Whose World? What Cup? (Day 18a)

Tonight is supposed to be the night on which Brazil qualify for the quarter-finals of the 2010 World Cup. However, Chile will be doing their best to carve out a slice of their own history by stopping them. In theory, this will be a much more entertaining clash than the crystallized boredom I sat through just a few hours ago. I hope.

And if I am still awake after this, I will tell you my dream about backpacking, black helicopters, and an odd sense of dislocation.

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At half-time, I've watched Brazil be that much better than Chile. Watching Gilberto Silva's long-range but unsuccessful strike in the 9th minute, I realise that Arsenal retirees might be better than Chelsea and Liverpool captains. Juan and Luis Fabiano have, of course, scored for Brazil, making it 2-0.

But random thoughts percolate through my mind; did Fabio Capello think that Glen Johnson would be the equivalent of Maicon? Did he think Ashley Cole would be able to take Maicon on? And that is just (literally) one side that I'm looking at.

Whose World? What Cup? (Day 15a)

At half-time, Spain are leading Chile by two goals to nil. I can't decide what's up with the Mexican referee. He seems fairly biased. By which I mean, he is biased in direct proportion to the misdemeanour level of each team. There is no doubt Chile are more violent and less good at the well-timed challenge, so the referee has been overpenalizing them accordingly — one man sent off and something like 16 free kicks against, but only two other yellow cards besides those that got the unfortunate Estrada to take the long walk.

Play has been mixed. Spain were noticeably bad at first, until David Villa's lovely long volley scored. Then they got better. Torres is still a passenger, but one who is drawing markers away. Chile look good, but they seem over-enthusiastic, leading to shots too high or long, and tackles too late or badly aimed.

Meanwhile, the other match is just that. Both teams seem only to be making up the numbers. The Swiss have seemed functional but not more; the Hondurans are... more interested in preventing the Swiss from advancing than playing for a win. Maybe it's all a Spanish conspiracy.

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And so, both Chile and Spain are through. Chile pulled one back. I have to say that Cesc Fabregas looks like an incipient midfield general for his country. He is much better at the one-touch stuff and setting his colleagues up for opportunities than the other talent on display. He is also very hard to keep track of — one doesn't know if he's tracked back as a defensive midfielder, surged forward into the hole, decided to pretend he's a winger, whatever.

There we have it. Brazil play Chile and Portugal play Spain. How very tasty...

Whose World? What Cup? (Day 15)

This will be an interesting evening. The Hermit Kingdom, boasting a national anthem called The Patriotic Song, will face Côte d'Ivoire, whose national anthem is the Song of Abidjan (which used to be their capital, the 4th largest Francophone city on earth, with a population of about 5,000,000). Only the Ivorians can qualify, but they'll need to beat the tough Patriotic Hermits by a large margin.

Meanwhile, I will probably spend a lot more time watching the other match, between Brazil and their former colonial masters, Portugal. The Portuguese have fond memories of Brazil and all the loot they got out of that great nation. The Brazilians pretend not to have any memories at all. I'll just note here that my not-so-distant ancestors came from the former Portuguese colony of Melaka.

Later on, Spain meet Chile (a similar story to Portugal-Brazil, historically), while Switzerland meet the Honduras. Basically, both Spain and Switzerland need to win. It is all too possible that Chile and Switzerland will qualify and Spain will be a third great European footballing nation to get dumped (unless the really unlikely has already happened and Portugal were dumped first).

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Well, even though Côte d'Ivoire is leading North Korea 2-0 at half-time, the 0-0 deadlock of Portugal (in red) and Brazil (in yellow) looks like letting both through to the next round. Unless we see more red and yellow. It's a vicious game. Or at the very least, full of ill-judged behaviour.

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Seven yellow cards and 24 fouls later... we're still waiting for a goal at Brazil-Portugal. It has just struck me that there's a very high chance of us seeing two matches between a Portuguese-speaking (Portaphone?) team and a Spanish-speaking one in the next round. The languages are basically regional dialects, but the Castilian hegemony won out (unless you ask a Catalan).

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Final scores 3-0 to the Ivorians and a deathly 0-0 at the 'Match of the Day'. Ha! So Brazil top the group, Portugal are second; it is likely we'll see Portugal play Chile and Brazil play Spain. If it's Brazil v Switzerland instead, I shall laugh my socks off.

Whose World? What Cup? (Day 11a)

I've watched a match in which a card-happy ref gave out something like eight yellow cards and a red. The red went to the Swiss, and they ended the game down one man and down one goal against Chile. It was hard to tell who was redder or crosser.

Switzerland after the sending-off had this amazing 4-4-1-0 that appeared to be 6-3-0-0 at times. I swear I saw a flat back six. But somehow, everyone fell asleep! First time I'd seen Switzerland bore themselves to sleep, and then try to wake up. It didn't work.

The next match is between Spain and the Honduras. Spain must win. The question is whether they can or not. They always come in looking like champions and more often than not have problems along the way proving it. I think the player who most epitomizes Spain is Cesc Fabregas. He is dynamic, creative, active, and sometimes just short of a match winner when it counts.

We'll see.

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David Villa and Jesus Navas are probably the standout performers for Spain this first half; a goal from the former has given Spain a 1-0 lead. However, there have been a lot of free drama performances by some excellent actors, as well as genuine acts of petty stupidity that deserve to have been punished by the ref but weren't. Everybody here has a Latin temperament, it seems.

And it ends 2-0. That Villa guy? Scored the second and missed a penalty. Spain was profligate; if they had stuck to their guns, if the Torres had been more alert, they could have done a 7-0 like Portugal. As it is, they shouldn't be satisfied with their little victory.

Whose World? What Cup? (Day 06)

Tonight's entertainment starred Chile and Honduras. Most people would bill this as a clash between two South American sides, if you had to choose continents. I think of the Republic of Honduras (formerly Spanish Honduras) as a North American country, however. This is because anything north of the Panama Canal (and including Panama itself) should be considered 'North America' — after all, that's where they cut through the narrow umbilical that connects the huge mass of South America to its northern counterpart.

The capital of Honduras (which means 'depths' in Spanish) has that lovely name Tegucigalpa, which sounds Mayan to me, and which I've always thought was pronounced 'de Gucci gal pa'. But who knows what the Spanish have done with that?

Meanwhile, the capital of Chile is Santiago, which is Spanish for 'St James'. It's also the battle-cry of the Reconquista, in full, "Santiago y cierra España!" — "St James and strike for Spain!" Yes, St James, one of the legendary sons of Thunder, is indeed the patron saint of Spain.

Scoreline: 1-0, "Santiago!" Yet another entertainment-with-low-score episode. I hope Spain, playing in 15 minutes' time, is a lot better.

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Haha. The disciples of Zwingli beat the hidalgos 1-0 after a terrible goalmouth scramble. Spain were interesting but not good. All the possession, but not self-possession enough to either stop the Swiss machine on its rare attacks or break their defence, which was traditionally resolute. Oh well. "Santiago!" It will be silly but normal if we don't see Spain in the grand final.

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And on a third Hispanophile note, Uruguay 1-0 so far against South Africa? Two endlessly-running sides separated by one Forlan's distant strike of beauty. Ah, the beautiful game...