Goal Of The Tournament – And The First Shall Be The Best

Tshabalala’s great opening strike was outstanding, not simply for the sheer elan with which he smashed it into the Mexican’s net as for the promise it offered. Here was a goal formed on the playing fields of the best fast-flowing counterattacking sides. A defence splitting pass placed perfectly into the path of a sprinting Tshabalala, who just slammed it into the net. It raised hopes that this World Cup would be about skill and daring and excitement, that someone in Africa would rise to challenge the monoliths (if you can have monoliths that is) of European and South American dominance, that this World Cup would be about the joy of football rather than the stunning negativity, insecurity and fear of most tournament football. Sadly after this moment it was pretty much all downhill.

Not Goal Of The Tournament – Somewhat Spoilt For Choice

We could have Ghana’s non-goal that was blocked on the line by the hand of Dirty Suarez in the Quarter Finals. Or the American’s goal that never was against Slovenia. Or, it might seem, the Italian’s last minute almost-equaliser against the mighty Slovakia. Certainly the FIFA linesmen, who were by and large excellent, seemed to have mislaid their goalmouth specs on something of a regular basis. However, Not Goal Of The Tournament has to go to Frank Lampard’s chip and blip off the crossbar against Germany. Just like an overly imaginative fisherman’s tale, the gap between the line and the ball will only ever get bigger in the telling. However, the failure to give the goal will have two major positive effects on the game, it’s so blatantly a goal that FIFA will have to investigate the use of goalline technology and it won’t be allowed to cover up the myriad of failings of the useless Engerland side.

Best Chant Of The Tournament

Not a lot of choice here as the vuvuzela managed to successfully bloat out pretty much all attempts at chanting. However, the continued booing of Dirty Suarez during the Semi-Final against Holland was exceedingly gratifying. But the winner is the England fans’ reaction to the disallowed (non-allowed?) Not Goal, which was both the loudest and the best chant of the tournament. A World Cup half a world away, broadcast to billions, and the crowd is all singing ‘The Referee’s a wanker’ at the tops of their voices. That was a moment for Sepp Blatter to have nightmares about.

Best Sporting Moment Of The Tournament

It lasted the best part of three days and it wasn’t even in the same continent. John Isner and Nicolas Mahut’s amazing fifth set at Wimbledon was everything that sport should be about, excellence of technique, power of will, composure, discipline, psychological gamesmanship, physical agility and fitness, skill, daring and channelled aggression. They played more minutes in that one set than most players played in the entire World Cup. They didn’t blink, whine, pout, dive, get scared. And it was just a first round match.

Best Least Sporting Moment Of The Tournament

Hands up Dirty Suarez. Sure we might all have done it, it might even have been ‘instinctive’ rather than blatantly deliberate, but you know what, I hope we wouldn’t have. And, yes, almost no one would be bothered if only Gyan had scored the resulting penalty and Ghana had gone through. But this was another example of the extreme cynicism that dominated the World Cup, a moment where the punishment quite patently didn’t match the crime. You have to think that a penalty goal and a yellow card would be a better punishment for this sort of thing. Sure less drama, but quite patently a fairer result.

Best Team Of The Tournament

Most goals, top goalscorer, best young player, most exciting team, and not one, not two, but three four goal thrashings on their way to a Semi-Final loss to eventual winners Spain sees Germany win Best Team. Oh how we laughed when they gave Oztralia the kicking they so richly deserved, oh how we didn’t (well we did but in a crazy schadenfreude sort of way) when they mercilessly dished out the same drubbing to Engerland. And oh how we laughed again when they mullered the crazy Argies. And we can blame it all on divetastic ex-Spur Jurgen Klinsmann. Unlike the useless Engerland, Germany showed all the benefits of ambition, long-term planning, attacking philosophy and preparation. And, unlike pretty much every other team here, Germany came here to win the World Cup rather than simply gain it by not losing. The only team whose matches I’ve bothered to keep.

Least Best Team Of The Tournament

Hmmmm. Where to start? The pitiful inadequacy of both Cameroon and North Korea, neither of whom scored a point. The pulse-draining soul-sapping mediocrity of all those sides hopped up on fear and inadequacy that aimed to stifle the opposition and kill the game. The European giants who didn’t perform, like Italy and France. No, there’s really only one Least Best Team, the now utterly unmighty Engerland. The oldest squad in the tournament should have been chock full of big game, big tournament experience if nothing else, but instead seemed to have cornered the market on fear, insecurity and doubt. They also seemed to have left their footballing basics somewhere else as simple acts like passing seemed utterly beyond them. Apparently riven by strife, inadequacy, boredom and sexual jealousy, they were so bad that their flaccid performances in World Cup 2006 seemed like memories of the Elysian Fields.  If what we do in life does, indeed, echo through eternity, then these guys are going to be hearing the boos that accompanied them off the pitch against Algeria for a very long time.

Not The Festival of Losers We Anticipated

These things can go either way. On the one hand you’ve got two teams who’ve lost the semi-finals and really probably feel like they should have taken a plane out of town three or four days beforehand. On the other, you’ve got two teams who know that nothing matters other than battering the shit out of whoever they’re playing against. Fortunately for us we got the second.

Both the Germans and the dirty cheating Urugs (for that is their name) came to win, which is more than can be said for most teams in most matches during this competition. The Germans welcomed back Muller, who must be a certainty for the Best Young Player of the tournament, while DC Urug foisted Dirty Suarez on us, who must be a certainty for Cheat of the Championship. Both had an effect on the game, albeit in different ways. Muller showed how indispensable he is to Germany, scoring the first goal and constantly being a thorn in the Uruguayans’ side; Dirty Suarez, on the other hand, contrived to miss every single opportunity he had. And he’s got the sort of misery face that makes you indescribably glad every time he fucks things up.

The Germans deserved to win, despite Uruguay putting on pressure and going ahead, if only for the positive attacking philosophy they’ve brought to the tournament. Uruguay have built on a great defence and Diego Forlorn, who has been good, but they’ve been the least interesting of all four semi-finalists.

63 Down 1 To Go, 2 Teams Remaining

Take That Dirty Suarez

There was something almost ironic about the second Dutch goal being that Van Persil, who still hasn’t broken his duck, was comfortably offside and undoubtedly interfering with play. Oh how we laughed as the Urugs (the dirty cheating, double dealing, African victory stealing bastards) attempted to protest, all to no avail. Oh how we chortled as even the Dutch seemed overwhelmed with the ref’s decision. And once they were ahead, they made sure with a Robben header. I mean a Robben header. Here’s a man who is so worried about his hairline that he barely strokes his head, let alone heads a ball. The Urugs must have thought that the sky had fallen in on their heads. Revenge is sweet.

Will The Real Dutch PLEASE Start Showing Up

How long are we going to have to wait until the Dutch actually play some interesting football. I mean this can’t go on. They are in the World Cup Final and they’ve played about 15 minutes of good football in total. They’re still playing with Van der Vaart and Van Bommel, two of the most wretched players ever to pull on an orange jersey, leaving the lively Elia on the bench until the game is well and truly over. They’ve got Van Persil, who still hasn’t scored, who has barely had a shot and who plays like a rather tall Jermaine Defoe. And yet, they won all their qualifying group matches. They’ve won all their matches so far. And THEY’RE PLAYING SHIT FOOTBALL. Mind you it’s an interesting kind of shit football, it’s neither obsessed with the Mourinho Discipline, nor playing the great game of flowing, attacking football. It’s a whole new kind of shit. Still shit nonetheless.

Meanwhile Back In The Batcave of Loew Leisurewear

Super friend of the Palace, The Other Charles, spotted this fantastic parody of German manager Jochim Loew and his pet monkey Gunther. Well worth the viewing while we wait for the long-hoped for annihilation of Spain.

61 Down 3 To Go, 3 Teams Remaining