I'll be the first to admit my soccer ignorance, but it seemed to me the officials had done a bang-up job throughout the first round of the World Cup. When players were called for fouls, or hit with cards, announcers had lauded the refs for getting the calls exactly right. Officials were performing, it seemed to me, at world-class levels, just like the players.
Until Saturday. Against us. And damn, that sucked.
Because the U.S.-Italy game was really, really awesome, until referee Jorge Larrionda, as SI.com's Mark Bechtel described, "began pulling out his red card like he was a six-year-old showing his favorite Christmas gift."
I saw this game with some friends at Scruffy Duffy's in Times Square. Perfect location, because of the tourist quotient that elevated the soccer knowledge to higher than you might find, say, in my hood on the Upper West Side. SRO crowd, tons of TVs, sound up, passers-by peering in from the street, and a lot of energy to match the inspiring first-half performance of the Americans.
You know what happened: The Italians converted a perfect corner kick, our own constant pressure forced an own-goal by Italy, then a series of red cards — one for them, followed by two for us — changed the entire dynamic of the game. Less players means more space and more running, and I don't know how our guys managed to hold on without collapsing.
Collapsing, it appears, is something other teams do. Like Italy, whose players writhed like freshly reeled-in fish on seemingly every foul. The two most overheard phrases at the bar were "Let's go!" (to us) and "You pussy!" (to them). Let the record show which team took a gash-inducing elbow blow that hardly paused play, and which team's medical staff was applying ice to ass on the sideline.
But if that's how the game is played, so be it. I'm just an observer here.
My buddy Pat wonders if the U.S. is "strategically stupid for not taking more pussified dives." It's a valid question because either a) we were thugs; or b) Italy worked the refs successfully. You can have it both ways, but to only a slight degree on one side. One of those premises has to dominate.
Another friend Ayan was at the game (and I'm becoming increasing jealous over his trip) and reports that fans of countries uninvolved in this group were all cheering for Italy, more accurately against the United States. I'd thought the U.S. would've inspired such soccer-mad folks by playing a style of intense ball in the first half that would make any footie proud.
But, as Ayan notes: "I have yet to see anyone from outside the USA cheer for the USA team." Yep, even in this "beautiful" game, in which ideals of humanity and sportsmanship are shoved down our throat, on-field whining and off-field politics rear their ugly heads.
(If anyone knows of a good bar that will be open to watch the U.S.-Ghana game in NYC on Thursday at 10 a.m. — good Bloody Marys are a must! — shoot me a note.)
Oh, and one more thing: shout-to to the guy who emerged from a Scruffy Duffy's stall with a pint of beer. Drinking while taking a crap? Now that's dedication.
Right on Paul, I've been watching soccer my whole life and 'diving' is becoming more and more the repertoire of weak sauce teams like Italy. We won the moral victory, (which is as empty as it sounds) we now are in the precarious situation of needing Italy to win in order for us to realistically go through to the next round.
Posted by John L. Williams 32 at June 18, 2006 2:18 PM