Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Tie that Binds

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There it was.

Another edition of the world's greatest single-sport spectacle has come and gone, leaving in it's wake the scattered debris of the planet's football zealots and a persistent ringing in the ears from tens of thousands of vuvuzelas howling at once for a show. The show came to South Africa and has now left and returned to the ether of expectations, building for the next cup four years from now in Brazil.

But the present one is still fresh. Played only yesterday, the Final came down to Spain and Holland. The weeks-long build up of sixty-some games involving 32 teams from all over. So what were hot games? What were choice moments?

The opening game of South Africa v. Mexico was thrilling. No host nation team has ever lost a Cup opener. By having South Africa be that host, the jubilant struggle of Africa was more immediate, if not overstated. The game against Mexico seemed to have equanimity. Mexico and South Africa; it's a beautiful thing. The cup's first goal was among it's greatest; Tshabalala of the host nation scored a tremendous strike to the back of the net. Golazo! Barcelona's Rafa Marquez answered the goal with a nice sneak past the keeper about seven minutes later. The game drew; the host nation loss-less streak continues.

The USA game vs. England. A dork-shot strike snuck by the english keeper -- it just puttered through his butterfingers. England drew with the States to the accompanying jeers of the British press and the team never got any footing at all in the cup from there out. The USA played very well in the cup this year. They finished at the top of their group (ahead of England) and demonstrated an ability to make moments happen. Harrowing goals in the late minutes and two game winning goals denied by the referees. Still, they came out at the hands of Ghana.

Ghana's lone star flag proved tell-tale of Africa's cup prospects. After the first round, Ghana was the only African nation left represented on the field. Though there were sparks of greatness, there were also tough expectations and scandals unsettling the teams. Didiér Drogba played with a broken elbow he'd sustained against Japan in a warm-up match. Eto'o remained magnetic, but diminished from years past. Both of them were sole star-players on squads that had difficulty in going all the way to wins.

But the real eerie weird bitterness came courtesy of the Nigerian team. They'd only had their coach for a few short months. They were booked last minute into an economy hotel until the coach supposedly-intervened. After their quick dispersal from the tournament, the team returned to Nigeria, their president Goodluck Jonathan ordering their suspension for two-years. FIFA stepped in and put that political involvement down within a day.

Photobucketah, yes.

FIFA also stepped in to silence Sarkozy for his proposed investigation of the French national team following their total breakdown. BROKE DOWN!!! The team collapsed completely amid coach-player(s) scandal: 'You're an asshole' 'You're going home' 'You can't send him home, we're going on strike'...Guess what? They lose; Everybody goes home.

Japan had a good showing. They played with guts and were the first team to get the hang of the ball on free-kicks. The blond guy for them who plays for CSKA Moscow was badass. Their loss to Paraguay in penalty kicks was one of the most moving of the cup. The Ghanaian loss to Uruguay was another heart-wrencher. A shambling bitter disaster that was awash in lost opportunities for the last African nation left for the quarter-finals.

But Uruguay was too strong. The most competitive and driven team at the cup--at least visibly. They wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Their captain, Diego Forlan, was coming off his best season of professional play. He blew the doors off until the team's fourth place finish two days ago against Germany.

The Germans were fantastic. They were these young guys that seemed really focused and driven to the goal. To see the Germans rout Argentina's team was stunning. Argentina had played with guts and seemed very confident in the tournament. Leo Messi showed his creativity with the ball and even captained the team to a 2-0 win against Greece with Maradona playing his B-team. But no goals for the pitúfo.

PhotobucketDiegito throws the new ball back

Germany broke down Argentina with twice the effectivity and none of the shady-calls that worked to Argentina's favor when they knocked out Mexico. 4-0, Germany made them look like petulant punks. The German team was younger than the Argentine super-stars, and they took the big-dogs to school. Bad as the Germans were, they had to settle for third after falling to Spain.

The spanish team under-performed for the most part. They relied too much on the midfield. The constant patter of their passing --back-and-forth!--back-and-back-and-back-and-forth! - it was great to watch, but it nullified their opponents so effectively that it took out the goals from the equation. Consequently, every Spanish win ends in like 1-0 or occasionally 2-1.

Watching Spain, we were basically watching Barcelona play with a greater goalie (the intensely talented keeper from R. Madrid, Iker Casillas), and a Messi-less attack. Seven players from Barça on the field at anytime. The midfield routine that Xavi, Iniesta and Busquets have been developing has been focused almost entirely on Messi. So where did the goals come from? David Villa. The new pre-cup signing from Valencia. He lit it up. His first goal was a stunner, along with a fun shot from way outside after he caught the Chilean goalie out of the box.

But the baddest of the Spanish goals weren't from the usual strikers. It was Carles Puyol in the header that beat Germany. Barça's captain had a fucking great cup. He proved to be the man to beat for would-be strikers from all over. His locking up with Pique was almost always a wall.

The true master player of the team had to be Andres Iniesta. Though Xavi is key to make-plays, he very rarely shoots and scores. When Iniesta won the cup with a Goal at the end of overtime, he pulled off his shirt and ran to the corner as he did when he scored the extra time goal for Barça that sent Chelsea packing and advanced Barcelona to the Champion's League final (where they beat Manchester United) in 2009.

PhotobucketIniesta and Eto'o celebrate in London, 2009

While David Villa settled into a groove with his future Barça boys, no one at all seemed to click with Fernando Torres, himself no exception. The Liverpool striker had terrific goals before injuries recently took their toll. So for the last two games of the cup, as I hoped, the coach Del Bosque sat Torres and started with Pedro. My man from Barcelona who was born in the Canary Islands. Why hasn't Anthony Bourdain gone there yet? Can I go there?? They eat little bony fish. I'm sure of it.

Spain is an easier place to hate if you haven't been there. The conquest history is too brutal to forget over football. But to hate the Spanish team is like hating Picasso and Miró. It is to not walk through their Southern streets and find them so familiar to ones we know from Mexico and Puerto Rico, Cuba and Colombia.

It's the nationalism about the cup that is distasteful. Even more so than hand-balls and vicious kicks on the field. It's the old-world beef that we bring to the game that is supposed to be beautiful. When you break through the crushing coal and the diamond shines in front of you, the cup is better than gold.

PhotobucketMiró