Monday, 9 June 2014

It still makes my blood boil.....

When I was 15 my English teacher was the best I'd ever had in teaching, me at least, how to write sentences that conveyed the meaning a writer wanted to get across, the way to use the adjectives to describe the scene that was to be set. Those sentences, when put together the right way, made the story flow and had the reader captivated. Just like I am trying to do now.

What words could I use to really describe World Cup 2002? It was a different one. The smaller teams shone, even if in the end it was two of the normal heavyweights, Germany and Brazil, in the final. Turkey and Senegal were a wonderful revelation, Turkey scoring a golden goal winner in their quarter final. Who would have though that the country that I remembered being beaten 8-0 by England, twice, in the eighties, would become World Cup semi-finalists.

The World Cup of weird surprises all started with, unsurprisingly, the opening game. World and European Champions, France, were up against Senegal, most of whose squad played in the French league. With France you never quite know what's going to happen. Them having the two titles somehow didn't seem to make them as assured winners as Spain were when they were in that position. But France's dismal decline started with a huge amount of bad luck. Twice they hit the post with the Senegalese goalkeeper a spectator. Senegal's goalscorer tried very hard  to miss by hitting his tap-in right at the French goalkeeper, but got lucky on the rebound. If Henry and Trezeguet's shots had caught a whiff of wind that changed the flight of the ball by a few centimetres it may have been a very different World Cup. I know, nobody wins on if only's and near misses. Senegal put the ball in the net once, France didn't. Cue the French meltdown. Au revoir. See you next time.

Then the USA beat Portugal, Germany scored eight against Saudi Arabia and Argentina lost to England and were eventually eliminated in the first round.

I make a living, partly, by teaching people of various athletic abilities how to play better tennis. I love it, not just for the obvious not being stuck in an office, but also because there is real satisfaction in seeing someone achieve improvement, no matter how small it is. And I get to meet some very interesting people, whose life stories I get to know about while picking balls up or standing at the net for a break.  One of these interesting characters had a weekly lesson with me scheduled to start 30 minutes into England's match against Argentina. This was the one I wanted to watch, but there was no excuse I could think of to cancel this lesson. "I have to watch the World Cup" would not fly with this lady. She would probably have asked me what the World Cup was. It is also safe to say that I was a little intimidated by her. I was the young tennis coach, wanting to impress the important people who, so I thought, made the big decisions. The lady in question worked in the film industry, so not sure what decisions she made could have had any impact on me. But she did pay the big bucks to play tennis at the club. And I had to provide the service to this lady who was very low on the athletic ability scale.  She was also very low on the listening to any instruction from the tennis instructor scale. Which kind of went against the whole idea of taking a tennis lesson. After about 10 minutes of the first lesson, it degenerated into me hitting balls and her swinging her racquet at them in no consistent fashion, with no attempt at implementing what I was suggesting. She didn't even have any interesting stories. She spoke a lot, about herself, and I smiled politely. But even her self-centredness had no entertainment value. She also suggested what we should do next, but no matter what it was it soon became the same thing we had been doing earlier.

I got to work early that day to watch the first 30 minutes before my lesson from tennis hell. I slumped off to the court. Movie lady did have an interesting anecdote that day which, oddly, I remember. As we stopped for a water break she told me that the body can only absorb 10oz (or was it 5 or 20) of water at a time.  Maybe I don't really remember. But something else sticks out in my head. After what seemed like an eternity (these are the lessons when you don't look at your watch), one of the club maintenance staff walked behind the court and whispered to me "Beckham, penalty, 1-0." Beautiful words. At the end of the hour I decided against engaging in our usual in depth conversation about the film industry and raced off to the TV. The last 10 minutes were watched with painful glee. I had survived another week and England had some revenge for 1986.

My other vaguely related story of interest is to do with Vincenzo Nardiello . He was an Italian boxer in the Seoul Olympics of 1988. As I watched anything Olympic that was on TV, there I was one day enjoying some boxing. An Italian seemed to be winning very handily against his Korean opponent. But when it came to decision time, the referee raised the hand of the Korean. Nardiello went ballistic. I remember him screaming at the judges words to the effect of "you are all idiots, all of you". It opened my eyes to the first time to the world of injustice on sport and, maybe more pointedly, corruption and fraud.

This came back to me when I watched Spain lose to South Korea in 2002. Spain had 2 perfectly good goals disallowed. Good goals. As in, nobody could explain what had just happened. Twice. But of course the match carried on and Korea won in a shoot out. Not since Nardiello have I seen athletes of any sport so despondent as those Spanish players at the end. Some vented their anger at the ref, but most of them were just too far gone in their disbelief to do anything. That's sport I guess, or so we are told. You have to play by the referee's decisions. But I felt the pain of those Spanish players, denied a World Cup semi final spot because of a referee and his linesman. No matter how much it has tried to be justified, that's what it was.

There had been rumblings of something amiss in Korea's wins against Portugal and Italy. The Italians were furious and for once I felt very sorry for them. Nothing will ever come out, the matches are decided on the pitch. Very simply, it could have been the referees succumbing to the pressure of the massive home support. That the co-hosts Japan didn't have the same accusations leveled at them must say a lot about the persuasive powers of the Korean supporters.

Japan/Korea 2002 was a happy time for Ronaldo. The desolate, disconsolate  player at the end of France '98 was replaced by a man determined to show the world he was back. I am a sucker for these comeback stories. I wanted nothing more than for Ronaldo to score, to do it spectacularly and when it mattered. In the semi final Turkey had understandably set up a defensive stall. It was all going well until Ronaldo somehow toe poked the ball around the Turkish goalkeeper from the corner of the penalty area. I jumped out of my chair. Sure it was nice to have the surprise team in the semi final but to see a genius at his best was the bigger event.

Nothing, Korean fans, referees, could distract Germany, trust the Germans, from getting past South Korea. So, amazingly, for the first time ever at any stage of the World Cup, Brazil were to play Germany in the final. Crazy time differences and a wedding the night before meant I was up at 7am in a hotel room in Ottawa, with a hangover that was to become so bad that it hadn't set in yet, to watch whether Ronaldo could indeed, to sound like a cliched football reporter, come full circle and find some personal redemption. And I found the energy to rejoice when he did, both times that he scored. His goals not only won the World Cup for Brazil but also made him the leading World Cup scorer of all time.

World Cup '02 really was on the other side of the world. And it took a bit of dedication to follow it. Funnily enough there was a repeat of the 1986 England-Morocco bore fest when England played Nigeria. This time I cursed being up all night the next day at work, and vowing never to do it again. Couldn't England at least make an effort to make it worthwhile?

So that was that. First World Cup in Asia done and dusted. Still to this day I think of what could have been for Spain. But there you go, what to do.We look forward and hope that the results on the pitch truly are determined on the pitch.


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