These matches will be remembered not for their smoldering rivalry (Germany/ England) or fiery action (Argentina/ Mexico) on the playing field, but for their incendiary effect on the already-hot video technology controversy raging off the pitch.
Down a goal in the 39th minute, Frank Lampard’s blistering shot from just outside the 18-yard box came off the crossbar and bounced well within the goal before returning to the bar and deflecting onto the goal line, where it was finally collected by the German keeper. Even so, England went into the break still a goal down, as neither the referee nor the official on the touchline saw the finish the cameras caught quite plainly.
The score was 0 – 0 in the 2nd match of the day, when Carlos Tevez opened the scoring by heading a strike from Messi into Mexico’s net. Though the replay clearly showed Tevez standing miles offside when Messi directed the ball goal-ward, it was now 1 – 0 to Argentina on the scoreboard.
Some might argue (and many have) that as the matches weren’t won by a single goal (final scores were Germany 4 – 1 England / Argentina 3 – 1 Mexico), the erroneous calls are moot. Clearly the Three Lions and El Tricolor didn’t have it in them to beat the German Team and Albicelestes, respectively. If Lampard’s goal had counted, if Argentina hadn’t been awarded the first goal of the match, England and Mexico still would have lost — so get over it.
The problem with that argument is that it fails to take the psychology of the game into account. In a sport where a fair percentage of the matches end in ties and 1 – 0 is a ubiquitous and quite respectable result, taking the lead is simultaneously a tremendous advantage to the team that scores and a tremendous onus for the trailing team to bear.
All goals are not created equal. In any football game and at every level, the first goal has a massive influence on the dynamic of the match and its final result. When that goal is scored, and how, and by whom has a profound effect on when and how the next goal is scored, and indeed, if there’s another goal in the game at all.
Imagine for a moment you are a phenomenally talented footballer who plays for your country. Now imagine what you have to do, mentally and emotionally, in order to step out in front of 80,000+ live fans and a video and e-audience that spans the globe. Imagine carrying the hopes, dreams and expectations of your entire nation on your shoulders, and remember that your own lifelong hopes and dreams hang in the balance. Add in your team’s history and its previous interactions with the opposition. Throw a huge helping of media attention into the mix — the no-holds-barred articles, headlines, pics and clips that have been lifting you and your team onto a divinity-height pedestal or ripping you both a new one.
Got it? Now play your heart out for 30 minutes while your blood-brother teammates do the same. Keep your side in the game against your bitter, brilliant rivals by giving it everything you’ve got. Keep the bookies’ favorites at bay by playing some of the best football you’ve ever played in your life.
And now… imagine your opponents are suddenly, inexplicably awarded a phantom goal. Imagine you are denied a goal you have legitimately earned.
It happens all the time. Decisions like these are not moot, not in the least. Erroneous calls dramatically and unquestionably affect a game’s outcome.
Every minute Mexico stayed level and Argentina failed to score tipped the scales incrementally in Mexico’s favor. Had England been allowed their equalizing goal, the boost to their confidence could well have freed up their game. If they’d gone into half-time level, they’d have gone in exultant — we are that good, we can stop them — while Germany would have gone in with their confidence shaken, only to get reamed by their manager for having lost their lead.
Had these controversial calls not stood, would it have altered the results of the games? Perhaps not. Would it have altered our chances of seeing different results? Absolutely.
Fans, players, commentators — the footy community at large is well aware that poor decisions have a profound impact on the game. FIFA’s rigid reticence to employ goal-line technology and end these mishaps has everyone up-in-arms. “All” other sports use cutting-edge tech to get the officiating right, so the pundits claim (though, in truth, decisions in America’s beloved baseball are made by 100% human referees). It’s time, they say, footy joined the tech-friendly club.
The application of more advanced technologies to the officiating side of the game is inevitable. The advent of the instant replay has fueled our innate hunger for accuracy and justice, for seeing effort fairly rewarded and glory appropriately bestowed. Some sort of technical assistance is mere moments away. Me… well, I’m not in any hurry for high-tech referee’s assistants to be introduced to the beautiful game.
In truly old tales, a hero was not only handsome and brave, daring and clever. He was the the guy with the luck. Luck was a quality — like straight teeth or curly hair. Luck burst from a hero’s brow in a dazzling splay of light. You could see it in his eyes, feel it in his handshake, hear it in his voice.
One of the things that first attracted me to footy was the way the gods got involved in the game and Lady Luck played her part. Fortune is a palpable, visible, undeniable presence on the field. I’ve seen her bless one set of goalposts and curse the other. I’ve seen her set wings to the boots of some players, while turning the boots of their rivals to lead. I’ve seen her cruelly snub the same lads whom last year she favored.
Remember France, World Cup 1998? You can call it “home advantage,” but for me, it was France herself endowed her players with daring, speed and creativity they’d never shown before. Barthez in goal for that penalty shoot-out — mon dieu! what brilliance! He was truly inspired!
Luck is also manifest in the referees’ calls. What an official sees or misses, which players or teams get the benefit of his doubt, how a tackle looks from his angle… often as not, it’s a matter of luck.
Over the course of a season, good and bad calls even out. Over the course of multiple World Cups, they do the same. Last WC, the luck was on Italy. In the final seconds of their Round-of-16 match against Australia, Totti’s dive over Neill’s prone body was judged to be a foul in the box. The ref awarded the Azzurri a penalty. Totti converted from the spot. Australia went home, Italy went on to the Quarter-Finals and, eventually, to lift the Cup.
Had he consulted a video feed before making the call, the ref might have awarded Totti a yellow instead of a penalty, and Australia would have progressed. The call and result were unjust, entirely — but if the result was skewed by a dearth of technical assistance, Lady Luck balanced the scales 4 years later by sending Italy home in ignominious defeat after 3 pathetic appearances in the Group Stage.
I readily admit that poor officiating can determine the outcome of a match. I consider it part of the game. England’s loss to Germany, Mexico’s loss to Argentina was no more than they deserved — not because the calls weren’t fair, but because champions must be able to win despite bad calls and referees’ blunders. They deserved to lose, because neither the Three Lions nor El Tri-Color had the confidence or composure to seduce good Fortune back to their sides after she’d turned against them.
By next World Cup, there will be a chip in the ball — same as in the hockey pucks — I’ll lay money on it. By next World Cup we’ll know for sure whether or not it’s a goal.
I’m ok with the chip, but I doubt that will be end of it. Once they start using tech to determine the goals, they’ll need to know if it was a handball in the box, if it was a dive or a foul, if the whole of the ball crossed the touchline. Soon the officials will be stopping the game dead in its tracks to consult the TV screen, and footy will be boring as shite.
As the game stands now, it takes true character and a bit of luck to come back from 3-down at half-time and triumph in a penalty shoot-out (Liverpool v AC Milan, Champions League, 2005). The way it’s going, soon character and luck will have bugger-all to do with it.
The modern game must evolve to suit the modern world, after all, and that means bringing modern tech to the pitch. I’m resigned to it, but not happy about it. I’m a traditionalist, at heart. If I’d been alive when the FA came into existence and transformed the wild free-for-all called “football” into a regulated affair with time periods and bounded pitches and a set number of players… well, I’d have railed against the dogmatic rule-makers who had robbed the sport of its magic and lifted my pint to the anarchic melee that had been and, for me, would always be the true game.