country to be mathematically eliminated from the 2010 World Cup but football can be a harsh and cruel mistress. 'As Saturday nights go, this was one of the better ones,' noted Jim Belgin at the end. Not for Cameroon, pal!
Goals: 49
Red Cards: 8
Keep it up Grav
Think the spain honduras game brings us to half way
Some random tv stuff
Chiles is terrible in his wanchor (ho ho) role on ITV
Clearly ott during the ingerlund games, his croatian
heritage you'd think would give him some sense of perspective
He & Dixon always looked good on beeb2 as an antidote to the lineker/hansen-FA-Cup-final-86 double act.
Tho Its Dixon who appears the lennon to the baggie's mccartney now, as the former arsnl right back has a seat with the big boys on MOTD & doesnt look out of place. Far from it Hansen seems to have picked up his lazy game off the golf range now he sees some competition in the 'bad defending' department
I did read in Private Eye a few years ago that such was Chiles impact doing the highlights show in the 2006 World Cup there was serious consideration given to the order of the boot for Mr lineker
Apparently that came to nowt with the watertight nature of the crisp salesman's contract so AC was given the ghastly 'one show' as some sort of compo
Obviously too good for the pensioners/students financial advice show by then
Of course he ended up as Burton to the fragrant miss Bleakley's Taylor (Crikey does that make Frankie = larry fortensky?).
That episode must have made Mr line-acre's extra marital carry-ons rather sedate in the eyes of the mandarins at the beeb so off Chiles popped to ITV displacing the popular Steve Rider
(Popular in my eyes, anyway, a bloody nice bloke who gave me his autograph many moons ago)
Anyway the moral of the story is the Beeb is doing v nicely indeed without old 'Voodoo' Chiles thank u v much.
Especially judging on the way highlights replacement Colin 'Diego Milito' Murray has slipped into the role
HIs dealings with Aussie snake-oil salesman Craig Johnston on saturday showed he has a rare wit
And I have a feeling that come early wednesday evening a statesman-like Sir Garrence lynam-ker will be broadcasting the news to a joyful nation of an impending 2nd round clash with the dear old cousins from Germany
& for that we shall all be thankful
AMen
Think the spain honduras game brings us to half way
Some random tv stuff
Chiles is terrible in his wanchor (ho ho) role on ITV
Clearly ott during the ingerlund games, his croatian
heritage you'd think would give him some sense of perspective
He & Dixon always looked good on beeb2 as an antidote to the lineker/hansen-FA-Cup-final-86 double act.
Tho Its Dixon who appears the lennon to the baggie's mccartney now, as the former arsnl right back has a seat with the big boys on MOTD & doesnt look out of place. Far from it Hansen seems to have picked up his lazy game off the golf range now he sees some competition in the 'bad defending' department
I did read in Private Eye a few years ago that such was Chiles impact doing the highlights show in the 2006 World Cup there was serious consideration given to the order of the boot for Mr lineker
Apparently that came to nowt with the watertight nature of the crisp salesman's contract so AC was given the ghastly 'one show' as some sort of compo
Obviously too good for the pensioners/students financial advice show by then
Of course he ended up as Burton to the fragrant miss Bleakley's Taylor (Crikey does that make Frankie = larry fortensky?).
That episode must have made Mr line-acre's extra marital carry-ons rather sedate in the eyes of the mandarins at the beeb so off Chiles popped to ITV displacing the popular Steve Rider
(Popular in my eyes, anyway, a bloody nice bloke who gave me his autograph many moons ago)
Anyway the moral of the story is the Beeb is doing v nicely indeed without old 'Voodoo' Chiles thank u v much.
Especially judging on the way highlights replacement Colin 'Diego Milito' Murray has slipped into the role
HIs dealings with Aussie snake-oil salesman Craig Johnston on saturday showed he has a rare wit
And I have a feeling that come early wednesday evening a statesman-like Sir Garrence lynam-ker will be broadcasting the news to a joyful nation of an impending 2nd round clash with the dear old cousins from Germany
& for that we shall all be thankful
AMen
The adverts
Oh what joy
3 offending articles leap to mind
McDonalds - with monsieur Graham Taylor narrating some hideous doggerel about 'passers-by'
Youd think GT would run the proverbial country mile every time a major international football came around, but no there he was on radio 5 the friday night wondering what kind of training his beloved national team got up to as prep for these big games
Well enough training to at least get them there, should clearly be the response from whatever Pougatch-a-like was presenting with old foot-in-mouth turnip
Carling
Those 5 blokes in the desert, search me how they got there.
Presumably by 'walking' off that desert island where we'd seen them last
If you've followed this, ahem, series then like me u r chronically anally retentive & utterly bemused
ANyway. From a previous advert we've learnt that our 5 heroes are at least a week away from civilisation and one of their number seems to be bringing them supplies curtesy of a camel. lord only knows what was in those canteens
One can only guess at what was once known as 'Black label' would go down about as well as a crocodile in a lucky dip after being transported up the arris of a sweaty 'ship of the desert' but this abysmal ad continues undaunted
This time it Seems johnny has been despatched ahmed ajtebi style for the world cup scores & in a twist, is sent back for the mythic 'Belgium' score
Seeing as this is Betfari we can only surmise that one of our intrepid adventurers has succombed to some 999/1 quite possibly under the influence of his favourite 4% p155 flavoured lah-gah
Still, i understand some 7lb female claimer won the 520 at redcar today at those very odds, so stranger things have..
3
No idea what this advert is for but it contains the likes of Dame Ellen Macarthur, Sir Clive Woodward, Sir Botham. Dunno what title Ranulph Fiennes has but it ought to be master of the universe, fly me is that a bare chested Jeff Stelling? There's Nigel Benn shadow boxing his way into Frank 'Dunno wot I mean Arry' Bruno's mental health institute, Filthy Phil Taylor chucking some darts like a demented hoolie from the bad old day of the 80s. Some n0b from Kasabian.
This just reminds me of a scene in the film 'My Cousin VInny'
On the eve of a trial Joe Pesci goes into one of his psychotic rants which were all the rage in the early 90s
He lists all the things weighing on his mind from the judge, the evidence or lack therof, the fragrant marisa tomei's ticking biological clock.
'Could we stack anything else onto this sh1tpile?' he asks
Can Ingerlund pile any more expectation upon the shoulders of that hapless bunch under Don Fabio?
I mean that Ad is just so OTT I'm surprised they havent dug up the skeletons of lord Nelson, The Duk of Wellington, lord Kichener, Field Marshall Montgomery etc
Just what will this achieve?
Seems to me with ads like this the Mondiale is all but in Englands hands already.
The unsaid implication is that its just up to a bunch of overpaid millionaires not to fluck up a simple mission down in S. Africa
Just show a bit of good old english pride & the rest of the world will fall at our feet like that vicious native woman with the sharpened mango at mboto gorge
As If
You know, in the shoes of Cashley Cole, JT, Stevie G, Frankie l with their private lives in serious disarray, lumped together with a bunch of people they probably distrust for 11 months of the year, this business must be a serious pain in the backside.
For better or worse none of them are going to lose their jobs if they get dumped out by slovenia
Yes they're overpaid but no they are not the best footballers in the world
And no amount of mealy mouthed harking back to the days of Sir Bobby (who was treated abysmally as manager I recall) are going to change that
Oh what joy
3 offending articles leap to mind
McDonalds - with monsieur Graham Taylor narrating some hideous doggerel about 'passers-by'
Youd think GT would run the proverbial country mile every time a major international football came around, but no there he was on radio 5 the friday night wondering what kind of training his beloved national team got up to as prep for these big games
Well enough training to at least get them there, should clearly be the response from whatever Pougatch-a-like was presenting with old foot-in-mouth turnip
Carling
Those 5 blokes in the desert, search me how they got there.
Presumably by 'walking' off that desert island where we'd seen them last
If you've followed this, ahem, series then like me u r chronically anally retentive & utterly bemused
ANyway. From a previous advert we've learnt that our 5 heroes are at least a week away from civilisation and one of their number seems to be bringing them supplies curtesy of a camel. lord only knows what was in those canteens
One can only guess at what was once known as 'Black label' would go down about as well as a crocodile in a lucky dip after being transported up the arris of a sweaty 'ship of the desert' but this abysmal ad continues undaunted
This time it Seems johnny has been despatched ahmed ajtebi style for the world cup scores & in a twist, is sent back for the mythic 'Belgium' score
Seeing as this is Betfari we can only surmise that one of our intrepid adventurers has succombed to some 999/1 quite possibly under the influence of his favourite 4% p155 flavoured lah-gah
Still, i understand some 7lb female claimer won the 520 at redcar today at those very odds, so stranger things have..
3
No idea what this advert is for but it contains the likes of Dame Ellen Macarthur, Sir Clive Woodward, Sir Botham. Dunno what title Ranulph Fiennes has but it ought to be master of the universe, fly me is that a bare chested Jeff Stelling? There's Nigel Benn shadow boxing his way into Frank 'Dunno wot I mean Arry' Bruno's mental health institute, Filthy Phil Taylor chucking some darts like a demented hoolie from the bad old day of the 80s. Some n0b from Kasabian.
This just reminds me of a scene in the film 'My Cousin VInny'
On the eve of a trial Joe Pesci goes into one of his psychotic rants which were all the rage in the early 90s
He lists all the things weighing on his mind from the judge, the evidence or lack therof, the fragrant marisa tomei's ticking biological clock.
'Could we stack anything else onto this sh1tpile?' he asks
Can Ingerlund pile any more expectation upon the shoulders of that hapless bunch under Don Fabio?
I mean that Ad is just so OTT I'm surprised they havent dug up the skeletons of lord Nelson, The Duk of Wellington, lord Kichener, Field Marshall Montgomery etc
Just what will this achieve?
Seems to me with ads like this the Mondiale is all but in Englands hands already.
The unsaid implication is that its just up to a bunch of overpaid millionaires not to fluck up a simple mission down in S. Africa
Just show a bit of good old english pride & the rest of the world will fall at our feet like that vicious native woman with the sharpened mango at mboto gorge
As If
You know, in the shoes of Cashley Cole, JT, Stevie G, Frankie l with their private lives in serious disarray, lumped together with a bunch of people they probably distrust for 11 months of the year, this business must be a serious pain in the backside.
For better or worse none of them are going to lose their jobs if they get dumped out by slovenia
Yes they're overpaid but no they are not the best footballers in the world
And no amount of mealy mouthed harking back to the days of Sir Bobby (who was treated abysmally as manager I recall) are going to change that
4
James Corden
Is it just me or is this bloke turning into ITV's walking talking Jonah-in-the-whale style mascot?
That TV show of his is absolutely rancid, its unwatchable
He has one of the 1966 heroes every time & they barely get to speak. Treated like an elderly grandparent at xmas.
I do admit to watching the Chris Evans show many years ago in my 20s so clearly I aint the right demographic now
Even so I think I'm right in saying it hits the wrong tone in typical ITV low rent style
You'd think after the no shows from the national team the atmos would be somewhat subdued, but no there he goes bigging it up, larging it etc.
Not an england fan but if I were & caught someone purporting to be running a world cup show in this manner I'd be tempted into doing an Elvis - putting me boot thru the screen
Dont think Corden realises what a n0b he looks
And then there's all this business with him fooling around with the squad, in their periods, extensive no doubt, of leisure
Harmless enough but it smacks ever so much of the Eriksson regime
In the end its all about Corden making himself look good, the look at me with Rio & Wayne syndrome
I did read a couple of years ago about RTE sending a comedian off with the boys of Ballydoyle as they went off to California for the Breeders Cup
The guy was an utter p3nis by all accounts getting himself in the way, making inappropriate comments & jokes. End result unsurprisingly was 0 wins for Ireland
Should England go out in the groups then I fancy MR Corden will be guilty by association, maybe even seen as a cause rather than a side affect
James Corden
Is it just me or is this bloke turning into ITV's walking talking Jonah-in-the-whale style mascot?
That TV show of his is absolutely rancid, its unwatchable
He has one of the 1966 heroes every time & they barely get to speak. Treated like an elderly grandparent at xmas.
I do admit to watching the Chris Evans show many years ago in my 20s so clearly I aint the right demographic now
Even so I think I'm right in saying it hits the wrong tone in typical ITV low rent style
You'd think after the no shows from the national team the atmos would be somewhat subdued, but no there he goes bigging it up, larging it etc.
Not an england fan but if I were & caught someone purporting to be running a world cup show in this manner I'd be tempted into doing an Elvis - putting me boot thru the screen
Dont think Corden realises what a n0b he looks
And then there's all this business with him fooling around with the squad, in their periods, extensive no doubt, of leisure
Harmless enough but it smacks ever so much of the Eriksson regime
In the end its all about Corden making himself look good, the look at me with Rio & Wayne syndrome
I did read a couple of years ago about RTE sending a comedian off with the boys of Ballydoyle as they went off to California for the Breeders Cup
The guy was an utter p3nis by all accounts getting himself in the way, making inappropriate comments & jokes. End result unsurprisingly was 0 wins for Ireland
Should England go out in the groups then I fancy MR Corden will be guilty by association, maybe even seen as a cause rather than a side affect
5
Nationwide Advert
the one with lou & andy from little britain
Why Fabio, why?
One can only think its some contractual obligation
Can you imagine the thinking in ad-land behind this abomination, the number of cheese-d1cks sitting around a table saying
'What a good idea it would be to humiliate the manager of the national football team on the eve of his most important tournament'
'Yeah make sure you take the p155 out of his poor english'
'Tell the FA we'll cancel our contract if they dont do this'
the mind boggles
Nationwide Advert
the one with lou & andy from little britain
Why Fabio, why?
One can only think its some contractual obligation
Can you imagine the thinking in ad-land behind this abomination, the number of cheese-d1cks sitting around a table saying
'What a good idea it would be to humiliate the manager of the national football team on the eve of his most important tournament'
'Yeah make sure you take the p155 out of his poor english'
'Tell the FA we'll cancel our contract if they dont do this'
the mind boggles
Them Trios-De-Los Paranoios v Czechless o'Slovakians
Oh my God, Colin Murray is on the ¤¤¤¤ing BBC again. And so is McCarthy. Even when he's not commentating on a match, the bastards STILL have him in the studio - there is literally no escape. I don't pay my licence fee for this!
It looked a really good game, once it got going. In that kind of "I'm-not-really-bothered-who-wins-this-I-just-hope-it's-entertaining" sort of way that you often get around the second group match stage at the World Cup. A bit like the second and third games yesetrday, actually. The Para-guys took an early lead, Lucas Barrios - who was involved in everything they did that was good - slipped the ball into the path of Enrique Vera who burst into the area and done a faultless finish with the outside of his right boot, bending it around Jan Mucha. A superb goal. It was, at least according to Martin Keown, 'a typical South American goal.' I'm not sure exactly what that means? Maybe that it was subjugated by the Spanish and enslaved for centuries? Perhaps we'll never care. Paraguay really deserved their lead and were easily the best team in the first-half. But, thereafter, Slovakia clawed themselves back into the game with some neat passing (and some rugged tackling). They never really threatened, howver and, a couple of minutes from the end, Riveros wrapped the game up for the boys from Asuncion.
Goals: 51
Red Cards: 8
Oh my God, Colin Murray is on the ¤¤¤¤ing BBC again. And so is McCarthy. Even when he's not commentating on a match, the bastards STILL have him in the studio - there is literally no escape. I don't pay my licence fee for this!
It looked a really good game, once it got going. In that kind of "I'm-not-really-bothered-who-wins-this-I-just-hope-it's-entertaining" sort of way that you often get around the second group match stage at the World Cup. A bit like the second and third games yesetrday, actually. The Para-guys took an early lead, Lucas Barrios - who was involved in everything they did that was good - slipped the ball into the path of Enrique Vera who burst into the area and done a faultless finish with the outside of his right boot, bending it around Jan Mucha. A superb goal. It was, at least according to Martin Keown, 'a typical South American goal.' I'm not sure exactly what that means? Maybe that it was subjugated by the Spanish and enslaved for centuries? Perhaps we'll never care. Paraguay really deserved their lead and were easily the best team in the first-half. But, thereafter, Slovakia clawed themselves back into the game with some neat passing (and some rugged tackling). They never really threatened, howver and, a couple of minutes from the end, Riveros wrapped the game up for the boys from Asuncion.
Goals: 51
Red Cards: 8
Italian Stallions v New Zealand Lambs
Having, seemingly, put their collective pink shirt in the wash, ITV instead gave Patrick Viera, one of the world's hardest midfielders, a pink jumper to wear. It was quite nice as well. Having spent the morning watching Sky Sports News inelegant and frankly poisonous attempts stir up further shat in the England camp with a mix of press sources, unconfirmed rumours, wild speculation and Kenny Sansom talking utter bilge it was, actually, a relief to see Adrian Chiles' chubby little smiling face introducing us. 'And first, England...' Thanks Adrain. Can we talk about the Eyeties instead?
'Don't go out and eat Italian tonight if New Zealand get something out of this match, you might find the standard of service somewhat below what you're used to,' said Clive Tyldesley. Well, he's clearly never been to Don Vito's on Pilgrim Street, then. It's always like that. After seven minutes, the chances of exactly that happening took a major leap. Marcello Lippi was said to be worried about set-pieces and we found out why when a free-kick was curled into the Italian box and for some extraordinary reason, former Halifax Town and AFC Wimbledon striker Shane Smeltz was allowed to sneak in and slot past Federico Marchetti from close range. He's was miles offside as well which, actually, made it even funnier. The Italians, for twenty minutes, looked like this was North Korea all over again and they were all just busy working out how they were going to sneak home at some obscure hour of the morning and avoid all the rotten tomatos. They were getting angry and snappy. Then, they seemed to wake up, Montolivo hit the post and, seconds later, de Rossi went down under a rather slight challenge and the referee bought it. The Italians, of course, are probably the only country in the world with a worse record of penalties in World Cups than England, but Iaquinta stpped up and spanked it home. Game on. Half-time was spent in a hilarious discussion about current goings on in the French camp.
The second half was an odd affair. The big New Zealand lads, Rory Fallon in particularly, were putting themselves about a bit and Eyeties did not like it one little bit. After a while they resorted to an old trick of theirs, rolling around on the floor cluthcing their face trying to get players sent off. Chris Coleman went into an impassioned little rant about how 'you don't want to do that. That's conning the referee and it's no way to win.' Well, it's something Italians have been doing for seventy or eighty years, Chris. Very successfully as it happens (four World Cups, you know!) But, the longer it went on the more you thought that New Zealand might just pull this off. Indeed, ten minutes from the end they missed a glorious chance to take the lead (Wood shooting just inches wide). At the back, Ryan Nelson was supurb - they ought to erect a column to him, and was the goalkeeper. You think England have had some lip from their press this World Cup, I imagine tomorrow's Gazzeta might be worth reading!
Goals: 53
Red Cards: 8
Having, seemingly, put their collective pink shirt in the wash, ITV instead gave Patrick Viera, one of the world's hardest midfielders, a pink jumper to wear. It was quite nice as well. Having spent the morning watching Sky Sports News inelegant and frankly poisonous attempts stir up further shat in the England camp with a mix of press sources, unconfirmed rumours, wild speculation and Kenny Sansom talking utter bilge it was, actually, a relief to see Adrian Chiles' chubby little smiling face introducing us. 'And first, England...' Thanks Adrain. Can we talk about the Eyeties instead?
'Don't go out and eat Italian tonight if New Zealand get something out of this match, you might find the standard of service somewhat below what you're used to,' said Clive Tyldesley. Well, he's clearly never been to Don Vito's on Pilgrim Street, then. It's always like that. After seven minutes, the chances of exactly that happening took a major leap. Marcello Lippi was said to be worried about set-pieces and we found out why when a free-kick was curled into the Italian box and for some extraordinary reason, former Halifax Town and AFC Wimbledon striker Shane Smeltz was allowed to sneak in and slot past Federico Marchetti from close range. He's was miles offside as well which, actually, made it even funnier. The Italians, for twenty minutes, looked like this was North Korea all over again and they were all just busy working out how they were going to sneak home at some obscure hour of the morning and avoid all the rotten tomatos. They were getting angry and snappy. Then, they seemed to wake up, Montolivo hit the post and, seconds later, de Rossi went down under a rather slight challenge and the referee bought it. The Italians, of course, are probably the only country in the world with a worse record of penalties in World Cups than England, but Iaquinta stpped up and spanked it home. Game on. Half-time was spent in a hilarious discussion about current goings on in the French camp.
The second half was an odd affair. The big New Zealand lads, Rory Fallon in particularly, were putting themselves about a bit and Eyeties did not like it one little bit. After a while they resorted to an old trick of theirs, rolling around on the floor cluthcing their face trying to get players sent off. Chris Coleman went into an impassioned little rant about how 'you don't want to do that. That's conning the referee and it's no way to win.' Well, it's something Italians have been doing for seventy or eighty years, Chris. Very successfully as it happens (four World Cups, you know!) But, the longer it went on the more you thought that New Zealand might just pull this off. Indeed, ten minutes from the end they missed a glorious chance to take the lead (Wood shooting just inches wide). At the back, Ryan Nelson was supurb - they ought to erect a column to him, and was the goalkeeper. You think England have had some lip from their press this World Cup, I imagine tomorrow's Gazzeta might be worth reading!
Goals: 53
Red Cards: 8
Brazil Nuts v Cote D'Ivoire & Ebonire
This is the one we'd been waiting for - potentially the two best flair sides in the tournament. The BBC lit up the night with a musical montage of Brazil's Greatest Hits and another one about The Advance of Africa. It felt mouth watering. The anticipation of matches like this are why you wait four years for the World Cup to come around. 'Brazil always bring colour and imagination to a World Cup,' noted Mr Lineker. Well, that's just asking for trouble, isn't it? Clarance Seedorf survived an encounter with the deadly killer Garth Crooks and made some very good points: 'Kaka has not had the best season with Real Madrid, of course, and he did not show his best in the first game against North Korea either. But he is working hard and I am sure he can settle into this tournament and come to life at any moment. Ivory Coast will have to keep a check on him because he is such a top player.'
The game started slowly. Very slowly. In fact a highlight of the first ten minutes was a really rather barbed jibe by the normally quite passive Mark Lawrenson about Sepp Blatter. That, and Jonathan Pearce's one man love affair/'but why does he have to be such a cheat?' confusion over Lucio. The Ivory Coast looked good, hunting in packs, good in possession, strong and disciplined. All-in-all they were probably the better team for most of the oepning phase. No final product though and I think it was about a quarter of an hour in before Drogba actually touched the ball. Mind you, the same could be said for Kaka and Luis Fabiano at the other end. Then, after twenty five minutes, the latter scored one the goal of the tournament, a vicious shot from the corner of the box that almost burst the net.
If that was 'one of the best goals of the tournament' then the one he scored early in the second half appeared to be the best, a stunning piece of ball juggling in the area before a clinical finish. Sadly, TV replays showed it was a case of literal juggling as he'd clearly handled it. None of the officials saw it, however and it was 2-0. Then, finally, the Ivories got tickled and woke it. Drogba had a fine chance to pull a goal back but missed it. As if stop contemptuously slap the uppity Afircan back down into the gutter, Brazil promptly went up the other end and scored a third, a beauty by Elano. Meanwhile, Pearce and Lawrenson were having a fascinating discussion about whether people who do the Mexican Wave are 'muppets' or whether Lawrenson is a 'Scrouge.' That'd be 'yes and, err, 'yes.' Elano then just about survived a really nasty shin-breaker of a tackle by Tiote, though he had to go off. By this time the Brazilians had finally turned up to the party with a bottle of rum and a six foot three transvestite dressed like Carman Miranda. Of course, there were inevitable hiccups (you get that with coconut rum). Drogba reduced arrears after a fine move. Kaka got himself booked for a bit of stupid push and shove and then sent off for an elbow in the chest of Keita. Which was obviously a considerable surprise to the African as he went down clutching his face. It all got a bit nasty and spiteful which, to be honest, the game had never been before that. And there were lots of amusing shots of Dunga going mental on the touchline.
Goals: 57
Red Cards: 9
This is the one we'd been waiting for - potentially the two best flair sides in the tournament. The BBC lit up the night with a musical montage of Brazil's Greatest Hits and another one about The Advance of Africa. It felt mouth watering. The anticipation of matches like this are why you wait four years for the World Cup to come around. 'Brazil always bring colour and imagination to a World Cup,' noted Mr Lineker. Well, that's just asking for trouble, isn't it? Clarance Seedorf survived an encounter with the deadly killer Garth Crooks and made some very good points: 'Kaka has not had the best season with Real Madrid, of course, and he did not show his best in the first game against North Korea either. But he is working hard and I am sure he can settle into this tournament and come to life at any moment. Ivory Coast will have to keep a check on him because he is such a top player.'
The game started slowly. Very slowly. In fact a highlight of the first ten minutes was a really rather barbed jibe by the normally quite passive Mark Lawrenson about Sepp Blatter. That, and Jonathan Pearce's one man love affair/'but why does he have to be such a cheat?' confusion over Lucio. The Ivory Coast looked good, hunting in packs, good in possession, strong and disciplined. All-in-all they were probably the better team for most of the oepning phase. No final product though and I think it was about a quarter of an hour in before Drogba actually touched the ball. Mind you, the same could be said for Kaka and Luis Fabiano at the other end. Then, after twenty five minutes, the latter scored one the goal of the tournament, a vicious shot from the corner of the box that almost burst the net.
If that was 'one of the best goals of the tournament' then the one he scored early in the second half appeared to be the best, a stunning piece of ball juggling in the area before a clinical finish. Sadly, TV replays showed it was a case of literal juggling as he'd clearly handled it. None of the officials saw it, however and it was 2-0. Then, finally, the Ivories got tickled and woke it. Drogba had a fine chance to pull a goal back but missed it. As if stop contemptuously slap the uppity Afircan back down into the gutter, Brazil promptly went up the other end and scored a third, a beauty by Elano. Meanwhile, Pearce and Lawrenson were having a fascinating discussion about whether people who do the Mexican Wave are 'muppets' or whether Lawrenson is a 'Scrouge.' That'd be 'yes and, err, 'yes.' Elano then just about survived a really nasty shin-breaker of a tackle by Tiote, though he had to go off. By this time the Brazilians had finally turned up to the party with a bottle of rum and a six foot three transvestite dressed like Carman Miranda. Of course, there were inevitable hiccups (you get that with coconut rum). Drogba reduced arrears after a fine move. Kaka got himself booked for a bit of stupid push and shove and then sent off for an elbow in the chest of Keita. Which was obviously a considerable surprise to the African as he went down clutching his face. It all got a bit nasty and spiteful which, to be honest, the game had never been before that. And there were lots of amusing shots of Dunga going mental on the touchline.
Goals: 57
Red Cards: 9
Just signing in to say thanks for the thread. Nothing really of interest to add though I'm afraid.
The Glorious Leader's Boys v Cristiano Ronaldo's Winkers
Turning on the TV, the first thing I heard was Mick McCarthy's droning voice wittering on about 'passion and commitment.' Is there an alternative commentary for this one?
The first half hour produced not much really until the Portuguese took the lead. Faced with a packed North Korea defence, Tiago played a terrifc pass, perfectly weighted, into the path of heavily tattooed butch-boy Raul Meireles racing into the area and he rifled a low shot past Ri Myong-Guk. 'There wasn't much North Korea could do about that goal as there was some excellent Portugal movement and passing in the build-up,' noted Graham Taylor on 5Live. 'It will be interesting to see how North Korea will react to that goal.' Bombing Lisbon? Just a suggestion. 'The North Koreans have paid the price for adventure,' noted Hansen at half-time. He, Shearer and Lineker were very enthusiastic about the game and the effort, if not the quality on display.
And, then it all went horribly wrong! Goals by Simao, Almeida and Tiago in seven second-half minutes put the game to bed. The third goal, Almedia's, in particular was a beauty - a header from Fabio Coentrao's pinpoint cross. The only hope for the neutral, now, was that Ronaldo would again dramatically fall over like he did in the first half and get booked for simulation, thus causing him to miss the Brazil game. Tragically, this didn't happen. 'He does get whacked a lot and he asks for a lot of it when he goes dancing over the ball at 4-0,' said Mick McCarthy to massed cheering right across Europe. I hate this game - it's made me agree with Mick McCarthy. It's just doesn't get any worse than that. A fifth goal was added by the substitute, Liedson. A sixth by Ronaldo. The smirk on his face just made you want to kick him, hard, in the knackers. Though, Eusabio's reaction in the seats was much warmer and more dignified. Tiago got a seventh two minutes from the end as the Koreans capitulated completely. Biggest losers, the Ivory Coast.
Goals: 64
Red Cards: 9
Turning on the TV, the first thing I heard was Mick McCarthy's droning voice wittering on about 'passion and commitment.' Is there an alternative commentary for this one?
The first half hour produced not much really until the Portuguese took the lead. Faced with a packed North Korea defence, Tiago played a terrifc pass, perfectly weighted, into the path of heavily tattooed butch-boy Raul Meireles racing into the area and he rifled a low shot past Ri Myong-Guk. 'There wasn't much North Korea could do about that goal as there was some excellent Portugal movement and passing in the build-up,' noted Graham Taylor on 5Live. 'It will be interesting to see how North Korea will react to that goal.' Bombing Lisbon? Just a suggestion. 'The North Koreans have paid the price for adventure,' noted Hansen at half-time. He, Shearer and Lineker were very enthusiastic about the game and the effort, if not the quality on display.
And, then it all went horribly wrong! Goals by Simao, Almeida and Tiago in seven second-half minutes put the game to bed. The third goal, Almedia's, in particular was a beauty - a header from Fabio Coentrao's pinpoint cross. The only hope for the neutral, now, was that Ronaldo would again dramatically fall over like he did in the first half and get booked for simulation, thus causing him to miss the Brazil game. Tragically, this didn't happen. 'He does get whacked a lot and he asks for a lot of it when he goes dancing over the ball at 4-0,' said Mick McCarthy to massed cheering right across Europe. I hate this game - it's made me agree with Mick McCarthy. It's just doesn't get any worse than that. A fifth goal was added by the substitute, Liedson. A sixth by Ronaldo. The smirk on his face just made you want to kick him, hard, in the knackers. Though, Eusabio's reaction in the seats was much warmer and more dignified. Tiago got a seventh two minutes from the end as the Koreans capitulated completely. Biggest losers, the Ivory Coast.
Goals: 64
Red Cards: 9
Voodoo Chile v Young Boys of Bern
A really fascinating clash from Nelson Mandela Bay, this one. Guy Mowbray stuck the knife in early with a spiteful little reminder of Mark Bright's disastrous four months playing with the gnomes of FC Sion which to catch Brighty mind-strop. The game got off to a right old bit of palavar as Humberto Suazo became one of the quickest booking in world cup history (fifty eight seconds). And, that sort of set the tone with a very picky referee. There were moments of individual skill and class amid a welter of stop-start and niggly fouls and it was pretty inevtiable that, sooner or later, somebody was going to get sent off. It just had that feel to it. After thirty minutes, we got what we'd been expecting. Valon Behrami was given his marching orders for an elbow on Arturo Vidal. It didn't actually look too bad at normal speed and the Chilean clearly made a meal of it but, on reflection, TV replays did justify the referee, Khali Al Ghamdi's decision.
In the second half Sanchez had a goal disallowed for offisde (it was), which caused a momentary pause in Mark Bright's brown-tongued love affair with the Chilean. The Swiss held on, broke a record for not conceding a goal in World Cup games and, despite Chile's flair and guile, the longer it went on, the more a part of you actually wanted them to hold on and get a battling draw. 'It's one of the oddest games of football I've ever seen,' noted Guy Mowbray. Not odd, exactly. Curious. Then, finally, Estaban Paredes beat the offside trap and crossed for Gonzalez to score. 'The key to unlock that Swiss bank vault is found!' said Guy, poetically. They then missed a hat full of chances to wrap the game up. They were almost made to pay in the last minute when Derdiyok missed a sitter to equalise. Really good game in the end - despite the referee!
Goals: 65
Red Cards: 10
A really fascinating clash from Nelson Mandela Bay, this one. Guy Mowbray stuck the knife in early with a spiteful little reminder of Mark Bright's disastrous four months playing with the gnomes of FC Sion which to catch Brighty mind-strop. The game got off to a right old bit of palavar as Humberto Suazo became one of the quickest booking in world cup history (fifty eight seconds). And, that sort of set the tone with a very picky referee. There were moments of individual skill and class amid a welter of stop-start and niggly fouls and it was pretty inevtiable that, sooner or later, somebody was going to get sent off. It just had that feel to it. After thirty minutes, we got what we'd been expecting. Valon Behrami was given his marching orders for an elbow on Arturo Vidal. It didn't actually look too bad at normal speed and the Chilean clearly made a meal of it but, on reflection, TV replays did justify the referee, Khali Al Ghamdi's decision.
In the second half Sanchez had a goal disallowed for offisde (it was), which caused a momentary pause in Mark Bright's brown-tongued love affair with the Chilean. The Swiss held on, broke a record for not conceding a goal in World Cup games and, despite Chile's flair and guile, the longer it went on, the more a part of you actually wanted them to hold on and get a battling draw. 'It's one of the oddest games of football I've ever seen,' noted Guy Mowbray. Not odd, exactly. Curious. Then, finally, Estaban Paredes beat the offside trap and crossed for Gonzalez to score. 'The key to unlock that Swiss bank vault is found!' said Guy, poetically. They then missed a hat full of chances to wrap the game up. They were almost made to pay in the last minute when Derdiyok missed a sitter to equalise. Really good game in the end - despite the referee!
Goals: 65
Red Cards: 10
Really enjoyed the 2nd half of the Chile game just a shame Mark Bright is a complete muppet ! He appears to talk more than the actual commentator. Think those missed chances may come back to haunt Chile if goal diff comes into play in this group.
Spain v Poor Bloody Honduras Haven't Got A Chance
Do my ears deceive me? Is that Alan Shearer really doing voice overs on Morrisons adverts? After ITV had done their stint at destabilising the England camp by running as 'Capello slags off Terry' interview, and Chiles had ramped up the 'DRAMATIC BREAKING NEWS' ¤¤¤¤e (the dramatic breaking news being 'the England manager asserts his right to, you know, manage), we were off for forty five minutes of quite disgraceful slavver from Drury and Beglin over Spain. Yes, they were good in the first half - only scored one, mind, but still they knocked the ball about something lovely. But, to hear Clive and Jim go on you'd think they had Torres and co giving them a lap dance and smothering their naughty bits in slimy love butter. I mean, it's just a game of football, chaps. Yes, David Villa's goal was indeed a thing of beauty. Yes, they're good. But, there are two teams playing, you know. In fact, one of the highlights of the half, was Pique getting hit in the stones with the ball blammed from close rang. Fair brought tears to the eyes, so it did. Try looking sexy after that, senor!
Second half? Boring. Villa scored another. Villa missed a penalty. Honduras hardly got the ball out of their own half. Spain strolled around like they owned the place. Fabregas came on and, with his first touch had a goalbound shot cleared off the line. It drifted. It ended. We learned nothing.
Goals: 67
Red Cards: 10
Do my ears deceive me? Is that Alan Shearer really doing voice overs on Morrisons adverts? After ITV had done their stint at destabilising the England camp by running as 'Capello slags off Terry' interview, and Chiles had ramped up the 'DRAMATIC BREAKING NEWS' ¤¤¤¤e (the dramatic breaking news being 'the England manager asserts his right to, you know, manage), we were off for forty five minutes of quite disgraceful slavver from Drury and Beglin over Spain. Yes, they were good in the first half - only scored one, mind, but still they knocked the ball about something lovely. But, to hear Clive and Jim go on you'd think they had Torres and co giving them a lap dance and smothering their naughty bits in slimy love butter. I mean, it's just a game of football, chaps. Yes, David Villa's goal was indeed a thing of beauty. Yes, they're good. But, there are two teams playing, you know. In fact, one of the highlights of the half, was Pique getting hit in the stones with the ball blammed from close rang. Fair brought tears to the eyes, so it did. Try looking sexy after that, senor!
Second half? Boring. Villa scored another. Villa missed a penalty. Honduras hardly got the ball out of their own half. Spain strolled around like they owned the place. Fabregas came on and, with his first touch had a goalbound shot cleared off the line. It drifted. It ended. We learned nothing.
Goals: 67
Red Cards: 10
South Africa v The Piss Artists Formerly Known As France
Mexico v U-Are-Gay
ITV's panel features two pinkish shirts today (Chiles and Townsend, though the latter's checky-effort was closer to mauve, really). 'Wherever you look in the French camp there's confusion,' noted Adrian informing viewers that Evra had been dropped and that Henry would remain on the bench having, apparently, been described by someone in the French Federation as 'one of the ringleaders,' of the general stroppiness that's been going on. Then, we got a shot of South Africa singing their way into the stadium and, you just had a feeling this could be something really special. And, that's how it started. 'A hymn of mutiny and rebellion sung by those with revolution in their hearts,' was how Jon Champion described 'La Marseilles.' Apt. South Africa were easily the better side and, after twenty minutes, Siphiwe Tshabalala put over a corner from the left and Hugo Lloris - allegedly one of the best goalies in Europe - couldn't decide whether to come or go, came, and completely missed it. Bongani Khumalo headed the ball in at the far post. Actually, it probably hit his shoulder but, who cares? And then it just got worse and worse for the French. Gourcuff elbowed MacBeth Sibaya in the boat-race from a corner. The Colombian referee Oscar Ruiz immediately showed a red card. There was some initial confusion as it appeared he'd actually sent Djibril Cisse off. It's not as if he and and Gourcuff even look, particularly, alike. A few minuites later and a cross from the South African left hit Abou Diaby and when the second cross came in it, fell to Katlego Mphela who, from three yards, tapped it into an empty net. The stadium, inevtiably, went berserk. At half time, Chiles cracked a really tasteless comment about Marcel Desailly having to be talked out of suicide. I hope that one gets plenty of complaints to Ofcom.
Meanwhile, over in the other game on ITV4, from the two little bits I saw of it, that was a bit of cracker too. Mexico hitting the bar before Luis Suarez scored for the U-Are-Gays with a fine header. The plot thickened. Ten minutes into the second half ,like a knackered old carthorse turning up at the Grand National, Monsieur Henry entered the scene, still with that bastard annoying look on his face like someone was spreading manure in his general vacinity. When, after a few minutes, he accidentally handled the ball whilst trying to control a cross, Champion and Beglin got at least a minute out of the resulting 'irony.' Oh, how we laughed. Hollowly. Shortly afterwards, Malouda got on the end of Ribery's cross to finally silence the vuvzela. For a moment. I took the opportunity to flick over and check out the other match. It was all Mexico but with the Uruguyans breaking intelligently and with pace. Looked a really good game, actually. But, I was soon with Les Flops. And so, the sands of time slipped away fro both the Scare Blues and Bafana Bafana. One, in patch, lit up the tournament and made us believe, however briefly, in the possibility of miracles. The others was an over-paid, under-performing, stroppy, arrogant, annoying, amusing disgrace. No one, not a single lover of the beautiful game, will miss them for a second. Au revoir. Je suis desole, j'ai la diarhee.
Mexico v U-Are-Gay
ITV's panel features two pinkish shirts today (Chiles and Townsend, though the latter's checky-effort was closer to mauve, really). 'Wherever you look in the French camp there's confusion,' noted Adrian informing viewers that Evra had been dropped and that Henry would remain on the bench having, apparently, been described by someone in the French Federation as 'one of the ringleaders,' of the general stroppiness that's been going on. Then, we got a shot of South Africa singing their way into the stadium and, you just had a feeling this could be something really special. And, that's how it started. 'A hymn of mutiny and rebellion sung by those with revolution in their hearts,' was how Jon Champion described 'La Marseilles.' Apt. South Africa were easily the better side and, after twenty minutes, Siphiwe Tshabalala put over a corner from the left and Hugo Lloris - allegedly one of the best goalies in Europe - couldn't decide whether to come or go, came, and completely missed it. Bongani Khumalo headed the ball in at the far post. Actually, it probably hit his shoulder but, who cares? And then it just got worse and worse for the French. Gourcuff elbowed MacBeth Sibaya in the boat-race from a corner. The Colombian referee Oscar Ruiz immediately showed a red card. There was some initial confusion as it appeared he'd actually sent Djibril Cisse off. It's not as if he and and Gourcuff even look, particularly, alike. A few minuites later and a cross from the South African left hit Abou Diaby and when the second cross came in it, fell to Katlego Mphela who, from three yards, tapped it into an empty net. The stadium, inevtiably, went berserk. At half time, Chiles cracked a really tasteless comment about Marcel Desailly having to be talked out of suicide. I hope that one gets plenty of complaints to Ofcom.
Meanwhile, over in the other game on ITV4, from the two little bits I saw of it, that was a bit of cracker too. Mexico hitting the bar before Luis Suarez scored for the U-Are-Gays with a fine header. The plot thickened. Ten minutes into the second half ,like a knackered old carthorse turning up at the Grand National, Monsieur Henry entered the scene, still with that bastard annoying look on his face like someone was spreading manure in his general vacinity. When, after a few minutes, he accidentally handled the ball whilst trying to control a cross, Champion and Beglin got at least a minute out of the resulting 'irony.' Oh, how we laughed. Hollowly. Shortly afterwards, Malouda got on the end of Ribery's cross to finally silence the vuvzela. For a moment. I took the opportunity to flick over and check out the other match. It was all Mexico but with the Uruguyans breaking intelligently and with pace. Looked a really good game, actually. But, I was soon with Les Flops. And so, the sands of time slipped away fro both the Scare Blues and Bafana Bafana. One, in patch, lit up the tournament and made us believe, however briefly, in the possibility of miracles. The others was an over-paid, under-performing, stroppy, arrogant, annoying, amusing disgrace. No one, not a single lover of the beautiful game, will miss them for a second. Au revoir. Je suis desole, j'ai la diarhee.
Greasy Argentines v Greasy Greeks
South Corries v Nigerian Enders
Happy Harry The Hamster joined the BBC team tonight. Gosh, that's just what we need, another gob¤¤¤¤e - though definitely not corrupt, of course - manager who never got within an hundred miles for actually playing international football, let alone in the World Cup, telling us all how it should be done. Be still my heart. Very still. When showed a bit of footage of the 1982 Brazilians, Happy Harry's in depth analysis was 'unbelieveable that, Gary, unbelieveable.' And my licence fee is going on this? Bring back Christine Bleakley. At least she's pretty and can read an autocue. Things didn't improve much once we reached the stadium with Mick McCarthy's pronunciation of Papaststhopoulos sounding more uncannily like 'that b@stard popoulos' each successive time he said it.
As excepted, of course, the Argentine's strutted about like they own the place, passing the ball to death in moves so complex they appeared in danger of diappearing in a puff of prestidigitation. It took them twelve minutes before they actually had a shot on goal, however. I checked out the other game on BBC3. Not much to say, really. Everybody looked a bit disinterested. And Kanu was playing. 'nuff said, really. Back to the Argentine. (Course, typically, literally about thirty seconds after I switched back, Uche scored for the Nigerians.) And so the first half continued as a bit of a disappointment, to be honest. One team happy, for the most part, not to play and the other team happy, for the most part, to play with themselves. The Greek keepr made a couple of good save, the Greeks occasionally produced a few passes and big Samaras up front looked quite decent on the odd occasions when the ball got through to him. A highlight of the first half was Papadopoulos going down heavily claiming he'd been smacked in the mush, being taken off, and coming back on with a comically huge swab of cotton wool in his gob. Made him look like he was in a constant state of projectile vomit. I turned back over to hear Simon Brotherton say 'Nigeria are, at times, threatening to play really very well indeed.' But then, Mark Bright opened his mouth and I sought the safety of BBC1 and McCarthy instead. And, again, missed a goal - South Korea's equaliser - by seconds.
The second half began ominously for Greece. Dear old Otto Rehhagel took off his playmaker, Karagounis, and brought of a full back. Whilst the Greeks were showing a spectacular lack of ambition, over in Durban, the Koreans had taken the lead. It was hard not to cheer. For all of Greece's hard word and spirit, their 8-1-1 formation was doing nothing for the cause of adventurous football. meanwhile, Yakuku was providing them miss of the world cup, from literally two feet and then, an equaliser, from the penalty spot. Do you ever get the feeling you've just picked the wrong game to watch. When Mick McCarthy starts banging on about 'I hate to commentate on games like this,' you know something is backward. I mean, he's managed enough of them. 'I would be so disappointed if I'd come to the World Cup and not had a go. it must be a hollow feeling.' cough1990cough. Anyway.
And then, fianlly, finally, Demichelis scored. And, for once, pretty much everybody in the world was cheering an Argie goal. well, not in Athens, obviously. But, definitely in Soeul and Lagos. The Argies got a second whilst, in the other match, the score ended 2-2 and the Korries were through. The crowd, and Greece, went home. Not with a bang, but a whimper.
Goals: 77
Red Cards: 11
South Corries v Nigerian Enders
Happy Harry The Hamster joined the BBC team tonight. Gosh, that's just what we need, another gob¤¤¤¤e - though definitely not corrupt, of course - manager who never got within an hundred miles for actually playing international football, let alone in the World Cup, telling us all how it should be done. Be still my heart. Very still. When showed a bit of footage of the 1982 Brazilians, Happy Harry's in depth analysis was 'unbelieveable that, Gary, unbelieveable.' And my licence fee is going on this? Bring back Christine Bleakley. At least she's pretty and can read an autocue. Things didn't improve much once we reached the stadium with Mick McCarthy's pronunciation of Papaststhopoulos sounding more uncannily like 'that b@stard popoulos' each successive time he said it.
As excepted, of course, the Argentine's strutted about like they own the place, passing the ball to death in moves so complex they appeared in danger of diappearing in a puff of prestidigitation. It took them twelve minutes before they actually had a shot on goal, however. I checked out the other game on BBC3. Not much to say, really. Everybody looked a bit disinterested. And Kanu was playing. 'nuff said, really. Back to the Argentine. (Course, typically, literally about thirty seconds after I switched back, Uche scored for the Nigerians.) And so the first half continued as a bit of a disappointment, to be honest. One team happy, for the most part, not to play and the other team happy, for the most part, to play with themselves. The Greek keepr made a couple of good save, the Greeks occasionally produced a few passes and big Samaras up front looked quite decent on the odd occasions when the ball got through to him. A highlight of the first half was Papadopoulos going down heavily claiming he'd been smacked in the mush, being taken off, and coming back on with a comically huge swab of cotton wool in his gob. Made him look like he was in a constant state of projectile vomit. I turned back over to hear Simon Brotherton say 'Nigeria are, at times, threatening to play really very well indeed.' But then, Mark Bright opened his mouth and I sought the safety of BBC1 and McCarthy instead. And, again, missed a goal - South Korea's equaliser - by seconds.
The second half began ominously for Greece. Dear old Otto Rehhagel took off his playmaker, Karagounis, and brought of a full back. Whilst the Greeks were showing a spectacular lack of ambition, over in Durban, the Koreans had taken the lead. It was hard not to cheer. For all of Greece's hard word and spirit, their 8-1-1 formation was doing nothing for the cause of adventurous football. meanwhile, Yakuku was providing them miss of the world cup, from literally two feet and then, an equaliser, from the penalty spot. Do you ever get the feeling you've just picked the wrong game to watch. When Mick McCarthy starts banging on about 'I hate to commentate on games like this,' you know something is backward. I mean, he's managed enough of them. 'I would be so disappointed if I'd come to the World Cup and not had a go. it must be a hollow feeling.' cough1990cough. Anyway.
And then, fianlly, finally, Demichelis scored. And, for once, pretty much everybody in the world was cheering an Argie goal. well, not in Athens, obviously. But, definitely in Soeul and Lagos. The Argies got a second whilst, in the other match, the score ended 2-2 and the Korries were through. The crowd, and Greece, went home. Not with a bang, but a whimper.
Goals: 77
Red Cards: 11
For the record, rather than for the purpose of gloating, you missed a cracker in the Nigeria game GP.
The second half was end to end stuff with both teams covering up their defensive weaknesses by trying to score.
I have no idea what the first half was like however, as I made the same mistake as you to begin with...
The second half was end to end stuff with both teams covering up their defensive weaknesses by trying to score.
I have no idea what the first half was like however, as I made the same mistake as you to begin with...
Day 13: Unlucky for Some
This is England v Slovenia
Them Damn Yankies v Algeria
D-Day. Or some other crass war metaphor which I'm sure the Daily Scum used in a headline this morning. Hopefully not Dunkirk, however. Milner and Rooney were the only two players not to sing during the national anthem. Good on 'em. It's a dispicable, racist, tub-thumping piece of jingoistic xenophobia from another age that should have been consigned to the dustbin of history a century ago or more. 'Have you got it right, Fabio?' asked Guy Mowbray. Mark Lawrenson, meanwhile, was having a go at his turning his droll-chap act into genuine stand-up. After a particularly rash Glen Johnson tackle, he noted 'you know you're in trouble when Wayne Rooney's telling you to calm down!' He also, seemingly, invented a new phrase, describing something as 'a rinky-dink pass.' He wasn't alone, either. Shearer was also rewriting the dictionary, with 'tufficult!' Personally, I spent the afternoon watching the game at a friend's gaff and we both agreed that England were in serious danger of actually getting it right. Pace, direction, a bit of passion. England were a thousand times better than they were in the last match. They still weren't great, but they played like they actually meant it. Like they wanted it. All of the things, in fact, that the French didn't do last night. They only won 1-0, thanks to a Jermain Defoe goal from a superb James Milner cross and a few flukey defensive moments in their own box. They had a goal disallowed, Rooney hit the post, Gerrard and Lampard (both of whom played as well as they have for England for, probably four years at least) brought good saves out of the impressive Slovenian keeper. Slovenia seldom threatened and, on the two occasions when they did, a combination of Terry, Johnson and Upson (who, in particular, was terrifc) kept them at arms length. In truth, David James never really had a shot worthy of note to save.
So, England - with relative ease - moved into the next round. And, right up until the last minute, it appeared that the Slovenly Slovenians would be joining them. That was, until a last minute goal from Landon Donovan gave America a win which meant they topped the group. The US were on the brink of going out of the competition when Donovan followed up a save from Raid Ouheb M'bolhi during injury time to smash the ball home. Until that moment it had been a story of inspired saves from M'bolhi, poor American finishing and a lineman's error, which denied Clint Eastwood (or someone) a goal in the first half. But Donovan's late intervention delivered a deserved victory, which pushed England into second place in Group C on goals scored. Some people will, of course, be disappointed by that, and with a potential second round tie with der Chermans. But, to be honest, I'm not. I've been a bit too concerned about this 'easy route the the final' nonsense that's been going on. Almost as soon as the draw was made people were out with their slide-rules saying 'all we've got to do is win the group and we avoid X, Y and Z.' As anybody with half-a-brain in their head knows, there's a bit more too it than that. If you want to win the World Cup you've got to play, and beat, the best. England, at least, have the chance to do that. The World Cup, for England, starts here.
Goals: 79
Red Cards: 11
This is England v Slovenia
Them Damn Yankies v Algeria
D-Day. Or some other crass war metaphor which I'm sure the Daily Scum used in a headline this morning. Hopefully not Dunkirk, however. Milner and Rooney were the only two players not to sing during the national anthem. Good on 'em. It's a dispicable, racist, tub-thumping piece of jingoistic xenophobia from another age that should have been consigned to the dustbin of history a century ago or more. 'Have you got it right, Fabio?' asked Guy Mowbray. Mark Lawrenson, meanwhile, was having a go at his turning his droll-chap act into genuine stand-up. After a particularly rash Glen Johnson tackle, he noted 'you know you're in trouble when Wayne Rooney's telling you to calm down!' He also, seemingly, invented a new phrase, describing something as 'a rinky-dink pass.' He wasn't alone, either. Shearer was also rewriting the dictionary, with 'tufficult!' Personally, I spent the afternoon watching the game at a friend's gaff and we both agreed that England were in serious danger of actually getting it right. Pace, direction, a bit of passion. England were a thousand times better than they were in the last match. They still weren't great, but they played like they actually meant it. Like they wanted it. All of the things, in fact, that the French didn't do last night. They only won 1-0, thanks to a Jermain Defoe goal from a superb James Milner cross and a few flukey defensive moments in their own box. They had a goal disallowed, Rooney hit the post, Gerrard and Lampard (both of whom played as well as they have for England for, probably four years at least) brought good saves out of the impressive Slovenian keeper. Slovenia seldom threatened and, on the two occasions when they did, a combination of Terry, Johnson and Upson (who, in particular, was terrifc) kept them at arms length. In truth, David James never really had a shot worthy of note to save.
So, England - with relative ease - moved into the next round. And, right up until the last minute, it appeared that the Slovenly Slovenians would be joining them. That was, until a last minute goal from Landon Donovan gave America a win which meant they topped the group. The US were on the brink of going out of the competition when Donovan followed up a save from Raid Ouheb M'bolhi during injury time to smash the ball home. Until that moment it had been a story of inspired saves from M'bolhi, poor American finishing and a lineman's error, which denied Clint Eastwood (or someone) a goal in the first half. But Donovan's late intervention delivered a deserved victory, which pushed England into second place in Group C on goals scored. Some people will, of course, be disappointed by that, and with a potential second round tie with der Chermans. But, to be honest, I'm not. I've been a bit too concerned about this 'easy route the the final' nonsense that's been going on. Almost as soon as the draw was made people were out with their slide-rules saying 'all we've got to do is win the group and we avoid X, Y and Z.' As anybody with half-a-brain in their head knows, there's a bit more too it than that. If you want to win the World Cup you've got to play, and beat, the best. England, at least, have the chance to do that. The World Cup, for England, starts here.
Goals: 79
Red Cards: 11
Herman The German v Whatcha Ghana Do?
Orrstraylya v Serbia
In the 1938 World Cup, played in France, the Italian team were whistled for their entire first game, a meeting with Norway in Marseille, by anti-fascist expats. When the quarter-final came around and Italy met France, the French suggested to Vittorio Pozzo that his team should wear red shirts. Italy instead chose to wear black shirts in honour of their fascist regime and in spite an infuriated crowd, won the game 3-1 and advanced to the semi-final. In 2010, in a game against Ghana, Ze Chermans wore all black. I'm just saying ...
Anyway, the first half of Germany v Ghana might, just, be my favourite forty five minutes of the tournament so far. Two teams, very different in their own ways but with one remarkable similarity - really good coming forward, a bit dodgy at the back. It was terrific, a proper game of football. From the thirty seconds I saw of the Serbs and the Aussies on ITV4 (also got wrapped up in the historic events at wimbledon), that looked not bad either. In Jo'burg, Ghana was terrific, neat and intricate with their passing. Asamoah Gyan missed acouple of sitters at one end, but only the agility of Richard Kingson kept Ozil out at the other. And, there was 'the war of Lahm's arm.'
The second half was pretty decent two. Ze Chermans took the lead thanks to the nippy Ozil. Meanwhile, over in Nelspruit, the Socceroos were going crazy ape-¤¤¤¤ bonkers with a drill and sex) and scored twice inside four minutes (Cahill and Holman) as the Serbs capitulated faster than a war crimes trial at the Hague. The Serbia scored. Then they had a potential equaliser disalolowed. And, meanwhile, Ze Chermans were recovering their composure, remembering only to smile at all of those silly billlys who'd written them off and strolled, confidently, towards the second round.
Goals: 83
Red Cards: 12
Orrstraylya v Serbia
In the 1938 World Cup, played in France, the Italian team were whistled for their entire first game, a meeting with Norway in Marseille, by anti-fascist expats. When the quarter-final came around and Italy met France, the French suggested to Vittorio Pozzo that his team should wear red shirts. Italy instead chose to wear black shirts in honour of their fascist regime and in spite an infuriated crowd, won the game 3-1 and advanced to the semi-final. In 2010, in a game against Ghana, Ze Chermans wore all black. I'm just saying ...
Anyway, the first half of Germany v Ghana might, just, be my favourite forty five minutes of the tournament so far. Two teams, very different in their own ways but with one remarkable similarity - really good coming forward, a bit dodgy at the back. It was terrific, a proper game of football. From the thirty seconds I saw of the Serbs and the Aussies on ITV4 (also got wrapped up in the historic events at wimbledon), that looked not bad either. In Jo'burg, Ghana was terrific, neat and intricate with their passing. Asamoah Gyan missed acouple of sitters at one end, but only the agility of Richard Kingson kept Ozil out at the other. And, there was 'the war of Lahm's arm.'
The second half was pretty decent two. Ze Chermans took the lead thanks to the nippy Ozil. Meanwhile, over in Nelspruit, the Socceroos were going crazy ape-¤¤¤¤ bonkers with a drill and sex) and scored twice inside four minutes (Cahill and Holman) as the Serbs capitulated faster than a war crimes trial at the Hague. The Serbia scored. Then they had a potential equaliser disalolowed. And, meanwhile, Ze Chermans were recovering their composure, remembering only to smile at all of those silly billlys who'd written them off and strolled, confidently, towards the second round.
Goals: 83
Red Cards: 12
Italy v Solvakia
Paraguay v New Zealand
When it comes to the crunch, it's been my experience that the Italians tend to revert to type. And this was, obviously, no exception. Cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war. Hence, they sent for Gattuso, and prepared the trenches! I love Italian football but there really is something very predictable about them when things are not going well. They lose their temper, basically. As Cannavarro Zambrotta and good old Rino went around kicking people Slovakia started to look dangerous. Then they went and took the lead. De Rossi gave the ball away and Marek Hamsik slips a pass through for Robert Vittek on the edge of the Italian box. The striker slid a shot into the corner past Marchetti's despairing dive. Oh corks. What the hell is going on in this World Cup?! At half-time, Andy Townsend (whose turn it was to wear ITV's pink shirt today) described the Itlaians as 'the worst ever defending world champpions.' Hard not to agree with that (although, France were shockingly poor in 2002). Lippi decided to go for Plan B, off went Gattuso - for what may well be the final time in a World Cup match - replaced by Fabio Quagliarella and, at the back, Magio was brought on for Criscito. Soon, Pirlo also entered the arena. A clearly unfit, half-paced Pirlo.
Meanwhile, over in Polokwane, what ITV were calling 'the worst World Cup game ever', Paraguay v New Zealand was attracting almost no attention whatsoever! After fifty minutes the BBC excitedly reported that there'd been a shot on goal. Yeah. I think made the right choice with which match to watch. When Vittek scored a second, with fifteen minutes to go, it was arrivaderchi Roma. When Di Natalae pulled one back with nine minutes left, it was game on. After that, we got what you'd expect, an azure tide crashing against the shores of a Slovakian defence. You had to wonder - as Jim beglin did - why it took Italy this long to start playing. Then, Quagliarella scroed an equaliser that was ruled out for a fractionaly marginal offside. Howard Webb had to break up at least one stroppy handbags-at-ten-paces fight involving the Slovakian keeper. You wonders what was going on in the streets of Turin and Milan and Rome, what was going on in the tiny tavernas of the Amalfi coast and the trattorias of Campagna and Tuscany. It was thrilling stuff. Unlike Paraguay v new Zealand which, apparently, wasn't. And then, two minutes from the end, the young Slovak substitute Kopunek scored with his first touch. And it was one of the goals of the tournament. Magic. Absolutely brilliant. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why we love this game. But wait, it's not over yet, Quagliarella smashed one in fron twenty five yards. Instead of being all over bar the shouting it was all shouting over the bar. Last minute of injury time, a scramble in the box and Pepe, from six yards, missed. Italy dethroned. Ciao.
Paraguay and New Zealand, meanwhile, reminds us that football can be rubbish, too!
Goals: 88
Red Cards: 12
Paraguay v New Zealand
When it comes to the crunch, it's been my experience that the Italians tend to revert to type. And this was, obviously, no exception. Cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war. Hence, they sent for Gattuso, and prepared the trenches! I love Italian football but there really is something very predictable about them when things are not going well. They lose their temper, basically. As Cannavarro Zambrotta and good old Rino went around kicking people Slovakia started to look dangerous. Then they went and took the lead. De Rossi gave the ball away and Marek Hamsik slips a pass through for Robert Vittek on the edge of the Italian box. The striker slid a shot into the corner past Marchetti's despairing dive. Oh corks. What the hell is going on in this World Cup?! At half-time, Andy Townsend (whose turn it was to wear ITV's pink shirt today) described the Itlaians as 'the worst ever defending world champpions.' Hard not to agree with that (although, France were shockingly poor in 2002). Lippi decided to go for Plan B, off went Gattuso - for what may well be the final time in a World Cup match - replaced by Fabio Quagliarella and, at the back, Magio was brought on for Criscito. Soon, Pirlo also entered the arena. A clearly unfit, half-paced Pirlo.
Meanwhile, over in Polokwane, what ITV were calling 'the worst World Cup game ever', Paraguay v New Zealand was attracting almost no attention whatsoever! After fifty minutes the BBC excitedly reported that there'd been a shot on goal. Yeah. I think made the right choice with which match to watch. When Vittek scored a second, with fifteen minutes to go, it was arrivaderchi Roma. When Di Natalae pulled one back with nine minutes left, it was game on. After that, we got what you'd expect, an azure tide crashing against the shores of a Slovakian defence. You had to wonder - as Jim beglin did - why it took Italy this long to start playing. Then, Quagliarella scroed an equaliser that was ruled out for a fractionaly marginal offside. Howard Webb had to break up at least one stroppy handbags-at-ten-paces fight involving the Slovakian keeper. You wonders what was going on in the streets of Turin and Milan and Rome, what was going on in the tiny tavernas of the Amalfi coast and the trattorias of Campagna and Tuscany. It was thrilling stuff. Unlike Paraguay v new Zealand which, apparently, wasn't. And then, two minutes from the end, the young Slovak substitute Kopunek scored with his first touch. And it was one of the goals of the tournament. Magic. Absolutely brilliant. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why we love this game. But wait, it's not over yet, Quagliarella smashed one in fron twenty five yards. Instead of being all over bar the shouting it was all shouting over the bar. Last minute of injury time, a scramble in the box and Pepe, from six yards, missed. Italy dethroned. Ciao.
Paraguay and New Zealand, meanwhile, reminds us that football can be rubbish, too!
Goals: 88
Red Cards: 12
Hi grav been away
Another in my o-so-unentertaining pieces on the the tv output this world cup
In particular the adverts
THis time its the big one, The Nike one, you know where ROoney is playing table tennis with Roger FedExpress & Ronaldo meets intellectual equal Homer Simpson
Excellent article in the independent today by Glenn Moore
http://www.independent.co.uk/sport/football/world-cup/rooney-needs-a-lucky-break-to-get-over-his-injury-ndash-and-the-nike-curse-2008550.html
Another in my o-so-unentertaining pieces on the the tv output this world cup
In particular the adverts
THis time its the big one, The Nike one, you know where ROoney is playing table tennis with Roger FedExpress & Ronaldo meets intellectual equal Homer Simpson
Excellent article in the independent today by Glenn Moore
http://www.independent.co.uk/sport/football/world-cup/rooney-needs-a-lucky-break-to-get-over-his-injury-ndash-and-the-nike-curse-2008550.html
Denmark v Japan
The Netherlands v Cameroon
In a last-minute switch of main matches, BBC1 decided to go with Denmark. Gary Lineker summed up the mathematics involved in the group situation whilst Happy Harry the Hamster merely looked confused and, when asked his opinion of the Italians, muttered some crass monosyllabic platitudes ('they'll be gutted, Gary. Cos, you know, they're, like, proud, you know?') I decided, therefore, to try BBC3 for a while. after all, they were featuring my favourite international teams, the Dutch. Unfortunately, flicking over, I was presented with the horroshow of Mark Bright and Garth Crooks, not even given a BBC chair to sit on but forced to stand whilst they dibbled a load of stuff and nonsense about 'quality' and 'commitment.' 'The Dutch haven't impressed, yet,' said Bright. And, neither have you, you depressing inarticulate non-entity. Switch. Back to the Danes and Japan, then. And, it looked almost immediately like I made the right choice. Japan were simply sensational in the first half. True the Danes looked slow, and ponderous and as thought it was they that only needed a draw to progress rather than their opponents. but that should take nothing away from Japan was scored two brilliant goals - both direct from free-kicks - and could have had a shedload more. It was a performance that had the panel purring at half time. And, if you've never heard Alan Shearer purr, it's really quite an experience.
Meanwhile, the Dutch had taken the lead against Cameron (Van Persie) and Kuyt had missed half-a-dozen sitters. So, no change there, then. 'Robin van Persie has scored for the Netherlands - and now Denmark need the same from his Arsenal team-mate Nicklas Bendtner. Is he out there though? I haven't seen him all game,' noted Martin Keown. At half-time, the BBC showed a trailer for Saturday's Doctor Who season finale. 'Big weekend of telly,' noted Gary. I turned over to BBC3 and Mark Bright was spewing diarrhoea and Crooks was looking pissed off that he couldn't get a word in edgeways. Back to BBC1. Switch. God bless whomsoever invented the remote control.
Second-half. Thomas Sorenson, who I've always considered to be a pretty good goalkeeper, was having a right 'mare. Almost presented Japan with a third. A highlight of the second-half, in which a knackerless Denmark never looked remotely threatening, was Keown making a bid of the World Cup's single most tasteless comment: 'It's going to be an aerial bombardment now.' Well done, Martin. Over in Cape Town the Macaroons got a penalty and Eto'o scored. The Dutch looked ... mildly erked. Rigobert Song, with dyed-blond hair and beard that Mark Lawrenson thought made him 'look like King Neptune,' came on as substitute. Back to Denmark and, finally, ten minutes from the end, they were awarded a penalty. Jon Dahl Tomasson, still needing one goal to equal the Danish international goalscoring record (as he has done for eighteen months since the last time he scored an international goal) stepped up and hit a weak shot which Kawashimsa saved. The rebound came back to Tomasson who, somehow manged to bundle the ball into the net and injure himself at the same time. It's been that sort of tournament for poor old Jon. Meanwhile, the Dutch had taken the lead again (Huntelaar). Three minutes from the end, the very impressive Honda set up Okazaki for a third for the Japanese. Entirely deserved too. And that's the way it finished in both matches. Seven goals, lots of skill. There are worse ways to spend an evening.
Goals: 95
Red Cards: 12
The Netherlands v Cameroon
In a last-minute switch of main matches, BBC1 decided to go with Denmark. Gary Lineker summed up the mathematics involved in the group situation whilst Happy Harry the Hamster merely looked confused and, when asked his opinion of the Italians, muttered some crass monosyllabic platitudes ('they'll be gutted, Gary. Cos, you know, they're, like, proud, you know?') I decided, therefore, to try BBC3 for a while. after all, they were featuring my favourite international teams, the Dutch. Unfortunately, flicking over, I was presented with the horroshow of Mark Bright and Garth Crooks, not even given a BBC chair to sit on but forced to stand whilst they dibbled a load of stuff and nonsense about 'quality' and 'commitment.' 'The Dutch haven't impressed, yet,' said Bright. And, neither have you, you depressing inarticulate non-entity. Switch. Back to the Danes and Japan, then. And, it looked almost immediately like I made the right choice. Japan were simply sensational in the first half. True the Danes looked slow, and ponderous and as thought it was they that only needed a draw to progress rather than their opponents. but that should take nothing away from Japan was scored two brilliant goals - both direct from free-kicks - and could have had a shedload more. It was a performance that had the panel purring at half time. And, if you've never heard Alan Shearer purr, it's really quite an experience.
Meanwhile, the Dutch had taken the lead against Cameron (Van Persie) and Kuyt had missed half-a-dozen sitters. So, no change there, then. 'Robin van Persie has scored for the Netherlands - and now Denmark need the same from his Arsenal team-mate Nicklas Bendtner. Is he out there though? I haven't seen him all game,' noted Martin Keown. At half-time, the BBC showed a trailer for Saturday's Doctor Who season finale. 'Big weekend of telly,' noted Gary. I turned over to BBC3 and Mark Bright was spewing diarrhoea and Crooks was looking pissed off that he couldn't get a word in edgeways. Back to BBC1. Switch. God bless whomsoever invented the remote control.
Second-half. Thomas Sorenson, who I've always considered to be a pretty good goalkeeper, was having a right 'mare. Almost presented Japan with a third. A highlight of the second-half, in which a knackerless Denmark never looked remotely threatening, was Keown making a bid of the World Cup's single most tasteless comment: 'It's going to be an aerial bombardment now.' Well done, Martin. Over in Cape Town the Macaroons got a penalty and Eto'o scored. The Dutch looked ... mildly erked. Rigobert Song, with dyed-blond hair and beard that Mark Lawrenson thought made him 'look like King Neptune,' came on as substitute. Back to Denmark and, finally, ten minutes from the end, they were awarded a penalty. Jon Dahl Tomasson, still needing one goal to equal the Danish international goalscoring record (as he has done for eighteen months since the last time he scored an international goal) stepped up and hit a weak shot which Kawashimsa saved. The rebound came back to Tomasson who, somehow manged to bundle the ball into the net and injure himself at the same time. It's been that sort of tournament for poor old Jon. Meanwhile, the Dutch had taken the lead again (Huntelaar). Three minutes from the end, the very impressive Honda set up Okazaki for a third for the Japanese. Entirely deserved too. And that's the way it finished in both matches. Seven goals, lots of skill. There are worse ways to spend an evening.
Goals: 95
Red Cards: 12
Day 16: Second Round
'Don't you just love the World Cup?' asked Adrian Chiles introducing ITV's coverage of Uruguay v South Korea. Yeah. pretty much. except for the bits you've presented, anyway. To prove a point, he then pushed a cricketing metaphor towards clearly startled Edgar Davids who, nevertheless, straight-batted in back like Geoffrey Boycott on a seventeen hour marathon at Headingley.
U-Are-Gays v The Bit of Korea Everybody Likes
I didn't really expect much from this one, to be honest. And, I'm not really sure why. Uruguay have looked like a fine side in the tournmanet so far and the Koreans are always bright and energetic. It got off to a cracking start, though. In the first eight minutes we had more action that Switzerland, for example, managed in three games. By the time, the Koreans had hit the post and then, almost immediately, Uruguay went up the other end and scored. Young Suarez got it, who looks a terrific player if, at a times, one who suffers a bit form 'headless chicken syndrome.' But, prompted by the excellent Forlan (who looks nothing like the fraction of a player he did when representing The Scum), they were neat, passed the ball well, and looks sharp and incisive. And dangerous coming forward. This wasn't like the Uruguay we all know and loathe at all! Typically, in the second half, they reverted to type somewhat - sitting deep and depending on a strtong defence (notably the impressive Lugano). But, this invited their opponents on and a better side that Korea would probably have been level long before Notlobber Lee Chung-Yong got his head on on the ball after the Uruguayans failed to clear a free-kick. For the next ten minutes, it was all Korea. If there was going to be a winner, one sensed, them it would come from the distant east.
Until Suarez scored again.
That's the trouble with predicting thems. One is seldom right.
Goals: 104
Red Cards: 13
'Don't you just love the World Cup?' asked Adrian Chiles introducing ITV's coverage of Uruguay v South Korea. Yeah. pretty much. except for the bits you've presented, anyway. To prove a point, he then pushed a cricketing metaphor towards clearly startled Edgar Davids who, nevertheless, straight-batted in back like Geoffrey Boycott on a seventeen hour marathon at Headingley.
U-Are-Gays v The Bit of Korea Everybody Likes
I didn't really expect much from this one, to be honest. And, I'm not really sure why. Uruguay have looked like a fine side in the tournmanet so far and the Koreans are always bright and energetic. It got off to a cracking start, though. In the first eight minutes we had more action that Switzerland, for example, managed in three games. By the time, the Koreans had hit the post and then, almost immediately, Uruguay went up the other end and scored. Young Suarez got it, who looks a terrific player if, at a times, one who suffers a bit form 'headless chicken syndrome.' But, prompted by the excellent Forlan (who looks nothing like the fraction of a player he did when representing The Scum), they were neat, passed the ball well, and looks sharp and incisive. And dangerous coming forward. This wasn't like the Uruguay we all know and loathe at all! Typically, in the second half, they reverted to type somewhat - sitting deep and depending on a strtong defence (notably the impressive Lugano). But, this invited their opponents on and a better side that Korea would probably have been level long before Notlobber Lee Chung-Yong got his head on on the ball after the Uruguayans failed to clear a free-kick. For the next ten minutes, it was all Korea. If there was going to be a winner, one sensed, them it would come from the distant east.
Until Suarez scored again.
That's the trouble with predicting thems. One is seldom right.
Goals: 104
Red Cards: 13
You-Ess-Ay v Ghana
Well, I'll be honest, I missed all of the build up and, indeed, about the first quarter of an hour of this. Judging by the looks on the faces of Bill Clinton and Mick Jagger in the crowd (I'm not making this up, honest!) I didn't miss much. But then, by that time Ghana had only bleedin' went and scored, didn't they? Ricardo Clark lost the ball on the halfway line and Kevin-Prince Boateng raced through, seeing off Jay DeMerit and getting to the edge of the box where he slammed a low left-foot shot into the bottom corner. Yesh! What a start for the Africans. The rest of the half was crap. Half-time was boring. Is Kevin Keegan ever going to say anything interesting ever again. Don't get me wrong, I've never been happier than when he was managing my club (first time around, anyway). But, he's not a pundit, these days, he's a walking hairdo. Mind you, he's still a million times preferable to Southgate who could bore for England, Great Britain, Europe, the Commonwealth and, indeed, the world.
The Goddamn Yankies circled the wagons, got off their horse, drank their milk and equalised - Donovan scoring from a penalty after Clint Eastwood (or someone) had been brought down. After that ... not much happened really and so, for the first time in the 2010 World Cup (but, not I'm suspecting, the last) we went to extra time. And, suddenly, it was all Ghana again. A long ball from the back from Andre Ayew saw big hard Gyan battling with Carlos Bocanegra and despite a little push from the defender, he kept his composure to smash a left-foot shot past Tim Howard from the edge of the box. Given that a recent, former, President of their opponents seemed to believe that Africa was a country rather than a continent, you could probably tell which way most of the local support was leaning. The second half of extra was, actually, something of a non event. Two tired teams looking like a pair of prize fighters missing with every punch in the final round. There was some keeper-up-the-pitch shenanigans in the last minute but Ghana had enough and held on. 'Bye, bye, big American sigh' said Peter Drury with comic timing I wouldn't have given him credit for.
Goals: 104
Red Cards: 13
Well, I'll be honest, I missed all of the build up and, indeed, about the first quarter of an hour of this. Judging by the looks on the faces of Bill Clinton and Mick Jagger in the crowd (I'm not making this up, honest!) I didn't miss much. But then, by that time Ghana had only bleedin' went and scored, didn't they? Ricardo Clark lost the ball on the halfway line and Kevin-Prince Boateng raced through, seeing off Jay DeMerit and getting to the edge of the box where he slammed a low left-foot shot into the bottom corner. Yesh! What a start for the Africans. The rest of the half was crap. Half-time was boring. Is Kevin Keegan ever going to say anything interesting ever again. Don't get me wrong, I've never been happier than when he was managing my club (first time around, anyway). But, he's not a pundit, these days, he's a walking hairdo. Mind you, he's still a million times preferable to Southgate who could bore for England, Great Britain, Europe, the Commonwealth and, indeed, the world.
The Goddamn Yankies circled the wagons, got off their horse, drank their milk and equalised - Donovan scoring from a penalty after Clint Eastwood (or someone) had been brought down. After that ... not much happened really and so, for the first time in the 2010 World Cup (but, not I'm suspecting, the last) we went to extra time. And, suddenly, it was all Ghana again. A long ball from the back from Andre Ayew saw big hard Gyan battling with Carlos Bocanegra and despite a little push from the defender, he kept his composure to smash a left-foot shot past Tim Howard from the edge of the box. Given that a recent, former, President of their opponents seemed to believe that Africa was a country rather than a continent, you could probably tell which way most of the local support was leaning. The second half of extra was, actually, something of a non event. Two tired teams looking like a pair of prize fighters missing with every punch in the final round. There was some keeper-up-the-pitch shenanigans in the last minute but Ghana had enough and held on. 'Bye, bye, big American sigh' said Peter Drury with comic timing I wouldn't have given him credit for.
Goals: 104
Red Cards: 13
Tommies v Jerries
And, that's the last war metaphor I intend to use for this World Cup. From now on, it's the armistace.
So, here you go - the ultimate issue of a sports fan in Great British: England v Germany on BBC1 in the ofotball or England v Australia on Sky Sporots at cricket. Aw, come on. Not fair. Not fair at all. The BBC spent an hour bigging up a game that, really, genuinely, needed no bigging up. Shearer's comment that for the first time since he retired he wished he was back out on the pitch seemed sincere and genuine. There really is something about England v Germany games (at least, for the English) that sets the pulse racing. Snd, speaking of racing, there was a bad omen before the match when, over on BBC2, Sebastian Vettel was beating Lewis and Jensen in the Grand Prix.
For thirty minutes, England were awful. Apocalyptically awful. I mean, dire. Worse than Algeria. Rooney couldn't hit a pass to another red shirt to save his life (and he wasn't the only one, either), Barry constantly lost Ozil (the best player on the pitch at that stage). Oh, and they were two-nil down thanks to some of the worst defending from England I've ever seen. Firstly Neuer's long goalkick sailed over John Terry's head and Miroslav Klose showed great strength and coolness to hold off Matthew Upson and poke the ball past David James. Klose was held and could easily have gone down and Upson would have been sent off but, credit to Klose, he stayed on his feet to score his fiftieth international goal. 'You will never, ever see two centre-halves in a worse position than when Germany scored their first goal, I promise you,' noted Hansen at half-time. And, I believe him. Then, the got worst as England's defence crumbled into absolute shambles for a second time. Germany attacked down the right and one clever flick from Klose teef up Thomas Mueller. With England's central defenders nowhere to be seen Mueller played it over the top to Podolski and from a tight angle on the left of the six-yard box, he scored. If, at that moment, you'd put all of the England team - with the possible exception of Calamity himself - into a big bag and hit it, hard, with a stick, covered in ¤¤¤¤, you'd have hurt someone who thoroughly deserved it. For the next five minutes, I think most of us would happily have taken two-nil to avoid any further embarrassment and just slunk off into a dark corner to lick our wounds and dream of 1966. There looked no way back for England. When was the last time you can remember a German team surrendering a two goal lead?
What happened next was not in the script ... on thirty seven minutes, Steven Gerrard flung over a cross from the England right and with Neuer all over the place, Upson - who'd had a wretched game up to that point - got a head on the ball and it looped into the empty net. Now, it was Germany who were rocking. And then, it happened. The moment that, for better or worse, is probably destined to be this World Cup's most remembered incident. Frank Lampard hit a shot from outside the area. It beat Neuer, bounced off the underside of the bar and about two feet - at least - over the line. I mean, it wasn't even close. It isn't given. The first person to say 'that's pay back for 1966' will be spanked with a wet kipper. Don't worry, Guy Mowbray beat you all to it, by a distance. He and Mark Lawrenson then spent the rest of the half whinging about the manifest unfairness of life. How it's all Sepp Blatter's fault and why is it a Uruguayan linesman instead of an Azerbaijani one?
Half-time with Gary and the panel was a curious mixture of dejection, apoplexy at all things Uruguyans (and Swiss!) and testosterone snorting 'up-and-at-'em' rhetoric). The latter mostly from Shearer. England came out for the second-half breathing fire and brimstone. Lampard hit the bar from a thirty yard free-kick with Neuer hopelessly beaten. Defoe almost got on the end of a delicate through-ball. But, every time the Germans got the ball in the English half, there was panic written all over the face of every Englishman in the world. And, particularly, those on the pitch. And, when Gareth Barry stupidly lost the ball on the edge of the German area, a devastating three-against-two counter-attack ended with Mueller scoring the Germans third. Two minutes later it happened again and, again, Barry was at fault, skinned by Ozil down the left. A simple ball into the box and Mueller made it four. Capello's response? Send for Heskey. I'm not one, normally, to agree with anything Happy Harry the Hamster chimes up with but the dripping sarcasm in his voice when he noted 'we need a goal so we take Jermaine Defoe off and bring on Heskey,' spoke volumes. The inquest, it seemed, had started early. There were shots of some very pissed off people in fancy dress in the crowd and one or two of a very pissed off Italian on the bench as the Germans played keep-ball and the crowd started doing the ole's! 'Whatever you think of England as a potent attacking force, you cannot defend like that at this level,' noted Lawrenson, with a mixture of incredulity and more incredulity.
So, are the Germans as good as the scoreline here will suggest or was it England were THat BAD? Again, probably, a bit of both. They're a very young side, they seem to have a dodgy keeper and, if you get at them, they're not infallible at the back. But, coming forward, they're frightening and they're only going to get better. For England, the so called Golden Generation were, once again, more like Golden Showers of ¤¤¤¤e. Much-vaunted, much-hyped, much-paid, not one of them, not a single one, will end their careers having got any further than a quarter final of a major tournament. The plus points? A thirty nine year old keeper who did little wrong ... and that's about it. I'd poo-pah'd the idea that anybody would be doing any thrashing in this game, based on precedent and that fact that although the English and crave disappointment, you can usual manage not to let many goals in. Today is as much a blow for English ideas of invincibility as Dunkirk. Ooops. War metaphor. I said I wouldn't do any of those. No bottle, no class, no luck (admittedly) but no style or flair, either. There'll be dancing in the straße tonight. Achtung, baby.
Goals: 112
Red Cards: 13
And, that's the last war metaphor I intend to use for this World Cup. From now on, it's the armistace.
So, here you go - the ultimate issue of a sports fan in Great British: England v Germany on BBC1 in the ofotball or England v Australia on Sky Sporots at cricket. Aw, come on. Not fair. Not fair at all. The BBC spent an hour bigging up a game that, really, genuinely, needed no bigging up. Shearer's comment that for the first time since he retired he wished he was back out on the pitch seemed sincere and genuine. There really is something about England v Germany games (at least, for the English) that sets the pulse racing. Snd, speaking of racing, there was a bad omen before the match when, over on BBC2, Sebastian Vettel was beating Lewis and Jensen in the Grand Prix.
For thirty minutes, England were awful. Apocalyptically awful. I mean, dire. Worse than Algeria. Rooney couldn't hit a pass to another red shirt to save his life (and he wasn't the only one, either), Barry constantly lost Ozil (the best player on the pitch at that stage). Oh, and they were two-nil down thanks to some of the worst defending from England I've ever seen. Firstly Neuer's long goalkick sailed over John Terry's head and Miroslav Klose showed great strength and coolness to hold off Matthew Upson and poke the ball past David James. Klose was held and could easily have gone down and Upson would have been sent off but, credit to Klose, he stayed on his feet to score his fiftieth international goal. 'You will never, ever see two centre-halves in a worse position than when Germany scored their first goal, I promise you,' noted Hansen at half-time. And, I believe him. Then, the got worst as England's defence crumbled into absolute shambles for a second time. Germany attacked down the right and one clever flick from Klose teef up Thomas Mueller. With England's central defenders nowhere to be seen Mueller played it over the top to Podolski and from a tight angle on the left of the six-yard box, he scored. If, at that moment, you'd put all of the England team - with the possible exception of Calamity himself - into a big bag and hit it, hard, with a stick, covered in ¤¤¤¤, you'd have hurt someone who thoroughly deserved it. For the next five minutes, I think most of us would happily have taken two-nil to avoid any further embarrassment and just slunk off into a dark corner to lick our wounds and dream of 1966. There looked no way back for England. When was the last time you can remember a German team surrendering a two goal lead?
What happened next was not in the script ... on thirty seven minutes, Steven Gerrard flung over a cross from the England right and with Neuer all over the place, Upson - who'd had a wretched game up to that point - got a head on the ball and it looped into the empty net. Now, it was Germany who were rocking. And then, it happened. The moment that, for better or worse, is probably destined to be this World Cup's most remembered incident. Frank Lampard hit a shot from outside the area. It beat Neuer, bounced off the underside of the bar and about two feet - at least - over the line. I mean, it wasn't even close. It isn't given. The first person to say 'that's pay back for 1966' will be spanked with a wet kipper. Don't worry, Guy Mowbray beat you all to it, by a distance. He and Mark Lawrenson then spent the rest of the half whinging about the manifest unfairness of life. How it's all Sepp Blatter's fault and why is it a Uruguayan linesman instead of an Azerbaijani one?
Half-time with Gary and the panel was a curious mixture of dejection, apoplexy at all things Uruguyans (and Swiss!) and testosterone snorting 'up-and-at-'em' rhetoric). The latter mostly from Shearer. England came out for the second-half breathing fire and brimstone. Lampard hit the bar from a thirty yard free-kick with Neuer hopelessly beaten. Defoe almost got on the end of a delicate through-ball. But, every time the Germans got the ball in the English half, there was panic written all over the face of every Englishman in the world. And, particularly, those on the pitch. And, when Gareth Barry stupidly lost the ball on the edge of the German area, a devastating three-against-two counter-attack ended with Mueller scoring the Germans third. Two minutes later it happened again and, again, Barry was at fault, skinned by Ozil down the left. A simple ball into the box and Mueller made it four. Capello's response? Send for Heskey. I'm not one, normally, to agree with anything Happy Harry the Hamster chimes up with but the dripping sarcasm in his voice when he noted 'we need a goal so we take Jermaine Defoe off and bring on Heskey,' spoke volumes. The inquest, it seemed, had started early. There were shots of some very pissed off people in fancy dress in the crowd and one or two of a very pissed off Italian on the bench as the Germans played keep-ball and the crowd started doing the ole's! 'Whatever you think of England as a potent attacking force, you cannot defend like that at this level,' noted Lawrenson, with a mixture of incredulity and more incredulity.
So, are the Germans as good as the scoreline here will suggest or was it England were THat BAD? Again, probably, a bit of both. They're a very young side, they seem to have a dodgy keeper and, if you get at them, they're not infallible at the back. But, coming forward, they're frightening and they're only going to get better. For England, the so called Golden Generation were, once again, more like Golden Showers of ¤¤¤¤e. Much-vaunted, much-hyped, much-paid, not one of them, not a single one, will end their careers having got any further than a quarter final of a major tournament. The plus points? A thirty nine year old keeper who did little wrong ... and that's about it. I'd poo-pah'd the idea that anybody would be doing any thrashing in this game, based on precedent and that fact that although the English and crave disappointment, you can usual manage not to let many goals in. Today is as much a blow for English ideas of invincibility as Dunkirk. Ooops. War metaphor. I said I wouldn't do any of those. No bottle, no class, no luck (admittedly) but no style or flair, either. There'll be dancing in the straße tonight. Achtung, baby.
Goals: 112
Red Cards: 13
Argentina v Mexico
Oh God, do we really need Jurgen Klinnsman bending over backwards to be magnanimous?! Mind you, for not letting Garth Crooks get a word in edgeways he should probably be awarded with a medal of some description. Ah well, it not the end of the world. End of the World Cup for some, maybe, but not the end of the world ... Steve Wilson kicked off coverage of this one with the worst pun of his career. 'Ein, zwei, drei, vier, thumped.' Okay, I smirked, briefly, I'll give you that one, Stevie.
Resisting the urge to watch Top Gear instead of this match (I recorded it for later) and chose to stick with the footie. And I'm really glad I did. Mexico almost scored twice in the opening ten minutes, including an amazing moment when Carlos Salcido hit the bar from distance. Then, to match the earlier controversy in the England game, we got some controversy here too. Lionel Messi put Tevez clear but Mexico keeper Oscar Perez came out and got their first. The ball came back to Messi, who chipped it goalwards but Tevez, who was miles offside, headed it in. despite Mexican protests the goal was given but then the referee conferred with his assistant as the incident had eben replayed on the huge screens at Soccer City Stadium and they both clearly saw that they'd got it wrong. However, the refused to change their minds and the goal stood. Are you watching Mr Blatter? Straight from the restart, Mexico's Rafael Marquez becomes the first man into referee Rosetti's book after catching Messi, the Mexicans clearly having a massive tortilla chip on their collective shoulder over the goal. Then, Ricardo Osorio had a complete nightmare passing a loose ball across defence without looking, and promptly played in Gonzalo Higuain, who couldn't believe his luck and rounded the keeper before slotting home.
At half-time we got a further impassioned plea for the use of technology from Alan Hansen before the incredible sight of a bunch of England players, clearly in denial, talking about having' dominated' the first twenty minutes of their game. Were playing in the same match we were watching?
Meanwhile, back in J'burg, we'd seen the first half end with a right bit of rive-on and, amazingly, Maradona trying to act as peacemaker between two very stroppy sets of players and the potential for kids getting sparked an all sorts. It was quite a sight. In the second half, Tevez got another - a beauty. No argument about that one. Mexico did pull one back with twenty minutes left - another cracker from Javier Hernandez - but I missed that one. I'd gone to Top Gear for a few moments. Well, hippies and Communists hate it so it must be doing something right. Messi almost added a fourth in the final moments but Perez made a fine save. So, it's the Argies and Ze Chermans in the quarters. Again.
Goals: 116
Red Cards: 13
Oh God, do we really need Jurgen Klinnsman bending over backwards to be magnanimous?! Mind you, for not letting Garth Crooks get a word in edgeways he should probably be awarded with a medal of some description. Ah well, it not the end of the world. End of the World Cup for some, maybe, but not the end of the world ... Steve Wilson kicked off coverage of this one with the worst pun of his career. 'Ein, zwei, drei, vier, thumped.' Okay, I smirked, briefly, I'll give you that one, Stevie.
Resisting the urge to watch Top Gear instead of this match (I recorded it for later) and chose to stick with the footie. And I'm really glad I did. Mexico almost scored twice in the opening ten minutes, including an amazing moment when Carlos Salcido hit the bar from distance. Then, to match the earlier controversy in the England game, we got some controversy here too. Lionel Messi put Tevez clear but Mexico keeper Oscar Perez came out and got their first. The ball came back to Messi, who chipped it goalwards but Tevez, who was miles offside, headed it in. despite Mexican protests the goal was given but then the referee conferred with his assistant as the incident had eben replayed on the huge screens at Soccer City Stadium and they both clearly saw that they'd got it wrong. However, the refused to change their minds and the goal stood. Are you watching Mr Blatter? Straight from the restart, Mexico's Rafael Marquez becomes the first man into referee Rosetti's book after catching Messi, the Mexicans clearly having a massive tortilla chip on their collective shoulder over the goal. Then, Ricardo Osorio had a complete nightmare passing a loose ball across defence without looking, and promptly played in Gonzalo Higuain, who couldn't believe his luck and rounded the keeper before slotting home.
At half-time we got a further impassioned plea for the use of technology from Alan Hansen before the incredible sight of a bunch of England players, clearly in denial, talking about having' dominated' the first twenty minutes of their game. Were playing in the same match we were watching?
Meanwhile, back in J'burg, we'd seen the first half end with a right bit of rive-on and, amazingly, Maradona trying to act as peacemaker between two very stroppy sets of players and the potential for kids getting sparked an all sorts. It was quite a sight. In the second half, Tevez got another - a beauty. No argument about that one. Mexico did pull one back with twenty minutes left - another cracker from Javier Hernandez - but I missed that one. I'd gone to Top Gear for a few moments. Well, hippies and Communists hate it so it must be doing something right. Messi almost added a fourth in the final moments but Perez made a fine save. So, it's the Argies and Ze Chermans in the quarters. Again.
Goals: 116
Red Cards: 13
The Netherland v Slovakia
The BBC kicked off their coverage with a Clarence Seedorf history lesson on Total Football with a Gil Scott Heron soundtrack. Nice. Gary, Lee and Alan manfully turned up with false smiles plastered all over their faces after yesterday's debacle.
What they had to watch was terrific for the most part. A great first half, at least - technically a joy to watch. The fact that the Dutch were only one up - thanks to a spanker from Robben - doesn't tell half the story. 'The Dutch are really patient but Slovakia are defending in numbers and making them play the long ball which they don't like,' noted seedorf. 'The Netherlands are well-organised too when they are defending, and that is hard to get through. I don't think Slovakia have the quality they need to break them down.' Shearer agreed: 'The Dutch haven't really had to get out of first gear yet. They are very methodical and hard-working but it is too easy for them at the moment because Slovakia are so poor.' It was a day for motor metaphors, clearly, Simon Brothertone suggesting the Dutch had 'played with the hand-brake on so far.'
But, the start of the second half was even better, as the vuvuzelas got louder, there were constant waves of Oranj shirts towards the Slovak goal. Three times in about five minutes Robben, van Persie and then Sneijder almost doubled the lead. But the logner it went on the more you felt Slovakia might just get back into this and, sure enough, twenty minutes from the end, Vittek had a great chance to level, Stekelenburg making his first real save of the match from point-blank range. Then we got a touch of the old Dutch magic - Van Persie taking a right stroppy hissy-fit when he got substituted. Ah, just like the old days! With eight minutes left, a quickly taken free-kick saw Kypt setting up Sneijder for 2-0 to finally put the game to bed. Neither Skrtel, against whom the kick was given and Vladimir Weiss were non-too-happy, the latter having a right pop at the referee Alberto Undiano, who simply waved him back towards his dug-out with a dismissive flick of the wrist.
And so the Dutch are in the quarter final and still, you sense, that's a lot more from them to come. 'Maybe they are saving themselves for the later stages rather than playing like a football version of the Harlem Globetrotters early on and then going out just when we thought they'd finally cracked it, like in the last two tournaments,' noted Brother Brotherton. Amen to that.
Right at the death the Slovaks got a penalty and Vittek score with the last kick of the game. Too little, too late.
Goals: 119
Red Cards: 13
The BBC kicked off their coverage with a Clarence Seedorf history lesson on Total Football with a Gil Scott Heron soundtrack. Nice. Gary, Lee and Alan manfully turned up with false smiles plastered all over their faces after yesterday's debacle.
What they had to watch was terrific for the most part. A great first half, at least - technically a joy to watch. The fact that the Dutch were only one up - thanks to a spanker from Robben - doesn't tell half the story. 'The Dutch are really patient but Slovakia are defending in numbers and making them play the long ball which they don't like,' noted seedorf. 'The Netherlands are well-organised too when they are defending, and that is hard to get through. I don't think Slovakia have the quality they need to break them down.' Shearer agreed: 'The Dutch haven't really had to get out of first gear yet. They are very methodical and hard-working but it is too easy for them at the moment because Slovakia are so poor.' It was a day for motor metaphors, clearly, Simon Brothertone suggesting the Dutch had 'played with the hand-brake on so far.'
But, the start of the second half was even better, as the vuvuzelas got louder, there were constant waves of Oranj shirts towards the Slovak goal. Three times in about five minutes Robben, van Persie and then Sneijder almost doubled the lead. But the logner it went on the more you felt Slovakia might just get back into this and, sure enough, twenty minutes from the end, Vittek had a great chance to level, Stekelenburg making his first real save of the match from point-blank range. Then we got a touch of the old Dutch magic - Van Persie taking a right stroppy hissy-fit when he got substituted. Ah, just like the old days! With eight minutes left, a quickly taken free-kick saw Kypt setting up Sneijder for 2-0 to finally put the game to bed. Neither Skrtel, against whom the kick was given and Vladimir Weiss were non-too-happy, the latter having a right pop at the referee Alberto Undiano, who simply waved him back towards his dug-out with a dismissive flick of the wrist.
And so the Dutch are in the quarter final and still, you sense, that's a lot more from them to come. 'Maybe they are saving themselves for the later stages rather than playing like a football version of the Harlem Globetrotters early on and then going out just when we thought they'd finally cracked it, like in the last two tournaments,' noted Brother Brotherton. Amen to that.
Right at the death the Slovaks got a penalty and Vittek score with the last kick of the game. Too little, too late.
Goals: 119
Red Cards: 13
Brazil v Chile
After three successive matches on the BBC one forgets just how crass, bland and rubbish ITV's coverage has been at this World Cup. Chiles ranted a bit about England like a spoiled child and then opened the discussion up to the panel. Well, to Townsend and Southgate as Desailly looked about as interesetd as a very disintered thing. Andy Townsend doesn't half talk some ¤¤¤¤e at times. He went into a lengthy rant about how the players were blameless and it was all the manager's fault. It was, then, genuinely lovely to see him getting slapped down with a bit of Southgate logic. 'We failed to qualify for the European Championships, everybody blames McLaren. He gets the sack, goes off and manages PSV to the championship in Holland. Now, the same players have gone out of this World Cup and you're talking about blaming Capello, somebody who's won everything there is to win.' Yes! Yes, Gareth Southgate! Testify, brother.
We went to the stadium where Tyldesley informed us that Howard Webb and his team were taking chareg of their third game at the tournament and that hey seemed to be highly thought of within FIFA. 'England might get to the final yet,' he concluded as though that's supposed to make us feel proud, or something. Haven't we suffered enough already, Clive. And then there was the game. Hyped up as the potential match of the cup so far, the first half hour was dull and flat and produced not much, frankly. Then, typically, just as I was on the verge of giving up on it and switching over to Tiem Team, Brazil scored twice in five minutes; a header by Juan from a corner and a Luis Fabiano goal after a swift bit of counter-attacking by Kaka and Robinho. So much for 'Dunga's dull Brazil'!
Is it just me or are the trails for James Corden's thing getting more and more pleading? 'Yeah, England are gone but we've got Ruth Jones on!' Thanks for the warning, fat boy.
Anyway, second-half, Brazil strutted around like the owned the gaff and you sensed they could score whenever they fancied it. Robinho added a third after a mazy run from the impressive Ramires. Thereafter it was just a case of did Chile fancy battling to keep it at three. They did, and good on 'em for that. By the end, the television director was reduced to showing us pictures of pretty Brazilian female fans celebrating around Ellis Park. Don't they ever get tired of that?
No. of course they don't. Beat out the Samba rhythm in Rio, football's coming home.
Goals: 122
Red Cards: 13
After three successive matches on the BBC one forgets just how crass, bland and rubbish ITV's coverage has been at this World Cup. Chiles ranted a bit about England like a spoiled child and then opened the discussion up to the panel. Well, to Townsend and Southgate as Desailly looked about as interesetd as a very disintered thing. Andy Townsend doesn't half talk some ¤¤¤¤e at times. He went into a lengthy rant about how the players were blameless and it was all the manager's fault. It was, then, genuinely lovely to see him getting slapped down with a bit of Southgate logic. 'We failed to qualify for the European Championships, everybody blames McLaren. He gets the sack, goes off and manages PSV to the championship in Holland. Now, the same players have gone out of this World Cup and you're talking about blaming Capello, somebody who's won everything there is to win.' Yes! Yes, Gareth Southgate! Testify, brother.
We went to the stadium where Tyldesley informed us that Howard Webb and his team were taking chareg of their third game at the tournament and that hey seemed to be highly thought of within FIFA. 'England might get to the final yet,' he concluded as though that's supposed to make us feel proud, or something. Haven't we suffered enough already, Clive. And then there was the game. Hyped up as the potential match of the cup so far, the first half hour was dull and flat and produced not much, frankly. Then, typically, just as I was on the verge of giving up on it and switching over to Tiem Team, Brazil scored twice in five minutes; a header by Juan from a corner and a Luis Fabiano goal after a swift bit of counter-attacking by Kaka and Robinho. So much for 'Dunga's dull Brazil'!
Is it just me or are the trails for James Corden's thing getting more and more pleading? 'Yeah, England are gone but we've got Ruth Jones on!' Thanks for the warning, fat boy.
Anyway, second-half, Brazil strutted around like the owned the gaff and you sensed they could score whenever they fancied it. Robinho added a third after a mazy run from the impressive Ramires. Thereafter it was just a case of did Chile fancy battling to keep it at three. They did, and good on 'em for that. By the end, the television director was reduced to showing us pictures of pretty Brazilian female fans celebrating around Ellis Park. Don't they ever get tired of that?
No. of course they don't. Beat out the Samba rhythm in Rio, football's coming home.
Goals: 122
Red Cards: 13
Para-Guys v Japan
Nah. Couldn't be bothered. For the first time in nearly three weeks there was a match that, actually, defeated my concerted attempts to get enthusiastic about it. Even Roque Santa Cruz missing an open goal in the first-half didn't do anything to lighten my mood of singular introspection. I mean, it was on ITV for a start so that was piss-awful presentation to put up with. Then, the director clearly found the match so boring that he start concentrating instead on 'wacky' fans in the crowd - particularly one little Japanese fellah who just needed a good slap for his antics.
Half-time passed in a kind of haze of utter indifference. Even Jim Beglin couldn't find much to get enthused about in this one. It was just dull. two sides who'd probably slightly overachieved to get this far suddenly realising they're one clear sheet away from a Wolrd Cup quarter final. It was a recipe for this year's Switzerland v Ukraine. yes, it really was that horrible. As we got yet another shot of the stern-faced Japan coach a few minutes from the end (the one who always looks like he's about to tell Alec Guiinness 'YOU BUILD BRIDGE NOW!') a stray though struck me. THIS IS JUST ¤¤¤¤! I mean, dreadful. Easily the worst game of the tournament so far - largely because you knew that both sides were capable of more. We'd seen them produce more just a few days ago. With seconds to go Nakamura just failed to connect with a cross but, to be honest, a winner at that stage - though a blessing - would've been unjst. 'You get one of these in every world cup, Peter' Beglin told Drury. 'And, we've copped it today!'
Extra time was no better. Did Adrian Voodoo Chile really say at the break, 'that was slightly better'? Than what, Adie, colon cancer? The last few minutes were like watching treacle set. 'The inevitable looms' said Jim Beglin, ominously.
So, Townsend wittered on about some crap or other that nobody cares about, Southgate neatly avoided the highlight of HIS career in penalties. The referee seemed to want to milk every nano-second of drama out of the tedious ritual of tossing a coin. The Para-guys went first: Barreto buried his. Endo did likewise. Barrios stuck his away. Hasebe went high and equalised as his stern-faced manager looked on, unimpressed. Riveros - Mackem bound - rolled one straight down the middle as Kawashima dived out of the way. Komano's arse fell out and he hit the bar. Valdez was cool, clinical and it was 4-2. Hondo was composure itself. Cardozo stepped up and Paraguay were through.
Thank God that's over.
Goals: 122
Red Cards: 13
Nah. Couldn't be bothered. For the first time in nearly three weeks there was a match that, actually, defeated my concerted attempts to get enthusiastic about it. Even Roque Santa Cruz missing an open goal in the first-half didn't do anything to lighten my mood of singular introspection. I mean, it was on ITV for a start so that was piss-awful presentation to put up with. Then, the director clearly found the match so boring that he start concentrating instead on 'wacky' fans in the crowd - particularly one little Japanese fellah who just needed a good slap for his antics.
Half-time passed in a kind of haze of utter indifference. Even Jim Beglin couldn't find much to get enthused about in this one. It was just dull. two sides who'd probably slightly overachieved to get this far suddenly realising they're one clear sheet away from a Wolrd Cup quarter final. It was a recipe for this year's Switzerland v Ukraine. yes, it really was that horrible. As we got yet another shot of the stern-faced Japan coach a few minutes from the end (the one who always looks like he's about to tell Alec Guiinness 'YOU BUILD BRIDGE NOW!') a stray though struck me. THIS IS JUST ¤¤¤¤! I mean, dreadful. Easily the worst game of the tournament so far - largely because you knew that both sides were capable of more. We'd seen them produce more just a few days ago. With seconds to go Nakamura just failed to connect with a cross but, to be honest, a winner at that stage - though a blessing - would've been unjst. 'You get one of these in every world cup, Peter' Beglin told Drury. 'And, we've copped it today!'
Extra time was no better. Did Adrian Voodoo Chile really say at the break, 'that was slightly better'? Than what, Adie, colon cancer? The last few minutes were like watching treacle set. 'The inevitable looms' said Jim Beglin, ominously.
So, Townsend wittered on about some crap or other that nobody cares about, Southgate neatly avoided the highlight of HIS career in penalties. The referee seemed to want to milk every nano-second of drama out of the tedious ritual of tossing a coin. The Para-guys went first: Barreto buried his. Endo did likewise. Barrios stuck his away. Hasebe went high and equalised as his stern-faced manager looked on, unimpressed. Riveros - Mackem bound - rolled one straight down the middle as Kawashima dived out of the way. Komano's arse fell out and he hit the bar. Valdez was cool, clinical and it was 4-2. Hondo was composure itself. Cardozo stepped up and Paraguay were through.
Thank God that's over.
Goals: 122
Red Cards: 13
Spain v Portugal
The second match should've been more appealing - two quality sides, one of which I really like, the other whom I loathe like something I have to scrape off the soul of my shoe with a stick. The BBC did their best, bringing in Klinsmann to be entertaining and getting Seedorf to do another one of his reportage pieces (this one a rather tenuous one comparing the match to The Rumble In The Jungle). But, it all started to go wrong the second Colin Murray and his irritating voice interviewed Shearer and Alan did take the chance to elbow him in the face. Missed opportunity there, Big'un. But the game started like neither side particularly wanted to go for it and the first fifteen minutes was almost as slow as the earlier game. More skill, obviously. But, little to get thrilled about. 'Ronaldo cut a dejected figure at the end of that awful game against Brazil,' according to Jonny Pearce. Any chance of an encore tonight? Please? You know, if Puyol could still run more than five yards without looking knackered, like he used to, he'd be the perfect defender! Spain's problem, frankly, was most of the players you'd really want to be top of their game in a match like this - Iniesta, Torres, Villa, Xavi - just looked a bit off the pace. Or, in Torres case, a LOT off the pace.
Half-time was mostly taken up with - yet another - discussion on technology. Klinnsman was thoughtful and articulate, so was Seedorf. Hansen grunted a few times and said 'unbelieavable'! The second-half began with Portugal - by a distance - the more likely to score. Then came the moment that changed the game. del Bosque took off the very ineffective Torres and brought on Llorente whilst, at exactly the same moment, Carlos Queiroz inexplicably swapped the impressive, dangerous Almeida for Danny. Within minutes, Spain had three great chances, David Villa taking the third of them. The scowling look on Ronaldo's face as he jesticulated towards the bench asking for suggestions on what they do now was one of the 2010 World Cup's most satisfying moments. Queiroz tried a couple of further substitutions. '"I can only think that those changes are to try and get more service to Cristiano Ronaldo, because he hasn't had the ball at all,' noted Lawro. After that, the last twenty minutes were terrific, end to end stuff with chances at either end, a red card for Costa for what looked to be a nothing incident with Capdevila. And, there was the delicious sight of Ronaldo limping for no obvious reason and looking sorry for himself. Ah. Shame. Spain had, certainly, been the better side over all but, on this evidence, they're not world beaters and, more worryingly, their supposed 'best' team isn't, actually, looking like their best team. It ended with a bit of sour feeling bubbling beneath the surface.
Goals: 123
Red Cards: 14
The second match should've been more appealing - two quality sides, one of which I really like, the other whom I loathe like something I have to scrape off the soul of my shoe with a stick. The BBC did their best, bringing in Klinsmann to be entertaining and getting Seedorf to do another one of his reportage pieces (this one a rather tenuous one comparing the match to The Rumble In The Jungle). But, it all started to go wrong the second Colin Murray and his irritating voice interviewed Shearer and Alan did take the chance to elbow him in the face. Missed opportunity there, Big'un. But the game started like neither side particularly wanted to go for it and the first fifteen minutes was almost as slow as the earlier game. More skill, obviously. But, little to get thrilled about. 'Ronaldo cut a dejected figure at the end of that awful game against Brazil,' according to Jonny Pearce. Any chance of an encore tonight? Please? You know, if Puyol could still run more than five yards without looking knackered, like he used to, he'd be the perfect defender! Spain's problem, frankly, was most of the players you'd really want to be top of their game in a match like this - Iniesta, Torres, Villa, Xavi - just looked a bit off the pace. Or, in Torres case, a LOT off the pace.
Half-time was mostly taken up with - yet another - discussion on technology. Klinnsman was thoughtful and articulate, so was Seedorf. Hansen grunted a few times and said 'unbelieavable'! The second-half began with Portugal - by a distance - the more likely to score. Then came the moment that changed the game. del Bosque took off the very ineffective Torres and brought on Llorente whilst, at exactly the same moment, Carlos Queiroz inexplicably swapped the impressive, dangerous Almeida for Danny. Within minutes, Spain had three great chances, David Villa taking the third of them. The scowling look on Ronaldo's face as he jesticulated towards the bench asking for suggestions on what they do now was one of the 2010 World Cup's most satisfying moments. Queiroz tried a couple of further substitutions. '"I can only think that those changes are to try and get more service to Cristiano Ronaldo, because he hasn't had the ball at all,' noted Lawro. After that, the last twenty minutes were terrific, end to end stuff with chances at either end, a red card for Costa for what looked to be a nothing incident with Capdevila. And, there was the delicious sight of Ronaldo limping for no obvious reason and looking sorry for himself. Ah. Shame. Spain had, certainly, been the better side over all but, on this evidence, they're not world beaters and, more worryingly, their supposed 'best' team isn't, actually, looking like their best team. It ended with a bit of sour feeling bubbling beneath the surface.
Goals: 123
Red Cards: 14
Gravitational Pull's World Cup Diary - Day 20:
Today, there is no football.
Not a sausage.
Bugger all.
But, this is terrible. This cannot be allowed to stand.
Oh well ... back to the cricket, I suppose.
Today, there is no football.
Not a sausage.
Bugger all.
But, this is terrible. This cannot be allowed to stand.
Oh well ... back to the cricket, I suppose.
Day 22
Two days of hell passed in the wilderness. And then ...
The Netherlands vs Brazil
ITV started their coverage with the wholly expected 'Pele n Cruyff montage' before Andy Townsend started talking and I switched over, quickly, to the women's cricket on Sky Sports until he'd stopped. 'Oranges and lemons,' noted Peter Drury in a rather sweeping and grandiose scene-setting piece in which he noted 'a game, not for hard facts but for the imagination.' Well, hopefully. I had a feeling beforehand that this was either going to be the game of the tournament or the biggest single disappointment. There would be, you felt, little or middle ground. And, that's how it proved. The first half was fabulous - or, at least, the Brazilians were. The Dutch simply never got going. Van Persie was anonymous. Sneijder was anonymous. Everything went through Robben who, it seemed, has chosen today for his worst game in a good couple of years. By contrast, when the blue shirts swept forward, you sensed that danger could come from anywhere. It took them ten minutes to find a **** in the Dutch armour. Melo's pass found Robinho who, unchallenged, ran through to score. After that, it was all Brazil, the only black moment for them coming when Dunga's unhappiness at Michel Bastos getting a yellow card caused him to give his dugout a damned good fisting. Total football? Yeah. it was. The Dutch were being outplayed. Totally. If ever they needed van Marwijk to get out a big stick and start whacking some egos at half-time, today was that day. And then, out of absolutely nothing, the Dutch equalised. I didn't see that one coming - and neither, it would seem, did Julio Cesar! Wesley Sneijder curled over a left-footed cross from the Dutch right and Cesar, usually so reliable, came for it, flapped at it and the ball clipped the top of Felipe Melo's head before creeping into the corner. Game. As they say. On. Interestingly, just before the goal, Brazil should probably have been down to ten men as Bastos yet again kicked Robben up aheight having already been booked. The - other very impressive - Japanese referee, however, gave him the benefit of the doubt, much to Van Persie's obvious chagrin.
Brazil has bossed the game for just about the whole of the first fifty five minute but, suddenly, they found themselves behind. Robben sent over a corner from the right, Dirk Kuyt flicked it on at the near post and there was Wesley Sneijder at the back to head ut into the corner. Incredible. Unbelievable. Spirit of '74. Get yer Ajax and yer Wims out for the lads. Suddenly, less welcome reminders of that match at Dortmund in '74 were dragged to the forefront again when Felipe Melo had a mad Luis Pereira-moment and stamped on Robben for no obvious reason. A headstrong fragment of stupidity that earned him a deserved straight red card. Forget any idea about this being a disappointment, this was, indeed, the match of the tournament, by miles. Brazil threw caution to the wind and bravely mounted wave after wave of attacks with the Dutch sitting back but breaking intelligently with pace. it was thrilling stuff. The sort of final that we always hope for but never get. As the Dutch took control of the midfield, Brazil lost their shape and, with it, some of their composure although you always sensed they were good enough to go down the other end and score if they could only keep their heads. Van Persie went off five minutes from the end and, this time, didn't throw his dummy out of the pram. In the last five minutes nails were bitten, emotions tested, last-ditch tackles made. Jeez, if only the World Cup was always like this.
It's an Oranj world tonight! And a little boy who fell in love with Dutch football in 1974 could not, possibly, be happier.
Goals: 126
Red Cards: 15
Two days of hell passed in the wilderness. And then ...
The Netherlands vs Brazil
ITV started their coverage with the wholly expected 'Pele n Cruyff montage' before Andy Townsend started talking and I switched over, quickly, to the women's cricket on Sky Sports until he'd stopped. 'Oranges and lemons,' noted Peter Drury in a rather sweeping and grandiose scene-setting piece in which he noted 'a game, not for hard facts but for the imagination.' Well, hopefully. I had a feeling beforehand that this was either going to be the game of the tournament or the biggest single disappointment. There would be, you felt, little or middle ground. And, that's how it proved. The first half was fabulous - or, at least, the Brazilians were. The Dutch simply never got going. Van Persie was anonymous. Sneijder was anonymous. Everything went through Robben who, it seemed, has chosen today for his worst game in a good couple of years. By contrast, when the blue shirts swept forward, you sensed that danger could come from anywhere. It took them ten minutes to find a **** in the Dutch armour. Melo's pass found Robinho who, unchallenged, ran through to score. After that, it was all Brazil, the only black moment for them coming when Dunga's unhappiness at Michel Bastos getting a yellow card caused him to give his dugout a damned good fisting. Total football? Yeah. it was. The Dutch were being outplayed. Totally. If ever they needed van Marwijk to get out a big stick and start whacking some egos at half-time, today was that day. And then, out of absolutely nothing, the Dutch equalised. I didn't see that one coming - and neither, it would seem, did Julio Cesar! Wesley Sneijder curled over a left-footed cross from the Dutch right and Cesar, usually so reliable, came for it, flapped at it and the ball clipped the top of Felipe Melo's head before creeping into the corner. Game. As they say. On. Interestingly, just before the goal, Brazil should probably have been down to ten men as Bastos yet again kicked Robben up aheight having already been booked. The - other very impressive - Japanese referee, however, gave him the benefit of the doubt, much to Van Persie's obvious chagrin.
Brazil has bossed the game for just about the whole of the first fifty five minute but, suddenly, they found themselves behind. Robben sent over a corner from the right, Dirk Kuyt flicked it on at the near post and there was Wesley Sneijder at the back to head ut into the corner. Incredible. Unbelievable. Spirit of '74. Get yer Ajax and yer Wims out for the lads. Suddenly, less welcome reminders of that match at Dortmund in '74 were dragged to the forefront again when Felipe Melo had a mad Luis Pereira-moment and stamped on Robben for no obvious reason. A headstrong fragment of stupidity that earned him a deserved straight red card. Forget any idea about this being a disappointment, this was, indeed, the match of the tournament, by miles. Brazil threw caution to the wind and bravely mounted wave after wave of attacks with the Dutch sitting back but breaking intelligently with pace. it was thrilling stuff. The sort of final that we always hope for but never get. As the Dutch took control of the midfield, Brazil lost their shape and, with it, some of their composure although you always sensed they were good enough to go down the other end and score if they could only keep their heads. Van Persie went off five minutes from the end and, this time, didn't throw his dummy out of the pram. In the last five minutes nails were bitten, emotions tested, last-ditch tackles made. Jeez, if only the World Cup was always like this.
It's an Oranj world tonight! And a little boy who fell in love with Dutch football in 1974 could not, possibly, be happier.
Goals: 126
Red Cards: 15
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
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
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
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
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
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
Bl00dy hell G P, do your fingers ache ?
(excuse me for asking)
(excuse me for asking)
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
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
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
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
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
'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
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
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
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
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
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