Sorry this is so late. Work and not-work (read as soccer and drinking) got way in the way. Group G starts tomorrow at 10, with Cote d’Ivoire and Portugal. Today is two parts: recap of the weekend (and my crap predictions) followed by, obvs., Group G. Enjoy and, as always, mea copa.
The easiest way out of this is to say “that’s why they play the games.” And, it’s true. If these things ever went exactly true to form, they’d stop playing them. March Madness doesn’t see four #1 seeds advance to the Final Four; the Super Bowl rarely sees the best teams from each conference; the World Series almost never matches up the two highest win-totals against one another. Upsets featuring Cinderellas — and the faceplants from the favored teams that upsets require — make playoffs and tournaments exciting. If it were rote, we’d stop watching.
Still, by noon on Friday, I realized this tournament would not go as I had planned it. The South Africans played a fantastic game against Mexico. France and Uruguay looked as if they’d rather be just about anywhere else so long as it didn’t involve soccer. Perhaps it was the nerviness of playing on the tournament’s first day. Maybe it was simply that I’d under-estimated South Africa and over-played Mexico’s resurgence since firing Sven. Whatever. That was a miss.
Greece playing unwatchable soccer, however? Right. On. Good glorious Jesus in heaven, if your Father were just, no one would ever have to watch Greece play again. Good Korea absolutely hammered them, and looked a legit side in the process. Since, however, we don’t know the depths of Greece’s awfulness as we’ve nothing to compare it, I’m willing to stick with Nigeria nicking them for second. Argentina came out firing, making Maradona look positively genius if a bit like a used car salesman. But Nigeria were anything but inept, especially with their keeper apparently the only one who has a clue about stopping the new ball in use for the tournament (about which, more in a minute).
Speaking of shitty keepers — again! prescience from me! — Robert Green elicited the following two texts to my phone:
Grumpy Bear – Is this not England’s usual keeper?
AEL – Good thing Green doesn’t live in South America or he’d be shot for that.
Can’t say I disagree with those assessments. It was absolutely shocking. Absolutely fucking dire. And made worse by the fact that Tim Howard (TIMMAY!) had no trouble ensuring the ball hit him square in the chest in a great effort. Also, in me being right news: our central defense was continually caught out*, pairing anyone with Altidore while pinning Dempsey and Donovan back with defensive duty led to fewer chances than we could have had, and Rico Clark was hands-down responsible for the England goal even if it was Onyewu caught watching. I don\’t expect any changes in that, though I’d like not to be right in this case. Also in group C, those other teams are dreadful and if the US doesn’t go out with 7 points, it should be a huge disappointment. The Algerian keeper almost saved — almost! — Green from the worst moment of the weekend.
And those 7 points will be huge, because if they pick them all up, the US can sneak into the driver’s seat as group winner. And that would be a worthwhile prize because either Germany is considerably better than I imagined them to be or Australia are fucking trash (also, remember that Tim Cahill is the devil and even if that red card was remarkably soft — about which, more later, again! — he deserved it for being an unsavory person of ill-repute). The Germans put on a master-class of attacking soccer and I hope that some of you watched it. The angles and channels were very obvious, and could have helped a relative newcomer understand the way the game works. Serbia proved to be a fairly adept defensive team, absorbing wave after wave of Ghanaian attack. Germany’s almost surely through, Serbia are on their last thread already because of their loss to their main competition for second place. Ghana need some finishing to go with their possession.
(Groups E-H when they’ve finished playing; Group G below)If you follow soccer, like even a little, you know the English invented the game in the mid 19th century as a way for their rich kids to while away their idle hours at boarding school. It was a thumping, kicking, clashing, colliding type of game. Shin-whacking was not only legal in the early years, but encouraged. Even as the contact was reduced, the English relied on physical play to dominate the early years of international competition.
And if you follow soccer, like even a little, you know the Brazilians play nothing like that. While the English might have invented Association Football*, the Brazilians invented the beautiful game. With players like Pele, Socrates, Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Roberto Carlos, Garrincha, Zico, Rivelino, Romario, Bebeto … it’s a murderer’s row of stylish, pacy, intricate football. They are the team of wall-passes, stepovers and freekicks that dip and dive. They strive not just to win, but to win beautifully. As basketball has been compared to jazz (erroneous and probably racist), so Brazilian soccer has been compared to their national dance, the samba. They do not hoof forward, out-jump and smash past. They dance you to death, using misdirection and speed rather than power and size, to pick you apart.
Well, they did. This Brazil team is not exactly English, but it’s sure not the Brazil you’ll remember from 1994, 1998, 2002 or even 2006. This is a team driven to win, just like their previous incarnations, but beauty is ancillary. Kaka, their attacking midfielder, is capable of the miraculous, but prefers the direct. The forwards are not magicians, but workhorses. They have one of the few keepers who can actually lay claim to being the best in the tournament (see: Howard, Tim; Buffon, Gigi). Their defense is stalwart. In fact, as if to prove the new Brazilian guard, national manager Dunga (himself a former defensive midfielder) left old horse Ronaldinho and new show pony Pato back home, both of them being the epitome of the trickin’, stylin’, seemingly erstwhile joga bonita. Even the biggest managerial decision comes down to the fullbacks: the aggressive, attack-minded, young and innovative Dani Alves or the veteran and mutil-modal Maicon. Even though it’s a decision most managers would love to have, as they’re among the best in the world at their position, given that this is Brazil we’re talking about, shouldn’t it be two wingers or forwards we’re squabbling over.
We’re at 1000 words, so let’s get to the other three teams, two of which are capable of progressing deep into the Cup, and the other can sink the Cheonan:
Bad Korea: No one knows. Like everything outside of Pyongyang itself, the North Korean team is shrouded in darkness. Suffice to say that they are not very good unless Dear Leader himself is suiting up, such is his mastery in all endeavors (I read a lot of DPRK news). They’ll lose every match and we can only hope they’ll be hysterical in doing so.
Portugal: Oh Cristiano Ronaldo. Oh, your talent is world class and other wordly. Sadly, so is your douchebaggery. The man can hit a dead ball that makes even Beckham blush and has moves for days. But his preening and arrogance make it almost impossible to enjoy unless you get lost in the moment. Two weeks ago, this was a team of two stars and a bunch of other guys. Then, Nani went down and it’s now Ronaldo, an aging Deco and a bunch of other guys who play kind of well together but barely made it through qualifying and seem pretty pedestrian.
Cote d’Ivoire: Les Elephants could potentially have the most on-form player in the tournament, playing the most dangerous position for this tournament (what with the ball! More later! Like tomorrow!), but he might not be allowed to take the field on account of the … wait for it … cast on his motherfucking arm! He broke it just over a week ago but the leading scorer in the world’s toughest league, Didier Drogba, thinks he can play. I wouldn’t put it past him. Of course, I wouldn’t put it past him to score 17 goals in the group stage or have it seem like we wasn’t playing at all, even if he played all 270 minutes. With a supporting cast including Kolo and Yaya Toure (they’re related!), Emmanuel Eboue, Didier Zokora, Salomon Kalou, Gervinho and Aruna Dindane, he might not have to appear until the knockouts anyway.
Brazil, even in their new semi-defensively-inclined squad, are the class of this real Group of Death. Since there are three teams that might make it out, I’m going to do the Fuck, Marry, Kill thing, excising Bad Korea, because, like, no. Bad, bad Korea.
Fuck: Cote d’Ivoire, because they’re going to look amazing at some point and your friends are going to have a hard time talking you out of it. But the next time you see them, they’ll look like shit and you’ll feel bad about it. Until they hot it up again and your friends remember that this particular elephant was yours for one glorious night. Jealous.
Marry: Brazil, because, seriously, Brazil is the non-profit lawyer who can cook, knows four languages, has a house in the hills and volunteers 20 hours a week for the nearest 826. Also, for mom, Brazil is a regular churchgoer and never misses birthdays. Most successful team in World Cup history with no signs of slowing down. Also, did we mention the samba thing? Because that can’t hurt in bed and probably doesn’t get old like Cd’I’s thumping it down the channel might.
Kill: Portugal, because those preening bastards living high off of never actually accomplishing too much remind you of every ex you’ve ever had. They refer back to that time they almost had something, point out how tough they have it, and expect pity whenever they fail — which, remember, is every time. This is a stage 5 clinger with no prospects who’s only going to hold down your starship baby, and you deserve more.
And I officially wish I’d just done FMK for this whole tournament. Anyway, Brazil to win, CdI to place, Portugal to show, because that’s what they do best. North Korea will bring sparklers and call them ICBMs, but it will be cute.
Tomorrow: Group H: Spain! And some other countries that will try, like when your cat gets a moth!
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