Germany thrashed Argentina 4-0 in a match that saw Argentina chasing the game from the 2nd minute, when Müller opened the scoring for the Germans.

The one-sided scoreline, as well as the utter inability of the Argentines to create clear chances throughout the match, underscore the tactical inadequacies of the Argentine side, who had been untested up to this point in the World Cup.

The main culprit: Maradona, of course. Having called up the ridiculous amount of players (over 100) in the 2 years before this tournament, he failed to create any semblance of a solid midfield to support his stellar forwards.

Indeed, the increasingly washed-out Maxi Rodríguez has been quite disappointing for the past 2 or 3 years. Let go by Atlético, where he had long ago lost his place in the team, he moved to Liverpool, where he again failed to show any compelling reason to be in the first team this season. Once a pacy winger, he showed many of the signs of a player once reliant on his speed; now, he certainly is past his physical peak and struggling to find a new identity as a player. Nothing showing in this match.

In Mascherano, Argentina had a battler, albeit one known to lose his head increasingly in frustration. At Liverpool, he is well regarded by the fans and teammates, but showed his limited depth in the past two seasons, lacking any constructive vision beyond his break-up play, and often getting his team in trouble by mouthing off to refs and making foolish challenges.

Against Germany, the trio of Messi-Higuaín-Tévez, brilliant as it is, was completely isolated. As early as the 20th minute, we say Messi tracking back to left back just to get a touch on the ball. There was zero supply and zero possession from the Argentine midfield, and the result was resorting to alienated long-balls and individual actions by the forwards. And it fell more than flat against a disciplined German defense.

Even in its weak moments, the lack of support from midfield damaged any Argentine hopes of scoring.

Maradona’s team was without ideas, without help in the middle, where the Germans completely dominated via Schweinsteiger, Khedira, and Müller. This made the job of the outstanding Boateng even easier, snuffing out Argentina’s left side on attack, and Friedrich had little to do at right back.

In the end, it was a game for players like European champion Inter Milan’s Esteban Cambiasso, a holding midfielder capable of constructing the flow of the game, inexplicably overlooked by a stubborn, caricaturized Maradona. Nor was there any room on this team for the ageless Javier Zanetti, outstanding this season for Inter, as experienced a right back as any, and also an accomplished attacker. Not even a consideration for Gago, the young Real Madrid midfielder who showed tremendous growth this season, finally beginning to fulfill his potential. And not a mention for Ever Banega, the Valencia creative midfielder who had an excellent season in Spain.

Instead, Maradona preferred to focus on picking a seemingly random bunch of players, including the over-the-hill Juan Sebastián Verón and Martín Palermo, and showed faith in some very inconsistent, shaky defenders such as Demechelis and the erratic Heinze.

In addition, he focused on his own clownish antics more than that on tactics. Let’s face it: Argentina’s 2010 campaign was less about the players and more about Maradona giving cameras a clear view of his about-to-burst suit trousers, celebrating every goal like it was the last in Argentina’s cup (little did he know). By failing to step back and recognize his team’s weaknesses, and delving deeply into his incorrigeable ego, it was ultimately the team that was hurt.

The 4-0 should, at the very least, go a long way in showing Argentina the mistakes made in their World Cup campaign, beginning with the appointment of a man not fit to be the manager of a serious national team.

The most telling anecdote: Maradona furiously refused to sit down at a press conference after a friendly match with Germany in January, upon seeing Müller seated at the press table. He angrily declared that Germany had sent this “ballboy” to insult him. Now the ballboy has given him the ultimate response on the field in Cape Town.

Dunga handed in his resignation immediately following the 2-1 loss to the Netherlands, citing that the blame was “his and everybody else’s”

To some extent, he was right. If, by “everybody else,” he meant Felipe Melo. And to a lesser extent, Julio César, trumped as one of the best keepers in the World Cup despite not having to do anything in the whole tournament, and failing the one time it mattered.

1. Melo’s case is more clear-cut as a reason for this shocking loss: his pass created the 1-0 as the Dutch defense failed to show up; his incisive pass, which a good defense would never have allowed, gave Robinho a cakewalk for the opening goal.

However, a long ball into the box in the second half showed a tactically unaware Melo, who impeded his own keeper (who probably should have called him off anyways) and headed into his own net. The worst was yet to come. When Brazil were down 2-1, his stupid and deplorable stomp on Arjen Robben deprived Brazil of an even handed contest.

Obviously frustrated, Melo had been the victim of numerous fouls, which brings me to a second point:

2. The Japanese referee, Yuichi Nishimura, was inconsistent in controlling the match. Moments before being sent off, Melo received a particularly brutal hack from behind from Mark Van Bommel. Amazingly, Van Bommel was fouling with virtual impunity throughout the second half, and in my neutral eyes could have gotten at least 3 clear-cut yellow cards.

It was a mystery to those watching that, for example, Michel Bastos would receive a yellow for persistent fouling, yet Van Bommel, fouling even more flagrantly and frequently, escaped booking.

Of course, none of these are excuses for Felipe Melo’s temper-tantrum and dirty kick. This side of Melo was obvious against Portugal, though in that case Dunga subbed him off before he could do himself (or an unfortunate Portuguese player) more damage.

3. This brings us to the third key in this self-destruction of the Brazilian team: Dunga. It is simple to see that in this specific match, he was all wrong in his changes; he really should have seen Felipe Melo, already visibly frustrated, off when they were drawing 1-1. Taking off Michel Bastos gave the Dutch loads of space to exploit on that side of the field, freeing them from his incursions down their own right channel.

Secondly, taking off Luis Fabiano and introducing Nilmar did not make much sense when they were 2-1 down. A forward-for-forward swap only makes sense when you are winning or drawing a very tight game in which a forward is seriously not functioning.

This last swap demonstrates one of Dunga’s biggest mistakes in the end: a lack of attacking and creative depth in the squad.

With the 1-0, Brazil did not dominate as they should have; their team was set up to play against a team that would attack them in the manner of Chile. In contrast with Spain, who held a masterclass of how to play with a 1-0 against Portugal, they were unable to keep meaningful possession. Unlike Argentina, who when winning 1-0 against Mexico went for the jugular, they lacked ideas and incisiveness when leading.

When tied 1-1, even more when they were losing, there was no go-to player that could come in and make an impact. This lack of an impact sub drastically limited the tactical options of the Brazilians. The conservative double-holding formation anchored by Melo and Gilberto Silva makes sense in a tight match in which limiting the opponents options takes precedence over creating chances.  Counterattacking is essential in such a system.

But when Brazil were desperately needing a goal, they had to take more risks, and simply did not have the resources to create them. Robinho and Kaká were exposed in a poor performance from both of them; by the time Holland scored, their defense showed itself to be more than apt in 1-on-1 situations, man marking tightly and pressuring the creators every time they had a touch. As a result, there were no options for either of them, and Luis Fabiano received no supply whatsoever all game.

At this point, Dunga’s great flaw of not calling up more attacking players is glaringly obvious. There was much controversy in Brazil at the repeated omission of players such as Juventus’s Diego, a brilliant midfield orchestrator; Alexandre Pato, who was injured until late April, yet still is a brilliant and irrepresible forward; and the old dog Ronaldinho, whose experience and vision might have changed things for Brazil.

And this is still overlooking attackers such as Hulk, who has been absolutely outstanding for Porto in the last couple edition of the Champions’ League.

For a time, these failings on Dunga’s part were overlooked. The world, and Brazilian fans, seemed ready to overlook the increasingly distant ideals of jogo bonito (which the British press, no doubt swayed by Nike, have perverted to Joga Bonito) in favor of a physical, low-risk battling squad.

In the end, the abandonment of jogo bonito was more than risky: it was disastrous. Dunga, and Brazil’s, negation of their stereotypically skillfull and swashbuckling game was a practical and tactical error too large to overcome against a rather fortunate Dutch side.

Japanese Sun Rising

Though the viral video of Japanese footballers smashing pots with Jabulanis™ might have been a put-on, having seen the Japanese performance against Denmark, one might be led to think that some similarly bizarre and obsessive training had been done with the Nippon Daihyō.

One could imagine them waking with the ball, taking it to the bathroom with them, perhaps balancing it on their nape while seated upon porcelain; later, breakfast beckons, and the ball is cradled gently upon their bellies, moving with every breath, and to accomodate the most subtle lump of food entering the stomach.

Such was the touch they had on the Jabulani™ this Thursday, that the world could not but bow in deference to their mastery. The first free kick, executed by the otherworldy Keisuke Honda, was a marvel of commanding flawed technology; a tricksy, unpredictable missile weaving its way through the air Royal Bafokeng Sports Palace, finding its way into the corner of a hapless Danish keeper’s net.

The young Japanese star, not unknown to watchers of the UEFA Champions’ League, is surely the Next Big Thing. The lad has an air about him of being of another class of football: the truly world-class. Talk about a special one. The goal he set up a few minutes from time was sublimely done; a deft touch and sublime pirouette. The fact that he passed it to his number 9 Shinji Okazaki speaks volumes of a player for whom grace and spectacle are but the icing on the cake for a footballer who can play with the best of them, anywhere.

And finally, the second goal, a stunning free kick by Yasuhito Endō, will go down not only as the first time there have been two goals from free kicks in forever in the World Cup, but as the first time anyone has struck the Jabulani™ with an effective inwards/inside of the foot curve. Poor Thomas Sorenson, victim of the unpredictable.

And predictably, another horrific refereeing farce, with the South African official booking arbitrarily for time-wasting in the first 15 minutes of the game when nobody else noticed. Not to mention an absurd yellow card for jumping to Bendtner. And a ridiculous penalty dive that almost-almost–put Denmark back into things. This latter one was only overshadowed by the Tomasson futility penalty, blocked, and its injury-plagued follow-up.

Role Reversal

Stunning change of roles in Ellis Park.

To begin with, a referee and his team actually did a good job in the WWF. I mean World Cup. For the most part unobtrusive–increasingly rare in World Cup referees–the team led by Englishman Howard Web was spot on and did not take the attention away from the stunning match before our eyes.

Only for a few moments did attention fall upon them. Firstly, when Martin Skrtel controversially cleared an Italian shot off the line that would have been the Italian equalizer. No call, no goal. It happened in a split millisecond, at so difficult an angle for any refs to see. Not even multiple, slow motion instant replays could reveal whether the ball actually crossed or didn’t cross the line. So quick that not even the Italians had the time (or the certainty) to protest.

A second moment was the offsides call on a Quagliarella disallowed goal in the 2nd half. The players did not protest but for the obligatory raising their arms in protest. TV replays were initially inconclusive, but eventually showed that the call was an accurate one, close though it was.

Finally, a couple of incidents involving Mucha, the Slovakian keeper, in which he was harangued by Italians trying to get the ball out of the net from him, very nearly sparking a brawl were it not for the unyielding firmness of Webb, who managed to deflate the incident and refused to reward both the time-wasting of the keeper and the play-actiing of the Italian in the incident.

And in the end, the other great reversal, which was Slovakia playing like the stereotypical Italian side. Ugly, but efficient. Few chances, but deadly finishing. Physicality combined with a healthy dose of play-acting and time-wasting. A spectacle whose morbid attraction was the possibility of the reigning champion going out in the first round. This fixture did not disappoint.

The image: a true captain, Cannavaro escorts a sobbing Quagliarella off the field. A touching moment of true dignity on a night that will be tainted with ignonimity for Italian fans.

Ivory Coast- Brazil

Well, I am comprehensively disappointed by the match I was most looking forward to this weekend.

On paper, and judging from a solid performance against Portugal and a questionable Brazilian performance against North Korea, there were high expectations for this match, with Ivory Coast rightfully being touted as the Great Hope for Africa.

Nevertheless, from the get-go things looked dim, with master of underachievement Sven Goran Eriksson opting to start Gervinho, easily the best Ivorian against Portugal, on the bench. What’s more, we were surprised again by the presence of a midfielder like Zokora in the middle of the defense.

The match was absolutely toothless at the outset, with the Ivorians content to let their rivals do whatever they wanted. A good goal put them 1-0 down, and a ridiculous 2nd by Luis Fabiano, which should have been whistled out twice, virtually sealed it.

On said play, the Brazilian handled the ball, not once, but twice, in the same play, in clear view of the ref and his linesmen. Amazingly, the French official seemed to tease Luis Fabiano after the goal for having used his hands to control. Intentional or not, the goal should not have stood; his arms were above his head in both instances, thus rendering the ball dead and a free kick for the other team.

Overall the standard of officiating was extremely poor, not only allowing such a goal but also permitting shameless gamesmanship from the Brazilians, and later, horrific tackling from the Ivorians. We hope that Elano is not seriously injured, as the challenge that took him out of the game was enough to break my leg just from seeing it. Same goes for Michel Bastos, whose ankle was ironed out shortly after.

In the end, Kaká, dismal except for a combined total of 1 minute in this tournament (fortunately for Brazil that total minute led to two assists, one permitted by nonexistent defending), was sent off, helped by some Ivorian acting. Somebody must have shown them Rivaldo’s 2002 performance.

The match leaves a bad taste in the mouth, unless you are Brazilian and don’t care about anything besides Brazil winning.

Not only has the officiating question continued to taint this World Cup (changes NOW please!) but the Ivorians were atrociously dire. No fire, no energy, nothing at all besides a lay-down-and-die attitude from the very beginning.

As far as the officiating, I am ready for some basketball-style interventions. I am sick of the idea that football is some pure structure that mustn’t be tainted by any technology. Do we forget that the rules of this game have been modified hundreds of times since its inception? Why should we not take measures to ensure a more just contest?

We take for granted relatively “young” rules such as offsides, yet couldn’t bear the thought of instant replay. We complain that it would slow down the game, yet people won’t entertain something similar to a shot clock to cut down on the rampant time-wasting every time a team uses a small eternity to execute a throw-in or goal kick. Of course, bad calls will always happen (the NCAA Final Four is a good example), but I would love to see changes made for the good of the sport. At least in the NCAA Basketball Tournament we don’t see disgraceful gamesmanship, time-wasting, cynical fouling, and petulance towards offcials, because such actions are not tolerated, and furthermore, a careful system of referring balance ensures that such elements are at least minimized.

Italy “Falls” Against New Zealand

While a dramatic match, I believe that the commentators in general have lost sight of a couple of things.

1. Italy could have lost and STILL go through, if they beat Slovakia.

2. Slovakia have been abysmal and I fancy Italy won’t be too troubled by them, even if they do park the bus. What’s more, there is the possibility of Italy drawing and still going through if Paraguay beat New Zealand. This latter possibility seems strong considering the effort expended by the “Kiwis”. What’s more, Slovakia is currently a contender for dullest team in the tournament.

Lastly, how many times does the ESPN commentator have to say “The flightless Kiwis have taken flight” before being silenced by his own ironies?

Sacre bleu!

The unprecedented walkout on their own training by the French squad has made for great entertainment. The footage out there shows the French physical trainer throwing his badge in anger after being informed by Patrice Evra that the team refused to train in protest of Anelka’s firing.

Most entertainingly, a French journalist, L’Équipe’s Erik Bielderman, reported, LIVE on ESPN, what Anelka really said to Domenech, in a thick French accent: “he said to him go fuck himself, you son of a bitch.”

Saturday

Unsurprising results all around, though many would have fancied Ghana to defeat a 10-man Australia.

Which brings up the question: why on Earth would anybody include Harry Kewel in their squad? Was his 20-odd minute cameo scripted, as it is hard to remember him every playing more than 20 minutes in any match, ever.

A pre-dated update, after two days on the road with only marginal footballing action. All the better after Spain’s defeat against Switzerland, their first ever.

Rain on Spain’s Parade

Defeat was bitterly disappointing, considering that Spain showed up to play football and found before itself a rival committed to nothing more than making life hell for them. Unfortunately, it worked, which asks some questions of the team.

Firstly, why do Spanish coaches become so conservative at tournaments? Shouldn’t fidelity to a team’s identity be a fluid concept? Especially considering the fact that nobody on Earth expected the Swiss to try and win a midfield battle (they have not allowed a World Cup goal against them since 1994, when they lost to Spain). Del Bosque clogged up the midfield with Xavi, Xabi Alonso, and Busquets, thus frustrating Spain’s attacking momentum. Of course, the bigger your team, the more reluctant you are to tinker as you fear that you will be criticized for not using your “brand name” solutions. Should this have been a game to throw in some big attacking players like Llorente (1.95m tall) or Javi Martínez (1.90m)? Pedro, while having a great year at Barça, came to this team too late and looked well out of his element.

In all, Spain’s chances are still very good, unless Switzerland suddenly decide to start playing like Argentina. British and Americans love to pull out facts such as “no team has ever won after losing the opener,” though Argentina (‘90) and Italy (‘94) came pretty damned close. It is, after all, for a reason that we bother to hold the World Cup instead of just handing it out to the Brazilians or Italians.

African Letdown

South Africa got thumped by a somewhat shallow Uruguay side. Nigeria knocked down by the Greeks, for their first ever win in the World Cup since Socrates and Plato took on Aristophanes’s theatre crew in a kickabout. Cameroon and Algeria have started dreadfully as well–will they better the prospects of African football as a whole?

All eyes on Ivory Coast this weekend–their match with Brazil should be the decider as to the progress of the African game. Robo-Drogba set to start–I am no longer taking bets on which side of himself he’ll dive to!

Mexico’s New Cinco de Mayo

A slightly controversial offside no-call marked the opening goal, which led to increased appeals to introduce the Adidas Offside Blast Ball™, which would automatically produce a powerful explosion when touched by a player in an offside position.

Domenech. Enough said. For him, making it this far was a triumph in and of itself. Anywhere else, he would have been fired six times by now, and replaced by his archrivals (aka, any player who has every played for him and done well in spite of him).

As Spain prepares to take on Switzerland on Wednesday, the world is abuzz with anticipation.

Not only are Spain joint favorites with Brazil, but the tournament needs the Spanish team like a fish needs water. After one of the drabbest opening rounds in memory, fans everywhere are looking for reasons as to why things are so awful this time round. The long European season, the austral winter, the security concerns and the stress it creates, the ultra-defensive attitudes, and the worst ball in history that was still round: the Jabulani. Thanks, adidas, for a World Cup with no shots on goal.

The prospect of the Spanish team being true to its image, thus, serves as a necessary riposte from the otherwise disappointing level of play seen so far. The Spaniards seem to be on the rise, even considering their incredible record winning and unbeaten streaks, as well as their scintillating win at Euro 2008.

Having seen the Brazilians struggle to beat North Korea 2-1, the Spanish side brings a promise of a real jogo bonito. The coach, Vicente del Bosque, seems more than likely to be faithful to their image of artful prodigies of world football. Despite coming off the success of 2008, the 2010 squad is one that is still tremendously youthful and not bound to the stereotypical cynicism associated with defending champs who refuse to sacrifice anything in their bid to retain. With enough talent to build two squads, it is easy to forget that Spanish football itself is defined by its strict divisions, often with its bitter political roots.

In the case of this current squad, there is a strong base along the Real Madrid-Barcelona line, with as many as 9 starters featuring from these two banner teams. At the same time, there is also a significant infusion from other Spanish teams such as Athletic Bilbao and Sevilla, not to mention the small but brilliant British contingent in Torres and Fabregas. It is a team filled with Catalans and madrileños, with Basques from Guipúzcoa and Vizcaya, with stars from La Mancha and the Canary Islands.

This diversity of linguistic-ethnic groups has long been associated with an underperformance of the Spanish national team at big tournaments. However, Euro 2008 showcased a side that seemed to be driven much more by professional, global ambition, than by regional differentiation. The team was able to assembe around a single footballing language that made sense not only to them, but to the world.

Laurent Dubois, an avid football fan and historian at Duke University, speaks about the idea of football and the French empire in the 20th century, his study Soccer Empire: The World Cup and the Future of France culminating with a discussion of the impact of the World Cup triumph of 1998 on society and politics. Among other things, the triumph (and the run) of the epic ‘98 French team generated a maelstrom of political and social debate that went down to the bone of French identity.

The fact that the team was composed of an unprecedented mix of ethnic backgrounds, mostly descending from the French colonies, was a source of contention during their famous run. At the same time, the French victory created a platform for unification, in which the idea of France gloriously embraced post-colonial realities. A once homogeneous identity became multicolored, and under its figurehead Zinedine Zidane, son of Algerian immigrants, realized the possibilities of a truly race-less society.

And yet, Soccer Empire also brings up the question of how long such a feelgood moment lasts before society reverts to its previous patterns, moving on to other, perhaps more immediate concerns.

In the Spanish case, it would be fascinating to see how the politics of autonomous communites play out alongside the progress of the national team. What would happen to the vociferously separatist contingents from the Basque Country and Catalonia? More importantly, what would happen in terms of the public opinion of the masses who follow football, whose opinions are not always represented by their most vocal politicians even in areas with anti-Spanish nationalist ambitions?

Unification seems like a naïve ideal, especially in the context of what many will consider merely a sport, a diversion. Nonetheless, one cannot negate the reality that this sport is a phenomenon resulting from innumberable cultural conditions, and is an important part of the social fabric, occupying not just stadiums, but imaginations and everything that derives from that. Ideas about masculinty, sex, discipline, beauty, violence, and so forth, pass through and are perpetuated by the global game.

For the Spanish team, while we cannot predict the impact they will have on politics and society in general in Spain should they do well, we can certainly know for sure that a deep Spanish run will certainly bring the footballing public a great deal of joy.

National Anthem Battles

Finally some interesting anthem contests have come up. The Serbia-Ghana matchup featured two of the better anthems we’ve seen so far. Though the Ghanaians might have won the actual match, I give the edge to the Serbs with a somewhat sinister-toned national anthem that perhaps carries over some notes from the crazy times of civil war. Ghana’s was a close contender, though they lost some points for sounding too much like Germany’s “Deutschland, Deutschland”.

Australia vs. Germany: The Australians started off weakly with a piece that sounded like it was off the soundtrack of Titanic 2, before the vocals kicked in and almost saved it for them. The Germans, despite some umph being removed from their anthem due to some post-WWII forced lyrical edits, ended up on top as they always do (or so the stereotypes say). Puzzling considering some of the horror material out there–the Marseillaise to give one example (that line about  “may an impure blood / water our furrows” is rather scintillating). My decision here might also be based on the fact that the Australian anthem was not, in the end, “Waltzing Matilda,” currently a hit on youTube and with my 2 year-old.

Other Kinds of Matches

The Holland-Denmark match, regardless of its result costing me a bloody fortune, was anticlimatic to say the least. One expected a contest worthy of the Laudrups and the Cruyffs and instead was handed, well, a footballing slog of Bendtners and Van Bommels. If they weren’t still alive, the aforementioned legends would roll over in their grave and root for Germany. A comical own-goal sealed the fate of a hapless Denmark, who had less ideas than they did natural brunettes.

A major reason this match promised so much before it actually occured was considering the history of the total-footballing Dutch sides. There was once a time when they thrilled the world and reached all the big finals. In the past few tournaments though (‘98, ‘02, ‘06, and especially in Euros 2004 and 2008) they stormed through the group stages like banshees. Who could forget how they thrashed the Group of Death in 2008, beating world champ Italy 3-0 and making them look like an amateur team from a pasta factory. Then tearing World Cup runner-up France a new one 4-1, while making them look like [insert stereotype here] a local bakery Sunday team.

The Japan-Cameroon, while a great match, reinforced stereotypes about the Japanese being lightweights and the Cameroonians being hapless despite possessing an island of world-class football in a player like Eto’o. In the end, there were enough dramatics to satsify, with exhausted Japanese players looking like they were playing a man down, while Cameroonians used their cliché superior athleticism to knock balls too far in front of themselves. I could imagine what Eto’o might have been thinking: “Cameroon needs 10 more Eto’os”.

And finally, no surprises in the Italy vs. Paraguay. The Paraguayans seem to enjoy their self-made image of utterly empty football based on defending in numbers and hoping that the opponents’ shots hit off of one of their ten defenders and out of play. Despite this, an early goal set up some dramatics made worse by the “typical” Italian slow-motion start to the World Cup. Of course, in the end, those darn Italians did what everybody knew they would do, and tied the game, then nearly won it, while playing shite football.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Things Can Only Get Better, Tomorrow

One awaits the result of the miracle surgery of Drogba. Surely, his reappearance after a broken arm would rank up there with the return from the dead of Garrincha in the 2002 Brazilian™ run to the title. Portugal, meanwhile, after nearly a decade of  persistent “Golden Generation” rhetoric, seem to have assembled a squad of also-rans and ineffective forwards, plus the Poutiest Lipped Footballer of All Time™ Cristiano Ronaldo, whom the Madrid press still tout as the “Best in the World” despite being shown up by Lionel Messi approximately 20 times in the past 2 seasons at various competitions.

And finally, in the ultimate battle between Southern Hemisphere capitalism and North Korean communism, we have the old dogs of Brazil featuring one of their least Brazilian teams ever (only 2 of their squad are Brazil-based). They take on, well, North Korea, about whom little is known besides the fact that April 25th is the date of the founding of their military, as well as the military team that their manager also manages (not to mention a number of their players). That, and their intriguing star, Jong Tae-Se, who despite being known as the “People’s Rooney” back home would rather be like the aforementioned Zombie Drogba.

7.  (rejected by the editors) Group of [Literal] Death. Much like the traditional group of death, only actual death is the feature. The teams in this group will compete for the Ultimate Prize: human life.

8. Star Ball. Much like the famous “star” token in Super Mario Brothers, this addition to the game would grant superpowers to the attacking player with the ball, via an instant injection of sugar, caffeine, and fast-action steroids. In addition to additional power, endurance, and speed, the player receiving the Star Ball would also be granted absolute impunity for 35 seconds.

9. Pro Wrestling-Style Pitch Invasions. Taking a cue from WWF, this update to the legendary FIFA rulebook would open up a multitude of possibilities, including but not limited to: players from one team invading a match in which other rivals are playing, and scoring against their principal enemies; masked player wearing the number “0″ suddenly joining in the action to sabatoge a boring deadlock; players’ wives doing things such as tripping their enemies during counterattacks. Could also lead to other wrestling-style innovations, such as getting FIFA administrators involved in the story line (for example, Maradona bitch-slapping Sepp Blatter after gate-crashing the opening ceremony).

10. Opening Kick–for Keeps. In an attempt to pander to the American market, FIFA introduces an opening penalty kick taken by a head of state or other celebrity or dignitary. Each half begins with a penalty kick from a randomly chosen world leader or reality television star, with the resulting goal counting.

11. BabyCup. Since their are little kids out on the pitch lining up with the teams anyways, why not let them play against each other as well? This mini-Cup would attract sponsors as well as finally attract the elusive soccer-Mom market in the United States.

12. GreenCup. For World Cups played in wealthy Western nations, the GreenCup rule will allow players from less wealthy nations to earn GreenCards or other forms of permanent residency depending on how well they perform. This update to the format would ensure that this small-team attitude of “for us, making it this far is like winning” is abolished.

Given the drabness of the opening weekend of World Cup matches, we offer the following suggestions on improving the Big Tournament.

1. The Predator Drone Ball. Taking technological advancement and the Jabulani to next level, this new and literally world-conquering ball from Adidas would be lighter, faster, rounder, and equipped with an iPhone GPS, piloting itself using the shake-to-shuffle feature, as well as high-powered explosives. A normal shot would be converted not only into perhaps a thunderous goal, but also into a potential international incident and declaration of war.

2. Phone-A-Legend. During crucial free kicks or penalties, teams are given the option to phone one of their nation’s all-time greats to come and take the kick for them. Only usable once per match, this new feature would open up the proverbial can of worms regarding drug tests for such Legends, especially during Argentina matches (obligatory Maradona joke fulfilled).

3. South African Lion. All World Cup stadiums in South Africa to be equipped with a free-ranging, real lion. Not clear as of yet whether this will actually make for a better match, but it would give the issue of the man-beast struggle more attention.

4. Non-Lethal Mines. These devices could have various functions, ranging from your basic explosion of tar and feathers (should improve the ratings amongst 1-4 year olds) to a trap door into a digital virtual reality dimension in which the trapped player will have to use a Nintendo Wii controller to fight Bowser in order to return to the match (should increase the ratings for 12-16 year olds.

5. The BP Butterfingers Halftime Ball. This ball would be introduced at halftime, and greased with industrial, petroleum-based lubricants to encourage more shots on goal as well as consciousness about green energy.

6. The Slanted Field. Much like in miniature golf, the slanted field would add a special advantage to the downhill team, and encourage spectacular skill shots. Optionally, the field could be slanted as much as 45 degrees and incorporate a windmill at the top of the penalty area.

Argentina 1- Nigeria 0

Earlier I predicted Maradona’s second coming: “Maradona comes on, taking advantage of an archaic and little-known FIFA loophole, smoking a cigar that Fidel gave him, and scores a hat-trick: one with his left pinky, and the other two from free kicks deep in his own half.”

Sadly, this did not happen, though, as Amy Lawrence at the Guardian points out, he was, to a great extent the center of attention (the fashionistas amongst us would have noted his spiffy suit, interestingly buttoned only at the bottom button, in a nod to Southeast Asian style [?]).

The match itself was a slight improvement over the South Korea- Greece from earlier, which tasted even more bitter given my early rising for the occasion. Nonetheless, Argentina looked more than sloppy, and while Nigeria were shambolic, they could have even nabbed a goal or two had they not been so dreadful anywhere near the opposing area. The Argentines will have to solidify things before the second round to stand a chance.

Anthem Ratings

Another disappointment, as the two national anthems sounded like they were from some early 90’s Nintendo sports game, though the positive angle was that it certainly brought back fond memories of playing “Ice Hockey” with my little brother. Call it another Draw.

Politically Correct Pick

This win would have to go to Argentina, who, though far from being 100% perfect in the eyes of GooHLs (Good Honest Liberals), have at the very least elected a woman president despite their history of repressive dictatorship (and winning the ‘78 World Cup under those circumstances). Nigeria might have a way to go, not least because of the steady stream of ridiculously stupid scam emails that I receive daily from within their borders.

Ewe Ess A 1 — Perfidious Albion 1

At last, an interesting tie in this World Cup, not only for its political background but also for the fact that it was a reasonably attractive fixture.

Now for more important things…

Vuvuezala Watch

The maddening drone must slowly become integrated into my consciousness, as when I left the house to pick up a twelve pack, my subconscious felt like it was being pursued by a metaphorical horde of devil-wasps from Hell.

Anthem Ratings

“God Save the Queen” is as hard an act as there is to follow. However, several factors unbeknowst to me sucked out some of the oomph normally provided by the Ingerland supporters. The Star Spangled Banner was a firm response, though possibly because it was transmitted with more volume by the American broadcast.