Jul 8
I knew I would miss the first half an hour tonight as I was taking my daughter to a swim lesson. No worries I thought, this game could go the whole 120 minutes plus penalty heartbreak…. if only Brazilian hearts were to stay in one piece that long.
Half an hour. 5-0. And I missed it. A record busting game and a footballing night of great magnitude that has left all of us with a certain perception of Brazilian football and footballers in a mind boggling daze.
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Has this been the best World Cup ever? Although I have a childhood fondness for 1974 and 1978, in my lifetime it is Spain ’82 that I hold up there as my favourite World Cup.
The curtain will be drawn on Brazil 2014 on Sunday and after the sumptuous openness of the Group Stages and late drama in many of the 2nd Round matches, the Quarter’s became a lot more cagey and defensive.
If it is to be the best ever World Cup then I think we need one big game out of the three that are left. One to have us drooling in front of the telly and one that will stick in the memory forever.
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I saw David Moyes on Friday night sat in a bar in Bermuda with a couple of mates on a golfing holiday. A penny for his thoughts when Louis Van Gaal brought on Tim Krul in the final minute of extra time for the Netherlands penalty shoot out against Costa Rica.
It was a breathless finale to last night’s last quarter final and I was off my seat as the attacks swung one end to the other with both teams looking to avoid the dreaded penalties.
The Dutch’s penalty heartbreak is only second to England’s, but Van Gaal’s decision to bring on Rob Elliot’s teammate Krul was a masterstroke.
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The 2nd week has now passed at the Brazil World Cup and my life seems empty that there are no games today. If this was in America there would be some made up All Star game or something, at least to fill the gap for the television networks.
Talking of America, the USA! USA! USA! made it through and people in the States seem genuinely excited. Of course they think they are going to blow the little waffle makers away next week, but sadly I expect after Tuesday the sport named soccer will be put back in the box for four years as Americans revert back to type.
England of course have been fortunate that Luis Suarez was hungry at the same time we embarrasingly left the tournament on Tuesday, and since, all forms of media have had their attention diverted. In my mind 4 months and 9 International games is not enough. Suarez may be unhinged and need help, but the love, attention and care he got from Liverpool and the PFA last time hasn’t made one jot of difference to his character flaws.
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Or more pertinently 8 years.
8 years of cultivation, schooling and coaching dedication. All for what? Maybe half a million quid. The complete opposite scenario of why Roland Duchâtelet wants to develop the academy.
Even though I had resigned myself to Poyet leaving, it was still a kick in the knackers yesterday when the club put out the statement on their website. Another year wouldn’t have hurt would it, but that’s gratitude for you. Me and you are the only thing loyal about football clubs.
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We’ve taken down the St George in our house and my daughter has decided we are now Brazil fans. I got hold of a Brazil car flag last week at a function I was at and that now adorns the car (photo). Don’t worry, I told the kid that you can change your country, but never your team. She understands.
She was of course born in Bermuda, which appears to give you the right to support whatever country you want and more than one, as it is not unusual to see a car drive by with three or four different flags fluttering from the window.
Our landlord (house not pub) came over in the week full of the World Cup, loves it he does. “Who’s taken your fancy then,” I asked.
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That’s it then. Out of the World Cup in the Group stages for the first time since 1958. Not sure if Italy losing to Costa Rica proves how bad we are, or that it is just another crazy result in this fantastic tournament. Well done to Costa Rica, a lovely little country if you ever get a chance to visit, but the end of the road for Roy’s men and Tuesday just becomes a chance to leave Brazil with some pride restored.
Last night was cruel, the story of England in big tournaments. So near, yet so, so far. Undone again in a flash of a second. To equalise when we did and gain the momentum only for Suarez to score a killer second. I’ve said it before, that Suarez is undoubtedly a great player, but every time I see that toothy grin, a bit of the game dies for me. Was there really any need to take a swipe at the English people, those that pay his wages and have had to watch his antics since he stepped foot in our country?
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Wow, I’m loving this World Cup. A day with 11 goals and the World and European Champions dumped out of the tournament.
Spain are not the first team in the history of the World Cup Finals to have their previous invincible reputations torn to shreds by a younger and impervious generation. Chile were simply better and rattled Spain’s back line just as the Dutch did on Friday night and what odds on the Champions being out after conceding 7 goals in two games all before the first week is out?
Chile were a dark horse of mine, but it was the Netherlands I had going home with Australia not La Roja after the Group stages.
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It says something that all people really remember from South Africa 2010 is the annoying vuvuzela, but after just four days of the Brazil World Cup it is goals that is on everyone’s lips.
39 so far, more than the entire 2010 tournament and the most net busting since 1962.
Even England did their bit, despite losing on Saturday night and although disappointing it was encouraging to see us pass, move and take the game to Italy unlike in the recent past when we would attempt to bore the opposition to death.
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There has been many times when I have stared at the keyboard or stared into space with no inspiration at all, nothing.
Nothing going on at Charlton, nothing going on in the football world, nothing going on in my daily life, of particular interest to anyone else at least, nothing that I have seen on the telly or in the street that has sparked a rant. Nothing.
It happens when you write a blog and has happened to me many times during the 520 weeks of Chicago Addick.
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This is it then, no more sleeps left and the carnaval of futebol will start later tonight when Brazil kick us off against gate crashers Croatia.
My hopes as they have always been is that we see plenty of exciting games and that the world’s very best players shine on the biggest stage.
To that point, it has been a great shame to see some of the qualifiers’ best players fall to injury in the past couple of weeks. The absence of Franck Ribery, Falcao, Marco Reus, Riccardo Montolivo, Christian Benteke, Kevin Strootman and Roman Shirokov are all big losses to the tournament with Ronaldo, Suarez and Neymar all in Brazil but struggling to be fit.
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The 6th and final part of my 1974 World Cup series which I hoped stirred some old memories or told some new stories, but most of all wet the whistle for the festival of football that is about to begin this Thursday at the famous Estadio do Maracana in Rio. Thanks for taking to time to read the posts, which helped celebrate 10 years of this Blog and my 40 years as a football fan.
1974 World Cup – Part 6
On the afternoon of Sunday, July 7th 1974 the excitement was palpable in my house as Englishman Jack Taylor blew his whistle to begin the World Cup Final between hosts West Germany and outside of Westdeutschland, everybody else’s favourite team, The Netherlands.
If you were out making a cup of tea or putting the ironing board away like my Mum was, then you were to miss the most dramatic first minute to any World Cup Final, this despite a delay to the start as ballboys put the forgotten corner flags into the ground!
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I go home tomorrow night for what was always going to be my brother’s wedding, but sadly I now have to attend my best mate’s Dad’s funeral on Wednesday as well.
The funeral will be held at Hither Green Crematorium, which will also enable me to visit my dear Nan & Grandad. Afterwards we will have a couple of beers in the Catford Cricket Club, both at the bequest of my mate’s Dad, as was banning any black clothes because as he used to say: “funerals were too depressing.” So colours it is.
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The sights and sounds and back stories to the 1974 World Cup, written to coincide with my 40th year of being obsessed by the beautiful game and 10 years of writing the Blog.
The songs, the TV panels, the rain and the fall of the Dutch.
1974 World Cup – Part 5
The 1974 World Cup song introduced us to live disco!
Polish singer Maryla Rodowicz delighted us in 1974 with her Disco rendition of the World Cup anthem. Very Abba-esque and sung in three different languages.
Part 3 of my 1974 World Cup series, written to celebrate my 10 years writing this Blog and 40 years to the month of me watching in awe men in coloured shirts kicking a football around on a tiny television screen in my front room.
1974 World Cup – Part 3
I remember almost every game was played in torrential rain and this was decades before covered seating and prawn sandwiches at half-time. For the television viewer sat at home, the soddy pitches and downpours only made the games more exciting.
It was the Dutch who starred in the 1st Round. They arrived without any kind of fanfare after struggling through the qualification stages, and having no previous Finals pedigree. The Oranje’s last appearance at a Finals was in the 1930’s, but the appointment of Barcelona manager Rinus Michels as coach just three months before the tournament was the catalyst for this momentous side of 1974.
Michels was a former Ajax coach and he built his team around the stars of the all-conquering Ajax club side and they cut a swathe through the group stages, their unique and spellbinding brand of ‘Total Football,’ had fans around the world looking on in awe and in the process won the hearts of a whole new generation of football fans.
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Part 4 of my 1974 World Cup series, which I wrote to commemorate 10 years of this Blog and 40 years to the month of me watching in awe men in coloured shirts, particularly those in orange, introducing me to the beautiful game.
1974 World Cup – Part 4
In the 2nd round Group A was comprised of Argentina, Brazil, East Germany and Holland, with the glorious East Germans now finding themselves in an impossible group despite overcoming their neighbours in the 1st Round to top Group 1.
Poland, Sweden, West Germany and Yugoslavia were in Group B and with no semi-finals, the teams who finished top of their respective groups would go straight through to the World Cup Final.
Brazil began with something approaching their old swagger, beating East Germany 1-0, then Argentina 2-1, but they were on a different planet to the Netherlands as the second stage saw the Oranje really get into gear.
My young eyes watched wide open as Cruyff was at his mercurial best. First of all they hammered Argentina 4-0 in Gelsenkirchen, then eased past the East Germans and then compounded the new world order of international football by soundly beating the Brazilians, who had Luis Periera sent off. Mind you Brazil could have had 12 men, they could not get near the Dutch as Neeskens and Cruyff scored two memorable goals to put them into the Final.
Meanwhile, in Group B slowly but surely the West Germans had finally started to click. Spurred on by an inspirational Franz Beckenbauer, they beat Yugoslavia 2-0 and Sweden 4-2 to set up a crucial decider with Poland, a match the West Germans only needed to draw.
The Poles were good though with Grzegorz Lato sublime. They looked strong in seeing off the challenges of Sweden and Yugoslavia and were yet to be defeated in the tournament and in Lato they had the Finals’ top scorer. He had scored a vital second-half winner in the 2-1 victory over Yugoslavia that brought Poland face-to-face with West Germany for a place in the final
So Netherlands’ opponents would be decided in the last group game. Torrential rain caused the kick-off to be delayed due to a waterlogged pitch, as the Frankfurt fire brigade were brought in to pump water from the quagmire. Poland’s best chances came in the first half, Robert Gadocha and the prolific Lato forcing Maier into a couple of excellent saves before Bayern Munich’s Gerd Müller snatched West Germany’s winner 14 minutes from time.
The 1974 World Cup Final was set.
In the 3rd Place play-off Poland beat a reputation-tarnished Brazilian team as Lato scored his 7th goal to confirm his golden boot status in Munich’s Olympiastadion a day before everyone’s favourites the Dutch were to take on the hosts West Germany.
To continue my look back at 40 years as a football fan, I’ve delved deep into my memory bank and researched what made the 1974 World Cup such a special time of my life. Part 2 looks at the 16 teams that made up the Finals in West Germany
1974 World Cup – Part 2
Qualification began with 98 countries, with only 14 qualifying plus the hosts West Germany and the holders Brazil. To give you some context 203 countries attempted to qualify for this summer’s World Cup, and 32 will compete in Brazil.
To commemorate my 10 years of blogging and to reminisce why I fell in love with the beautiful game 40 years ago, I’m going to tell the story of the 1974 World Cup Finals. From memory, but helped by no little research.
1974 World Cup – Part 1
West Germany was chosen as the host nation by FIFA in London, in the week leading up to the 1966 World Cup Finals, in fact hosting rights for the 1978 and 1982 tournaments were also awarded at the same time. West Germany agreed a deal with Spain by which Spain would support West Germany for the 1974 tournament, and in return West Germany would allow Spain to bid for the 1982 World Cup unopposed.
West German football had come a long way since the end of WWII. Excluded from international football until 1950, with none of the three new German states, West Germany, East Germany and Saarland accepted into the 1950 World Cup qualifiers, yet just four years later the West Germans produced one of the competition’s biggest ever shocks by winning the 1954 World Cup in Switzerland.
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During the next month this Blog will be 10 years old and I’m giving myself a pat on the back.
I remember that June Sunday evening well, sat in my apartment in Chicago juggling with Blogger’s idiot-proof yet bewildering templates to pen my first post.
Only the venerable Professor Wyn Grant has being blogging Charlton longer, although Daryl, the original inspiration for me to start still writes intelligent and punchy words here at 853.
As others will tell you blogging is often a labour of love and can be equally time consuming and frustrating. It has never been a chore though, otherwise I would have stopped. Writing has always been a release, and despite many bumps in the road, I have selfishly pushed on, writing 2,824 posts in the process but always taking great delight in knowing that many of you stop by to read my latest ramblings on whatever pops into my mind and not just the trials and tribulations of Charlton Athletic.
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I got a little buzz from the announcement of Roy Hodgson’s England squad yesterday, a teensy one anyway.
If you remember 4 years ago before South Africa, England and the FA were in right old mess, but yesterday was different. From the way Hodgson handled the reporting of the squad, to stupid questions from the press like “is this squad capable of winning it?”
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What with takeover chatter dominating yesterday I had forgotten that we are actually playing again on Saturday after what seems an almighty long break from action.
Leeds stole the points a fortnight ago, well actually Ross McCormack seized them, but we should still go to QPR Saturday in good heart, especially after winning at St Andrews last time on the road.
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Despite all of the fretting Roy Hodgson’s England made it through to the 2014 Brazil World Cup last night after beating Poland 2-0. Captain Stevie Gerrard in shades of Beckham putting a glorious end to the nail biting with a couple of minutes left.
Hodgson gets a bit of stick, but he is a media friendly steady eddie who has a fatherly relationship with players young and old and Roy did exactly what he was supposed to do and won the group, and on top of that came through 10 games undefeated.
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February 23rd, 2000. Wales were out in Qatar, helping trying to establish the game in this oil-rich land. Wales won the friendly game 1-0. A certain John Robinson was the scorer, his 3rd and final goal for the Welsh National Team.
Tonight over 13 years later in Cardiff the Addicks’ Simon Church scored with a sweet finish to give Wales a 1-0 win over Macadonia in their final home World Cup qualifier.
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I missed the England game last night because I was busy organising my socks into pairs. I find this slightly more stimulating. Yes, if Yugoslavia still had a team they would be world beaters but then again so would the Austro-Hungarian’s!
I find all the consternating quite unbelievable. I mean the writings have been on the wall. Look at the last 8 of the Champions League, watch how Manchester United are running away with the Premier League with probably the most average and workmanlike side to ever win the title since Leeds in 1992.
The top sides pockets are full of cash and long-term debt and their academies are full of African and Latin American’s. A young English manager or coach hasn’t got a cat in hells chance of a top job and our best young players can’t get a game.
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It’s been nice today not having to worry about what was going on with Charlton. My 3-year old daughter asked me earlier if I “was winning at football.” No, there’s no game I replied, why? You seem happy she said.
England even managed to wrack up an old fashioned score last night, although don’t mention this to Dave, who sounds thoroughly miserable.
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Great to see Jonjo Shelvey selected in the the England squad for the World Cup qualifiers against San Marino and Poland, they may almost now be worth watching.
Jonjo has played under four different managers at Anfield including Roy Hodgson who inherited him from Rafa Benitez. Liverpool paid an initial fee of £1.7m but since then a number of £250,000 increments have been received by the club. From memory I also think there was another add-on for an England cap.
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Leon Cort scored what was effectively the goal that put Guyana through to the next round of the CONCACAF qualifying for the 2014 Brazilian World Cup. Cort headed in after Ebbsfleet United’s Ricky Shakes got an early first leaving Trinidad & Tobago’s Kenwyne Jones’ late goal as just a consolation.
In the same group at the National Stadium Bermuda beat Barbados 2-1 and can finish 2nd if they beat the Bajan’s again on Monday and Guyana win in Port of Spain against Trinidad & Tobago, in a game that is now a dead rubber.
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In front of 3,000 fans Bermuda beat Trinidad & Tobago 2-1 on Friday night to record a famous victory. Second half goals from Antwan Russell and the excellent Bradford City’s Nahki Wells (who I mentioned the other day hasn’t played a full 90 minutes for some while) helped them to a 2-1 win over the Soca Warriors.
Bermuda pick up their World Cup Qualifying for 2014 tonight when they host Trinidad & Tobago at the National Sports Centre.
A win is the minimum Bermuda require who lost away to T&T 1-0 a month or so ago but this time around the Trinbagonians will be without many of their best players including the injured Kenwyne Jones, Ipswich winger Carlos Edwards and LA Galaxy midfielder Chris Birchall, and the Bermudian FA are encouraging fans to support the team and fill the 4,000 capacity stadium knowing there will be plenty of noisy T&T ex-pats who live and work here on the island.
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Whilst England and the rest of Europe are still concentrating on qualifying for the European Championships in Poland and the Ukraine, elsewhere around the globe countries have already started the long, long journey to Brazil 2014.
Qualifying matches have already started in Asia and the North, Central American and Caribbean region and last night in Guyana at the countries national stadium (mostly used for cricket) Bermuda were playing in a Round 2 Group B match.
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Let’s be honest if someone had told me before I went to bed Wednesday night that today Richard Murray and Charlton Athletic would accept an offer from a Peter Varney led consortium to purchase and invest in the club but England would not even make the 2nd Round of the 2018 World Cup host bid then I would have been absolutely delighted.
Peter Varney is what they call in London, SE7 ‘proper Charlton.’ A lifelong fan who in the past had worked tirelessly and unselfishly for the good of the club.
There is a strange but compulsive magnetism about being a Charlton supporter. Those that live far away or those that live across the street are emotionally drawn to the club in way that only those that have been introduced or inflicted will ever understand. Simply Peter Varney is one of us, as is Richard Murray.
One hopes that Murray and Varney can overcome any recent differences and can again work together with others to take us, if not once again to the promised land, then at least on a hopeful and exciting journey.
I felt better about myself this morning. When I looked in the mirror after another restless night’s sleep. Tired after another night out, suitcases under my eyes and more chins than a Chinese Yellow Pages I still looked a hell of a lot younger than birthday boy Parky, 43 today. Happy birthday Phil.
According to the local news Rochdale got covered in snow today and Saturday’s game must be suspect. With four games in eleven days coming up (including two televised) a postponement will not be welcome. Meanwhile the SLP is suggesting that Semedo and Racon will be offered new contracts. The Frenchman was widely expected to be sold in January to any suitors before the season started but from what I understand he is playing his best football of his Addicks career right now.
What I did miss last week was the loan deadline. The most surprising move in my mind, which appeared to go almost unnoticed was high flying Bournemouth selling their top scorer Josh McQuoid to Millwall. He’s on loan at the New Den until January when they will sign him permanently. McQuoid has scored 12 goals this season for the Cherries and with the FA still enforcing their transfer embargo on them, even the impressive Eddie Howe may have his work cut out keeping them challenging.
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Butlers Wharf, London
