| World
Cup Corner
That’s
by JASON BOGDANERIS You’ve got to love the Brazilians. Early on their coach made some noise about an emphasis on defence and fundamentals, but old habits die hard. That 5–2 romp against the Costa Ricans looked like the world’s most expensive pick-up game. Watching them on tape, they’re the only team I actually feel guilty about fast-forwarding. Each match is filled with so much genius, it would be like speed-reading a Dostoevsky novel or rushing through the Louvre. Thankfully, they still play football like it’s a game and not some yardstick for national honour. Contrast that with other favourites. There’s the deposed Italians led by manager Giovanni “Chuckles” Trapattoni, whose blood pressure was so high you could probably have boiled gnocchi on his forehead. But at least they have some style. The Germans play with all the joie de vivre of tax lawyers and seem like they should be wearing wing tips instead of cleats. For supporters of most of the favoured nations, losing is a bubble-bursting tragedy and means a return to their mundane lives. For Brazil’s players and fans, you get the sense that, win or lose, the party’s just starting at the final whistle. >>> This topsy-turvy tournament has seen traditional giants fall Goliath-style and the Davids of the soccer universe have their day. What gives? After conducting my own very unscientific examination, two defining trends emerge. Mohawks and Marxism. That’s right. Teams that have at least one member sporting some version of that godawful ’do have consistently bested their more traditionally coifed opponents, while ex-Commies from Poland to Slovenia are already home. Coincidence? Maybe. One theory is that newly drawn boundaries haven’t allowed patriotism to take root yet. It could also be due to the disappearance of ministries that used to lavish money on sports like drunken sailors in a brothel. As for the mohawks, my only guess is that players audacious enough to draw such attention to themselves feel compelled to perform. I, for one, hope the next tournament sees a return to exciting football in the East and boring haircuts in the West. >>> The Quarterfinal Matchups are set. This unpredictable World Cup has defied the traditional pundits so I’ve asked my cat Ophelia to match wits with me in hopes one of us gets it right. Germany
V U.S.A. Looking like they stepped out of a Gap ad, the unlikely U.S.
team has parlayed luck and opportunism into a final eight matchup against
one of the least impressive German squads in years. Promises to be as
exciting as coach Bruce Arena’s statuesque goal celebrations.
Germans win—the fans lose. Ophelia’s pick: U.S.A. Spain V
Korea Spain failed to impress against the determined Irish, relying
on an Amateur Night penalty kick display to advance. As for the surprising
Koreans, they’re no fluke, but could their red-clad supporters
be delivering subliminal messages to expulsion-happy referees? Ten-man
Spain squeaks by. Ophelia’s pick: Spain |
