Spain ’s seductive siesta salivates.
By: Lasana Liburd (T&T Express).
Ten minutes into the 2010 World Cup semifinal between European giants Spain and Germany , the British television commentator declared “nothing of relevance so far…”
And there I was—spellbound by the rhythm of the game.
The commentator’s mood did not change in the first half.
I thought the distaste for football that did not involve breakneck pace and smashing bodies was a cliché. Perhaps not.
For me, though, this was the game I fell in love with in the late 1980’s when artists like Zico, Michel Platini, Michael Laudrup, Marco Van Basten, Socrates, Enzo Francescoli, Carlos Valderamma, Roberto Baggio, Paul Gascoigne and the incomparable Diego Maradona wore shorts and created vivid, brilliant pictures with a football.
It was an era when Dutch legend Johan Cryuff could chastise his players for running too much without inviting ridicule.
“Football is a game you play with your brains,” said Cryuff, a champion as a player and coach. “You have to be in the right place at the right moment, not too early, not too late.”
These days, advances in diet, medicine and physical conditioning tip the scale in favour of natural athletes and football is often a game of whack and move like tennis.
And then, right after the slog fest of Uruguay versus Netherlands and Germany ’s free scoring triumphs over Argentina and England , along comes a Spanish team moving with all the intensity of a civil servant after his lunch break on a Friday afternoon.
“It is a game that can burst into life at anytime,” he said, as though imploring viewers not to switch to Channel Three’s cooking program.
But the game was humming. Spain were not stumbling through a siesta.
Rather Spanish manager Vicente Del Bosque deduced that the young German outfit fancied the all-action, kamikaze stuff. And so, he made it a game of patience. It was like a cricket test match started, unannounced, in the middle of a 20/ 20 tournament.
Xavi and Andres Iniesta toyed with the ball while the anxious Germans sat back and waited for their turn to play. For all the benefits of the counter-attacking game favoured by the likes of twice European champion, Jose Mourinho, it is a retro-active and therefore—at least in the opinion of a writer with no coaching badges—an inferior style. It relies on a team pushing without abandon into opposition territory, being loose with possession and then tardy in setting up a defensive trap while also leaving gaps to be exploited.
The Spanish squad moved together in a compact unit and pressed high up the pitch as a safeguard against the long, majestic diagonal balls from midfield that tore Argentina and England to shreds. But that was only Plan B. The pro-active Spaniards focused more on exploiting German weaknesses than becoming too preoccupied with the unquestionable ability of their opponents.
If every game were a slugfest, would such high scoring, reckless clashes not become boring and predictable?
Spain had other ideas about their semi-final assignment. Del Bosque set up a squad capable of the intricate “tikki takki” passing game espoused by Spanish champions, Barcelona . They pushed Germany back and waited. Like a parent pretending to be reading the paper while eyeing a child becoming more engrossed in a game with running water.
When Germany least expected it… Slap!
Carlos Puyol soared through the air to power home his first World Cup goal after eight years of trying. It was his third international goal after 89 appearances. German goalkeeper Manuel Neuer, quite understandably and for more reasons than one, never saw it coming.
The televised highlights would show Puyol’s superb headed effort and a few near misses. But it will not come close to telling the tale. In the same way that brief replays of tumbling wickets can never capture the essence of an epic test match. Or the image of a sword being thrust into a bull’s shoulder says nothing about the drama of a bullfight.
After an unsightly identity crisis following their opening defeat to Switzerland , Spain seem to have regained their composure and belief at a crucial juncture. There were seven Barcelona employees in their starting line-up to face Germany and there is unlikely to be change for Sunday’s final against the Netherlands .
The Dutch are muscular in central midfield where the bruising pair of Nigel De Jong and Mark Van Bommel are surely two of the harshest art critics in the game today. Neither will be as easily seduced by a feigned Spanish siesta as the green Germans.
There were signs of unease too by Spanish captain and goalkeeper Iker Casillas that might encourage Dutch fans.
If the captain is meant to embody the ethos of his squad, then it must be incongruous that Spain are led by a goalkeeper who is always anxious to punch and hack rather than hold the football.
But let us not get ahead of ourselves with thoughts of Sunday’s show.
Instead, kudos to a cerebral contest that was more “Sixth Sense” than “Die Hard”. Some patrons would scoff at one movie and praise the other. A true connoisseur can appreciate both.