A sensible train of thought would be that being England have failed to qualify for this year’s tournament then really it should be cancelled. And if not cancelled, at the least be ignored by our Anglo populous.
God bless the News Of The World for giving away a free Panini sticker book a couple of weeks, I would never have known who was playing otherwise. These things generally tend to be laboured when a person has no emotional involvement. Personal feelings aside, it is a lowly year when there is not the summer football tournament in place to serve as an excuse for a drunken distraction and opportunity to be respectfully xenophobic.
Today in England there is misery. The rain is pouring cats and dogs and it is reflective of a national in mourning, missing out on a summer of football focus. The media is making token gestures, working the flimsiest of angles into articles and features to nudge our (dis)interest but it feels doomed to failure.
Whereas today I might have been gearing up to buy a new widescreenflatscreen fuck off giant TV to watch the finals on, instead I find myself purchasing a Nintendo Wii for my parents with our amusement dollar.
Also it is my friend’s 42nd birthday and she has escaped to Malawi – the most extreme effort/gesture to avoid these finals seen.
Indeed in an explicit act of defiance this evening I instead find myself battling the rain and trawling up to London for an afternoon of drinking and a night of comedy. For whatever reasons, David Cross is in town and he is not to be missed. Not to be missed even for……
Switzerland vs Czech Republic as today’s opener. Following the opening ceremony of course, it is hardly a fixture to inspire. The ceremony is indeed great, the result of a colourful mind seemingly cheesily influenced by a chemical imbalance and possibly a tendency to pedophilia. There are no chimps driving little cars but there is a LOT of red, a funny looking woman that is Miss Switzerland and many many puppets. Fortunately (or unfortunately) it doesn’t last too long but it is what it is.
On the field Switzerland (or Helvetia) do not look as if it will cause anyone any problems in this competition. There is little legacy attached to their side’s performances over the years and you suspect that were they not co-hosts they would not be in this competition. When your best known player is a defender (Philippe Senderos) how are you expected to score a lot of goals?
The Czech Republic on the other hand have been promising as sleeping giants of soccer for over a decade now. Up front they still boast the terrifying sight of Jan Koller, albeit a few years older, and maintain a number of a familiar names in their squad including Milan Baros and Tomas Rosicky. This is probably not the greatest Czech (Cseka Republika) side in recent memory but certainly one that will cause problems. Having been in the same group as Ireland and Wales, some scorn should be directed towards them from these shores for eliminating home nation sides and reducing our collective interest in the championship.
Obviously being out I missed the opener so bullshitting my way through after seeing a few seconds sprayed over the news, predictably the downbeat victory for the Czech Republic comes as no surprise. It did appear that Cech was busy and often troubled but otherwise there are no surprises. Watching the goal via Youtube (God bless Youtube) it came from scrappy defending with a hint of offside and goalkeeper Benaglio putting minimal effort into stopping the shot or challenging the attack, remaining on his feet like a plum and a lemon. Sverkos did however take his opportunity well, meaning all ended right with the world.
Perhaps most noticeable about the game was Switzerland’s captain Alexander Frei doing his own personal tribute to the sectioning of Gazza as he limps off in tears with a knee injury almost definitely ending his Euro 2008.
More interesting was the Portugal v Turkey fixture. With Ronaldo currently acting like a common prostitute and memories of his antics two years ago still leaving a bad taste with scars, choosing a side to support in this match proves near impossible for any decent Englishman. Obviously all the smart money was always going to be put on Portugal and the highlights show Portugal dominating the game, rattling the Turkish woodwork time after time including one of Ronaldo’s now Jonny Wilkinson-esqe (ie fucking poncy) dead ball efforts. Gomes’ efforts however prove far more spectacular and worthy.
Both the Portuguese goals come from impressive and direct moves that significantly upped their status in my mind as they achieve their supposed potential and justify hype. The first goal came from Pepe in the 61st minute and when Raul Meireles added a second very late it better reflects the weight of the game and leaves Scolari giggling at his decision not to take the England job in the end.
In the end though, after an afternoon session in Chandos and a fine meal at Wagamama, the comedy turns out to be far superior to the football as The Fix host an amazing lineup at the 100 Club. Adam Buxton compared an evening that opened with Rich Fulcher (Bob Fossil from The Mighty Boosh) and took in a laboured set by Stewart Lee, consisting mainly of analyzing a comedy record by Franklyn Ajaye. The night was headlined by the legend that is David Cross who never fails to disappoint, even when he is performing in front of a crowd of baying Sleater-Kinney fans. Mixing new/current material with some “classics” his quick fire set was over far too soon but not before toying with the concept and ignorance of racist pedophiles and how good champagne would just be wasted on a six year old anyway. I did not like his new beard though.
At the end of the evening boarding the 11.48 train out of Liverpool Street is a nightmare. At one point I am woken by some old bag sat opposite attempting to steal my News Of The World. From this point I never regain my ability to fall asleep, instead enduring a couple of skanks sat next to me, the blonde one of which proceeds to fart her way through the journey home and I swear more times than once they point to me as the culprit.
When I eventually read the newspaper home it is only a first edition featuring just the Switzerland v Czech Republic game and I am shocked by the picture/photo of Philippe Senderos seemingly heading the ball to the point it has burst. Did that really happen?
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