Tuesday, June 18
Dutch love affair is over
Down to London for the final Group A match between England and the Netherlands.
The pundits favor a tie, Dennis Bergkamp — the scourge of England in World Cup qualifying — promises to turn Arsenal teammate Tony Adams inside out, and the English want to stay at Wembley for the duration.
Excitement in the capital is palpable. England soccer shirts that were shoved to the back of the closet after the Switzerland match, are now worn with pride. And unless you’ve been in a coma or suffering from TV deprivation, you’ve seen Paul Gascoigne’s goal against Scotland from every conceivable angle.
The crowd has arrived at Wembley early, although there’s a distinctly genteel feel to the fans.
But first, Group B must be decided, both matches having the 4:30 p.m. timeslot with the England game grabbing primetime.
ITV plumps for France-Bulgaria, who only need to tie each other to reach the last eight, while Spain has to beat Romania and hope that France beats Bulgaria.
Which is exactly what happens.
Sweeper Laurent Blanc pops up with a header after 20 minutes, striker Luboslav Penev (whose only credential for being on the field is that he’s the coach’s nephew) indulges on that time-honored art of helping out the defense and scores a peach of an own goal in the 63rd.
Hristo Stoichkov keeps things interesting by curling a free kick past Bernard Lama six minutes later, but Bulgaria is really a one-man team. France striker Patrice Loko — with a lovely approach on goal and a sweet finish to match –sends the Bulgarians home on the wrong end of a 3-1 scoreline.
But not all the French are happy. Stoichkov, whose main verbal contribution on the field is usually repetitions of the word “puta,” is accused of racism.
“In the first 20 minutes, he made racist comments toward me and the other African players on the team,” says Ghana-born Marcel Desailly. “I do not consider Stoichkov to be a great player any more and I don’t take anything from my battle with him. He was saying black this and black that.”
“It’s normal,” protests Stoichkov. “If you took a microphone onto the field you would find it was happening everywhere.”
Race is also an issue with the Netherlands. Guus Hiddink was angered at a photo of a players’ barbecue that appeared in a Dutch paper, showing the white players at one table and the black ones at another. The team apparently does not mix, and there is dissension in the camp.
Edgar Davids, sent home after criticizing Hiddink, only served to illustrate the fact that the black players are not consulted on team issues, ranging from tactics to timetables.
And it’s a very disjointed Dutch team that takes the field at Wembley. It’s clear very early on that the Dutch aren’t really up for the match.
England, on the other hand, is. The Dutch have serious problems with Steve McManaman, who’s now given a roving role. Gascoigne plays a deep-lying role that confuses the defense, but it’s Paul Ince who does the damage early on, when he races into the penalty area and is tripped by Danny Blind. Alan Shearer converts from the spot.
The Dutch battle gamely in attack, but England really enjoys an enchanted evening. Five minutes after the break, Gascoigne, plays a deep ball from the left and Teddy Sheringham beats his marker Aron Winter to make it 2-0 with a header just inside the near post.
Alan Shearer makes it 3-0 ending a beautiful move that begins with Gascoigne tearing into the box and laying the ball square to Sheringham, who fakes a shot and lays the ball off to Shearer, who smacks the ball past Edwin Van Der Sar.
In the 63rd minute, McManaman’s shot is blocked by Van Der Sar, but Sheringham races in to drill home the rebound and England is 4-0 ahead.
The Dutch fans can’t believe it. The brass bands, who have come dressed as milkmaids sit in stunned silence, while England fans party around the other three-quarters of the stadium.
The news isn’t good from Villa Park, where Scotland leads Switzerland 1-0. If the scores stay the same, the Dutch are out.
Fortunately for Hiddink, substitute Patrick Kluivert’s 75th-minute strike, coolly slotted through the legs of David Seaman makes it 4-1 and the Dutch go through by virtue of scoring more goals than Scotland, despite both teams sharing a goal difference of minus-1.
“In defense, offense and scoring opportunities we were outplayed,” says a subdued Hiddink after the match.
There’s nothing subdued about the England fans, who embark on a massed chorus of the Britpop anthem and England Euro ’96 song “Three Lions On A Shirt (Football’s Coming Home)” after the final whistle. Fans make their way back the West End, where they celebrate into the small hours in the fountains of Trafalgar Square.
What the victory does from a soccer perspective is even clearer. The media has had a love affair with all things Dutch for a couple of years now: from the youth schools at Ajax, through the European Cup and culminating with a 2-0 win over Ireland in Liverpool last December.
This time the pupils have given the masters a lesson.
Wednesday, June 19
Italian joy is shortlived
There’s only one story in England this morning.
“Tramplin’ Through The Tulips,” says The Sun. “Land of Hope and Glory” is the Mirror’s imaginative leader and the heavies lead with “England’s Night of Rapture” (The Independent ) and “England’s Dreams All Come True” in The Guardian . Lest we forget, “England’s heroes” were branded as “Cuckoo Clots” 10 days ago.
And they’re not buying into the adulation either.
“I don’t care if I score a hat trick in the final, I still won’t talk to any of those ****s,” Gascoigne reportedly tells FA officials when he’s requested for the mixed zone.
Back to the Northwest and Manchester for the decisive Group C clash between Germany and Italy.
Again, this is a tight group with any number of permutations seeing two teams through. Some of them are of the airborne bacon variety, but not even Germany, with two wins from two matches, is entirely certain of reaching the quarterfinals.
First, however, Group D wraps up in Nottingham and Sheffield. At the City Ground, Croatia coach Miroslav Blazevic drops seven starters for his team’s match against Portugal.
Croatia has already qualified with six points, but Blazevic’s logic is strange.
“I think the German kind of game is preferable for us,” he says after his team is stuffed 3-0 by Portugal.
“I don’t get it,” says defender Slaven Bilic in his column in the Daily Telegraph. “No way. He wanted us to play Italy because we beat them in qualifying and we know their game.”
But Italy is going home. A 2-1 loss to the Czech Republic in its second match leaves Arrigo Sacchi needing a result against the Germans.
Things begin encouragingly for the Italians with Pierluigi Casiraghi and Gianfranco Zola teasing a makeshift German defense. In the eighth minute, a slip by Matthias Sammer allows Casiraghi a clean run at goal. He’s tripped by German goalie Andy Koepke in the box, and referee Guy Goethals, son of famous Belgian coach Raymond Goethals, points to the spot.
Amazingly, Koepke stays on and adds insult to injury by saving Zola’s penalty kick. Koepke makes a series of excellent saves and earning MasterCard man of the match awards.
Italy assaults the German goal with its best performance of the tournament, but it can’t find the net even with the 68th-minute dismissal of Thomas Strunz for a second bookable offense.
The news from Liverpool is encouraging, though. Russia has rebounded from 2-0 down to lead the Czech Republic 3-2. The Italians in the Stretford End go berserk, but their joy is short-lived: Vladimir Smicer hits a last-minute equalizer.
At Old Trafford, the German fans begin to gloat. “Auf Wiedersehen” rings out from the German end as the game grinds to a 0-0 tie. Paolo Maldini leaves the field in tears, and red-eyed Italy fans depart to their tour buses for the long journey home.
“These players definitely deserved better,” says a pale Sacchi afterward. “We played good soccer and the only match we lost came when we had to play a second half with 10 men against 11. Today I think we deserved to win.”
“You can blame many things,” said Roberto Donadoni. “But if the goalkeeper had been sent off, at least he wouldn’t have been the one to save the penalty.
“Unfortunately, our destiny is always linked with penalties.”
“Sacchi will stay as long as I am president,” says Italian federation chief Antonio Matarrese.
Cold comfort — Matarreses’s term as president ends this fall.
Friday, June 21
Spaniards aren’t laughing about tabloid coverage
The Sun with its customary sensitivity toward all things foreign, led yesterday’s paper with “Bye-Bye Eyeties — Sacchi left feeling Sicky,” but it has turned its attention to “The Lads” and their quarterfinal clash with Spain.
“Give ‘Em A Spainking!” is another measured headline. The paper has supplied a paper face-mask for readers to place on their faces during Saturday’s games.
Some of the tabloid coverage has been as offensive as humanly possible. The Mirror, in its list of Top 10 Spanish contributions to civilization, nominates Syphilis as No. 1. Another, in an article of anti-Spanish jokes, asks, “Why do Spanish men have moustaches? To look like their mothers.”
German newspaper Die Zeit runs a lengthy think piece entitled, “The Art of hatred” about the xenophobic nature of the coverage.
To the Brits, stories of this nature are bread and butter. There are about a dozen national newspapers all vying for their piece of the marketplace. The more sensationalist the headline, be it sex, sport or politics, the more papers they sell.
Yet there is never any danger of them overestimating the intelligence of their readership. In a face-painting story (“Let’s do some Spainting”) Sun readers are cautioned against using household paint on their faces.
The Spaniards aren’t laughing.
“We won’t have much support,” says coach Javier Clemente, who’s battling with his own media. “It will be 2,000 of us against 70,000 drunks at Wembley … Because of all the bad words said about us, it is now a matter of national pride for us to win.”
“We just can’t understand the sensationalism of the newspapers here,” says Julio Salinas. “But whatever they think of us. England are not that good:
They’ve only played well once, against Holland and in the other games were poor.”
Saturday, June 22
Better lucky than good
Back to Anfield for the France-Netherlands game, where I catch the England-Spain game, billed by Marca as “the brave bulls against the mad cows,” in the media center.
Seats are at a premium as everyone gathers around the dozen or so TV sets in the Kemlyn Lounge.
Despite a rousing start by the home team, there’s to be no Spainking today. Alan Shearer misses a couple of golden opportunities, but it quickly becomes apparent that the Spanish are unlikely to offer England anywhere near as much room as the Dutch did. The Spanish press, and England loses possession spending the next 110 minutes fighting a rearguard action.
Spain has a couple of goals called back for offside — the second by Salinas looks awfully like a goal.
“Don’t worry — it’s offside!” cries TV commentator Barry Davies, a shrill voice that teeters on the brink of insanity.
In the second half, Spain has a couple of legitimate penalty appeals turned down — Tony Adams pushes Jose Luis Caminero over and Gascoigne brings down Alfonso.
“That’s cheating!” yells Barry. Marc Batta, the referee, agrees — and awards Alfonso a yellow card.
The tension mounts in the press room. Spain is clearly the superior team, but can’t seem to find a route to goal. And when it does, David Seaman is there.
The golden goal applies after 90 minutes, but overtime turns into a golden slumber. There’s no score, so we go to penalties.
England nets all its penalty kicks, but there’s an audible groan when Stuart Pearce — the goat of Turin at Italia ’90 — steps up to take the third kick. Pearce scores and proceeds to go mad, yelling “Come On!” and removing his shirt in ultra-macho celebration.
Fernando Hierro blasts the first Spanish effort against the crossbar, the following two go in, then Seaman saves Miguel Angel Nadal’s spot kick. A roar goes up in the press box, but that’s nothing compared to the scenes at Wembley. Barry is beside himself, but most of us know that today England is lucky.
However, as the saying goes, right now they’d rather be lucky than good.
Sunday, June 23
England readies for Germany showdown
To Manchester, where the scalpers dodge the police and try to divest themselves of extra tickets. This is clearly no easy task: two hours before kickoff $75 seats are going for $40, and the price is falling fast.
Old Trafford is two-thirds full, the Bad Blue Boys of Dinamo Zagreb form a pocket of about 600 in one corner of the stadium. Cries of “Hrvatsa” alternate with the American chant “Let’s Go Croatia, let’s go,” before and during the game.
The PA announcer tries to jolly up the crowd by getting a German fan to sing a bilingual version of “One Juergen Klinsmann!” but there’s little enthusiasm.
It has a talismanic effect: Klinsmann limps off after 30 minutes with a calf injury, and the match is dismal stuff.
Postgame, Miroslav Blazevic is defiant, Zvonimir Boban pouts and Klinsmann is either suffering from a severe cold or he’s fighting back the tears when he says he probably won’t play at Wembley in the semifinal.
This is good news for the English media. Klinsmann is the one German they like, and Spain, for all its moaning, got off lightly (sample headlines:
“Goale,” “Nice Juan, Tel!” “We Kicked ‘Em In The Castanets!” and “Seaman Sinks Spanish Armada!”)
For Germany, the gloves will come off. Someone, somewhere on Fleet Street is busy stenciling a spiked helmet onto a mugshot of Berti Vogts, and we await a three-day orgy of jingoistic Kraut-bashing, with numerous references to a war that ended 51 years ago.
And these days, the only Nazi salutes come from England and Croatia fans. Ironic, isn’t it?
At Villa Park, Portugal dominates the Czech Republic for 45 minutes, then loses the plot, the lead and its cool as it crashes out of the tournament to a beautiful goal by Karel Poborsky, who dribbles around three defenders, spots Vitor Baia off this line and gently lofts the ball into an empty net. Czech, mate! is my guess for tomorrow’s headline.
by Soccer America Senior Editor Duncan Irving