Old Habits Die Hard

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Hmm, Lord Mayor’s show and all that. The last quarter-final of Euro 2008 put in a rather fierce challenge for the dubious accolade of being the tournament’s low point, and whilst the significance of the match probably kept its status as a spectacle slightly above that of France v Romania, that is the only hint of polish anyone could possibly offer this turd.

Spain and Italy played out an insomnia-curing 120 minutes that looked destined for penalties from a very early stage. As is the usual form when two sides of such magnitude play out a direfest, the commentators will try and convince us that the game is ‘tactical’, ‘technical’, or that the teams are ‘cancelling each other out’. Strangely, ‘shite’ never seems to be a term they’re keen to apply no matter how bad things get, and this was very, very bad. That, by the way, is all it was. The poor quality of the match was not down in any way to the two teams tactics, it was down to the fact that they were rubbish. They couldn’t pass it, they couldn’t cross it, they barely moved, and they couldn’t shoot.

The latter criticism applies in particular to the Spaniards, whose entire game plan appeared to consist of making their way at a snails pace to an area 25 yards from the Italian goal, before unleashing the most harmless of efforts on goal that generally failed by numerous yards to find the target. All this would have seemed speculative under normal circumstances, but considering the world’s finest goalkeeper was between the sticks, it just appeared lazy and careless. The Italians however, weren’t even this good, as any or all of the above would have been an improvement on the virtual zero they offered in threat to Iker Casillas at the other end.

The first half was probably honours even for both incompetence and negativity, both sides barely breaking into a jog, playing safety-first possession football which offered no threat whatsoever of penetrating either defence. Moves came to an end with either a tame and inaccurate shot , as described above, or with an equally hopeless cross or final pass.

After half-time, a divide did occur between the two sides; both were still awful, but Spain were at least poor in a good cause, at least making the effort to come forward, where as Italy just seemed to pack it in altogether. The game sank to unpalatable depths, one side not interested in playing, the other not good enough to punish them for it. I’m not sure whose reputation comes off worse in this situation, the Italians for making no attempt to look any good, or the Spaniards failing to do so despite trying quite hard.

For the Italians it was a return to the bad old days. In the last few years, and especially in the World Cup two years ago, their play had begun to make the common criticism of them being overly defensive sound like a tired old cliche. From the second half onwards however, it looked relevant again, as Luca Toni became totally isolated up front, and virtually had to come back to his own half of the field to have any chance of seeing the ball. Extra-time also came and went without any Italian advance that registered in the memory. Whether the side lacked the courage to try and dominate the midfield without the suspended Pirlo and Gattuso I’m not sure, but this is hardly an adequate excuse for such negativity.

Spain looked better after rejigging their midfield on the hour mark, taking off the ineffectual Barcelona pair Xavi and Iniesta, and bringing on Cesc Fabregas. A no-brainer to everyone else, it’s logic which still escapes the Spaniards’ nasty old fool of a manager, Luis Aragones. The performance of the two first choices must be especially worrying for Spain when considering that their opponents were much weakened in the same area. Fabregas improved the quality of Spain’s passing immediately, and added to it some much needed urgency, though it was still not good enough to break down the dour Italians and create any clearcut chances for David Villa and Fernando Torres.

Extra-time plodded on towards its inevitable conclusion with neither side prepared to show even a smidgen of the courage that Russia had in dominating their extra half-hour the night before. This is perhaps especially surprising when one considers the horrors that both sides have suffered in shoot-outs of the past. This extra period was a far cry from the one Italy played in the World Cup semi-final against the Germans two years ago, when they ended with four strikers on the pitch, so desperate were they to avoid the spot-kicks. On that occasion their positive attitude paid off and led to them winning the World Cup, but on sunday they appeared to have learned nothing from that experience.

The neutral observer was surely favouring Spain in the shoot-out, which convinced me that Italy would probably win it, as the team that deserves to win the match often seems to lose if it goes to penalties, as happened on friday with the Croatians. Spain’s nerves were allowed to settle early in the shoot-out however, as they took a successful first kick and the Italians followed it with a failure. Spain could even afford to miss their fourth penalty and come through, and fittingly it was Fabregas, the only player who really showed any quality on the night, that converted the decisive penalty.

Overall the quarter-finals produced quite a stark contrast, the big winners being the spectators in Basle, and ITV, whose two matches were both thrillers. The two matches in Vienna on the other hand, both covered on the BBC, were complete stinkers saved only by two minutes of drama at the end of Croatia and Turkey’s extra-time, and two penalty shoot-outs. By this standard, the first semi-final in Basle tonight between Germany and Turkey should be the one to see, whilst tomorrow’s match in Vienna between Spain and Russia will be the non-event, though the received wisdom would surely say that the opposite is the more likely outcome.

I am saying nothing, trying to predict what will happen in this tournament is clearly for fools, though you if you are prepared to dabble in groundless guesswork, you should have no problem in securing employment with one of our fine broadcasting networks. A Turkish side ravaged by injuries and suspensions against a now mighty-looking German team that go in as hot favourites. Only one result right? The only thing I’m certain of is that if the Germans are one goal ahead with a minute left, I don’t think too many in the crowd will be nipping off to miss the traffic.

Make Way For The Dutch Grand Master

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Euro 2008 just doesn’t know when to stop does it? It continues to raise the bar of excitement still higher; just when you think you’ve seen everything this amazing tournament just keeps delivering more. Surely though, surely we saw the tournament reach its peak on saturday with as thrilling a game of football as has been seen in this or any other championship? Surely this one can’t be beaten?? Seriously, if we really are destined to see a more dramatic match than the one between Russia and Holland, I cannot understand why the world is not as one clearing its diaries for the remaining four instalments of this incredible competition.

Now, having been heavily critical of Holland whilst everyone else has been unable to do anything but dollop great spoonfuls of golden-syrupy sweeteness all over them, it would be easy for me to be smug at what was a quite comprehensive and embarrassing defeat. All I can promise is that I will try my level best to be objective, but I can’t help but think that every single Dutch bandwagon-jumper must have a sickly taste in their mouth after this.

In truth, the kind of defeat I had predicted for Holland, one that involved sulking, cheating and general nastiness, never happened. The Dutch took their defeat fairly gracefully, and quite rightly so as they were thoroughly outplayed in every department of the game by a better team. More painful still, they were completely outfoxed tactically by the competition’s finest Dutchman, Guus Hiddink. Why the Dutch F.A haven’t spent the last 10 years begging this man to come home and bring the success to the national team that his genius would surely guarantee, only they can know.

The BBC punditry team, when giving their predictions on Football Focus, went 7-0 in favour of Holland. Only simpleton Mark Lawrenson hadn’t been asked for his view previously and, having watched the film of all his colleagues going for Holland, decided to go for Russia just to be different. It’s about time Lawro got something right, even if it was by accident, so I’ll grant him his moment of glory.

The beeb’s predictions, like everyone elses, were totally blind to the football that had been played previously, where Holland had had more than their fair share of luck against Italy, then beat a dreadful French side largely thanks to the impact play of Arjen Robben in the second half. Russia had given by far the best complete footballing display of either side in the group stages when dismantling Sweden in their final match, so their danger should have been more widely acknowledged.

Over on ITV, where the match was actually covered, things were no better. The build-up to the game was almost entirely Oranje-related, and the boys couldn’t say enough about how much they were looking forward to another exhibition of attacking beauty. The boys got their wish, but the beauty came exclusively from the team in white, who so consummately disassembled the Dutchmen that on the night Holland could be thankful the score against them didn’t comprise two figures, and were unbelievably fortunate in taking the game to extra-time.

Some of the commentary heard from Peter Drury as the game evolved and it became abundantly clear that ITV weren’t going to get the opportunity to worship the Dutch display as they clearly desired, but worse still assumed all the viewers did too, was quite disgustingly patronising. During extra-time he openly admitted to loving the Dutch, but discussed with summariser Jim Beglin that he was being swayed by the Russians such was the quality of their football. Translation: “Christ Beglin, we’ve backed the wrong one here bigtime, how can we get out of this without looking thoroughly stupid?”. My advice Peter, would be to turn up just to commentate on what actually takes place and not let your hype-induced favour for one of the two teams allow you to make such misjudged predictions.

The Russian display was exhilharating. Whilst the Dutch did their usual and sat waiting for the opposition to make the first move, Russia snapped up the initiative and pinned Holland back from the off. For the first time a Dutch defence that always looked weak on paper received a real test, and they crumbled. The Russians walked through the Dutch back line time after time with high-speed precision passing and movement that was made to look simple and effortless. Holland were forced to play so deep that they were completely unable to respond with any periods of pressure, their only threat coming from set pieces where the Russian defence showed its own fallibility.

The one thing that does elude this Russian team though is clinical finishing and, just as they had against Sweden, they wasted so many opportunities that it undermined their dominance and allowed their opponents to stay in the game. It took Russia until the 56th minute to take the lead, when Roman Pavlyuchenko turned in Sergei Semak’s cross. Pavlyuchenko seems to be your classic frustrating striker; very reliable in terms of getting on the end of chances, but the exact opposite when it comes to actually putting them away. He certainly infuriates Hiddink, who insisted that his man-of-the-match award against Greece had been unmerited due to being so wasteful infront of goal.

Russia seem to make so many chances however, that Pavlyuchenko seems to be able to miss plenty and still end up on the scoresheet in most games. It was not just the striker who was guilty on saturday however, and Russia’s failure to make the scoreline reflect the beating they had given the Dutch threatened to cost them dear.

Many inexperienced teams would have tried to put up the shutters on going one up in such a huge game, but this Russian team doesn’t appear to know the meaning of negativity. Or maybe they’re just aware that their defending isn’t quite in the same league as their attacking play and so sensibly try and keep the ball as far away from the danger end for as long as possible, a lesson a few other teams would do well to learn. However, as the semi-final prize edged nearer, some panic inevitably set in and in the last 15 minutes Russia began to clear their lines with more desperation, and for the first time in the match conceded some ground and possession to the Dutch. It’s worth pointing out that the Russians still looked the more likely to score when breaking, and that the only way Holland looked like scoring was still from a set piece.

Any neutrals watching, which clearly didn’t include our broadcasters, can only have been willing the Russians to either hang on or grab another to seal it, such would have been the injustice of a Dutch equaliser. I hardly need to tell you what happened next do I? Yep, Holland equalised from a set piece. Three minutes from time, free kick on the left, Sneijder curled in a beauty, and the statuesque defenders watched Van Nistelrooy score from his average distance of about two yards. Neutral hearts sank.

Failing to see it through having come so close must have hurt a young, inexperienced team like Russia, which only makes what happened in extra-time even more astonishing. With everyone waiting for Holland to grow in confidence after their escape, and finish off a mentally shattered side, Russia took up where they had left off, and then some. Extra-time can often be cagey, as both teams become nervous about conceding with so little time to respond, but on this occasion it was complete one-way traffic, as the Russians proved themselves to be not only technically and physically superior, but also resilient and courageous. Russia, with no fear whatsoever, attacked Holland throughout extra-time, missed yet more chances, but finally, finally sealed the semi-final place they deserved with two more goals in the second period.

Russia’s on-field driving force throughout had once again been Andrei Arshavin, who gave the sponsors their easiest man-of-the-match decision of the tournament with a virtuoso display that was comfortably the finest individual performance seen at these championships. In two matches he has changed this Russian team from potential also-rans into potential champions, not only with his own play, but with the additional confidence his presence appears to inject into his team-mates. He’s probably also added about £10 million to his transfer value, something we are almost certain to discover when Russia’s adventure comes to an end.

It’s difficult to know whether Arshavin is a midfield playmaker, winger, or striker, as at present he seems to be doing all three. If his future managers have any sense they will take their lead from Mr Hiddink and let him do whatever he wants. The free role he enjoyed allowed him to provide the crucial second Russian goal from the left hand side, and score the third from the right. The cross he provided for the second was quite unbelievable, lifting it over defender and goalkeeper from an impossibly tight position to drop just inside the far post requiring only a tap in, which it received from substitute Dmitri Torbinski.

Of course many managers could do a lot worse than take a few lessons from Guus Hiddink, who has now added to an already staggering record with another unlikely success. Hiddink said afterwards that to outplay a team like Holland tactically, technically and physically was testament to the quality of his players. That was modesty talking of course; the victory was an enormous tribute to Hiddink’s own, currently unmatched, skills as a coach. Before he took over Russia were a bunch of water-treading underachievers who wouldn’t have qualified, two years on they sit two matches away from becoming European Champions, with very few brave enough to write off their chances.

Hiddink does have one new obstacle to overcome however, and that is the semi-final. He has been thwarted at this stage with his native country and with South Korea in the World Cups of 1998 and 2002 respectively. Surely no one would now put it past him to make it third time lucky, and cement his place amongst the managerial legends.

Who’s Got The Ballacks?

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One always hopes that the knockout stages will move a tournament up a notch in the excitement stakes, but often it doesn’t work like that. The nerves tend to get worse as the stakes get higher, and that’s why we generally end up with so many penalty shoot-outs. Given that the group stages have produced such fantastic action here, it seemed less likely than usual that the latter rounds would upstage them. This, however, is Euro 2008, the finest football tournament in living memory, home of the brave and ambitious, and it seems that we’ve only just started.

Germany and Portugal were the first to do battle in the quarter-finals, and they produced a classic, once again packed with over-committed attacking football, disorganised defences, and goals, goals, goals. The Germans, embarrassed by Croatia, and nervous against Austria, returned to form with a bang, surging at the Portuguese, and exposing major flaws in their defence, which had gone relatively untested in the group.

Before long they were two up, the returning villain Schweinsteiger, sent off for idiocy against Croatia, turned hero, flying in at the near post to complete a sensational German move for the first after Ballack had released our old friend Podolski on the left. Shortly afterwards he added an assist to his tally, resisting the temptation to shoot from a thirty-five yard free-kick in favour of floating a much more dangerous ball into the mix, where Klose found the freedom of Basel thanks to non-existent Portuguese marking, and glanced in the second.

The Germans succeeded with tactics that have become the theme of the tournament, using the full width of the pitch, feeding the wingers, and getting behind the opposition defence before putting crosses in, and getting men in to the box to challenge for them. Then, once the lead was established, they used regular counter-attacks to ensure that their opponents could never feel comfortable in piling everyone forward when going in search of a comeback. They passed the ball in a fashion which was direct, but stopped short of being aerial and aimless. I would like to reiterate, these are nothing more than traditional English, or perhaps British, tactics; the tactics we’ve been told for years that we had to get rid of if we ever wanted to succeed in Europe; the tactics we’re told are from the stone age. The tactics used by Liverpool, Nottingham Forest and Aston Villa that brought six successive European Cups to England between 1977 and 1982.

The Portuguese spent the greater part of the first half doing their usual huffing and puffing and getting absolutely nowhere, but with style. Deco had his finest match of the tournament, but his efforts were so sadly wasted in a side that so desperately, desperately needs a striker. In how many more tournaments are we going to have to point this out? Please Portugal, please, please, please find a striker! There must be someone somewhere with a Portuguese granny that can improve on Nuno Gomes or Pauleta. Failing that, at least play a second idiot up front instead of one on his own.

Nuno Gomes did actually score to bring Portugal back into it before half-time, and significantly this happened when Ronaldo made a direct run through the centre, making of himself a second striker. You have to wonder why on earth Portugal didn’t just make it a permanent move, after all it’s not as though Ronaldo can’t finish, and he would have added physical presence and height, aspects of his game that are mostly wasted when he’s stuck out on the wing. You would think in this tournament of wingers that Ronaldo would be in his element, and yet he has had a quiet tournament, adding further credence to the view that he doesn’t produce when the pressure is on. He certainly grew more and more ineffectual as the game wore on and Portugal became more in need of him.

You certainly could not say the same about Michael Ballack, who was an absolute giant in the middle of the park, organising, ball-winning, passing, driving forward, and in the second half scoring the goal that proved to be the winner, rising to meet another Schweinsteiger free-kick, and again exposing a soft-centre in the Portuguese defence which was this time exacerbated by a hopeless wander and flap by goalkeeper Ricardo.

Replays showed a push by Ballack on Paulo Ferreira as he leapt to head the ball home, which Scolari saw on the big screen and showed his displeasure about, but really, this kind of thing is surely fair game in the box. Just because a replay happened to catch this one, it doesn’t change the fact that there are dozens more in every single game that go unnoticed. If free-kicks and penalties were given for this kind of thing, there would really be no point in taking any set-pieces at all.

Moreover, the ‘foul’ by Ballack was nothing compared to the assault by Pepe on Klose that led to the award of the free-kick from which Germany profited. Pepe launched himself into the striker with force, leading with his shoulder and making thumping contact with Klose’s face. The German was lucky to escape uninjured, and Pepe should have been punished with a straight red card. The fact that the defender stayed on the field meant that there was more than a hint of justice about the resulting goal.

Portugal ‘responded’ by throwing on Nani and Helder Postiga, which must have relaxed the Germans no end, and yet incredibly it was these two that combined to make them sweat for the last five minutes, the latter heading in the former’s cross as the Germans dozed off at the back. That was as good as it got for Portugal though, and the final whistle brought down the curtain on Scolari’s reign. One can only wonder what a legacy he may have left if he could have uncovered that elusive striker; Euro 2004? Almost certainly. 2006 World Cup? Maybe. As it is, his team will be remembered as nearly men, something that definitely won’t be acceptable in his next job.

The Germans had been doubted by many after a couple of mediocre group games, but you can be sure there will be few doubters left now. Certainly not amongst the bookies, who have now reinstalled them as tournament favourites. Down to serious business, several German players stood up and showed their class: Lukas Podolski, who pulled defenders all over the place with his movement, provided a constant threat, and was inches away from one of the all-time great goals as a 35-yard exorcet flew past the post; Philipp Lahm, who coped comfortably with, in effect, two right wingers in Simao and the non-defending full-back Bosingwa, and still found time to join the attack; and Schweinsteiger, who returned from the disgrace of his red card against Croatia to deliver a match-winning contribution of a goal and two assists.

Standing head and shoulders above everyone though was Ballack, a true leader with the presence to dominate the biggest of matches, and as the stakes get higher, the stronger he becomes. This is a man who led Germany to a World Cup final almost single handed when still only 25, and may have gone on to lift the trophy but for being suspended for the final. He was denied again two years ago on home soil in the semi-finals, and has been on the losing side in two Champions League finals. If he were to be the man to lift the trophy at Euro 2008, there could surely be no more deserving winner.

One enormous relief felt by all at Portugal’s demise is surely that we will no longer have to listen to the world’s worst football commentator, Clive Tyldesley, turn ITV into MUTV. Ronaldo’s lame display continually made a fool of Tyldesley, who gave him the big build up every time he received the ball around the box with a hearty “…and here’s CristiANO RONALDO…”, only for the next line to fall flat on its arse as Ronaldo’s contribution limped into obscurity. A suggestion for you ITV – Tyldesley won’t be interested in the rest of this now that Ronaldo’s out, I mean surely he can’t base an entire commentary around Edwin Van Der Sar? Do yourselves, and especially us, a favour by packing this horrendously biased idiot off early to prepare his Champions League preview, and please give the remainder of your fixtures to Jon Champion.

In fact, I will make you a unique offer – I promise to watch at least one of the dual broadcasted semi-finals on ITV if Champion is in the chair. I don’t promise to watch your analysis, but the second the BBC pass to John Motson, I’ll be over.

I await your reply with anticipation.

The Good, The Bad, and Pogatetz

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I suppose it was probably too much to expect another capricious evening of confusion and disarray, and it was certainly too much to expect Austria to keep their hopes alive by shocking their illustrious neighbours. The Austrians, as the saying doesn’t really go, couldn’t score in a house of ill repute. As Alan Hansen put it: “If the Austrians had sat back and played on the break, they wouldn’t have scored. If they’d played all out attack, they wouldn’t have scored. If the Germans had left the field for 10 minutes and had a cup of tea, the Austrians still wouldn’t have scored”.

That, in a nutshell, is the story of not only this match, but of Austria’s entire Euro 2008 adventure. Apart from making a sluggish start in the first half against Croatia, Austria played with passion, creativity, organisation, and will to win. Unfortunately none of these guarantee you goals. It must have been incredibly frustrating for Austria watching the Germans create absolutely nothing for Podolski and Klose, they must have wanted to ask the Germans if they could borrow one of them for five minutes, seeing as they weren’t using them.

Knowing the Austrians luck, if the Germans had agreed to lend them a striker, they would have got Mario Gomez, who unfortunately would fit seamlessly in to the current Austrian set-up. The only clearcut chance created by Germany all night fell to Gomez inside the first three minutes, and he robbed the Greeks of a title they seemed nailed-on for by achieving the miss of the tournament so far, failing to tap-in to an empty net from four yards out with no defender in sight.

The rest of the match set into a pattern, Austria got the ball efficiently to their wingers, who consistently got past their full-backs and put in dangerous crosses. To absolutely no-one. The Germans, who only needed a point, could barely be bothered as it became quite clear a draw was near-enough guaranteed. When your captain is as model a professional as Michael Ballack however, nothing gets left to chance, and he stepped up early in the second half to rocket in the tournament’s first successful free kick.

That was that, and there really was no suggestion that it was going to change, but whilst the outcome was predictable, the evening was not without its interesting diversions. Firstly there was the Austrian players accommodation of their German guests. At face value the game didn’t appear dirty, and yet there were several strange incidents of the TV director suddenly cutting to a shot, usually some yards away from the ball, of a mysteriously flattened German. Time and again the referee was distracted from the play, and would suddenly arrive on the scene wearing a puzzled expression, as he found an injured German player, and no red shirt within 10 yards of him. The whole thing was mystifying, I can’t possibly speculate on what brought these episodes about.

Could it be that the two managers were debating this point when they suddenly decided to launch into a bout of touchline handbags, for which they were both despatched to the stand. Once the referee had intervened, the two managers became united in their disdain for the offical instead, and bonded like two cell-ins about to start a five-stretch together. On reaching the stand, Joachim Low managed to bump into his Chancellor, Angela Merkel, and looked as though he may take a seat beside her. Moments later, Low had found an alternative seat beside Oliver Bierhoff, perhaps having realised that the country’s leader might not have been the ideal companion had the match not gone Germany’s way.

Also adding a touch of the irregular to this game was Austrian defender Emanuel Pogatetz, who gives one the impression that he may not be of this world. He looks like the madman on the bus that you pray doesn’t sit next to you, terrifyingly wide-eyed and unstable. Pogatetz of course plays for Middlesbrough, and when you study his erratic behaviour along with that of Turkey’s Tuncay, you do have to worry about the effect the town’s infamous fumes are having on non-natives of Teesside.

Pogatetz at one stage picked up the ball and attempted to take a bite out of it. Now I don’t know about you, but if I was an attacker that is one opponent I would be giving a wide berth. Personally, I would be perfectly comfortable with any accusations of lying too deep, “Sorry boss, I am doing my best to get further forward but you see the thing is there’s a serial killer at centre-back, and I have a family”. Maybe Pogatetz was so fed up at being part of Austria’s hopeless campaign that he’d asked the manager to sub him and been refused, so now thought summoning the men in white coats represented his best chance of escape.

As I said, predictable but not uneventful. The Germans were presumably more than a little nervous at the potential humiliation of losing this one, which perhaps explains why they weren’t exactly fully committed, but with Portugal now looming the Germans aren’t exactly taking with them an abundance of confidence or momentum from this group.

Croatia on the other hand are flying. Having already secured the group, they made nine changes to the side that beat Germany but, unlike Portugal on Monday, Croatia appeared to have used the tactic to their own advantage. Instead of looking like players sent out to make a token gesture in a meaningless match, the Croat reserves had the look of a side motivated to prove themselves worthy of a place in the side and to play their part in a genuine team effort. Or maybe it’s just that Croatia’s reserves are much more capable than Portugal’s, who knows?

Whatever the reason, Croatia very impressively disposed of Poland with a 1-0 win that should have been many more, and completed a perfect group programme. Their goalscorer Ivan Klasnic, still wearing protection after a kidney transplant just last year, could have had a hat-trick on the night but for more heroics from the goalkeeper of the tournament, and the only Pole to cover himself in anything like glory at Euro 2008, Celtic’s Artur Boruc. In the end the striker had to settle just for scoring the winner. Klasnic’s story of triumph over adversity sums up the mentality of the whole Croatian team, who are showing an extraordinary unity which is threatening to overcome both the perceived gulf in class between them and their more famous rivals, and the loss of their best striker, Eduardo Da Silva.

The Croatian celebrations at the final whistle once again revealed the togetherness of their squad, and the respect they have for their coach, Slaven Bilic, who looks by far and away the strongest leader at this tournament. The entire squad took a lap of honour, just as they had against Germany, and every individual player seemed keen to embrace Bilic, and he to reciprocate. Croatia now have more confidence and momentum than any team besides Holland, but the difference between their soaring team spirit and the ever-fragile Dutch squad is cavernous.

With their next test being a quarter-final against the gritty Turks on friday, Croatia will now be favourites to reach the semi-finals, which is a stage they have never yet breached. If they make it, they are almost certain to be amongst those to whom lifting trophies is the norm, and it is then we will then find out if their squad possesses the one quality we can’t yet be sure about – belief.

It was generally another excellent night for the BBC, with Martin O’Neill and Alan Hansen in sparkling form, particularly during the half-time interval. When asked about the incident involving the German and Austrian managers, O’Neill dismissively replied “Well I don’t blame them for taking no notice of the 4th official, they’re always wrong”.

As the second half approached, Gary Lineker attempted to take back the reins ready for his handover to the commentary team, but was ignored completely by O’Neill and Hansen who preceded to lean over Alan Shearer and conduct their own in-depth discussion on the German second-half tactics. It’s little moments of lost control like this that O’Neill provides, and that makes the BBC coverage so much more entertaining than ITV’s joyless efforts.

The beeb boys did however let themselves down, right at the end of the show as they were looking ahead to tonight’s Group C conclusion. Hansen and O’Neill were almost wetting themselves at the prospect of France v Italy! O’Neill even made the astonishingly misguided observation that ‘The tournament starts tomorrow’. What? Are we ever going to get away from this boot-licking of the football aristocracy? Anyway, could someone please explain to me what they were getting so excited about? Italy v France will be a dead-rubber, and a guaranteed bore-fest of all time, should Romania score an early goal, and they both realise they’re going home.

The truth is, the clue to this evening lies within the following statement: For the final round of Group C to deliver any excitement, it is reliant on the spirit of fair play being invoked to the full – by the Dutch.

I shall say no more.

You Asked For It (Part 2)

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Another day, another team who think disorganisation and panic are vital ingredients in defending a lead. Not that I’m complaining, as the culprits in question this time contributed to one the most astonishing games seen at this or any other championship.

More viewers will inevitably tune in to the final, or semi-finals, but what they don’t understand is that it is the final round of group matches which provide the truly unmissable fayre at a tournament. Mind you, this group had the potential to peter out timidly; one game was a dead rubber with Portugal already through and the Swiss already out, which meant it was left to Czech Republic and Turkey as the only ones in a position to provide drama. They didn’t disappoint.

With Euro 2008 already being touted as one of the greatest football tournaments ever, two more unfashionable sides raised the bar by several more notches. UEFA had already offered the match the possibility of breaking new ground, by declaring that a penalty-shoot out would settle a draw at ninety minutes, with the two sides having identical records after the first two games. In the end it wasn’t necessary, and the tension created in the final 15 minutes surpassed anything that the penalties could have thrown up.

The Czechs dominated the first half to such an extent that it must have been worrying to end it only one goal up. They got their direct game based around the giant Jan Koller working to far greater effect than they had against the Swiss in their opening match, and Turkey couldn’t cope. A traditional British style of play was employed (is it always us who must learn from the Europeans?), and was thoroughly enjoyable to watch, with the ball being played forwards with urgency to two wingers attacking at pace, who regularly got behind the full-backs before delivering crosses for a big target. And those crosses, they kept coming in, causing difficulty almost every time, and Koller inevitably got his head to one to register his 55th international goal.

Turkey, who had virtually surrendered all possession in the first period, had to make a change and they did. Tuncay was moved in from the wing to play in the centre of midfield and ran himself into the ground in order to get the Turks back into the game. It initially worked, as Turkey began to apply pressure, but then they were caught by a Czech break which resulted in a second for Jaroslav Plasil. The Turks on the touchline raged that they had not been allowed to make a substitution with one of their defenders clearly injured, but the ball hadn’t gone out of play in order to allow this to take place.

ITV’s Jon Champion, like the rest of us, thought that this would be the signal for Turkish meltdown. On previous evidence it’s difficult to argue that this did seem the most likely outcome, especially with the disappointment at going two down exacerbated by the injustice they felt about the second Czech goal. The final half an hour might easily have seen Turkey end the game without their full compliment. As it turned out, that’s exactly what happened, but by the time it did Champion, and all of us, owed the Turks an apology.

The Czechs came within inches of burying the match when Jan Polak smacked one against the post, but Turkey survived that, then launched a quite staggering comeback. The inspiration for this was the much-maligned (especially by me) Tuncay, who ran and ran and ran some more, and set a magnificent example to any fragile temperaments there may have been amongst his colleagues. His endeavour embodied a never-say-die attitude that began to rub off amongst his team mates, and was encapsulated when he ran twice across the pitch to receive a replacement linesman’s flag, and deliver it to the official who had managed to break the original.

Still two down with a quarter of an hour left, the Turks were piling everyone forward. It was by this time that the Czechs had made the fatal error of retreating to the edge of their own box, guaranteeing that they would only the final period one way – under intense pressure. Turkey finally broke through thanks to a smart finish by Turan, and the Czechs knew they were hanging on for dear life. They made it to within three minutes of the ninety ending before Petr Cech made surely the biggest howler of his career, though by no means his first of the season, and handed an equaliser to Turkish captain Nihat on a big shiny solid silver plate. Bedlam ensued at the Turkish end of the ground, and on the bench, as they celebrated a well earned shot at a place in the quarters via a penalty shoot-out.

The drama, however, had barely started. The predicted Turkish indiscipline had not materialised, but there was now plenty of it from the Czechs, who lost their way completely. The next Turkish attack resulted in a shambolic Czech defensive line being comfortably breached by that man Nihat, who stunned everyone with a majestic curling finish off the underside of the bar. The bewildered Czechs, who had taken off their wingers and now had no attacking shape whatsoever, attempted to launch a response, and Milan Baros inevitably began to strip off but amongst the mayhem never actually made it onto the pitch.

Four minutes of injury time were signalled almost immediately after the third Turkish goal, but these were barely underway when suddenly curtailed by yet more craziness. A disbelieving crowd saw Turk goalkeeper Volkan Demirel make a valiant attempt to secure himself a chance of saving some penalties after all, by first flying out of his goal to flap at a ball, leaving an empty net which the Czechs failed to find, then following it up by shoving Koller to the ground in full view of the referee who dismissed him immediately. What Demirel had almost certainly forgotten was that the Turks had used all their subs. So, the question was, who would go in goal for the remaining time? There was only one answer of course, the heroic, if completely insane, Tuncay pulled on the gloves, and safely kept a three minute clean sheet.

The broken Czechs slumped, and amid the chaos there was no real chance for them to bid goodbye properly to two heroes, manager Karel Bruckner, and the magnificent Koller, both of whose careers came to an end with the final whistle. They should have had more to show for a fantastic Czech dynasty, and they will always look back knowing that Euro 2004 should have been their moment.

What this incredible match offered was yet another example, and once again I beg TV executives to take note, of what makes football the phenomenon it is. In fact if all games were like this there would surely be no non-believers left. At face value, this match was as far from being box-office as it gets, and therein lies the problem. Czech Republic v Turkey, ask our TV friends? Who’s interested in that? Where are the superstars? I can’t see anyone from a cola commercial on this pitch, which one out there earns 80 grand-a-week and dates a model? How the hell do we sell this? Surely the people would rather watch Portugal?

The truth is you don’t need any of the above. When left alone, football looks after itself. Without any help at all this match descended into glorious anarchy. Don’t these people realise the lifeblood of football is it’s unpredictability, and that’s the very thing being eroded by the Premier League and Champions league as every season goes by. Perfection isn’t exciting, we want disorder, pandemonium and instability. This match had them all in spades, which is why it will live long in the memory of anyone lucky enough to have seen it.

The Swiss bowed out of their home tournament against Portugal reserves, and happily went out with a victory for their departing coach Kobi Kuhn. He will surely look back on Hakan Yakin’s scoring record of 3 in 2, and wonder why on earth the last part of that stat is only 2. The man who provided the Swiss’ only threat of the tournament was not given the opportunity to do so in the opening game, and they’ll always wonder if it could have been different. Only saw highlights of this one thanks to the simultaneous kick-offs, but from what I could tell Portugal appeared to be offended that they’d actually been asked to play the match.

Their early demise was a great shame for the home fans, who are a massive part of any tournament. For national bonkersness we must now look to Austria, and if they beat the Germans believe me, it will be on a grand scale. If it comes about in as dramatic a fashion as last night’s game, I think I shall need a lie down. As this incredible tournament has gone on, each match has had more and more to live up to, but has somehow risen to the challenge. We just have to hope now that Czech Republic v Turkey doesn’t end up as the match of the tournament.

You Asked For It (Part 1)

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Writing about matches after subsequent matches have taken place sometimes offers a different perspective, for instance it opens up the opportunity to see teams make the same stupid errors, and you just want to ask them “Weren’t you watching yesterday?, Didn’t they do exactly the same thing?, And didn’t they look stupid?, And don’t you now look even more stupid?”.

More of that in the next post however, first to take care of Saturday. Group D is not exactly getting into the spirit of things at Euro 2008, it’s a bit too well organised and not especially adventurous. It’s not dull or completely bereft of interest by any means, but it needs a bit of chaos to get it going.

Spain and Sweden played out a largely uneventful encounter, which looked all on for an appropriate draw until a little late genius from David Villa settled it in Spain’s favour. The match did reveal the vulnerability of the Spaniards, who looked pretty clueless when it came to making chances, and appear to be relying on their two superstars up front to both make and take their own opportunities. They got away with it in this match by the skin of their teeth, but you wonder how many more times they will.

Sweden however, were the side guilty of brainlessness in this match, and got their just desserts for settling for a point with a level of negativity that was quite unnecessary. After the two sides had traded scrappy goals in the first half, the Swedes largely dominated, and looked more than capable of causing an upset. As the second half dozed along however, the Swedes drifted back, and back, and back… and then came the substitution of the forwards, which left them with no outlet and therefore made ball retention much more difficult for themselves. Consequently the Spaniards ended up with more possession at the end of the match, and despite not exactly using it to apply unbearable pressure, the fact is that if you’ve got the ball then you’ve got a chance, and if a chance falls to either of Spain’s strikers, there’s only one place it’s finishing up.

Just why do teams do this? I’ve seen this kind of petrified mass retreat so often before, and it just never works. If Sweden wanted to protect a point, the logical thing to do is surely attempt to keep the ball as far away from your goal and the opposition players as possible. You certainly don’t achieve it by altering the shape of your team into something unrecognisable to the players, forcing them to play entirely in one half (the wrong half) of the pitch, and sending the opposition a postcard to let them know you no longer have any intention, or possibility, of scoring another goal in this game.

Spain can consider themselves lucky, because against a more courageous side they would have been beaten. We should not be surprised of course, except perhaps for the fact that Spain’s inevtiable collapse has started a little earlier than usual. Generally they complete a full group programme impressively before imploding. Alright, they haven’t exactly fallen apart yet but the cracks have definitely started to appear in the form of a fragile looking rearguard, and a void of creativity in midfield. Why the Spanish coach Luis Aragones, a racist old fool, chooses to start with the ineffective Xavi and not Cesc Fabregas is beyond me and presumably anyone who’s watched a Premier League match in the last two years.

It’s just irresistable for a commentator to resist a cliche. I might have said it was like a moth to a flame, but that would just make me look silly, so I won’t. I am overall very happy with the return of Jon Champion to the ITV microphone, he has far more acute sense of perspective than his idiot colleagues Tyldesley and Drury, far less likely to use inappropriate hyperbole, or, as in the case of Tyldesley, grovel at the feet of any ‘big 4’ Premier League player. Alas he still appears to be third choice behind them for some reason, but at least they are making use of him. Even Champion can’t resist the cliche though, and it was a slight disappointment that he couldn’t get through Greece v Russia without reducing himself to the cringeworthy “It’s a Greek Tragedy”, and “No need for Russia to beware Greeks bearing gifts”.

I must admit at this point that I did myself make some allusion to the whole Greek tragedy thing after their first game, but I like to think that I at least made some attempt to steer it clear of the obvious and repetitive. I must admt also that my chosen avatars to represent the various nations on this blog may have a hint of cliche about them. The difference is that I am under no obligation to maintain any standards, I shall be as crass and predictable as I like if I think it’s funny. Champion really needs to try harder.

As you might have already guessed from those choice cuts of questionable commentator’s language, Greece continued on their merry quest to make the worst defence of a trophy ever seen. Greece appear to be the poorest side in Euro 2008 by such a distance you have to wonder if they shouldn’t have been made to play in every group in the interest of fairness; it seems wrong that only three teams in the competition get the opportunity for a gift three points.

Not that I’m not pleased that Greece are taking part, that’s why I advocate them having more matches as opposed to none at all. They are after all the best comedy value in the tournament, and they continued in saturday’s match where they had left off against Sweden. Their attitude to the match wasn’t quite as comically negative as it had been against the Swedes, this time it was just ordinary dullness, which was disappointing. Their goalkeeper Nikopolidis more than made up for it however, with a second hilarious howler of the tournament, taking an inexplicable stroll towards the left hand edge of his box in the direction of an overhit cross, blissfully ignorant to the fact that a Russian was several yards better off in the race. The hapless custodian looked on as the ball was lobbed gently back over his head into the centre, where Zyryanov was waiting to tap in to the vacated net.

Greece ensured that a sense of balance was applied to the occasion by proving themselves equally capable of slapstick at the other end as well, as Charisteas put forward a leading contender for miss of the tournament, failing to convert a header when unmarked from 3 yards. The striker showed his prowess with the boots was on a par with his heading too, when turning down the opportunity to fire an easy chance past the Russian keeper, instead choosing to give the watching defenders a textbook demonstration of the safe back-pass.

The fact that Russia actually seemed a little tentative about making an attempt to increase their lead probably tells you the extent of their ambition in this tournament. They now face a winner-takes-all clash against the Swedes, but having scored only one goal against the Greeks and been leaky against Spain, have handed the draw to Sweden.

Greece of course are out, and their presence will be greatly missed in Euro 2008, if not for reasons they would appreciate. They will now play a dead-rubber against Spain; their swansong as European Champions. If what we’ve seen from them so far is just the first act then I, for one, cannot wait for the finale.

Congratulations Croatia, Worthy European Champions!

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Well that’s it then, a magnificent end to a great tournament, with Croatia deservedly lifting their first major trophy. I must say it flew by for me this time. The final went to the underdogs in thrilling fashion, as Croatia’s slick, high quality passing game proved too much for the tournament favourites Germany, and goals from Darijo Srna and Ivica Olic swept the Croats and their exciting young coach Slaven Bilic to a memorable victory.

I’m sorry? What do you mean? Croatia haven’t won the championship? But I saw them do it! I mean, they beat the Germans, all the coaching staff came on to the field, the players did a lap of honour and threw their shirts into the crowd, Bilic took a bow infront of his adoring public, celebratory music boomed out, the fans embraced one another; okay there was no trophy, but I just assumed this was part of some new UEFA security directive.

All right I’ll knock it off now, but watching the way Croatia celebrated their group B victory over Germany yesterday, you had to wonder what on earth they will get up to if they do become champions in Vienna on June 29th. This idea, by the way, will now be scoffed at far less after this result, and Croatia’s reaction at the final whistle which suggested they had just won the whole thing, perhaps reflected that all connected with the team had gained the belief that they could do just that.

Croatia came into this competition as no more than dark horses, their chances mainly being written off due to the absence of Eduardo Da Silva, their greatest forward threat in qualifying, and a lack of experience at the highest level. They overcame both in thoroughly convincing fashion, sending the tournament favourites packing with plenty apparently still left in the tank. The Germans were made to look pedestrian and unsophisticated, as Croatia picked their way through them at will with a display of technical brilliance that matched, and probably surpassed, anything seen so far from their more luminous peers in other groups.

If the Croats’ opener had been scored by Argentina, we would have seen dozens more replays by now, and it was not all that dissimilar to the ‘perfect goal’ that the Argentines scored against Serbia and Montenegro in the World Cup, a stunning multi-pass move that displayed patience and purpose, technique and flair. The Germans were lucky to go in at half-time only one down, but their luck soon ran out in the second half as a deflected cross embarrassed Lehmann and provided a tap in for Olic, settling a few Croatian nerves which had begun to appear. With a two-goal lead though, the Croats relaxed, and got back to attacking at will again. Only when the lead was reduced late in the game by

LU – LU – LUKAS PODOLSKI!

did the Croatians begin to think about looking after what they had. They even did this superbly, and a seemingly inevitable 10-minute German avalanche never materialised. The tournament officially has new contenders.

In Vienna the Austrian and Polish hordes, distraught, no doubt, at the Germans’ demise, somehow dragged themselves to the stadium or town centre for an enormous knees-up. The Austrians seem to have come into this shindig with such low expectations for the team that mass drinking appears to be the sum total of what they imagine they can get out of it, and it would appear they intend to make the most of that. The problem is, the team never make it that easy. How many Austrian fans do you think are asking today “why couldn’t we just get caned 3 times and be done with it?”, because the team have decided to play so heroically they have given their public the one thing they probably dreaded the most. Hope.

Austria conclusively secured the title of the Scotland of Euro 2008 by confounding expectations for a second time and giving a supposedly superior opposition an absolute roasting, but failed majestically to convert their dominance into a victory thanks to an irresistable combination of incompetence and bad luck.

Now I’m not sure of my facts here, but I always imagined Austria to be place with an above average number of barn doors, but you would never have guessed it from watching their strikers, who displayed a quite stunning inability to hit one. The strange thing is, for a team that we have been led to believe are useless, there doesn’t appear to be a great deal else wrong. They displayed a superb attitude from the start, attacked with skill and pace down the flanks, and created genuine chances, admittedly with a little help from the worst defence in the tournament. They were also well-organised in defence, passed the ball well, worked hard at closing down space, etc, etc. All the elements appear to be there. They just couldn’t hit the target if it was fifty feet wide.

Austria managed to miss three one-on-one, clean through on the keeper, take your time mate, help yourself, pick your spot chances, amongst a whole host of other near misses in a frantic first half that Poland would have been lucky to escape from with a 4-0 deficit. This being Scotland…sorry, Austria, they went in with a 1-0 lead, thanks to the second outrageously offside goal of the tournament which the BBC commentary team of Guy Mowbray and Mark Lawrenson, a buffoon, failed to notice altogether. This despite the director giving them a replay with the most dramatic ‘this is the moment he is offside, just here, see, HERE!’ pause that you could wish for.

Had that been the only goal of the game, it would have been an injustice on such a scale that I would have advised the Austrians to seek assistance from the European Court of Human Rights, and it looked like being just that, until England’s standard bearer at these championships, ref Howard Webb, intervened. A blatant and brainless act of assault from Polish defender Lewandowski on Sebastian Proedl, as another inevitably fruitless cross made its way into the box two minutes into injury time, resulted in an Austrian pen. Now given the earlier profligacy from not dissimilar range, and with the small added pressure of it being the last kick of the game to stay in the tournament, I can’t imagine there was exactly an abundance of confidence amongst the Austrians. Thankfully though, in it went, and we at least have a host nation still offering a faint pulse in Euro 2008. Unfortunately, the grim German reaper is looming.

More important than the result though is that this was just another fantastic game, in what is turning into the best tournament in years. This match, like the Switzerland v Turkey game the night before and a few others, resembled an English game from the 70s or 80s, but with added technique; fast attacking football, using both wings, with a healthy amount of shambolic defending. What more could you ask for?

I’ve been trying to think how many times in the past I’ve got to this stage of a tournament and not been constantly moaning about diving, play-acting, whining, crazy referees, unambitious teams ruining the game with dire tactics, etc etc, and besides the French there’s been none of it. For the most part we’ve had positive football, played in a good spirit, well refereed, and with the least amount of cheating I can remember for a long time. Many of the best games have involved the unfashionable teams, a fact which completely contradicts ITV’s opinion that we have to watch Portugal, Holland or Spain in order to be entertained.

Come to think of it, this blog might be in trouble, because TV coverage aside, I’m running out of things to moan about. Now who’s playing today, let me see… Ah! France v Holland. What a relief.

Come on, admit it…

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…you missed it didn’t you? Even many hardened fans will consult the tournament schedule in order to find a gap, a night when they can return to the real world and try to ensure that their normal lives aren’t damaged beyond repair by an entire month of football worship. I know you’re out there, and I know many of you would have chosen Switzerland v Turkey as your one to miss. The BBC appeared to agree with you too, relegating this match to BBC2. Shame, shame, shame on you all.

The best match of the tournament so far by a mile saw the earliest ever exit of a Host Nation in this event, but only after they had been sent through an emotional mangle thanks to the weather gods, who intervened midway through the first half with a match-altering downpour, perhaps sent as a reward to those of us who had kept the faith.

The opening twenty minutes actually suggested that the absentees may have got it right, as an anxious stalemate began to develop. Then the heavens opened, and naturally the results were glorious. Within minutes the football match had been replaced by It’s A Knockout, as players began to run, fall over and collide with each other as standard, and the ball became an afterthought. Wherever he was watching, I bet Stuart Hall was laughing uncontrollably, whilst awarding both sides 15 points.

To anyone reading this who is involved with the production of our television coverage, especially if you work for ITV, please try to understand that it is this supporters really want to see. Judging by the groveling of Rider, Tyldesley and co, they seem to think that we’re all here to sit open-jawed at the technical prowess of Portugal, Holland or Spain and all the millionaires they bring with them. Wrong. What we want is mayhem, pandemonium, instability, and lunacy. Preferably in farcical conditions with footballing life or death at stake. Last night, we got what we came for.

Hansen and co might have been on the wrong channel, but they were in no doubt that this was pure entertainment. Alan Shearer and Lee Dixon revealed a hitherto dormant sense of humour, relishing the slippery chaos to the full, and laughing fully in the faces of unfortunate defenders with the rest of us.

Switzerland initially benefitted from the cloudburst, as Turkey’s short passing game was rendered useless by the puddles that began appearing all over the pitch, and one puddle in particular which had formed in the Turkish six-yard box assisted a Turk in Swiss colours, Hakan Yakin, to open the scoring. Hakan missed an almost identical chance (an open goal from three yards), just minutes later, and incredibly the absurd circumstances resulted in just that single goal. If the rain had continued into the second half, or if UEFA were as precious about players health as they are the tournament schedule, the game would almost certainly have been abandoned. However the rain relented at half-time, allowing the Swiss ground staff to do an extraordinary mopping up job, making the pitch perfectly playable again in the second half. Big mistake on their part.

It probably seemed sensible at the time, but as the Swiss were mainly relying on pinging long balls towards their pacy forwards, the sodden surface was assisting them far more than their opponents. In hindsight the act was either commendably fair-minded, or criminally naive. The spirit the entire match was played in suggested the former, which given that the last time these two met competitively (in a qualifying play-off for the last World Cup) the match ended in a full-scale riot this was a refreshing surprise.

Turkey grew in confidence, and knocked the ball around as well as anyone in this tournament so far, though given their unfashionable status no one on TV bothered pointing this out. The goals that secured their victory were somewhat fortuitous, a lovely move ending in a goalkeeper error, and a speculative shot aided by a deflection, but they were thoroughly deserved on the balance of play, and given that Switzerland appeared the better side only when playing in a swimming pool.

That said, they very nearly managed to pull it out of the bag in a frantic last 20 minutes, as both sides realised a draw was no good to them and launched into each other with gusto. It was magnificent viewing, and the Swiss fans would have raised the roof had they managed to convert a 4-on-1 breakaway in the 89th minute. They failed, and moments later Turkey punished them with the clock ticking into the second minute of injury time. Cue what seemed a 50-strong Turkish bench invading the pitch, indulging in wild celebrations whilst yards away from them there was devastation. The TV director filled his boots, quickly switching from a shot of Turkish coach Fatih Terim making a very half-hearted attempt to calm his charges down, to one of his Swiss counterpart staring numbly into space. Pure gold.

It’s hard not to feel sorry for the Swiss, just imagine how long their fans have been waiting for this. All of them decked out in national costmes, faces painted, ready to unite for an amazing month-long adventure. Four days in, and its all over. It’s sad for everyone because host nations and their fans are great for the atmosphere of the tournament, but the truth is the Swiss never looked good enough. However, they weren’t nearly as dull as in the World Cup, and a cynic might suggest that they would have been better off sticking to a plan that did work for them up to a point, but they should take credit for entering the spirit of the tournament and at least trying to give their supporters something memorable.

Prior to the fun part of the evening Portugal had recorded an impressive, if somewhat predictable, victory over Czech Republic, predictably with the help of Ronaldo, the reaction to whose first goal of the tournament was met with predictably toady obseqiousness by commentators on both channels, who squirmed to find superlatives for what was a tidily placed sidefoot shot from the edge of the box. As for the Czechs, they were largely just, well, predictable.

On last night’s evidence, I think Turkey will fancy their chances in a winner-takes-all meeting with the Czechs on Sunday, especially as their opponents now appear to be uncertain as to which striker should be sent out to receive no service, Koller or Baros. The inevitability of the Portuguese win, in what they would have considered their toughest fixture of the group on paper, will strengthen their claims on the trophy, but I have a feeling that they could get caught cold in the knockout stages due to failing to receive a real test.

During the Switzerland v Turkey match, news broke that the Portuguese boss ‘Big Phil’ Scolari, is off to join the Premier League circus with Chelsea. So no doubt what his advice will be to Ronaldo regarding his potential transfer to Real Madrid then. This is good news, as Scolari will bring some much needed dignity and decorum to a world dominated by egomaniacs, as the above picture displays.

Now, having finally discovered the secret behind what can really make Euro 2008 into the most exciting tournament ever, I’m off to check the weather forecast.

Encore! Encore!

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Whilst it’s a well known fact that the Ancient Greeks were the first masters of tragedy and comedy, it’s a debate in literary circles whether they can truly be credited with getting to grips with the idea of the hybrid genre of tragicomedy. The argument may step up a gear tonight, after Greece’s modern footballers suggested that the tradition was flowing through the blood.

The defending champs delivered an opening performance that was so dreadful that it went beyond bad, came all the way around again to good, then soared to hilarious. The Greek display had the appearance of being choreographed, so perfect was its execution of comic timing during passages of despairingly poor play.

Sweden looked on dumbfounded, as the Greeks gained possession in their own half, and preceded to pass it amongst themselves aimlessly in the fashion of West Germany and Austria in the 1982 World Cup, when the two sides fixed the result in order to both qualify for the next phase. The Swedish crowd whistled with fury as time after time, the Greeks just walked around with the ball showing no interest whatsoever in participating in a football match.

Maybe Greece have grown so fond of their tag of champion spoilers that, aware they have no chance of producing a repeat, they’ve come here to parody the concept. Perhaps their three games at Euro 2008 will soon be arriving on a stage, entitled Greece Are Dull: The Musical. In its way it was enormously entertaining, and the way in which Greece seemed to deliberately play as awfully as possible definitely contained a certain artistry, comparable, say, with Les Dawson’s piano playing, or Tommy Cooper’s magician’s act.

Greece’s apparent preference for the performing arts didn’t end there either, their number also included a classic hero-villain in centre back Sotiris Kyrgiakos, who first tried to combine with a team mate to make a human vice in which to crush Freddie Ljungberg, then spent the rest of the match attempting to render redundant as many of Zlatan Ibrahimovic’s body parts that he could gain access to.

Before the curtain came down, it was time for the final act; a stunningly executed piece of slapstick involving a high ball, a floundering custodian facing his own goal, and four pairs of legs succeeding more in kicking each other than the ball. Eventually the ball appeared to find its own way into the corner of the net, and the show was over to a thoroughly merited standing ovation. Alright, maybe the standing ovation was from the magnificent Swedish fans for their players, but in my head they were all cheering our Greek entertainers.

ITV’s Steve Rider proved to have his finger as far from a football fan’s pulse as possible by declaring “At least the first goal made it worth watching”. The first Swedish goal, a decent strike from Ibrahimovic, scored whilst the defenders were presumably busy with a costume change, represented the intermission drink or ice cream, a pleasant enough diversion, but soon forgotten again in a long evening of cultural indulgence.

 

Before the Greeks took the stage, Spain had earlier made yet another good start to a tournament, setting up perfectly their usual scenario of false dawns and miserable failure. If the inevitable crash to earth is as spectacular as the lift-off though, it should be worth watching, as Spain gave pretty much a complete performance, ruthlessly exposing Russian defensive hesitancy with forwards oozing pace and class, then giving a masterclass in how to complete a victory by snuffing out any thoughts of Russian resistance in the second half with perfect possession retention.

It will all end in tears though, as we know, and it was pleasantly surprising to see the BBC pundits not falling into the trap of bestowing upon Spain the status of genuine contenders. A studio full of once bitten pundits stonewalled the issue beautifully, heaping praise on Spain’s display, but remaining transparently non-committal on the issue of their further progress. Sensible boys.

Spain’s day for sorrow is to come later though, tonight the tears belong to Greece. Whether they are tears induced by sadness or laughter depends on your position, but one thing is certain: The show must go on.

Would everybody please calm down!

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Having been their harshest critic, it is only fair that I give Holland due credit for setting out on the road to proving me wrong. The Dutch scored two classic breakaway goals that lit up the tournament, and crushed Italy in a way they cannot have suffered in years in a match of this status.

ITV however, with something approaching a decent game to follow the abomination that the BBC had just shown, of which more later, just had to go completely over the top. All of a sudden the final whistle blows and the Dutch are being hailed as geniuses, their two counter-attacks in one game being compared with the sublimity that was Total Football, a dynasty which lasted nearly ten years, and Marco Van Basten’s famous goal being broadcast in dangerously close proximity to shots of Dirk Kuyt. Anyone would think Italy had just been given a footballing lesson on the scale of Brazil 1970, not just been caught flat footed on the break twice by a bit of slick passing. Some perspective is required I think.

If you asked Holland what their ideal scenario for a match would be, they would ask for a goal start, giving them the opportunity to sit and do absolutely nothing whilst waiting for a chance of a counter-attack. The officals duly obliged with the first part, allowing Holland a highly illegal and match altering deadlock-breaker after Van Nistelrooy tapped in from a position of at least five yards offside inside the six-yard box.

On the subject of which, why is it when there is such a blatant mistake made by the officials, the commentator describes the goal as ‘debatable’? This was true of both creepy Clive Tyldesley on ITV, and Motty on the BBC highlights. “A highly debatable goal”. What’s debatable about it? The man’s a mile offside and the officials have made an embarrassing mistake. There’s no counter-argument, where’s the debate? Most irritating.

I actually have a theory that the offside rule is altered on the hoof to allow goals by Ruud Van Nistelrooy. I remain convinced that the rule change that allows a player in an offside position to score in a second phase of play was made during a league game between Manchester United and Southampton in order to allow a Van Nistelrooy goal.

Anyway, Italy quickly went in search of the equaliser, but were swiftly caught cold at their own corner by a stunning break finished by Wesley Sneijder. Earlier, Van Nistelrooy could have given the Dutch a lead with a real goal, but turned down a tap in to instead make a comical attempt to cheat a penalty off Buffon, who saw the striker coming a mile off and made him look a fool.

In the second half Holland didn’t exactly sit back, rather they ceased to participate in the match altogether, and you felt that had the Italians pulled one back the Dutch might have crumbled. The Azzurri were soon to realise though that this was not their night, as one chance after another was spurned, and one scramble after another fell at the feet of an Orange-clad defender. The pressure grew, the substitutions that introduced Grosso and Del Piero meant the Dutch were asked many more questions, and then just when it seemed that a goal was inevitable, it came. At the other end.

Andrea Pirlo, who looked to have too much on his shoulders in the creativity department without Totti and was largely ineffective, enjoyed his best moment of the night, striking a free-kick to perfection that Van Der Sar miraculously saved, allowing the opportunistic Gio Van Bronckhorst to launch another lightning counter-attack which he eventually had to finish off himself after Kuyt had made a pig’s ear of the initial chance. Italy’s complete disorganisation in the face of these breakaways highlighted the gaping hole left at the heart of their defence by the absence of Fabio Cannavaro, I doubt Italy have ever looked so vulnerable in a major tournament. Marco Materazzi looked like a boy who had been left to cross the road by himself for the first time, having spent years holding his mother’s hand.

A night that went perfectly to plan for the men in Orange, but a display that hardly makes them “favourites for the tournament”, as ITV would have us believe. I am fairly certain that the bookmakers will not share their view that Holland are suddenly more likely to lift the trophy than the Germans. They also have plenty of time to revert to type and start cheating.

If Holland defied my expectations of them by producing some decent football, France showed them the way in meeting theirs with a bullet. The BBC predictably gave Les Bleus all the hype you could wish for. Ninety minutes later, and Alan Hansen is uttering the phrase “worst game I have ever seen in my life”. Which is inaccurate, as I happen to know he watched the 2007 FA Cup Final, but the sentiment was appreciated. The French delivered a horror no-show that even I didn’t think they were capable of. I expected France to be awful, but they were nowhere near that good. France failed to win more corners than a team rooted to their own 18-yard box. Despite having a multi-million pound, multi-trophy-winning strike force of Henry and Anelka, the French registered three shots on target, at least one of which was by Jeremy Toulalan, who has scored one goal in his entire career. The standard of French passing, final-ball, and finishing set a new low for their wretched spell under madman Raymond Domenech, and an acute sense of injustice must have been felt in Scotland after such a lamentable display from a team they beat twice in qualifying.

It’s a shame for everyone that the Scots didn’t make it, as the excitement factor would have been increased 100 times had the Tartan army brought their brand of tension-wracked majestic failure to the party. Instead we have to suffer a bunch of Frenchmen rather too keen on their national stereotype for being laid-back. Someone ought to tell them that it’s supposed to mean relaxed, not dormant.

It’s a shame too that Romania had clearly listened to so much press, they were expecting a French barrage. The obvious mistake they made was in not reading this blog, if they had they would have known they were perfectly safe to launch the odd attack here and there. Shame on them. Seriously, if Romania go out they will kick themselves for not having a bit more courage in this game, there’s no reason at all they couldn’t have beaten France comfortably.

Unlike our over-excited friends at ITV, I shall refrain from making judgements about any teams based on one game. I made two bold predictions about this group, and as yet it’s far too early to admit I was wrong about Holland, just as it’s too early to claim I was right about France. The Holland v Italy match didn’t look to be going anywhere until the Dutch were gifted a lead, so it will be interesting to see how they get on in other games, assuming that the officals won’t give them a goal start every time. We have yet to see their reaction to going a goal down, which could be an issue for the Dutch, as it usually involves kicking, spitting, sulking, and general nastiness.

They don’t have to worry themselves about it just yet though, their next game is against the French.