Germany 2 Sweden 0; Argentina 2 Mexico 1

To the love that is football,

What a day. Two matches of apocalyptic proportions. The goals, the saves, the misses, the heat, the cards, the everything that is the beginning of sweet 16.

And where was I? That’s right, daddy’s gotta go and bake some bread for Juanita and her two kids (both not mine). Yes, I was at work. Yes, I missed both games. If you look at my blog, you will only see one picture today. I am distraught that I have missed my country’s crude performance and this feeling of nausea was made incrementally worse by the BBC pundit who called the other match, “the game of the tournament.” But ladies and gentlemen, I am a photographer first and an emailer/blogger second. But oh my, what matches I have missed today.

If you have avoided the World Cup to this point, this is when the shit really hits the fan and this is when you will see performances of a life time. Compare to the 2002 version which had Germany, Paraguay, Denmark, England, Sweden, Senegal, Mexico, USA, Brazil, Belgium, Japan, Turkey, South Korea, and Italy, this year is inundated with the traditional powerhouses of football. Also the level of play and the quality of goals have been absolutely superb. From now on, this is the survival of the miracles, battles of wits and feet will be waged between 16 nations where passion, grit, and a moments of absolute zero down your spine as its only currency. And on July 9th, witness the greatest show on Gaia. The end will see the chosen 11 and the defeated will cast their eyes of honour in one eye, jealousy in the other.

Just got the chills.

Right, let’s get right into it.

Sweet 16
Germany 2
Sweden 0

Prior to this match, Germany have scored 8 goals. Of which 4 were scored by Pole number 1 and 1 from Pole number 2. Sort of like Michael Schumacher and Rubens Barrichello. 5 goals by the tandem.

Right, let’s go back to when Germany (“West Germany) won it all in Italia 1990. After 3 games of the group stage, Klinsi had scored 2 and the porn star had scored 3. 5 goals by the now legendary duo. This pair is more Olsen twins than Itchy and Scratchy.

Interesting...

To have almost all your goals coming from your strikers up front is a rarity in this day and age of long range bombers. This is particularly obvious in the England team of Gerrard and Lampard with 20 goals plus per Brit. Let’s break it down a little winsey bit more. At this juncture, no other strike partners have been more efficient than the Deutschland ueber alles of the two Poles. What makes matters more interesting is that Klose’s wife is sleeping with Podorski’s girlfriend’s mother. Apparently, this has been confirmed by the Bild Zeitung, but the important thing is that, as I have said earlier, that they were like, yeah, but, no, but, yeah, not talking to each other. Later on Klose being the elderly statesman decided to defuse the chamber of hate by claiming that they are “best friends”.

Well, if this love can overcome some randomly generated love affair between two women of utmost nonimportance, then we can look forward to the totally dynamic duo that may equal the one from 16 years ago. Are the two ready to become one, a la Son-Goten and trunks via fusion, but since only Albert can understand my so-called joke, I’ll stop it right here.

1st goal came from a great link up play. You must be thinking about your date that was set up a week ago, but you really don’t remember her name as you ponder the next question to me: “Ryu, you puss filled hole. You haven’t mentioned no nothing about the little Kaiser. I mean, he like is soooo cool and he’s going to score so many 3 pointers and touchdowns that I should put it in my fantasy golf team.” If your name is not Tom who is going to raise his child as a Rangers fan, you are unambiguously correct. During this match, he took at least 4 million shots and if it wasn’t for the Kawaguchi like performance by Isaksson, he would have opened his account (sound of Albert and Kevin bouncing off the floor). A fly ball to centre edge of the box is headed with a wee bit of strength to Luckas. A bit of a “where’s the fucking ball?” is played with about two swede and a Pole. Eventually the Pole comes out victorious and knocks it back to the petit kaiser. Ballack knocks it one time to Klose who splits the defence like Costner’s samurai sword, but the HGH induced Isakkson attack foils any attempt at goal, but then it’s Luckas’s show and you ain’t gonna leave without a goal. Struck it hard and Leipzig is in flames.

2nd goal came from a pass to Klose at around the edge of the right box. He didn’t score, but wait until you read what happens next. This is like a good murder mystery without any murder. Well, there was a killer pass, but fortunately no one was killed, except for the spirit of the Abba nation. Klose dribbles across the box and drags not one, not even two my boy, but three idiots with him. When he saw that his cologne was attracting more men than women, he releases a killer to the waiting Podolski, who nails it home. Sick shit. Two goals. In 11 minutes.

Before the end of the half, well, way before the end of the half, well, about 10 minutes before the end of the half, Lucic who is Swedish by naughty by nature gets his 2nd yellow for what looks like a minimalist version of a shirt grab. Shouldn’t have been a sending off, but then he’s Swedish and right now I am not really into Swedes and that’s alright with me. Just so you are clear on the technicality of this call, it was a shit call. German hail Hitler hand gestures to bring on this atrocious call? Most definitely. Sweden, hard done.

2nd half brings more shots from Ballack and they either go wide or Isakkson is punching and fisting and chopping and doing whatever to make the bad man go away. With each missed shot, the litlte kaiser is acting more like the little emperor on stilts. I’d pay just to watch that.

Sweden had their chance but blew it like it ain’t PG 13. Another shit call by the ref for a penalty, but upon further highlight watching, it’s a shit tackle by one of the “M” defender on Larsson. The dude who used to sport an awful dreadlock was about to make Swedish goal scoring history and at exactly the same exact moment, he would also give Sweden another breath to sing Waterloo. He Baggio’s it and it’s pretty much went downhill from there.

We’re through, we’re through, we’re mother fucking through.

Someone always say the Germans are like a well oiled machine. I never really thought like because it sounds too greasy. But we’re all greased up and ready to take on anyone.
Bring it on, bitch!

Hope I don’t have to eat any of those above words on the 30th.

By the way, we bid farewell to those happy Swedes. Thank you for the music.

Sweet 16
Argentina 2
Mexico 1

The supposed, best game of the tournament. The highlights did say that it was and I’m still crying.
I’m just going to go for it.

1st goal was a hard and technical one (true) from the brown tortilla (lie), who got this nickname from one of his 3 out of marriage children (possible) Before it reached its final destination, the so-called “ball” was struck rather nicely by Senor Mendes which was then flickety flick flak by Senor Pardo and half volleyed it straight into Maradona’s god like a grande chalupa. After the goal, he shows his love to two of his 3 out of marriage children by sucking his thumb. Stupid, but the kids dig it.

2nd goal came 5 minutes later from the man who plays for Bolton as much as Nakata does. Riquelme hits the corner with his favourite 4 iron, which seeks out Crespo’s feet but accidentally hits Spaghetti’s. Shock horror for the chimichangas, hooray for Diego’s fat farm employees.

My favourite name team have clawed, bitten, scrapped, and took the game to the Argies for 90 minutes. But if you can bring in the boy wonder with bad hair, an ex-boy wonder who still isn’t too bad, and the top scorer of the Brazilian league as your substitutes, you’ve got problems.

3rd and final instalment of this match was what could possibly be the goal of the tournament. It’s like Jordan’s ankle brace warranty voiding shot that was immortalised until he decided to play for the Wizards. Silly man. So it’s like the 98th minute. The clock is obviously ticking. Sorin gets the ball on the left flank, approximately 15 metres into Alamo territory. He unleashes a whipped one to Maxi Rodriguez on the other side of the pitch and from where he was placed, no one expected what happened next. No Danny, he didn’t join the Knicks, but instead he bounces the long one from the bad haircut man from Villarreal chest and as the ball comes down he volleys it and the rest is World Cup history. When you hit a ball square and flush on your laces, you just don’t feel the ball. It’s hard to describe it if you’ve never played football, but the ball is weightless as you uncork it out of your feet. What also happens in this instance is that there is a bit of a Tai-chi-wai moment, as the ball drops at the end of its trajectory. This is difficult to do when you’re playing HKIS ball, but probably more when you’re playing in the sweet 16 of the cup. The ball zooms straight out of his feet and even Menon’s finger wouldn’t have prevented that strike. It drills into the right side netting and if this was 8 years ago, the match would have been over, but since it’s a silver goal, the match went on and it was time up for the Mexican Waves.

But what a strike. You have to see it to believe it.

I will really really really miss you. People were talking behind your backs that you were there to play it like a matador, but you proved us wrong with your gallant performance. But I will mostly miss you for the epidermal performance you have given me in nickname generating. With utmost respect, I give it up to them Mexicans. Hasta la vista, Baby.

So, you know it’s like Argentina against Germany. I’m getting sore goose pimples.

The bracket now looks like this:

Germany V Argentina

England V Ecuador

Portugal V Holland

Italy V Australia

Switzerland V Ukraine

Brazil V Ghana

Spain V France

Ryu’s “I cant’ believe it’s butter” goal of the day. Two words. Me tired. I mean, Maxi Rodriguez.

Tomorrow my adopted home country gets their feet wet with some place called Quito and the evening blockbuster pits the Orange against the sexy midfielders.

Watch it.