Day 30, World Cup 2010: “I don’t enjoy watching Holland. It’s not exciting”

Running right alongside Brazil 2014, this is my day-by-day story of how Spain won the last World Cup. You can catch up on previous posts.

These stories are from Spain: The Inside Story of La Roja’s Historic Treble, by Graham Hunter

Unbeknownst to me, sparks are flying at Soccer City. Shakira arrives for a sound test and run-through of her key role tomorrow in the closing ceremony. Her song Waka-Waka has been anthemic – everywhere during these weeks. Recording a video for it in Barcelona before the World Cup, she met Gerard Piqué. He has a big day tomorrow, too.

It is being called Cruyff’s final. His emergence helped make the Holland team coached by Rinus Michels successful and seductive in the 1970s. His arrival and teachings at FC Barcelona changed the entire mentality of that club. The system he installed there produced Valdés, Xavi, Iniesta and Puyol then later Busquets, Pedro and Piqué.

Cruyff was one of the few predicting Spain would win the tournament immediately after the Switzerland defeat and before the final he says: “The last few World Cup winners have been sad to watch. I have had to watch games with Brazil, France, Italy and England recently where nothing happened. Against Germany, Spain just went out to enjoy themselves – in a World Cup semi-final.

“I’m going to watch this game with a few Spanish friends and take the view that no matter which team wins, I can’t lose.”

It is a bit startling to read Ronald de Boer, another Camp Nou alumnus and the brother of Holland’s assistant coach, admitting: “Before the competition I thought Holland were spectacular. Now I don’t enjoy watching them play at all. It’s not exciting.”

Day 29, World Cup 2010: “Well, it’s … an octopus!”

Running right alongside Brazil 2014, this is my day-by-day story of how Spain won the last World Cup. You can catch up on previous posts.

These stories are from Spain: The Inside Story of La Roja’s Historic Treble, by Graham Hunter

Two days until the World Cup final

Morten Olsen, the Denmark coach, says something prophetic. Everyone else, Spain’s players included, were talking about the debt both footballing nations, Holland and Spain, owe to Johan Cruyff and the football philosophy of Rinus Michels. Excitement is growing about an open final. Olsen, who coached Ajax to the Dutch league and cup double, begs to differ: “If Brazil had beaten Holland, instead of the other way round, Holland would have been slaughtered at home. Not simply for going out but because of the disastrous way they are playing.”

He is on to something.

At today’s press conference there is a lady from a Mexican television channel who is a real personality. Her questions are always bubbly, sometimes funny and this day she is going for the big one.

“Carlos, Pulpo Paul [Paul the Octopus, the all-knowing aquatic analyst] has had a brilliant World Cup, calling the winner of every match it has predicted. Now Pulpo Paul says Spain are going to win the final. What do you think?”

Marchena pauses, squints at the journalist and turns to one side. There is a gentle creaking as the multinational audience gently lean forward for what is clearly going to be a significant answer of depth and consideration.

Marchena leans into the microphone and says, deadpan: “Well, it’s … an octopus!” His audience corpses.

By this point, everyone who has secured an interview on the final open media day before press conferences at Soccer City on Saturday and the final itself on Sunday is keeping quiet about it. Everyone who does not have an interview is prepared to steal from friends and colleagues to get one, and worse besides.

Gerard Piqué saves my bacon, agreeing on the quiet to nip into our studio, to talk Barcelona, Cruyff, Holland, Total Football, Spain and the World Cup final.

He finishes our interview with the words: ‘Perfecto, Graham?’

It is a sign. Everything is going to be perfecto.

Louis, Louis

One of the things Tuesday night’s massacre denied us was a rematch of November 28, 1995. That was when, in Tokyo, the Ajax of Louis Van Gaal, Danny Blind and Patrick Kluivert beat Felipe Scolari’s Gremio on penalties to win the Intercontinental Cup.

It was – who’d have guessed it? – a grim affair during which Scolari’s mob sustained five bookings and a red card. Blind, currently Van Gaal’s assistant, scored the winning penalty for the Dutch. This was a rare highlight for Van Gaal, who has a choppy record, both playing and managing, against Brazilian and Argentinian opposition. And I believe that in football the present owes much more to the past than most people care to consider.

Between August 1999 and May 2000 Valencia’s Argentinian striker Claudio ‘Piojo’ Lopéz scored the goals which cost Van Gaal’s Barcelona first a Spanish Supercup then a place in the Champions League final against Real Madrid in Paris. ‘Piojo’ means ‘louse’, singular of lice. Reports that Van Gaal made up his nickname are not confirmed.

In May 2000, the Dutchman was sacked after Deportivo pipped his Barcelona to the Spanish title – a Depo in which their Brazilian/Argentinian contingent of Djalminha, Flavio Conceição, Donato, Mauro Silva, Gabi Schürrer, Lionel Scaloni and Oscar Flores played 187 games, scoring 25 goals.

All that season I’d watched him struggle ferociously with Rivaldo, then World Player of the Year. Van Gaal demanded he play on the wing. Rivaldo occupied that space and persistently passed the ball backwards to Winston Bogarde. The Brazilian was there in body, but not spirit. On quitting, Van Gaal complained: “I had to struggle every day to convince everyone at Barcelona, and especially the players.”

When he was again sacked by Barça in January 2003, it was after a 4-2 home defeat to the Valencia of Roberto Ayala, Mauricio Pellegrino, Pablo Aimar and Fabio Aurelio, and then a 2-0 loss at Celta. The last goal ever scored against Van Gaal as Barça manager was by Sylvinho. A Brazilian left-back.

His third Champions League final, against the Inter Milan of his former protege José Mourinho, in 2010, ended with defeat for Van Gaal’s Bayern Munich thanks to goals from the Argentinian Diego Milito.

A central factor in his sacking, and ascension to his current job, was March 2011’s Champions League 3-2 home defeat – and elimination – by an Inter fuelled by Maicon, Esteban Cambiasso, Julio César, Coutinho, Lucio and Thiago Motta, managed by Leonardo. A smorgasbord of South Americans.

Now it’s Messi and his merry band. Perhaps I’m wrong but I think Van Gaal is one of the few men on the planet who wouldn’t buy Leo Messi if he were available. He wants 11 well-oiled cogs in a Van-Gaal-designed machine. Sorry United fans.

You can read in this piece I wrote for Paddy Power in May before he was appointed what that might mean for Wayne Rooney and United’s emerging academy graduates.  You can find out tonight if he can improve his record against the giants of South American football.

All together now…

Louis Louis, oh no

Sayin’ we gotta go, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah

Said Louis, Louis, oh baby

Said we gotta go

Okay, let’s give it to ’em, right now!

photo (3)

*The author would like to note that while one name has been changed to protect the innocent, no Kingsmen were hurt in the making of this blog

Day 28, World Cup 2010: “I saw Puyi and I thought… this one’s a goal”

Running right alongside Brazil 2014, this is my day-by-day story of how Spain won the last World Cup. You can catch up on previous posts.

These stories are from Spain: The Inside Story of La Roja’s Historic Treble, by Graham Hunter

Three Days Until the World Cup final

The press conference is packed, there are about 20 languages being spoken and Carles Puyol is holding court. No, he will not confirm whether he is going to retire after the competition. Yes, it was his idea to come up with that rehearsed move at the corner, when his header from Xavi’s delivery put Spain into the final.

He is not enjoying the focus being solely on him, at least until his semi-naked post-match appearance in front of the Queen is mentioned. “It’s the first time she’s been in our dressing room and if I wasn’t only wearing a towel, I’d have gone down on one knee.”

Xavi is as confident with words as he is with the ball. “I swear, I knew it was a goal from the moment my boot made connection with the ball from the corner. Somehow I just knew. I looked up, saw Puyi and thought, ‘don’t miss this one, this one’s a goal’.”

Night time is a hoot. Now, instead of 100 people there are 2000 at training. The locals, wrapped up in blankets, mufflers, gloves, ski jackets and balaclavas, are joined by media crews from Japan, China, USA, Australia, France, England, Mexico, Argentina, Germany and South Africa.

Some of the players have a little game of crossbar challenge from the halfway line and Víctor Valdés wins out of sight, hitting four times.
 

 

Zero sympathy for Scolari and Brazil’s thuggish tactics

Because Brazil will wake up and remember it ‘didn’t want this World Cup’, not ahead of schools, hospitals, roads and anti-corruption purges; because there will be riots again, I’m anticipating a sudden wave of sympathy for those involved in the 7-1 humiliation against Germany.

Not me. Brazil treated me well enough when I was still at the World Cup, I respect their contribution to the gradual development of the Champions League (which is huge in terms of skill and attacking philosophy) – I respect the passion of their fans. I’d love to see an exciting, intelligent, adept Pentacampeon again.

But this group of players has been led by what I’d consider to be a footballing bruiser – a win at all costs Visigoth or Vandal.

Felipe Scolari won last summer’s Confederations Cup with a policy of fire and brimstone. Sleight of hand wasn’t sufficient for him to disguise either his team’s or, more importantly his own, deficiencies.

In that Confederations Cup final, his side sought out Andrés Iniesta and bundled him over, kicked him, tripped him. The libertarian approach of the Dutch referee that day was disgraceful. Nearly 30 Brazilian fouls and not a yellow card.

bild

‘Speechless’ reads the headline in German newspaper ‘Bild’

Brazil won via power, pace, conviction and athleticism. Nothing wrong with those elements. Nor could anyone deny that they deserved to win. But their deficiencies were there to see – just as they had been against Japan and Uruguay.

Scolari had time to re-think, time to watch the development of Miranda and Filipe Luis at Atletico or Coutinho at Liverpool. Time to develop his philosophy. He chose not to.

Instead, he opted for hurricane-speed, knuckle-duster football – very little adoration of the ball or possession and fouling as an integrated tactic.

The BBC’s Brazilian correspondent Tim Vickery reports Scolari’s view that:  “Well played, normal football in certain situations obliges a player to commit a foul – a push, some shirt pulling, use of the shoulder, fouls that don’t give the opponents the chance to organise an attack.”

That couldn’t have been more obvious over the last two tournaments. In fact, in Tolkien terms it became ‘his precious’. It devoured him.

Brazil, across the Confeds and the World Cup, have had 20 players booked in 11 games. During their matches against Chile and Columbia there were well over 100 fouls, the bulk committed by Brazil who, in particular, tried to muscle James Rodríguez out of the match.

Don’t mention Zuniga and Neymar. That was outright thuggery. The World Cup lost a star but while the Colombian did wrong it in no way justifies the Brazilian thuggery. The LA Times called it ‘Brazil’s goonish tactics…’

If you don’t see a correlation that against Germany, Brazil committed only 11 fouls and suddenly weren’t competitive, didn’t know what to do, then I do.

While the majority of other nations showed a clear-cut philosophy, based on quick, intelligent, athletic passing movements – the beauty of terrific technique at high speed – Scolari was exposed as a man who didn’t know any other way to utilise a relatively talented squad but to rely on height, power, muscularity and tactical fouling.

His blessing, just as he was utterly blessed with some world-class talents in 2002, was that Neymar is a self-created genius on the ball. Not Scolari’s work – just a footballing gem.

The beauty of what happened in the semi-final was that a long term, aesthetically pleasing, highly developed, intelligent and technical style utterly exposed the bluff and bluster of the Brazilian idea.

What we saw was the product of years of work by Joachim Löw and, initially, Jurgen Klinsmann plus the youth developers of the Bundesliga promoting the best of the Spanish school blended with the best of the German footballing DNA.

Scolari’s blue-collar belligerence was made to look slow, antiquated and dull by German wit, intelligence and speed of reaction.

Scolari’s press officer has been suspended for three games for striking Chile’s Mauricio Pinilla at half-time in the quarter-final and, despite all the favourable refereeing his team received, Scolari has been briefing ‘elite’ (ie sycophantic) Brazilian press about how FIFA’s ‘against’ Brazil and wanted them not to win.

Football thuggishness, managerial lowest common denominator. Grubby, denigratory to Brazil’s mighty history – detrimental to the game in general.

Perhaps this humiliation will nudge Brazil back to what they are capable of – leading the football way instead of dragging it back to a medieval past.

“We aren’t lagging behind tactically,” Scolari claimed post match – saying that Germany had only five chances and scored all five in the first half, that Brazil had been better up until the first goal.

I beg to differ. Football won just as much as Germany did on Tuesday night.

Playground bullies, whenever they get punched back, are usually shown up for what they are. Deutschland Deutschland über Scolari, I say.

Graham. 09.07.14