Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Brow Branding by Infamy


The World Cup ended with a shoot out as the Italian team was crowned the best in the world for the next four years. I never played soccer, but have grown to enjoy the sport, especially the end of year tournaments and, of course, the World Cup.

It was quite an event and the German hosts put on a great event. There were no clashes of fans, or complaints of tourist problems or terrorist danger. The latter may be because terrorists, like the majority of the world, were glued to their sets watching the event unfold.

Americans, as usual, greeted the show with a massive yawn. There are many reasons given for the disinterest in the States for this game, especially when played at such a high level. Some say it’s the low scoring. Perhaps, but 1-0 baseball games are called “pitchers duels”: A three field goal football game is a “defensive struggle”. So, Americans are used to low scoring games. The low scoring is because the rules make scoring difficult, so even the least talented team can compete with the more talented ones.

Maybe it’s the fact that, aside from the goalie and the sideline throw in, the game is played with the feet. Hands used are a penalty. But a fan of any sport can appreciate talent and good play when he sees it. And what these players can do with the ball on their feet and legs and body is really amazing.

Perhaps it’s the same things that bother me that are the reason. My problem with soccer is that bad acting is rewarded and good hard play is penalized. Offensive players who get themselves in trouble fall down and get a reprieve. Defensive players who play hard are continually whistled and carded. Look, I’m not saying that illegal contact and dangerous tackles should be allowed. But guys who flop, writhe in pain and then magically arise after getting some water sponged on the “wound” should be ignored. Players know when players are hurt. Actors should be ignored.

And offensive players who try to squeeze through two defenders, have the ball stripped and end up on their keisters should stop whining and looking for the foul. What did you expect to happen when you are outnumbered? That these two guys would part like the Red Sea and let you into the Promised Land? Not on my team. Their job is to stop you. As if you didn’t know.

And then the head butt.

I think I have got the story straight. A veteran professional player who has played on the big stage for twenty years, was an MVP in the World Cup and was considered one of the best ever to play gets upset because an opponent called his mom a bad word? A guy who had grown up on the mean streets of Marseilles was so incensed by slurs that he has probably heard all his life much less than heard on professional playing fields that he had to head butt a guy in front of about a billion people watching on TV? Hey, kids! Don’t try this at home. These are professional players.

That it was to be the last game of his professional career was the other shocker. Rather than go out with the cheers of the thousands of fans in the stands, with the TV commentators regurgitating the superlatives of a stellar career, he gets a red card, must leave the pitch most ignobly, cannot help his team in the shoot out (where he is considered one of the best penalty kick scorers) and becomes an internet joke is a pity.

I don’t think the insensitive words of a player were the cause of this silly outburst. I think it was frustration. After playing for over a 100 minutes in the heat and humidity of the packed Berlin stadium, Zindane received a pass which he headed towards the goal. A desperate Italian goal keeper stretches his body and ticks away the apparent winning goal with his fingertips. A great attempt by Zindane is turned away at the last possible moment by a better save of the goalie. Now that, my friends, would be the way to close the books on a stellar career. To score the winning goal in the final game you were to play. The realization of the storybook ending that wasn’t to be is what did it.

Whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad.
-Euripides

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