The Story of the World Cup
Page 51
But there was no gainsaying his remarkable achievements. Before the World Cup Finals, he had taken his gifted Under-20 team all the way to the Final of the 1999 World Tournament, reached the quarter-finals of the Olympic tournament in Sydney in 2000, and three months later won the Asian Cup. ‘Here,’ he said, somewhat enigmatically ‘the players have a natural energy comparable to that of Mount Fuji. But you have to canalise it and teach them the football played in Europe. They were too naive and not prepared for battle.’
Gradually his 3-5-2 formation grew battle hardened. He never hesitated to make changes during a game and had the tendency not to start with his best side. In the quarter-final against Turkey, he would deploy all three substitutes, one of them, Ichikawa, himself being replaced.
‘Two years ago,’ he observed, ‘we had one star (plainly Hidetoshi Nakata). Now we have twenty.’
RESULTS: Japan and South Korea 2002
First round
Group A
Seoul, Ulsan, Daegu, Busan, Incheon, Suwon
France 0, Senegal 1
Uruguay 1, Denmark 2
Denmark 1, Senegal 1
France 0, Uruguay 0
Denmark 2, France 0
Senegal 3, Uruguay 3
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Denmark 3 2 1 0 5 2 7
Senegal 3 1 2 0 5 4 5
Uruguay 3 0 2 1 4 5 2
France 3 0 1 2 0 3 1
Group B
Busan, Gwangju, Jeonju, Daegu, Seogwipo, Daejon
Paraguay 2, South Africa 2
Spain 3, Slovenia 1
Spain 3, Paraguay 1
South Africa 1, Slovenia 0
Paraguay 3, Slovenia 1
Spain 3, South Africa 2
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Spain 3 3 0 0 9 4 9
Paraguay 3 1 1 1 6 6 4
South Africa 3 1 1 1 5 5 4
Slovenia 3 0 0 3 2 7 0
Group C
Ulsan, Gwangju, Seogwipo, Incheon, Suwon, Seoul
Brazil 2, Turkey 1
Costa Rica 2, China 0
Brazil 4, China 0
Turkey 1, Costa Rica 1
Brazil 5, Costa Rica 2
Turkey 3, China 0
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Brazil 3 3 0 0 11 3 9
Turkey 3 1 1 1 5 3 4
Costa Rica 3 1 1 1 5 6 4
China 3 0 0 3 0 9 0
Group D
Busan, Suwon, Daegu, Jeonju, Incheon, Daejeon
South Korea 2, Poland 0
USA 3, Portugal 2
South Korea 1, USA 1
Portugal 4, Poland 0
South Korea 1, Portugal 0
Poland 3, USA 1
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
South Korea 3 2 1 0 4 1 7
USA 3 1 1 1 5 6 4
Portugal 3 1 0 2 6 4 3
Poland 3 1 0 2 3 7 3
Group E
Niigata, Sapporo, Kashima, Ibaraki, Saitama, Shizuoka, Yokohama
Ireland 1, Cameroon 1
Germany 8, Saudi Arabia 0
Germany 1, Ireland 1
Cameroon 1, Saudi Arabia 0
Ireland 3, Saudi Arabia 0
Germany 2, Cameroon 0
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Germany 3 2 1 0 11 1 7
Ireland 3 1 2 0 5 2 5
Cameroon 3 1 1 1 2 3 4
Saudi Arabia 3 0 0 3 0 12 0
Group F
Ibaraki, Saitama, Sapporo, Kobe, Osaka, Miyagi
Argentina 1, Nigeria 0
England 1, Sweden 1
England 1, Argentina 0
Sweden 2, Nigeria 1
England 0, Nigeria 0
Sweden 1, Argentina 1
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Sweden 3 1 2 0 4 3 5
England 3 1 2 0 2 1 5
Argentina 3 1 1 1 2 2 4
Nigeria 3 0 1 2 1 3 1
Group G
Niigata, Sapporo, Miyagi, Ibaraki, Yokohama, Oita
Mexico 1, Croatia 0
Italy 2, Ecuador 0
Croatia 2, Italy 1
Mexico 2, Ecuador 1
Ecuador 1, Croatia 0
Mexico 1, Italy 1
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Mexico 3 2 1 0 4 2 7
Italy 3 1 1 1 4 3 4
Croatia 3 1 0 2 2 3 3
Ecuador 3 1 0 2 2 4 3
Group H
Saitama, Kobe, Yokohama, Oita, Osaka, Shizuoka,
Japan 2, Belgium 2
Tunisia 0, Russia 2
Japan 1, Russia 0
Tunisia 1, Belgium 1
Belgium 3, Russia 2
Japan 2, Tunisia 0
GOALS
P W D L F A Pts
Japan 3 2 1 0 5 2 7
Belgium 3 1 2 0 6 5 5
Russia 3 1 0 2 4 4 3
Tunisia 3 0 1 2 1 5 1
Second Round
Seogwipo
Germany 1, Paraguay 0
Niigata
England 3, Denmark 0
Oita
Senegal 2, Sweden 1
(Golden Goal)
Suwon
Spain 1, Ireland 1
Spain win 3–2 on penalties after extra time
Jeonju
USA 2, Mexico 0
Kobe
Brazil 2, Belgium 0
Miyagi
Turkey 1, Japan 0
Daejeon
South Korea 2, Italy 1
(Golden Goal)
Quarter-finals
Shizuoka
Brazil 2, England 1
Ulsan
Germany 1, USA 0
Gwangju
South Korea 0, Spain 0
South Korea win 5–3 on penalties after extra time
Osaka
Turkey 1, Senegal 0
(Golden Goal)
Semi-finals
Seoul
Germany 1, South Korea 0
Saitama
Brazil 1, Turkey 0
Third-place match
Daegu
Turkey 3 South Korea 2
Rustu; Fathi, Lee
Alpay, Bulent, Ergun; W.-J.; Yoo, Hong (Kim
B. Umit, Basturk T.-Y.), Lee M.-S.; Song,
(Tayfur), Tugay, Emre Park, Lee Y.-P., Lee
B. (Hakan Unsal); C.-S., Lee E.-Y. (Cha);
Ilhan, Hakan Sukur. Ann, Seol (Coi T.-U.).
SCORERS
Hakan Sukur, Ilhan 2 for Turkey.
Lee E.-Y. and Song for South Korea
Final
Yokohama
Brazil 2 Germany 0
Marcos; Lucio, Kahn; Linke,
Edmilson, Roque Ramelow, Metzelder;
Junior; Cafu, Frings, Hamann,
Kleberson, Gilberto Schneider, Jeremies
Silva, Roberto Carlos; (Asamoah), Bode
Ronaldinho, Ronaldo, (Ziege); Klose
Rivaldo (Juninho) (Bierhoff), Neuville.
(Denilson).
SCORERS
Ronaldo 2 for Brazil
GERMANY
2006
You might say this time that the 2006 World Cup—not for the first time —ended both with a bang and with a whimper. The bang was the head butt in extra time by the 34-year-old Zinedine Zidane into the chest of Italy’s Marco Materazzi, who collapsed. The whimper was the way the Final, after a promising enough start, petered out on penalties, with Zidane, until then arguably the star turn of the competition, sent off in his last game for France.
Until then Zidane, in the image of the French team itself, had been an astonishing example of rejuvenation. It was known that before the tournament he had been at odds with the team manager, Raymond Domenech, an endearingly comic figure on the touchlines as he gestured, wriggled and cavorted, besuited and bespectacled. Zidane, who claimed to have been inspired in the depths of the night by a mysterious presence to change his mind about retiring from international football, had begun badly: in the imag
e of the team itself.
So much so that, during the second game, against South Korea, following the uneasy draw against the Swiss, Domenech actually pulled Zidane off the field. That relations had reached a point of no return seemed implicit in the way Zidane strode off the field without a word or a look at his manager. Since he was suspended, after a second yellow card, from the ensuing game against Togo, when Domenech successfully started his striker David Trezeguet alongside his former Monaco team mate, Thierry Henry, Zidane seemed a figure of the past.
It was immensely to the credit of Domenech that he bit the bullet, buried the hatchet, choose what metaphor you wish, and so surprisingly brought Zidane back for the round of sixteen game against Spain. Zidane responded with a magisterial display, a compound of skill, flair, calm command, invention and powerful finishing. The goal at the end of the match with which he crowned the French victory was a marvellous achievement, technique compounded by power. As, indeed, was the massive free kick from left to right which enabled Thierry Henry to smash home his spectacular goal against Brazil in the quarter-final. A Brazilian team whose supposed stars were utterly eclipsed by Zidane, who went on to score the penalty which, stroked in off the bar, put France ahead in the Final.
What, then, made him lose his head in that last game, and assault Materazzi? Whatever it was (three insults?), there was plainly no excuse for it, least of all for a player of such experience and with such huge responsibility. But then Zidane already had ‘form’. He had been sent off in the 1998 tournament, which he would crown with his two headed goals in the Final against Brazil, in the match versus Saudi Arabia. And a flagrant offence in a Champions League game, playing for Juventus, had earned him a five-match suspension.
That Materazzi, a notorious hard case, had insulted him was beyond doubt, though the Italian himself denied that he had abused Zidane’s mother, insisting that he himself had been verbally provoked by the Frenchman. Lip readers insisted that Materazzi had indeed been viciously abusive. It was suggested that Zidane was especially vulnerable at the time, because his mother was seriously ill. But whatever his explosive temperament, Zidane was surely a sufficiently experienced figure to know the old, if unwritten, rule: never retaliate. It is arguable that this is exactly what Materazzi hoped he would do.
In the event, it compromised any real chance of winning a game in which the Italians after such a bright, brisk start seemed to have gone into their shell. Moreover, the skill in taking penalties which he had shown in that game and its predecessor was lost to his team, who duly succumbed on spot kicks. A truly distressing way to end the most important football competition that there is, though, of course, we had been subjected to it in 1994, in Pasadena.
Once upon a time, in the dim and distant past, there had been such a thing as replays, but the increasing gigantism of a tournament which had been so much more manageable and less, in every sense, exhausting at 16 teams made such a thing impossible, leading to the abysmal cheapening of the World Cup itself.
This would be a World Cup of endless surprises, which gave it a special allure. Some were positive, some negative, none more so than the failure of the favourites, Brazil. True, Brazil’s form in pre-tournament friendlies had been a little disappointing, but their panoply of stars, the way they had cruised through the attenuated South American qualifying group—beating the old foe Argentina in Rio, though losing to them in Buenos Aires—indicated heights which no other competitor was likely to reach. In particular, there was the effervescent Ronaldinho, fresh from a dazzling season with Barcelona, whom he had helped to win the Champions League, and voted best footballer in the world.
But from the very first World Cup game against Croatia, Ronaldinho looked strangely out of sorts. Explanations were various, but as the tournament went on there was general agreement that—though he never publicly complained—he was being asked to fill a role foreign to him, no longer able to dictate his own terms, obliged to drop deep rather than to go wide. By the time it came to the crucial match with France, he would be unrecognisable as the coruscating figure who had inspired Barcelona. And there was scant help coming from Ronaldo, even though, in the course of the competition, he’d establish a new World Cup scoring record. Ronaldo, like Zidane for that matter, had had a muted season at Real Madrid. Against Croatia, he looked overweight, even ponderous. There was something of an efflorescence after the first couple of games, and he took his goal well against an incredibly naive Ghanaian defence, but when push came to shove in the defeat by France, he was reduced largely to a series of palpable dives.
Nor was Adriano, so powerful and prolific a year earlier in Germany in the Confederations Cup, remotely at his peak. He had had a poor season with Internazionale in Italy, and for the most part looked largely ineffectual now. The much younger Ronaldinho provided glimmers of hope, but surely should have been used much more often.
As for the full backs, the veterans Cafu and Roberto Carlos, far too much was asked of them as overlappers in a Brazilian team still turning its back on the tradition of great right wingers: Julinho, Garrincha, Jairzinho. The manager, Carlos Alberto Parreira, seemed too much in thrall to the likes of Ronaldo and too unimaginative to turn things round. For me, he had never been an international manager of true consequence, wedded in his earliest brief spell in charge to a misbegotten ideal of what he thought to be ‘European’ football, later absurdly falling out with the country’s finest talent, Romario; though he recanted in time, as we know, to put Romario back in the side and thereby qualify by the skin of his teeth for a World Cup which Romario’s goals did so much to win.
By contrast, the manager of Argentina, José Pekerman, seemed to have done a quietly effective job in producing a team inspired by the clever playmaking of Juan Román Riquelme, to whom Pekerman gave a regular role after years in which Riquelme had been a marginal figure. All the more bizarre that, when it came to the crucial quarter-final against the German hosts, Pekerman should substitute Riquelme, whose qualities he’d always lauded, emphasising that a certain lack of speed was amply compensated for by quickness of thought and inventive passing. An error compounded by failing, in that game, to make any use of the precociously incisive winger, 19-year-old Lionel Messi. Somehow the virtue seemed to have seeped out of Pekerman, who resigned after his team had gone out on penalty kicks. That game over, there was the beginning of a brawl, and distant memories of the England–Argentina quarter-final of 1966, when frustrated Argentina players confronted their opponents, Gabriel Heinze prominently among them, and Leandro Cufré, a substitute who’d not even been used in the game, was given a red card for kicking the German defender Per Mertesacker. ‘It was typical Argentinian,’ said the disgusted German midfielder, Torsten Frings, one of his team’s liveliest players. ‘They completely lost their minds. We tried to calm them down, but it just shows they are bad sports and badly behaved. I hope their players get suspended.’
‘I had three or four red marks on my thigh and then he kicked me again in the groin,’ said Mertesacker. ‘I cannot understand that it turned into so much aggression. I asked him why he did that and then he completely lost it again.’ Would things have been different had Riquelme not tired and been replaced by Pekerman? Even a tired Riquelme can still do the unexpected. It was a result which would have seemed unimaginable after Germany’s first two matches.
Desperate for a successor as manager to Rudi Völler, whose team had failed wretchedly in 2004 in Portugal at the European Championship, the Germans had turned to another famous striker of the past in Jürgen Klinsmann. This, though Klinsmann was based in California and commuted to Germany. Nor did he endear himself to the critics with his unorthodox appointments of assistants from outside the world of football. Results were alarming. A 4–1 defeat by Italy in a Florentine friendly. A wretched performance just before the tournament began in a friendly with Japan, who might well, in the opinion of German reporters, have scored six times rather than twice, and who deserved far more than the 2–2 draw they conceded when t
he Germans scored two late goals. There was little more cause for optimism after Germany’s first World Cup match against modest Costa Rica. True, they won 4–2, but their defence looked inept, the tactics were criticised by the talented captain, Michael Ballack, and one of the few consolations was the form of the attacking, right-footed left-back, Bayern Munich’s 22-year-old Philipp Lahm.
There would, however, be a sea change after Germany defeated Ecuador —another Latin American team, admittedly, of no great substance—3–0, when what might be called their Polish pair of attackers, Lukas Podolski and Miroslav Klose, suddenly became incisive. Where Podolski had missed numerous chances in the previous game against Poland—where both men were born—now he put them away, and his newly found confidence reflected the new self-belief of the team as a whole. Klose, whom one had seen score those three goals in Japan against Saudi Arabia, only to fade from international view thereafter, now emerged as a striker of power and menace. He and Podolski had the game against Sweden in the second round won in a dozen minutes.
Of Germany’s World Cup organisation, presided over by the ubiquitous Franz Beckenbauer, who had won the trophy both as player and manager, it should be said that it was an outstanding success, making one all the more grateful to that elderly New Zealander who had prevented the competition going to South Africa. A country from which, on the eve of the 2006 tournament, came dire stories of communications chaos, raising serious doubts whether they would be capable in time of playing hosts to a competition suffering, beyond doubt, from an extreme case of gigantism.