[ There's Only One Way To Beat Them, Get Round The Back ]
Germany 1-1 Argentina (4-2 on penalties) The football's back! Woo hoo!
Following the smashing success of "I Think Brazil Are Going To Have Problems
Here", Blue Man Sings The Whites now proudly presents "I Think The Germans
Are Going To Win This". The reasoning here is threefold. a) Argentina have
looked fantastic against teams who stood off them and let them play (S&M, Holland)
but not half as good against teams determined to get at them (Ivory Coast, Mexico).
b) Germany seem to have plugged the major leak they had at the back (the high offside
trap) and have arguably even more firepower from midfield forward than Argentina
do. c) Given the Godawful standard of officiating in the tournament so far and the
fact that Sepp Blatter has gone out of his way to confuse the referees about what
they're meant to be doing, you have to suspect that with a massive fired-up home
crowd behind them, the Germans will be getting the benefit of the doubt in any decisions
that are even halfway contentious. The only fly in the ointment is that for all
the talk of England's straightforward path into quarter finals, it's been a murderer's
row compared to who Germany have been asked to go up against. To date, the Germans
have played a godawful Costa Rican team, a Polish side whose one and only goal was
not to be humiliated, Ecuador's reserves and ten Swedes. So it's tough to realistically
judge how good they really are. Particularly given their awful results in the run-up
to the tournament. Have Germany suddenly worked it out? Or have they been flattered
a bit by the bucketheads lining up opposite? Your humble correspondent's guess is
a bit of both. Obviously this is hardly a startlingly original observation, but
Argentina's skipper Juan
Pablo Sorin really does have the classic South American footballer's 'do going
on. Been trying all tournament to put my finger on who he looks like, and it's finally
struck me - it's
that bloke out of Extreme. God help him. Fifteen minutes in, and Germany really
should be one up. A counterattack sees a nice ball dinked into the penalty area
giving Michael Ballack has a free header from the penalty spot, but can only direct
it just past the near post. The chance was slightly against the run of play, though,
because Argentina have had fractionally the better of the opening exchanges, Germany
largely looking to soak up possession and hit on the break. "He seems to
be on the same mental level as the players," says Clive Tyldesley of the
referee, which seems a bit harsh. As seen in the France-Spain game, it looks like
you're actually going to have to attack a striker with a halberd to earn a yellow
card this afternoon. A somewhat anticlimactic half comes to an end with the game
still goalless - Argentina have had something like two thirds of the possession
but created exactly one shot. Like Spain a couple of days ago, if they lose this
they've really got no-one but themselves to blame. Five minutes into the second
half, and Argentina are one up - lovely corner from Riquelme, Ayala arrives in the
box with a bullet header that leaves Lehman with no chance. That might be just what
the game needs. Sure enough, immediately things have opened up, Germany increasing
the tempo and pressing for the equaliser while now it's the Argentineans who're
looking to counter. Sixty-five minutes gone, and a corner sees Argentina's keeper,
Abbondanzieri come for the cross but get absolutely nowhere near it. The ball bounces
to Ballack just outside the six-yard box but his volley bounces harmlessly away
off a defender. Set pieces really look like a potential banana-skin for Argentina.
Twenty minutes to go, and Argentina are firmly into no-hurry mode - players being
"injured" after every tackle, substitutes dawdling off - which the German
crowd are predictably thrilled with. They shouldn't worry too much though, because
so far the referee seems... well, let's just say that as predicted before kickoff
he's been thoroughly sympathetic toward the home team. So they're likely to get
as much injury time as they need to get a goal, a la Manchester United in the late
nineties. Ten minutes to go, and Argentina have used their third sub, all of them
defensive changes which might come back to bite them if... and there's the equaliser!
Ballack delivers from the right, Borowski flicks it on and Miroslav Klose arrives
at the far post to nod it in. You've got to feel Germany are favourites to win this
now, given that Argentina have removed both Riquelme and Crespo to shore themselves
up at the back, but they can't make it count in regular time and so we'll have half
an hour more ("Klinsmann has gotten them back into this with some excellent
substitutions and a good goal by Kloss." - Fat Sam. Yeah, he's only the
top scorer in the tournament, what's the point of bothering to learn how to pronounce
his name?). The extra-time period is a bit flat - Germany are practically down to
ten men with Ballack limping around on a gimpy ankle, so even given that they've
been shorn of their two best attacking players Argentina have marginally the better
of things, albeit without creating a clear-cut chance. Penalties, then, and the
Germans are, well, ruthlessly efficient - spot-kick after spot-kick rifled powerfully
into the net, while Argentina pay the price for two soft low shots that Lehman saves
with comparative ease. Argentina go out, and accept defeat with their customary
grace - substitute Cufre running across the pitch to launch a kick that hits Mertesacker...
well, if I were a commentator, I'd describe it as "in the midriff" or
"amidships", but since I'm not I can safely use the term "right in
the happy sacks". This provokes a mass ruck involving players, subs, managers
and backroom staff from both sides, "Disgraceful! Disgraceful!"
to the boys in the box, but bloody hilarious to everybody else. The end of the game's
been roughly 500% more interesting than any of the football on display in Berlin
today.
Italy 3-0 Ukraine Second Italy game on the bounce I've missed most of.
Honestly, you'd think I had a grudge against the cynical cheating bastards! Get
home ten minutes into the game and discover the Italians are one up already, so
that's game over. In first-half stoppage time, Rusol goes down with an injury, then
half-disappears into a prodigious cloud of vapour from the physio's spray-can. The
overall effect is a giant who's fallen over in the middle of a Sisters Of Mercy
gig. "You can do what you like against these Ukrainians. They're useless."
- Martin O'Neill calls a spade a fucking shovel. "Pompey, Crassus and the
rest must have started the first triumvirate by thinking "we'll invent the
offside!" " - MO'N again, waxing classical - not to mention nonsensical
- as he tries to explain his enduring love of all things Italian. Bet you'd never
hear that from Alan Shearer, eh? Your humble correspondent has to dash out
again before the second half, quick flicks to Five Live's commentary while taxiing
various family members to their appointed destinations indicating that the Ukrainians
had a pop at getting the game back at the start of the second half but got picked
off twice on the counter to kill the game off good and proper. Italy against Germany
in the first semi-final, then.
Brazil 3-0 Ghana The first mention of a Brazilian (Ronaldinho) "playing
the game with a smile of his face" is fifteen minutes before kickoff, insert
traditional punchline here. It's a Panel Of Pundits from the Broadcast Booth of
Beelzebub today, Robbie Earle, Andy "T'Be Sure" Townsend and Ally "Fucking"
McCoist joining utter waste of space Gabby Logan in ITV's glass shoebox. All four
are backing the favourites ("we want the Brazil Show today" - Logan)
but your humble correspondent is happy to go on record saying that he doesn't think
this game is going to be the walkover it's being made out to be. It remains to be
seen how much Ghana are going to miss Michael Essien, but in all three of their
games so far Ghana have largely bossed the midfield area, and given the number of
showponies in the middle for Brazil there's every reason to suspect they might do
so again. To pull off an upset Ghana are going to have to be less suicidal at the
back than they were against Italy, and less wasteful in front of goal than they
were against the Czechs, but they work hard and create chances so while it's possible
they might be overawed by the occasion, to patronisingly write them off as the Generals
to Brazil's Globetrotters seems a bit premature. Five minutes gone, Ghana's ludicrously
high offside trap is sprung by Ronaldo who rounds the goalkeeper and slots into
an empty net. Uh. Forget I said anything, alright? To be fair, Ghana settle after
the goal and begin to play some decent stuff, but this is starting to look worryingly
like the Italy game where they conceded early, played well, gave the Italians plenty
of problems but then conceded again late. "They are turning this into a
proper match!" - a shocked-sounding Peter Drury, who plainly hasn't bothered
to watch any of Ghana's other games in the Finals. Argh. Then Brazil break down
the other end, a nice flowing move ending with the obviously offside Adriano bundling
the ball into the net. The linesman might as well have worn a mask, because that
was daylight fucking robbery. Ten minutes to go and Asamoah Gyan gets his second
yellow for a blatant dive in the penalty box, and that's game over. To an extent
Ghana have been unlucky, because for large periods of the game they were the better
side and have produced enough chances to get a result, but didn't someone mention
that their being suicidal at the back and wasteful up front probably wouldn't end
well? Brazil are being booed and whistled at contemptuously by their fans despite
being two in front - yet another reason to hope they crash out of the tournament
in spectacular and hilarious fashion.
Spain 1-2 France The winner of this game play Brazil in the quarter-finals.
France accommodate Zidane's return not by dropping Franck "The World, Chico.
And Everything In It" Ribery, but rather Thierry Henry's (hopeless) strike
partner David Trezeguet. Meanwhile, Luis Garcia is dropped by the Spanish to accommodate
Raul, who had a decent game against Saudi Arabia. For a while now, France's Achilles
heel has been a lack of quality finishers, Henry aside, and tonight's the sort of
game where that might prove to be the difference. Twenty-five minutes gone, Lilian
Thuram crashes through the back of Pablo Ibanez for next to no reason, and the referee
points at the spot. Barthez goes the right way, but David Villa's penalty is so
low, quick and well-placed the big slaphead gets nowhere near it. Both teams' jerseys
have the player names in bloody
ENORMOUS letters on the back. It's a good job your friend and mine Jan Vennegoor
of Hesselink isn't Spanish, that's all I'm saying. First shot of Thierry Henry gesticulating
at his team-mates while rolling his eyes in that "You Are All Dirt Beneath
My Heels" expression is after 38 minutes, etc and so on. Two minutes after
that, Patrick Viera's pass springs the Spanish offside trap and after crashing about
seventeen shots over the bar in the Togo game, Ribery finally gets one on target,
cooly rounding the goalkeeper and sidefooting the ball home JUST ahead of the defenders
racing back to cover. Spain have had nearly two-thirds of the possession in this
half but haven't created a lot - much like England's first half against Ecuador
- while France have their tails up all of a sudden. Raul, in particular, has done
fuckall for forty-five minutes. That's the half, and fucking hell, Professor X is
trying to flog us petrol. I really have to get round to updating the Blacklist again
soon. Plus, if that Pringles advert was even vaguely accurate, Roberto Carlos would
have chested the can down then sliced it a mile over the roof of the car park. Anyway,
second half starts and for all Spain's fluency in the first half it's France that
are shading it at the moment. Remember back in Spain's game against the Ukraine,
when they scored that gorgeous fourth goal and the commentators started declaring
that Spain's problems with underachievement and lack of unity were behind them?
Remember my saying that we'd see whether that was still the case when things weren't
quite going their way? Well, here we are. And to be honest, it doesn't look good.
The first booking of a pretty competitive game arrives in the 68th minute - d'you
it's possible that Uncle Sepp's had a word? - and neither team has yet managed to
carve out a clear-cut chance since the break. Then with barely five minutes left
Puyol runs across Henry on the edge of the box and the Frenchman goes down clutching
at his face in an only slightly more convincing manner than Mark Van Bommel managed
a couple of nights ago. Zidane's free kick causes confusion in the area and ends
up with Patrick Viera heading it home from a tight angle off Spanish defender Sergio
Ramos. Spain finally rouse themselves to put a bit of pressure on the Spanish goal,
but insult is added to injury when stoppage time sees Zinedine Zidane latch onto
a pass from substitute Wiltord, cut inside and wrong-foot the keeper with a shot
that finds the bottom corner. Spain are out with no-one but themselves to blame.
Okay, themselves and the referee for giving the dodgy free kick that the French
got their second goal from. Alright, alright, themselves, the referee and Thierry
Henry for being a big cheaty play-acting git, but that's my final offer. France
go through to face Brazil in the next round.
Italy 1-0 Australia "For Mark Viduka and Australia, it's like
falling in love for the first time - exciting and daunting in equal measure."
It's going to be a long fucking afternoon, isn't it? Or, um, not. If you for example
fall asleep midway through an uneventful first half that Italy predictably have
the better of, wake up just in time for the crazy sending-off of Materazzi (straight
red? For that? My big fat arse), drift back off again and only catch the afternoon's
other talking point (penalty? For that? My big fat arse) on the highlights later.
So, um. Sorry about that.
Switzerland 0-0 Ukraine (0-3 on penalties) Two teams determined not
to lose. For two hours. Fairly predictable in Switzerland's case - they looked tight
at the back but lacking even the faintest trace of imagination going forward all
through the tournament - but maybe a bit more of a surprise from the Ukraine. This
game is the mirror-universe evil-goatee taking-over-command-of-the-Enterprise-when-your-back's-turned
twin of the Portugal-Holland game of last night. Both matches were weirdly compelling,
PORNED because if you blinked you might miss a machete attack on a Portuguese forward,
this because it's so utterly free of incident, drama, anything that it's almost
hypnotic. It's a game of such monumental dullness it even somehow manages to drain
the tension out of a penalty shootout - the first three penalties are missed and
for a horrible moment you're left wondering if we've been trapped in some bizarre
footballing Tartarus, doomed to watch penalties being missed over and over for the
rest of time. Then Artem Milevskiy finally troubles the scoreboard with a cheeky
chip in the opposite direction to the keeper's dive. So we obviously haven't. Yay
for that. From there on the end comes mercifully swiftly - Switzerland fail to convert
even one of their spot-kicks to bow out of the tournament without having conceded
a goal, but at the end of the day football was the loser, Brian. Any chance FIFA
might rule that neither team won and let Mexico play Italy in the next round? Please?
England 1-0 Ecuador Just thirteen games left in the tournament. Unlucky
for some? Okay, fourteen if you count the third-place playoff. But who does? I mean,
really? The big news pre-game is that England are starting in the 4-5-1 formation
that looked distinctly iffy in the games leading up to the Finals, with Owen Hargreaves
taking over at right-back from the disappointing Jamie Carragher, and Michael Carrick
getting his first cap in a competitive game as the anchorman in midfield. It's a
ballsy move and seems to correct the biggest problems with the team to this stage
- Gerrard not being able to roam and play his natural game, and the tendency for
too many long balls and too much distance between the strikers and midfield. The
pundits don't like it, but you get the feeling that Eriksson can't do anything right
at this stage - none of them bothering to mention that his hand's been forced to
an extent by injuries, for example. Sigh. Anyway, to judge by the early going the
formation seems to suit the side pretty well, Carrick's tidy passing in the middle
of the park letting Gerrard and Lampard get forward with relative impunity. For
all that England are controlling the game, though, they don't seem to be creating
enough chances against a well-organised Ecuadorian back four, and in fact come closest
to conceding when Rio Ferdinand and John Terry take turns in screwing up defensive
headers to put Carlos Tenorio one-on-one with the goalkeeper. But at the last second
Ashley Cole comes out of nowhere and manages to block the shot onto the crossbar.
Phew. "The keeper didn't know if it was New
York or New Year," says Lawro, who never struck me as a Nick Lowe fan
before. More good stuff at the start of the second half, and the team don't seem
to be losing patience with the slow buildup approach which is officially a Good
Thing. Cometh the hour, cometh the Man - David Beckham has looked out of sorts all
game, but from out of nowhere produces a fucking wonderful free kick - twenty-five
yards out if it's an inch, the ball starting as if it's going toward the centre
of goal then dipping and swerving wickedly before grazing the inside of the post
and the keeper's fingertips on its way into the bottom corner. Sheer magic ("That
was a good free kick." - Lawro. Oh, you think so, Doctor?). AND for the
first time in forever, England don't fall back and try to sit on the lead - the
defence keeps a high line, the midfield keeps its shape and the team press for another.
Ten futile minutes later and Ecuador throw on Ivan Kaviedes to help press for the
equaliser - "He's got in his back pocket the Spiderman mask he produces
when he scores, in memory of a colleague who died in a car-crash." - Motty.
What, you mean... Ivan Kaviedes used to work at the Daily Bugle? There's still time
for Frank Lampard to miss a couple of good opportunities - it's got to come good
for him eventually, doesn't it? - and Beckham to do a Zidane and launch his lunch
onto the pitch before the final whistle. Not a vintage performance, but England's
best of the tournament so far and once again they've played exactly as well as they
have to get a result against the team they're playing. No doubt they've got to up
their game from here on out, but past history - and good signs today like the assured
performance from the centre of midfield and the ninety minutes of excellence from
Rooney in the lone striker role - suggests that improvement is not only possible,
but likely. Whether they can improve enough... well now, that's the question, isn't
it? Ian Wright et. al. slaughter Sven after the game for not having played Carrick
before now, brilliantly forgetting that pre-kickoff none of them liked the idea
of England playing five across midfield. Sigh.
Portugal 1-0 Holland Okay. Winners of this to face England in the quarters.
And don't we bloody know it, ITV's talking heads Clive Tyldesley and David Pleat
(aka the Idiot Twins) getting almost a minute into the game before they stop talking
about fucking England and bother to mention either of the teams who're actually,
you know, playing. Sigh. Holland are in their Thunderbirds-style change strip,
and still look like their squad numbers have been applied with duct tape. Right
from the off, this looks like it's going to be a bit tasty, with two players booked
in the opening ten minutes ("I think he's a bit card-happy, this referee"
- Tyldesley, as a slow-motion replay shows Dutch defender Boulahrouz going studs
up into Crap Ronaldo at thigh height). The Dutch have dropped Ruud van Nistelrooy
for this game, and his place seems to have been taken by Anthony
Michael Hall of Breakfast Club / Weird Science "fame". Twenty minutes
gone, and slightly against the run of play the Portugeezers are a goal ahead - a
lovely cross by Deco, knocked back by Pauleta, Maniche makes space for himself with
a clever side-step and clobbers the ball past Edwin Van Der Sar. That shot was "swift
as a shot!" according to Pleat. Yeah. Thanks for that, Dave. Shortly after,
Crap Ronaldo is taken off not having been able to throw off the effects of that
early challenge, the cameras zooming in to show us close-up pictures of the whining,
arrogant, cheating, jawbone-impaired show-offy little bastard in tears. Not wanting
to sound cruel or heartless, but ahahahaha. Our first shot of one Dutch player (Wesley
Sneijder) shouting in exasperation at another (Robin van Persie) is after 43 minutes,
which is etcetera, etcetera and so on. Right on the stroke of halftime, Geese midfielder
Costinha picks up a mind-blowingly idiotic second yellow card for a deliberate handball,
and the Dutch will get 45 minutes to try and equalise against ten men. Assuming
all Holland's players get through the game, which looks a wee bit doubtful. Another
contender for Stupidest Question Of The World Cup at halftime, when talking about
the sending off, anchorairhead Gabby Logan asks geezer-in-chief Terry Venables "do
you think this is going to adversely affect Portugal's chances?" Portugal
coach Phil Scolari has brought off Pauleta, his lone striker, at halftime - fair
enough Phil, but what happens if you concede a goal? Meanwhile, Holland boss Marco
Van Basten is wearing a bloody enormous watch. It looks for all the world like he's
got an aluminium bagel strapped to his wrist. An hour in, and a game that's been,
um, lively? Full-blooded? Hotly competitive? Anyway. Whatever the game has been,
what it is NOW is completely batshit insane. First Luis Figo is lucky to avoid a
red card after he headbutts Mark Van Bommel, who gives us a demonstration of classic
Footballer's Delayed Pain Reflex as he waits for a couple of seconds after he's
hit, plainly thinking "Aw, BRILLIANT! This could be another sending off!"
before throwing himself to the ground clutching his face. Three minutes later it's
Figo's turn, tumbling to the floor writhing in agony as his face is lightly brushed
by Khalid Boulahrouz's stray arm. That's a second yellow, and now it's ten vs. ten.
Ten disappointingly violence-free minutes go by before it's Deco's turn to come
close to being sent off - after an injury, the referee restarts with a drop-ball
but instead of returning possession to Portugal, Dutch substitute Rafael Van Der
Vaart starts running with the ball at his feet. In comes Deco to deal out vigilante
justice in the form of a crazy sliding scything tackle that upends Van Der Vaart
without getting within six feet of the ball. The Portuguese midfielder picks up
a yellow that could very, very easily have been red, and precipitates a pushing-and-shoving
match that sees three more players booked. Deco's not done yet, though, and gets
his second yellow a couple of minutes later for picking up the ball after a free
kick's awarded against him and refusing to return it to the Dutch to let them get
play back underway. Stupid, stupid, stupid. That's ten v. nine, then, and this game's
starting to make USA-Italy look like a Baptist church picnic. The Idiot Twins in
the commentary box are badly misjudging the mood of the nation - "There
has to be an alternative. If he's timewasting, just add time on at the end, ref!"
squeals an outraged Tyldesley, completely ignoring the fact that referees have been
ordered to crack down on timewasting all tournament, and that Deco is a fucking
halfwit who's brought this entirely on himself. "Terrible decision!"
agrees Pleat. "Disgraceful!" Meanwhile, your humble correspondent
can hardly make notes because he's busy pissing himself laughing. And PRAYING for
extra time. With another half an hour, this could end up with just the keepers on
the park. Ten minutes to go, and Anthony Michael Hall misses an absolutely gilt-edged
opportunity, put through one-on one with Ricardo in the Portugeezers' goal he just
hits his shot tamely straight at the keeper. That might be Holland boned, to be
honest, although most of the second half has been taken up by players rolling around
on the floor and/or shouting at one another. So if the board comes up showing less
than ten minutes of stoppage time to add on, you'll know that the officials are
just trying to get this fucker over with. Eighty-fifth minute, and The Horse really
must be out of favour - Holland throw on a striker, but it's the other one, the
one with the greatest name in the history of football, Jan
Vennegoor Of Hesselink. It's players like that that the whole "name on
the back of the jersey" thing was invented for. The Dutch do their best to
press but don't ever really look like breaking through, and five minutes of stoppage
time into the six that the fourth official has mandated (wuss) and it's nine against
nine as Gio Van Bronckhorst puts the tin lid on things with his second yellow of
the night. Twenty cautions including four dismissals is comfortably a World Cup
Finals record, and this has been the most perversely entertaining game of the tournament.
Another one that'd be tough to explain the appeal to anyone not really into football.
It was just the perfect storm - two of the three dirtiest and most cynical teams
in the tournament (hello, Italy!) colliding with a referee who was determined to
rein in at all costs a game that was utterly out of control almost from the opening
kickoff. The result was operatic in its badness. Grand Guignol on a football pitch.
Utterly, utterly glorious, assuming you weren't supporting either of the teams directly
involved. So. The quarter-final will be England against whatever Portuguese players
aren't banned / injured / shellshocked after that encounter, then.
Germany 2-0 Sweden "Definitely the most overrated player on
the planet," says Martin O'Neill of Zlatan Ibrohimovic. Two words, Martin
- Roberto Carlos. Think on, lad. A candidate for the stupidest question of the Finals
so far - Ray Stubbs asking Boris Becker "As a German, are you happy that
Germany have put on a good World Cup?" Twelve minutes in, Germany two up,
Podolsky with both of them. This German defence is iffy, but it's probably not iffy
enough to give up two goals to a pretty pedestrian Swedish side. Bad to worse on
35 minutes, Teddy Lucic receiving a second yellow card for the most innocuous shirt-pull
possible on Torsten Frings - the referee didn't look like he was going to issue
a caution until Frings had a word with him. Naughty ("Absolutely scandalous"
- Alan Hansen). If there's hope for Sweden, it lies between Germany's posts - Jens
Lehman has fumbled all three of Sweden's decent efforts on goal and generally seems
to have reverted to his "accident waiting to happen" form of the season
before last. "Last year, seeing Germany beaten out of sight 4-1 by Italy,
you couldn't have imagined them playing football like they have in this tournament,"
gushes Jonathan Pearce, spectacularly missing the salient point - they got humped
by Italy, and have beaten Costa Rica, Poland, Ecuador's reserve team and a Swedish
side that doesn't look like it can be bothered from the midfield back. Oooooh. Five
minutes gone in the second half, Henrik Larsson throws himself spectacularly to
the ground and the referee gives a penalty. Larsson steps up to take the kick himself,
but hammers it wildly over the bar. When it's not your day...
Argentina 2-1 Mexico (AET) Mexico have a shock lead after five minutes,
Rafael Marquez sliding in at the back post to supply a lovely finish after a corner
is flicked on. The advantage doesn't last long, an Argentinean corner seeing Mexican
forward Jared Borgetti heading into his own net. Honours are largely even for the
rest of the first half, both sides attacking with pace and determination, but right
on the stroke of half time Argentina's left-back Gabriel Heinz gives the ball away
on the edge of the box then crudely hacks Jose Fonseca down attempting to make amends.
The referee only shows a yellow card when it looked a absolutely nailed-on straight
red. Speaking of Mexico's Argentinean coach Ricardo La Volpe, "Campos is
his assistant, the... I hesitate to say great, but certainly colourful Mexican goalkeeper."
says Guy Mowbray. "Depends how you're spelling "great"."
Replies Lawro. Eh? What? Is he implying that Campos is a fireplace? The tempo drops
a bit in the second half, but both sides are still obviously trying to win the game
and it's something of a minor miracle that we end the ninety minutes scoreless and
go into extra time. Ten minutes into the first period, a lofted pass from substitute
Lionel Messi finds Maxi Rodriguez at the corner of the box. Rodriguez controls it
with his chest and hits a thumping drive on the volley that curls beyond a helpless
Sanchez in the Mexico goal to nestle in the far corner. It's taken one of the goals
of the tournament to decide the game of the tournament so far. Mexico has been pretty
desperately unlucky, while Argentina advance to face the hosts in what looks like
it could be another belting game.
Ukraine 1-0 Tunisia Saudi Arabia 0-1 Spain Right, here's the gig
- a win for Tunisia sees them in the second round assuming Saudi Arabia don't thump
Spain. Any other result and the Ukraine join Spain in the next round. A hilarious
attempted backheel from Jaidi (whose first name to judge by the commentary is "Bolton's")
gives the Ukraine a two-on-two opportunity in the opening couple of minutes, but
they can't capitalise. Eight minutes gone and Zied Jaziri performs the single worst
dive of the tournament to date, collapsing like one of Moo's seasons on Championship
Manager despite no Ukrainian player being within a foot of him. After the initial
tussles, the Ukraine get hold of the game, attacking with pace and in numbers, but
they can't quite break through. It's not a great 45 minutes to be honest, but with
the last kick of the half Jaziri picks up his second yellow for a tackle from behind
and like the Czechs yesterday, Tunisia will need to push for the win with 10 men.
The Paraguayan referee, Carlos Amarilla, is absolutely slaughtered by the half-time
pundits. "Show me the card by Amarilla," says Martin O'Neill, before
going on to complain about having to sit next to pretty-as-all-get-out BBC new-boy
Leonardo - "He's not the kind of guy you want to walk into a disco with,"
says MON. "Bring back Dowie!"
As suspected, the sending off has completely killed off a game that was never all
that lively to start with, and on seventy minutes any last sparks are beaten out
of it when Shevchenko goes down very, very easily in the box (oh yes, he's going
to fit in just perfectly at Chelsea) and slots the penalty himself. Spain and the
Ukraine go through, then.
Switzerland 2-0 South Korea Togo 0-2 France Okay. If either Switzerland
or South Korea win, they're through and the other team will join them if France
fail to win. A draw makes things decidedly more complicated. Meanwhile, to be certain
of qualification France need to beat Togo by two goals, or to win by one and score
at least two goals more than South Korea do. Confused? You will be after tonight's
episode of... Sepp. A few years ago, Sky Sports used to use Fool's Gold as the theme
song for their Coca-Cola Cup coverage. From the same "Are They Trying To Tell
Us Something?" file, the advert for the BBC Parliament channel has The Mess
We're In by PJ Harvey as its background music. Togo's boss-of-the-moment, Otto Pfister,
bears a striking resemblance to Reg Holdsworth off of Coronation Street, while French
winger Frank Ribery - in the side for the suspended Zinedine Zidane - is possibly
the single person at the World Cup whose pint you'd least want to spill. "That
trademark scar," gibbers Jonathan Pearce, "from a childhood car-crash..."
Dunno, is "trademark" really the word you were looking for there,
Jonathon? Anyway, France have the better of the early going, but Togo look dangerous
on the break - there're teams we've seen at this tournament who didn't look like
they'd score if the games went on all night, but Togo definitely aren't in that
category. They break with pace and purpose, and the French defence looks a wee bit
uncomfortable dealing with them. As the half wears on, France keep creating chances
but are just starting to misplace a few passes in midfield and generally looking
somewhere between a bit tight (Thierry Henry) and absolutely terrified (Ribery).
Still, there's some good news - Phillipe Senderos gets his head to a Hakan Yakin
free kick and powers the ball home to give Switzerland the lead in the other game,
and if that result stands any win will do for France here. It only looks like a
matter of time before France go ahead, but then that's what the Sweden-Trinnibago
game looked like too, and there are more than a few derisive whistles from the crowd
as the teams go off at halftime with no score. If this gets to about an hour or
so in without a goal or, even better, if Togo can capitalise on one of their counterattacks
then this game could get really, really interesting. "Poor offside decisions
have blighted these finals," says Jonathan Pearce after a dodgy flag denies
Togo's Emmanuel Adebayor a chance. "Yes, the referees have generally got
things right..." replies Mark Bright, who plainly didn't see the Pollster's
performance in the Australia-Croatia game. The third or fourth gorgeous pass from
Thierry Henry just outside the box gives Frank Ribery his second or third golden
opportunity, and for the second or third time he shoots wildly over the bar. Cut
to Henry and the "you useless, cretinous moron" expression that he's had
so long to perfect at Highbury. Ten minutes after the break, though, and Ribery
finally does something right - he breaks into the box, cuts the ball back to Patrick
Viera who turns, strikes, just beyond the keeper's reach, one-nil. Instantly France
seem to relax and regain the poise they were in danger of losing and five minutes
later it's game over - Viera knocks it down in the box, Henry makes space for himself
and whacks it in the bottom corner. So, France are in the last sixteen and will
play Spain in the next round, while Switzerland face the Ukraine.
Czech Republic 0-2 Italy Ghana 2-1 USA This last round of group
games has been largely fucking tedious (other than the England match which was largely
fucking terrifying, natch) but today promises a little better with two groups with
four teams each who're still capable of qualification for the knockout stages. First
up is the free-flowing Czechs against the free-diving Italians. "The Methuselah
of football coaches," says Motty of Karel Bruckner, before suddenly thinking
of the children and setting the record straight. "Well actually that's not
quite fair. Methuselah was several hundred years old, if you know your Bible."
The Czech Republic are starting with just one man up front, and that man is Milan
Baros. In the immortal words of John Le Mesurier, do you really think that's wise,
sir? The first ten minutes of this game pack in more entertainment and interest
than the whole of Argentina-Holland. Any other referee in the tournament would have
brandished at least three yellow cards in a decidedly tasty opening, but the Mexican
official seems to want to let things flow. The Czechs are urgent, as you'd expect
since they've probably got to win this to qualify. The Italians are sitting back
and trying to hit on the counter, as you'd expect since a draw's probably good enough
for them. And because they're Italian. In the space of five minutes, the Czechs
go from being in a tight spot to being in big trouble - Ghana go ahead in their
game, and Everton reject Marco Materazzi gets on the end of a corner to bang home
the simplest of headers to put Italy in front here. Eeek. "Again we have
a pause while the referee tries to sort out the tugging" - Motty. And quite
right too. There's a time and a place, after all. The Czech Republic are neat, tidy
and hardworking in midfield, but predictably they're not getting enough people into
the box to support a plainly-not-match-sharp Baros. We should all hope that they
sort it out, because the tournament will be all the poorer if it's not being graced
by Czech defender Jan Polak's hair - a wonderful bottle-blond effort that looks
like nothing so much as a cross between the distinctive signature barnets of Billy
Ray Cyrus and B.A. Baracus. Aargh, and no sooner is that said than Polak is off,
coming through Totti from behind (ooh-er madam, etc) for his second yellow. Between
that and the fact that the US have just equalised, we might have been robbed of
a fun second half, here. OH! Ghanaian penalty. That's a criminal decision, not a
foul in a hundred million years. Still, Stephen Appiah sends Keller the wrong way
and hammers the ball into the roof of the net before wheeling away, miming using
his ear to juice an orange, for reasons probably best kept to himself. Right. With
Ghana back in front, the Czech Republic desperately has to find a win from somewhere,
can they pull it off? There's a Finnish flag draped over the hording behind one
goal - and an Israeli flag at the other end. Bizarre. Baros is brought off after
an hour having done not a single thing right in the entire game, but Italy are persevering
with the desperately poor Totti, who doesn't even seem to be able to offer a threat
in a game where the other side are down to ten men but still have to charge forward
with Light Brigade-level zeal, meaning that there's no opposition player within
ten yards of him every time he picks up the ball. Substitute Pippo Inzaghi wraps
the game up five minutes from the end when he takes a short break from being caught
offside to round a stranded Petr Cech and slide the ball into an unguaded net. Italy
and Ghana are through, the injury-riddled Czechs and largely hopeless Team USA are
going home. All credit to the commentators who managed to get though an entire ninety
minutes of football without mentioning England so much as once. See, ITV? That's
how it's fucking done.
Japan 1-4 Brazil Croatia 2-2 Australia If Robinho ever decided
to grow a big ball afro, he'd honestly be the spit of a young Michael Jackson. Rockin'
Robinho, if you like. Or indeed if you don't. Yet another goal in the first five
minutes of a game, Darijo Srna scoring from twenty yards with a sweetly-struck free
kick to put Croatia ahead. As it stands now, Brazil and Croatia are the qualifiers
for the next round. Brazil are showing disturbing signs of going through the gears,
here - even Ronaldo ("I predict a diet. I predict a diet..." -
Guy Mobray) is showing signs of life. But - lawks a-lordy - Japan go ahead with
one of the goals of the tournament, a lovely passing move ending with Alex sliding
the ball through the Brazilian defence and Keiji (hey, I've worked out where all
Croatia's vowels have gone!) Tamada latches onto the pass before beating Dida high
at his near post. That was liquid football! It may not be enough, though - just
a couple of minutes later a handball in the box gives Australia a penalty that Craig
Moore slams home, and now Japan face the prospect of beating Brazil and yet still
not qualifying for the next round. Luckily, they don't have to face it for long.
With the last touch of the half Brazil grab the goal they've been threatening -
a Ronaldinho cross knocked back across the face of goal by Cicinho and wouldn't
you know it, Doughnut is there to nod it into the empty net from three yards. My
nan would have scored that one. Half-time highlight hilarity reveals Australia should
have had another penalty right at the start of the game - Simunic's rugby-tackle
on Mark Viduka somehow missed by officious, self-important pillock Graham Poll,
getting a chance to bring the madcap comedy stylings he's perfected in the Premiership
onto the world stage. Anyway, Brazil grab a couple of goals early in the second
half to put that game out of reach, so it's time to switch to BBC3 for the decidedly
more lively Croatia-Australia dust-up. The Croats are now 2-1 ahead and are desperately
trying to cling on to their lead - the back four defending so deep they're almost
on the goal-line. The goalkeeper, Pletikosa, is performing absolute bloody heroics
- a magnificent reaction save from a close-range Harry Kewell drive is bettered
moments later as he dives in where boots are flying to smother the ball just before
it can be forced over the line. In between, Australia seem to have brought on either
Jason Gillespie or Frank Zappa as a substitute, and another cast-iron penalty isn't
given - Stjepan Tomas flagrantly handling in the box for the second time in this
game. Rob succinctly sums up the feelings of a nation, well two nations now - "This
is embarrassing. Surely there's got to be a better referee in England than Graham
fucking Poll?" The inevitable goal arrives with ten minutes to go, Harry
Kewell smashing it in from point-blank range - in keeping with the general theme
of shitty officiating, the linesman on the near side fails to notice that Kewell
was half a yard offside. Croatia pour forward, as you do, and Igor Tudor misses
an absolutely golden chance to put his side through to the last sixteen when Zeljko
Kalac in goal for Australia flaps at a cross that ends up falling at the big Croatian
centreback's feet. He takes too long to get his shot away and it's smothered. Then
things get REALLY crazy. A trip on Kewell sees Dario Simic pick up his second yellow
card, and Croatia are down to ten. Australia generously match that two minutes later
when Graham Poll ajudges Brett Emerton to have deliberately handled the ball. After
it's smacked right at him. From all of two yards. The Croats can't be having with
that, though, and Josip Simunic picks up HIS second yellow for yet another foul
on Harry Kewell... only Poll doesn't realise he's already booked the player before
and Simunic is allowed to stay on the field. Five minutes of fervent prayer for
Simunic to score a winner just to see how FIFA deal with it unfortunately isn't
answered, but he shows considerable flair for comic absurdity when deep into injury
time he picks up an unprecedented third yellow card for dissent and finally gets
his marching orders from The Idiot Poll. Bravo! Brazil to face Ghana in the second
round then, while Australia take on Italy.
Portugal 2-1 Mexico Iran 1-1 Angola Mexico make all the early running
but find themselves down to another early goal, a nice little passing move ending
with Maniche smacking it home from the edge of the box. Today's random lower-league
flag behind a goal - Hull Kingston Rovers. Eh? Aren't they a rugby team? Twenty-five
minutes gone and it's a penalty to Portugal after Marques handles in the area. The
Mexican keeper Sanchez stands a good three or four yards closer to his left-hand
post than the right-hand post, and Simao calls his bluff, tucking it into the right
corner. Half an hour in and Mexico miss a golden opportunity to pull one back -
the ball falls to the feet of Bravo five yards out, but with the whole goal to choose
from he fires straight at the goalie, who's then subjected to a lingering Women
In Love-style clinch on the floor from his left back. A great moment in World Cup
homoeroticism is for naught though, as from the resulting corner Fonseca flicks
a great header across the goal and into the far corner and the Mexicans are back
in this. After an hour though, it's game over - another handball in the area, this
time from Portugeezer Miguel, and Mexico have the opportunity for an equaliser but
Bravo powers the spot-kick over the bar, and just a few minutes later his side are
down to ten men when Perez earns a second yellow for a tussle in the box with Miguel.
For a while Mexico are spurred into action by the news that Angola have gone ahead
in their game, since one more goal either for the Portugeese or Angolans would put
Mexico out, but a few minutes later Iran level it and the game gently peters out.
Holland 0-0 Argentina Hey, what's going on with Holland's shirt numbers?
For some reason, they're in a wanky trendy angular typeface which has the numerals
so close together they look like those stupid personalised number plates which put,
say, a 1 and 3 tight up next to each other to look like a B. This is far and away
the most interesting thing on the pitch over the course of ninety minutes. Ivory
Coast 3-2 Serbia & Montenegro In retrospect, it might have been a better
idea to watch this game instead, eh? Proof positive that if you want to get your
strikeforce into gear, a good start is not having Mateja Kezman in your team.
Ecuador 0-3 Germany Poland 2-1 Costa Rica Ecuador have signalled
their intent to save themselves for the second round by sending out a team featuring
several reserves. Germany are at full strength and go ahead inside five minutes
through Miroslav Klose after a cross is knocked back across the face of goal by
Schweinsteiger (SCHWEINSTEIGER!). "They've done that a few times,"
says Jon Champion after a foul is slightly dubiously awarded against Ecuador. "This
German team seems to go to the ground rather easily." A side coached by
Jurgen Klinsmann? Making the most of challenges? Inconceivable! "I think
if you'd offered Jurgen Klinsmann a 1-0 win he'd have snapped your hands off."
opines Champion. "That'd be a fine from FIFA, wouldn't it?" The
comedy stylings of Jim Beglin, ladies and gentlemen! First shot of Franz Beckenbauer
in the crowd looking cool and unruffled is on 43 minutes, which is a shame etc.
England have just lost another bloody wicket, that brings Pietersen to the crease
and an awful lot depends... sorry, forgot what I was supposed to be watching for
a minute. A clever pass from Michael Ballack sees Klose take the ball round the
keeper and apply the simplest of finishes into an unguarded net. The weird spire
thing at one end of the Berlin stadium is the spitting image of the Aelid tower
in the middle of the Imperial City in Oblivion. Aaaaand that's the third, Podolski
sliding in at the back stick to turn a lovely low cross into the net. Germany look
a bloody good side on available evidence, but it's fair to say they haven't really
been tested yet.
Sweden 2-2 England Paraguay 2-0 Trinidad & Tobago Oh
my God Owen's fucked, still we're playing pretty well here, fuck me Owen Hargreaves
is having a good game, why the FUCK does Joe Cole keep doing that thing where he
cuts inside and thumps a shot into two defenders, oh GREAT goal Joe Cole, this is
more like it, this is what we wanted to see, far fewer long balls, much more patience
in the midfield, Sweden are offering nothing except set-pieces, well let's hope
for more of the same in the second half, oh for FUCK'S SAKE, WHY can't we defend
a fucking corner, Sweet zombie Jesus, it's all got a bit tricky now, Rooney looks
knackered, Lennon or Walcott to replace him, what do you reckon? Gerrard? But that's
fucking insane, there's no fucking way we can manage without Gerrard if the dozy
Scouse git gets himself yellow-carded, he can't be bringing Gerrard on, oh fuck
me he has, this is madness, complete and total madness, oh GREAT goal Steven Gerrard,
gorgeous cross from Cole, hah they'll equalise, you wait, they always bloody do,
oh come on deal with this, one of you, ONE OF YOU, oh FUCK ME, what sort of a goal
to let in was that, a fucking LONG THROW? That's fucking CRIMINAL. Well look, top
of the group, so Ecuador then probably Portugal in the knockout rounds, that's a
fucksight better than Germany then Argentina, and hey "England Team Do Just
Enough To Progress" is hardly the most jaw-droppingly unexpected story, is
it? They can play better and I'll go so far as to say they WILL play better in the
next round, but will it be better enough? Un-fucking-likely.
Togo 0-2 Switzerland Emmanuel Adebayor! Phillipe Senderos! Dare Nibombe!
Ludovic Magnin! It's Togo against Switzerland, live on the BBC! Alexander Frei opens
the scoring on 16 minutes, a long cross is knocked back into the danger zone, and
Frei's there to apply the last touch at point-blank range with the keeper stranded.
From there on out it's largely Togo all the way though, and on balance they're unlucky
to get to half time without an equaliser. The first sight of Emmanuel Adebayor throwing
up his hands in disgust and staring accusingly at the referee having just tumbled
theatrically to the floor is after half an hour, which is annoying because I had
fifteen minutes in the sweepstake. The Swiss bring off Dungeons & Dragons creator
Daniel Gygax at halftime and replace him with Hakan Yakin, who to be honest sounds
more like a cartoon woodpecker than a footballer. A Swiss substitute is later introduced
as "a 29 year old who these days plays for Young Boys of Bern."
Insert your own Gary Glitter joke here. Five minutes to go, and since Togo need
to win this game in order to stay alive in the competition, obviously they need
to score twice. Given the utter lack of urgency from their players, though, that's
obviously not on the cards so the absolute most we're going to see is my prediction
league pick of 1-0 to the Swiss getting screwed up... aaaaaaand there it is, the
magnificently named Tranquillo Barnetta (Italian for "Peaceful Hair-Do")
arriving at the edge of the box to smash the ball across the keeper and in off the
foot of the post. How bloody pissing bastard predictable was THAT? Sigh.
Saudi Arabia 0-4 Ukraine Could be an interesting game, this, with the
second qualifying place in the group really up in the air. The Ukraine really have
to get a win here after their slightly unfortunate tonking by the Spanish... aaaand
there's the second goal in twelve hours that's been scored off a striker's knee,
Andriy Rusol darting onto a low corner at the near post and bundling the ball into
the Saudi net. Number of times that Shevchenko's move to Chelsea has been mentioned
in the first five minutes of commentary - three, which is annoying because I had
seven etcetera, etcetera. To be honest, the Saudis are just outclassed here - Ukraine
are nowhere near as bad a team as they were made to look by the first game in this
group (and by the same token Spain aren't quite the world-beaters they seemed to
be either) and they've got more than enough about them to put away a workmanlike
but uninspired Saudi Arabia. The goals fly in at regular intervals and it's looking
like Spain and the Ukraine are probably going to be the teams advancing from this
group, as most would have predicted pre-tournament. All credit to Ukrainian midfielder
Anatoly Tymoschuk for reviving the Bjorn Borg-style headband on a footballer years
after the last person sniggered at Mick Harford. Fingers crossed that it leads to
a rebirth of other much-missed staples of Eighties football style, like castratingly
tight nylon shorts (if you're going to get paid fifty grand a week for ninety minutes'
work, I think it's only fair you bloody suffer a bit) and huge bushy moustaches
on central defenders.
Spain 3-1 Tunisia Remember what we were talking about earlier? The whole
Spain-Were-Flattered-A-Bit-By-The-Ukraine-Result thing? Yeah, well. Carlos Puyol
is first slow getting to a loose ball, then is muscled off it far too easily by
Tunisia's Jaziri who's allowed to run to the byline. Three Spanish defenders ballwatch
as it's crossed to Johar Mnari who fires straight at the Iker Casillas between the
sticks, but the keeper only parries it right back to Mnari's feet and the Tunisian
striker makes no mistake at the second attempt. That was defending that would have
embarrassed a Sunday pub team. Or Germany. Don't misunderstand, the Spanish are
a decent side and they deserved to win their opening game, but goals change matches
and a couple of lucky breaks meant they had an easier time of it than they might
have done. And they look dreadful here for the rest of the first half and a good
chunk of the second, might we have our third hilarious result in three days, following
on from South Korea/France and the USA getting a 1-1 draw with Italy despite not
having a single officially-logged shot on goal? No. Bollocks. Sub Raul spares
his team's blushes after the Tunisan keeper can't hold on to a Cesc Fabregas shot,
Fernando Torres adds a second a few minutes later when the goalie comes miles off
his line then has a panic attack and stands shock still while the striker goes around
him. Torres celebrates with the worst routine since Robbie Keane's monumentally
stupid "Imaginary Bow And Arrow" in Japorea 2002. That's the one where
he let go of the imaginary bow instead of the imaginary string, and so is actually
miming being smashed in the face by a six-foot shaft of wood. Aaaah... sorry, busy
imagining Robbie Keane being hit in the face there, almost missed the third goal
- a Torres penalty after he was bundled over in the box going for a high ball -
and once again Spain have got a final scoreline that doesn't really tell the whole
story. Still, as with England it's all about winning games at this stage, and it
has to be a good sign if you're doing that without playing your best football. Given
how ordinary France's group looks, there doesn't seem to be any force on Earth that'll
stop Spain reaching the quarter-final stage.
Japan 0-0 Croatia Miss the first half, and by the highlights that might
have been a mistake - a Croatian penalty saved and several other close chances.
Ho hum. Croatia seems to be a home for players who were back of the queue when vowels
were handed out - Prso and Srna the main offenders. Five minutes into the half and
it's the miss of the tournament - a drive into the box and low cross by Kaji finds
Yanigasawa in space at the far post five yards out with the goal gaping unguarded,
but he mis-kicks horribly sending the ball skidding a good twenty feet wide. It's
end to end stuff at the moment, but for the most part the Croats are carving out
the better chances, their movement is so much better in the final third and you
feel it's just a matter of time before they capitalise. As the half wears on, though,
Japan grow more and more comfortable until for the large part they're controlling
possession and it's Croatia who're being force to play on the break, but while both
sides are working tremendously hard neither quite seems to have the quality to force
a breakthrough. Croatian substitute Luka Modric looks like Justin Hawkins out of
The Darkness with a blond Beatles wig on. Both sides look dead on their feet as
the final whistle blows, the draw probably a fair result on balance.
Brazil 2-0 Australia The team I'm second most fed up of hearing about
against the team I'm third most fed up of hearing about. On ITV. Oh, God. Bookies
have set the over-under on the number of times I'm compelled to shout at my TV to
shut the fuck up at five and a half. ITV's theme tune is as shabby as every other
aspect of their coverage - a completely soulless fucked-up-bollocks cover of Heroes
that sounds for all the world like the guitarist thought he was meant to be playing
Tomorrow Never Knows. Our panel of pundits today includes... Shane Warne, but hey,
with the depth of insight we're likely to be getting from Terry Venables and Ruud
Gullit having a third pundit who knows the first fucking thing about football would
be gilding the lily, right? "We've got self-belief stamped in our passport"
we're informed. Noice one, Warnaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay... All the pundits strenuously
insist that Ronaldo isn't fat, which if true does beg the question why exactly he's
trying to smuggle a queen-sized mattress around under his jersey? Is it a coincidence
that he suddenly turned rubbish at exactly the same time that Marlon
King suddenly became great? Or did they sneakily swap identities at the start
of this season as part of an intricate global conspiracy with subtle unknowable
ends? More importantly, if he doesn't manage to break out of a walk again today,
will he be threatening Manchester United and Portugal's filthy cheating miserable
sulky Charleston-dancing jawline-impaired diving arsehole's status as "the
shit Ronaldo"? Australia's change kit is a rather natty all navy blue affair,
with a badge that seems to cover half the surface area of the chest and rivals Holland's
as the biggest ever seen on a football shirt. Roberto Carlos lashes his first free
kick high and miles wide after ten minutes, which is annoying because I had seven
minutes in the sweepstake. Three minutes later Brett Emerton has a free kick awarded
against him for being on the receiving end of a knee-high, two footed studs-up sliding
tackle by Roberto Carlos, and is then booked for protesting one of the most ludicrous
refereeing decisions of the World Cup so far. There really are some suspicious early
signs that this referee might be a fucking idiot. Twenty five minutes gone, and
Ronaldinho dances past his marker, plays a wall pass off a team-mate, performs one
stepover, then another, treads on the ball and falls flat on his face. Stick that
in your fucking Nike advert. Tee hee hee hee hee. Today's random English lower-league
side represented by a flag behind one goal is Swindon Town. Ronaldo/Marlon looks
marginally more lively than he did in the last game, but on the other hand so would
an inanimate carbon rod. He gets himself booked for lashing the ball petulantly
into the net after being caught five yards offside, which is the closest he's come
to looking like he gives a toss at any point in this World Cup. Brazil have the
majority of the ball but can't fashion anything close to a scoring chance, Australia
doing a good job of soaking up the pressure and trying to hit on the counter. Nil-nil
at the half, then. Straight after the re-start, the entire Australian defence gets
sucked in toward Marlon/Ronaldo at the edge of the box, the fat lad passes sideways
to a player who isn't completely shit and Adriano has plenty of time to shift the
ball to his stong side and thump it past Schwartzer. Australia have to come forward
now, and ten minutes later get a golden opportunity to equalise when Dida makes
his contribution to the grand tradition of Brazilian goalkeeping blunders, coming
miles out of his goal, flapping at a cross and succeeding only in pushing it into
substitute ("He's Crazy Like A Fool, Harry") Harry Kewell's path. But
with an open goal gaping in front of him the Liverpool winger snatches at the shot
and volleys wildly over the bar. The space that Australia are leaving as they push
on is allowing Brazil to play their game now, and it looks more likely that the
lead will be increased than the Aussies will get an equaliser. And sure enough there
it is, always-last-to-know-it's-raining Robinho finding himself in masses of space,
his drive cannoning off the post into the path of the other substitute Fred who
applies the simplest of finishes from no more than three yards. Brazil are in the
last 16, Australia need to avoid defeat against Croatia to join them.
France 1-1 South Korea France look a completely different team from
the lackadaisical, disinterested collection of has-beens that shambled through ninety
minutes against Switzerland. Nine minutes gone and Henry gives them the lead they
deserve, latching onto a through-ball from former Arsenal team-mate Sylvian Wiltord
and beating the keeper at close range. South Korea don't seem rattled though and
keep pressing forward, but they're lucky not to be two down on the half-hour when
Patrick Viera gets on the end of a corner and powers a downward header that Lee
Woon Jae in the Korean goal just about claws away. Replays suggest strongly that
the ball might have been over the line before it was cleared, and while it doesn't
seem like that's going to be too important given how well the French are playing
at the moment it's strange how often incidents like that come back to bite you on
the arse. It'll be interesting if this - ahem - experienced France team will be
able to keep this pace up all the way through the game. The Korean fans are absolutely
brilliant, spending the entire first half singing their hearts out - every time
the camera cuts to the crowd all you can sea is a mass of red-shirted bodies bouncing
madly up and down. On the whole, it's a good thing that mashed potatoes are so labour-intensive,
because if they weren't there's a decent chance I wouldn't eat anything else. Second
half, same as the first - France are completely and utterly in control, totally
comfortable albeit without really creating another good scoring opportunity and
putting this game to bed. This feels a lot like the England-Paraguay match to be
honest... oh God. Aha. Aha. Aha. Um. Yes, just like the England-Paraguay game except
for one tiny detail. Eighty minutes gone, South Korea get to the byline for roughly
the first time all game, throw in a decent cross that's headed back across goal,
Ji Soon Park sticks his leg out, the ball bounces off his knee, up and over the
stranded Fabien Barthez to loop agonizingly slowly over the line. Suddenly energised,
France throw everything forward for ten minutes' worth of frantic attacking but
the Koreans hold on for a frankly hilarious draw that puts the French in real danger
of not making the second round. Personally, I really really hope South Korea get
out of this group if only for the sake of unarguably the best fans in the tournament.
Portugal 2-0 Iran "Brazil are a good side. There are no bad
sides at this World Cup" opines Craig Moore of Australia, who plainly hasn't
seen the US play yet (sorry, readers!). Asked to name his team of the tournament
so far, charisma-free zone Mark Lawrenson picks - ho ho ho - Argentina's entire
starting 11. How much of our fucking license fee are we paying you, again? As in
the first game, what Iran lack in natural talent they certainly make up for in the
pre-match swap of pennants. Luis Figo hands over a bog-standard poxy little flag
and gets a fucking huge framed Persian carpet in return. The Iranian goal is under
siege in the early going, but the defenders are dying for the cause, throwing themselves
all over the shop to block shots and protect a keeper who looked a bit dodgy last
time out. As in the Angola-Mexico game yesterday though, as the game wears on Iran
grow in confidence and actually fashion a couple of chances - albeit without ever
really looking like scoring - and halftime arrives with the game still goalless.
Lee Dixon waxes surreal - "It looks like he's tickling a dog's stomach"
- while discussing cheating chinless stepover merchant Cristiano "Riverdance"
Ronaldo. Portugal's entire plan for scoring today seems to be 1 - Give it to Ronaldo.
2 - Beat the fullback on the outside. 3 - Throw in a crap cross that hits the first
defender. 4 - Repeat step 1. To be honest, this looks an awful lot like England's
first hour against Trinibago. The deadlock's finally broken when Portugal finally
try something different - Figo pulls out to Ronaldo's wing, cuts inside and lays
the ball across the edge of the penalty box, Deco runs onto it, wallop, one-nil.
"I'll show yez how it's fuckin' done!" Iran make a decent fist of trying
to get back in the game, but Portugal finally make it safe when Figo is brought
down at the corner of the box and Cristiano Ronaldo's Feet Of Flame make no mistake
with the resulting spot-kick. Bollocks.
Czech Republic 0-2 Ghana After a strong start last week, the BBC let
themselves down badly in the Film To Watch An Hour Of Between The End Of The 2 O'Clock
Kickoff And The Start Of The 5 O'Clock Kickoff stakes (FTWAHOBTEOTTOKATSOTFOK, for
short), expecting us to sit through fucking Junior. "An amiable comedy"
reads the writeup on Sky, which is a bit wide of the mark unless "amiable"
has been redefined as meaning "shite". Oh, and "comedy" has
been redefined as "almost entirely humour-free clusterfuck". But hey.
ITV finally find something to talk about other than England, with a piece from the
USAF base near Kaiserslautern, the gist of which is - get this - that Americans
don't know anything about football! Comedy GOLD, ladies and gentlemen. Oh, what's
this? Ghana grab an early early early goal, Asamoah Gyan chesting the ball down
on the edge of the box and thumping it past Petr Cech on the volley. That ought
to make things interesting. It's a nervy old start from the Czechs to be honest,
against a Ghana team who suddenly look full of running and positive intent. The
player names on the shirts of both teams are entirely in lower-case, which is a
bit odd yet fantastically dull at the same time. Cech is by far the busier of the
two goalkeepers and just like they did against Italy Ghana is dominating the middle
third of the pitch with their industry and eagerness to get to fifty-fifty balls.
In the end, the Czechs are pretty lucky to get to the break without conceding again.
ITV manage exactly sixty seconds' worth of halftime analysis of what's been one
of the most interesting games of the tournament so far, instead concentrating on
more patronising of Americans live from Kaiserslautern ("Believe it or not,
we ARE on an army base!" says reporter Ned Boulding excitedly before hurrying
over to interview a fella who's wearing fatigues that are clearly marked "AIR
FORCE") and the Portugal game from earlier in the day (?!?!!???). The penalty
is roundly condemned, Robbie Earle tut-tutting at Figo going down too easily and
informing us that while the English frown on such things it's the way the game's
played in some countries. Yeah, we don't stand for that nonsense in these parts
which is why the likes of Steven Gerrard, Michael Owen and Joe "5.9, 5.8, 6.0,
6.0, 5.9" Cole aren't allowed anywhere near the England team. Um. It looks
for a second that the Czechs are back on level terms a minute after the re-start,
but Nedved's header is chalked off for offside. An hour gone, and a great chance
for Ghana in the box is ended by Ujfalusi crudely hacking down the striker, resulting
in his dismissal. But despite sending the keeper the wrong way Gyan's penalty comes
pinging back out from the inside of the post, and Ghana have squandered ANOTHER
chance to settle the game. They pour forward forcing save after save from the magnificent
Cech but STILL can't break through - honestly, it was easier to kill off Bruce Willis
in the Die Hard films than the Czechs today. Finally, in the 82nd minute Sulley
Muntari ends a nice passing move by just putting his foot through it and the ball
bulges the roof of the net to confirm the biggest upset of the competition so far.
Lordy! It's not big or clever to find foreign players' names funny, but every time
the commentators mention the name of Ghanaian sub Razak Pimpong it brings a little
warmth into the heart of your humble correspondent.
Italy 1-1 USA I mean yes, this
year's piss-poor effort isn't terribly sorely missed, but surely you can't be
stupid enough to put out something called England
The Album and not include the only
decent official World Cup song in the history of the universe, can you? And
even if you did, you wouldn't have the nerve to advertise it as including "All
your World Cup favourites!", would you? Because unless "you" have
severe brain damage, the absolute most optimistic assessment has to be "All
(but one) of your World Cup favourites!" Buffoons. It looks like it's going
to be a predictable cruise for the slick Italians against one of the worst sides
in the tournament when absolutely hopeless defending from a free-kick allows Gilardino
a free header that he powers past a helpless Kasey Keller. Then things go absolutely
bonkers. First Zaccardo makes an absolute lash-up of a simple clearance, slicing
the ball at exactly 180 degrees from the direction he was intending and sending
it spinning into his own net for the equaliser. Then Daniele De Rossi goes up to
challenge Brian "Aw, GEE!" McBride for a high ball and calmly elbows the
American striker in the face - stupid at the best of times, utterly insane when
the referee is standing five yards away looking straight at you. Red card, and suddenly
the USA look favourites for a shock victory. Buuuuuuut their advantage lasts just
fifteen minutes before US midfielder Pablo Mastroeni slides in two-footed on Pirlo
and earns a slightly harsh straight red for his trouble - 10 v. 10. And then 10
v. 9 two minutes after halftime, this time Eddie Pope is the man to walk, a vastly
unnecessary challenge from behind his second bookable offence. "I think
that might swing the advantage back to the Italians" gibbers David Pleat.
Oh you think so, Doctor? It looks like a miracle has arrived just after the hour
mark when DaMarcus Beasley - who was loudly described by yours truly as "the
worst player at the tournament" when he came on as substitute a few minutes
ago - hits a wonderful low drive past Gianluigi Buffon in the Italian goal. But
- oh cruel fate, why do you mock us? - it's disallowed, Brian McBride adjudged to
have been "interfering with play" standing in an offside position as the
ball whistled past him. The USA are clinging on now, showing far more defensive
organisation than they did against the Czechs to repeatedly catch the Italian strikers
offside ("Pirlo got a yard and a half ahead of himself there" -
Peter Drury). With fifteen minutes to go, Kasey Keller pulls off the save of the
tournament so far - a lovely dinked pass over the US backline and Alessandro Del
Piero is on it like a ferret up a trouserleg, the flying volley with the outside
of his left boot looks goalbound all the way until Keller somehow gets his fingertips
to the ball at full stretch and more, clawing it away from the danger zone. Wonderful
football all round. It's all nine USA players within twenty yards of the goal-line
for the last ten minutes, soaking up relentless Italian pressure but in the end
time runs out on easily the most incident-packed game to date. With this and Ghana's
win earlier, any of the four teams in Group D are still capable of going through
to the second round, and any of the four teams might still be on the next flight
home. Magic!
Argentina 6-0 Serbia & Montenegro Hey, it's return of the groovy
typeface! It looked great on the Ukraine, and it looks great on S&M (tee hee
hee). Like they did against Holland, Serbia & Montenegro look a good side but
are a goal down early. Crespo screws up a great chance to put his team two up by
going for a ball with his foot instead of trying to head it - possibly not wanting
to mess his hair up, the big Jessie. S&M's keeper kit has a funky "spider's
web" pattern around the armpits, continuing the Spiderman theme that Kaviedes
started yesterday. A gorgeous piece of pass-and-move football leads to Cambiaso
- who's heroically trying to ignore the fact he's going bald - doubling Argentina's
lead, and you have to think that clawing back two goals is probably beyond a team
who are relying on Savo Missalotovich and The Comedy Stylings Of Mateja Kezman up
front. Championship Manager legend Saviola sets up a third, and my pick of Argentina
to win the tournament is looking good. My pick of Serbia and Montenegro to get to
the quarter-finals somewhat less so. Ten minutes into the second half Argentina
have a free kick just outside the area for which S&M form a seven-man wall,
something I can't remember having seen before anywhere, ever. Adding insult to injury,
The Idiot Kezman earns himself a straight red for an insane two-footed clog, and
Argentina score three more times late on to put the tin lid on a massively disappointing
performance from Serbia & Montenegro. A crowd shot after the sixth goal shows
a fella wearing a Miami Dolphins #81, Randy McMichael jersey, who might be just
a teensy weensy bit lost.
Holland 2-1 Ivory Coast The first shot of Johan Cruyff looking on with
an "I could have done better than that" expression is after twelve minutes,
which is annoying because I had five minutes in the sweepstake. "Odd name
for a country", says Lori of the Ivory Coast. I was just about to come
back with "Aaaaaah, but loads of country names are just descriptions!",
but could only think of Iceland as a f'rinstance. So yeah. Odd name for a country.
With Argentina spanking S&M (tee hee hee hee) earlier, the Ivorians desperately
need a win here, while a victory for the Oranje will see them safely though to the
knockout stages. Whining diving cheating hateful Gooner wanker Robin van Persie
puts the Dutch ahead with a cannonball of a free-kick that beats the keeper all
ends up at his near post. Five minutes later whining diving cheating hateful Manchester
United wanker Ruud van Nistelrooy makes it two, springing the offside trap on the
edge of the box and slamming the ball into the roof of the net. And five minutes
later whining diving cheating hateful Chelsea wanker Arjen Robben gets a yellow
card for... uh, whining, diving and cheating. Kone gets one back for The Forces
Of Non-Wankerness (Plus Didier Drogba) with a magnificent surging run ending in
a shot lofted across Edwin van der Sar and into the top corner. Stupidest advert
of the tournament so far goes to Hyundai with their "car exploding into thousands
of footballs" effort. What's the message here, exactly? "Buy our cars,
they have the most useless and impractical feature in the history of automotive
engineering"? Ho hum. The Ivorians keep their patience in the second half,
resisting the temptation to just hump the ball forward in Drogba's direction and
instead trying to build through the midfield in exactly the same way that England
don't. They live in Holland's half and force a string of corners with the Dutch
getting increasingly nervy but don't get the reward their performance deserves.
"You have to credit them for trying to play football," opines Gareth
Southgate doubtfully, "but they just need to throw it into the box now!"
Still looking like a long season ahead for Boro fans, then.
Mexico 0-0 Angola Mexican manager Ricardo La Volpe "Looks.
And acts. And sounds. Like a pirate", according to commentator Jon Champion,
making your humble correspondent pretty keen to catch his next press conference.
"Arrrrrrr, we let the scurvy Iranian lubbers score, me back four will be gettin'
a lick o' the cat!" Mexico win this and they're in the second round, and given
that the runner up in this group will likely be playing the scarily in-form Argentineans
there's plenty of incentive to grab as many points as humanly possible. To judge
by the early going, Angola's main goal here seems to be avoiding humiliation the
same way it was in the Portugal game and it seems like just a matter of time before
one of Mexico's careful, well-crafted attacks breaks them down. The Mexicans can't
quite get their noses in front, though, and as the half goes on you can sense Angola's
confidence growing. La Volpe has apparently been reprimanded by FIFA for "excessive
smoking", which you have to admit is ace. Mexico huff and puff but don't look
anything like as sharp and incisive as they did against Iran. With ten minutes to
go Angola go down to ten men when defender Andre deliberately handles the ball to
prevent a break and is sent off for a second yellow card. "They have to
treat the ball as a friend, the Angolans..." - Champion. Do what, Jon?
Even then, Mexico can't make their advantage tell and are booed off as Angola just
about hang on for their first point in World Cup final history. Shiver me timbers.
Ecuador 3-0 Costa Rica Naturally, with England coming up after we get
not so much as a minute's analysis of the actual game that we're tuning in to watch
in the pre-kickoff jibber-jabber. Bottom line - Ecuador win and they're in the knockout
stages along with Germany, Costa Rica win and it all comes down to the last round
of games next week. Given the respective performances, you'd have to expect a pretty
straightforward win for the South Americans, and with eight minutes gone they score
a pretty straightforward goal - Carlos Tenorio escaping his marker to power a header
into the net from inside the six yard box. After the ace
font on the Ukrainians' shirts yesterday, it warrants mentioning that Costa
Rica have the best
font in international football - a sort of big jolly, rounded affair that wouldn't
look out of place in the titles of an early seventies sex comedy. Costa Rica start
the second half in lively fashion, but get hit with a bit of a sucker punch - De
La Cruz beating the keeper at the near post and that, you feel, is game over. Ivan
Kaviedes, who was utterly useless when I had him at Watford in Championship Manager,
supplies a neat finish from close range with the outside of his right boot then
for reasons best known to himself produces a yellow Spiderman mask out of his pants,
pops it over his head and runs around scaring the cameramen. As you do.
England 2-0 Trinidad & Tobago It shouldn't need mentioning but it
does - the T&T national anthem is immaculately observed by the supporters. And
Jamie Carragher is the only England player not singing along to God Save The Queen.
Gary Neville didn't in the last game, so it's obviously a right-back thing. If England
play the way they normally do against dodgy teams, this will end in a very stressful
2-0 - usually with an earlyish goal, a long period of wobbling and uncertainty in
which the minnows go close a couple of times, then a goal late on to (finally) make
things safe. It's HARD FUCKING WORK supporting England in these things. If there
aren't as many whimsical irrelevancies in this as some of the other reports, apologies.
Anyway, from the off it's obvious how this is going to go - eleven men behind the
ball from Trinny & Tabasco, they're going to offer nothing, make themselves
hard to break down and try to nick a goal from a set piece or counterattack. And
they are hard to break down. Really, really, really hard to break down. Sweden couldn't
manage it on Saturday, largely because of comedy finishing, and England for the
most part aren't even getting to the point where their comedy finishing can kick
in. Right on the verge of half-time, Peter Crouch lashes a close-range shot a mile
wide when he had all the time in the world to take another touch, and at the other
end John Terry has to hook the ball out from under the crossbar after Paul Robinson
lashes up yet ANOTHER cross. Jiminy Cricket. Can't bear to listen to the halftime
analysis, so it's fifteen minutes of Virtua Fighter Evolution. Eat Dragon Cannon
Kick, assorted garishly-dressed martial-arts types! Fifteen minutes of huffing and
puffing in the second half, and Sven throws caution to the wind - the massively
out-of-sorts Owen replaced up front by Rooney, and - more interestingly - Carragher
off from fullback to make way for tiny speedy Aaron Lennon. Despite what Gareth
fucking Southgate is tut-tut-tutting in the commentary box about how England aren't
leaving enough men back to defend and that a draw is an acceptable result (looking
forward to next season, Middlesborough fans?), Eriksson's rightly going all-out
for the win. In the first ten minutes after the change, England make more chances
than they have in the previous hour, but T&T weather the storm and it looks
like the game might peter out to a limp 0-0 draw. Then a lovely crossfiield pass
from Stuart Downing sucks defenders toward Lennon who nods it back to Beckham. The
skipper uses the time and space to whip a gorgeous cross right onto Crouch's head
and the big lad makes absolutely no mistake. Thank FUCK for that. England's first
goal in the second half of a World Cup finals game in ten attempts, apparently.
And five minutes later, Steven Gerrard crashes in a second, a gorgeous drive from
the edge of the box that gives Shaka Hislop absolutely no chance. They made bloody
heavy weather of that, but two games, six points, into the knockout rounds, Rooney
fit, performance slowly improving. England have started tournaments worse.
Sweden 1-0 Paraguay To make the last games of the group interesting,
the neutral has to be hoping for at least a point from Paraguay, to leave all the
teams in the group with a chance to take the second qualifying place. Both teams
are going to want to win this to keep qualification for the next round in their
own hands, but then you'd have thought that about the Germany-Poland game last night,
too. Sweden start in aggressive fashion, obviously not wanting to repeat the casual
attitude from the first hour of the Trinny & Tabasco game. Paraguay begin by
kicking everything wearing yellow. Wilhelmsson's hair seems a wee bit more subdued
tonight, which is a pity. Useless whinging bastard Zlatan Ibrahimovich is off for
the Swedes at half time ("I saw him go off rubbing his groin area"
- David Pleat, tee hee hee), replaced by useless non-whinging non-bastard Marcus
Allback. An hour gone, and Paraguay's offside trap is sprung - unfortunately by
Allback, who on the evidence of the T&T game couldn't hit a cow's arse with
a banjo. He lifts the ball over the onrushing keeper, but Denis Caniza comes out
of nowhere to somehow clear the ball before it can bounce across the goal-line.
Sweden have looked as good in the first two thirds of the pitch as any team in the
tournament, to be honest, but a combination of inspired goalkeeping and comically
inept striking "talent" has somehow conspired to keep them goalless...
until the 88th minute, when an Allback header that might or might not have been
intended as a shot at goal finds Freddie Ljungberg steaming in at the far post to
put his side ahead. Paraguay are out, and Sweden can top the group if they beat
England next week - or go out if they lose and Trinny & Tabasco win against
Paraguay. Oooh!
Spain 4-0 Ukraine Discussing Spain's perennial underachievement in major
tournaments, Ruud Gullit makes the point that it's possible their team don't click
because a good chunk of the squad don't consider themselves to be Spanish. Gabby
Yorath then spectacularly misses the point, saying that she finds it "amazing
that you can't click together when you're representing your country at the World
Cup." Of course, it's possible Ruud doesn't know what he was saying either,
because immediately after he claims that it's a similar situation to the US not
clicking as a team at the Ryder Cup (ah yes, that noted team sport, er, golf. And
remind me which states don't consider themselves American, again?). Kits that are
all in one colour seem to be the vogue this year, the Ukraine's all-yellow number
another example. The font on the back is great, though, a sort of hard-edged italic
affair that looks like it should be forming the title of an eighties action flick.
Spain grab the lead after about ten minutes, "Louie" Garcia (David
Pleat) getting between defenders to nod a corner home Five minutes later it's two
- yet another goal from a free kick, this one taking a massive deflection off the
wall .to wrong-foot the keeper and fly into the undefended net. Bad becomes worse
when the Ukraine have a man harshly sent off for an almost imperceptible tug on
Fernando Torres' shorts as the Spanish striker springs the offside trap, and David
Villa tucks away the resulting penalty to stick a fork in the game. Pity, this promised
to be one of the more interesting matches of the opening round, but while Spain
are the better side and probably deserve the three points, the game's been killed
as a spectacle because the luck has all gone one way. Ho hum. "A goal that
smacked of desire, of hunger, of togetherness, of cohesion!" gushes Peter
Drury of Spain's fourth. Okay, Pete, but you might be reading just a teensy bit
too much into it. After all, it's pretty easy to be together and cohesive when you're
three up against ten men. Let's see if they look quite so All For One And One For
All when things aren't going their way, eh?
Tunisia 2-2 Saudi Arabia Tunisia grab the opener after twenty minutes,
a scrappy scramble in the box ending with Jaziri clobbering a lovely volley past
the keeper at close range. Bouazizi, the Tunisian skipper, bears a striking resemblance
to Hollywood's go-to Hispanic Luis
Guzman, albeit with much bigger hair. In a new low, ITV don't manage so much
as thirty seconds' analysis of the game that people have actually tuned in to watch
before going to a report from the England camp. For GOD'S SAKE. The makers of The
Fast And The Furious really missed a trick not calling the sequel The Faster And
The Even More Furious, because then the third film could have been The Fastest And
The Most Furious. Plus, you'd have had the option of a prequel called The Moderately
Quick And The Bit Miffed. Idiots! Tunisia largely ran the game in the first half,
but the Saudis up the tempo for the second, and get their just reward ten minutes
after the restart - Mohammed Noor darts down the right channel and whips in a lovely
low cross that Al Khatani bludgeons into the roof of the net at the near post. Game
on! After eighty-some minutes, Saudi Arabia throw on their all-time leading goalscorer
Sami Al Jaber, and barely a minute later he nets his 44th international goal to
put his side in front - the Tunisian offside trap sprung from halfway, Al Jaber
keeping his cool and slotting under the keeper. It's all looking good, and a couple
of chances to increase the lead go begging before Jaidi pops up out of nowhere with
a close-range header to see the points shared. What a finish! What a way to fuck
up my prediction pool pick of 2-1 to Saudi Arabia!
Germany 1-0 Poland "There's already been a massive invasion
of Polish fans into Germany. Some sort of irony there," says Gary Lineker,
the cock. It's going to be a long fucking evening, isn't it? The atmosphere in the
stadium pre-kickoff is lively, as you might expect given the geography and the fact
that this is a huge game for both teams - a German victory guarantees them progress
to the next round, while if Poland don't win they're almost certainly out of the
competition. It takes less than three minutes for the first yellow card of a decidedly
tasty opening, but then things seem to settle down a bit (ie, Poland stop kicking
everything that moves). Every time they're in a hurry, our commentary team of Simon
Wilson and Mick McCarthy are pronouncing Poland right-back Michal Zewlakow's name
as "Jerkoff", which is a wee bit unfortunate. Poland seem absolutely oblivious
to the fact that a draw does them basically no good at all and dig in to try and
make sure they get out of this game with a practically useless point. Sebastian
Schweinsteiger's name is a lot of fun to shout in a German accent. A second bookable
offence from Sobolewski sees the Poles down to ten men and from there on it's entirely
one-way traffic. Germany make very heavy weather of it, but just as it looks like
the game's destined to end goalless, Oliver Neuville gets on the end of a low cross
to smash the ball home, putting Germany into the next round and sending a pretty
poor Polish team home. Justice done, really. There's something strangely endearing
about this new-look attack-Attack-ATTACK! German team.
South Korea 2-1 Togo The BBC are going with possibly the best but certainly
the ugliest panel of pundits of the World Cup so far - the alarmingly ginger Gordon
Strachan, the alarmingly tiny-faced Marcel Desailly, and the just alarming Iain
Dowie. Togo are playing in yellow shirts and green shorts, making it look like Norwich
have qualified for the World Cup, while South Korea's shirts and socks are a colour
that can only be described as "Highlighter Pen Pink". The stadium PA operator
accidentally plays the South Korean anthem twice, leading to lingering shots of
very confused Togolese players. Togo's manager, Otto Pfister, is going for the open-necked-shirt
stroke large-medallion look last seen on the Bee Gees. Commentary makes mention
that Togo's population of five and a half million is the reason they've recruited
players from other countries for their squad. "They're not the only ones
doing that," tuts Mark Bright disapprovingly, perhaps forgetting England's
Canadian/German Owen Hargreaves. Or perhaps not. After half an hour of scrappy,
tedious football a goal arrives out of nothing - a long ball sees Mohammed Kader
nip between the Korean centrebacks and lash the ball into the bottom corner from
a trickyish angle. Togo go down to ten men ten minutes into the second half for
a crude professional foul on the edge of the box, and are doubly punished when Lee
Jong Soo swerves the free kick past the keeper to level the score. From there on
out it's all Korea, and Ahn smashes in the winner from the edge of the box with
fifteen minutes to go.
France 0-0 Switzerland France's national anthem is great, right up there
with Germany, the US and Britain in the "inspiring to mindless death-or-glory
bloodlust" stakes. Our co-commentator for today is Mick McCarthy, because obviously
a man with a relentlessly monotone speaking voice, whose last job was guiding a
team to the lowest point total in the history of the English top division is ideally
suited to offer his opinion on international football. A lot of pre-game opinion
has tipped the young Swiss side to upset a largely over-the-hill France, but it's
hard to get too excited about a team who can find a regular starting spot for Phillipe
Senderos. France have a touch of Arsenal Syndrome - for all their pretty play in
the final third they look a little bit reluctant to take shots on goal, squandering
opportunities by consistently playing one pass too many. Switzerland, meanwhile,
are pretty much the same sort of team they've been for the last umpteen championships
- neat, tidy, hardworking but lacking a bit of class. France seem to get heavier
and heavier in the legs as the game grinds on, and as the Swiss start to fashion
a few chances the BBC cameras show us Zidane having a frank and thorough exchange
of views with assorted team-mates. His side huff and puff but never seriously threaten
to break the deadlock, and the game eventually peters out into the 0-0 draw that
looked a nailed-on certainty after half an hour. With all due respect to England-Paraguay,
probably the worst game of the competition so far.
Brazil 1-0 Croatia Tediously predictable verbal fellatio for the Brazilians
from assorted BBC talking heads, making them sound like a cross between Melchester
Rovers and the fucking X-Men, but - and you can quote me - I'm not sure this is
the team it was four years ago. They'll still probably win it because most of the
other contenders have regressed too, but beyond Ronaldinho and Adriano there's nothing
terribly scary here. Croatia still have their lovely faux-gingham red and white
checked shirts, which bring back happy memories of Davor Suker chipping bigmouthed
Danish tosspot Peter Schmeichel at Euro '96. They obviously aren't here to be cannon
fodder either, creating at least as many chances in the early going as the favourites
do. You'd never know by the commentary, though - John Motson practically having
an orgasm every time someone in a yellow shirt touches the ball. Right on the stroke
of halftime Kaka scores a goal right out of Sensible Soccer - a curling thump from
just outside the D that leaves the keeper with no chance. Bugger. Croatia are all
over Brazil to start the second half - the traditional Brazilian trait of being
hopeless at defending set pieces seems to be alive and well. "You almost
get the feeling with Brazil that if they do concede a goal they'll just go and score
another one." - Motty. "Well, it's their philosophy, isn't it?"
- Mark Lawrenson. So Brazil's football philosophy is - gasp - scoring more goals
than the opposition? Crazy. It'll never catch on. Then an orgy of self-congratulation
in the commentary box as Mystic Lawro somehow manages to predict that the slow,
tubby, bone-idle, miles-off-the-pace, plainly-can't-be-bothered Ronaldo is going
to be substituted. The Croats go close three or four times but in the end can't
quite get the equaliser they deserve. Arse.
Australia 3-1 Japan Scenes in the pre-game nonsense of the Australia
team celebrating qualification for the tournament with famous Australian... er...
John Travolta. Big-boned Mark "Cartman" Viduka almost scores early with
a sharp chance from a tight angle. "When he's up for it he'll trouble any
team in the world!" coos his new manager Gareth Southgate in the commentary
box, somehow failing to finish the thought "...of course,
most of the time he's a fat, lazy, useless bastard." Clive "That Night
In Barcelona" Tyldesley describes the face-protection that Japanese defender
Miyamoto wore in the last tournament as "a Batman-style mask".
But AS ANY FULE NO the Dark Knight Detective wore a bloody cowl, so OBVIOUSLY Clive
really should have said "a Green Lantern-style mask". How
they let these commentators near a microphone without even the most rudimentary
knowledge of the Justice League Of America is a mystery. Japan grab the lead as
an intended cross from Nakamura bounces untouched into the net, with Clive and Gareth
having apoplexy in the booth as Aussie keeper (and coincidentally yet another of
Southgate's new employees) Mark Schwartzer is impeded coming for the cross, both
claiming an "obvious foul" despite replays clearly showing that the Japanese
striker in question never even saw the goalie coming, having his eyes on the ball
all the way. Australia respond in the way you'd expect from a team containing Lucas
Neill - by spending the next ten minutes kicking anything wearing blue up in the
air. Things slow down in the second half with the heat getting to both teams, but
neither side looks remotely like scoring... until with five minutes to go Japan
have a nailed-on penalty appeal turned down, Australia go straight down the other
end and a scrappy scramble in the box sees Tim Cahill poke in an equaliser. Three
minutes later the same lad rifles in a thunderbolt from the edge of the box for
a hugely lucky victory, and "Next up Brazil, bring 'em on!" squeals
Clive excitedly of his new favourite team as John Aloisi slots home an insult-to-injury
third, which may be a teensy-weensy bit of an overreaction.
USA 0-3 Czech Republic What does it say about the relative strength
of CONCACACACACACACACACAF and UEFA when this is the Czech Republic's first World
Cup while the US have qualified for the last five? Brian McBride is possibly the
most quintessentially American-looking man in the world. He looks ready to shout
"Aw, GEE!" at a split-second's notice. Meanwhile, Pavel Nedved is the
spit of Dr. McCartney in Green Wing, and nobody in the stadium seems to know the
words to the Czech national anthem. Goals in the first few minutes seem to be a
bit of a recurring theme in the tournament thus far, and this time the Czechs get
in behind fullback Eddie Lewis (whose last known wherabouts prior to this game was
in Lloyd Doyley's pocket) and fricking enormous Easter Island statue lookalike Jan
Koller finishes a simple, precise move with a thumping header to put the European
team ahead. As with every other game so far in which one team's scored early, though,
the opposition quickly right the ship and the US dominate possession for the first
half-hour, albeit without really threatening. The Czechs look happy to play on the
break and sure enough, ten minutes from half-time Arsenal's Tomas Rosicky doubles
the advantage from twenty-five yards. It's not all good news for them, though, as
straight afterwards Koller is stretchered off with what looks like a hamstring pull.
There's a large Welsh flag draped over the tunnel at one corner of the ground, instantly
representing Wales' most successful World Cup performance since 1958. The BBC panel
manage five minutes of analysis of the game before starting to rattle on about England.
Again. Still, we learn that Michael Owen's nickname is "Mo", so it wasn't
a complete waste of time. In a related note, commentary box double-act Simon Brotherton
and Gavin Peacock are probably the best either channel has managed to this point
- thoughtful, quietly insightful, largely resisting the urge to patronise the shit
out of the US team and not banging on about England every thirty seconds. Pity they
won't get a sniff of working any "big" games, really. And no sooner is
that said than Brotherton offers that "The USA are still trying to win their
first game against European opposition in a World Cup final" then almost
immediately follows up with, "They'll have to go some to repeat their result
of the opening game in 2002, when they beat Portugal." Thanks, bastard.
After I was talking you up, too. Rosicky wraps up the game against probably the
worst team seen so far in the tournament, finishing another lovely move with a confident
dink over the onrushing Kasey Keller in the 75th minute. Tom Clancy! Payton Manning!
Charton Heston! Jimmy Carter! Cyndi Lauper! Your boys took a hell of a beating!
Italy 2-0 Ghana The training shirts Italy are wearing for the warmups
have a sort've feathered blue oval under the armpits, making them look like the
"before" photo in a deodorant advert. Early on, Richard Kingston between
the sticks for Ghana seems like he might be the Achilles heel of a team who otherwise
look pretty handy - his tendency to come out and flap hopefully at crosses is rather
reminiscent of a young David James. Italy's all-blue kit is absolutely lovely, except
that there are no fewer than three large manufacturer's logos on the shirt. The
game's a wide-open affair - Ghana are quick and incisive, overrunning the midfield
while Italy are looking to hit hard on the break. Both sides go close a couple of
times before a wee bit of defensive indecision on the edge of the Ghanaian box gives
Pirlo all the time in the world to pick his spot - and he chooses the far bottom
corner of the net though a crowd of players, thanks very much. Italian striker Iaquinta
displays the kind of skill you can only learn in Serie A - turning to the referee
with your arm up to appeal for a penalty even while you're still in the process
of tumbling theatrically to the ground. Iaquinta is carried off the pitch on a stretcher
only to miraculously recover as soon as he's on the sideline, and three minutes
later he makes the game safe after the Ghanaian defence's seventieth misplaced pass
of the second half. Italy will have to improve if they're going to beat the classy
Czechs and avoid Brazil in the next round.
Serbia & Montenegro 0-1 Netherlands The first mention in commentary
of the 1974 "Total Football" Dutch team is ten seconds before kickoff,
which is annoying because I had "A minute into the game" in the sweepstake.
Holland's kit is even more orange than usual, especially for Arjen Robben who's
gone with orange boots making him look like a character from a colouring book owned
by an impatient kid with a highlighter pen. Nice to see Mateja Kezman again, who's
been sorely missed since he took his slapstick comedy stylings from Chelsea and
still strongly resembles a Dutch Nu-Metal fan - "Hey, have you lishchened
to de Schlipknot? Dey ROCK!" S&M (heh heh heh) have easily the
better of the opening exchanges but ship a goal when Robben springs a spectacularly
ill-advised offiside trap from the halfway line. Holland have a couple of chances
to put the game away but on the whole Serbia and Montenegro are a bit unlucky to
come away with nothing. Any two from the four teams in this group would be well
worthy of getting through to the knockout stages.
Mexico 3-1 Iran ITV are 1-0 down in the "Films To Watch An Hour
Of In The Gap Between The End Of The 2:00
