Yeah, Christiano got terrific service for his style of play at ManU. So did Rooney. A 40-game season allows savvy management to figure out how to maximize the skills of each individual (Vidic, van der Saar, Scholes, Giggs, Carrick also got to shine, ja?) — and create a powerhouse 11-man threat.

Aguirre’s done well with that internationally, I’d say. And Marwijk. Brazil and Germany always seem to excel on the world stage. But England was a discouraged team before they hit the pitch. USA has consistency issues (less-famous players try to get the ball to the big names instead of just playing it). Portugal, as I said, thought they could prevail by feeding the ball to their superstar — so their opposition just had to close down C.R. and dispossess him, and Portugal was likely to go down.

As for France, I will point out that the nation’s highest hopes were actually on non-EPL players Gourcuff and Ribery, both of whom failed to deliver, and that the manager’s resistance to putting non-EPL stars Cisse and Henry on the pitch may well have hurt their chances.

Of course this theory is shot to shit by the wonderful play of Carlos Tevez, Dirk Kuyt, and even Javier Mascherano.

I didn’t see that piece you mention, but I did catch a single episode of a “Famous Rivalries” series on FSC. The rivalry under discussion that night was England/Germany. Pretty darn interesting, and lots of drama and baggage from the past — both on the pitch and off.

Well, fingers crossed. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.

I was already for England and they’ve really irked during the group stage, but I saw a sky news piece on the last few decades of English humiliation by the Sons of Herrman. What really was shocking was the German fans and players trash talking. So smug and smarmy. I know WWII been over a longtime but I’ve worked with and been taught by people with #’s tatooed on their arms and Germans just aren’t allowed to talk shit!
So, Remember Dunkirk and Coventry, or better yet, Remember Dresden and BOMB GERMANY!

The thing about those veteran skill sets, they’re all about smarts and instincts. Veterans can read the game, anticipate balls, put themselves in the right place at the right time, nail penalties and fake out the opposition. They can’t provide lightning bursts down the field, baffle defenders with their springy-leg footwork or bounce back from a terrible tackle.

The crowds, the media, the pressure can sometimes blindside youngsters, leaving them dazed and confused in the midst of a field. They’re more likely to take their eye off the ball for a moment, or just tune out for a sec. Managers worry that their less-experienced players won’t be able to sustain their focus for 90 minutes — but they need to remember that vets don’t have 90 minutes of 110% in them physically.

I hope Aguirre brings on Blanco for a short, sweet burst when the Argentines have already burned off a few calories and Dos Santos has already put the fear of God in them once or twice. As for the Argentines, their qualifying campaign was so touch and go, I think they think they have something to prove. Add that to a damn good squad (along with the most… colorful, shall we say? manager). If Argentina are on their game and Mexico brings it to them with attacking football and wide play, that match will be a cracker.

And they got a game of games for their time and attention. Though you’re right that baseball is America’s #1 fave, people seem unwilling to apply the diamond’s “what the ref says, goes” standard to the football pitch. So, for a change, and for the better, viewers came to this matc with some emotional baggage and sense of history. That last goal in the last game should’ve stood. The refs are getting in wrong. We’re being screwed, cheated — we should have more points!

And before their eyes, it starts happening again. Every mis-called foul or offsides gets them more riled, more involved. Then Dempsey’s 23rd minute goal is disallowed, and it’s not the right call. O-M-G. We’re going to be human error-ed out of our rightful place in the tournament!

By now, the swollen ranks of the American viewing public are collectively chafing against the bonds of tight calls and the cruelty of the game. But their team doesn’t wilt, doesn’t crumble, doesn’t throw in the towel. The brave boys out there playing for America and apple pie take it on the chin and keep fighting, harder and sweeter with every minute. Chances come, chances go, Algeria threatens, America is denied, denied, denied again.

It’s hopeless, infuriating, a lousy raw deal. The just-watching-’cause-its-USA demographic is about to chuck footy out the window forever and aye –

And then it happened. The game delivered what only footy can. With the fates of 4 nations hanging in the balance of the world’s most gigantic and important sporting competition, in the last dying seconds of the match, Landon Donovan, Captain America — a man in his 3rd WC try, the nation’s footballer icon, the one face the media has managed to get into everyone’s consciousness by plastering it all over the place and connecting it with products — races to the box from f-king nowhere and slots home a ball we had already dismissed as a lost cause. An American hero is born. A nation is united in relief, astonishment, euphoria, elation and spontaneous celebration.

It was orgasmic. People like orgasmic. Footy just upped its charisma by plenty. That’s my theory, anyway. And I’m sticking to it.