The World Cup

Yesterday the French were eliminated from World Cup play-offs. Does it sting? Well, yes, a tad. After all, the Ivory Coast was once a French colony, but it my mind this just means the French did a good job teaching the Ivorians ball-handling (or footling). The American equivalent, I suppose, would be for a Philippino team to win the World Series.

Was I dismayed? Not a bit. Did I expect the French to make it past the opening rounds? No. Let’s face it; the French are extraordinary at single competition and horrible in teams. Climb Kilimanjaro blindfolded? The French did it. Cross the Atlantic on a windsurfer? Yep, that too.  Drive the Dakar-Paris rally? Yes indeed. Tennis? Oh yeah, we’re pretty good at that. Win at a team sport? Not on your life. When it comes to organized play, to the coordination of individuals on a playing field, my brethrens thrive on chaos and disunity. Just before the last game, the team defied its coach, leading to massive replacements of team members.  We French, when it comes to sports, are masters at snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.

The Americans, who won earlier today with a late-game goal against Algeria, have benefited from an increased US interest in the sport but I don’t think that in the States soccer will ever be placed very high on the pantheon of physical activities. Americans like ‘burst’ sports, high intensity followed by periods of rest. Football, basketball, and baseball are all burst sports that allow viewers the opportunity to get snacks, talk on the phone, go to the bathroom. Soccer is a continuous effort rarely halted for longer than seconds. Referees do not slow down the game by explaining their calls. A match might be decided in the time it takes to flush the toilet.

Soccer is also theater, as opposed to action movie. There is balletic quality to the movement of the players down the field, and an economy of movement not found in other sports.  And few players of other games come close to matching the histrionics of a soccer forward who has been downed by contact.  The tears! The handwringing! The grimaces of intense pain!  All vanish as soon as a penalty is called—or not called—but it makes watching a good game as interesting as anything offered on stage.

The officiating of international soccer leaves a lot to be desired. Since referees do not have to explain or justify calls, pretty much anything goes. Today, a ref disallowed an American goal, calling the US off sides when it wasn’t. There’s no recourse. Earlier in the Cup a non-English speaking Malian referee did the same thing when the Americans were playing Slovenia, so that the Americans, instead of winning 3 - 2, ended up with a 2-2 tie. There’s talk of instituting instant replays in world matches, but I don’t see that happening. The charm of soccer is its intensity and speed, and stopping the game for play review would ruin it. Better training for the officials is needed, no doubt, and it will come in time.  

Soccer has yet to find its true niche in the US. It may or may not do so, but it’s at least heartening to see that—at least for as long as the American teams stays in the competition—there’s a resurgence of interest in the sport.