The end of the World Cup is like quitting smoking cold turkey, only you can’t cheat. No matter how hard you try, no matter how many old recordings you have of classic games, the sensation, the media overload, the frenzied tidal wave of live games cannot be reproduced. As the tournament progresses, the teams get eliminated, and the games get even tighter, you find yourself searching for an equivalent fix. But there’s no hidden pack in your car’s glove compartment. There’s no friend who you can bum a smoke off of. There’s just an old archive of youtube clips, a tome covered in dust wit a few words written about something that people back in the day thought was exciting.

Take a deep breath. And try to hide your disappointment. Continue reading “Spain v. Netherlands – Red Herring Revisionary” »

I’ve tried for four years to explain to new American soccer fans what it means to lose to Germany. All metaphors escape me expect for horror films. On the one hand, the German experience is a profound blow psychologically. Even when the scoreline reads 4-1 or 4-0, the Germans always give the other team enough of the ball to make them feel the result was within in reach. If only Lampard’s goal was ruled a goal, if only Dimaria had kept his shot low, if only Romero had commanded his box.

From the audience perspective, the German counterattacks play out like a creepy killer carefully entering and walking through the house. As the masked villain slowly tiptoes down the hallway towards the bedroom, we flash to scenes of the impervious back line, taking a shower. Will Heinze step in time to rule Podoslki offsides? Oh no...he’s decided to use conditioner and can’t hear the killer turning the door handle to the bedroom! Continue reading “Argentina vs. Germany – Painless 'til the End” »

So, we’ve had this debate before. Still, the result, Netherlands 2-1 over Brazil, will fuel the fire of the torch wielding “joga bonito acolytes,” screaming about the exclusion of Ronaldinho and Pato and hundreds of other Brazilians that can pull off an elastico with ease. After all, Dunga’s reliance on results and the discourse of efficiency to justify his team selection collapses into one currency by which to measure success – wins. Not goals. Not style. Wins. And today, Brazil lost.

However, this was not a case of the swashbuckling jogabonito Dutch vs. the boring Brazilians. The Holland on display fielded three central midfielders, Schneijder, Von Bommel, and De Jongo, two of which are more janitorial than artistic. Up front, Van Persie found himself isolated as Kuyt’s chronic lack of pace and Robben’s left leaning proclivities starved him of quality service. Did Gio overlap Robben even one time during the course of the game? Cruyff’s total football is dead. Long live the Cruyff. Continue reading “Brazil vs. Holland – Beauty, Bottom Line, Redux” »