A reflection on what football (soccer) is all about and why it is in its own way, so very important.
Who Won the World Cup 2006?
Italy of course! They won the laurel crown
But now have a crown of roses. Sharp, painful.
Thirty two aspiring teams. From all quarters of the world
Most under performed.
England had no engine. Just a hot tempered boiler
Zidane – just a hot headed moment to cloud an illustrious career
Twirling the midfield like a tornado in season
How glad his opponents salute his retirement yet envy his skill
Old Oliver between the German sticks, deprived all but one game
To lift third prize.
Golden Ghana gave glorious glimpses
Mingled with the best to come off second best but proud.
Neighbouring Togo was a no-no.
No manager, no perks, no concentration until too late.
Brazil, the People’s favourite. So delightful in midfield and on the zipping wing but where the firepower? Required for goals, for progress. Not this year did the gold and blue sparkle.
Saudi Arabia, Iran, Tunisia, Croatia, Czech republic returned home early. So did Serbia Montenegro but we all noticed them. They played their part in the theatre of dreams.
USA almost but not quite. Enthusiasm and a great goal but not enough.
Yet they drew with Italy. Is that not something?
Spain should have enjoyed the high temperatures but were humbled by their neighbours France who at last showed glimpses of their past greatness.
Sweden the nemesis of England but ate crumbs at the Teutonic table.
Mexico gave too much respect to the advancing Argentine, oiled to perfection, but slipping the penalty box opportunities to the host.
Portugal showed England how penalties are taken. Left England, but not Scotland, shaken!
So to the final. A game of two halves. As always. A game of brilliance like the curate’s egg, so good, in parts. Zinadine Zidane’s cheeky penalty hit the cross bar and dropped, three inches over the goal line. Try that in a domestic game and be rightly roasted for nearly missing. But at the feet of the King, it was meant. Head strong Italy redirect a cross into a bulging net. Bartez clutches as if swiping a mosquito, too late. A draw. Extra time and Zidane uses his head. The irony. The man who uses his feet to amaze and entertain, now uses his head, bent like a marauding angry bull and pierces the matador who falls crumpled to the ground. Seen by millions upon millions on the world stage but not by the referee. Nor the two linesmen now named assistant referees. Could they ever send Zidane off in his very last game? The fourth or was it the fifth official. He decided with modern telepathic communication to instruct the referee to bring the red card out. What for? asks Zidane. He has not done anything wrong in the last four minutes. Bodies collapse from exhaustion, from the heat of a Berlin night, from the cameras and television probes. The whistle sounds. Penalty kicks will decide their fates.
So it has come to this. Five shots at an empty goal unchallenged, except for a mavric vision of two arms, two legs and a body, all connected, to avoid. The odds are stacked heavily in favour of France. The cool French elegance must outgun the hot headed Italian lovers. History comes to mind. Italians crumble under pressure. It’s a fact on three consecutive occasions in the past.
This time it’s different. Five hit the French net. France hits the deck. Italy are outright winners.
The verdict.
Did football win? No. A poor display over all with many underachieving teams. Both Italy and France stumbled in the early rounds. No team dominated the festival. But Italy won. Let’s give her, her due reward but how short lived it will be as four top Italian teams are relegated in the purge of match-fixing scandals. Thus it ever was.
So who really won the 2006 World Cup?
For playing beyond their capacity in an unusual flowing style, Germany gained my respect. Germany hosted a marvellous month of football, giving supporters a warm welcome, with wide screens. Defying the ticket touts’ false hospitality. In settings worthy of each nation’s efforts to proceed on the world stage of football, the facilities were first class. The final, in the Berlin stadium which had seen Jesse Owens make Hitler groan, dispelled its notorious past to provide a spectacular final game.
So now South Africa 2010.
Make it half as efficient and it will be a success. Bring forward new talent as yet unknown to grace the fields. But above all, in this mad game with all its faults, bring together the nations of this world to play their best and win hearts and minds. That is the true winner of world sport.
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Lena
Love Tinka