It’s Over

They think it’s all over and they are right. The long suffering partners of soccer aficionados will cheer with relief that they can get their home life back to normal without the couch potato sprawled in front of the TV almost every evening, banning kids from the living room, grunting, drinking beer and screaming profanities at the box. It is final night so I am on the brandy – Hennessy.

The 2010 world Cup tournament in South Africa fell far short of being the fine spectacle many predicted. The fear of losing stifled the risk-taking so necessary for free-flowing and creative soccer. The banality of the general performances sort of makes the argument for having inflicted it on the family to begin with rather suspect. They wonder why they should have their lives disrupted for something so useless, having to listen to more ranting than cheering. Yet, as the scorpion said to the frog ‘it’s in my nature’. It is our drug of choice to which we are addicted. There was a lot of interest down here today in the Gaelic match between Louth and Meath. Flags and bunting adorned but it’s just not for me. Soccer is my sporting tipple. Can’t really account for taste, the feel good factor is its own justification.

The entire FIFA tournament was a feast of mediocrity and a famine of talent. Exciting as cricket, it didn’t change much with the exit of the minnows and the underdogs like North Korea, New Zealand and England. Although new first time world champions have been crowned tonight’s final was as dull as it was dirty. The Spanish deserved to win if for no other reason than the dirty Dutch tried to kick rather than play their way to victory. Five yellow cards shared between the two sides within half an hour a sending off looked certain. By 56 minutes the Dutch had managed five yellows all on their own to which my wife responded ‘what a horrible way for the tournament to end. The foulest game is what it should be called.’ By the time 90 minutes had expired 9 yellows had been handed out. In the second period of extra time, the inevitable happened. The Dutch were lucky to be reduced only to ten men.

How Zidane was sent off in the previous final in Germany in 2006 for a head butt to the chest of an Italian player and De Jong of Holland escaped with a yellow for a first half flying boot to the chest of Xabi Alonso beggars belief. Had the right decision been taken then the match might never have reached extra time.

Alan Hanson, the former Liverpool captain and current TV pundit, described it as total thuggery rather than total football for which Holland under the tutelage of Johann Cryuff were once famed. At half time the Dutch should only have had nine men on the pitch. The English referee marshalled the game as well as the England team played throughout the tournament. At times Holland reminded me of Argentina in 1966 or Uruguay in1986.

Anti-climatic World Cup finals have become the norm. Spain to their credit ensured this final didn’t end in a 0-0 draw to be decided on penalties. No way to end the biggest sporting event on the planet. Moreover, it seems worthy that Diego Forlan of Uruguay should be awarded player of the tournament. That his skills failed to grace the final is something to be rued. Van Bommel there instead - a disgrace. Pauper before the prince. Give us Barabbas screamed the mob and their wish was granted.

Spain, worthy winners on the night over the thugs of Holland, are crowned kings of a kingdom lacking in princes of flair.

Posted in: Soccer,World Cup