Sunday, July 09, 2006

I believe I had that as well.












Germany 3 Portaloo 1, as predicted. Fuck I'm talented. But before we get to the inevitable endless reams of gloating, let's return to two points we made in passing last Weak - those being (1) Cristiano Ronaldo is a 'facking winker' and (2) The English are good at handling defeat because they get so much practice. Just to be difficult, we'll start with the second point.

(2) The English are good at handling defeat because they get so much practice
OK, this is just an excuse to point out that while the Three Lions (no, it's not a pub, even though your local pub team could probably beat them on penalties) were at the World Cup playing woeful football, getting out-shone by the antics of their shopaholic missuses, the infamous WAGs (who were at least vaguely watchable, unlike their incompetent partners) and going out arse-backwards at the first sniff of decent opposition, England's much-vaunted, Ashes-winning cricket side have put in possibly THE least impressive half-summer of what appeared to be cricket against the fearsome might of Sri Lanka (you know, where the Dilmah people live) over the past month and a half - throwing away a massively dominant position in the test series to meekly escape with a one-all draw, then getting walloped five-nil in the subsequent one-day series. We say 'half-summer' as (a) England's summers are only half-arsed at best and (b) having been touched up by the Lankans the Poms still have to front up against the Pakistanis, who beat them easily at home a few months ago, when they still had all their allegedly 'better' players on board. If Australia can't annihilate these arseclowns this summer by Many to Nil, Ricardo Punting can fuck off back to Mowbray (wherever the Christ that is).















The only vaguely watchable thing about England at Germany 2006

(please note: we did say 'only vaguely')



(1) Cristiano Ronaldo is a 'facking winker'
The Poms are correct on this one however. Not only has the annoying little shit befouled every game he's played (including this morning's kiss-yer-sister extravaganza) with a series of tutorials on pouting, diving, whinging, sulking, completely superfluous wankery on and over the ball and successful attempts to have opposition players cautioned or sent off, but he's also demonstrated an astounding capacity for self-delusion. Witness his comments following the semi-final defeat at the hands of ZZ (is) Tops and his band of merry, if horribly-dressed, men:

"I was pleased about being booed. I am a dangerous player. And maybe the French fans were upset to see a dangerous player. I am not worried at all. France were no better than we were. They got a penalty but not much else. We played well and did our best but the referee didn't help us. Everyone who saw the match could see that the referee wasn't fair. He should have shown yellow cards and I should have had a penalty [yes, he's referring to that outrageously ludicrous dive he put on in the second half] but he did not because Portugal is a small country."

The most intelligent analysis of Cristianaldo's comments has come from an unlikely source, ESPNSoccertwat Press Pass comedy Irishman Tommy Smyth With A Why - unlikely because 'intelligent analysis' and 'Tommy Smyth' usually go together about as well as 'North Korea' and 'nuclear non-proliferation treaty'. "You might not agree with Cristiano Ronaldo's comments," Tommy said, "but he got one thing spot on, absolutely right. He said Portugal is a small country. He's absolutely right, it is a small country."





















No prizes for guessing what follows; little Cristi's already got her pout going on

Which brings us to this morning's bronze medal brownout, which began with a half of football so dolefully defensive, casual observers could have been forgiven for thinking something important actually hung on the result of the game, rather than being a kick-around to see which of the two semi-final losers was the bigger loser (if not the Biggest Loser™). Speaking of which the only way proceedings could have been less entertaining would have been to bring in that scary-looking skank and Bob the Dickhead from the Fat Loser TV show. Despite this being a nothing game of no real importance to anyone, Big Phil Scolari just couldn't let go of his defensive obsessions - he went with Pauleta as lone striker and packed his formation with defensive midfielders. It was tight, it was negative, it was cloistered and choked in the centre third, and it was lousy to watch. God help Straya if we DO end up with Big Phil as our coach. One Sky Sports NZ football analyst summated Portugal's one-up-front, eight-men-behind-the-ball approach to the game very aptly: "It's bollocks."

Then, as the teams trotted out for the second half, we saw Big Phil and Medium Sized Jurgen skipping down the tunnel arm-in-arm, all back-slapping and hand-shaking in animated discussion. Everyone in the universe hoped at that point they were saying to each other: Look. It's the third place playoff. Who gives a rat's. Jesus Christ, if even dour old Italy is ballsy enough to throw on four strikers in extra time of a tense World Cup semi, we can push a few bodies up front in the bronze medal game... Big Phil went immediately to his bench, and pulled off (hey!) Costinha, defensive midfielder, in favour of sending on Petit, who is... another defensive midfielder. Not quite what we had in mind, Big Phil.

Ze Chermans finally cracked the motherfucker open when the gloriously named Bastian Schweinsteiger hit a wunderschott which dipped, swerved and pretty much munted keeper Ricardo on its way to the back of the net. That brought proceedings to life, and Petit proved his goalscoring worth shortly after by rifling one into the net to score. For Germany. A two goal lead and all was looking rosy, particularly for this little black duck who had the Krauts winning by two goals. Cue der Schweinhund on 78 minutes, with a Xerox of his first strike - Germany 3-0. Well done, Bastian - now piss off you fucking dickhead, you're costing me money. Thankfully Figo popped up wide on the right with minutes to spare and looped in a cross for Nuno Gomes to nod home and all was right with the world, and more importantly, with The Weak's tipping sheet.


Which means 63 down, one to go - all that can possibly be left is...

World Cup Final 2006: WOGS VS FROGS













Scene from upcoming Discovery Channel special, 'When Photoshop attacks'


Cattle

(likely starters in bold)


BUFFON

ZACCARDO
GROSSO
DE ROSSI
CANNAVARO
BARZAGLI
DEL PIERO
GATTUSO
TONI
TOTTI
GILARDINO
PERUZZI NESTA
AMELIA
IAQUINTA
CAMORANESI
BARONE
INZAGHI
ZAMBROTTA
PERROTTA
PIRLO
ODDO
MATERAZZI


1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23

LANDREAU
BOUMSONG
ABIDAL
VIEIRA
GALLAS
MAKELELE
MALOUDA
DHORASOO
GOVOU
ZIDANE
WILTORD
HENRY
SILVESTRE
SAHA
THURAM
BARTHEZ
GIVET
DIARRA
SAGNOL
TREZEGUET
CHIMBONDA
RIBERY
COUPET
History
The Wogs and the Frogs have met some 32 times since their first encounter in 1910. Italy have had the upper hand for most of this time - between 1921 and 1978 France couldn't get a game off them - but since then France have been dealing out the smackdowns, undefeated against Italy ever since their group stage meeting at Argentina 78. This can be clearly attributed to the Italian Federation's decision not to select genius playmaker 'Il Dottore' Yobbo for the national team despite his eligibility via the grandparent rule, and his antipathy towards the French.

For Italy, the most recent, and most painful, losses were in the Euro 2000 final when, heading for victory and coasting at 1-0 courtesy bogan striker Marco Delvecchio, they conceded a late, late, LATE Sylvain Wiltord equaliser (try four minutes into injury time) then shipped a golden goal to Trezuguet in extra time; in the quarter-final of France 98, when Luigi di Biagio hit the post in the penalty shootout (just like his near-namesake in '94) after the sides had finished goalless; and in the second round at Mexico 86, where Michel Platini's reigning European champions dumped the reigning world champions out on their arse.

Last ten stoushes:
02/07/2000, Rotterdam: France 2-1 Italy a.e.t. (Euro 2000, final)
03/07/1998, Paris: France 0-0 Italy, 4-3 on penalties (France 98, QF)
11/06/1997, Paris: France 2-2 Italy (friendly)
16/02/1994, Naples: France 1-0 Italy (friendly)
17/06/1986, Mexico: France 2-0 Italy (Mexico 86, round of 16)
23/02/1982, Paris: France 2-0 Italy (friendly)
02/06/1978, Mar del Plata: Italy 2-1 France (Argentina 78, first round)
08/02/1978, Naples: Italy 2-2 France (friendly)
19/03/1966, Paris: France 0-0 Italy (friendly)
05/05/1962, Florence: Italy 2-1 France (friendly)

Mumblings
Tonight's ref is an Argentine by the name of Hector Elizondo (or was that the guy from ER?) - you may remember him from such games as the England-Portugal quarterfinal where he sent Rooney off for stomping on old mate Carvalho's love spuds and/or shoving little Cristi (one or the other.) Like most referees, he's a PE teacher by day, which explains to some degree why he's a complete tool. He lists his interests as playing golf, writing poetry and masturbating. Unfortunately this hasn't gone down too well at this tournament - golf isn't that popular in Germany.

Alessandro Nesta, Italy's best defender (yes they have one better than Cannavaro in the shed, he's just in getting repaired at the moment) won't play as he's still crocked, which will mean another call-up for Inter's Marco Materazzi to partner Fab Can in the center of defence. Materazzi came up with the Quote of the Weak in the lead-up to the final, discussing their likely response to the threat of Zidane: "We have people who can mark Zizou all over the pitch and we've also got Gattuso, who's in incredible form. He doesn't need encouragement - if he were any more up for it he'd destroy everything." Anyone who has ever seen Rino Gattuso play would be in total understanding of Materazzi's sentiments.

For France, Zizou is getting all the press, but he'll be helpless and probably hopeless unless Henry can give him a target and Frank Ribery can give him someone to run off him. You can thank (or blame) Ribery for most of Zidane's reclaimed form in the latter stages of this tournament. Not only does Ribery's work with and without the ball complement Zidane's, but he's in possession of the only head on Earth which could make Zidane's comparatively appealing to look at. Not counting Barthez, of course.












I'm sure this guy was in Dawn of the Dead


Outcome
FRANCE
Why they'll win
France have won three out of the last three international finals they've made (Euro 84, France 98, Euro 2000). Italy have lost two from three (won Spain 82; lost USA 94 and Euro 2000).

Why they won't
Their shirts are fuckin' horrid. And I don't care how good he is, Frank Ribery is an ugly, ugly man. That has to count for something dammit.

ITALY
Why they'll win
Clinical finishing, attacking nous, impregnable defence, and the best coach in the tournament. Furthermore they always win the World Cup when there's a domestic match-fixing stink in the offing.

Why they won't
Oh they will, don't you worry about that. Italy one-nil.


Il Dottore is OUT.

No comments: