Five things I learned this Weak, plus another three:
the eight biggest 'Whafuck?' moments of the first eight games
1. If it's goals you're after, it's Deutschland uber alles
Particularly if you want contenders for goal of the tournament, even if it's only Day One. While all around are grinding out one-nilskis, the Germans are hammering in goals from everywhere (and shipping plenty at the back themselves). Anyone would think their last couple of coaches were former international strikers with an allergy to defence who in their heyday made Roberto Carlos look like a world-class defensive fullback. Bob Charlie's German counterpart, Bayern Munich left-back Phillip Lahm, hit an absolute beauty from the very edge of the area, opening the game and the World Cup right up with what looked to be the goal of the tournament... for about an hour, before midfielder Torsten 'These Are A Few Of My Favourite' Frings trumped him with an awesome looping strike from distance. Germans scoring goals? Whatever next - Italians conceding them?
2. Political correctness isn't dead, but it appears to be 'major life-sign challenged'
At least it is in the international feed com-box. Cue Gary Bloom, late in the Sveeden versus T&T game: 'Trinidad and Tobago's chances in this World Cup have been written off more times than the Mexican national debt.' Cheers for that incisive contribution to world socioeconomic debate, Gary. Next week, Martin Tyler gives his position on the AWB wheat subsidies scandal in the context of the larger debate over the UN oil-for-food scheme in Iraq.
3. Group C isn't as fucking awful to watch as anyone could have reasonably expected
Mexico-Iran was actually a good game. A really good game, actually - end-to-end, lots of chances, and none of this 'get an early goal then sit back all day' crap which England, Portugal and the Dutch have been peddling. As for Portugal-Angola, the mere fact it didn't end up like the last time they played - which ended 5-1 to the Portuguese, with the Angolans having as many players sent off as they had goals scored against them (it's a bit hard to defend against the 'Brazil of Europe' with six players) - indicates it was reasonably competitive. However I can't say it did much to put me off my previous assessment of the 'Guesers (innit, guvnor, etc) as nothing special.
4. Angola aren't completely shit
And neither are Trinidad and Dave (and Dwight and Shaka). Togo are still screwed though. Given that their coach Otto Pfister has bailed out after the Togolese federation reneged on player bonus arrangements, Togo's chances have been given a thorough Pfisting.
5. The Nike kits aren't universally vomitiferous
This is a massive departure from the norm, as anyone will realise who remembers the fucking hideous outfits their sponsored nations have been contractually obliged to wear in the past. There have been some absolutely foul shirts worn at international level over the years - the late 80s/early 90s were a particularly dangerous era for eyeball health; check out the German away shirt from Italia 90 if you think I'm exaggerating. However the lads from Beaverton, Oregon have consistently taken the FIFA cake ref. What Not To Wear since they barged their way into football in the mid-90s, starting with the horrible 'Stars and Stripes' shirt which the Seppos wore at USA 94, or the equally appalling 'pseudo-watermark kind-of-gold-medal-imprint-thing' shirt which they put the Italians in at Euro 96. Fittingly, Italy went home in the first round; knowing the Italians' fashion sense, it was probably out of sheer stylistic embarrassment.
But all that was outdone by the explosive diarrhoea which Nike-outfitted teams were compelled to play in at Korea and/or Japan. Some genius, probably that tool from Queer Eye who wants to tszuj every bloody thing in sight, decided the 'look' for season 2002 was 'day-glo fluorescence bright enough to sear your retinas.' No matter what country you were from, Nike could find a shade with an eye-watering iridescent hue to kit your nation out. Brazil: fluoro fuckin' yellow. Nigeria: fluoro fuckin' green. Holland: fluoro fuckin' orange. Even the South Koreans somehow ended up in fluoro fuckin' pink. Absolutely vom. Might have been useful had they been playing, for instance, at Jade Stadium in Christchurch on Super 14 final night, but on any other night...
For Christ's sake, whose idea was this? Stevie Wonder?
Anyway the Big Tick bosses have clearly confiscated their kit design team's highlighter pens and for once all the teams who turn out in Nike uniforms actually look like footballers instead of council workers, traffic cones or those guys at airports with the flashing ping-pong bats who guide the planes into their parking spots. And they've resisted imposing a one-look-fits-all over their charges - each nation gets something a little different from the others.
Of course, every Nike team looks OK apart the Dutch - there's only so much anyone can do when fluoro fuckin' orange is your national identity. Actually, to be fair, the Dutch don't look too bad, even if their numbers look like they were composed from strips of black insulation tape, and Arjen Robben really needs to rethink the orange boots. Quickly.
Arjen, mate, seriously. Put them away. You're scaring the children.
Out of the other kit suppliers, Adidas have done a decent job but the best looking ones are probably the Puma countries. The worst kits out there, by some margin, is the referees' get-up. Fuck they look awful. Particularly in their Nike 2002 throwback fluoro fuckin' yellow...
6. Arjen Robben looks like an arse with those orange boots, but Jeezarse he's going well
Despite his knee-length orange stockings Robben looked about the only bloke who'd turned up with the intent of trying to score a goal or three. He was everywhere, making late runs, knocking in crosses, testing the keeper with decent shots. His movement off the ball was excellent and he didn't fall over clutching his ankle/head/cruets/arse anytime someone brushed past him. So far, he's leading contender for the Weak's Golden Thing award for the Least Useless Player of World Cup Germany 2006.
Serbia and Montenegro's Igor Duljaj attacks Robben, just on principle
7. Every second game is 1-0, and the Italians haven't even played yet
After eight games it ain't looking good for some goal scoring. The gold medal standard in terms of absolutely appalling World Cups was Italia 90, which was plagued with onenilitis - even once the odd cricket score was racked up, the average goals per game was around 2.2; after eight games at Germany 2006, it's 18 goals from 8 games, average 2.25. And excluding the six-goal Germany-Costa Rica game as an outrider, it's 12 from 7, average 1.7. Stats aside, it's absolutely munted my chances in the office sweep.
8. Instant karma IS going to get you
We end with the cautionary tale of Serbia and Mostlyaggro midfielder Ognjen Koroman, who plays his club football for Portsmouth in the Premiership. Midway through the dour 1-0 match against the Dutch he was clipped by Gio van Bronckhorst, and cartwheeled through the inevitable gymnastic routine. On getting up he brandished an imaginary yellow card, demanding his opposite number be cautioned. This, as we know, is the act of a total choad warrior. However, it worked; irrespective of Koroman's histrionics referee Markus Merk carded the Dutchman. Koroman's eyes lit up. From then on, every time he was fouled, brushed past or even approached by a member of the opposition, he threw himself on the deck, then got back up and waved his imaginary yellow at the referee. Until he did it one time too many. Faintest of touches, Koroman goes down theatrically, scrambles to his feet and delivers a blast of Serb invective along with his trusty invisible yellow. To which Merk brandished the considerably more visible version which he'd been given by FIFA. Towards Koroman.
Moral of the story: if you get fouled, don't be a total choad warrior. Invisible yellow cards do not have magic powers. They just make referees pissed off with you.
And the best game of games one through eight of the tournament? That would be Game 9. But we'll get to that a little later in the Weak...
Catch you later - the Doctor is OUT.
1 comment:
Hmmm. Following the events of Day Four, it appears safe to disregard point seven of the above on the following basis:
(a) Italy somehow managed to score two goals in a World Cup game (I prefer to think of it as two one-nils combined) and
(b) there were seven scored in the other two games, meaning you can pretty much forget all that bollocks about Italia 90.
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