World Cup Memories: Germany '06

Germany '06
Erika and I were in Europe in the latter part of the tournament. I had actually scored two tickets for a game through the lottery: Ukraine vs Tunisia. Yea, I know, whoop-de-doo, but the whole experience was very educating. Here's what it taught us: If you're going to a World Cup game, plan on arriving at the stadium a good three hours before kick-off time. I kid you not.

We were on the train into Berlin the same day, and when we got off, we looked at the clock, and judged that we had a few hours to find our hostel and to get in the seats before the national anthems. Oh, boy. We were wondering around south Berlin trying to find the bloody hostel in the first place, and by the time we checked in, and legged it back onto the subway, we were sweating like pigs. But that wasn't the end of it, we actually arrived at the Berlin Stadium with time to spare, but found that we had to run two miles around the stadium to get our tickets, and would have had to run two miles back to the gates just to get in when some nice security guards let us in the media entrance. By then, the anthems were done and the game had started, but we did managed to catch most of it.

The Ukraine had to win or tie to be sure of progress, we were in nose-bleed seats, next to a nervous young Ukranian who kept chewing nails, and kindly pointed out Shevchenko for us as I couldn't make out numbers.

This is us in Berlin Stadium, looking pretty jaded from all that running

Being in Germany for this World Cup, we were hosted by the German/Irish family of an exchange student we knew, and the atmosphere was amazing, the Germans were so pumped up, as any nation would be, at one point, making our way through central Berlin, we were swept up in a stream of fans singing their hearts out, on their way to watch a game on the big screen in the city's heart, it was awesome. Our hosts were telling us, this was the first time since the second world war, that the German people dared to be so patriotic, once again they were unfurling their flags and singing their songs about Klinsmann et al. It seemed like a really good time to experience Germany, and we thoroughly enjoyed our visit.

Anyway....I'm sorry to say, we were on a train in the Czech Republic at the same time that England lost to Portugal, so that dulled the pain somewhat. Cristiano Ronaldo, my latest source of hatred due to his starring role scoring goals and diving for Manchester United, became the national focus of enmity after this dual provocation (note the wink at 1:26):



The devil incarnate is now featured in the latest Nike commercial, and I sure hope he finds the same form he did in Germany '06. What, you didn't notice how few goals he scored? 1 goals in 6 games, and it was a penalty against Iran *snicker*. UPDATE: Looks like he's having trouble once again.

My mate Palfie was at the game, and he was kind enough to re-live the penalties with me, as he made a video on his camera. We both sat there in the pub with our beers, compatriots in misery. Though Jamie missed his second penalty (he was asked to retake it), I'm still excited he might be back in the squad, because he was the best penalty-taker at the time.

The two best games of the group stages were the first one, where Germany beat Costa-Rica in a six-goal thriller:



It wasn't really over until Frings scored one of the best goals in the tournament. I wonder where Wanchope is now, you could pick out his gangly stride from a mile away.

The second was when Australia beat Japan in a 3-1 comeback. Tim Cahill was substituted on with ten minutes to go, and scored the two goals for Australia to seal it in an exciting finish:



I was rooting for Australia because of Harry Kewell, I should do a "Where are they now?" segment for all these ex-Premier-league footballers I keep seeing in these videos.

The world was introduced to the neanderthal charms of Carlos Hirsute Tevez in this tournament, and I spent much of my time deriding his appearance: "He must handball a lot if he's dragging his knuckles like that?!"



I remember the Portugal-Holland game, notably for the combination of atrocious refereeing, letting the game get out of control, and the sniping by both sides, which led to then Barcelona club team-mates, Deco and van Bronckhorst, sharing a step after both having been sent off. It was an amusing sight of a friendship between supposed enemies in the midst of the game, you can see it right at the end of this video:



Technically, I think they were supposed to go back to the dressing room, but given the environment, they just thought "screw it" and sat there.

Erika and I were in a pub near the hostel for the Mexico-Argentina game. There were two Mexicans who'd made the long trip for their team, and everyone was rooting for Mexico with them, it seemed wonderful when Mexico had a fast start, but they couldn't hold on, and it just made us hate Argentina all the more when Rodriguez looped his goal in. The Mexicans were humble about it, seeming to say, "Ah well, it was Argentina after all" and they went on to sing a song for the entire pub, a kind of hispanic ballad of loss, and the Germans loved them and bought them lots of beer. Note to self: sing something when your team loses.



Australia threatened to be the surprise, taking Italy almost all the way in the round of 16, and the irony would have been so sweet, why? Check out the Australian coach. Yup, Guus Hiddink, architect of the Italian downfall at the hands of the Koreans, was at it again.



And so, we come to the final, and Zidane's header. No, I don't mean the headbutt, I mean the header. It seemed strange to me that nobody nowhere in all I read would connect an open header that Zidane missed, with his response to being provoked by Materazzi, they were only 6 minutes apart, check it out at the 1:18 mark. I remember seeing the replay of Zidane's response to that miss, he was furious, he just stood there and shouted. In my mind, Zidane, in his last ever game for France, and rueing such a great chance with 15 minutes left of extra time, was replaying the header in his head when Materazzi spoke up.