“And there it is, the half time whistle, still goalless here but the defending Champions have put on a display. The only thing lacking is the ball hitting the back of the net.”
And so the second half started, and so the chances started again. The underdogs were camped in their own half but all the commentators could say were things like, “Sanchez with an open goal, oh what a goal line clearance, somehow the teams remain level,” and, “the ball is whipped in, great header from Costa and a wonderful save. The keeper was at full stretch to tip that over,” or even, “Flores spins past one, darts past a second and slams in the shot, oh my word, how close was that?”
On the 87th minute the commentators were perplexed, “they will be wondering how this is still level, chance after chance has gone begging. They won the World Cup four years ago with better finishing than this, they will need to up their game as the tournament progresses.”
Three minutes later and the unthinkable happened, “forward come the Champions, maybe one last chance to win, Hecter on to Flores, he goes round the outside, the cross is in but once again it is met by Martin’s head. That is a huge clearance, anywhere will do now. Somehow it’s found Donaldson, the lone man up front and he has only three players between him and the goal. Great control to take one out, it’s just one defender and the goalkeeper, Donaldson pushes it to the right and goes left. He has left Benitez in his wake, now he bears down on goal. Surely not, surely he can’t. Donaldson steps to the left, DONALDSON. Oh my word, he has just curled it beautifully around the keeper. The net ripples and it is not who you would have expected to have done it. Who would have seen that coming? The World Champions one nil down deep within stoppage time. Donaldson, Christian Donaldson, is surely a national hero now.”
Day 8 – 19/06/14
What happened in the World Cup
Group C
Group D
Controversy
It is hard to know you lost in this way, that it was not your skill, your passion, your determination that affected the outcome. To know that a bit of cheating and a bad refereeing decision cost you this opportunity.
I can remember the feeling of rage that boiled in the pit of my stomach as I walked off the pitch, I wanted to hurt someone, I wanted to hurt him. He had taken my dreams away from me. Somehow I managed to control myself, not even a wall or door felt my wrath as I walked, head down, off the pitch, through the tunnel and back to our dressing room.
I remember that day so well; I see the incident in my dreams nearly every night. The World Cup final, nil nil with only thirteen minutes to play. “Unlucky for some,” they tell me, but it was not luck that denied me the greatest achievement in my life. I have tried to prove there was some payment given to the referee to throw the game but my searches have proved unfruitful. I have been told that it was just a bad decision but I refuse to believe it, how could that decision have been made?
I close my eyes and see him now, the opposition striker running towards me; he knocks the ball to my right. As I turn I notice it has gone too far and my goalkeeper will gather it easily. Next I hear a whistle, as I turn round the striker is rolling around on the floor as if someone has run on with an axe and chopped his leg off, a mighty tree felled with one clean swipe. I wonder what has happened as the referee points to the penalty spot. As I look around I notice there are no players for miles, it is me who has committed the foul. I felt no contact, I stuck out no leg, I made no attempt to tackle. The referee walks up to me, his arm shooting up, I see a flash of red but it does not register. As it dawns on me what has happened I have lost sight of the referee, a crowd of my teammates around him.
I do not know what to do, my fists are clenched, I look at the player on the floor, I want to stamp down hard on his chest. Make him feel the pain I do at this moment. My central defensive partner notices what is going on and puts an arm around me, leading me away from the mob and the striker that is still lying on the floor feigning injury.
I open my eyes again, I am back in my living room but I still hear the roar of the crowd as I walked down the tunnel. I knew, in that moment we had been robbed of the World Cup.
Day 9 – 20/06/14
What happened in the World Cup
Group D
Group E
I Don’t Care
I don’t care about the World Cup
I don’t care who’s gonna win
To me all this football
Coverage is just a sin
I don’t care which team is playing
I don’t care if it’s our boys
They’re just a bunch of grown men
Playing with some children’s toys
I don’t care who starts the game
I don’t care who’s on the bench
If you keep going on like this
My fists are gonna clench
I don’t care if he’s rubbish
I don’t care if he’s out of position
All this World Cup gives me
Is a negative disposition
I don’t care what ball they’re using
I don’t care about their boots
Unlike an owl
I really couldn’t give two hoots
I don’t care if it was offside
I don’t care if it’s a free kick
All this blinkin’ football
Is making me quite sick
I don’t care if it was yellow
I don’t care it should be red
All this constant blathering
Gives me a pain in my head
I don’t care if the striker missed
I don’t care if the defence is all at sea
Just get this rubbish off
And something better on TV
I don’t care about the substitute
I don’t care how he fares
If you keep going on at me
You’ll be sleeping downstairs
I don’t care what this pundit says
I don’t care about his knowledge
Don’t you understand?
It’s me I want you to acknowledge
I don’t care about the penalty
I don’t care about the foul
The rage is building up right now
I think I’ll have to howl
I don’t care about statistics
I don’t care what the commentator said
Oh, I have enough of this
I’m just going up to bed
Day 10 – 21/06/14
What happened in the World Cup
Group F
Group G
We Waited Four Years For This
We waited four years for this. Where was the passion, the pride? The shooting was woeful, the passing poor and the movement non-existent. Ok so we didn’t expect to set the world alight but a first round exit still hurts. I thought we would at least get through the group, give one of the big boys a scare in the knockout rounds. People talk about how club football is more important to players than internationals and on this evidence I would have to agree. These guys have been amazing week in week out for their club sides, why can’t they do it at this level? I know it will be said that we don’t play enough international games and that the players don’t fully know how each other plays. That excuse doesn’t wash with me, if I went for a meeting with another office and completely screwed up could I say, “sorry but I’ve never worked with them before?” No I couldn’t, completely ridiculous. Also, why can’t we pass at this level? They ping balls left and right every week, they get to a tournament like this and they can’t even move it two feet without giving it away. It’s shameful. These players need to look at that badge on their shirt, remember who they are playing for. If they don’t want to play for the national team then I know millions upon millions of people who do.
And what is it about managers making stupid substitutions? Taking off our most creative midfielder or the striker with most goals when we need to score? They don’t do that in the rest of the season so why now? It is as if s
omeone has put so much pressure on them that they panic. Maybe it is the media, if we play well one game we are going to be champions, if we play badly one game we are the worst team in the world. Never has a set of people be so powerful in building players up then knocking them down.
So where next? Will we just put it down to being unlucky? Probably. Will we decide a path for future glory? Probably not. Will we do this all over again in four years’ time? Most definitely.
Maybe it is my fault, maybe I shouldn’t get so excited, dare to dream and will my team on. Should I be more realistic or should our team be more positive? I now want to know what it was that caused this. If I am being truthful I don’t really know, to be honest I don’t really understand. I just feel sad, frustrated, fed up and can only think, we wait four years for this.
Day 11 – 22/06/14
What happened in the World Cup
Group G
Group H
I Wonder What The Score Is
I am smiling and nodding but nothing they say is going in. They are talking about politics, about who should be in charge of the country and at the present time I don’t care at all about the matter. If this wasn’t a fancy restaurant I would have told them to shut up by now.
My Wife is staring at me, she is shaking her head and widening her eyes, trying somehow to coax me into taking part in this conversation. I told her I didn’t want to come, I told her I would be distracted but she didn’t listen and I will get it in the neck for this. I wouldn’t mind so much but it is her who organised the meal, I know it is her new boss and she wants to impress him but everyone knows the World Cup is on. It is not as if they just said, “oh yeah, the World Cup will start next Thursday,” it has been planned for years. She should have checked, should have known that I would want to watch every game. The amount of times I forfeit the remote control to her I think I deserve it. And what about this guy, surely he would know that it’s on, he looks like the sort of guy who likes football, he could have politely declined.
But alas no, here we are, sat in an overpriced restaurant talking about stuff we don’t care about only to try to look intellectual and pretend we are having a good time. Why can’t I just look at my phone? I know she said that would be rude but one peak won’t hurt. I could take a bathroom break, but if I do that too often they will be on to me.
Wait, what was that, his wife just looked at him with the same stare as mine. I knew it, he doesn’t want to be here either, he wants to be at home watching the football too. Surely I can say something, but what if I have read it wrong, what if there is some other issue? No I haven’t, I will bite the bullet, “I wonder what the score is,” I muse completely off topic.
There is silence, I have halted the whole conversation. I have misread the situation. Just before I can fully panic I hear him say, “2-1 to Spain.”
As I smile back at him his wife asks, “how do you know?”
He produces a phone that was concealed under the table, looking at me he confesses, “I’ve got our son to text me every five minutes.”
His wife looks enraged. “Nice,” I say, “we really should have gone to the pub.”
“Now that would have been a good idea,” he replies.
We may be in trouble with our wives but at least we are united. More importantly, I now know what the score is.
Day 12 – 23/06/14
What happened in the World Cup
Group A
Group A Final Standings
Group B
Group B Final Standings
The Manager
How can we win this? I really don't know what to do. We came into this tournament as one of the dark horses but our performances have left a lot to be desired. Before it started I had it all, a great squad, fantastic fans and plenty of passion and hope. What do I have now? A striker that can't hit the target from two yards out, a midfield that have lost the ability to pass the ball, a defence that can only tackle by trying to break the opposition’s legs and a goalkeeper who can't catch.
These are not the players I qualified with, well they are but they did not play like this. As I look down the bench I see a lack of experience and no real game changers, but I need to do something or we will limp out of this World Cup. A laughing stock when there was so much hope.
The problem is not only what formation to change to or who I bring on but, more importantly, who I take off. Those eleven on the pitch are established names. They are key parts of elite club sides. If I take one off and we lose the media will have a field day, "why did he take him off?' they will ask, “he was clearly their best player,” they will say. In the same vain if I leave them on and we lose I will be lambasted for sticking with the old formula when we needed something different.
It is alright if the players have one bad tournament, they get World Cups and continental championships every couple of years. Just by playing well in the next they will be fine. Why, as a manager, do I not get that luxury? If we go out only one man's head is on the line, mine! But I have picked the best team and thought about tactics for every game, it is those guys on the pitch that haven't performed. Sometimes I feel like the scapegoat for others ineptitude. A player has a bad game and I did not manage him correctly, the team do not play well and I have chosen the wrong tactics, the nation’s Football Association pick the wrong place to train and I have hindered our preparations even though I told them of their error.
The stress gets to you all the time, it makes you think twice before doing anything. But I don't want to regret this moment for the rest of my life, I would rather go out having tried something different than just fade away, too scared to do anything at all. I want to be thought of as a manger that was proactive, that saw a problem and tried to solve. At the end of the day I am the boss, I am in charge and I will do something to sort out this shambles whatever the consequences.
Day 13 – 24/06/14
What happened in the World Cup
Group C
Group C Final Standings
Group D
Group D Final Standings
I Am Just Doing My Job
The chants come in from the crowds, implying I was born out of wedlock. The players scream and shout in my ear, they dive and cheat but I am the one who gets the abuse. I am just doing my job but sometimes I don’t know why I bother.
It does not matter what decision you make you will always offend one set of players and thousands of fans. Is it really worth it all? Upsetting so many people by doing a job? It is not like I collect taxes or put parking tickets on cars. Not that those people who park illegally or don’t pay tax should get away with but I still don’t think tax collectors and parking attendants get the abuse I do. Maybe it is because I am beamed into millions of living rooms with cameras at every angle picking up any tiny mistake I make. You may think that means I am a massive star, all it means to me is millions upon millions more people to anger.
Talking about the cameras, it is nice to know people can see every incident from multiple points of view but do you think they realise that I can’t? The game moves so quickly, if there is a player in the way then that’s it. Sometimes I just have to guess at what has happened and in my world if you are unsure you don’t give the foul or brandish a card.
Do you know what is worse? That I am supposed to follow as set of rules whilst being fair and just and allowing the game to flow. Some matches I feel like sending half the team off but if I did that I would, to quote a phrase, “ruin the spectacle.” But again, if I don’t fully follow the rules then I get even more abuse.
The abuse doesn’t really get to you that much, only if you make a massive mistake and realise later. I think it means little because of who it comes from, armchair pundits who have never played football higher than the local pub team and superstar players who act like little children. At times this job is little more than childcare.
So why do I it? Maybe it is the power, maybe it is to be a star, or maybe because I want to make a difference. No, the real rea
son is that I was not good enough at football but love the game so much and without referees it would not go ahead.
Oh well, here come the boos again but that was a blatant dive. I really should blow my whistle and book him but will just get in trouble for not letting the game flow. You know, you just can’t win!
Day 14 – 25/06/14
What happened in the World Cup
Group E
Group E Final Standings
Group F
Group F Final Standings
A Great Team Goal
The shot came in from distance, stinging the hands of the keeper. Using all his knowledge of the game he pushed it away and to his right, as far from danger as he could. The power in the shot meant the parry clearer the penalty area and players from both teams went darting towards it. It was the defending team and Brian Jones who was there first. He trapped the ball under his feet before the opposition players swarmed around him. Mobbed at every turn there seemed little opportunity to do anything with the ball bar clear it over the the touchline and concede a throw in. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Steve Goldene, thinking quickly and fast running out of options he backheeled the ball taking three of the opposition off guard, the ball rolling just behind his teammate. With an outstretched leg Goldene brought the ball under control and turned away from his goal. With a quick look up he sprayed a delicate pass to the left hand side, switching play and allowing a counter attack.