So to start out: preparation is everything and in order to commemorate the event we had to have the correct snacks as pictured left. Dried bananas coated with honey for Bafana Bafana and Jalapeno peppers for Mexico. Ok, not sure how close the thing with the dried banabas is, but it was the closest thing to South African snack food we could get a hold of in Germany. The jalapenos went into a guacamole later that evening, so that worked out fine.Next came the issue of who to support. I have an inherent fondness for the African teams. Ever since 1994, the year where I first started to follow the World Cup seriously, I have always waited for the African teams to truly break out. Too long has the tournament been dominated by European and South American teams. Looking back at the first, second and third placing teams of the past tournaments, the amount of times Brazil and Germany have appeared in those lists, supported by another team from those two regions...well, it's depressing. And this is a Germany fan saying this! It's time for Asia, Africa and the Middle East to step up and make the tournament a true World Cup. No easy games! No continent that is considered to be footballs collection of shortbus occupants! I thought were had it in 2002, when South Korea and Turkey made it to the top four, but since then it has been same old-same old. I am hoping that this will be the year the others break through.
The point I was trying to make before I got side tracked was that I was slightly torn as to which side to support. While i desperately want to see Bafana Bafana succeed on their home turf, I have history with Mexico. I have lived there and have friends there. I love Mexican food, culture and alcohol. Luckily my girl friend made it easy on me.
She had bought herself a Mexico flag in town earlier that day. Her ties to Mexico were considerably stronger than mine. So now that the loyalties had been evenly divided we settled down to watch the game on the wide screen Panasonic! As you may remember from my short blurb, the first half of the game was not all that thrilling. The second half proved to be much more enticing, when Tschabalala (who has already won my Best Name of the Tournament Award, in the first game no less!) sent a missile of a shot past Mexico keeper Pérez to suddenly wake up the 90,000 fans packed into Soccer City. In response, Javier Aguirre, Mexicos coach or as I like to call him, Mexican Gordan Gecko, sent in two replacements: Andres Guadardo and the by now ancient Cuauhtemoc Blanco, whose inclusion in the squad is a mystery to me. Mexico managed to score the equalizer in the 79th minute, with a nice cross from Guadardo that finds Marquez who then just popped it in. After that it was mostly just a bit of back and forth, with a couple of chances but no real danger coming from either side. An argument could be made regarding some of the (numerous) offside calls, but then, this is the World Cup and it wouldn't be a proper tournament if the the referees impartiality and the linemens quality of vision weren't called into question 0.0001 seconds after kick off.After two hours of cooking and preparing for the next game my girl friend, my parents and myself sat down for the second game: France-Uruguay! Le Bleu vs. the country that dominated the World Cup in it's early days. Surely this would be a rousing match.
Holy God what a fucking mess that was!
It is public knowledge that Le Bleu have been riven with internal strife due to coach Domenech's decision to pass over Thierry Henry as captain, most likely to the highly controversial France -Ireland qualifying match (a hand ball in front of the legendarily explosive Giovanni Trappatoni backed by thousands of braying Irishmen, that man has BALLS!). The rumblings have even spread to the government, with Rama Yade, the French Secretary of States for Sports, commentating negatively on the opulence of the players accommodations. This lead None other than Caricature in Chief Nicolas Sarkozy to publicly announce that the government supports the team. In all, no one is happy in what is now officially known as Le Bitch-fête 2010, and it REALLY showed in their playing style. Le Bleu were completely uncoordinated and had the team of cohesion of a mob of ill-tempered sharks. Their only true attempt of note was Ribery's sweet cross at the 6th minute which Govou bungled like a club footed polio victim past the far post. After that the packed it in. Nothing remotely worth noting.
Uruguay, much like the South Africans before them, seemed to have the wide eyed naivety about them like 18 year olds at a liqueur store. They were the last team to qualify for the tournament and their inexperience showed. While a more experienced crew would have picked the french apart like warm bread for at least 3 goals, the Uruguay squad seemed to be confused as to what was going on and couldn't seem to decide how to proceed. Their passing was crisp and they had most of the energy in the match, setting up several potentially exciting counter attacks but always floundering before the reached the penalty box. It was a thoroughly depressing game, and the second half just got worse. 10 minutes seemed an eternity, around the 70 min mark, both my gf and I were on our computers, chatting with friends as the game ran on in the background. The end result was as predictable and it was depressing: 0-0, though I consider this a loss for France. In fact, I will actually brave the waters of the occult and make a prediction: unless Le Bleu can some figure out a way to stop hating each other, this entire tourney is a loss for them. Group A stands at 1 point a piece, but we all know who is at the bottom.
Today I shall be watching the US-England Game from one of the many Irish pubs in Frankfurt. Be on the look out for pictures or APB's.
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