It bugs me. I'm sorry, but it does. It took 0.03 seconds from the final whistle at Soccer City on Sunday night for Alan Shearer to jump on football's laziest, most cliche-driven bandwagon when he said, 'it was a victory for football'.
Before you castigate me for getting a little off-topic, I know we said we'd talk about British sport. And the closest that Spain gets to being British is when half the population of our country invades it for the summer, grazing on semi-cooked hamburgers, drinking too much, tanning till we go lobster-pink and pissing all over somebody else's beach. But a World Cup only comes but once every four years, and for an England fan it only lasts a few short on-field hours (I have every sympathy for Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland fans, who must surely watch England and come to the inescapable conclusion that they could hardly do worse.)
Spain. In Iker Casillas, they have the best goalkeeper in the world. Barcelona-bound David Villa is a lethal goalscorer proven at the top level. In Xavi and Andres Iniesta, they have two ball-playing midfielders with a knack for scoring vital goals. In Pique and Puyol, they have defenders who are solid, unspectacular and good in the air, but lacking in speed and with a tendency towards occasional silly mistakes. Sound like any team you know?
Spain. European and now world champions, wizards who turn pomp and flair into searing performances and bagfuls of goals, wowing fans everywhere with their skill and temerity.
Er, no.
World Cup finals are by precedent, unholy travesties of the game for which they are supposed to represent a sacred pinnacle. Victory over a Dutch side who had apparently turned up for a karate tournament rather than a football match was certainly a victory for skill over conduct little short of thuggery, but it was hardly a spectacle worthy of the beautiful game. The winner, a spitting half-volley bludgeoned home despite a suspicion of offside from the first ball forward, was an apt winner in a thoroughly torrid affair.
Spain keep possession. That much is true. They play with grace and patience, and they grind out results, with no less than 50 of their last 55 results being wins. For this, perhaps they are worthy of the title of best of a lacklustre bunch. But this Spain team are not entertainers.
As France, England and Italy self-destructed around them, Spain threatened to do likewise by fudging through the group stage. After defeat by a spirited Swiss side, they would surely not even have qualified for the second round had they faced another group opponent with slightly more verve than either Honduras or Chile, the former of which surely dispel the notion that there are no easy international matches.
Then to the second round, where they edged a second-rate Portugese side by a goal, and Paraguay, where they nearly came undone after their opponents missed a penalty. Having meandered this far, they encountered free-scoring Germany in a tie that could have defined everything that was special about the tournament. The result? A tetchy, scrappy affair decided by a header from a corner. 1 - 0 again.
This post is not an effort to deny Spain their perch at the top of world football. However, I am suggesting that the style of their play and the reason for their success owes more to Catennacio than Catalonia. There are precious few truly top-class sides out there at the moment and the seeming worldwide trend for the 4-5-1 formation (with obligatory world-class playmaker at the apex of the 5) is threatening to turn world football into a game of counter-attack without attackers. But for all those who would instantly salute Spain's triumph as a victory for football, I suspect that the true fan would still rather watch Germany, Argentina or Uruguay.
Showing posts with label England. Show all posts
Showing posts with label England. Show all posts
Tuesday, 13 July 2010
Saturday, 10 July 2010
End of an Era
While my colleague remains on hiatus in the balmy summer sunshine, collecting his thoughts while preparing a ten-point plan to save British football, I am reminded of that famous Times obituary from 1882, which stated that English cricket was dead, that the body would be cremated and the Ashes taken to Australia.
Ironic then that English cricket had never seemed so alive as in the last few weeks, with resounding test victories over Bangladesh, victory over Scotland and the emphatic capture of the Natwest series against Australia with two games still to play. And yet, for all that, clouds may just be gathering as the domestic season gathers pace.
Today has seen the end of England's unbeaten record against Bangladesh, the Tigers scraping home with a five run win in the second one-day international at Bristol. It has seen the end of Ian Bell's chances of playing in the forthcoming Pakistan tests, as he limped from the field with a broken foot after earlier theatrics in the field. These are things that add to the uncertainty surrounding England after they unaccountably took their foot off the pedal in that Australia series.
Credit must undoubtedly be given to Bangladesh for their victory, and questions will be asked about the England bowling attack, not least the selection of the wayward James Anderson and the toothless medium pace of Luke Wright. Stuart Broad too does most of his talking without the ball these days, a shame given his early promise. The England coaching staff will still have plenty to think about when selecting a touring party for the Ashes series, which begins in November.
From looking forward to looking back, this summer will likely see the final pages in an epic test career spanning nearly 20 years as mercurial off-spinner, Muttiah Muralitharan, tests his wrist in the competitive five-day game for what will surely be the final time.
It says something for the man (who prefers to spell his name Muralidaran) that while he is test cricket's highest ever wicket-taker and the only man of Tamil origin to represent Sri Lanka in the test arena, he is known mostly in England for his genial good nature and ever-present smile.
Awarded the Wisden Cricketers Almanac 2002 accolade of 'Greatest Test Bowler Ever', only Shane Warne can come close to Murali in terms of the quality of his spin action and the fearsome reputation that has followed him in the test arena. He averages six wickets a test and has taken a total of 792 test victims, accounting for most of the world's top batsmen at one time or another. In addition to his bowling, he has proven to be a competent county captain and a lower-order batsman of carefree abandon. Furthermore, apart from the occasional supporting action from countryman Chaminda Vaas, he has spent much of his career carrying his test side virutally single-handedly. On occasion, he has bowled half of his side's available innings in a day.
Mention will invariably be given to the concerns over his action, which have been tested no less than five times by the ICC over the course of his career. However, for him to be remembered in such a way does not do justice to a man whose infectious warmth and sublime talent stand out in whatever company he finds himself.
Farewell then to the smiling assassin, and with Warne now retired too we wait for the world to throw up another world-class spinner to fox batsmen and entertain the rest of us. Before Xmas we have the spectacle of another Ashes series to come, and while the names may not be so well known as they have been in years past, we will be hoping for England to resurrect the ghosts laid to rest so comprehensively in 1882.
-J
Ironic then that English cricket had never seemed so alive as in the last few weeks, with resounding test victories over Bangladesh, victory over Scotland and the emphatic capture of the Natwest series against Australia with two games still to play. And yet, for all that, clouds may just be gathering as the domestic season gathers pace.
Today has seen the end of England's unbeaten record against Bangladesh, the Tigers scraping home with a five run win in the second one-day international at Bristol. It has seen the end of Ian Bell's chances of playing in the forthcoming Pakistan tests, as he limped from the field with a broken foot after earlier theatrics in the field. These are things that add to the uncertainty surrounding England after they unaccountably took their foot off the pedal in that Australia series.
Credit must undoubtedly be given to Bangladesh for their victory, and questions will be asked about the England bowling attack, not least the selection of the wayward James Anderson and the toothless medium pace of Luke Wright. Stuart Broad too does most of his talking without the ball these days, a shame given his early promise. The England coaching staff will still have plenty to think about when selecting a touring party for the Ashes series, which begins in November.
From looking forward to looking back, this summer will likely see the final pages in an epic test career spanning nearly 20 years as mercurial off-spinner, Muttiah Muralitharan, tests his wrist in the competitive five-day game for what will surely be the final time.
It says something for the man (who prefers to spell his name Muralidaran) that while he is test cricket's highest ever wicket-taker and the only man of Tamil origin to represent Sri Lanka in the test arena, he is known mostly in England for his genial good nature and ever-present smile.
Awarded the Wisden Cricketers Almanac 2002 accolade of 'Greatest Test Bowler Ever', only Shane Warne can come close to Murali in terms of the quality of his spin action and the fearsome reputation that has followed him in the test arena. He averages six wickets a test and has taken a total of 792 test victims, accounting for most of the world's top batsmen at one time or another. In addition to his bowling, he has proven to be a competent county captain and a lower-order batsman of carefree abandon. Furthermore, apart from the occasional supporting action from countryman Chaminda Vaas, he has spent much of his career carrying his test side virutally single-handedly. On occasion, he has bowled half of his side's available innings in a day.
Mention will invariably be given to the concerns over his action, which have been tested no less than five times by the ICC over the course of his career. However, for him to be remembered in such a way does not do justice to a man whose infectious warmth and sublime talent stand out in whatever company he finds himself.
Farewell then to the smiling assassin, and with Warne now retired too we wait for the world to throw up another world-class spinner to fox batsmen and entertain the rest of us. Before Xmas we have the spectacle of another Ashes series to come, and while the names may not be so well known as they have been in years past, we will be hoping for England to resurrect the ghosts laid to rest so comprehensively in 1882.
-J
Tuesday, 6 July 2010
A word from Jimbo
So it wasn't what I planned when I started blogging. Sport is an addendum to life, not a way of it. Even so, I love to talk, and I love to talk sport most of all, which is why I'm here.
I am Jimbo, armchair manager, dreamer, analyser and exuberant fanatic of all things sport. Except rugby. I don't understand scrums and as far as I can see, it's basically a punch-up with a ball.
My co-conspirator will undoubtedly make himself known to you at some point, and he has plenty of ideas of his own. But I'm here to talk about passion, about drive, about guts and a fairly distinct lack of glory. I follow football, cricket and a host of other events, including poker, though whether it's technically a sport or not is open to debate, given that I haven't seen it at the Olympics yet and those guys would give medals for tiddlywinks if there was advertising potential in it.
My top five moments in sport, in ascending order:
5) Five is an appropriate place for this moment, as that is the number of goals that England scored on that wonderful 2001 night in Munich. I watched the match in Cavan, where a jubilant Eire side had already defeated the mighty Holland 1 - 0 earlier in the day despite having been reduced to ten men partway through the game. If the locals were surprised by their own result, they were staggered by the scoreline in our game and celebrations of that one went on well into the night.
4) Goran Ivanišević winning the Wimbledon Men's Singles title as a wildcard in 2001, still the only player to do so. Ivanišević had already fought back from a seemingly impossible position against our own 'Tiger' Tim Henman in the semis, and showed amazing fortitude in the final after being broken by Pat Rafter in the fourth set. The giant Croatian eventually went on to win the deciding set 9 -7. It was an especially hard-earned victory, given that he had already lost in the final on three previous occasions.
3) Ricky 'The Hitman' Hatton stepping up a class too far against the flying Filipino, Manny Pacquiao in 2009. Pacquiao is a true phenomenon, a fighter with seven different world titles in seven different weight categories, and Hatton never looked likely to cause what would have been a massive upset despite his unbeaten record and undoubted prowess. Before the match, Pacquiao entertained the media by holding a workout in which he worked a light-ball so swiftly, his hands seemed a blur. Hatton was utterly outclassed and knocked out in the second round.
2) That Ashes victory, 2005, heralding the power-shift in world cricket from Australia to England. With just two runs separating the sides, Steve Harmison jagged a short ball into the Edgbaston turf, Australian tail-ender Michael Kasprowicz fended it away with a hand not in contact with the bat and was subsequently given out caught behind on the leg side. The result brought England back to life in a series they would otherwise surely have lost decisively.
1) The 1990 World Cup final - a mere strip of a lad hid behind his family's sofa well into the night and watched Gazza cry, Lineker cement himself as England's greatest ever hero, and Stuart 'Psycho' Pearce...miss. Miss the decisive penalty that meant West Germany, easily the most cynical and torrid side to ever be crowned world champions, triumphed over our brave lads once again.
- J
I am Jimbo, armchair manager, dreamer, analyser and exuberant fanatic of all things sport. Except rugby. I don't understand scrums and as far as I can see, it's basically a punch-up with a ball.
My co-conspirator will undoubtedly make himself known to you at some point, and he has plenty of ideas of his own. But I'm here to talk about passion, about drive, about guts and a fairly distinct lack of glory. I follow football, cricket and a host of other events, including poker, though whether it's technically a sport or not is open to debate, given that I haven't seen it at the Olympics yet and those guys would give medals for tiddlywinks if there was advertising potential in it.
My top five moments in sport, in ascending order:
5) Five is an appropriate place for this moment, as that is the number of goals that England scored on that wonderful 2001 night in Munich. I watched the match in Cavan, where a jubilant Eire side had already defeated the mighty Holland 1 - 0 earlier in the day despite having been reduced to ten men partway through the game. If the locals were surprised by their own result, they were staggered by the scoreline in our game and celebrations of that one went on well into the night.
4) Goran Ivanišević winning the Wimbledon Men's Singles title as a wildcard in 2001, still the only player to do so. Ivanišević had already fought back from a seemingly impossible position against our own 'Tiger' Tim Henman in the semis, and showed amazing fortitude in the final after being broken by Pat Rafter in the fourth set. The giant Croatian eventually went on to win the deciding set 9 -7. It was an especially hard-earned victory, given that he had already lost in the final on three previous occasions.
3) Ricky 'The Hitman' Hatton stepping up a class too far against the flying Filipino, Manny Pacquiao in 2009. Pacquiao is a true phenomenon, a fighter with seven different world titles in seven different weight categories, and Hatton never looked likely to cause what would have been a massive upset despite his unbeaten record and undoubted prowess. Before the match, Pacquiao entertained the media by holding a workout in which he worked a light-ball so swiftly, his hands seemed a blur. Hatton was utterly outclassed and knocked out in the second round.
2) That Ashes victory, 2005, heralding the power-shift in world cricket from Australia to England. With just two runs separating the sides, Steve Harmison jagged a short ball into the Edgbaston turf, Australian tail-ender Michael Kasprowicz fended it away with a hand not in contact with the bat and was subsequently given out caught behind on the leg side. The result brought England back to life in a series they would otherwise surely have lost decisively.
1) The 1990 World Cup final - a mere strip of a lad hid behind his family's sofa well into the night and watched Gazza cry, Lineker cement himself as England's greatest ever hero, and Stuart 'Psycho' Pearce...miss. Miss the decisive penalty that meant West Germany, easily the most cynical and torrid side to ever be crowned world champions, triumphed over our brave lads once again.
- J
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