Neither Here Nor There

Danmark, delig Danmark… farvel, farvel.

I know it’s breaking young Sorcha Fatooh’s heart, but the Japanese caught the Danes out not once, but twice in quick succession –  two stunning free kicks before 20 minutes were gone.  It would’ve been plenty to put them through, even after Denmark (barely) equalized on a penalty kick, but Japan snagged another goal before the end, leaving the score a definitive 3-1 in their favor.

Playing on the same pitch that was England keeper Robert Green’s bane, the Danes’ man-in-goal could do nothing to keep Honda’s sweetly-struck 30-yard free kick from crossing both the wall and the line, and he was caught wrong-footed for Endo’s curling effort minutes later.  “Now, there’s a team that’s figured out how to control the Jabulani ball,” I remarked to my hubby as the Danes stared shell-shocked at the jumping-for-joy mounds of embracing, ululating Japanese.

I had that righter than I realized.  According to Owen Gibson, writing for the UK Guardian, the Jabulani ball is used in the J-League.  Familiar with its idiosyncrasies, Okada’s squad was able to deliver those soaring, dipping, utterly dramatic long balls from distance that have been so sadly lacking in the competition till now.

In the first minutes, it looked like Denmark was going for it, while Japan was content to play for the draw.  Noting Denmark’s too rooted, too static defense, Japan switched their policy to shoot-on-sight.  They impressed every time they swept forward, and they swept forward at will and just because they could.  They were aggressive, courageous, cunning and precise; their attack-minded football not only rewarded Japan with a decisive win and a place in the Sweet 16, it gave fans and neutral viewers alike top-notch, top-drawer entertainment.

Denmark’s previous matches (with Holland and Cameroon) had probably gone to plan.  Against Japan, the composition of the the Danish squad (a few young/ promising players (Bendtner, Erikson), a few young/ not-so experienced players (Ennevoldson, Kjaer) and a few experienced/ slowing-down players (Rommedahl, Tomasson, Gronkjaer) caused Danish Dynamite to sputter and fizzle.  It was Soccer Nippon Daihyō that ignited on the pitch.

Sorry, Sorcha, but even the disappointed Danes admit it — the better team won.

What a weird game.   They tried to market it as “Brother against Brother,” because of the 1/2-sibling relationship between Kevin Prince (Ghana) and Jerome (Germany) Boateng.

But that wasn’t it at all.  It was more like Ghana against themselves.

FIFA has instituted simultaneous starts to these last group matches, with the intention of preventing teams from playing for specific results and encouraging them to play to win.  It’s a good idea, and I think it helps, but with high-tech inventions like the radio and cell phone, info about the other match in the group is certainly being passed around the stadium nevertheless, and leaking onto the pitch.

I imagine that’s why the end of this match was so listless, and simultaneously so terribly tense.  With the Australia/Serbia score so far in their favor but time still on the clock, the Black Stars couldn’t decide if they should aim for the top of the table or just see out the game.  Their opponents were happy with the scoreline (0-1 to Germany) and afraid to do anything.  At the moment, both teams were going through to the last 16.  Nobody wanted to press their luck, nobody wanted to jinx it.  The players were still moving around the pitch, but the game had come to a standstill.

The match ended… and didn’t.  It wasn’t till the Australia/Serbia result was known that winter passed, the ice melted and Özil’s goal could be appreciated for what it was — a lovey bit of skill.