The Rainbow Connection

Carry on Kampuchea...

2010-08-06T01:26:00.010+01:00

(Having previously dumped - sorry, pasted - despatches from Afghanistan, Iraq, Sierra Leone, Ethiopia and Zimbabwe on here, I somehow forgot a couple from Cambodia. Following the recent sentencing of Khmer Rouge guard "Duch", and because, well well, just because, here are a few thoughts from Cambodia, from last November)

THE PRETTY waitresses may appear eager to please, pouring cocktails and politely applauding Western tourists’ slurred karaoke crooning or drinking game exploits.
But Thailand’s superficially-glitzy nightlife is shot through with sexual slavery, abuse and violence - and, increasingly, lethal disease.
Thai capital Bangkok is shadowed by Poipet - the shabby, sleazy Cambodian frontier district racked by Aids after becoming a feeder town for Thailand’s sex trade.
And it is not just the exploited and trafficked local women at risk - Western tourists themselves are both to blame and in danger, as dark warnings from HIV-positive victims make clear.
Every morning at 7am, as soon as a tinny recording of the national anthem ends and a shrill whistle blows, the border opens for the day.

Thousands of people will take that as the cue to start pouring through these dusty, seedy streets either side of a faux-grand arch proclaiming ‘Kingdom Of Cambodia’.
Some of them are Western backpackers passing through, and a few more are Thais making the most of the nine new casinos operating here – enjoying a trip away from a country where gambling is forbidden.
But many others are poverty-stricken Cambodians heading into Thailand for the day to make a dollar or two hauling carts or working in the paddy fields.
Most will return home by the time the border shuts again at 8pm.
But there are those making their way to work in Thailand who may never come home again – or if they do, will only do so traumatised by their sex abuse ordeal and infected with HIV.
Tempted over by silver-tongued traffickers promising sought-after work – many of them women themselves – Cambodian victims will quickly find themselves enslaved in brothels and sordid bars instead.
You Ra is one of those victims, now one of the estimated 84,000 adults living with HIV in a country where death from the disease is more likely than in most nations.
Until recently the country had the fastest-rising HIV infection rate in the world, reaching 3.3 per cent, and though this figure has fallen to 0.8 per cent it is still the second worst in Asia.
Poipet’s infection rate is estimated to be at least ten times the national average.

These days You Ra, despite her frailty, drags a cart packed with cheap food and drink across into Thailand and back again each day.
But the 32-year-old was once one of those entrapped by the sex trade, enduring three years in a Thai bar – notionally as a waitress, but in fact as a prostitute forced to sleep with up to ten men each night.
Often these were drunken Western tourists, crudely demanding sex for up to 1,000 baht (£18) a time – and turning violent if their unsubtle advances were resisted.
You Ra herself never saw any of that money, which was paid directly to her employer - instead told she should count herself lucky to receive three bowls of rice each day.
‘The owner would say he paid a very expensive price for me, about 100,000 baht (£1,800), and I didn’t have the right to anything,’ she recalled.
She had been a widowed mother-of-three, unable to find a job, when first approached by a woman promising employment sewing trousers, across the border from Poipet.
You Ra was accompanied by her self-proclaimed saviour, plus five other women, as she was hustled across the border and travelled on through Thailand for 16 hours straight.
Eventually she was deposited in a large bar in the city of Chonburi, where the owner instantly ordered the women into shorter skirts and skimpier tops – and made it clear what their new duties would be.
In fact, he himself provided the most brutal of initiations by raping You Ra, something he would repeat regularly during her time there – beating her up if she ever tried to resist.
Breaking down in tears, she told Metro: ‘We didn’t want to go along with this, but the owner would beat us morning and night. We said we had to force ourselves to do whatever the customers wanted.
‘During the day we could rest and sleep, but at night we had to serve the men who came. I had to sleep with between five and ten people every night.
‘Many of them were Thai people, but some were Cambodians who had crossed the border for work, and others were from Myanmar.
‘There were also customers from the West, lighter-skinned men, who could behave very badly when they got drunk.
‘Some could be more gentle, but others would get very violent – especially if they felt they weren’t satisfied enough, and they would start to attack.’
Ferocious dogs posted around the building’s perimeters not only kept any troublesome customers from escaping if they refused to pay.
They also helped frustrate any hopes You Ra had of fleeing, leaving her feeling: ‘Every long day, I thought I would die there – I thought there was no way out, for the rest of my life.’
Surprise salvation came, however, when a nearby property set fire and she used the confusion to escape and run away.
But even once she had eventually made it home and remarried, more heartache awaited.
Signs of sickness and fever in her fifth son, 18-month-old Chai Chorvant, prompted her to take him to hospital for a blood test revealing he was HIV-positive.
You Ra was swiftly diagnosed with the disease as well, along with her new husband Chai Dam, 31 – all three now victims of some sordid encounter with one of those abusive clients.
She said: ‘I’m very angry that I don’t know how to do them harm or repay them for what they’ve done to me,’ she said.
‘Now I’m always warning women to be careful, no matter how desperate they may feel.
‘And Westerners should realise bars like that, HIV is there already – tourists should keep well away if they don’t want to be infected too.
‘Working in that bar was like being in Hell for me. Now HIV has made my life another Hell – I face a death sentence every day.’

***

HAN Sry had only been lying prone in Poipet’s spartan, solitary Aids healthcare unit for a day.
But already she – and her 12-year-old daughter, on 24-hour bedside vigil – feared death was on its way.
Already widowed by Aids, the 40-year-old was one of seven patients in the ill-equipped 15-bed unit at Poipet’s main health centre.
More often than not, according to senior doctors here, all 15 beds are occupied – forcing further arrivals to sleep on the hard concrete floors.
Speaking hoarsely to Metro through a translator, Han Sry said: ‘I was very weak when I was taken ill and was very happy to be brought here to hospital.
‘But I’m worried now – worried about the future for my children, my 17-year-old son and my 12-year-old daughter.
‘My husband is already dead. I’m scared of dying too, because I think about what the destiny will be for my children after I’m gone.’
Her daughter Srey Mao added: ‘I’m frightened. My mother has got HIV and I’m worried about her dying.
‘I’ve spent all the time with her since she came to the hospital.
‘I wish above all that she maybe could get better – but I’m not sure she ever will.’
The Aids patients, many now in the final stages of their life, are housed in a crumbling concrete block with peeling surfaces, no glass in the windows and only a couple of taps on the walls for sanitation.
The word ‘hospital’ is actually little more than a convenient label for Poipet 1 Healthcare Centre, where staff can perform no operations and crucial equipment is frequently denied them by government.
The nearest main hospital is two hours’ drive away in the city of Siem Reap.
The healthcare centre’s director Soun Sophal dutifully files reports pleading for extra staff, shower and toilet facilities for Aids patients, and a new ward segregating HIV and tuberculosis beds.
But so far he has received little help from the country’s ministry of health, winning only outright refusals – or no reply at all.
This is despite his 23 staff, at the 150-bed centre, diagnosing an average of 15 new HIV-positive cases every month.
He believes they have carried out 10,000 HIV tests since opening seven years ago.
Though firm figures are not available, his estimates suggest 1,260 positive results in that time – an infection rate of 12.6 per cent, well above the national average of 0.9 per cent.

***

KHEN Vein is still shaken by how her husband went off to fight as a child soldier for Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge, the barbaric army that would murder her two sisters.
Yet while she survived Cambodia’s ‘Killing Fields’ nightmare of the Seventies, the 21st century has provided a fatal legacy of her own.
And again her husband Chau-ut Thet can be implicated – not for the loss of those sisters, but the deadly disease now poisoning both his wife and his son.
Chau-ut, a child soldier at the not so tender age of 11, is now himself dead – killed by Aids aged just 44.
His adulterous affairs while looking for work in Cambodia’s major cities left not only him HIV-positive.
He also then passed on the infection to his wife Khen Vein when returning to their rural home village of Toulsalla, about 50km outside the capital Phnom Penh.
That sad inheritance is also borne by their nine-year-old son Thet Sokchan.

Many who lived through the Pol Pot era can be shy about recalling the four-year period in which 1.7million Cambodians died through torture, execution, disease and starvation.
But some are prepared to delve into those bleak memories, whether prompted by curious visitors – or the ongoing trial of notorious prison camp commander Kaing Guek Eav, also known as Duch.
Revelations at his genocide trial, now approaching its end, include descriptions of how inmates were routinely beaten, received electric shocks, had their toenails torn out and were waterboarded.
When the invading forces came to call on Khen Vein’s village, her sisters were among those taken hostage, bound and gagged and hustled away to be slaughtered elsewhere.
Khen Vein, now 50, recalled: ‘My two sisters were murdered by Pol Pot’s forces because they were too educated.
‘Some of the troops did start questioning me as well, but I did my best to seem as ignorant as possible – I pretended I hadn’t learnt anything at all, and they let me go.’
Her husband was 16 when they married – and already a veteran of several years’ Khmer Rouge training, deep in the Cambodian mountains.
But she admitted: ‘I didn’t understand very much at the time – I was just afraid.
‘My husband and I didn’t talk much about the killings that were going on – just more about his basic duties and the things he’d have to fix.
‘Life was so difficult. I couldn’t go to school – there was nothing to eat. We had to walk the longest distances just to find any scraps of food.
‘At least now I can get dressed in peace. I have food to eat. My children can go to school and enjoy their education.’
Yet Thet Sokchan’s school days have been blighted by taunts and snubs from fellow pupils, aware of his HIV status.
In villages such as Toulsalla and Roka, in the province of Kandal, charities such as Tearfund-aided World Relief put on drama, puppetry and music classes to educate all ages about health risks – and health myths too, to erode prejudice.
But Khen Vein told how neighbours would bar their children from playing anywhere near her home.
And Thet Sokchan himself said: ‘The kids there would curse my mother. I didn’t scold them back – I would only cry to myself instead.’
His philandering father died in hospital in September 2005, with Thet Sokchan recalling: ‘I remember my father holding me to his leg when he was very sick and had to go to the hospital. After that, he didn’t come back.’
At least the anti-retroviral drugs he takes without fail at 6am and 6pm each day have stabilised his condition.
Yet while an estimated 60 per cent of Cambodia’s 84,000 HIV patients now have access to ARV drugs, some corrupt medics are exploiting government provisions by introducing charges – especially in areas where aid agencies have stepped back.
Even fees of $1 or $2 can be prohibitive in some of the poorest regions.
Thet Sokchan not only receives his, however, but was also given an alarm clock by World Relief to remind him when to take them.
But Khen Vein feels sickly more often, losing all strength and regularly falling dizzy.
‘That makes me worry all the more about my children,’ she fretted.
‘There are three of the five I’m still very responsible for, especially the youngest.
‘If I die, who will take care of my child?’
‘I’m afraid about that too,’ Thet Sokchan quietly, solemnly added.

"The reign in Spain falls mainly on the plain..."

2010-07-11T23:18:00.006+01:00

... and they all lived happily ever after.
Thrillingly enjoyable as this entire tournament has been, one worry nagged away as the days, hours, minutes dwindled before the final kick-off.
All memories could be spoiled, or at least slightly tainted… should Spain somehow contrive, yet again, not to triumph.

Okay, an admission: that’s just a cut-and-paste job, from my final reflections on the Euro 2008 final, though sentiments remain the same two years on.
Perhaps the Spanish, while by far the classiest and finest team here, have been a little more halting – even frustrating – en route to becoming world champions for the first time.
Like France in 2000, the last team to combine both world and European titles, the performances second time around have been a little slow-ish at points – but eventually relentless, inarguable and of the glossiest high-quality finish.
Yet it took yet another late rescue by the cherishable Andres Iniesta tonight to save us from a fate far worse than had, say, Germany somehow won in Vienna two years ago.
Heading into the final minutes of extra-time, at the end of a disappointing if not unwatchable World Cup final, the horrible prospect of the depressing Dutch stealing victory on penalties loomed large.
Joachim Low’s 2008 European Championship team were nowhere near so refreshing and at least pulse-racingly counter-attacking at this summer’s model.
Yet it would have seemed a travesty had they taken the European crown, just because Spain were such a pleasure to watch, envy but savour.
Bert van Marwijk’s Dutch team tonight, however, made Germany 2008 look like the Corinthian Casuals by comparison – a brutal, mean-spirited side with little intention to win by fair means instead of foul.
In fact, they didn’t seem too anxious about winning at all, save for the occasional dangerous break by Arjen Robben against an understandably-nervous Spanish defence.
Whizzkid Dutch substitute Eljero Elia, who played with an enjoyably breezy spirit in his first cameo against Denmark, was reduced to trudging back into his own half in desperate search of the ball tonight.
As for the Dutch clogs ... too many to mention, let alone for Howard Webb to keep immaculate track of, and he and his officials found themselves booed by both sets of fans.
Perhaps he could have stamped his authority – rather more constructively than the stamp of Dutch boots – earlier in the game, the very first minute indeed and the first violent rake by Robin van Persie.
The sudden spate of yellow cards he flashed midway through the first half might have been an attempt to let both sides know he’d stand no more nonsense – but if intended to calm any tetchiness, the effort backfired.
Mark van Bommel and Nigel De Jong could both have been off by half-time for their inexplicably reckless offences, and presumably they might well have been in a run-of-the-mill Premiership match.
Sending them off tonight would probably, though, have provoked protests that Webb had prematurely ‘ruined’ the biggest fixture in world football.
He had a tough task, and perhaps made himself look uncertain and manipulable in the eyes of some players – but it is the players themselves, the Dutch specifically, who should reflect with shame on a bad night out.
Little wonder Van Marwijk was so reluctant to talk tactics in the build-up to the final.
Thankfully, Spanish style triumphed in the end – and that it was the ever-modest Iniesta, as against Chelsea two years ago, who proved elusive enough before popping up in the right place. At the right time too, managing the latest ever winning strike in World Cup final history.
Diego Forlan has just been announced as winner of the Golden Ball for the tournament’s best player, a split vote beneficiary of the failure by the likes of Villa or Sneijder to dominate this evening.
The pair of holding midfielders persisted with Vicente del Bosque again tonight perhaps meant Villa was a little too isolated at times.
Spanish composure and passing around midfield is delectable as ever, and Xavi’s probing, movement and simple creativity confirmed for him my Golden Ball vote (no doubt he’s delighted).
Yet after an exhilarating opening 20 minutes, in which Spain seemed determined to confront bored critics by playing their usual way but a few gears faster, the actual penetrative service to the striker dried up a little.
No doubt the Dutch ‘tactics’ made it difficult for the Spanish to advance, whether through that narrow, cramped block around the defence – or the persistent, disruptive fouling, by turns petty and menacing.
Despite missing one extra-time sitter after replacing Alonso, Cesc Fabregas did at least increase Spanish influence further up the pitch – making a mark for the first time in his (tentative) tournament, and helping move the ball between Holland’s rigid defensive lines.
The winner, when it came, brought instinctive cries of delight and relief even across the Press box, tears from Iker Casillas and a fittingly ‘job-well-done’ conclusion to South Africa’s showcase.
The closing ceremony beforehand had been entertaining – and entertainingly concise – with its trudging white elephants (a risky image, in one of the huge new stadia), and the inevitable Shakira.
Though someone might have advised her on how to dress more aptly, considering just how chilly this evenings here turn.
The hoarsest cheers, of course, were for very special guest Nelson Mandela, who hardly looked like a man under duress as he took a scoot around the pitch in a car, and dapper Russian hat.
Relief, and joy, and admiration, and relief again were resounded across this spectacular Soccer City stadium as he made his World Cup debut at the last – before hurrying home to watch the game on television.
A wise man, perhaps, as it turned out – he might even have been tempted to start hopping the channels.
Drab as the first 90 minutes certainly were, the final was eventually compelling enough – though the Dutch violence was off-putting, and the quality of passing and especially finishing not quite up to hopes and expectations for such a grand occasion.
Yet no one appeared to care very much as the Spanish got through a clumsy trophy presentation by Sepp Blatter and sent the cup, like the fireworks, rocketing skywards above Iker Casillas’ ever-reliable arms.

Amid the exploding showers of golden glitter, the air was also heavy with dawning revelations.
Yes, just now someone’s only gone and won the World Cup. No matter how heavily-trailed and much-anticipated the moment, an immense lurch from one era to another can indeed be captured and and absorbed in one melodramatic moment.
And yes, this particular show’s now over – the planning, the partying, the fretting, the forecasting, the concerns and the carnival, the expecting and the enjoying.
The beautifully aptly-named Soccer City, so long – it’s been beyond a pleasure.
Some treasures of people put this party on – and yes, once more in the end, some good guys won.

"This time for Africa..."

2010-07-11T13:11:00.012+01:00

WHATEVER you might have heard, not all South Africans brought vuvuzelas to games - even if sometimes they’ve felt as must-have as a pair of holding midfielders.
One odd stadium sight was a jitterbug fan in Bloemfontein, manically parping on a referee’s whistle while furiously flourishing a red card in bemused spectators’ faces.
And wearing a placard on a string around his neck, and a customised T-shirt, both begging God’s blessing upon Sepp Blatter for bringing the World Cup to South Africa.
Not for this fan the bootleg clothing produced elsewhere, bearing slogans such as ‘Fick Fufa’ or ‘MAFIFA: we own the game’ in protest at world football’s governing body and its often-clumsy commercial might.
No, he was purely, evangelically grateful to have the World Cup brought to his country, one for so long justly scorned for its retrograde racism - yet more recently suspected of not quite being fit for modern convenience.
Like the whistle-blasting Blatter fan – by turns irritating yet endearing – this has been a tournament of, if not necessarily contradictions, then at least a bemusing blend of rights and wrongs.
After the – warning, crashing cliché ahead – pristine efficiency of Germany’s World Cup four years ago, with its super-connected rail routes and throbbing city centres, South Africa 2010 was always going to be a more ramshackle and uncertain experience.
That charm and sheer difference was, of course, a large part of the attraction in what was admittedly a daring and courageous decision by Fifa – and for which the determined Sepp himself deserves credit.
Staging Africa’s first World Cup has proved more than merely symbolic, though that symbolism itself can breed not only national confidence but inward investment and beneficial social change.
Even the most ardent football fan, however, must have felt some jarring discomfort at times.
Say, when shuttling to extravagantly-built or revamped World Cup stadia past the sprawling, tented townships fogged in dual carriageway dirt – shuffled away from the logo-soaked safe tourist centres, yet not always quite out of sight.
This remains a country where rife corruption remains, to the benefit of well-connected business and political elites – both white and black – while too many schools, sanitation and above all public housing remain squalidly neglected.
Unemployment has risen to 25.2 per cent – soon to soar even further as the World Cup construction boom crumbles – while an estimated one in five people are living with HIV, hardly helped by years of healthcare under-funding and Aids denialism on high.
Tournament organisers have spent the weekend acclaiming crime rates lower than expected, despite a handful of high-profile thefts suffered by tourists, journalists and even squads such as England’s and Spain’s.
Much pre-World Cup doom-mongering about rampant gangs, dozens of murders a day and at the very least a pickpocket on every corner went well over the top, as events – or non-events – have now shown.
Most visitors have been kept not just well aware of what precautions to take, but also well away from the ‘no-go zones’ which South Africa’s middle-class, gated communities prefer to pretend not to notice.
Those criminals who have been caught have been both prosecuted and punished in quickfire, no-holds-barred fashion.
The mobile ‘World Cup courts’ established at Fifa’s behest have been handing out summary sentences of several years in jail for even minors thefts, such as swiping someone’s mobile phone or branded umbrella.
While there has been some unease about South Africa’s government changing and introducing its own laws to please Fifa, the crackdown has been widely welcomed – and the ‘World Cup courts’ look set to stay once the football has long finished.
Fifa and the tournament’s organising committee have scored their own own goals at times, too.
Aside from Blatter’s dilly-dallying over goal-line technology, no flip-flop was perhaps more needlessly embarrassing than the affair of the Bavaria Beer girls and their orange miniskirts.
Here, illustrated in conveniently photogenic form, was the counter-intuitive compulsion in Fifa and their lucrative official sponsors to not just make a decent buck from the World Cup – but seek to crush anyone with the audacity to hop on board the bandwagon.
The renegade brewer itself hardly suffered, knowing (almost) all publicity is good publicity.
But little similar solace came the way of those street-traders, native cooks or factory workers who had hoped to actually contribute and cash in on a World Cup in their own backyard for a change.
In all the fuss over the vuvuzela as the emblem of South Africa’s World Cup, green-tinged leopard mascot Zakumi has been shoved to the sidelines.
It’s perhaps even more emblematic that, far from being the must-buy toy souvenir of the tournament both here and overseas, Zakumi has been most ubiquitous as a corporate schill in adverts for Visa and telecoms giant MTN.
On the eve of the tournament, Fifa proudly announced annual profits smashing the $1million barrier for the first time, and will pocket an estimated £2.1billion from South Africa’s World Cup.
It’s hard to argue when such revenues come from marketing and TV firms who know all too well just how eagerly and vastly a worldwide audience devours a World Cup.
Then again, the football governing body’s profits are about half as much as the price paid by South African taxpayers to host Fifa’s party.
Tourist body estimates this weekend tentatively suggest foreign visitors might have pumped £1billion back into the local economy thanks to this summer’s football festival.
Such sustenance will certainly come in handy – if redirected properly – as a post-World Cup hangover of further job losses looms, especially with fears of renewed xenophobic violence in the air.
But while those who toiled to complete the vital infrastructure (just about) in time may now find themselves cast aside, albeit having scored a couple of free World Cup match tickets, at least their contributions have been literally set in stone.
World Cup-aided infrastructure is now in place, including improved highways, dazzling stadia which will have to fend off ‘white elephant warnings, and the over-budget – and almost-finished – Pretoria-Johannesburg ‘Gautrain’ railway, to be enjoyed by business commuters at least.
Schools and healthcare projects will also have been boosted, if not by direct government funding then the grass-roots efforts of voluntary organisations perhaps spurred on by the World Cup spotlight.
Such benefits come with price-tags attached – yet calculating this World Cup’s success in cold hard cash sums alone seems too reductive by far.
Trying to calculate at all, in fact, ignores the vast intangible feelgood factor involved – not simply for these five weeks of celebration, or ‘Ayoba’, but the long-lasting impact of having staged this tournament, made this statement.
The end-of-tournament report card could be written in purely ‘negative positives’, so to speak.
After all the hype, there was no al-Qaeda attack. Foreign visitors were not slaughtered in scores, whether by terrorists or more mundane local murderers. All venues were ready on time, none collapsing – only occasionally looking a little too under-filled.
The worst security mishap was not some explosive outrage, but an England fan stumbling his way to the toilet and somehow confronting team mascot David Beckham and his abject pals – an omen of just how easy German forwards would find breaking through the England defence.
And no players fell prey to the rumoured snake with enough venom in his tongue to do for two 23-man squads, as some tabloid reports hysterically predicted – though perhaps only for the sake of a ‘They think it’s all cobra’ headline.
(At the time of my writing this, anyway – apologies if the Dutch and Spanish squads have perished by poison overnight.)
Yet patronisingly judging South Africa 2010 by what mercifully hasn’t happened doesn’t feel quite right either.
A common refrain from locals, both black and white, has been how ‘unifying’ the experience has felt – some even going so far as to put it above Nelson Mandela’s release and the official anointing of a new ‘Rainbow Nation’.
Despite the vast advances in just two decades, attempts to pin down a shared South African identity appear to have frustrated many – until now.
Much has been written about football being the game of South Africa’s black majority, snubbed by the white community favouring rugby instead.
Rugby had its Invictus breakthrough with the 1995 rugby World Cup and Mandela’s determination to make it an occasion for all.
Only now, however, might football be gaining a reciprocal effect.
In new football stadia or borrowed rugby arenas, eager faces of all colours have worn makarapa helmets or novelty glasses, or been found on the end of blasting/blasted vuvuzelas.
As it should be, of course, but still surprising to some South Africans themselves.
‘Shapa Bafana Bafana’ was the rallying cry at the start of the tournament and the eruption of joy when Siphiwe Tshabalala opening this World Cup’s goalscoring – only the fifth time the hosts have ever done so – will linger long in the memory. In the eardrums, it’s maybe only now beginning to fade.
The 3-0 defeat to Uruguay came as a shock to the local system, and newspaper letter-writers still seem fiercely divided over whether Carlos Alberto Parreira deserves sympathy or scorn for not quite making the second round.
That first-round exit is a piece of unwanted history for the hosts, though the USA had worse results in 1994 only to squeak through to the knock-out stages under different rules.
But the Bloemfontein victory over France offered some valediction, as did the vivacity with which flags were still hoisted high – whether South Africa’s or, in the fellow-feeling days ahead, Ghana’s.
The South African players’ open-top bus tour through the crammed streets of Sandton, the day before the big kick-off, might have felt a little hubristic – or, conversely, unambitious, in acknowledging this might prove just ‘as good as it gets’.
Yet it did make a point, from the very start, of trying to bring the World Cup party to the people, a communal spirit so stubbornly resisted by the English camp in their Rustenburg luxury isolation.
Perhaps if England’s sulks had made more of an effort to engage with actual South Africa, Wayne Rooney might not have made such a churlish fool of himself with his boo-boy-baiting tantrum.
Maybe they might not have performed any more coherently, but then, Dutch coach Bert van Marwijk has made much of his team’s throbbing Johannesburg base – while managing to stick around until today’s Soccer City showdown, inflammable egos (so far) kept in check.
This chilly winter World Cup has offered the warmest of welcomes – everywhere smiles, politeness and enthusiasm to just chat about anything, just so long as it’s football.
Even those on security duty at the stadia themselves have been hail-fellow-well-met – for the most part, anyway – whether those under-contract, under-paid stewards or the police hordes brought in at times as replacements.
The walk-outs at four stadia – Johannesburg’s Ellis Park, Durban’s Moses Mabhida, Cape Town’s Green Point and Port Elizabeth’s Nelson Mandela Bay – actually made negligible difference to those making their way in and out of matches.
The most damaging impact was on the exploited staff themselves, paid even less than the meagre amounts first promised.
Again, the affair said little for billion-dollar boasters Fifa, who depressingly battled harder to pass the buck than step in and speak up for those toiling to keep their own show on the road.
Hard-working ordinary Africans, that is, those supposed to be this World Cup’s biggest winners – or, at least, the most gratified.
But just try taking away from what’s been done – what’s been, above all, fun. Three million people have made it through the turnstiles and helped make this a World Cup experience to remember and cherish.
A World Cup experience that really has been like no other.
Some 700million worldwide should tune in to tonight’s climax, many of whom may have gained only limited impression of what it’s meant to be here, or have the World Cup here, beyond that inevitable, incessant soundtrack drone.
For many, the World Cup will live on most in TV replays of Forlan, Villa or even unlucky Lampard strikes, or raging debates about where England, Italy or Brazil go from here, whether 4-4-2 can rise again or how to play like Spain rather than Switzerland.
But as pumped-up politicians here set set ambitious sights on the 2020 or 2024 Olympics, while London senses all attention now turning to our own, South Africa can reflect with relief on this summer’s refreshing success.
For all the fears, South Africa 2010 has been a declaration of not just competence but confidence, an exhilirating setting for that most seriously frivolous and frivolously serious pursuit of all: football.
And now that real referee’s whistle has finally blown, Sepp, Fifa and the World Cup-watching world can give some thanks back to South Africa for that.

"And so, the end is near..."

2010-07-10T23:38:00.003+01:00

A few flippant thoughts/awards - more serious(-ish) reflections to come...

Best goal: Siphiwe Tshabalala’s tournament opener set the vibrant tone, even if Kagisho Dikgacoi soon abandoned the intricate through-passing for simply kicking people.
Best shot: David Villa’s opportunistic curler against Chile, Carlos Tevez’s (onside) effort versus Mexico, or Wesley Sneijder’s semi-final strike that didn’t go in – but did wallop into his pal Robin van Persie.
Worst miss: Durban-born Chilean Mark Gonzalez’s gravity-defying loft with the scores 0-0 against Spain, finishing worthy of the ‘Bafana Bafana’ instead.

Coaches most in need of a decent night’s sleep: Honours even between Slovakia’s Vladimir Weiss, Ghana’s Milovan Rajevac and Paraguay’s Gerard Martino, each looking like they’ve lived a hard life – or at least hard living the night before. Punchy Weiss even invited a journalist outside, Rajevac appears a contender to play Rigsby in a Rising Damp remake, and Martino rivals for Jose Antonio Camacho as ‘World’s Sweatiest Manager’.

Best stadium: The spectacularly modern Moses Mabhida in Durban or the grittily old-fashioned Ellis Park in Johannesburg.
Worst stadium: The Royal Bafokeng in Rustenburg – maybe it’s the surrounding roads and their puncture-causing potholes. Or the surrounding athletics track and the distance from the pitch. Or just the ordeal of watching England play the USA.

Best vuvuzela use: The fan watching Cameroon-Denmark who somehow managed to make his sound like the ominous stabs of saxophone from Bernard Herrmann’s Taxi Driver soundtrack.
Worst vuvuzela use: The Argentine hooligans caught using theirs to store grenades.

Least likely midfield destroyer: Ghana’s hard-working – if hardly intimidating – Anthony Annan. Looking like you might as well play Lionel Messi or Shaun Wright-Phillips in the holding role., And you won’t often find those two together in the same sentence.

Best parkers of the bus: Switzerland, obviously. Though the South African team coach that got stuck in Sandton traffic, almost delaying the opening match, came close.

Most misleading omen: The incessant airings of ‘God Save The Queen’ in the empty Soccer City stadium, a day before the tournament began.
Most out-of-touch officials: Fifa delegates meeting on the eve of the tournament tried testing their electronic voting pads with the simple question, are Italy the defending world champions? Seven voted no. Though by the end of the first round, it was easy to forget – or at least hard to believe.

Impartial punditry: The US journalist in the Rustenburg media centre before his compatriots kicked off against America - tucking into a sandwich while wearing full Captain America costume.

Most baffling imagery: Brazil’s 1970 World Cup-winning midfield craftsman Gerson condemned Dunga, saying: ‘He couldn’t train a team of bottle-tops.’ What?

Worst penalty run-up: John Mensah, the struggling gait of an arthritic.
Best penalty run-up: Cuauhtemoc Blanco, the long-distance surge of a fast bowler.
Finest-quality penalties: The shoot-out between Miss World contestants representing the eight quarter-finalists, swapping world peace for World Cup aspirations. Or else, (almost) all those taken by Japan and Paraguay - pity about the 120 minutes beforehand.

Most popular substitutes: Blanco, Stephen Appiah, and Cesc Fabregas, cheered wildly for each cameo.
Least popular substitutes: Thierry Henry, booed roundly in Bloemfontein – even though the place’s alternative name, Mangaung, does mean ‘land of the cheetahs’.

Clearest refereeing decision actually given correctly: Argentina’s disallowed goal against Germany, with almost as many players caught offside as Maradona picked during qualifiers. Or the several handballs given against a Serbia team who appeared to believe we were playing ‘rush-goalie’.

Moral dilemma man of the moment: Luis Suarez. Not necessarily for his handball – and revelries – against Ghana, but his reckless leap into the photographers’ pit after scoring against South Korea. Yes, someone could have been scalped – but then again, they were only snappers.

Richest hypocrites: Diego Maradona complaining about Luis Fabiano’s handball, Dunga whingeing about Ivory Coast’s persistent fouling, and Bastian Schweinsteiger raising eyebrows at Argentine play-acting.

Modesty blazers: Felipe Melo, daftly nonchalant even after single-handedly (and single-headedly, and single-stamping-footedly) destroying his own team Brazil – insisting he would have deserved ten out of ten had Brazil gone on to win, but was adjusting himself down to a (still-generous) six.
Or Nicolas Bendtner, who got very uppity at Sebastian Bassong almost tugging his shirt off. Presumably because he prefers publicly undressing himself.

England’s success of the tournament: Michael Dawson. While team-mates griped about being bored, he actually got out and about and visited local townships and a deprived youngster he sponsored. When not sitting happily in his hotel room, contented with colouring books.
England’s failure of the tournament: Amid a crowded field, expectations multiplied by abjectness must mean Wayne Rooney. It’s nice to see your own players boring you.
England’s gravest mistake: Taking too few Tottenham players – Jermain Defoe’s goal against Slovenia was Spurs’ 184th for England, more than any other club. The six in the squad could and should have been bolstered by the likes of Huddlestone. Jenas. Woodgate. Hoddle, Roberts, Perryman, Peters, Chas, Dave…

Saddest shadows of their former fab(io) selves: Cannavaro and Capello, neither one any longer quite so cool and composed.
Breaths of fresh air: Thomas Müller, a Platt-style poacher who also showed the baffling good grace to shake hands with the ref who had foolishly ruled him out of the semi-final. Slovakia’s troublesome target-man Robert Vittek, who left Italy clueless – only to be left clubless by former employers Lille. Japan’s Jabulani-taming Keisuke Honda.

Fashion statements of the season: Ghana’s Melchester Rovers tribute kit, those orange miniskirts, or the anti-authority T-shirts bearing slogans such as ‘Fick Fufa’ or ‘MafiFa: We own the game’.

Jauntiest anthems: The trilling trumpets of Brazil’s, or the emphatic climax to Paraguay’s, the kind that really does demand fireworks – and picnic hampers – on a summer’s evening in the park.

Hissiest fit: Perhaps the dust-up a mere 15 seconds into USA-Slovenia, prompted by an errant Clint Dempsey elbow. Or else Garth Crooks’s petulant prima donna act, when trying to wrench Howard Webb from a pack of print hacks.

Cheekiest chutzpah: The Argentine hooligans – yes, more – who were staying at a Christian studies college in Pretoria before being raided and deported. Or the Argentine centre-back Martin Demichelis, taunting John Terry by saying he wouldn’t be allowed home if he defended as the ex-England captain had done against Germany. After Demichelis’ own performance against the same opposition, his plane’s presumably still hovering, the pilot told to go round (the world) again.

Shoddiest pre-World Cup predictions: Brazil to win, Italy to reach the final, and North Korea to hold Portugal goalless... At least David Villa could still win the Golden Boot – though not with two separate hat-tricks, as I had also suggested.

Best games: Slovakia 3 Italy 2, Ghana 1 Uruguay 1, Spain 1 Germany 0. And Denmark 2 Cameroon 1, proof a game can be awesome despite – or perhaps due to – both teams being awful.
Biggest regrets: Not being able to attend Argentina games. Being able to attend England games. The fact it’s now almost all over.

Team of the tournament (elite): Neuer (Germany); Lahm (Germany), Heitinga (Netherlands), Puyol (Spain), Fucile (Uruguay); Müller (Germany), Schweinsteiger (Germany), Sneijder (Netherlands); Iniesta (Spain), Forlan (Uruguay), Villa (Spain).
Almost team of the tournament (second tier): Kingson (Ghana); Maicon (Brazil), Nelsen (New Zealand), Carvalho (Portugal), Salcido (Mexico); Donovan (USA), Annan (Ghana), Vidal (Chile); Messi (Argentina), Vittek (Slovakia), Robinho (Brazil).
Anti-team of the tournament: Chaouchi (Algeria); Cha Du-Ri (South Korea), Mokoena (South Africa), Bassong (Cameroon), Evra (France); Barry (England); Kewell (Australia), Marchisio (Italy), Felipe Melo (Brazil); Rooney (England), Anelka (Brazil).

"I'm the Durban spaceman, baby..."

2010-07-07T23:02:00.003+01:00

ANDRES Iniesta had predicted this would be a ‘beautiful battle’, but perhaps the interpreter should have translated that as ‘attractive attrition’.
Seldom can wearing an opponent relentlessly down be as compelling as Spain make it, despite what a tentatively-restless backlash from some quarters might be suggesting.
Another 1-0 win, with the goal coming late, tonight put Spain into their first World Cup final – ensuring a new name would be on the trophy at the end of their game against the Netherlands on Sunday.
Yet unlike previous underwhelming performances this summer, this win over Germany – the second half especially – suggested tiki-taka is finally ticking over just right.
The goal that put Spain in their first World Cup final might have been rather basic, when it came.
Carles Puyol’s header was about as emphatic as can be, walloping the ball into the net and almost sending opponents – and team-mates – splaying all the way with it.
A few late crosses aside, Germany had little answer – either to the goal or Spain’s overall control.
Vicente del Bosque’s side looked classy and composed all over, with Sergio Busquets getting everywhere – but always usefully, this time – and Xavi gradually re-locating his range.
Germany’s counter-attacking was contained, with Lahm and Boateng kept pinned back and Ozil either kept isolated between Klose and the four-man midfield or else pickpocketed by the busy Busquets.
At times this summer Spain’s lovely passing has lacked a little joy – as if, while retaining the first ‘slow-slow’ part, they’d mislaid somehow the following ‘quick-quick’ bit.
That looked again the case during the first half, though the passing was mostly shorter and a little less sloppy in earlier matches.
Pedro’s inclusion for the infirm and out-of-form Fernando Torres suggested a little more width in the Spanish attack, and he did keep dizzyingly switching positions with both Andres Iniesta and David Villa up-front.
Yet the Spanish midfield and attack were willing to pack tight for much of the time too, especially whenever Germany tried to break out from their own defence.
The German full-backs had little space to manoeuvre, Piotr Trochowski contributed little – certainly none of the prolific peskiness of Thomas Mueller – and Bastian Schweinsteiger’s compound role tonight involved plenty more tackling than attacking.
Villa could be seen losing his rag as Xavi, Iniesta or Pedro would fail by inches to quite find the right through-pass, but the second half brought a little more pace and precision.
And two thrilling minutes on the hour mark could have brought Spain three goals, the high-point being Xabi Alonso’s backheel, Iniesta’s nimble dribble and the agonising whistle of ball just beyond Villa’s studs.
Here was football no longer simply easy on the eye, and fodder for the brain – but also enough to send the heart surging into the mouth.
Which now waters at the thought of a truly colourful Sunday ahead.
Following, of course, Saturday’s contractual obligation, that at least gives retro-philes a Seventies World Cup rematch after all - just not a repeat of the ’74 final, but the third-place play-off from four years earlier.
By contrast, the Spanish and Dutch have never clashed at a World Cup before – perhaps apt, when hearing the King of Spain tributes in the Netherlands’ national anthem.
Spain’s, of course, is lyric-less – despite witless wordsmiths’ valiant efforts in recent years.
But if their players can improve even on tonight’s slick display, then Wesley Sneijder will have to be at his decisive best – or Mark Van Bommel his destructive worst – if the Dutch aren’t to be the ones struck dumb.

"Beside the seaside, beside the sea..."

2010-07-07T18:42:00.003+01:00

THE ATTRACTIVE arch under which Spain and Germany play tonight makes Durban’s Moses Mabhida stadium a little like Wembley.
The three years flat in which the city’s old venue was knocked down and the new one knocked up rather ends the resemblance.
It was a bit of a frantic rush job to top them out in time, but South Africa’s World Cup stadia have proved finer – and longer-lasting – performers than the host nation’s players.
The big question now is: how can they be filled in future?
After all, it’s been trouble enough filling them for World Cup semi-finals – though any orange seats empty this Sunday should at least blend in with the crowd.
Soccer City in Johannesburg is already planning for a future that involves not just international football, but domestic rugby.
The country’s most popular rugby club, the Blue Bulls, contested one pre-World Cup match in the stadium.
In return, the national ‘Bafana Bafana’ football team prepared for the competition with a friendly at the Blue Bulls’ apparently-iconic home, Pretoria’s Loftus Versfeld.
Now the national rugby heroes, the Springboks, are lining up a Soccer City clash with New Zealand's All Blacks next month - perhaps bringing with them the ‘penalty goals’ some felt should have been awarded there when Luis Suarez handballed.
Compared to the sleek yet slightly insipid new stadia at Polokwane and Rustenburg, the old-fashioned rugby grounds ‘borrowed’ for this tournament have offered some of the most exciting vibes.
Wasted on rugby, really.
Loftus Versfeld and Johannesburg’s Ellis Park may lack modernistic elegance, but do boast bulk, straight lines and intensity.
Plus, they don’t double up with already-existing oval-ball strongholds, unlike the controversial new – but Table Mountain-friendly - World Cup stadium in Cape Town and its neglected neighbour Newlands.
The Moses Mabhida, on the other hand, is both spectacular and spine-tingling - while also fitting into a coherent forward plan for sporting showcases.
The ground sits just across the road from international rugby and athletics venues, part of the Kings Park sporting complex – and just a few Kevin Pietersen slogs from the Sahara Stadium that staged the 2003 cricket World Cup.
Little wonder that now a newly-confident South Africa is talking up an Olympics bid, Durban looks the most likely local candidate for 2020 or 2024.
That cluster of top-class sporting venues is even more compact than Stratford’s 2012 Olympic park (and without the threat of West Ham wanting to squat).
And while Brazil’s footballers have this month found themselves playing at 3C in Johannesburg and 25C in Cape Town, Durban in August is one of the surer bets for August Olympic sunshine.
Even if today’s unseasonally snippy winds and grey drizzle made the genteel architecture and palm-lined seafront feel less like Marine Parade, Durban - more Marine Parade, Worthing.

"Gold against the soul..."

2010-07-06T22:30:00.000+01:00

AFTER the curse of ‘Goldenballs’ might have struck his England pals – and Andy Murray – a different Golden Ball jinx looms over those in Soccer City this Sunday.
At the last three World Cups, the man voted best player has suffered a memorably forgettable final – making Fifa’s post-match announcement more poignant than triumphant.
In 1998, it was Ronaldo, suffering a fit before his Brazil offered pitiful resistance to the French.
Four years later he thrived as Germany’s Golden Ball – and Golden Gloves – winning goalkeeper Oliver Kahn turned butterfingers at the last.
And in 2006 Zinedine Zidane, having hauled even a Raymond Domenech-led France to the final, then butted them back out of the reckoning against Italy.
The rush to anoint this summer’s stand-out star has been frenetic from the start.
Pity poor Keisuke Honda, Alexis Sanchez or even Lionel Messi, as early bouquets brutally withered in popular consensus – or the unpopular Press.
Germany, whatever Wednesday night’s result, can at least count on a second successive prize for best young player.
Four years ago Lukas Podolski’s three goals, glimmers of brilliance and home favouritism put him above a scratchy field of Antonio Valencia, Cristiano Ronaldo and, er, that’s about it.
This time he and 25-year-old, 78-cap Bastian Schweinsteiger are almost gnarly elder statesmen in a German side faced with slicing the statuette in half for Thomas Müller and Mesut Özil.
But Mueller’s absence this evening is doubly unfortunate –semi-finals are the games that help clinch the bigger, round baubles, good news for Schweinsteiger or Spain’s David Villa.
Better news for Wesley Sneijder, who may have again been quiet for patches of tonight’s win over Uruguay – despite starting the first half of the first half in startlingly tenacious, pressing mood – but got good and slightly lucky with another crucial goal.
(Nice of his pal Robin van Persie to leave the ball, as it passed … if that’s indeed what he meant. Or if indeed it was legal. Both points debatable.)
Sadder news for Diego Forlan, whose passing looked a little off at times this evening, but who cut a dashing figure throughout even while shoved further forward and deprived of Luis Suarez – and scored with another swooshing shot, aided a little by a goalkeeper’s limp wrist.
Alternative contenders who seem surprisingly popular here in South Africa include usually-unfashionable full-backs such as Germany’s hollow-eyed Philipp Lahm or Spain’s wild-eyed Sergio Ramos.
He was a rare subdued Spaniard at Euro 2008, but has been a rampaging asset here – pause for thought, perhaps, for even Jose Mourinho as he ponders shifting him back into the middle in Madrid.
Other outsiders could yet include Iker Casillas, after that penalty save against Paraguay proved Sara Carbanero’s not his only impressive catch.
But he’d presumably prefer to lift another gold prize instead – and show he can do what Oliver Kahn couldn’t.
*
Today’s long drive south to Durban – from bitter to balmy, scorched fields to verdant valleys, mountainous heights to ear-popping sea level – evoked more memories of that 2006 tournament.
If only because after passing familiar-sounding places such as Heidelberg or Frankfort, Durban city centre was decked in German flags and welcomes of ‘Wilkommen’.
Perhaps every other team received similar tribute, though the only others still fluttering were for South Africa itself and long-departed Japan.
Viel Glück, perhaps, for Germany and ominous for those like myself who could happily watch Spain pass the phonebook.
Yet while Joachim Löw might cling to that treasured blue sweater – though tentacled turncoat Paul The Octopus now snubs his adopted Vaterland - tactics and technique should tonight mean more than signs and lucky charms.
Whoever does make the final, however, should maybe cross their fingers they can dodge that Golden Ball – let alone bump into doom-laden David Beckham.

"Monday Monday, can't trust that day..."

2010-07-05T21:50:00.000+01:00

THE WORLD may not end when the World Cup does, but even the tournament’s chief evangelist fears a hefty hangover could kick in next Monday morning.
And not just for those enjoying the special ‘locals’ prices’ in South Africa’s throbbing pubs and bars.
In city centres such as Pretoria and Johannesburg, foreigners are typically being charged three times as much for their drinks throughout the World Cup.
Locals, on the other hand, have been gifted ‘loyalty cards’, allowing them to escape any World Cup mark-up.
In keeping with the event’s hail-fellow-well-met vibe, however, many simply lend them to foreign guests at the bar – though with crucial words of advice.
It’s not enough to simply flourish a magic ticket – you have to be wise enough to order in Afrikaans.
Providing a warm welcome to the world has been no problem, but cannily and understandably cashing in at the same time has proved more of a challenge.
Estimates of World Cup visitor numbers, economic benefits and newly-created jobs have been flying around as haphazardly as a first-week Jabulani, and varying as dramatically as a Paraguayan team-sheet.
Latest claims suggest 1million new people entered the country in the last three months, up 25 per cent on the same period last year.
Yet those here just for the football are thought to number just 300,000 or so, forecasts having steadily fallen from the original 500,000 expected.
Pre-World Cup predictions had suggested 415,000 new jobs would be created and £4.8billion raised.
The South African government’s own £4billion infrastructure investment programme has inevitably been given a World Cup focus.
The transport, telecoms and security benefits should at least prove longer-lasting – and better-used – than the more remote and over-sized new stadia such as Nelspruit or Polokwane.
And the competition has certainly done much for the country’s confidence and morale, providing an intangible feelgood factor that has inevitably fuelled talk of a Durban Olympics bid for 2020 or 2024.
But Monday morning could bring an emotional comedown, even ahead of the damaging practical effects of the World Cup circus packing up and jetting off.
Even Danny Jordaan, the organising committee’s chief executive and leading campaigner for a South African World Cup since 1994, admits: ‘For a while we will be depressed.
‘But we can hold our heads high, knowing we have surpassed all expectations.’
Amid the more eye-popping warnings from campaigners, thousands could be added to the country’s already-growing jobless lists as the World Cup bubble bursts.
And senior politicians – including United Nations leaders and the Nelson Mandela Foundation – fear mounting unrest and rivalry for work could spark a new wave of deadly xenophobic attacks.
Many people have been working on fixed-term projects such as the new World Cup stadia only just finished in time or the £2.2billion Johannesburg-Pretoria ‘Gautrain’ railway.
There have already been complaints about local firms being frozen out of producing memorabilia, with contracts instead going overseas.
Street vendors have also faced crackdowns due to deals with sponsors including Budweiser and Adidas.
Yet not everyone will be frantically pounding calculators, working out just how beneficial this tournament might have been beyond ‘merely’ the (eventually) exciting football.
Football’s world governing body Fifa knows it should pocket £2.1billion in profits, having already boasted of sitting on a £131million surplus.
Trebles all round!

*

PARIS Hilton can perhaps count herself lucky – some coming before the ruthless ‘World Cup courts’ have been handed lengthy jail sentences for even ‘minor’ offences such as possessing the drug ‘dagga’.
Then again, it was quite some feat for anyone or thing in the Port Elizabeth stadium that day to prove even dumber – and higher – than Robin Van Persie’s free-kick.
Some suggest what really got Jennifer Rovero into trouble is the fact dagga just isn’t an approved Official Sponsor drug of the 2010 FIFA World Cup ™.

"Do you remember Walter...?"

2010-07-04T13:19:00.001+01:00

THE FIRST England manager – but, alas, not the last – to lead a woeful World Cup campaign had it easy, Fabio Capello might well moan.
So little was thought of Walter Winterbottom, one paper mentioned him just twice during the 1950 tournament.
Once when he advised his players to take afternoon naps, once when he checked hotel chefs could serve steak-and-kidney pudding.
England’s performances this summer can hardly have been less stodgy.
Yet Capello is not the only coach now commanding more column inches than his players have had hot dinners.
The cult of the manager scales new peaks - perhaps aptly, when such superstars as Rooney, Ronaldo and Kaka have been as anonymous as cartoon mascot Zakumi.
At least the leopard can blame vuvuzelas for stealing his symbolic South African thunder.
This World Cup has boasted perhaps the most experienced and prize-laden line-up of coaches, from the trophy-hoarding likes of Capello, Lippi and Hitzfeld to airmile-collectors Le Guen, Queiroz and Eriksson.
Yet after Raymond Domenech’s rudeness, Marcelo Lippi’s melodramatic mea culpa and Matjaz Kek’s press conference punchiness, the four left standing are among the least obtrusive of the lot.
At his second World Cup, Uruguay’s Oscar Tabarez – once Capello’s unfortunate and all-too-brief Milan successor - has been coldly ruthless in killing off not just one but two African challenges.
In those mad final moments against Ghana – sorry, ‘BaGhana BaGhana’ - on Friday, he kept somehow calm amid the most fearsome racket outside Rafael Nadal’s left hand.
His shuttling of the transformed Diego Forlan between poacher and playmaker roles has been inspired, while midfield toilers Perez and Arevalo back up the style – and guile – of Luis Suarez.
Spain’s hangdog Vicente del Bosque – a Champions League double-winning Real Madrid reject – might just be the politest coach here, perhaps why he’s now being linked with Japan.
Not only is he sharing the cameo roles between all of his substitutes, he still insists Fernando Torres is both fit and in-form.
No such delicacy from Holland’s Bert van Marwijk, a grizzled misery whenever dragged away from tinkling the ivories in his hotel lobby.
Yet he has achieved a near-miracle by dragging functional and – just about – unified performances from another traditionally-fractious Dutch squad.
Almost as mysterious is how his son-in-law Mark Van Bommel escaped a second World Cup booking, enjoying the good fortune denied Germany’s Thomas Muller.
Of the semi-final four, Germany’s Joachim Low is the most media-savvy ‘star’ – not something foreseen in unspectacular slogs with clubs in Austria and Turkey.
The suave German coach – well, as suave as cardigan-wearer can be – bears his worldliness rather better than Ghana’s Milovan Rajevac or Paraguay’s Gerardo Martino, men who look to have lived hard lives.
Not just hard lives, but a heavy night before – with Rajevac looking rather like Rising Damp’s Rigsby and Martino rivalling Jose Antonio Camacho as ‘World’s Sweatiest Manager’.
Tabarez may be dubbed the ‘Maestro’, for his schoolteacher previous.
But Low can bear the air of a slightly-smug, just-about-patient lecturer, explaining his schemes to split England’s leaden centre-backs apart or repeatedly tear down Argentina’s right like identifying a computer game glitch.
Curious to recall Capello came into the World Cup with a lavish new contract, while German talks were put icily on ice – the then-unloved Low condemned for alleged greed.
Some reports suggest his contract technically expired last Wednesday, making Saturday’s Argentina annihilation one he provided auf dem Haus.
Not a bad bargaining chip to play against the German FA, who got lucky themselves when landed with Jurgen Klinsmann’s little-heralded assistant six years ago.
If there is, though, no German reunification for Low and his own FA chiefs, perhaps ours might consider a job offer come August.
Doing so might not make us any better – but, after seeing the effect even on Capello, it might be our best hope of making Germans worse.
Even if poor neglected Walter, way back when, might have found such stuff impossible to swallow.

"Mit der Bang, mit der Boom, mit der Bing-Bang Bing-Bang Boom..."

2010-07-03T18:02:00.002+01:00

SO it was nothing like anything before, after all.
None of the closeness of, in their different ways, 1986 or four years later – even if today’s game was settled by Klose.
No chance for Messi to squeeze a match-winning performance out of himself – or the German defence – as Maradona had ultimately done 24 years ago.
Nor the kind of Argentine self-combustion, or German drabness, that characterised the turning of the tables four years later.
Argentina even took today’s 4-0 quarter-final trouncing with good grace, Maradona raging but perhaps mostly at himself – Messi sunk in sad resignation, before sobbing behind closed dressing-room doors.
But it was the way Germany performed such a demolition job that was both brutal and unique – unless you were to count, say, last Sunday’s dismantling of England.
This was another devastating display by Joachim Low’s renovated, re-energised side, doing the unpicking of Argentina that many had forecast – but not in quite such an exhilarating fashion.
Perhaps it was the early goal that was most important, slackness from Nicholas Otamendi – for the first but not the last time today, alas – allowing young-man-of-the-moment Thomas Muller to glance Germany into the lead.
How they might recover from going behind is a challenge for Spain or (presumably not) Paraguay to discover.
Yet for all the Argentine pressure to respond, the probing of Messi or the usual lung-busting from Tevez, the German defence proved impregnable throughout.
Messi was restricted to daftly-lofted, long range shots, while Di Maria stayed bafflingly isolated out on the right – barely given a run down his more natural left, though even there he might well have been stymised by the impeccable Philipp Lahm.
As against England, a 15-20-minute spell at the start of the second half looked the most likely time for an equaliser, but Germany remained stout – parking the VW camper van, perhaps?
Mertesacker and Friedrich hardly allowed any space behind them, while Schweinsteiger and Khedira maintained a kind of forcefield in front – and confident young ‘keeper Manuel Neuer gave an uncompromising wallop to any cross coming his way.
Schweinsteiger was, as against England, immense – performing both a composed role as a defensive shield, ushering the ball out of defence and into attack with briskness, and again occasionally remembering he used to be a pretty decent winger.
The slithering run through the Argentine defence, to tee up Germany’s third for Friedrich, was Messi-esquely irresistible – even if said Argentine defence included the lesser-tackling likes of Higuain and Di Maria.
Even when Argentina were battering at Germany’s door without the merest shaving slicing off, Maradona was maybe to slow to refresh his own, increasingly tired-looking team.
Milito was about to come on, perhaps for a blunt-again Higuain, only for Podolski’s scything run and Klose’s poached finish to double Germany’s lead – and effectively settle the game.
Pastore was eventually given 20 minutes to add to his meagre 16 before now, while Veron stayed on the bench throughout – presumably injured, especially since his presence had allegedly helped keep Cambiasso and Zanetti cast out of the squad.
But by the end, Argentina looked and were well-beaten, suffocated at one end and exposed at the other by a German team high on high-energy youth and vigour, counter-attacking cleverness – and unselfish teamwork.
Spain look about the most likely – or even the only – side who could outpass and outclass them. Simply by denying even these Germans the ball, especially with Muller so harshly suspended.
Schweinsteiger’s passing stats from today – just 52 from 84 were actually completed – are somewhat surprising, much less impressive or describe than his overall performance really proved to be.
No such supposed ‘slacking’ is likely from Spain. But now it’s Germany setting a very high standard, not necessarily for dominating possession but doing the most ruthless things with the ball.
Ruthless and efficient, those hoary old clichés – but undoubtedly attractive as well.

"And now you're gonna believe us, we've got the Argentinas..."

2010-07-03T14:27:00.001+01:00

IF YOU’RE only ever going to play two minutes of World Cup football, then Marcelo Trobbiano’s might be hard to beat.
He may not have scored the winner when appearing – briefly – for Argentina, in their 3-2 victory over West Germany in the 1986 final (the first I remember watching, aptly rapt).
In fact, he was replacing the man who had just scampered on to Diego Maradona’s needle-threaded through-ball to restore, this time decisively, Argentina’s lead.
But with the West Germans finally flagging, with no hope of clawing their way back into the match once more, Trobbiani could come on for the last two minutes of stoppage-time – just, well, to be there.
And while the one touch of the ball he did manage wasn’t the winner, or even a goal, or even an assist, it was simply stylish.
Just for being a backheel, the insouciance of a man who – having failed to feature in any of the preceding six matches – knows by just walking on to the pitch he’s strode into history. However glancingly.
Today’s quarter-final between Argentina and Germany has become the must-see match of the tournament so far, especially with Maradona not at the helm – however quixotically – of an Argentina team who have gone from abysmal in the qualifiers to rampant in the tournament itself.
Germany may have been a refreshing pleasure to watch so far, at least against Australia and England when Mesut Ozil has been dodging the attempts of defence or midfielder markers to tie him down or freeze him out. His passing and shooting have both been deft, but even without touching the ball he’s made opponents look leaden.
Plenty of credit, too, to Low’s mid-Euro 2008 rethink, the 4-2-3-1 revamp that so unsettled Portugal in the quarter-finals - now boosted further by Michael Ballack’s absence and the maturing of Bastian Schweinsteiger in a controlling new role.
Yet if any holding midfield enforcer is to keep Ozul quiet, then it should be Javier Mascherano – another dedicated yellow card-collector, but an expert reader of opposing attacks.
Like Butch Cassidy – he got vision, and the rest of the world (cup)’s wearing bifocals. Especially such squinters as, say, Vince Grella or Gareth Barry. Even Anthony Annan, industrious as ever, let Ozul slip his shackles for one punished moment.
While Ozil might be expected to dovetail with Muller down the wings, Messi this tournament has been more often picking up the ball in central positions – and with plenty of the pitch ahead of him.
Whether Schweinsteiger and Sami Khedira can not only keep him tightly enough constrained – and who better to wriggle free, but Messi – could be crucial.
Especially since, behind them, Friedrich and Mertesacker have looked vulnerable when exposed – and will also have the likes of Tevez and Higuain to trouble them anyway, whether the defence is being turned or being dragged wide.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor of my childhood bedroom – how spoilt my brother and I must have been, I realise – watching that 1986 final, even the eight-year-old mini-me could appreciate the villainous Maradona by then.
We’d already seen him close at, er, hand, having such ball-juggling fun in a Spurs shirt for Ossie Ardiles’s White Hart Lane testimonial the previous year.
He remains exhilarating to watch, whether demanding a football dance to his command, or compelling a Press pack to virtually eat out of that famous hand.
Just some of the 1986 final’s compelling competitiveness, lurching momentum, and irresistible flow of a football would be a treat today – hey, just half of last night’s drama should be enough to exhaust.
Let’s just draw a discreet veil over one rematch, that 1990 climax that was anything but. No one, not even Andreas Brehme’s nearest and dearest, could surely bear to see something like that again...

Blame it on the Black Stars...

2010-07-02T23:08:00.003+01:00

WELL, where do you begin with all that? Probably at the end, a very good place to start.
Or, at least, what should have been the end, but wasn’t quite.
The penalty box pinball, the Luis Suarez handball on the goal-line, Luis Suarez’s post-red card tears on the touchline, Luis Suarez’s post-penalty turn and air-punching and cheers halfway down the tunnel, after Asamoah Gyan’s penalty lofts up on to the crossbar and over.
All this in stoppage-time of extra-time in a World Cup quarter-final in the World Cup’s heartland stadium.
And all this accompanied by the most fearsome, awesome din, within the red-hot ‘calabash’ – or should that be, cauldron? – Soccer City.
Tonight, perhaps even more so than any of the three South Africa matches, the vuvuzelas really came into their own as ‘BaGhana BaGhana’ came so close to becoming the continent’s first World Cup semi-finalists.
Ah, but alas, someone must have stuffed the wrong final page into the script for tonight – for Ghana, for apparently Africa and certainly the 80,000+ here tonight cheering any Uruguayan error with as much hearty passion as they bestowed on Ghana’s positive play.
For the third time this tournament, Ghana were gifted a penalty due to handball, with Suarez proving as generous as Serbia’s Kuzmanovic and Australia’s Kewell.
Yet it was third time unlucky for Gyan, who may now sadly face rather more of the barracking back home in Ghana that almost prompted his international retirement two years ago.
He deserves admiration for, just a few minutes later, lofting a very similar spot-kick high into the net to level the shoot-out at 1-1.
Unfortunately, his captain John Mensah would then be audacious in his own way – but, despite the name, rather dumb – with a stodgy one-paced run-up and unconvincing prod straight at Fernando Muslera.
Maxi Pereira’s next spot-kick for Uruguay was as bad, but just differently, with a satellite-endangering effort, compared to which Chris Waddle’s was a daisy-cutter.
Yet it was then, oh dear, Odiyiah, and Inter Milan rookie Dominic saw his shot saved by Muslera, and phew, Abreu, as lumbering, lanky Sebastian gave Uruguay victory with that rare thing: a “Panenka” which was actually sad to see.
Ah, but the match itself … well, it was just a bit better than the ordeal which dragged all the way through to this tournament’s previous penalty shoot-out, the turgid clash between Japan and Paraguay.
Suarez’s selfless act at the death came after 120 minutes of selfishness at the other end, too often snatching at half-chances when colleagues might have been better positioned – or simply blasting witlessly at Richard Kingson or high and wide.
Yet Ghana too had their opportunities, often rather more clear-cut than Uruguay’s, especially after a first half-hour in which they looked in danger of being over-run and outclassed by the ever-probing Diego Forlan.
After being so impressed by the diligent Anthony Annan before now, it was a little dismaying to see him so sloppy in both passing and ball control this evening.
Both he and his team-mates looked a little nervy, perhaps feeling not the ‘ayoba’ but the weight of expectation – or, at least, ardent pan-African hope – now piled upon them.
Yet the sudden surge out of nowhere by Isaac Vorsah at a corner, when he thudded a header wide that should really have hit the target, appeared to inspire Ghana and inject them with confidence.
Kevin-Prince Boateng, especially, who responded to that miss with arm-pumping gestures either to his colleagues – or the crowd – and then a driving run that almost created the opener for Gyan.
Sulley Muntari’s blasé turn and sweeping shot past Muslera from about 40 yards ended the first half startlingly – though this was, of course, merely a taste of climactic action to come.
Forlan, conducting the game with such composure throughout, swirled in a typically elegant equaliser not long into the second half, and always looked dangerous – whether floating through midfield or fluttering wide and on the tip of offside.
Substitute playmaker Nicolas Lodeiro also enjoyed a rather more productive cameo than against France – then again, it could hardly be worse.
He provided neat and precises touches as Uruguay battled to weather Ghana’s extra-time storm, which at times had the four front players bombing forward as if racing each other to reach Muslera first.
Extra-time was end-to-end indeed, though Ghana had the stronger of the last five minutes, backed by a crazy crescendo of vuvuzela din from all those draped or painted in Ghana colours and brandishing banners urging them to ‘Make Africa proud’.
It was only when Abreu’s penalty dropped daintily in that the stadium seemed to empty, in an instant, of both sound and population, as this particular African dream died.
By the time the final rolls around, ‘ayoba’ should reassert itself and the distinctive host nation flavouring prioritised above pan-continental loyalties – but tonight there was a touching desperation to the belief invested in a neighbour.
Uruguay perhaps deserved a little more acclaim than merely the pantomime jeers and whistles greeting their every injury, but they had their part to play tonight – it just proved to be party-pooping done with both style … and guile.
Even as he misses the semi-final through suspension, Suarez certainly got away with it. All of Ghana, even Africa, will also miss out on Tuesday – and will be missed.

"Ain't understanding Melo..."

2010-07-02T18:03:00.001+01:00

DUNGA and Brazil had already been jolted out of their comfort zone even before Felipe Melo inexplicably lost the plot and cost his country World Cup glory.
Even as fans were still streaming away from Monday night’s emphatic win over Chile, Dunga was moaning about having to up sticks from their favourite Bloemfontein hotel and hit the road for the rest of the tournament.
‘It does interfere with our original plans because we were very well settled in our hotel in a very favourable atmosphere,’ he pouted, the poor lamb.
‘Now obviously we’re going to have to move from city to city, hotel to hotel, and this generates a certain degree of confusion.
‘But we only consider each situation game by game, though it would be advantageous to stay where we are. It has good training conditions.
‘We’re now going to have to confront a new situation, a new reality.’
Well, he need worry no longer, since soon he should find himself safely ensconced in home, unsweet home, after this afternoon’s elimination by the Dutch in Port Elizabeth.
Dunga was already distrusted by many Selecao supporters for his perceived negativity in team selection, both in defensive tactics and the exclusion of names such as Ronaldinho and Alexandre Pato.
Presumably, despite earlier Copa America and Confederations Cup glory, demands for Dunga’s head will make Fabio Capello look like a national treasure by comparison.
Yet in calculated measures against Chile, and for the first half today, Brazil looked to have the right blend of thrilling skill – and discipline.
It was the Dutch team, after four underwhelming wins in a row, who opened today’s match looking suddenly incoherent, especially the increasingly-antsy Robin van Persie and an Arjen Robben over-reliant on his favourite trick of cutting in from the right.
Robinho, in contrast, was proving much more elusive and penetrating, especially faced by a Dutch defence being properly tested for the first time by an opponent – and also disrupted by the last-minute injury to Joris Mathijsen.
Surely they could come up with a more reassuring reserve than Blackburn reject Andre Ooijer? Then again, seeing Khalid Boulahrouz next in line on the bench, perhaps not…
The through-ball bisecting the Dutch defence for Robinho’s opening goal was planted uncharacteristly sweetly Felipe Melo, at least.
But while the organisation of the Dutch defence was so haphazard, the Brazilians went one worse in the second half when opponents who had looked clueless before half-time were given a lifeline.
Julio Cesar, regularly described as one of the best goalkeepers in the world, should have done better – or, at least, something – when Wesley Sneijder’s free-kick curled past him and off Melo’s head into the net.
Substitute goalkeeper Heurelho Gomes would surely never have allowed such a soft goal to go in like that.
Presumably he’d either have given the ball a thumping punch clear – or given Melo’s head a thumping punch well out of the way.
Melo was to blame again for not marking stringently enough when Sneijder nodded in what proved to be the winner, from a corner that swept across the box like a stone skipping across water.
And, just for the hat-trick, Melo ensured not only his own Juventus fans will despise him by getting sent off for a daft stamp on Robben – before looking about as bemusingly nonchalant as anyone can be, having just killed off an entire country’s World Cup ambitions.
The whole team seemed to follow him in losing the plot after that.
Kaka’s close control was nowhere near as impeccable as usual, Dani Alves’ set-pieces were getting no better, and there was no real intelligent interplay or drive from the midfield onwards – especially in the absence of Ramires and the presence of Gilberto Silva.
Despite Sneijder again pressing his case for this year’s Ballon d’Or, the Dutch still looked unconvincing, with Kuyt anonymous save for a few ineffectual trudges and Marc van Bommel a walking red-card-in-waiting.
Perhaps those celebrating most will be whoever wins here in Soccer City this evening, as all Africa – well, most of it, surely, anyway – throws its hollersome weight behind Ghana.
Or, as today’s South African papers insist: ‘BaGhana BaGhana’.
Rather endearing? Or just a bit desperate? One or the other, at least – perhaps both...

"You and I travel to the beat of a different drum..."

2010-06-30T23:47:00.004+01:00

ENGLAND’S World Cup flops didn’t leave the World Cup entirely empty-handed – and that’s without counting the smokes and booze.
Ashley Cole and Jermain Defoe both have bulky new adornments for the mantelpiece, whether at Jermain’s dear old mum’s house or wherever Ashley lays his hat at nights these days.
In the face of non-existent competition, both players picked up official man of the match awards this summer – Cole against Algeria, Defoe versus Slovenia.
Not for prize sponsors Budweiser a same-old-same-old silver plate, trophy or figurine.
Instead, they are handing players a more distinctive keepsake, designed by a South African graduate and modelled on a traditional ‘djembe’ drum.
Jonathan Fundudis said he wanted his glass-and-wood sculpture to capture ‘the universal languages of rhythm and football in the form of an iconic African instrument’.
‘Drumming is an integral part of African life – it celebrates life and unity,’ he added.
‘The same can be said of this beautiful game of football – look at how the World Cup has unified our country.’
Ten players have received two of the trophies, including Keisuke Honda and Cristiano Ronaldo who both go home with three tucked under their arms.
But the drums now back on English soil might end up in a home no one could have expected – that is, poor hapless Emile Heskey’s.
As the England squad slunk off their plane at Heathrow on Tuesday morning, the misfiring striker’s young children could be seen playing with one of the prizes.
While, incidentally, grinning at the same time, but perhaps they at least can be let off for that.
*
WHAT with all their provocative cigar-smoking, lunch-guzzling, holiday-booking and – get this - smiling, England’s World Cup flops continue to leave a bad impression.
Yet they responded to earlier exits by enjoying a rather better impression.
It’s tricky to imagine Fabio Capello responding with calm if he caught a member of the England camp impersonating him behind his back.
Yes, even the rather desperate Capello of recent days, forcibly grinning Gordon Brown-style when joking about free beers or now pleading about how much he ‘likes’ his job.
Yet former FA insider Dan Freedman found himself confronted by Sven-Goran Eriksson in the hours after the 2002 quarter-final defeat to Brazil – and ordered to ‘do’ the Swede in front of the class, to help lighten the tension.
Freedman, now author of children’s football fiction including new book Man Of The Match, recalls: ‘He took it in good spirits, but I was absolutely full of nerves at the time.’
He now writes football novels for children about wonderkid winger Jamie Johnson, including new book Man Of The Match – promising a happier ending than England’s woeful World Cup.
‘I had to create Jamie Johnson because, at the moment, we simply don't have a player like him in reality,’ he added.
According to another incident Freedman remembers, Capello’s men might count themselves lucky only to be showered in abuse this time.
‘When we lost away in Croatia, some fans who were kept in the upper part of the ground after the game even urinated on the players as they made their way on to the team coach,’ he shuddered.
Perhaps the players’ displays this summer were their own way of doing it back.
*
LIONEL Messi is ‘The Spark’, Diego Forlan is ‘The Bomber’, David Villa is ‘The Blaze' and John Paintsil is ‘The Engine’.
No, it’s not the set-up for a new Fifa film franchise, a World Cup version of ‘The Fantastic Four’ – even if the basso profundo film-trailer voiceover man could really give some oomph to Bastian Schweinsteiger.
(‘The Illusionist, in case you were wondering – perhaps it was he who convinced Mauricio Espinosa the ball didn’t cross the line.)
Instead, these are just some of the try-hard titles given to a set of paintings on display in the swanky Johannesburg suburb of Sandton.
According to the exhibition’s major sportswear firm backers, Steve Gerrard is, apparently, ‘The Powerhouse’.
Alas, his portrait appears to have been based not on the kind of all-action display sadly missing this summer, but an old photo of Gerrard as a perky-faced schoolboy.
The kind of picture to make even the most rampant powerhouse wail: ‘Muuuuuum!’
Jozy Altidore, incidentally, is described as ‘The Trigger’, even if he played more like a carthorse last Saturday.
And here's Kaka, looking like his much-discussed fitness concerns aren't necessarily injury-related:

*
MISCHIEVOUS Diego Maradona keeps on happily lashing out at Press conferences that have had to become ticket-only.
Now Italian hardman Claudio Gentile has retaliated after being labelled ‘a killer’, by dismissing the Argentina coach as ‘a buffoon’.
The pair went toe to toe – or, rather, boot to shin – in a 1982 World Cup clash, after which the less-than-genteel Gentile reminded his indignant victim this wasn’t dancing-class.
Maradona could dish out a kicking himself, as shown by a red card that tournament and infamous streetfight-style footage from the 1984 Spanish Cup final.
Earlier this week, he condemned Ricardo La Volpe as ‘a traitor’ after the former Argentina goalkeeper and ex-Mexico coach said he would cheer on the Mexicans last Sunday.
Twenty years ago, Maradona was provocatively urging the locals to snub their own homeland and support Argentina in their Naples semi-final at Italia 90.
Consistency has never really been part of Maradona’s make-up – and perhaps that’s all just part of the fun.
*
AFTER all the doomy, gloomy fears and warnings yesterday finally brought the nightmare everyone knew must come but no one wanted to imagine.
For the first time in 20 days, there was not a single minute of live football.
And what’s more, there’s another 24 hours without it today.
Stay strong. Together we can get through this. See you on the other side.

"All we are saying is give pace a chance..."

2010-06-29T23:39:00.006+01:00

“We failed to slow them down.”
Perhaps it was just the customary sombre tone – and slumping head – that made Marcelo Bielsa’s resigned post-match verdict sound so sad, as if he was announcing the end of the world rather than Chile’s World Cup.
Yet there was something both poignant in his distress, and yet admirable in the reminder his words gave of Brazil’s thrilling pace in attack – and Chile’s valiant attempts to fight back.
Even when 3-0 down, an unfortunately emphatic scoreline, Bielsa’s now widely-admired team kept pressing, kept passing, kept trying to keep Brazil pinned back without sacrificing their own commitment to open spaces and fluid movement.
Quality tells in the end too, of course – meaning Brazil could not only ultimately overpower their willing opponents, but also counter-attack with more devastating effect than Portugal could manage 24 hours on.
Like their brothers-in-language, Portugal were set up against Spain to absorb pressure and hit back on the break.
But unlike Dunga’s men, Portugal lacked – as, seemingly, ever – a lethal finisher after the fashion of Luis Fabiano, or playmakers accelerating quite like Kaka or Robinho.
While Chile – as against Spain – hurtled forward from kick-off in high-energy style, they were a little too fuzzy up-front with enganche Jean Beausejour less menacing than he might have been on the wing – or Valdivia or Fernandez might have been in his place.
Humberto Suazo almost tried to do too much, proving somehow too elusive, as he flitted from tip of attack to deep in midfield – and claiming almost every set-piece for himself.
Yet they remained attractive to watch as ever, even after being undone by a quickfire brace – Juan’s basic pummelling header from a basic lofted corner, then a treat of technique linking Robinho, Kaka and scorer Fabiano.
Brazil’s third goal, while harsh, was another one whisked out of the (yellow-and-)blue, created by a driving-running Ramires and swept home by Santos homeboy, the rejuvenated Robinho.
Dunga, talking a surprisingly patient and informative game afterwards, suggested Robinho was now combining both tactical nous – and free-spirited fulfilment.
‘Robinho’s played in varied positions and he asked me, “What is my function?”
‘I asked if he didn’t feel a bit constrained with his positioning. He said, “No, I just want to play and I just want to score.”’
The man who once boasted of ‘no more joga bonito’ is placing trust in his players to at least make their own minds up, though evidently with instructions when it comes to defending – seven men, at least, back when conceding possession – and other (almost-paradoxical) commands to be flexible.
‘My players have the liberty to play,’ he insists.
‘I try to give them advice, to guide them to have the best performance. So we know when the midfield is very closed, we try to go down the flanks, for example.
‘We’re fortunate enough to have players who can play in different positions. Robinho can exchange positions with Kaka, for example.
‘Kaka moved more down the wings and Robinho’s positioning confused the Chilean defence a little bit and this allowed us to score.’
Very big on giving a ‘for example’ each time, perhaps this is Dunga the pragmatist, Dunga the empiricist.
But as Woody Allen’s new film suggests, Whatever Works, and so far the Brazilian approach does, and with slightly more dazzle than the Dunga reputation going before him.
They’ve certainly offered a little more excitement than a Dutch team that really is grinding out results, though always with the promise of more expansiveness ahead – whenever they want, whenever they need.
A third World Cup meeting with Brazil since 1994 this Friday will surely have to enliven them, especially in revenge for those two previous defeats.
Spain, of course, should have a much smoother task ahead when facing Paraguay on Sunday, especially after Gerardo Martino’s men barely squeezed past Japan.
Their penalty shoot-out in Pretoria was of a much higher quality than the 120 minutes preceding, both teams looking understandably cautious as each teetered on the brink of a first ever last-eight place.
Yet Spain too still looked to be playing a little within themselves, in inching past Iberian rivals Portugal thanks to another David Villa goal.
The fact he fluffed the first shot before sweeping in the rebound with his other foot might detract slightly from the majesty of the winner, though yet again it was his new Barca team-mate Andres Iniesta providing an assist with utmost precision.
In fact, the (eventual) finish only emphasised what an inexorable goalscorer Villa is – his seventh in seven World Cup appearances suggested even when he does miss, he still scores merely a split-second later.
The breakthrough goal came just minutes after Fernando Torres was withdrawn, having looked – if anything – even more lumpen than ever. If he’s the Spanish Emile Heskey – ideally, creating the space allowing Villa to flourish – then tonight he proved as irrelevant as the actual Heskey is to the other Villa.
More encouraging signs were there, including another rampant display by Sergio Ramos – one of the few who were relatively subdued at Euro 2008, but here in South Africa storming down the right without looking too much of a liability behind.
Rumours suggest Jose Mourinho intends to shift him back into the middle of the backline at Real Madrid, but even ‘The Special One’ might struggle to restrain him entirely.
Despite all Spain’s possession, Portugal did manage to stymie them for more than an hour – and not only thanks to some robust and well-timed heroics from Braga goalkeeper Eduardo.
The Portuguese even managed to create the most clear-cut – if opportunistic – chances in the first half, only to be let down as ever by their substandard striking. Echoes of Pauleta – at tournaments, anyway – all over again.
And a subdued – and, later, sullen – Ronaldo certainly didn’t help, either the team he was supposedly captaining or those sportswear executives spooked by an alleged ‘Nike curse’.
A shamelessly blame-shifting Ronaldo suggested after the game, perhaps having received tuition at Patrice Evra’s captaincy academy: ‘Blame Queiroz.’
But his peripheral performances, both in qualifying and on the South African stage, will reasonably see questions asked of by far the world’s most expensive player.
As one of his Nike pals might put it instead – all together, one two three: ‘D’oh!’

"Just like a wavin' flag..."

2010-06-29T18:22:00.002+01:00

WORLD Cup referees went back to school today – and not before time, you might well think.
All those not on match duty elsewhere were called to class at Pretoria's F H Odendaal school, to practice such fiendish tasks as running with a flag in hand or not getting hit by the ball.
Well, not quite everyone was there to answer the register – predictably enough, despite assurances to the contrary, two under-fire refs sent notes to excuse their absence.
Roberto Rossi and England’s villain Jorge Larrionda both opted to spend the day in their hotel rooms instead of facing colleagues – or, more understandably perhaps, the mouth-foaming Press.
While those two dunces stayed in bed, England’s last man standing Howard Webb could saunter around as school swot having achieved the remarkable feat of ... making no major blunders so far.
(While, admittedly, doing about as sensibly as could be when both Italy and Slovenia started playing silly beggars - resisting temptation to flash a red card or several, that might only have turned the closing moments even more chaotic.)
He even felt comfortable enough chatting about – while, of course, playing down – his chances of being given the final, the refereeing equivalent of being made head boy.
And there was a visit by former pupil Urs Meier, who might have offered Larrionda advice on being England’s public enemy number one – though there’s more competition this time from the coach and players.
Meier was the Euro 2004 official who had the audacity to disallow Sol Campbell’s late ‘winner’ against Portugal, merely because an opponent attacked the elbow of England’s Brave John Terry.
But despite suffering torment by tabloid in 2004 – with nuisance calls and death threats from England’s lunatic fringe – magnanimous Meier was yesterday surprisingly sympathetic.
He spoke out in favour of goal-line technology – and insisted serving officials all agreed, but were too frightened to speak out until safely retired.
Those running today’s lessons – including hapless headmaster figure, refs’ boss Jose Maria Aranda - had done their best to recreate match conditions.
The portable plastic goals and patchy training pitches, overlooked by stern redbrick school halls, looked more village green than Soccer City.
But some rickety speakers blared out a recording of incessant vuvuzelas, one to file on your shelves next to Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music.
Meanwhile, elsewhere Sepp Blatter was making an astonishing apology – and U-turn on video technology – in rather plusher surroundings, a swanky hotel in upmarket Sandton.
His words still got quickly back to refs’ school, however – printed on 200 sheets of A4 and rushed to Pretoria by police escort.
Over-reaction or otherwise, Sepp’s statement was weighty indeed, marking a ‘road to Damascus’ conversion – if, indeed, this proves more than just a time-stalling sop to be kicked back into long grass when – that is, if – the current fuss fades.
It could yet mean war with Uefa president Michel Platini, if his pet project of two extra assistant referees on the touchlines actually gets moved to the sidelines instead.
But then, Blatter is bidding for Fifa re-election next summer and might be vulnerable to someone promising populist reform.
And ven the folksy-talking, ‘Teflon Sepp’ must have felt embarrassed on Sunday, the afternoon that left English, Uruguayans and Swiss all for various reasons sent to the bottom of the class.

"Whistle a tune and think of a catchy, happy little song..."

2010-06-29T18:17:00.002+01:00

LOOK a little on the sunny side, advised the Kinks – even when you feel you’re on the slide.
Easier said done yesterday morning after the nightmare before, especially with the usually crystal-clear sky above South Africa surprisingly clogged by grey clouds – just waiting to envelop England’s plane.
The drizzly gloom made it more of an effort to find signs of cheer, though for those of us lucky to be sticking around there are of course plenty – from the richest enjoyment to the smallest of pleasures.
For a start, not everyone in the England squad comes out badly – Michael Dawson, at least, has played a blinder.
Just recalling his beaming, tongue-wagging excitement when bounding on to a Rustenburg-bound plane must toast even the chilliest heart – even if he did spent his surprise holiday parked with Rodney Trotter’s ‘Groovy Gang’ kids.
Then there’s the finishing of Spain’s happy slapper number seven, David proving the most audacious Villa outside a Donald Trump estate.
Or the finishing, for alternative entertainment, of Nigeria’s too-well-fed Yak.
That wise(ish) new greybeard Diego Maradona, on the touchline or at ticket-only press briefings, in both settings kicking as many balls as he can.
Or his lumbering full-back Gabriel Heinze getting nutted by a camera, then giving it a bit of a slap in return.
The legions of stadium volunteers who refuse to simply point to an allotted seat but insist on clambering all the way with you – only to invariably need extra sherpas sent out for themselves.
Or else the Cameroon fan who made his vuvuzela sound like the chilling saxophone stabs from Bernard Herrmann’s ‘Taxi Driver’ score.
The under-rated ‘keeping of Wigan’s number three Richard Kingson, and the clever tenacity of Kofi’s alleged nephew Anthony Annan – despite looking about as well-built for a holding role as Lionel Messi or Shaun Wright-Phllips.
And the whole Ghana team’s Roy Of The Rovers exploits, from the winner against America to their Melchester Rovers borrowed colours.
Or Jogi Löw’s strangely lovable German whizzkids, or Dunga’s silky yet street-tough Brazilians, or the Uruguay of Sally Gunnell double Diego Forlan – a revelation as poacher-turned-playmaker, even if we’ve probably heard enough now of how he flopped at Old Trafford.
The prospect of Messi taking on his Barca mates, and the laughable fact he somehow still hasn’t scored – and the feeling that after a first, he might just hit five in the final.
And the assurance that an exciting climax can’t now be bogged down by that most tainted ‘golden generation’, stinking out 2010 as they did 2006.
A fair few breaks in the clouds, then, at least.
Even if, for England, it might feel like – to flick to another Kinks track – there was no hope, no reasoning, this rainy day in June.

"They'll hit you and hurt you..."

2010-06-28T10:27:00.002+01:00

‘SOME things you will see – and some you will not see.’
So smiled Jerome Valcke, Sepp Blatter’s right-hand man at Fifa, as he talked up officials on the eve of yesterday’s England-Germany encounter.
But he was talking about those providing extra security outside the ground, not the match officials doing so much for English insecurity within.
What at least 15,000 England fans did see – but not one Uruguayan in charge – was that rarest of sightings: a World Cup ‘goal’ by Frank Lampard.
A World Cup shot in target by Lampard was startling enough, which might explain Mauricio Espinosa’s apparent daze.
What then went missing was the equalizer for England, surely sparking campaigns for not only (Monte)video technology, but a 43-year statute of limitations on claiming for goal-line karma.
All this will have been seen by Valcke’s boss Sepp Blatter, a strangely low-profile presence at this World Cup – apart from Blatter’s ‘tweets’, or ‘bleats’, on Twitter.
He had let followers know he was on his way to Bloemfontein, though probably didn’t see the same traffic jams as England fans taking the only main road in – the N1 from Johannesburg.
Struggling along that highway from Jo’burg wouldn’t be England’s last difficulty of the day caused by the route-one approach.
An abandoned, emergency-landed light aircraft sat by the side of the road, about 25km north of the stadium – another odd sight, and perhaps an omen.
A warning that sky-high aspirations might be brought down to earth with a bump?
Or that you won’t go far if you set out with only one proper wing.
Supporters making their way along Bloemfontein’s Nelson Mandela Drive – no South African city should be without one – might have noticed Swiss fans had left a more lasting mark than their team managed.
Spraypainted across street furniture was the optimistic – or perhaps ambiguous – ‘Allez Suisse’. Allez oops.
Perhaps that was done by mischievous Swiss mister Blatter himself.
What no one could have missed inside the stadium itself were English flags everywhere – just as there had been in Rustenburg the previous evening, reminders of how the journey to glory was supposed to pan out.
Back in Bloemfontein when the ref finally ended yesterday’s misery, England fans stooped in the stands or slumped in their seats seemed in no mood to blame him – well, not blame him alone, anyway.
How typically, eccentrically English it all felt, to be so authentically robbed – and yet so emphatically outclassed at the same time.
For what everyone did see yesterday was a sluggish, unimaginative England bamboozled by Germans showing more devastating intelligence, incisiveness and just counter-attacking zip.
Mesut Ozil and Thomas Muller rightly enjoyed the acclaim - along with Joachim Low, who had the faith to promote them from the U-21s, just as Louis Van Gaal fast-tracked and transformed raw Bayern talents into Champions League finalists.
But Bastian Schweinsteiger also showed up - even more - the sorry and out-of-shape Gareth Barry, combining composed rigour in defensive midfield with dynamic and intelligent surges into attack when suitable. A holding-midfielder-PLUS, the instincts and technique of a winger still simmering.
Meanwhile, England - having shifted John Terry uncomfortably to the right of central defence, all the better to showcase Matthew Upson's clod-hopping left foot - remained dulled and doltish throughout.
Even when they did put a few passes together, they tended to be the shortest and most exchanged across a flat-back-four, as if filling a quota before invariably allowing themselves the treat of ... an aimless, witless punt up-field.
Pass-pass-pass-pass ... hoof, back to Neuer.
Germany even did that old English staple, the long ball, better.
On the eve of the match, Valcke also said Fifa never expected a ‘zero-fault’ tournament.
That time he was talking about referees and linesmen – and this time few could argue.
Though he could have been referring to English defenders.

"Never Ghana give you up..."

2010-06-26T23:12:00.000+01:00

IN A parallel universe, Wayne Rooney is currently stewing over the second World Cup red card of his career – emulating Rigobert Song and Zinedine Zidane – after again lashing out as England are crashing out.
Perhaps that’s just a little harsh on newly-matured, new father Rooney – or maybe instead tempting fate, as England prepare for that German clash on Sunday afternoon.
Yet it was tempting to imagine, as the US toiled – only to be foiled – against the ‘Black Stars’ of Ghana, just how England might have coped in this apparently-easier fixture.
Having struggled so dismally to penetrate both the US and Algerian defences already, England could well have struggled some more against a formidably compact and well-organised Ghana backline.
A few weary lapses aside - especially as tonight’s extra-time encounter dragged on - it was hard not to admire a defence marshalled by John Mensah and bravely (sometimes foolhardily) bolstered by his young namesake John.
And in front of that granite-hard back four, the ever-diligent, always-pressing, under-sized Anthony Annan – a nephew of Kofi’s, he claims – was keeping both defence and attack ticking neatly over, despite looking like a mascot who just won’t be shooed-off.
For the unlucky USA, twice more caught napping after an opening whistle, Landon Donovan yet again emerged as “Mandon” Donovan.
As dynamic on the pitch this summer as he has been drably taciturn off it, it was his seizing of momentum and surging more purposively forward after half-time that threatened to upend Ghanaian control of the game.
His neat through-ball led to the penalty he himself clipped past the otherwise-excellent – and under-heralded – Wigan sub ‘keeper Richard Kingson.
But despite drawing level, when they should have shifted up several gears more the American momentum somehow again stalled – and Ghana could see out the match if not quite in comfort, then certainly at their own preferred pace.
Perhaps, in the end, the likes of Donovan, Dempsey and coach’s son Michael could do strive so much when carrying lesser drudges such as the error-prone Richard Clark and too many blunt-edged, surprise-call-up strikers.
The sprawling Rustenburg athletics-track stadium perhaps does not quite do full justice to a breakthrough sure to be acclaimed as redemptive for an entire continent, at this African World Cup.
Ghana can certainly expect to benefit from full-throated support throughout the rest of their run – though, as cold-conscious medics are now imploring, do make sure only your own throat has been filling that vuvuzela.
And Soccer City – twice the size – next Friday should certainly be crackling with just a little more charge, even before
But then, before Asamoah Gyan powered his way through to that extra-time winner – his fourth World Cup goal, just one behind the continent’s top scorer, that man Roger Milla – Ghana looked badly in need of a prolific, pure finisher.
Someone like, say, Diego Forlan – or Luis Suarez, this afternoon’s hero with a pearler of a curler, just when it looked like sitting back to soak up South Korean possession might just Uruguay and their unusually-sloppy defenders.
Next Friday should provide, then, an engaging battle between two contrasting – yet both attractive – styles.
In the meantime, Ghana’s energy-sapped, collapsing ‘Black Stars’ should probably catch up on plenty of rest.
They might need it – and they certainly deserve it.

Hod one out...

2010-06-26T16:18:00.003+01:00

NICOLAS Sarkozy has been shown a yellow card as the French farce that dumped the country out of this World Cup could now see them barred from future competitions - though the threat could puzzle one ex-England boss with a penchant already for scratching his head...
The French president has ordered an investigation into all that went so disastrously wrong with Raymond Domenech’s revolting squad, who flew home in economy and as first-round flops this week.
But world football chiefs have already been on the phone, warning French politicians to be careful – after all, government interference could break Fifa rules.
Other countries have been suspended from playing international matches – and receiving Fifa money – when governments have meddled in football federation affairs.
At least 15 nations have not only had their wrists slapped but their Fifa membership suspended during the past few years – including three-time offenders Iraq, Euro 2012 hosts Poland and then-reigning European champions Greece.
Euro 2008 winners Spain have also been threatened with Fifa action, a case cited today by Fifa chief executive Jerome Valcke as he insisted the ‘bigger’ footballing countries were not protected species.
He said: ‘It’s like Iraq and other countries, it’s not that because it’s in Europe it’s treated differently.
‘I spoke to the sports ministry office and told them to be very careful, that there can’t be political interference in what’s happened.
‘They can meet, they can discuss, they can ask for apologies from the different people that have been involved.
‘But any time there is interference Fifa will react, for France as for any other country in the world.’
Suspension also means a country loses its vote at Fifa congress – something El Salvador recovered just in time for the summit earlier this month, when their recent ban was lifted.
Iraq received their third sanction in quick succession last November, when the country’s government ordered security forces into the Iraqi Football Federation’s HQ.
Other nations to suffer similar punishments in recent years include Peru, Madagascar, Chad, Ethiopia, Brunei Darussalam and Kuwait (twice).
Poland almost had the Fifa whip withdrawn in 2008 when the government threatened to replace the country’s football association with an administrator, in a row over co-hosting plans for Euro 2012.
And Spain were threatened with similar that year, when the sports minister demanded all sporting bodies hold new presidential elections – before backing down when the Fifa call came through.
What Sarkozy or his motormouthed sports minister Roselyne Bachelot could have done is express their disapproval on a French equivalent of This Morning – Ce matin, perhaps?
After all, it was when subjecting himself to yet another of TV’s toughest grillings that Tony Blair did for England coach Glenn Hoddle, over his comments about the disabled in 1999.

Blair gave just the simple, fateful word ‘Yes’, when worn down by fearsome interrogator Richard Madeley and the query: ‘If Glenn Hoddle has said what he is reported to have said, should he go?’
Within hours the Evening Standard was splashing with his alleged demand for Hod’s head, and sure enough FA bosses quickly made sure Glenn atoned with his job for his current-life sins.
To be fair, this was one regime change that Mr Blair did swiftly regret.
Alistair Campbell’s diaries tell of a genuine camaraderie between the men, sharing sympathy over scrutiny of their respective ‘toughest jobs’ and both being committed to England’s bid to stage the 2006 World Cup.
Well, someone had to be.
Campbell does seem genuine – or, at least as close to genuine as can be – when describing the gloom he and the PM felt, when realising the effect of those This Morning words.
The man who allegedly ‘never said them things I said’ would later admit feeling ‘surprised’ at the PM’s intervention – ‘because he didn’t know the facts, that is what saddened me’.

Glenn’s goose was probably already reaching roasting point, alas, after that diary of his own and the lacklustre opening Euro 2000 qualifiers.
But it’s still sad to recall just how his truly-promising England team of 1997-1998 – well-knitted, composed on the ball and with added Owen – under-achieved, their qualities so quickly squandered.
Graeme Le Saux’s doziness against Romania, David Beckham’s petulance against Argentina – two aberrations that prematurely ended England’s World Cup, in a tournament where only Brazil looked unbeatable.
Only to go on to half-beat themselves.
Tony Blair and the English FA escaped back then – though perhaps it’s only fair Fifa inexplicably weren’t tuning in to Richard and Judy that day.
Both parties would put themselves through plenty of suffering, if not actually sanctions, in the torrid and conflicted years to come. Could be karma...

"Sitting here in my safe European home, don't want to go back there again..."

2010-06-25T22:50:00.003+01:00

A NEW depression is spreading across Europe.
Greece have already gone into leaderless meltdown, Italy rapidly heading that way too.
Ireland have long since bailed out already, while Spain and Portugal have had to do some tricky clinging on – though desperate times mean they must now turn on each other.
So much for the so-called PIIGS.
Elsewhere, despite a brief recent upturn England remains vulnerable and split in top leadership positions, while Germany is starting to creak under the burden of maintaining momentum.
Meanwhile, Brazil continues to thrive – alongside emerging South American neighbours – while efficient Asian nations surge forward while Africa still struggles.
It’s not the economy, stupid – but the World Cup, of course, now making tough cutbacks of its own by shedding 16 squads.
Seven of those flying home are doing so to Europe, leaving just six from what was the tournament’s best-represented continent.
And all six now face each other in what is somewhat inelegantly, yet universally being referred to as ‘the round of 16’ (rather than, say, simply the second round).
That does still guarantee that almost half of this summer’s quarter-finalists will come from Europe, and despite recent difficulties most bookies would hesitate to price Spain much longer odds than marginal favourites Brazil.
Yet the overwhelming mood seems to reflect a South American surge at the expense of old Europe, especially with the catastrophic plunges of France and Italy.
Key factors vary for each team, making any attempts at sweeping explanations rather difficult – and, also, unhelpful.
Yet several have suffered for lack of ambition and imagination, above all this evening’s casualties Switzerland.
Having conceded no goals during four games in 2006, before losing on penalties to the Ukraine, they exceeded expectations by beating European champions Spain in the first match this time around.
While not especially pleasing on the eye, the muscular work of Blaise Nkufo and the selfless persistence of Eren Derdiyok helped pull off a counter-attacking triumph – marked by Gelson Fernandes’ admittedly-scrappy winning goal.
Yet, after losing by the same scoreline to a more vigorous Chile, tonight’s insipid goalless draw against Honduras allowed Chile to go through despite losing to Spain.
After leading Chile one stage further than he managed with his native – and then much-admired – Argentina eight years ago, Marcelo Bielsa will struggle to find anyone begrudging him.
With their grain-opposing fondness for a 3-3-1-3 formation, Chile have certainly been one of the most curious propositions of the tournament so far – and also one of the most exciting to watch, with Matias Fernandez pulling strings and Alexis Sanchez pulling full-backs to shreds.
There was a fear, however, that the progressive return to form of a Swiss-shellshocked Spain might just be enough this evening to not only topple Chile from the top of Group H, but from the qualifying places all together.
Any Swiss win could easily have left Chile to rue the hordes of chances they created for just one goal apiece in the two previous games.
They did look like paying a hefty price for further wastefulness against Spain, most head-shakingly a close-range, 11th-minute shot blazed embarrassingly over by Mark Gonzalez.
Found in space on the end of Beausejoir’s cutback cross, the winger born not too far away in Durban showed finishing worthy of the Bafana Bafana.
And he and his team-mates were swiftly made to pay, as Spain were roused by another audacious goal by happy slapper David Villa – lofting in a first-time shot from not far inside the Chilean half, after goalkeeper Claudio Bravo had raced out to clear.
Encouragingly for Barcelona fans, and ominously for La Liga opponents, new Catalan signing Villa was soon combining deftly and incisively with a left-scurrying Andres Iniesta.
Back in the side after yet another of his season’s injuries, Iniesta virtually passed the ball into the net after a one-two with Villa – paying no heed to Fernando Torres lying slumped in the background.
While his strike partner is flourishing – his first goal against Honduras and his strike against Chile making him perhaps the most audacious Villa outside a Donald Trump estate – Torres is toiling.
Like the substitute who later replaced him, Cesc Fabregas, the injuries of the past season look to have left their mark – leaving neither one looking quite sharp enough, either in body or mind.
In both matches so far, Torres has tended to snatch wildly at chances with his feet, or miscue with his head, while the Fabregas cameos have been tentative, to put it politely.
Robin van Persie and Wayne Rooney – goalless and spark-less ever since that injury against Bayern Munich – are also still playing their way back into condition, in the most scrutinised of circumstances.
Van Persie is off the mark now at least, while for all the carping Rooney continues to face his movement did look a little more nimble and defence-stretching against Slovenia.
Bringing the very best out of Rooney on Sunday will be Capello’s most pressing challenge, while Del Bosque faces further tinkering to a side whose displays he rightly termed ‘weird’.
Sergio Busquets hares here, there and everywhere across the field, with admirable energy – though perhaps not always with such need or indeed helpfulness.
The Spain of Euro 2008, for all their eye-boggling tiki-taka – allied with the urge and ability to counter-attack at lightning-speed when crucial – had at their base the immaculate Marcos Senna in holding midfield.
His unfussy distribution, barely-there-but-triumphant tackles, and ability to cut off more passes than the cast of Bonanza ought really to have renamed the so-called ‘Makalele role’.
His own injury-dogged season with a below-par Villareal meant he misses out this summer.
Perhaps it has also been a temptation to stamp his own mark on Luis Aragones’ prestigious achievers that prompts Del Bosque to field not just one deep-lying midfielder but two, in the form of Busquets and Xabi Alonso.
Yet in the marginally underwhelming Spain games so far, this has resulted in phases of frustration, when the likes of Xavi and Iniesta have been forced higher up the pitch – trying to launch those mesmering moves with a little less space opening up clear ahead.
David Silva disappointed in the first game, Jesus Navas has tried to hurl over a madly prolific number of crosses without quite connecting right, while Javi Martinez and Juan Mata have not quite got hold of the games in short substitute appearances.
Already only four of Spain’s 19 outfield players are still waiting for their first 2010 World Cup action, suggesting the strength in depth of the squad – but also a nagging sense of Del Bosque still fine-tuning.
Or maybe he’s just trying to keep everyone happy.
The trailing jet smoke of the now-flown French and Italian squads should act as some solace for all European survivors – there but for the grace (not hand) of God, go we…
The Dutch did did manage three wins out of three, despite their performances being about as flat as, well, the Netherlands – though stabs of élan from Elia and Sneijder suggest there should be plenty more still to come.
Although a defence featuring the old-timer likes of Van Brockhorst and Boulahrouz hardly looks like a World Cup-winning rearguard in waiting, the evidence so far suggests they make more than the sum of their parts.
After all, Bert van Marwijk’s side conceded fewer goals than any other European side during qualifiers and have let in just one so far at the tournament itself – and that a Samuel Eto’o penalty, in Thursday’s meaning-lite third match.
Perhaps the most mouthwatering test for that defence would come from the tournament’s strongest attack, the rich Argentina palette of Messi, Tevez, Higuain, Milito and, yes, even ever-willing hoofer Martin Palermo.
Their respective routes to the final would mean having to meet in the final itself, an alluring rematch of 1978 – though this time with added Maradona, one of three players cut at the last moment from Cesar Luis Menotti’s squad back then.
But before then, for all their dreamlike movement and interconnectedness up front, Argentina’s own wobbly defence might have been toppled by others.
Even against the lowly likes of Nigeria, South Korea and Greece, failings and fissures could be glimpsed at the back – whether in the gaping spaces left behind false right-back Jonas Gutierrez or when Demichelis and partners were pressed in possession.
Then again, when you have Lionel Messi showing such sparkling verve – whether as striker, winger or deep-drifting playmaker – just winning the ball back will be a sturdy challenge itself.
Cristiano Ronaldo has gone one better than his World Footballer of the Year successor, by hitting the back of the net – though an uncharacteristic self-deprecation in his grin suggested his ball-juggling strike owed equal credit to both judgment and luck.
Kaka, despite playing with his usual grace, has suffered another stop-start opening to this World Cup, though will be under pressure to do better even against the leg-choppers of Chile.
While he and Rooney are perhaps the only superstar names to have under-performed, several more emerging talents have captured the attention – and imagination.
Mesut Ozul, of course, though also impressive have been Uruguay’s versatile defender Jorge Fucile and their poacher-turned-playmaker Diego Forlan.
Then there was Robert Vittek’s barnstorming performance for Slovakia against Italy – all the alleged qualities of Heskey, but with surefire finishing too – while Japan’s free-kick-swisher Keisuke Honda and Ghana’s diminituve cruncher Anthony Annan have also caught the eye.
Others quick off the mark include adventurous Portugal wing-back Fabio Contreiao, New Zealand’s indefatigable goalkeeper ?? Paston and US inspirations Landon Donovan and, more surprisingly, half-pint right-back Steve Cherundolo.
Still there has been a irritating shortage of goals in too many games, currently averaging out at 2.1 per match – worse than the all-time World Cup low of Italia 90’s 2.2, with Germany ’06 managing not much more at 2.3.
At least things could only get better after the first set of first round matches produced just 25 goals in 16 games, with 42 in the next batch and 34 in the third.
Whinges about vuvuzelas and Jabulanis have been waning ever since sides started to hit form – and the net – with smoother ease.
Or else, still-thrilling chaos - as in the cases of Cameroon-Denmark and Slovakia-Italy above all.
Packed eight-, nine- or ten-men defences when not in possession held a relative balance of power for the tournament’s early stages, but the most unambitious teams are thankfully on their way home now.
Off the field itself, stadia have been crammed with noise if not capacity crowds.
A rather casual air around security has so far led to only embarrassment and not calamity.
And most people have managed to get to the games they intended – even if a tournament navigable by car or plane alone tends to favour only those with plenty of patience. And cash.
The Fifa and LOC strictures which have cowed local traders – while cow-towing, of course, to official sponsors – have threatened at times to dully homogenise an event idealised as something deliberately, exciting different.
But the outbursts of outrage heavy-handed officials have faced – sloganised on T-shirts as ‘Fick Fufa’ or ‘Mafifa: we own the game’ – may fade gently away as they count the governing body’s $1billion annual profits.
Carping aside, even when the World Cup’s bad, it’s still worth cherishing just because it’s the World Cup – and this has so far been a not-bad tournament anyway.
Previous finals tended to turn cagier – though dramatic, if all-too-often penalty-decided – when the expansive group stages gave way to winner-takes-all knock-outs.
Perhaps this time we might see the opposite effect. Either way, the next fortnight can only be compelling.
Never mind the quality – feel the drama. Though some quality treats would be welcome as well.

"No one was saved..."

2010-06-25T17:49:00.001+01:00

AFTER a first round littered with goalkeeping errors, little wonder those wearing gloves are relishing the start of the knock-out stages – and the inevitability of penalty shoot-outs.
For once, the goalkeeper is the man who can hardly lose – possibly elevated to hero status, yet if not still seldom ending up public enemy number one.
In a shoot-out, as England players know all too well but could yet discover again on Sunday, the pressure is all on the kicker, not the keeper.
In fact, in normal or extra time, only six more World Cup penalties have actually been saved than those hitting the woodwork or missing the target entirely.
David Villa’s surprise sidefoot wide, against Honduras on Monday, was the 16th that failed to even test the ‘keeper.
Even more notable misses include Antonio Cabrini’s, for Italy against West Germany, in no less a game than the 1982 final – not to mention Diana Ross’s opening ceremony howler when the US played host in 1994.
Once the game goes to spot-kicks alone, the burden can only grow bigger on the shoulders of players nominated to strike out – though gravity seemed to have an inverse effect when, say, Chris Waddle and Roberto Baggio stepped up.
Oliver Kahn today described the face-off between ‘keeper and taker as ‘a permanent psychological battle between the keeper and the shooter’, and that the notion of homework can be over-rated.
He admitted not only failing to remember any of his research on opposition takers, when his Bayern Munich beat Valencia on spot-kicks in the 2001 Champions League final.
Indeed, so intensively focused was he on just saving each kick, he didn’t even realise the scoreline – or that his final decisive save was enough to clinch the trophy.
But he did say: ‘In order to be able to save a penalty you always need a certain amount of luck but of course there are other facets.
‘Preparation, for example - you need to familiarise yourself with who will be taking the penalty: is it more of a technical player, or a player who will resort to strength and power?
‘You can read a lot from the body language, where he will shoot. And it’s also down to eye contact.
‘You can irritate a penalty taker with your body language. You can see whether a player is fearful, you can see from the eyes if he makes a small mistake which corner it will go to.’
‘This psychological battle is often invisible to the spectators.’
Yet this idea that you can never quite replicate the atmosphere and mental challenge of a big-game penalty shoot-out has perhaps been foolishly abused by England in the past, as an excuse for doing no preparation at all.
Anyone can miss a penalty, of course – as shown by recent fluffs by England’s Frank Lampard, usually so metronomically reliable and who put away not just one but two more retaken penalties in quick succession against West Ham last season.
Last month, however, he dragged his FA Cup final penalty wide of the Wembley posts, before later stabbing a spot-kick straight at Japan’s goalkeeper in a pre-World Cup friendly.
He also, of course, was one of the three English players who so limply flopped, in the quarter-final showdown with Portugal four years ago.
Jermain Defoe has revealed this England squad have been practicing penalties every day of the tournament.
Tempting as it might be to imagine a World Cup entirely settled in open play, shoot-outs have been depressingly widespread at every tournament since West Germany and Harald Schumacher infamously beat France, thanks to the first, in 1982.
Another 19 have been needed since then, including two that settled the destination of the trophy itself – Baggio’s sky-high ‘effort’ being by far the most memorable element of the 1994 final.
Four of the 16 knock-out matches at the 2006 World Cup could only be decided by a shoot-out, so if England are to go all the way this time they should need to finally break that penalty hoodoo.
Only once have England won a major tournament match on penalties, against the even more notoriously jinxed Spanish at Euro 96 – with David Seaman making one save, and seeing another penalty screwed wide.
While Defoe may hope that his latest practice makes perfect, his own recent record is the most alarming of England’s lot – missing five of his last ten, though at least his latest, against Chelsea, thundered in.
But his last-minute failures against West Ham United and Everton, costing Spurs two points each time, hardly provide reassurance about his ability under pressure.
Kahn, speaking today at an Adidas ‘penalty day’ press conference in Sandton, tipped Germany’s number one Manuel Neuer to prove psychologically strong if it goes to penalties this Sunday.
Despite having only eight caps, and still being ‘just’ 24, the Schalke ‘keeper has several years of Champions League experience.
He was also in goal for the German side that crushed England in the final of last summer’s under-20 European Championship.
Kahn said: ‘Neuer is very, very young and has many positive things to say - he does not have a lot of contact with negative experiences yet.’
He also criticised England and leading clubs Manchester United, Chelsea, Liverpool and Arsenal for fielding foreign goalkeepers – hindering the development of a world-class option for the national side.
Petr Cech, sitting to his right, gave barely a flicker of response when Chelsea’s foreign choice was mentioned – retaining a robotic air both on and off the pitch.
Yet Germany themselves have hardly come into the competition with overwhelming faith in their choice of number one.
Rene Adler had been officially anointed, after lengthy indecision, only to instantly, seemingly suffer the ‘yips’ with a glaring blunder against Argentina in a friendly last March.
His subsequent rib injury meant a choice between three much-of-a-muchness contenders, the more promising Neuer finally given the nod above Hans-Jorg Butt and Tim Wiese.
Neuer did make some robust enough interventions when defensive lapses allowed Ghana through on goal, in Wednesday night’s final Group D match.
In the approving words of Kahn, never renowned for modesty himself: ‘He has a lot of self-confidence, he sees himself positively and as a winner.’
Yet while praising this ‘untypical’ German team for their attractive ‘combination football’, he acknowledged they lack experience – especially compared to England.
Age and experience can be over-rated – or, at least, irrelevant when World Cup responsibility calls.
Michael Owen, at 18, showed no hint of nerves with his emphatic spot-kick in the 1998 shoot-out against Argentina, with those rugged seniors Paul Ince and David Batty the ones who faltered.
A penalty shoot-out may be more than just luck, and Kahn and Argentina’s Italia 90 hero Sergio Goycochea both recoil at descriptions such as ‘lottery’ or ‘Russian roulette’.
But for all their rehearsals, both nerves and the self-perpetuating effect of England’s alleged penalty ‘curse’, means more spot-kicks on Sunday could be too much to bear.
Just for good – or bad – measure, Germany’s three squad goalkeepers have saved 15 of their last 27 penalties faced – Neuer four from ten, Butt four from seven and Wiese seven from ten.
England’s three, however, have managed just one save apiece in their last 26.
Better to win then, if possible, before having to form those awful and ominous centre-circle circles.
After all, knock-out matches don’t all have to end that way.
And before being given the no-lose chance of glory, a goalkeeper can find himself falling victim and villain in an actual game – as Vincent Enyeama, Fawzi Chaouchi and of course Robert Green have all already found to their, and their country’s, cost.

"Love's got the world in motion, and I can't believe it's true..."

2010-06-25T09:10:00.001+01:00

ENGLAND could still take on Brazil this summer, even if certain other opponents stand in the way for the moment.
A prospective England-Brazil final might still seem as laughable as, say, Diego Maradona’s whinges about handball or Dunga’s about persistent fouling.
Or a South African newspaper’s confused correspondent, who this week described Flower of Scotland as the Welsh national anthem.
Yet England and Brazil are already emerging as rivals in mopping up fervent home support from South Africans coming to terms with the Bafana Bafana’s early, if expected, exit.
Anecdotal evidence suggests Brazil have plenty of enthusiasm from stadium volunteers, hotel workers, drivers and South Africans on the streets.
Yet the hordes of supporters here from England are certainly being strongly bolstered by locals, whether prompted by family or historical ties, or passionate support for Premier League stars and sides.
Ex-England international Chris Powell, coaching Cape Town and Johannesburg youngsters for education-for-all campaign 1GOAL, told Metro: ‘The kids all love Premier League football over here.
‘You see everyone walking round in Premier League shirts before their own local teams’, which does seem a bit bizarre.
‘England does actually seem to be their second team, after Bafana Bafana, because English football is so hugely popular here. It could be a great asset.’
South African tourism officials, while not quite so wide-eyed, were among those cheering as not only England but also the USA squeaked through to the next round.
Both countries are among the best-represented and biggest-spending out here.
Locals with their eye on the takings could face a Sunday dilemma, though, since the Germans are also here in vast numbers and generously dipping into also-vast pockets – though Angela Merkel might not approve.
Bloemfontein, where England and Germany will resume their rivalry, seems to have had a premonition about the coming invasion while also nailing its colours to the mast.
Even as the hosts prepared to take on France on Tuesday, the only non-South African flags or customised vuvuzelas being hawked by street-traders were those bearing the St George’s cross.
Fans of the local football team, Bloemfontein Celtic, already enjoy a reputation for vociferous, steadfast support – despite their wealthy team being starved of actual honours for too long.
Hm, sounds familiar. The Free State city’s stadium, with its old-fashioned English-style grandstands, might also prove a comfier fit for players and fans than Rustenburg’s athletics track or the artier new surroundings of Cape Town and Port Elizabeth.
What better setting, then, for England to be inspired – especially if a pack of new recruits can help the ‘Three Lions’ roar?

"What-a you think you do, why you look-a so sad...?"

2010-06-24T20:28:00.001+01:00

THE VERY split-second the ball crashed into the net, it unleashed a scatter of fireworks and ticker-tape from the sky. An 80,000-strong intake of breath, almost as instantly blasted out again as a bellow. And the inevitable blast of ‘We Are The Champions’, soon to be followed by that oh-so-obvious segue, ‘Nessun Dorma’.
It all added up to intoxicating drama, the night four years ago when Italy were crowned world champions – and Marcelo Lippi was safely lodged in the elite pantheon of World Cup-winning coaches.
There’s where the story ended. And for Lippi, alas, it should have stayed that way – but didn’t.
Nothing will rob him of that July 2006 glory.
But it felt somehow embarrassing not only for him, but those watching – and waiting, indeed, to accuse – for a manager of such stature to be left so forlorn and cravenly apologetic as he was today.
To lose one 2006 World Cup finalists before the 2010 first round has finished might be judged a misfortune – even if they did happen to be France.
To lose two begins to look like carelessness, especially when they are the defending champions.
Today’s dismal 3-2 defeat to Slovakia, coming after 1-1 draws against Paraguay and even more infamously New Zealand, must rank high on the surprisingly-extensive list of Italian World Cup calamities.
Up there with the 1966 humbling by Pak Do-Ik and North Korea, even worse than the contentious 2002 defeat by South Korea, Ahn Jung Hwan and some over-zealous, underwhelming officials.
Today brought glints of controversy for any Italian fans intent on indignation at referee Howard Webb and his officials.
Explosive – and under-used – substitute Fabio Quagliarella thought he had scored twice before the sumptuous chip that finally counted, albeit in vain.
He saw one smart finish ruled out for offside, a decision that might have been right – but perhaps only by as little as the length of a bootlace, or thickness of sock.
Although the linesman’s flag went up instantly, it felt like a wincingly lengthy stretch of time before the bad news had eventually spread through all the Italian players – and supporters.
Quagliarella also saw a volley bounce back off Martin Skrtel’s knee, perilously close to being behind the goal-line.
Yet it’s tricky to imagine any outraged Italians having their hearts quite in it, bearing in mind their most insipid performance – at least, until the last ten to 15 minutes.
In a quite astonishing post-match Press conference, Lippi commandeered his microphone and interrupted the emcee opening the floor for questions.
No, Lippi insisted, he wanted to start by making a statement of his own – which he launched with a suitably no-nonsense: ‘Right.’
The abject apology that followed made it clear he took ‘full responsibility’ for Italy’s woeful performance, having clearly failed to prepare his players ‘psychologically, technically, tactically’.
So sorry was he, at times he looked like he might start crying – while only just stopping short of scourging himself with whips and chains. (These melodramatic Catholics…)
Yet at the same time, while insisting incessantly on how the players should be absolved, his dismay and exasperation at today’s display soaked through.
They played with ‘terror in their hearts, in their heads and in their legs’, he vividly claimed – later yelping: ‘They didn’t press, they didn’t build – they didn’t do anything!’
Admitting he hadn’t expected to retain their trophy, but did expect ‘to progress’, ‘to keep up our standards’, Lippi seemed at a loss to know quite what had gone wrong.
But rather than admit over-estimating his players, he found it easier to admit he must have coached them all wrong – a doubtless genuine regret, though as the session went on he seemed increasingly eager just to get all the soul-searching easily over and done with.
Whatever the motives, his open and humble words certainly offered a stark contrast with the defensive and niggly tones of Raymond Domenech, in similar circumstances on Tuesday.
Domenech, the defeated coach in that 2006 final, was lucky to survive France’s failures at the European Championship two years later.
Italy’s coach for that tournament, Roberto Donadoni, might just be allowing himself a smirk this evening – having been sacked for only reaching the quarter-finals, though only losing on penalties to rampant, eventual champions Spain.
That was when Lippi agreed to return, disregarded that age-old advice ‘Never go back’ – a decision that now looks even more unwise than even the most pessimistic Italians could have imagined.
It has become something of a truism to accuse Lippi of simply picking his 2006 team over again, four debilitating years on.
Of the starting eleven today, five were part of the 2006 squad – Cannavaro, Zambrotta, Gattuso, De Rossi and Iaquinta.
While Andrea Pirlo and Gianluigi Buffon were only denied starting-places by injury, few would argue with their continued inclusion if available – this summer, anyway.
Indeed, while looking clearly only half-fit still, second-half substitute Pirlo still looked second only to fellow sub Quagliarella as Italy’s most influential performer.
His spraying around of classy passes, into attacking channels, threw into even sharper relief Italy’s witless, long-ball strategy of the first 45 minutes.
Buffon, too, might have offered more composed distribution – and reassuring command of the defence – than his promising, yet hesitant replacement Marchetti.
De Rossi will certainly be a key player – perhaps the key player, and likely captain – under incoming coach Cesare Prandelli.
Zambrotta looked a little uncomfortable and exposed at times today, especially after switching sides at half-time with the substitution of rookie left-back Domenico Criscito – who himself had looked terrified for much of the tournament.
But while Zambrotta’s best days are slowly receding behind him, the two veterans who most failed to live up to Lippi’s faith were – sadly – 2006 dogs of war Gattuso and Cannavaro.
Gattuso’s first game of the tournament, with his imminent retirement from all forms of football already announced, looked from the start like a triumph of hope over reality.
He offered little in his role slightly left of central midfield, neither able to harry and rush opponents like he used to – nor link up the play between Italy’s defence and attack.
The only mark he left was the ugly gash on Strba’s thigh, albeit not inflicted deliberately nor punished by Webb.
After he too was hooked at half-time, post-interval camera shots occasionally caught him looking bewildered on the bench – perhaps, like Lippi, wondering just what had gone so wrong.
Captain Cannavaro made it to the end, both of the match and his 136-cap international career – yet was arguably lucky to do so himself.
He could have been sent off in the first half for two reckless lunges in two minutes, yet more evidence of the loss of judgment and timing gathering apace since, well, that 2006 triumph.
At Real Madrid his once-immaculate reading of the game seemed to go into swift decline, bringing spates of yellow and red cards – or exposure to goals – as he too often rushed headlong out of position.
A couple of neat and sturdy interceptions, deep in defensive territory towards the close of today’s match, showed remnants of the old touch and control.
But while fellow centre-back Chiellini was the one caught out most by Slovakia’s second and third goals, Cannavaro must share the blame for a most unItalian, disorganised defence.
The third goal conceded was particularly basic, substitute Kopenek racing on to a throw-in and lofting the ball over Marchetti with his very first World Cup touch.
(The Slovak forward had been waiting an hour to come on, though, having been called to the touchline when Strba was Gattuso-ed – then hurriedly called back again, when Strba got up again, and just before Webb had noticed.
(Then again, the Slovaks – while more neat and progressive in possession than their two previous group-games – remained rather unsympathetic with all their Italianesque time-swallowing writhing and squirming. The goalkeeper Mucha the most excruciating of them all.)
Clearly Lippi felt his Dubai-bound skipper was the safest option available, with squad back-up Bonucci still seen as more raw than ready.
Despite popular consensus – and though it took him until merely months before the finals – Lippi had begun to discard members of the old guard whose selection could no longer be justified.
Grosso, Ambrosini, Toni and Perrotta were among those moved on, while younger prospects such as Candreva, Criscito and Marchisio brought in – even though the first didn’t quite make the final 23, while the latter pair might well now wish that they hadn’t.
Yet a sense of staleness seemed to pervade the set-up, summed up by the forwards’ desperate struggles to conjure up and score open-play goals.
Even Di Natale, on the back of a heroic, Serie A top-scoring season for relegation battlers Udinese, could not transfer his clinical finishing regularly enough.
Again, however, perhaps Lippi was hamstrung by a shortage of obvious replacements – Totti unreliable, Balotelli obnoxious and distracted, finally-naturalised Amauri as lumbering as Iaquinta but even less prolific.
While wondering just how crisis-ridden Italian football should now feel, Internazionale’s status as European club champions offers only partial solace.
After all, Jose Mourinho’s team that saw off Bayern in the final contained no Italians in the starting line-up, with only ancient warrior Marco Materazzi among the subs – seemingly almost like little more than emotional tokenism.
But perhaps the coach who rotated five strikers so effectively four years ago, and proved so adept at experimental and adventurous formations, shied away from crucial leaps of faith this time around.
Disciples of pie-loving Sampdoria engancheAntonio Cassano can now rally hindsight to their cause.
And Quagliarella’s explosive cameo that very nearly saved Italy despite themselves begs the question: why had he not featured at all until now?
But whether Lippi can feel up to – or bothered about – now tackling such questions remains to be seen, as he vows to take another lengthy break before focusing on whether he wants to return. To any kind of football coaching at all.
As another European ‘super-power’finds themselves gracelessly bundled out of South Africa so soon, part of him must be wishing he’d stayed quit when he was so ahead in the first place.
Today’s grimly compelling – and marvellously melodramatic – scenes? Or a nice long nap in the garden? He chose.

"Ja, das ist Musik fur mich..."

2010-06-23T22:33:00.001+01:00

A JUST-ENOUGH 1-0 win thanks to a volley, against opponents who proved frustrating to break down while also unable to finish for toffee themselves, now paves the way for a clash with arch rivals which should test – but also ideally inspire these under-performers like no other opposition.
That was my (convoluted) English take on today’s edgy, nervy victory over poor Slovenia.
But there seem to have been similar thoughts going through German fans’ minds, as they came away from Soccer City after a similar scoreline and outcome against Ghana.
Of course, Mesut Ozul’s finish was rather more dashing than Jermain Defoe’s, whether for distance travelled – or the fact it didn’t simply bang in off his shin.
And on current form, Ozul looks a more cutting-edge influence than any of England’s so-called creative talents – when his team-mates make sure to bring him into the game, and not isolated out on a wing.
The Germans emerging from Soccer City, who were hoping their team might need the English challenge to finally raise their game, must be tricky to please if that annihilation of (admittedly) Australia didn’t count.
But while the refreshing verve of the country’s youngest ever World Cup squad certainly looks to be lacking the stodginess of England’s – incidentally, our oldest of all time.
Yet hope may rest with the holes glimpsed in the German defence, with Per Mertesacker often looking apt to go back into his ice-skating Bambi act.
And despite his skills in the kitchen, cookbook-author Arne Friedrich looks no more commanding in the centre of defence than he looked a faltering full-back four years ago.
It’s a long way to Bloemfontein, as a leg-anaesthetising drive there and back yesterday proved – but in those days of too much hype ahead, there might just be a little hope.

"Drink to me, drink to my health..."

2010-06-23T22:12:00.002+01:00

DESPITE scowling when subbed and still looking a little out of touch, Wayne Rooney might now raise a toast to the ‘loyal support’ who yesterday laid off the boos – while getting stuck into the booze.
Many England fans were already celebrating a result even before kick-off, checking their change in pleasant surprise after stocking up on bottles of beer for 13 Rand, or £1.15, apiece.
Little wonder the bars surrounding Port Elizabeth’s Nelson Mandela Bay stadium were crammed about as tight as Diego Maradona into his suit, as clogged with grappling bodies as the Slovenian box at set-pieces.
The England faithful were not the only ones supping up for the cup.
John Terry’s attempted putsch over a pint might have fizzled out over the weekend.
But Fabio Capello has suggested that getting the beers in the night before action might have stopped time being called on England’s World Cup crawl.
He even smiled as he announced the players’ Tuesday evening tipple, his shoulders suddenly loosening as if he’d actually been carrying the kegs on his own over-burdened back.
*
‘YOU’RE playing Slovenia? Two million people? And you’re frightened? Impossible!’
Nevertheless, even as one of the World Cup’s most notable minnow-magnets flapped his arms in contempt, England fans had hands shaking, knees trembling and fingernails being bitten down to the marrow.
Especially when Slovenia launched a stoppage-time raid on the penalty area, Matthew Upson lunged in – and nightmare visions of Phil Neville at Euro 2000 flashed by, fortunately too soon.
The morning’s contemptuous critic was Bora Milutinovic, who has at least enjoyed World Cup triumphs over such European superpowers as Spain, Sweden and ... Scotland.
Compared to five-timer Bora, Capello’s a World Cup novice – though this tournament alone already seems to have lasted a lifetime.
That Costa Rica embarrassment of the Scots came 20 years ago, in the tournament Jamie Carragher has been avidly re-viewing on satellite TV.
Back then, Bobby Robson’s men endured plenty of ridicule, dressing-room dissent, a 1-1, a 0-0 and a scrappy 1-0 before a transformative surge to the semi-finals.
Amid a blizzard of flags in the Port Elizabeth stands, proudly showing off more red crosses than Wayne Rooney’s old schoolbooks, one wry banner yesterday read: ‘Things can only get better.’
But if some fans want to party like it’s 1990 – fine...

JUBILANT England fans enjoyed drinking at the last-chance saloon as choruses of ‘In-Ger-Lund’ and ‘God Save The Queen’ rang out around Port Elizabeth.
Fabio Capello’s men were cheered on to victory by the overwhelming majority of the Nelson Mandela Bay stadium’s 36,893-strong crowd.
Even a smattering of pre-match grumbles when Wayne Rooney’s name was announced failed to mar the mood once the game kicked off.
Rooney, forced to apologise at the weekend for sarcastically condemning England’s ‘loyal support’, had his every touch cheered when the game kicked off – and chants in his honour were among the most-sung.
South African police and specialist squads sent over from the UK were on stand-by for any disorder, especially if England were knocked out by either a draw or defeat.
There were also concerns about security inside the stadium, with police on duty in place of stewards after a pay dispute caused contract staff walk-outs last week.
Yet spirits seemed to remain high, both in the hours before 4pm local time kick-off and in the hours after the final whistle.
English flags bearing the St George’s cross covered all areas of the newly-built stadium, even though organisers had tried to keep English, Slovenian and South African fans separate.
In both the petal design-inspired venue, and packed bars in the surrounding streets, England fans were estimated to outnumber Slovenian supporters by at least ten to one.
Keven Osborne, 27 and from Chichester, described the ambience throughout yesterday as far more positive than for the previous games against the USA and Algeria.
He said: ‘Before those matches, I felt nervy, but even before the kick-off yesterday, the atmosphere among the fans just felt better.
‘There was a more confident feel, even though we knew we had to win – and that showed on the pitch, with the players too.
‘When the goal went in, the place went mental – my friends and I ended up in the row behind, six of us all on top of each other.
The England support’s noise even managed to overwhelm the din of the vuvuzelas, the controversial horns which have dominated the tournament’s soundtrack.
Much-heard chants during the match yesterday included ‘In-ger-lund, In-ger-lund, In-ger-lund’, songs hailing Rooney, the national anthem and ‘Rule Britannia’.
‘Singing ‘you can stick your vuvuzelas up you’re a***’ was also quite popular,’ Mr Osborne added.
Simon Jasinski, 30, from Portsmouth, said: ‘I thought we would either go on a four-goal rampage – or sneak it nervously. The important thing is, we’ve made progress.
‘The bars around the ground have been jam-packed all day, and England flags have been placed literally all over the stadium. Everyone’s been up for it, right from the start.
‘The South African people have been really friendly too, with a lot of them saying they want England to do well.’
Mr Jasinski was also pleased England’s second-round tie will now be Sunday, not Saturday, after they finished group runners-up.
‘I fly home on Saturday, so this means I’ll now be able to watch it on TV, instead of getting the score from the pilot,’ he said.

"It's time for Africa...?"

2010-06-23T14:23:00.000+01:00

ROGER Milla has blamed too much chopping and changing by both football officials and foreign coaches for African failures at the continent’s first World Cup.
The Cameroon legend and World Cup’s all-time oldest scorer also accused African sides of being too ‘complacent’, while attacking the trend for expensive imported coaches like Sven-Goran Eriksson.
Milla spoke of his dismay and disappointment that African teams have under-achieved at this World Cup, despite high expectations - and fervent stadium support at every match.
Going into today's games, there were fears that the second round could feature no African teams for the first time in 28 years.
The last time that happened was 1982 in Spain, Milla’s first World Cup, when his Cameroon side were eliminated despite going unbeaten.
They drew three games, including one with eventual champions Italy, but it was their run the quarter-finals eight years later that won Milla – and his corner-flag dancing – iconic appeal.
That remains the furthest any African side has reached in a World Cup, equalled by Senegal in 2002 – but in Germany four years ago, Ghana were the continent’s only second-round representatives.
South African cities have been plastered in posters and billboards proclaiming slogans such as ‘Africa United’ and ‘It’s a home game for Africa’.
Yet each side has suffered distinctive difficulties, such as key injuries Nigeria’s Jon Obi Mikel, Ghana’s Michael Essien, Algeria’s Mourad Meghni and the Ivory Coast’s Didier Drogba – though he has played with a cast on his broken elbow.
Cameroon’s prospects were hampered by internal unrest, while only North Korea have a lower place in Fifa rankings than hosts South Africa.
There has also been criticism of the fact only Algeria have been coached by an African, Rabah Saadane – now in his fifth spell in charge of his homeland.
Other African football associations have spent hefty chunks of their budget on short-term contracts for the likes of Nigeria’s Swedish coach Lars Lagerback and his compatriot Sven-Goran Eriksson, briefly leading the Ivory Coast.
Milla, speaking while coaching youngsters with education charity 1GOAL, yesterday said: ‘It’s a problem, if you’ve only had three months to prepare a team.
‘You should be working consistently through the Africa Cup of Nations and then the World Cup, not picking one team for one competition and one for another.
‘We have to start being less complacent – we have to choose a coach to train and beat teams in Africa.’
Of the first two African teams to fall so far, he said: ‘Cameroon picked a team that was too young, Nigeria picked a team that was too old.’
He was disapproving of Cameroon’s French coach Paul Le Guen, who suffered a squad revolt when he dropped Alex Song and Achille Emana for their opening-game defeat to Japan.
Changes were made for the follow-up, with captain Samuel Eto’o asserting more dressing-room – and Press conference – control.
But a haphazard 2-1 defeat to Denmark meant the ‘Indomitable Lions’ were the first team knocked out of the tournament.
Milla, who denied claims he himself had fallen out with Eto’o, said: ‘The Cameroon people need to know the truth – the coach didn’t do his job correctly.
‘The second, against Denmark, the players picked the team themselves.
‘They had the possibility of beating Japan and Denmark, but it was a just a failure.
Yet Cameroon’s hopes of reaching the finals had looked bleak before Le Guen took charge in July 2009 and took them to South Africa on the back of four wins in their closing four qualifiers.
Nigeria and the Ivory Coast, by contrast, both entered the tournament with new Swedish coaches appointed at short notice and on lucrative, short-term contracts.
But Lagerback’s ‘Super Eagles’ are flying home after two defeats and a draw, while Eriksson’s ‘Elephants’ need to not only trample North Korea but also see Brazil beat Portugal – and a ten-goal swerve in their favour.
South Africans were yesterday reflecting on their bittersweet exit from their own World Cup, as pressure mounted for one of their own to take over as coach.
Tuesday’s 2-1 victory over France failed to prevent South Africa becoming the first host nation to fall at the first hurdle of a World Cup.
They might count themselves a little unfortunate – the USA finished in the same place in their group when staging the competition in 1994, but different rules at the time meant some third-placed teams progressed.
The favourite to replace the outgoing Brazilian coach Carlos Alberto Parreira is his assistant Pitso Mosimane, a South African.
But another World Cup pioneer, much-travelled coach Bora Milutinovic, yesterday insisted the nationality or language of a coach did not matter – but their mentality, and how rigorously they got to know their players and their backgrounds.
He also accused too many Africans of being too unambitious when preparing for World Cups.
Milutinovic was the first man to lead five different countries at separate World Cups, including a Nigeria side who reached the second round in 1998.
He insisted: ‘Africa needs to think more seriously about what they need to do to become World Cup winners, not just win a couple of games here and there.’
But he acknowledged that social and economic difficulties, and above all lack of education opportunities, held back many African players and teams trying to develop.
‘Sometimes it’s not enough to have talent or to train – you have to know how,’ he added.

"You say you want a revolution, well you know - we all want to change the world..."

2010-06-22T21:34:00.001+01:00

AMID the English civil war and the French revolution, an strange harmony reigns in the Dutch camp this tournament – so far.
Perhaps it’s all down to coach Bert van Marwijk giving impromptu performances on the piano in their team hotel’s lobby.
Or maybe they’re picking up feelgood vibes from their HQ’s location in central Johannesburg, near the exuberant heart of this World Cup’s capital city.
Van Marwijk expressly wanted his players to really feel - to use a 2010 World Cup buzzword – if not the full-throated ‘Ayoba’, or exhiliration, of the event then certainly a flavour of real-life South Africa.
Some of Spain’s players have even been spotted doing their own shopping in stores beside their base in Potchefstroom, near Johannesburg – about as close to ‘slumming it’ as today’s superstars get.
Meanwhile, England’s incredible sulks stew in not-so-splendid isolation at their aristocratic Rustenburg pad, miles and miles of scorched and unspectacular velde away from the major cities.
The daily routine of ‘breakfast, training, lunch, bed, dinner, bed’ sound quite enviable, up to a point.
Wayne Rooney's grumble also calls to mind the exasperated complaint of Wilfred Brambell, when stuck with earlier Scousers in Beatle film A Hard Day’s Night: ‘So far I’ve been in a car and a room, and a train and a room, and a room and a room.’
Whatever the company, though, being cooped up in what Steven Gerrard has described as ‘five-star prison’ - even for five (fingers crossed) weeks - seems a scant enough sacrifice, and par for the World Cup course.
Bryan Robson, injury-prone as ever, developed blisters to become all-England (squad) Pacman champ as they languished behind armed guard, for fear of Basque separatist attack in Bilbao, back in 1982.
Simply calling up Jimmy Bullard and his ukulele – or a few Rustenburg neighbours toting vuvuzelas - would hardly guarantee a future as bright as the Oranje’s so far appears.
Nor does van Marwijk, like Capello, ever resemble a ray of sunshine himself, though both cantered through qualifiers before Capello’s sternness supposedly turned from asset to obstacle.
Meanwhile only a few flashes of pizzazz from still cruise-controlling Ballon d’Or contender Wesley Sneijder have lifted some Dutch displays almost as flat as Holland itself.
But without hitting the peaks, they at least know they’re sticking around in town for now.
A simple England victory today could mean the players’ hours suddenly start flying by – if not necessarily singing, then winning’s a handy counter-revolutionary tactic.

"It's a shame about Ray..."

2010-06-22T18:57:00.004+01:00

SOUTH Africa’s footballers and fans have gone out on a relative high after all - while Raymond Domenech and France did the apparently-impossible and found a new low upon which to finish.
Just as the final whistle was blown on the latest French farce - leaving seemingly little more to do except get heads down, scurry down the tunnel and tout suite back to Paris - Domenech snubbed a handshake and thus embraced fresh indignity.
The coach loathed by his public, abused and humiliated by his players, but bafflingly backed for too long by his bosses, did try to end today's World Cup-ending defeat to South Africa by making up with his mutinous troops.
He could hold out a hand to such rebels without a conscience as William Gallas and Franck Ribery.
Yet he snatched it away again - only offering a wagging index finger instead - when his opposing number suggested the most straightforward of post-match pleasantries.
Carlos Alberto Parreira comes across as one of the most innocuous of personalities, and he appeared genuinely bemused when trying to account for the snub when facing the Press soon afterwards.
Domenech had attempted no such explanation, repeatedly ignoring requests he expand on what Parreira had done to deserve such a ticking-off.
It was left to Domenech's back-up staff to tell Parreira what had caused such offence - apparently a
Long-forgotten by Parreira, but not by Domenech - who evidently had too little to occupy his mind otherwise.
The outgoing French coach's typically-prickly post-match briefing included several incredible claims - above all, that his six years in charge had been 'a splendid adventure'.
He also rebuked reporters, threatened to walk out, denied any of his squad had refused to play - but rather ungraciously revealed Eric Abidal had pleaded to be excused, admitting he 'wasn't in a state to be able to play'.
Ah, but when has that ever meant the hapless Abidal missing out before?
Whether being sent off at Euro 2008 for France or in a Champions League semi-final for Barcelona, or clumsily conceding the decisive penalty against Mexico last Thursday, Abidal carries the air of a defender cursed - especially when inexplicably fielded in the centre, instead of marginally more comfortably at full-back instead.
Despite refusing to condemn the players this time, even praising them for only losing 2-1 once down to ten men, there was one subtle suggestion that, yes, he had headed a truly disfunctional body.
Domenech, who is being replaced by former national captain Laurent Blanc, added: ‘I believe the team has a future and I wish them long life.
‘I hope they’ll also be able to get to the next World Cup and they’ll find a team which they weren’t able to find this time.’
Of course, in other news, the home side made unwanted - though expected - history by becoming the first World Cup hosts to bow out in the first round.
Yet they were inspired by a rousing crowd in Bloemfontein, enjoying a 2-1 victory over a team already in meltdown - even before Yoann Gourcuff's first-half red card for giving MacBeth Sibaya an unhelpful elbow.
South Africa’s 3-0 defeat to Uruguay last Wednesday had left a nation dejected, but business and political leaders – including Nelson Mandela – had urged fans to rally for yesterday’s game.
President Jacob Zuma made a personal visit to the players’ dressing room to congratulate them after last night’s victory - then he and his security/wifely entourage briefly threatened to give Domenech a little relief, by blocking off journalists en route to the Press room.
The crowd had kept up a raucous din of vuvuzela horns and pro-‘Bafana Bafana’ chants throughout the 90 minutes - even if sloppy finishing meant Mexico still progressed on a better goal difference.
Spectator Mpho Mphake, 35, from Bloemfontein, said afterwards: ‘The team played with a lot of spirit, a lot of heart – they made us proud.
‘The atmosphere here today was great and we will still enjoy the rest of the tournament.’
After being snubbed by Domenech, a perplexed Parreira said: ‘As a matter of politeness I went to greet him, but he said I had offended the French team.
‘For the life of me I can’t believe what it is I’ve said. I’ve never insulted the French - on the contrary, I’ve always praised them.
‘One of the French coaches said in the qualifying matches, when Henry scored the so-called “hand of Gaul” I made a comment that perhaps France shouldn’t have been here.
‘It’s very lamentable this happened. It seems to be the attitude towards them is justified. I don’t remember saying anything like this.’
Even if he had, then so said the rest of the world - as affronts go, his was hardly the first or the worst.
Domenech need only glare at himself and his team if determined to declare: 'J'accuse.'

"And those home fires burn, scorching a hole through me..."

2010-06-21T22:00:00.003+01:00

A MOCKED foreign coach, players at war with him and each other, and dispirited fans ripping off the rip-off shirts bought in such hope just a few weeks ago.
So that’s South Africa, anyway – how’s the mood back in England?
In fact, the attitude here seems to be not so much shocked outrage, as slightly miffed surprise.
Mobile phone and fast food firms who plastered the highways in adverts about not only hosting the World Cup, but actually winning it, are on alert to start shredding at dawn.
A second round place now looks about as likely, local wags say, as president Jacob Zuma deciding to settle down ... and not get married again.
Members of the South African squad have been swept up in the craze that’s sweeping the nation and gone public on rifts splitting the camp.
Suitably enough, one of the players wielding a dagger is MacBeth Sibaya, who claims Johannesburg-based ‘cliques’ have been favoured over Kwa-Zula Natal natives like himself.
But, as his Shakespearean namesake’s not-so-good lady wife put it: ‘What’s done cannot be undone.’
Nelson Mandela, even in his time of rather more serious grief, has tried to rally fans’ spirits while assuring the team of the country’s ‘unwavering support’.
Evidently, some fear tonight’s match against the revolting French could take at face value Wayne Rooney’s suggestion that it’s ‘nice to see your own fans booing you’.
Yet the World Cup occasion itself should mean plenty of pride is expressed loud and as clear as the vuvuzelas allow - fired by still-lingering feelgood factor from the Mexico second half, Siphuwe Tshabalala's wonder opener, and simply playing mein host.
Even if, to use the modern-day MacBeth's analogy, the Tuesday night task is to ‘climb Everest’.
Of course, the revolting French could yet hand them some crampons, if Raymond Domenech’s again go AWOL and concede a 3-0 walkover win – which might just be the hosts’ best hope.
*
There were always fears this World Cup would be hit by industrial action.
But no one expected the walkout-threatening police, nurses, customs officials and energy workers to be beaten to the picket lines by the players themselves.
An uneasy truce appears to have been brokered in the English civil war, with John Terry proving about as popular a coup-leader as Patricia Hewitt and Geoff Hoon - with perhaps similar disgrace awaiting.
If, indeed, one man can attract any more - and assuming, of course, he actually feels any shame.
But vive les Divas, the French keep on feuding.
If Kader Keita’s Rivaldo impression briefly made the Ivory Coast just like watching Brazil, then the angsty English and French have become the new double Dutch.

'The way things are going, they're gonna crucify me...'

2010-06-21T12:07:00.002+01:00

EIGHT years on, that bad Rivaldo karma has backfired on Kaka – surely seen as the man least likely to have a World Cup red card flourished in his baby face.
In keeping with his saintly air – and ‘I belong to Jesus’ attire – even last night’s dismissal against the Ivory Coast won’t do him much damage, martyrdom status coming quickly in the watching world’s eyes.
The true villain of the piece, twice over, was of course Ivory Coast substitute Kader Keita, who flung himself to the floor clutching his face after Kaka had barely brushed him in the chest.
Nudge, nudge – sink, sink...
Kader shouldn’t even have still be on the field to dash himself to the ground, having not long earlier hurled his studs into Michel Bastos’ shin in what could well have produced one of those ‘please look away now’ pictures.
Then again, such unsavoury Keita-ing had been on the menu all evening long, players from both sides incessantly rolling around, grimacing wildly, and clutching body parts that had gone untouched.
Lucio, Luis Fabiano and Robinho for Brazil, Zokora, Kalou and of course Drogba were among the offenders – while even choirboy Kaka has significant previous for diving.
Italy’s captain Fabio Cannavaro had looked even more ridiculous just a few hours earlier, and not just for the draw and his delicate assist for New Zealand.
When knocked over in an innocuous enough challenge, he seemingly suffered agonies in front of the camera – then turned suspiciously alert when presumably assuming it had panned elsewhere.
Here’s hoping for rather less ridiculous antics when the football kicks off again this afternoon.
Ah wait – well, it was an admirable idea. But never mind – I see next it’s Portugal playing...

"Someone knocking at the door, somebody ringing a bell..."

2010-06-20T21:54:00.002+01:00

QUESTIONS are rightly being asked about how an intruder managed to get into England’s dressing room.
Barely articulate, needlessly distracting, and really just a fan who should have felt lucky to be there, David Beckham nevertheless insists he’ll attend again on Wednesday.
As for Pavlos Joseph’s unwanted appearance, perhaps the biggest surprise isn’t that he evaded security – but didn’t do more angry damage when he did.
Or else, that he wasn’t bundled down en route by clod-hopping Jamie Carragher.
In a first World Cup week dominated by sturdy rearguard actions on the field, off it security teams seem to have taken their cue from the South African defence and not, say, the Swiss.
Little wonder, maybe, that it’s the Zurich-based Fifa – and its compatriot president Sepp Blatter – putting the verrou, or Swiss bolt, on those ‘ambush marketing’ Dutch.
Elsewhere in and around the stadia, the local approach – whether by underpaid and undermotivated stewards or even police stand-ins – has been, if not exactly lax, then rather relaxed.
Even in the last days leading up to the big kick-off, visitors could wander into the main Soccer City complex in Johannesburg without even having to flash a stadium pass.
Entry checks for matches since then have been cheery, yet cursory – with only random confiscations here and there, more often a sandwich or drink that might offend official sponsors.
Fans of Nigeria’s so-called ‘Super Eagles’ were disappointed to be blocked from bringing their own birds in – but a French fan did smuggle his rooster into the Polokwane stands.
(Please, no crude jokes about 11 more something-or-others on the pitch.)
The largely-chilled vibe seems worth celebrating, especially with alarmist forecasts of al-Qaeda attacks proving (fingers crossed) as accurate as those about squad-eating snakes.
The atmosphere coming out of the Ellis Park stadium in Johannesburg, above all, has crackled excitingly with brisk midwinter mingling and anything-goes relish - with a few wafts of suspiciously-illicit smoke too.
The slightly ramshackle air and organisation can both charm and annoy, as all those left stranded by disrupted or disjointed public services might agree.
But perhaps we should be grateful security officials are being a bit tentative about demanding credentials – lest England be locked out before being knocked out.

2010-06-19T22:45:00.003+01:00

As if a cracking match between two not-too-cracking teams were not energising enough, Pretoria's Loftus Versfeld stadium last night produced an ear-catching new sound - someone playing their vuvuzela exactly like one of the chilling saxophone crescendos in Bernard Herrmann's 'Taxi Driver' score.
Well done, that fan.

"The Lions sleep tonight..."

2010-06-19T22:43:00.002+01:00

THE WORLD Cup schedules are giving us night-time matches which make for ideal bedtime viewing – last night’s England-Algeria game soporific, tonight’s between Cameroon and Denmark just exhausting.
In their third meeting ever, the two teams finished 2-1 for the third time – yet it could have ended five apiece, at least, with both defences seemingly keen to bump up 2010’s slender goal average.
Cameroon, haphazard at both ends of the field, become the first country eliminated from this year’s competition – one African team down, another five soon to go?
Hopefully not so fast, though Ghana’s underwhelming draw earlier today, against an Australia team yet again reduced to ten men, was a setback for continent’s only winners so far.
Cameroon could have won several games over with the chances they created – with a little help from the Danes – but squandered during 90 crazy minutes tonight.
Instead, the Indomitable Lions proved all too, er, domitable.
Pierre Webo was especially wasteful, while the returning Achille Emana added much-needed drive and verve in midfield, yet only scuffed efforts when shooting on goal.
Substitute Mohammadou Idrissou could have scored a couple when introduced late on, only to see the ball pop off the top of his head and on to the top of the net, moments after his shot had rebounded over and off the prone Christian Poulsen’s face.
In the post-match press conference, Paul Le Guen insisted he had no regrets – other than their premature elimination, of course.
But he came close to admitting the players had been driving him mad, saying only partly diplomatically: ‘All teams are difficult to manage so I don’t want to compare. It’s a great job - difficult but a great job, even in this case.’
At least he was allowed to hold the press conference himself this time, after Samuel Eto’o had conducted a players’ briefing earlier in the week.
It had also been suggested that Eto’o was picking the team – or at least strongly suggesting he do so – and, sure enough, Emana and Alex Song both started tonight, having been bafflingly exiled for the opening match against Japan.
Le Guen’s line-up last Saturday was supposedly his attempt to quell dressing-room dissent over his alleged alienation of the ageing Rigobert Song, but only seems to have stirred up further friction.
Song initially seemed to bring more poise to the Cameroon midfield tonight, and did contribute one last-ditch six-yard-block from Tomasson – though his error had gifted possession in the first place.
Yet neither defence nor midfield ever looked especially sturdy, with Cameroon’s self-harmingly high line invariably vulnerable to Danish counter-attacks.
Dennis Rommedahl was the most dangerous and beneficial outlet.
He first sprinted on to Simon Kjaer’s cross-field pass, sliding the ball across the box for Nicklas Bendtner to slide in and equalise Cameroon’s opener by Eto’o.
Former Charlton flop Rommedahl then hit what proved to be the winner, enjoying what seemed an aeon to turn inside Jean Makoun and swipe the ball past the ‘keeper with his supposedly-weaker left foot.
Not that that goal, as early as the 61st minute, ever felt likely to be the game’s last, as too many clod-hopping touches by the Danish defence kept allowing Cameroon attackers to squirm their way through – only to worm the ball high or wide.
Danish coach Morten Olsen looked as furious as a winner can be when Uruguayan referee Jorge Larrondia finally brought the harem-scarem entertainment to an end.
He afterwards admitted: ‘We had far too many elementary mistakes we made. I can’t allow that from my players.’
And overworked centre-back Daniel Agger – bemusingly named man of the match rather than, say, the more influential Rommedahl – confessed: ‘Particularly in the first half, it’s one of the worst performances we’ve given in a long time.
‘If they were a bit more clinical, they would have scored more goals and we would have been out of it in the firsrt half.
‘We tried to fight, and we all stand together – sometimes it becomes a bit of a kick and rush, kick and rush, up and down, up and down, and that’s not how we want to play really.
‘We got three points – that’s the most positive thing I can say.’
Bendtner, one of three Danes carrying injuries, did at least last to the end this time, having scored his goal and just about won a battle of North London rivals with Sebastien Bassong – who, on a night of Cameroon losers, lost worst than most.
The Arsenal striker was especially exercised by the Tottenham defender tugging at his shirt – presumably because Bendtner prefers publicly undressing himself.
But both Danish goals tonight benefitted from another Tottenham man doing wrong, the often dozy and indifferent Benoit Assou-Ekotto caught recklessly out of position both times.
Bassong, too, found himself virtually in a different postcode as then Danes whipped forward in counter-attacks more effective than their own defending.
When asked if the (substituted) Bassong would play against the Netherlands, Le Guen would only say: ‘Well, leave me a little time and we’ll have to see whether he too is keen on returning to the side. We’ll see.’
While perhaps wishing either he or his two North London-based, Cameroon-convert defenders had decided to stick around in their native France instead.

"Sloveni, vidi, vici..."

2010-06-19T19:15:00.002+01:00

FABIO Capello’s Slovenian counterpart clearly knows the way to his critics’ hearts – their beer-bellies.
Not even taking his team to a surprise spot at the top of Group C, going into Wednesday’s final games, has won Matjaz Kek universal appeal.
Yet unlike Capello’s stern telling-off of intrusive snappers last week, Kek clearly felt an urge to lighten his ‘bad cop’ routine with some ‘good cop’ hale and heartiness – all in a matter of seconds.
Turning on a compatriot hack whose sceptical question he deemed ‘a foul’, Kek declared: ‘What I want to say to Slovenian journalists is, there’s too much that wastes our energy – not related to the pitch.
‘I hope that your attitude might improve because if this is not the case, this might not have very positive repercussions.’
‘I hope you take pride in the fact how Slovenia has performed so far - and tomorrow you’re welcome to come with this and we’ll have a beer.’
Having thus rounded on critics – then offered to get a round in – he then strode off with some departing words in English, that might not please English ears, or ease English fears.
‘Good luck, Americans.’

PRESUMABLY having realised soccer is not one of America’s favourite sports, Slovenia seemed happy at times on Friday to engage the Americans instead in a wrestling match.
Coach Matjaz Kek offered complaints – or compliments – about his opponents’ ‘aggression’
But his side’s apparent happiness when grappling – overlooked by referee Koman Coulibaly when he eccentrically ruled out Hercules Gomez’s late ‘winner’ – suggests another bruising experience for England on Wednesday.
The England squad looks increasingly fractious and fractured, even before Wayne Rooney started baiting the booboys.
Yet their last Group C opponents look more united than during their last ill-omened World Cup adventure - signalled by the gestures of genuine anxiety when substitute Nejc Pecnik had to be substituted himself, having been awkwardly bundled over as Clint Dempsey clumsily trod on the ball.
An absence of obvious star players might just be a boon, too.
The current Slovenia squad may have no one with the flair and dazzle of Zlatko Zahovic – but none likely to reduce a coach to tears, as Zahovic did in 2002 after labelling Srecko Katanec ‘a p**** of a coach’ and ‘a p**** of a player’.
‘I could buy you, your house and your family,’ Zahovic spat, before being sent back to his own home from the World Cup in South Korea and Japan.
Ahead of the 2010 kick-off, Zahovic warned many Slovenian fans might feel ‘deceived’ into ‘thinking we have got one foot in the second round’ – though at they moment they at least have a toe or two.
To prevent Slovenia stamping England out of the way, Gareth Barry’s role could be crucial in Wednesday’s must-win match.
Especially so, having watched the savvy with which Slovenia exploited slack under-manning between the US defence and midfield – at least, throughout the first half, and in the closing moments of the second.
Aleksandar Radosavljevic not only played the composed and controlling, holding role expected of Gareth Barry, but released the ball cleverly enough to bring into action wingers Andraz Kirm and left-footed right-sider Valter Birsa.
The two wide men took turns shuttling forward, in a lop-sided 4-4-2 at the tip of which Milivoje Novokovic unselfishly fed Zlatan Ljubijankic, scorer of a clever, counter-attacking second goal.
The attackers’ elusiveness could test not only Barry, but also either press back or strand upfield England’s keen attacking full-backs – especially Glen Johnson, who did almost as obstructive a marking job on Aaron Lennon than any opposing Algerian.
And Birsa, not only when darting inside to score his second goal of the tournament, appeared much more comfortable and dangerous than either Lennon or Shaun Wright-Phillips have looked during stints on the left so far.
In defence, at least, the Slovenians did look vulnerable – their zonal approach a mess at set-pieces and both centre-backs Marco Suler and Bostjan Cesar susceptible to slips and being outrun on the turn.
Kek did suggest his team might feel the after-effects of Friday’s gruelling duel in Johannesburg’s Ellis Park stadium.
‘What is my priority is to have my squad recover,’ he said.
‘They have wasted a lot of energy. The Americans have a very physical squad.
‘Yes, we have squandered a lot of energy. We need to recover, then think about England.
‘It’s very clear what we’re up against.’
Making the most of any sluggishness, though, should mean England doing more – and more intelligently – to pass around or above the defence, rather than rely on Heskey, Rooney or Gerrard to continue attempting to just barrel on through.
The US did manage to see out the game with perhaps the shortest centre-back of this or any World Cup – 5’6” Steve Cherundolo filling in, on the right of a makeshift back-three, albeit for less than ten minutes.
And for all the obvious failings of this England side – and the annoyance of defensive injuries and suspensions – they have only conceded one goal, and we all know just how that happened.
Stronger teams should provide a more searching test in England’s final defensive third, though Algeria’s Karim Ziani did manage to find space for shots from just outside the box.
The must-win match against Slovenia, though, should surely be won more in midfield, just so long as it’s England setting the pace instead of their opponents – and showing more precision and guile, in, around and into the area, instead of offering little more than witless hit-and-hopes from distance.

"England's gonna throw it away, gonna blow it away..."

2010-06-18T22:27:00.002+01:00

“England’s anxiety became more and more apparent as they found themselves prisoners within the penalty area and reduced to long-range shooting … For the man on the terrace last night when he got home to bed it must have seemed to him soporific and boring … It seemed to set the pattern of what we may expect in the days ahead in this modern game where the great thing it seems is not to lose.”

Plus ca change? For this despatch from The Times is not a sneak peek at tomorrow’s back pages, but Geoffrey Green’s analysis of England’s start to the 1966 World Cup – a drab goalless draw with Uruguay.
Unfortunately, after last Saturday’s insipid tie with the US was followed by new depths plunged tonight, against Algeria, two key changes can perhaps be identified indeed.
The first, that this World Cup – after a cautious and yawnsome opening week – has tentatively begun to show a little more excitement, teams opening up and attacking because they realise they must. England, on the other hand, knew they had to win, knew they had to score – and yet appeared entirely ignorant of how best to do so.
And the second, of course, is that – well – England aren’t going to go on and win this World Cup…
‘I’m just glad England aren’t peaking too early’, the ever-too-nice Gary Mabbutt on South African TV, but then, that’s just the kind of sunny guy he is.
To truly emerge from this disastrous start with any hope at all of ending triumphant would surely need some kind of creative strategy to emerge.
Alf Ramsey, after all, could point not only to England’s eventual glory in 1966 – but the fact that his starting line-ups in the first couple of group games were deliberately selected to obscure his ideal XI. Wingers such as Terry Paine and John Connelly were used in the uninspiring group clashes with Uruguay, Mexico and France – though Ramsey knew all along that when the knock-out games came, his better-co-ordinated combination of Nobby Stiles holding, behind a wingless midfield of Ball, Charlton and Peters, should make England more formidable opposition.
Fabio Capello, on the other hand, looks wedded to a structure that worked in qualifying yet only against relatively weak opposition – Croatia’s collapses twice now against England, following their under-achievement at Euro 2008 suggest their earlier rise might have owed more to McClaren than Bilic. And the supposed saviour in defensive midfield, Gareth Barry, might have returned against Algeria but with hardly enough of the rigour to prevent Algeria surging forward with alarming ease – nor with dynamic, creative enough talents in front of him to thrive.
Sadly there were nowhere near enough camera shots of Joe Cole on the bench, about the only player in the squad with the nimble and intelligent footwork and vision to unpick defences which refuse to be steamrollered by the runs, bulk or hype of Rooney, Gerrard or Lampard.
The one out-and-out winger with enough of both pace and penetration – albeit only seen so far in glimpses – found himself hauled off, just seconds after fashioning England’s closest, classiest chance: Aaron Lennon’s scooped cross which, like so many last Friday, unfortunately missed Rooney by, ooh, only an inch or two.
On technique, England look deficient – in approach, incoherent – and if motivation and pride are (spuriously) meant to cure all, then even here the ‘Three Lions’ have proved toothless.
After all, they hardly looked too fired up, by the criticism of the past six days – or the prospect of even more ahead. This display was even more depressing than that of last Friday.
And even of four years ago, the World Cup which England stank out as much as any other.
1966? 1990? It’s come to something when we’re threatening to look back on 2006 as better days...

PS: Wayne Rooney, "It's nice to see your own fans booing you."
Even nicer than to see your own players boring you...?

"Ou est le soleil? Ou est le soleil? Dans la tete - travaillez..."

2010-06-17T22:43:00.004+01:00

AFTER all the talk about hidebound, risk-averse football having the upper hand so far this World Cup, how refreshing to see it so defeated this evening.
They won’t only be hat-dancing but river-dancing on the streets tonight as France all but said au revoir to the World Cup, accompanied by Mexican waves – and Irish smiling eyes.
Even many France fans might take some – grudging – satisfaction in seeing the utterly odd Raymond Domenech embarrassed (again) this way.
I half-expected his first post-match statement this evening to merely amount to: ‘Ma cherie, can we try for a baby?’
But then, we know he’s eccentric – put it kindly. We know a manager should be getting so much more, from such a world-class selection of players.
It’s just that he’s made the selection of them such a mess – oh, and the direction, and preparation, and motivation, making tonight’s 2-0 defeat to Mexico as unsurprising as it must have been satisfying to so many.
Few Manchester United strikers can hope to score a goal so popular so widely, with those mythical creatures – ‘neutrals’.
Yet even by the craziness we’ve come to expect from Domenech, tonight’s approach still defied credulity.
Even with Nicolas Anelka starting on the pitch, the French seemed to be persisting with a striker-free formation – Anelka incessantly sauntering back into midfield, showing little sign of doing anything anywhere more dangerous.
Franck Ribery trudged around in an unusually central role but offered little beyond a laughably-long series of squandered free-kicks from outside the box, generously though the Mexicans kept gifting him another go.
Thierry Henry, for all his struggles this season, might, just might have done something more productive with one of them – but instead he was left languishing on the bench by a coach who uttered not a word from Mexican opener to final whistle.
Instead, rookie international Mathieu Valbuena was brought on to do very little, as had been journeyman toiler Andre-Pierre Gignac at half-time for the admittedly under-toiling Anelka.
The French were listless, unimaginative and – it appeared – unbothered.
And condemned anyway, surely, by the continued selection of Eric Abidal in central defence – not just lumbering and uncertain there, but a certified Jonah.
After receiving red cards there in Euro 2008, for France, and the 2009 Champions League semi-final for Barcelona, he found a variation on the theme by giving away the match-settling penalty tonight.
Perhaps the surging and exciting Barrera was already on his way down, but a second goal was no more than Mexico merited – and Cuahtemoc Blanco deserves a little respect, for the sheer audacious length of that fast bowler’s run-up.
The 37-year-old had been cheered to the rafters merely for warming up on the touchline, winning even shriller billing when he came on in a rhyming swap for Franco.
By contrast, it was easy to assume the emphatic boos greeting most French touches were prompted by their post-play off status as everyone’s favourite World Cup pantomime villains.
Yet the Peter Mokaba stadium in Polokwane was crammed full of Mexicans – or, at least, some South Africans clad in the appropriate flags and sombreros.
Whoever they were and wherever they came from, they certainly made such a noise in this comparatively-cosy arena, that at times the ebbing and flowing of chants even emerged over the volume of vuvuzelas.
Actually, I’d thought for a couple of games that the noise of the horns seemed to have been toned down a tad – surely BBC boffins can’t have actually managed that inside the stadia?
The Mexicans deserved such acclaim, for their nifty technique and their – well, hey Bobby, what’s Spanish for va va voom?
But they too – like so many in this tournament so far – were happy to clog the path through to goal at times, forming very tight, seven-pack clusters behind the ball and ring-fencing their area.
But Javier Aguirre’s men, at least, and unlike some, do at least then try to push out as sharpish as possible.
Counter-attacking seems to be one of the themes of the week, with even blue-chip contenders like Brazil happy to soak up and then surge – and the pressing passers of Spain have found themselves stymied. For now.
A full seven days in now, and this World Cup on the pitch is beginning to both improve and intrigue – well, it is about time.

'Eyes down, round and round - let's all sit and watch the money-go-round...'

2010-06-17T22:42:00.001+01:00

IT seems a bit rich for billion-dollar-profit-making Fifa to entirely pass the buck on the World Cup stewards fiasco.
It’s purely an employer-employee issue, they and the South African organisers insist – even as emergency police roll in to control four strike-hit World Cup stadia, including the one holding England fans tonight.
Ah, but whose World Cup is this, anyway?
Fifa branding – and lawyer-pleasing trademark signs – are even more ubiquitous than complaints about Jabulanis or vuvuzelas.
And Fifa-approved sponsors – some helpfully, healthily schilling fast food or booze – run a cartel within miles-wide World Cup ‘zones’, excluding and even prosecuting traders with the audacity to be South African.
The heavy-handed treatment of the orange-skirted ‘Bavaria Beer’ girls has proved an even more embarrassing own goal than those Dutch lovelies were gifted by Denmark.
But less attention has been given the less-photogenic plight of thousands of stewards toiling thankless 12-hour shifts, promised meagre payments – and actually handed even less.
Uncomfortable stuff, especially for an event given acclaim – some of it deserved - for uniting a nation and showcasing a continent.
The image of riot police fighting stewards in a World Cup car park clashes with the sight of lavish bonuses being sprayed around in an upmarket Johannesburg hotel suite.
On the eve of the big kick-off, Sepp Blatter declared himself ‘a happy man’ and his gathering of Fifa delegates ‘a happy Congress’.
As well they might be, having just been told of unexpected extra windfalls worth £171,000 to each FA – and another £1.7million apiece for the continental confederations such as Uefa.
How much of that money they spend on the game’s grass roots remains to be seen – as does any effect on generous ‘Santa’ Blatter’s presidential re-election bid 12 months from now.
But the benefits – or otherwise – for hard-working South Africans keeping the World Cup up and running deserves at least a mention by the president – perhaps on his prolific new Twitter account.
Speaking of which, can we at least call Mr Blatter’s Twitter tweets ‘Bleats’?

"I fell in love with some Diego..."

2010-06-16T22:10:00.001+01:00

EARLY morning queues swarmed outside Pretoria’s Loftus Versfeld stadium – not to claim early seats for the hosts’ match tonight, but to see the World Cup’s other main attraction instead.
Yes, Diego Maradona was giving a Press conference – yet only 200 hacks could squeeze inside, many more cursing outdoors with a petulance of which he might well approve.
But those who did get in escaped any repeat of the ‘suck it and keep on sucking it’ onslaught which last year earned him a two-month Fifa ban.
In fact, the newly-mellow Maradona - well, his digs against Platini and Pele aside - even serenaded one journalist with a Spanish chorus of ‘Happy birthday to you’.
Quite the Argentine charmer – even if the man claiming the ‘hand of God’ doesn’t quite have the voice of angel to go with it.

"Picture this, freezing cold weather..."

2010-06-16T22:09:00.000+01:00

TODAY may have brought this World Cup’s first taste of red-hot Chile, but the priority for many people was simply getting warm again.
Those who attended – or, poor sods, played – the previous night were spending the day defrosting, after a match that really put the Brrrr in Brazil, the parky in, well, Ellis Park.
It appears even Robinho can dazzle when freezing, after all.
Although the idea might affront all those who so self-satisfyingly live there, maybe it wasn’t so much the cold, but just Manchester he didn’t much like.
With some feverish forecasts even suggesting snow for Cape Town when England take on Algeria, one of our most cherished World Cup excuses is melting away.
That is, we can never go the whole hog because it’s just too hot.
Though after the shameless Steve Gerrard even tried to blame Rob Green’s US fumble on the new ball, perhaps we shouldn’t underestimate this team’s talent for deflection.
After all, it’s what Frank Lampard manages to achieve with almost every shot.
In fact, weather experts now say the Cape Town conditions could brighten to a mild enough 19C tomorrow, though frost and ice are expected to stick around elsewhere.
The hope of snow in only the fifth southern hemisphere World Cup remains enticing.
There hasn’t been any since the very first game of the very first tournament, in Uruguayan capital Montevideo - except, perhaps, when Chris Waddle’s Italia 90 penalty finally returned to earth.
If there will be snow in South Africa this summer time, the greatest thing we could get this year might be a return of the orange ball.
Unlikely, of course – though even a 99p plastic version from your local corner shop might prove less contentious than the much-maligned Jabulani.

"The South will rise again...?"

2010-06-16T22:05:00.002+01:00

Bye bye, The Boys The Boys.
A national day of both celebration and sadness, prompted by the most serious of circumstances, ended with shades of the same emotions applied to something rather more frivolous.
That is, South Africa’s ‘Youth Day’ – remembering those hundreds killed combating apartheid, in the June 1976 Soweto uprisings – couldn’t quite conclude with some footballing comfort last night.
The Bafana Bafana’s cruelly-emphatic 3-0 defeat to Uruguay surely makes it almost impossible to avoid becoming the first hosts knocked out in a World Cup first round.
The four Group A teams could yet finish on four points apiece, yet it looks unlikely – especially with South Africa’s best two tournament performers now suspended from their closing match against France.
Katlego Dikcagoi, as last Friday against Mexico, was neat and precise tonight in holding midfield – up until he needlessly clattered right through Luis Suarez on the halfway line, earning himself a second yellow of the competition.
Then, with 14 minutes to go, goalkeeper Itumeleng Khune was sadly but fairly sent off – only the ‘keeper to receive a World Cup red card – though it took another four minutes for his replacement to arrive.
Khune’s offence was slicing down Suarez as the striker shaped to sidestep and tap the ball into an empty net, after a Diego Forlan pass trickled across the box entirely untroubled by South African defenders.
That one was certainly a penalty, even if other moments suggested Suarez – after a past season or so or more approving reviews – still hasn’t quite erased all gamesmanship from his game.
Forlan had already been the hero both for visiting fans – and those who hate the horns – by suddenly silencing the vuvuzelas, for a few moments anyway, with an opening goal almost out of nowhere.
Initially it appeared his 24th-minute strike from outside the box had dipped devilishly in the air of its own accord – or, at least, because of arbitrary Jabulani tendencies.
In fact, it had caught a deflection I think we’re obliged to describe as ‘wicked’, carrying the ball on a whistling swivel through the breeze while all at once sucking all the wind from South Africa’s sails.
Until then, the home team had been marginally the more measured, even if both teams struggled to hold on to possession – and South Africa were let down again by anonymity and sloppiness going forward from both Steven Pienaar and Teko Modise.
As against France, poacher-turned-playmaker Forlan was drifting very deep into midfield, but the inclusion of Edinson Cavani as a third forward meant Suarez had more support up-front – without Uruguay much missing the dropped Fernandez in midfield.
Forlan’s vision and Suarez’s cunning meant Uruguay always looked the more likely to strike, especially once South Africa’s lonely forward Katlego Mphela had squirmed a header wide from about, ooh, two yards from goal.
Even the hitherto-hapless Alvaro Pereira tucked in an even closer-range chance, at the other end of the pitch with just about the last kick of the game.
But even then, the vuvuzelas were still being sounded loud and – well, about as clear as a vuvuzela can sound.
But disappointment and dismay are bound to be spreading, in a nation which had raised its hopes slightly higher than might be advised.
Is there someone who can now play a vuvuzela like a sad trombone?

"Don't be bashful, buy a ticket - get the habit, never kick it..."

2010-06-16T00:39:00.001+01:00

ROBBIE Earle isn’t the only one in trouble over his ticket distribution.
Fifa has been struggling to explain why some attendances have been so sparse – while presumably hoping the Dutch go far, all the better to blend in with Soccer City’s empty orange seats.
Now the South African government is under fire for spending £1million on free tickets for civil servants.
Critics say staff should pay their own way – but simply making their way in would be good enough for now.

"Brazil, where the nuts come from..."

2010-06-16T00:38:00.000+01:00

WE’RE less than a week into one exuberant yet haphazard and logistically-challenged World Cup – and yet already some are looking ahead to another.
Brazilian government ministers have touched down in Johannesburg, promising to learn from South Africa when they play host in four years’ time.
Concerns about decaying stadia or impossible transport were unsurprisingly left off the agenda at an optimistic expo launch in the upmarket suburb of Sandton.
Instead, the emphasis was on sun-blessed beaches and undressed bodies, rich coffee and chocolate – and “joga benito”, Brazil showing just how beautiful this game can be.
Exhibition highlights include World Cup-winning shirts worn by Vava, Carlos Alberto and Ronaldo – plus Jules Rimet still gleaming, albeit a replica in a glass case of the missing original trophy.
If under-employed in the days ahead, perhaps Robert Green should visit – if only to feel some comfort that he’s not alone.
Footage of Brazil’s triumphant World Cup campaigns includes Ron Springett flapping in 1962 and David Seaman flopping 40 years later – though no sign, alas, of the rather better Gordon Banks.
Those accompanying ceiling-high images of dune sands and cyan skies made for a cruel contrast with the World Cup here and now outside, with temperatures suddenly plunging.
Snow fall on mountain ranges around Cape Town have prompted excitable newspaper forecasts of similar scenes when England take the field on Friday.
Well, bringing out nthe old orange ball – even a 99p cornershop version – couldn’t prove any more controversial than this Jabulani, surely…
No snow here in Johannesburg (yet), though the abrupt mercury plunge – down to 10C earlier, heading for -3C by the early hours apparently – has certainly put the Brrrrr in Brazil-North Korea.
Or even, if you will, the parky in, well, Ellis Park. (You won’t? Oh, okay then…)
Perhaps Maicon’s opening goal could go down as wind-assisted, though the sneaky glance of his head and subtle swivel of his foot suggests we should give him the benefit of the doubt.
Elano’s finish was equally smart, but the authentic assist from Robinho even sweeter – his roaming, showboating, everything-but-the-shooting display at point-scoring odds with his cold-City image.
Okay, trying to cram Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Adriano and Kaka into the same line-up ultimately faltered four years ago.
But the players Dunga can use look to possess just too much class and technique not to inspire at times, no matter how predominantly functional he might want his team to be.
That hard-nosed organisation is, admittedly, effective – especially as Gilberto or Melo slot so comfortably into a brief back-three, when the likes of Bastos or Maicon hurtle into and through midfield.
But the story of the evening, I suppose, has to be those charming North Koreans – diligent in defence, ambitious in attack, able to (mostly) block the route to goal while keen to pass their way the other way when possible.
Even the pre-match huddle looked more organic than most, with one dutiful soul sticking his head to check no one was missing.
Or maybe, just maybe, that no one was listening…
All in all, after those two turgid dirges of matches earlier today, tonight’s was just a bit of niceness, the kind of refreshment the tournament suddenly needed.
Now for the real headline act to finally enter from the wings – no Spain, no gain…

"But wait a minute, something's wrong..."

2010-06-16T00:34:00.001+01:00

ITALY could be forgiven for feeling the world is against them – well, the world football governing body, at least.
Marcelo Lippi’s defending champions are still smarting after former French midfielder Patrick Vieira – a losing finalist in 2006 - got to present the trophy to South African organisers before the big kick-off.
And when putting their electronic voting pads to the test at a Fifa Congress meeting in Sandton, delegates were asked whether Italy were reigning world champions – and for some reason seven blazers voted no.
The Italians have been suffering further indignity at the hands – or motormouth – of former Inter Milan midfielder Paul Ince.
The self-styled “Guvnor” is on punditry duty on South African TV, alongside other ex-Manchester United players Dwight Yorke and Paul Ince.
The role has meant conforming to his station’s formal dress policy – pristine white shirt and matching crimson silk cravats.
Yet Ince felt relaxed enough in studio discussions to constantly call Lippi’s side ‘the Eyeties’.
Maybe not quite Ron Atkinson or Carol Thatcher territory – though it perhaps wouldn’t be stood for by, say, Adrian Chiles.

"Union city blues..."

2010-06-16T00:33:00.001+01:00

ENGLAND fans will be faced by emergency police teams rather than security guards and stewards at their next World Cup match as spreading strikes look like disrupting the tournament.
Several hundred workers staged an angry demonstration outside Johannesburg’s Ellis Park stadium yesterday as fans made their way in for Brazil’s match against North Korea.
Their protests over pay followed similar scenes in Durban and Cape Town, where police have now decided to take over security duties from private contractors accused of under-paying staff.
World Cup visitors could also find power supplies switched off and public services thrown into turmoil by other strikes threatened by unhappy workers across the country.
Thousands of employees at energy giant Eskom are threatening industrial action over their requests for an 18 per cent pay rise and special rates to work tomorrow’s (THURS) national holiday.
An estimated 1.2million public sector workers – including nurses, police and immigration officials – have already warned they could walk out if not offered an 8.5 per cent increase by the weekend.
And football fans were left temporarily stranded after 60 bus workers staged an impromptu strike after a game at Johannesburg’s Soccer City on Monday, though returned to work yesterday after a deal was agreed.
World football governing body Fifa called in police after attempts to resolve a row between stadium stewards and contractors Stallion Security Consortium broke down.
This followed clashes between riot police and stewards upset at being paid less than promised, following the Germany-Australia match in Durban in the early hours of Monday.
Police have now taken over from Stallion at Durban’s Moses Mabhida stadium and Cape Town’s Green Point stadium, where England face Algeria on Friday.
A reported 2,000 workers marched outside the Durban stadium yesterday, though many dispersed after accepting money to hand over their orange bibs.
Fifa officials had been confident of no similar scenes at Ellis Park yesterday, but a demonstration did get under way early in the afternoon.
Trade union official Jackson Simon said: ‘We have asked our provincial leaders to go to stadiums and co-ordinate what we have to do to defend our members against exploitation.’
Workers employed for 12-hour have shifts suggested they had been promised up to 1,500 Rand (£134) per day – only to be given as little as 205 Rand (£18) apiece.
Some have said pay rates have been continuously falling – or not being paid at all.
An Eskom walk-out could hit power supplies to shops, hotels, restaurants and bars used by thousands of supporters.
The ten World Cup stadia all have back-up generators, but parts of Johannesburg’s Ellis Park stadium did suffer a power cut on Saturday.
The ‘illegal’ bus driver strike came as Dutch and Danish supporters emerged from Soccer City following Monday’s match.
About 800 supporters were eventually given free rail tickets then put on replacement buses to their original destinations.
The bus drivers were unhappy about being asked to work longer shifts, and for less money, than expected.
But they were returning to work yesterday (TUES) after a deal was reached.
Jackie Huntley, chief executive of bus contractors Clidet, said: ‘I apologise to commuters and spectators for any confusion and inconvenience that was caused.
‘We are hoping that the rest of the Soccer World Cup period will run smoothly and that we are able to transport thousands of fans to Ellis Park and Soccer City to watch their teams in action.’

"The waiting is the hardest part..."

2010-06-16T00:31:00.000+01:00

IRRITATED television viewers may have little sympathy, but 20 workers in South Africa have lost their jobs – just for blowing their vuvuzelas.
All 20 waiters at a steakhouse restaurant were all fired after three of them used the controversial horns to celebrate South Africa’s opening goal of the World Cup.
A pre-tournament meeting had apparently instructed Tulsa Spur employees in Witbank, Mpumalanga, only to blow the vuvuzelas outside – to avoid annoying diners.
But three could not control themselves when Siphiwe Tshabalala scored against Mexico last Friday – though they insist they went outdoors first.
One said: ‘We did as asked.
‘We were surprised when the manager stormed out, grabbed our vuvuzelas, smashed them and then fired us.’
Owner Gerhard Bouwer insisted he did not know of any agreement about blowing the instruments outside, saying: ‘They disobeyed a direct order that they shouldn’t watch TV and blow vuvuzelas.’

"Police and thieves in the street..."

2010-06-16T00:25:00.001+01:00

A WORLD Cup criminal picked the wrong victim when he stole a laptop from one of South Africa’s leading prosecutors.
A Peruvian man has been accused of swiping the computer belonging to a Lieutenant-Colonel A Basi, from South Africa’s Directorate of Priority Crimes.
The crime has duly been made a priority, as one of the first 21 cases fast-tracked through the country’s special ‘World Cup courts’.
Other offences include the theft of four branded Coca-Cola umbrellas whose total cost was said to - somehow - be 5,000 Rand, or £500, at a ‘fan park’ in Mpumalanga.
The National Prosecuting Authority said 13 of the first defendants were foreigners, with eight South Africans.
The accused include a South African man in Pretoria accused of pretending to be a British tourist before fleeing without paying his hotel and car hire bills.
A South African taxi driver has also been charged with stealing from a British passenger’s bag, while an American was accused of stealing four laptops and
Two Zimbabweans and a Nigerian were last week jailed for 15 years for a gunpoint robbery of Spanish and Portuguese journalists at their hotel in Magaliesburg.
Players from the Greek and Uruguayan squads have also had cash and property stolen from their hotel rooms.

"I'll be buzzing round your hive, every day at five..."

2010-06-14T22:36:00.002+01:00

GREAT news, all you devoted vuvuzela fans – they’re not only here to stay, but could soon be coming to rugby and cricket grounds near you.
That should prove a rude awakening to any aged MCC gents trying to sleep off those lunchtime Long Room gins on a summer’s afternoon at Lords.
The entertaining prospect – or chilling, you choose – emerged today from World Cup officials growing more bullish, the more the anti-cacophony crescendo builds.
The horns have been part of South African football fan culture all the way back to, ooh, at least the Eighties, but are now being heard at high-profile rugby matches.
Rich Mkhodo, from the World Cup’s organising committee, suggests: ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re used in cricket in future.
‘You either love them or you hate them. We in South Africa love them.’
Well, up to a point, Lord Copper – traders here have been selling out of anti-vuvuzela earplugs, yours for 15 Rand (£1.30) per pair.
*
Yet all-comers, not just locals, are carrying customised versions into games and looking liberated with every honk – even if the horns will end up stuffed in some cupboard back home.
And in the ear-smothering open, the vuvuzelas don’t actually drown out every other sound: plenty of cheers, chants, “oohs” and boos rise above.
But they do ensure an incessant storm of noise, even in those under-populated stands sadly seen so far.
Even in the conventional, Subbuteo grandstand-style setting of Pretoria’s Loftus Versfeld Stadium – used more for dull rugby, wouldn’t you know – Sunday’s football was lukewarm, but the atmosphere molten.
Not that this offers much comfort, I know, for those jamming their TVs’ mute button – even if some of the pundits should make those accursed horns a blessing after all.
*
En masse, they do of course sound like Satan’s own swarm of wasps – or the intro to Rimsky-Korsakov’s Flight Of The Bumblebee, only endlessly held in suspense.
(As performed on record by that Muppet, the Great Gonzo – not to be confused with that Muppet, the not-so-great Gonzalo, as seen up-front for Argentina the other day.)
Then again, plaintive single blasts sometimes heard early in the morning or late at night resemble the call of a faintly-resentful elephant.
Being amid the full din can certainly feel like being part of World Cup history – that is, a TV fuzzily transmitting from tournaments back in the Seventies and Eighties.
To other ears – well, at least, mine – it can call to mind orchestral ‘nightmare’ section of The Beatles’ A Day In The Life.
Still on a ‘musical’ tip, visiting Brit Neil Morrissey claims it ‘feels like I’ve been in the front row of a Status Quo concert’.
Love or hate the vuvuzela?
Well, I like it, I like it, I like it, I like it …

"Where did you go...?"

2010-06-14T21:43:00.003+01:00

IT’S a good job the Soccer City seats are orange, all the better to look like Dutch fans, because today’s match was another marked by curious no-shows.
Fifa claim stadia are indeed sold out – or near enough, anyway – despite all those embarrassing patches of empty seats.
So evidently many people have bought tickets but for some reason not turned up – or not been able to make their way in.
Organisaing officials also this morning insisted new traffic management guidelines would solve the gridlock problems that delayed many fans for the opening game last Friday.
Yet the fixture between the Netherlands and Denmark this lunchtime certainly looked rather more sparse than such promises – or official figures – might suggest.
The attendance was announced as 83,465 – 1,035 below the stadium’s World Cup capacity – but there looked to be at least 2,000 missing in the hospitality sections alone.
To be fair, the atmosphere – as on Sunday, in Pretoria – hardly seemed to suffer, despite the action on the field being only attractive in phases.
Since organisers insist the tickets have been sold, then concerns about high prices are only semi-relevant here.
From tomorrow, stadia for all games bar the lunchtime kick-off will open four hours ahead of kick-off, rather than three, in another attempt to get people in and settled down punctually.
Those going AWOL from Soccer City today did not necessarily miss much in terms of football, whether they arrived late or not at all.
Despite a stereotypically bright enough start from the Dutch, too often the likes of Robin van Persie and Rafael van der Vaart got a little bogged down in selfishness or over-elaboration.
After spending the first quarter of the match defending stoutly, if unambitiously, the Danes did approach half-time in a more expansive frame of mind.
Nicolas Bendtner, despite at times making Peter Crouch look elegant, dropped very deep into midfield to help sweetly and suddenly switch the play goalwards.
And some raking cross-field balls from left-back not only found their man – and found their man able to trap the ball and move ahead with it, unlike, say, South Africa’s Modise on Friday or Serbia’s Krasic on Monday.
Not quite the 1986 vintage Danes, then, but encouraging as the opening half drew to a close – only for the start of the second to wipe that all out.
Simon Poulsen – one of three non-related Poulsens in the squad – blotted his encouraging first-half copybook by nodding a Van Persie cross into his own net, less than a minute after the restart.
Actually, perhaps Daniel Agger will be ‘given’ the own goal, since it brushed in off his back – but the guilt was all Poulsen’s. At least he was involved, however unhappily – usual attack-dog Christian was anonymous in midfield.
After that, Denmark hardly looked like coming back into the match, even when introducing much-hyped 18-year-old Christian Eriksen as a sub.
At least he didn’t do what Ajax team-mate – and fellow creative ‘wonderkid’ – Nicolas Lodeiros did, as a Uruguay sub last Friday. But doing something, anything, might have helped – ah, it’s still early days, of course… And the circumstances hardly helped.
Especially once Dirk Kuyt had tapped in for a Dutch double, following perhaps the most incisive move of the match – and a rather shoddy failure to play catch-up by Simon Kjaer.
The final through-ball came from Wesley Sneijder, named man of the match and yet still looking to be playing on cruise control – with several more gears still to be moved up into.
This was certainly a steadier start for the Dutch than their entry into the Euros two years ago, though whether they exit similarly might depend on whether their defence gets better-tested.
Surely it must, with the likes of Van Bronckhorst and Mathijsen vulnerable to pacier and classier opponents than today – even if they did have the best defensive record in Uefa’s World Cup qualifiers.
Many – especially goalkeepers, surprisingly enough – have been complaining about the ball, though often simply getting their excuses in early (or late and implausibly, in the England camp).
But perhaps the altitude of some games is more to blame for the slightly-reserved nature of performances so far – not that players are puffed out already, but taking things as cautiously as possible to preserve their strength.
The most exciting performances – and matches – have been those played at less-debilitating sea level, the lucky in Germans in Durban above (so to speak) all.
The Italians, despite only drawing in Cape Town tonight, certainly ended the match robustly enough, as had South Korea in Port Elizabeth and even England and the USA in Rustenburg.
Maybe a better idea of just how wunderbar these German tyros really are will come not only when they meet someone less abysmal than the Aussies, but when forced to move up on to higher ground.
With, hopefully, full houses hitting the lofty heights too.

"You don't have to put on the red light..."

2010-06-14T21:34:00.001+01:00

SEX workers hoping to cash in on the World Cup are being swept into slums by South African police – to the alarm of those trying to help them.
Aid workers have been taken aback by how many women expect ‘busloads of tourists’ to arrive at the hotels they increasingly use as brothels in major World Cup city Johannesburg.
But they are determined to get more to follow the example of an ex-prostitute now receiving a different kind of client, after managing to retrain as a beautician.
Promises of earning up to £300 per day have been luring many women – often desperate immigrants - into prostitution.
This is despite warnings they face harassment by police and violence by clients and the owners of supposed bars and hotels used effectively as brothels.
Football fans coming to South Africa and sleeping with prostitutes could also be exposing themselves to HIV, in a country with one of the world’s highest Aids rates.
Current president Jacob Zuma has tried to distance his government from the attitude of predecessor Thabo Mbeki, who attracted global scorn for doubting a link between HIV and Aids and blocking drugs treatments.
Yet there are still an estimated 5.7million people in South Africa living with HIV, or more than 10 per cent of all South Africans – the fifth highest rate in the world.
Aids is thought to have killed 756,000 people in South Africa in 2008 – more than in any other country.
With risks still so high, health workers were concerned last week to make their usual visits to test sex workers’ HIV status, offer help and hand out condoms – only to find doors barred and buildings empty.
Ellen Crabtree, a British VSO volunteer in Johannesburg’s deprived inner-city Hillbrow district, said: ‘All the buildings were padlocked from the outside – it was clear police have been moving women on.
‘If we don’t know where they are, we can’t help them – and if they’re now working alone on the streets, or living in squats, they’ll be much more at risk.
‘If we’re not addressing HIV in the sex worker community, we’re not addressing the pandemic.’
Her colleague, clinical nurse Nonklankla Motlokoa, said: ‘The perception of the girls is that they will get rich.
‘They think there will be a busload of tourists dropped at their hotel.
‘So many are saying to me, after 2010 I will be rich and then I will leave sex work.’
Studies suggest only five out of 100 women working in Johannesburg brothels will be successful in leaving the sex industry at some point – despite the dangers.
Nonklankla warned: ‘Often girls with no money are raped by the police - all they have to give is their bodies.
‘Our girls on the streets are also very vulnerable to cuts, bruises and attacks from their clients.
‘Some men even pretend to be clients and then attack or kill sex workers. They will go just to be violent.’
Many foreign prostitutes have no legal papers and are too scared to come to established clinics or even leave their brothels, she added – making their mobile clinics all the more important, so long as they can find people to assist.

POLICE have been threatening for months to launch a World Cup clean-up programme aimed at Johannesburg’s prostitutes, according to a woman who refuses to leave the sex trade.
Mary, 32, had wanted to work as a beautician but has been working as a prostitute to pay healthcare bills for two blind sisters.
She said: Cops have been harassing girls, promising: “We will arrest you for 2010.”’
But she insisted: ‘Sex work has been around for centuries.
‘We are not stealing from anyone. We know there is a lot of money there.
‘There is no way to survive in Johannesburg with no work, no education.’
There is hope of a way out for some, though, if willing and able to take it.
Zimbabwean mother-of-three Pauline, 35, gained confidence as one of the Hillbrow project’s ‘peer educators’ – accepting a 1,000 Rand monthly stipend instead of up to 3,000 Rand per day as a prostitute.
Pauline, previously a prostitute for two years, said: “Becoming a peer educator allowed me to train as a beauty therapist this year and I have a dream that one day I will be able to be my own businesswoman with my own spa.
‘People think sex workers can’t do anything, they can’t think, they have no education, she can’t think.
‘I want to show that as sex workers we are talented in our minds.
‘I used to earn 5,000 to 6,000 Rand (£450 to £540) a week and now I earn 500 to 600 (£45 to £54) a day.
‘But now I meet different people, I am not in danger. I have focus and I have a job and pride.
‘I am done with my former work.’

"Blame it on the Black Stars..."

2010-06-13T18:48:00.005+01:00

AFTER Friday’s home draw that felt like a home win, today brought similarly joyous celebrations – even if today’s home win, well, wasn’t. Quite.
Yet those posters and pledges of ‘Africa United’ proved more than just symbolic as Ghana earned and embraced the continent's first triumph of the tournament - on the pitch, anyway.
The winter sun-smeared skies were cloudless over Pretoria, as I (finally) found my seat, cooped up high in the Loft...us Versfeld stadium, one of the more conventionally-built venues of the tournament with its Subbuteo-style grandstands
Ah, that’s why – it’s more usually used for dull rugby.
While the climate has lurched between poles of hot and cold, the football so far has felt a little lukewarm – yet the atmosphere again today was, as they say, electric.
Not just those horns and their literally breathtaking persistence - but also the uninhibited and vivid dancing, colour and expression, actually from hosts and visitors alike.
‘Feel it, Ghana is here’ declared a banner patiently paraded along the touchline towards the end of today’s compelling enough action, with the ‘Black Stars’ deserving winners – even if Aleksandr Lukovic’s red card looked a little petty.
No doubts about the late penalty award, with Zdravzko Kuzmanovic’s random hand up brought back to mind Fredi Kanoute’s similar moment of madness that once cost Spurs a Carling Cup tie against Liverpool B.
The temperamental Asamoah Gyan, today troublesome throughout but in a good way, drove it past Vladimir Stojkovic – one of two Wigan goalkeepers on the pitch, how odd – and unleashed that storm in the stands.
The crowd – alas, still a little sparse in patches - had gone crazy enough just to see Stephen Appiah come on a few minutes earlier.
The shrieks and acclaim made for possibly the most over-gleeful response to a substitution since David Beckham was making meaningless Wembley cameos.
For what little time he was on the pitch, Appiah trudged around further forward than at the last World Cup – but, along with Gyan, it was the wingers who really gave Ghana their oomph, up against Serbia’s better organisation.
Prince Tagoe – bested by Kevin-Prince Boateng in the battle to have simply ‘PRINCE’ on the shirt – darted around with skill and purpose, switching neatly at times with Kwadwo Asamoah right of central midfield.
And Andre Ayew, while a little too tentative when given the ball and space to run at first, looked more threatening when summoning up the confidence to surge inside and through on goal.
Perhaps he could do with an ‘Arry-esque arm round the shoulder, and shot in the arm – or hypnosis to persuade him he’s actually the original Pele, instead of simply the son of the African version.
Whether those powers rest with Ghana’s Serbian coach Milovan Rajevac might be open to question – today he looked like a man recovering from a heavy night out, or a possible Rigsby in a Rising Damp remake.
But victory was his, rather than going the way of Serbia and their Serbian coach Raddy Antic, who looks to have put together a well-practiced but toothless team.
Certainly, CSKA Moscow winger Milos Krasic, dynamic in last season’s Champions League, was a huge disappointment today – barely touching the ball in the first half, aside from two embarrassing miscues on the touchline.
He did come closest to scoring for Serbia, with a well-wellied drive at Richard Kingson’s fortunate fists, but – as with Angel Di Maria’s subdued display for Argentina yesterday – hopes had been higher. Hey, have another go…
Nenad Milijas’ rehearsed and artful set-pieces could have worked surprises, but for failings of technique by those they were aimed at – and the Wolves man, so easily-tired, trudged off not long after his half-time breather.
Meanwhile, Dejan Stankovic didn’t quite stink the place out, but sat too umambitiously deep and kept hitting the ball too aimlessly long.
Milan Jovanovic gave glimpses of twinkly toes that could please Liverpool fans – all right, for free, anyway – but Nikola Zigic’s tangle of long legs when failing to score from four yards only suggested Birmingham’s £6million looks like money, well, just spent.
Serba gained a little more thrust when reduced to ten men, but Ghana themselves could – and should – have scored more than just their third penalty in five World Cup matches.
Perhaps that’s why Rajevac looked surprisingly rueful at full-time. Or, more likely of course, he recalled where he came from - as did John Pantsil, who even as his players and staff surged all over the field – John Pantsil having remembered tafter flourishing the Israeli flag four years ago, handily remembered to bring along the right flag this time.

All the while, the surrounding cacophony continued, justly defying those anti-vuvuzela misery-guts – among them now, it seems, the BBC. For shame.
The post-penalty rush was such, that no one even seemed to notice the steward who fell over when chasing a pitch invader.
That would guarantee some big, big laughs back home in Britain, surely...
Ah, but maybe there were more important things to worry about.
Like, simply, deliciously losing it while winning.
Okay game, sure - special occasion, more.

"It's not easy bein' Green..."

2010-06-13T17:45:00.002+01:00

HOLLYWOOD has always done a prolific line in movies about gallant Americans getting one over on the dastardly – or doltish – English.
So Saturday night’s events could make a sequel to The Game Of Their Lives, the 2005 film – seldom seen in UK cinemas, funnily enough – about the USA’s 500-1 humiliation of Billy Wright’s England at the 1950 World Cup.
When asked at the Americans’ farm base in Centurion who might play him in a 2010 follow-up, US captain Landon Donovan suggested: ‘I do like Johnny Depp.’
Edward Scissorhands would probably prove a safer bet in goal than England’s Robert Green, mind.
As goalkeeping gaffes go, Green’s was a classic – perhaps aptly so, for a footballer who once snubbed the usual sports autobiographies or Andy McNab thrillers to name his all-time favourite book as the Iliad by Homer.
All together now: d’oh!
Many years from now, will East Enders be going on and on about how West Ham lost the World Cup in 2010?
Or does Green, like England’s 1950 goalkeeper Bert Williams, have an MBE to look forward to, in 60 years’ time?
***
Armour-clad English knights faced off against Captain America clones - including one in stars-and-stripe face-paint and cape in the stadium media centre, suggesting an impartiality worthy of England’s fervent Fifth Estate.
US Soccer chief Sunil Gulati said the match generated more ‘watercooler’ interest Stateside than any football match in history – though admitted many assumed it was the actual World Cup final.
First-timers tuning in might still be bemused it could end an unsatisfying tie.
Yet there should be little patronising the – admittedly shrill - US support inside the stadium, estimated at 10,000 to England’s ‘meagre’ 6,000.
It certainly seemed a little unnecessary for the stadium announcer to keep booming out the current scoreline – as if assuming we were watching in ITV HD.
***
Making his way to the team bus, Glen Johnson snorted in scorn when a journalist (from elsewhere) asked him whether it was time for ‘England in crisis’ headlines – not that his say-so was being sought, of course.
And Jamie Carragher was keen to make comparisons with England’s 1990 World Cup opener, after recently watching it on ESPN.
He has a point – that was another turgid 1-1 draw, against a bunch of well-drilled, limited but physical English-speakers, with possible salvation still to come against some North Africans.
If desperate – and after that display, why not? – you could also point out America’s equaliser came from a left-sided midfielder with a name ending in ‘-y’.
The scapegoat for Kevin Sheedy’s 1990 goal for the Republic of Ireland was Steve McMahon who – Rob Green, look away now – won a grand total of three more England caps.
Now if only, after all those alleged omens, we had a Gazza-esque midfield schemer in their somewhere - or at least anyone anywhere near half as creative, play-making...
***
Johnson emerged from the dressing room sporting a brightly-glowing lower-lip, suggesting he spent Fabio Capello’s post-match team-tirade sucking a Strawberry Mivvi for comfort.
He was keen to point out it was caused by an errant elbow – quickly fingering goalscorer Dempsey, so to speak.
Yet he stayed silent, when invited to politely confirm it must have been accidental.
***
Saturday night was a deflating experience in more ways than one.
A burst tyre when lost somewhere in the middle of South African outback nowhere – and in the early hours of the morning – was not ideal for the nerves. Or the patience.
Without even being able to blame Rob Green for this mishap.
Instead, curse the crater-pockmarked excuses for roads that replaced the more sleek and even highways -about 50 yards beyond England’s Royal Bafokeng Sports Palace base.

"My mind is like an angry swarm of bees..."

2010-06-11T18:49:00.007+01:00

South Africa 1 Mexico 1
Well, that was a bit of a buzz. Which almost had a sting in the tail.
Even Sepp Blatter, football’s most powerful man, looked and sounded a little taken aback by the pure power and intensity of Africa’s long-awaited World Cup welcome, as he forgivably gifted himself a little pre-match speech on the pitch.
And just when the relentless intensity inside the Soccer City ‘cooking pot’ bowl had reached the very top of its range, somehow the crowd - that feverish swarm of vuvuzelas - could send the volume surging still higher to a Spinal Tap-style level eleven.
Siphiwe Tshabalala’s sweetly-lashed opener should guarantee the self-proclaimed YouTube addict a hefty segment of the site to himself.
He spoke before the match about spending hours following ‘best free-kick’ links, to hone his own set-piece technique, but today’s open-play piledriver could provide a few lessons of its own.
And not just in the finish – Fulham’s Kagisho Dikgacoi need feel no urge to change his name, after a clever and committed second-half display and the cute through-ball putting Tshabalala on a clear path into the history books.
Patches of empty seats suggested the announcement of a capacity 84,900 crowd might have been a little less accurate than Tshabalala’s aim.

Yet there could have been twice as many crammed inside here, judging by the racket this bouncing, beaming crowd created – expressing somehow both a nervous make-the-most-of-the-moment disbelief and a satisfied this-is-how-it-should-be self-assurance.
While there was little let-up in terms of sound from the fans, the home players’ own confidence came and went.
A rocky, sloppy start, as the Mexicans threatened to canter away with it, was followed by some modestly intricate passing moves as the first half scampered by – especially as Pienaar deserted his right-wing station as if worried he might miss out on some fun.
His team’s left flank certainly needed some bolstering, with Giovani dos Santos sparkling and yet often found himself usefully overlapped by his own right wing-back, Paul Aguilar.
Yet early indications that Aguilar and central midfield organiser Gerardo Torrado would run the match just the way they wanted gradually receded.
South Africa not only hung on until half-time – helped no little by goalkeeper Ike Khune and a dutifully-flagging linesman – but could have nodded themselves into the lead, had lumbering frontman Katlego Mphela.
Did Mexico really need to persevere with three men in central – if elastic – defence when faced by a harmless Mphela and, tucked just behind, a miscuing Teko Modise?
At least the belated arrival, in the second half, of Andres Guardado gave them both impetus and deadly crossing down the wing, even if by that point South Africa had taken the lead, missed a sitter (Modise) and been denied a perfectly-arguable penalty.
Rafael Marquez, curbing his instincts to roam like an old-fashioned centre-half for much of the game, did turn up in the right spot at the right time to swipe an equaliser.
South Africa had ten men in the box as Guardado’s crucial cross swept over, though captain Aaron Mokoena could feel aggrieved to find himself abandoned and left to cover up to four attacking Mexicans.
Inevitably, one of them ended up hitting the net, suggesting home coach Carlos Parreira – a zonal marking devotee – has at least a little more fine-tuning to do.
But the fans sounded a fairly forgiving bunch, the only moment of quickfire quiet coming in the few seconds after an anti-climactic – and inaudible – final whistle.
The pipes were soon parping again – surely lips should be chapped, lungs running out of puff? – as the makarapa-helmeted heads bobbed back down the stairs and ramps, out on to the streets, and into the night.

For the second World Cup in a row, an opening game has proved a refreshing and entertaining sight – though even that bubbly Allianz Arena crammed with even bubblier Bavarians never felt nor sounded quite like this.

"Tell me what you see..."

2010-06-11T13:38:00.003+01:00

Just quickly, a few pre-tournament predictions:
Winners: Brazil – dull Dunga took great pride in their joga benito-less triumph in 1994, and could repeat as coach what he achieved then as captain, with a robust and ruthlessly-efficient counter-attacking team. At least Kaka, Dani Alves and Maicon have class. The two old Gilbertos, both once of North London, look less understandable
Runners-up: Italy. Such a simple group means even they might struggle to make their archetypal slow start, so maybe they’ve just been getting it out of the way earlier in dispiriting pre-tournament friendlies. Not quite so ageing as expected (the sadly-going-going-long-gone Cannavaro aside), while the midfield has bite in De Rossi and craft in Montolivo. And they’ll be intent on resuming normal service against Spain.
Semi-finalists: Argentina, Ghana.
England’s prospects: Same old, same old quarter-final. Though, just to be original, having knocked out Germany in the second round.
Surprise packages: Well-organised but feisty Ghana, Marcelo Bielsa’s tactically-daring and flair-filled Chile.
Golden Boot winner: After the 2006 World Cup, for the first time, featured not a single hat-trick, how about Spain’s David Villa to hit two en route to the Golden Boot?
Non-superstar stars: Argentina’s Angel di Maria. Mexico’s Giovani dos Santos. Chile’s Matias Fernandez. New Zealand’s Chris James, also of Barnet. One of these, maybe not.
Miscellaneous: John Terry and/or Ashley Cole sent off. More English red cards, albeit a fair (or unfair) few flourished by Howard Webb. And unlike in 1966, North Korea to actually hold on for a draw against Portugal this time.

"We all face the same way..."

2010-06-11T12:38:00.002+01:00

In the predictably-gridlocked streets approaching Soccer City, the resentful-elephant drone of the vuvuzelas has to harmonise – of sorts – with the pounding of stationary car horns.
It may be a bit of a din, but it’s a joyous one – even if it has just taken more than four hours to crawl the 30km from Pretoria.
Apparently even the South African team are struggling to get their bus out of the Johannesburg suburb of Sandton - setting for a similar snarl-up for that premature open-top bus tour on Wednesday, though they didn't then have a rather important match just a few hours later.
Organisers may have warned people to leave their cars at home, and many exuberant ‘Bafana Bafana’ are scampering by on foot.
Yet perhaps the very first World Cup finals match ever staged on African soil was always going to cause a bit of a jam, even with the dubious pomp of the opening ceremony to come first.
In such an ebullient atmosphere, it would certainly seem a little churlish to buy a pair of earplugs – cannily offered at 15 Rand apiece, or £1.50, by a lady darting her way through the traffic in a typically-vivid sandwich board.
Occasionally, over the amateur horn concertos that have been playing since dawn, there might come a human cry of ‘Shapa, Bafana, shapa!’ – that is, ‘Beat them, boys, beat them’.
The hosts look determined to make the very eye-catching, ear-splitting most of this historic event, so long in the waiting, so controversial in the making and so hopefully sweet in the staging.
The morning newspaper forecasts appear resigned to first-round heartbreak, though the fans themselves are not so sure – not a bit of it, in fact.
‘The World Cup trophy is ours. We’ve already won it. There’s no way it will leave the country,’ declares optimists’ optimist Tefo Khuse, while Oko Nkungwana insists: ‘I know the Bafana will beat the other teams.’
Not any more cocksure than you’ll no doubt find in England, of course, though it’s all easier said than done – especially with some tasty Mexicans up first this afternoon.
The Central Americans, coached once more by 2002 World Cup manager (and 1986 World Cup red card offender) Javier Aguirre, were niftily impressive at Wembley last month – even though dire defending at setpieces gifted England a stodgy win.
Stereotypically-speedy wingers such as Giovani Dos Santos, Andres Guardado and – flickeringly – Carlos Vela certainly drag defences wildly about and stretch the active playing field as wide open as, well, Group A itself.
But South African’s Brazilian World Cup-winning coach Carlos Parreira will have spent three months of intensive training not only improving fitness – as seen in the recent 12-match unbeaten run – but emphasing similar playing ideals.
Like the visitors, the hosts should be looking to hoard possession when possible and deliver the ball at speed – still patrolling and hustling in midfield, should the Mexicans prove slightly more successful at the art.
Parreira cites as one of his favourite footballing phrases: ‘A rapid pass with accuracy is one of the most devastating weapons.’
(You might say ‘If it were done when ‘tis done, then ‘twere well it were done quickly’, if your name were Macbeth – perhaps a certain South African midfielder, surname Sibaya, should try it.)
Okay, so South Africa will struggle to do so, quite as devastatingly nor enchantingly, as, say, Spain two years ago at Euro 2008 or in most of the months since.
But the home fervour, recent match-winning morale boosts, and a new-found physical robustness, could tilt this game if not decisively in South Africa’s favour, then at least a little against a massacre by Mexicans.
Perhaps it really will all come down to a struggle between the soundtracks – vuvuzela versus mariachis.
There’s only one way to settle this – pipe...

"Begin the begin..."

2010-06-11T11:59:00.001+01:00

‘SOUTH Africa 2010 – it’s possible.’
The old slogan could have done with a little extra oomph, when planners made a courtesy call on Euro 2008 – perhaps cowed by the power of Euro-scepticism. Or, simply, cynicism.
Doom’n’gloomy headline revenge may well be wreaked on Olympic London in two years’ time.
But for now, those behind Africa’s first World Cup could be forgiven for feeling a little battered by scare stories, from reasonable alarms about crime and travel safety to fatuous warnings about Egyptian cobras that could each devour two 23-man squads.
Instead, as organisers and volunteers launch one final heave, they look exhilarated – not because the effort’s almost over, but vindication could be theirs.
To risk stating the bleedin’ obvious, Sepp Blatter’s Fifa cannot always be relied upon to get things right.
Putting electronic voting pads to the test at Fifa Congress yesterday, seven blazers still somehow answered ‘No’ to the simple sample question: ‘Are Italy the reigning world champions?’
But giving South Africa a World Cup of its own – even at the second time of asking – was a leap of faith that could prove its own reward.
Many toiling in squalid slums or refugee camps might well wonder still what they get from a tournament costing £4billion while pumping hefty profits into Fifa coffers.
True, the World Cup spotlight has helped stimulate some healthcare and education aid, from Fifa’s ‘Football For Hope’ scheme to many smaller-scale, grass-roots initiatives.
Yet today might provide a more persuasive answer – albeit one richer in emotion than redistributive hard cash.
Nelson Mandela and fellow Robben Island prisoners used to bolster morale with competitive kickabouts, or tuning into scratchy snatches of World Cup radio commentary.
Now football, always favoured by the black majority, can invade and upgrade venues once the preserve of the rugby-loving Afrikaaner minority – with access to soccer stadia happily traded in return.
Today’s message is ‘Africa United’, convincing even if prominent poster boys Michael Essien and Jon Obi Mikel have become injured absent friends.
A traditional sangoma forecasts a valiant South African defeat in the final, having ‘thrown and read the bones’ – a grislier twist on the remains of the Earl Grey.
Speak to many ‘Bafana Bafana’ fans and they’ll suggest no such thing – seeing a semi-final place as rather more realistic. For now.
Yes, it’s that clichéd – yet irresistible – ‘feelgood factor’, sweeping a country, a continent – and from a few hours’ time, a whole small world too.
And well, if the South Africans can’t blow their own trumpet…
Speaking of which, Wednesday was official National Vuvuzela Day, with the instruction to honk hard on those horns for 15 minutes solid at midday.
(Don’t worry – there are only another 31 unofficial national vuvuzela days ahead.)
And when it all comes to an end on July 11, so what if these stunningly unique – and expensive – stadia, their vivid paint still damp, get used for nothing so significant ever again?
Because, ah, look at what they’re being used for now.
That is, showcasing the Rooneys, Messis, Pienaars and surprise heroes still to stake a claim – enthralling
3million fanatics in the stands and 3billion pairs of eyes goggling at the box.
South Africa 2010 – it’s here. Anything’s possible.

"Waiting for the wait to stop..."

2010-06-11T11:58:00.000+01:00

TODAY’S dawning of Africa’s inaugural World Cup ranks in history alongside Nelson Mandela’s release and South Africa’s first free elections, the man in charge has declared.
World Cup boss Danny Jordaan also gave the strongest signal yet that 91-year-old former president ‘Madiba’ will be well enough to appear at today’s long-awaited grand opening – though he spoke before the tragic death of Mr Mandela’s great-granddaughter.
Dr Jordaan, who has strived for 16 years to bring football’s showpiece event to Africa, promised this would be the finest World Cup in history.
And he revealed how South Africa was fired up by international scepticism about the their abilities to stage the event – especially cynical taunts from England.
Former sports minister Tony Banks once told him anyone rating South Africa a better World Cup host than England ‘must believe Elvis is still alive and living on the moon’.
A 1,500-strong cast will perform in a two-hour opening ceremony at Johannesburg’s revamped Soccer City stadium this lunchtime, before the hosts kick off against Mexico.
Dr Jordaan, a veteran anti-apartheid campaigner and former MP, yesterday repeatedly ranked the World Cup ‘struggle’ alongside those for freedom and equality.
He expects June 11 2010 to go down in history alongside February 11 1990, when Mr Mandela walked free, and the first post-apartheid elections on April 27 1994.
Dr Jordaan said: ‘Madiba’s release was celebrated as one of the world’s greatest icons.
‘The election was dubbed a miracle of the “Rainbow Nation”.
‘Now this will be another spectacular moment.’
On whether Mr Mandela would make it to Soccer City today, he conceded: ‘It’s a very difficult question.
‘Nelson Mandela himself wants to be there.
‘Whether he stays five minutes or the whole match is not our decision, but as things stand there’s a very very great chance he will be there.
‘We’ll just be happy if he shows his face.’
But that was before the ex-president’s 13-year-old great-granddaughter Zenani Mandela was killed in a car accident in central Johannesburg last night.
The organising committee today expressed their sadness and paid tribute to Zenani, who brought the Confederations Cup trophy on to the Ellis Park podium for the final of last year’s tournament.
Just a few hours earlier before Zenani was killed, three British students died when their tour bus overturned near Nelspruit
The 20-strong party from Leicestershire were not in South Africa for the football, but the accident suggested to some that the country’s roads were still unfit – despite receiving up to £310million of government funds.
The last few days before kick-off had already been marred by a stadium stampede during an international friendly on Sunday and the gunpoint robbery of three foreign journalists on Wednesday.
And preparations have long been dogged by concerns about crime and security, beleaguered healthcare, and whether the ten matchday stadia would be ready in time.
Yet on the football side, total infrastructure investment worth £4billion has helped ensure all ten venues were ready - and among the most distinctive in World Cup history.
Other work delivered on time include widened highways, a new airport at Durban and another air terminal at Johannesburg – while organisers claim to have created 150,000 new jobs.
Cape Town will host a three-day economic summit mid-way through the tournament, hoping to capitalise on the World Cup’s success and attract international investors.
Dr Jordaan vowed visitors and viewers would be wowed by the stadia and other infrastructure and ‘begin to understand what we talked about wasn’t just talk’.
‘It’s a determination to present the best World Cup ever,’ he added.
‘It’s a psychological barrier that’s been crossed – it’s a historical moment that’s being changed.
‘We’ve always said the World Cup must be a celebration.
‘It must help an image makeover, in the country and the continent.’
He admitted feeling frustrated by negative headlines and speculation, but said: ‘You have to be calm and not lose sight of the ultimate aim – that everything will be fine and this World Cup will be great.’
Kirsten Nematandani, president of the South African Football Association, added: ‘Today it feels good to be an African.
‘Today I woke up in a country ablaze with the bright colours of a very special flag.
‘From taxi drivers to gleaming new sports cars, everywhere is alive with the colours of the “Rainbow Nation”, on the brink of a very special celebration.’

Know which side your bread's Blattered...

2010-06-10T22:45:00.004+01:00

"I'm a happy man, I have a happy Congress", declared generous Sepp Blatter 12 months ahead of his FIFA presidential re-election attempt...
... and moments after an announcement of £134million in profits and £723m in assets helped him produce surprise £170,000 bonuses for each member FA, and £10millions apiece for the confederations such as Uefa.
Never mind hat-tricks - is it trebles all-round?

"If you didn't come to party, then why did you come here?"

2010-06-10T22:28:00.001+01:00

THOUSANDS of fans streamed the streets, cheering on the football heroes basking in glory on an open-top bus.
Hang on – isn’t this how World Cups are supposed to finish, not begin?
Then again, when your team fears becoming the first host nation to fall at the first hurdle, it might be best to celebrate when you still can.
Roads jammed, offices emptied and those pesky vuvuzela horns honked hard as the South Africa squad took a not-quite-earned-yet lap of honour around the Johannesburg suburb of Sandton.
The South Africans could yet surprise, of course – suddenly looking like they might just be the best-performing African team after all.
They go into tomorrow’s big kick-off on the back of a 12-match unbeaten run, under the leadership of Brazilian World Cup-winner Carlos Parreira.
And their continental rivals have been hit by injuries to Jon Obi Mikel’s ankle, Michael Essien’s knee, Didier Drogba’s elbow and Samuel Eto’o’s ego.
The hosts have at least shown already they can party hard – and fast. Win or – yes, much more probably – lose, yesterday’s gala won’t be the last.

"Keep on knockin' but you can't come in..."

2010-06-10T22:26:00.001+01:00

THE TEN host venues have all finally been topped out and now look in tip-top condition.
World governing body Fifa at last felt confident enough yesterday to announce precisely how many seats would be available in each one.
Yet more than 40,000 could be going to waste, so to speak.
The ten stadia offer a total of 514,599 seats, ranging from the 84,490-capacity Soccer City in Johannesburg to the 38,646-seat Royal Bafokeng in Rustenburg.
Tot up the venues’ gross capacities when not taken over for World Cup purposes, however, and you could squeeze as many as 556,000 bums on to seats.
Blame those usual suspects – VIPs and their hospitality suites. And, admittedly, the media – though mainly those wielding cameras.
The last 35,000 tickets are now up for grabs, being peddled yesterday at about £140 apiece for best seats – or for one-tenth as much, close to the touchline but with restricted views.
Sat behind Peter Crouch on the subs’ bench perhaps, – or the smoke from one of Diego Maradona’s fat cigars. Or just Maradona’s own fat.

Home, home on the range...

2010-06-10T22:22:00.002+01:00

FABIO Capello has been giving football tips to his US counterpart – though it took a while for Michael Bradley to even realise.
Praising Capello yesterday for his tactical flexibility, the US coach said: ‘The quote’s he always used with me was, “When you make wine, the grapes aren’t always the same.”
‘The first few times he said it, I thought he was actually talking about wine.
‘I only eventually realised he was trying to tell me a few things about football.’
Bradley could in fact turn his hand to milk-churning instead of grape-crushing, as the good ol’ boys of the USA spend this summer down on the range.
The squad is based around the Irene dairy farm, near Pretoria, where players can find themselves picking a path through cows and chickens en route to public appearances.

"But I want to know for sure...?"

2010-06-10T22:21:00.000+01:00

ENGLAND’S figure-conscious Wags have been promised a slap-up meal by their highest-profile South African equivalent.
Matthew Booth’s wife Sonia wants to take the likes of Victoria Beckham, Coleen Rooney and Christine Bleakley to her mum’s home in Soweto and force-feed them an authentic local feast.
‘Pap, boerewors, chakalaka – nothing fancy, just traditional South African food,’ she promised.
(Pap is a kind of porridge, boerewors a sausage and chakalaka a spicy relish.)
And if Posh finds such pap hard to swallow, she should try forcing down the ‘Wild Thing’ offered to many visitors almost as soon as they arrive.
This Wild Thing that might indeed make your heart sing – though with pain, not pleasure – comprises hefty chunks of springbok, ostrich and warthog on a spit.
Your non-daredevil, meat-dodging Metro reporter made his excuses … and ordered the salad.

"I'm so bored with the USA..."

2010-06-10T22:19:00.001+01:00

AMERICA’S tough tacklers have warned England to expect a ‘good hard game’ – but insisted they will not try to deliberately wind up Wayne Rooney.
US coach Bob Bradley promised a robust approach in what American soccer chiefs yesterday described as the most exciting football match in the country’s history.
But he also expressed respect for temperamental Rooney – as well as England coach Fabio Capello, who once faced a US college team coached by Bradley.
The man now leading the USA’s sixth consecutive World Cup finals campaign once took a Princeton University team to AC Milan’s Milanello base, in the mid-Nineties.
They took on a team of Milan reserves, in a coaching session overseen by the Serie A giants’ then-boss Capello.
Bradley expects Saturday’s match to be a little less friendly, but vowed no dirty tricks – despite renewed questions about Rooney’s volatile temper.
When asked whether his players would deliberately target Rooney, he said: ‘No, we won’t enter all that.’
Bradley spoke of ‘a tremendous respect for Rooney as a player’, praising ‘his effort, his competitiveness, his movement’.
USA captain Landon Donovan predicted: ‘I think Rooney’ll going to be just fine on Saturday.’
But Bradley pledged: ‘It’ll be a good, hard game.’
Brazilian referee Carlos Simon has been accused of card-happiness, while also serving a brief domestic suspension following complaints about his officiating.
Bradley will advise his men to be careful, saying: ‘It’s important that there’s discipline.
‘We’ve seen in a number of World Cups, especially in the first round, that players must respect their opponents or else there’ll be cards given.’
The US have won a reputation for being among the most athletic, and physically robust of international sides.
Even US Soccer chief executive Sunil Gulati yesterday admitted American players tended to lack flair.
Bradley was assistant coach when the US were involved in one of the last World Cup’s most X-rated matches, reduced to nine men in a group game against Italy.
Pablo Mastroeni and Eddie Pope were both dismissed in Kaiserslautern for wince-inducing challenges.
The violence was not all one-way – striker Brian McBride took an elbow-smash to the face from Daniele De Rossi, who was also sent off.
But while neither Mastroeni nor Pope are here this time, cards can be expected by the likes of the coach’s own son Michael Bradley.
The combative Borussia Monchengladbach midfielder’s tendency to collect bookings saw him suspended from the final of both the 2009 Confederations Cup and the same year’s CONCACAF Gold Cup.
Premier League fans may still vividly recall US striker Jozy Altidore’s headbutt assault on Sunderland’s Alan Hutton, when playing for Hull City last season.
Donovan himself was involved in the incident which left Chelsea and England left-back Ashley Cole’s World Cup place in doubt last season.
While yesterday insisting he was glad to see Cole recovered in time from his ankle injury, Donovan said there had been no contact between the two players – nor with his LA Galaxy team-mate David Beckham.
But Donovan, who spent the second half of the season on loan at Everton, said he expected the club’s Scottish manager David Moyes to be cheering on the US.
The forward, who said any talk of an Everton return would be delayed until after the World Cup, said: ‘I’ve had no message from David Moyes.
‘But my guess is, learning a little bit about how the English and the Scots are, is that he’s rooting for us.’
While the England camp remains plagued by injury doubts, Bradley declared: ‘Every player in my 23 is ready to play 90 minutes if asked.’
That includes, he insisted, the ex-Newcastle Uniited centre-back Oguchi Onyewu, who missed most of his first season at AC Milan with knee ligament damage.
Saturday’s clash with England is the talk of the watercooler across the US, according to football federation chief Dr Gulati.
He added: ‘There’s more interest back home in this game than any the US has played for a long time – probably ever.
‘The national team has even featured on the front cover of Time magazine – anyone remember when that’s ever happened for soccer?
‘Certainly the watercooler talk is greater for this Saturday than I’ve ever seen for a World Cup.’

More of my back pages...

2010-06-10T22:15:00.002+01:00

Because, well well, just because...:
http://metro.typepad.com/euro_2008_blog/
Now, what's next? Ah yes... that's enough playing (pointless) catch-up.

Zimbabwe in December 2008...

2010-06-10T20:24:00.002+01:00

WHATEVER Robert Mugabe may want the world to believe, cholera continues to plague Zimbabwe and especially wretched border town Beitbridge.
The United Nations this week said the cholera death toll in Zimbabwe had risen from 792 to 978 - though many suspect the true total could be more than 2,000.
An undercover Metro visit to the chaotic country found harrowing conditions and aid shortages, even as Mugabe was robustly insisting the illness had been cured.
Anyone passing through southern Africa’s busiest border post, at Beitbridge, may find coffins leaking infection, and a mortuary crammed with unclaimed corpses.
Carefree children splash through open, broke sewers, while homes have gone without tapwater for almost a month - prompting thirsty families to down handfuls from poisonous rain-filled ponds.
Dying bodies have been scattered outside over-stuffed hospital wards, attached to IV drips hanging from the branches of trees.
Struggling and sleepless medics in Beitbridge told Metro the disease is now thought likely to spread even more damagingly beyond the current hotspots, especially into under-resourced rural areas.
Some also fear the spillover into neighbouring South Africa - with more than 600 cases reported already - could lead to the border being closed.
This would be disastrous for Zimbabwe, which now relies on imports from South Africa - and to a lesser extent Botswana - for almost all its food, fuel and medical supplies.
For the moment, South African trucks continue to bring the meagre supplies of treated water, antibiotics and purification chemicals so anxiously needed in Beitbridge.
A senior hospital official admitted: ‘We barely even had a button to sell - we had nothing.
‘Without outside aid, this disaster could have been so much worse.’
Despite foreign journalists being banned from Zimbabwe, Metro gained access to Beitbridge’s hospital, where a depleted staff has been working virtually non-stop for the past month.
The ramshackle wards may be protected by handwashers and decontamination sprays at every entrance and exit.
But the rusty metal hangers from which drips connect to twisted and helpless patients, lying malnourished on hard-backed beds, hardly inspire confidence.
Nor does the makeshift treatment camp just outside the hospital walls, where mothers and babies slump under 30-degree sunshine, reluctant to force down their medicine.
Similar scenes can be found in outlying villages such as Lumamba and Chamungangana, though the hospital’s grimy stone walls are replaced by canvas tents propped up by wooden poles.
These places feel eerily quiet and deserted, with few signs of life outside the field hospital tents or cramped clinics.
Incomprehending and glazed eyes stare up from each bed, young children, young men and women laid low by an illness that can kill within just a few hours of the first symptoms showing.
Pastor Moffat Ndhlovu, of Beitbridge’s World Pentecostal Evangelical Church, recalls with horror the hospital struggling to cope with the first outbreak last month.
He said: ‘When I walked into that place - well, I’ve never seen such humiliation in my life.
‘You’d find one woman lying here naked, and a man naked lying next to her. One would be vomiting, flowing into the next.
‘Others patients’ diarrhoea was flowing into the people next to them. There were so many lying so close because there weren’t enough beds, not even enough space.
‘Doctors ended up taking some of the victims outside - hanging drips from the branches of trees.
‘It got so berserk, they had to close the hospital to anyone who didn’t have cholera.’
‘Oh, it’s been a tough time,’ sighed an assistant at Beitbridge’s hospital morgue, while swinging open three fridge doors to reveal 18 corpses.
Some had lain there unclaimed for at least three weeks, their addresses and families unknown - and local government unwilling or unable to fund any inquiries.
When admissions were highest at the end of last month, the morgue was taking up to 20 new bodies every day.
About ten corpses have been discovered and brought in from dense and desolate bushland outside the town.
Mr Ndhlovu said: ‘Before cholera, I’d go for months without having to conduct a funeral - now it’s five or six a week.
‘There are so many now, every pastor here’s been so busy.’
Some funerals have only added to the danger, with a shortage of body-bags allowing infection to escape at the open-coffin funerals popular with some communities here.
The busy bus terminqals, serving key routes out of town, may also have helped spread infection - as might the thriving sex trade on Beitbridge’s outskirts.
But as Mr Ndhlovu emphasised: ‘The conditions for cholera are endemic in Beitbridge - the lay-out is badly planned, the weather is so humid, it’s dusty and it’s dirty.’
His home in Beitbridge, like many others, has been denied running water for the past month.
While Metro were visting, there were cries of delight when the kitchen taps suddenly began flowing again.
But the smiles quickly turned to frowns of disgust as bottles filled with a brownish gloop - fit only for use in toilets.
‘And this is supposed to be treated water,’ a neighbour remarked. ‘I wouldn’t have liked to see what it looked like beforehand.’
Little wonder the hospital official declares: ‘I can go to any cholera outbreak in the world after this, knowing I can’t see anything worse.’
And little wonder Mr Ndhlovu concedes: ‘We don’t presume the crisis is over. The worst could be still to come.
‘The truth is, the health system in Zimbabwe has completely collapsed.’

*** HUMAN rights activists are being spied upon and even abducted, while elderly grandfathers beaten up and threatened with a bullet live in fear of their lives.
If some had hoped Robert Mugabe was slightly mellowing, during truce talks with oppostion leaders, recent events suggest the Zimbabwe president remains as ruthless as ever.
Much of the country’s infrastructure and public services may be in meltdown.
But Mugabe can still call upon a loyal cadre of well-paid acolytes - eager to keep enforcing a ferocious crackdown on dissent.
Campaigner Jestina Mukoko is the most high-profile of almost two dozen government critics recently abducted by Mugabe’s men.
And while the president was publicly mourning government colleague Elliot Manyika, few ordinary Zimbabweans believe the official explanation of the national political commissar’s death.
Manyika had appeared to be at the centre of bitter Zanu-PF infighting, just weeks before his death in a car accident on Saturday last week.
Many people were surprised to hear that in a country with so few working medics, a government doctor was passing just ten minutes later to take care of Manyika’s body.
Conflicting times of death were later given by state authorities, while the government Mercedes in which he was being driven appears to have gone missing.
Of course, any suspicions have not been aired on tightly-controlled state media - only on South African TV channels, broadcast through the satellite dishes Mugabe wants to ban.
One in five Zimbabweans are believed to be paid informers for the ruling Zanu-PF party - including many posing as activist church pastors.
Police officers are mounting more and more roadblocks, some to enforce state control and some to replace missing wages with braz enly-sought bribes.
Even elderly grandfathers are not immune from being brutally beaten and intimidated by Zanu-PF thugs.
Bernard Haruvishe was abducted from his home, repeatedly punched, and dumped half a kilometre from his home - with a bullet left ominously in his hand.
The 66-year-old’s crime was to stand as a Movement for Democratic Change candidate, in local elections in Maswingo - and beat his Zanu-PF rival.
When his dead-of-night attackers - eleven rifle-wielding soldiers - handed over the bullet, they promised to return some day to finish him off.
But Mr Haruvishe has continued to stand up to his oppressors - collecting not only the names of others attacked, but also those suspected of carrying out the violence.
His lists also catalogue crops destroyed, as well as property, maize and livestock stolen.
The former teacher said: ‘Of course I was scared. But I refused to give the soldiers the names they wanted.
‘I just told them I’m an elected councillor - I won my election. I didn’t force people to vote for me.
‘Not only my grandchildren, but everyone of school age in Zimbabwe - they’re being lost. I can’t see how they’ll ever recover from what Mugabe is doing to this country.
‘I don’t know when Mugabe will go. But I wish it could be today.’
Neighbour Andrew Maziye Sithole, 70, has been beaten up twice, with sticks ma de of cane and matted with thorns.
But he refuses to quit as an MDC official or to stop speaking out against the Mugabe regime’s human rights abuses.
Mr Sithole, who has scars and welts across his neck, back and arms, said: ‘We sleep in fear of being “disappeared”, captured and killed by the Mugabe people.
‘This area has become very dangerous - even the local tribal chief has been giving commands to beat and kill any critics.
‘But even as they were beating me, I told them I wouldn’t resign as an MDC official. I saved my true heart.’
The father-of-18 and grandfather-of-eight added: ‘Zimbabwe is a country with a heart of gold - but the teeth of Mugabe.
‘He’s killing innocent people. Every day they’re dying. Only when he leaves will we see the sun rise.’
But father-of-two Mike Tizirai, 30, fears there will be ‘fighting and burnings’ over Christmas, as people rebel against the bleak midwinter conditions.
He spent three months hiding in mountains immediately after the June election, leaving his children with his Zanu-supporting parents-in-law.
‘They saved my children’s lives,’ he concedes. ‘We just don’t discuss politics.’
Zimbabwe Christian Alliance pastor Wilson Mugabe - no relation, as he has to keep insisting - takes pride in pointing out Zanu-PF plants in church meetings.
He h as been arrested several times for inciting opposition to the government, in his sermons and speeches.
Activist church pastors like himself have often had their phones tapped, prayer sessions infiltrated - and described in detail in anonymous calls - and families threatened.
But Wilson keeps on campaigning, saying: ‘I only become bolder. I want to argue with these people, expose them in meetings.’
Once he was dumped, wearing only shorts and a blindfold, high in the mountains above Masvingo - forced to wander 10km for help and direction.
His uncle Bruno Mugabe was a Zanu-PF supporter - but even he fell foul of the party, when attempting to stand against a favoured candidate.
Bruno was killed by a hired mercenary, injected with poison while driving and dying when the car careered off the road.
Wilson turned down the chance to become an MDC candidate in Masvingo this year - but is considering standing if fresh elections are forced next year.

*** GORDON Brown has been told to keep quiet about Robert Mugabe – by one of the Zimbabwe dictator’s most outspoken critics.
Condemning Mugabe from outside Zimbabwe is counter-productive and only falls into the tyrant’s trap, Wellington Chibhebhe told Metro.
Instead, he demanded, Britain and the US should be putting pressure on those countries allowing Mugabe to stay in power – such as South Africa and China.
Mr Chibhebhe has himself paid a heavy price for opposing Mugabe – at least 20 arrests, and beatings which have left him with a fractured skull, disfigured fingers, a metal plate in his arm.
He is secretary-general of the Zimbabwean Congress of Trade Unions, the successor to Morgan Tsvangirai – who now leads opposition party Movement for Democratic Change.
Despite his organisation’s close ties to the MDC, Mr Chibhebhe accuses some party insiders of losing touch with their grass-roots support – and feels ‘no hope’ that Mugabe can be ousted any time soon.
But he believes attacks on Mugabe by British ministers only gives the president what he wants – allowing him to ‘play the race card’, while indulging in ‘eloquence and acrobatics’.
Mr Brown and foreign secretary David Miliband have both recently called for Mugabe to go.
The Zimbabwean president retaliated last week by accusing Britain of planning to invade – while his Zanu-PF party colleagues have even blamed the UK for the cholera plaguing the country.
Mr Chibhebhe insists Mugabe does not hate, and instead ‘loves’ Britain – especially the Queen and Harrods – but feels shunned by Zimbabwe’s former imperial ruler.
Mr Chibhebhe said: ‘Whoever’s seen to be anti the regime here now is automatically labeled “British”.
‘But this all comes not from Mugabe’s hatred for the British, but his love for the British – he just feels neglected by the country.
‘He’s described himself as the biggest admirer of the queen, and Harrods records show he was one of their best customers.
‘Even if he was traveling to somewhere like China, he’d go through London to do his shopping.
‘Gordon Brown is now making political statements condemning Mugabe, but they may actually be arming him instead.
‘He’s able to use these statements to rally his colleagues around him – suggesting this is Africa being attacked by whites.
‘These attacks just bring the best out of Mugabe, in all his eloquence and verbal acrobatics, and his view will resonate with most African leaders because they’re dictators too, and see him as their leader.
‘The world, including Britain, needs to use other forms of pressure instead.’
He wants similar moves to those which helped topple Ian Smith, Rhodesia’s last white prime minister before Mugabe took power in 1980 and changed the country’s name to Zimbabwe.
Mr Chibhebhe said: ‘South Africa must be pressured – and the world must allow start thinking about how to deal with the likes of China, who have business links in Zimbabwe and always veto sanctions.
‘Pressure was brought to bear on South Africa when they were doing business with Ian Smith – when they stopped, his world started collapsing around him .
‘Now Namibia is one of Mugabe’s lifelines, but the UK doesn’t seem to be doing anything to end its own trade links with Namibia.’
But he is pleased to see British ministers do all they can to avoid one-on-one meetings with Mugabe – even if Jack Straw was manouevred into an unwelcome handshake four years ago.
Unrelated Wilson Mugabe, a vocal Christian activist and opponent of the regime, clapped and cheered when he heard the president was talking of a British invasion.
He was only disappointed when told the claims were probably untrue, insisting a British military offensive would be welcomed by most Zimbabweans.
Mr Chibhebhe is not so hawkish, knowing how intransigent Mugabe and his allies can be – knowing from his own experience that ‘it’s harder to fight an ex-guerilla government than a normal one’.
His personal struggles have borne this out, with about 20 arrests – the most recent on December 3, when detained for protesting against limits on cash withdrawals.
His worst beating came two years ago, leaving him unconscious for two days while held in the notorious Matapi prison in Harare – in filthy cells condemned by the country’s supreme court.
‘I only came to my senses when lawyers were finally allowed to visit and bring some initial medication after two days,’ he recalled.
‘You get used to living in very, very difficult conditions, surrounded by human waste.’
But he insists he will not abandon his risky role opposing the government – fuelled partly by a sense of guilt at his youthful involvement in Mugabe’s 1980 breakthrough.
‘Giving up has never crossed my mind – not at all,’ he claimed.
‘If anything, I’m more persuaded to continue.
‘I was born and bred in the rural areas, participating in the liberation struggle. We were the youngsters responsible for the logistics.
‘Prior to independence, our fathers and mothers – who had relatively nothing in resources – they gave their all as a contribution to the struggle.
‘When I go back and see how they’re suffering and being so abused now, it greatly pains me.
‘And it keeps me going, hoping that one day our people will finally be free – and able to say: “Yes, what we’re fighting for has finally been achieved.”
‘We wanted to bring about independence, democracy and the accompanying freedoms for people.
‘Yes, we’re now independent, but people are not free and therefore there’s no democracy.’
He believes Zimbabwe’s ruined economy could be turned around by redistributing money from the military and security services to health and education instead.
‘More often than not, the military has got the biggest chunk of the budget, even though we’re not at war,’ Mr Chibhebhe said.
But first Zimbabwe needs to resolve the issue of ‘governance’ – putting in place a credible process for free and fair elections, monitored by the international community.
‘The current power-sharing negotiations are dealing with issues of power – who gets what jobs – rather than issues of democracy and people’s freedoms,’ he said.
‘When you look at the political game being played, we’re falling into the same old trap.’
He attacked MDC insiders who were spreading doubts at Mr Tsvangirai’s leadership, especially the taunts that he spends too much time outside Zimbabwe.
Mr Chibhebhe said: ‘Morgan Tsvangirai’s doing the right thing, because we need the global support.
‘We’ve heard the insinuations that he’s not the best leader for the process, but when you look around for leadership when it matters most, quite a good number are nowhere to be found.’
He admits he has ‘no hope’ of Mugabe being overthrown in 2009, however, even if cholera has proved an ‘unexpected disaster’ for the government to deal with.
But he added: ‘We are excited – though suspicious – that for the first time, Mubage has been quoted publicly as saying his people should be preparing for elections within one and a half to two years.
‘He now knows this situation will never come to an end until or unless there’s an election.
‘On the other hand, we’re fearful he could go the other way – say “To hell with any deal”, or go all out on an even more terrible offensive – more abductions and torture, with the aim of totally disintegrating the MDC.’

*** ROBERT Mugabe’s critics are praying for Zimbabwe’s banks to finally, completely crash – and that day may not be far off.
Mugabe’s government may still be trying to apply emergency fixes to the country’s crazy economy – such as the introduction of new notes and cash withdrawal limits.
But even the invention of a finely-crafted $500million note – made from material worth an extravagant eight US dollars – looks like doing little.
After all, that will shortly be the price for just one loaf of bread – if you can find any left on the stripped-bare shop shelves, that is.
At the start of last week, when Metro first arrived in Zimbabwe, a loaf cost $10million, hitting $20million the next and $100million last weekend.
Annual inflation now runs at an estimated 231million per cent.
And the amount of Zimbabwean dollars in the money supply has rocketed from $45billion two years ago to more than $900quadrillion today.
No wonder ordinary Zimbabweans, paid in local dollars, are desperate to get their hands on more valuable foreign currency, or ‘forex’ – primarily American dollars or South African rand.
Until last September, these foreign currencies were formally banned, but are now accepted by virtually all traders – though many workers now find themselves paid in kind instead.
Yet dealing in ‘forex’ outside the banks remains illegal.
Hordes of currency-dealers – many of them young women, some with babies strapped round their backs – still congregate in central Bulawayo, anxious for business, though.
Some try to disguise their true purpose by flourishing lottery tickets or mobile phone ‘Airtime’ vouchers – though others shamelessly count, indeed flaunt, their wads of cash.
Not surprisingly, scams are common – often dealers will use the old trick of stuffing fake cash inside a couple of genuine notes at either end of a pile.
Long queues outside every bank begin forming the afternoon before 8am opening.
The banks only stay open until 11.30am, and often even those who have been waiting for hours will not be able to reach the front door until closing-time has passed – or all that day’s money has run out.
Fractious scenes could be seen at several branches, with bank officials either absent or reluctant to risk their own safety by stepping in.
Outside a branch of Barclays, customers were trying to allocate numbers to those waiting, so they could return home overnight and resume their rightful place the next morning.
But these arrangements seemed doomed to fail, especially with early-morning intruders commonplace – again, bank officials will usually find something else to occupy themselves instead of interfering.
Few people can remember just how many zeroes have been lopped off the Zimbabwean dollar – is it six, nine, ten, 13?
In fact, 13 have gone since 2006 – with rule-changes almost as frequent as the exchange rate changes that must keep all Zimbabweans’ calculating minds constantly whirring over.
Last Friday’s queues were waiting for their first chance to get their hands on new $200million and $500million notes – and to access a new weekly withdrawal limit worth $500million, rather than $100million.
That is, about $12.50 in US money – unheard-of amounts of money for many, in a country where the average wage across the countryside amounts to about one US dollar per week.
Those new $500million dollar notes are made from an unusual cotton material, supposedly to encourage consumers and traders to value the money more.
But with prices continuing to soar – and the country dependent for food and fuel on neighbouring South Africa and Botswana – that feels like little more than a futile hope.
Starving 72-year-old Emily Nkomo scrimped together a handful of cash for a 2 0km walk to her nearest miller’s store in the town of Nkayi – only to be told, on arrival, the notes were all worthless.
Even more worthless than most Zimbabwean dollars, that is – for these carried dates, showing they expired last June.
Mrs Nkomo, raising five orphaned grandchildren, had to beg among neighbours for a measly bag containing a couple of scoops of barley grain – enough to just about survive on for two days at most.
Part of that miller’s warehouse is shared by church project ZOE, but their section devoted to food aid supplies now stands empty – a victim of raising prices and falling availability.
Shops stand virtually empty by 9am – except for some products such as bottles of red and white wine, with Zimbabweans unab le to even afford drowning their sorrows.
Yet some instinct towards basic survival survives, both among individuals and the country itself.
Gold and chrome mines near the – relatively - affluent city of Gweru remain in action, close to the former ranch of white prime minister Ian Smith – the man overthrown by Mugabe in 1980.
Agape Missions church pastor Lyton Moyo admitted: ‘At times, you do wonder how people make it. What they earn, and the cost of living, just don’t tally.’
Some have family or friends sending packages from South Africa or Botswana – hence the fears about that would happen if the cholera outbreak in Beitbridge leads to the nearby South African border being closed.
Others survive on church hand-outs, though these are diminishing by the day – or the work of aid agencies such as Tearfund, or the World Food Programme which estimates 5million people are in need.
An estimated 90 per cent of the population are now unemployed, especially noticeable in public services as schools and hospitals shut down for lack of staff.
Teachers who earned $40million a month are quitting in droves, some in favour of positions as maids – who earn slightly more. Enough to pay for a loaf of bread, anyway.
For now, at least – as hyper-inflation wrecks day-to-day financial planning, as well as efforts by aid organisations to help.
The Churches In Bulawayo charity was alarmed, when buying some helpful sewerage equipment, to see their quote rise from US$13 per unit, to US$65 – in just 24 hours.
They decided it would be cheaper to buy the same kit from Botswana instead, even factoring in transport costs and import duties.
Christmas promises to be miserable indeed – but Zimbabwe’s very bleakness encourages some to believe 2009 can only be better, if utter chaos finally tips Mugabe out of office.
One leading human rights activist told Metro: ‘I’m excited about the new year. I feel the change is about to come. We’ve just about reached rock bottom.
‘Look at it all - first the schools closed, and then the universities, and they won’t reopen.
‘Hospitals are now shutting down, one by one.
‘Police officers are only surviving on the bribes they take at roadblocks, which is why there are so many on the roads now - they’ll just ask straight out, “What have you got for me?”, without bothering to search your car.
‘In fact, the only thing now - I just pray for the banks collapse.
For one day, the bankers to decide they’ll stay at home from now on. And then, when there’s no money at all, that really will be the end.’

*** FAMINE in Zimbabwe has become so severe, starving families have been feeding on the skin of a cow - slaughtered six years ago.
One man has died since starting to eat the hide, which had been used as a grime-ridden rug in a village near Bulawayo.
Children as young as two have also been eating the skin, in an area not only hit by starvation and cholera fears - but also a cattle anthrax outbreak.
They have also been eating potentially poisonous creeper plants, after failing to get hold of even the most basic supplies of grain.
During an undercover Metro visit to the chaotic country, sick villagers explained how hyper-inflation, drought and widespread food and seed shortages were forcing them into dangerous and desperate measures.
Grandmother-of-seven Ellinah, 66, said: ‘Since the summer, we’ve had no harvest.
‘People used to help by giving us food, but everything’s dried up now.
‘We had nothing to do but eat the unthinkable.
‘Our ancestors used to keep the skin of their beasts, in case of drought or famine.
‘We just didn’t know what else we could eat anymore. Whatever we can get our hands on these days, that goes down.’
One of her sons, 43-year-old Dumisan, died a fortnight ago, leaving three children.
His relatives insist he was killed by hunger, rather than by eating the cow-skin - though admit all feeling unwell, including fortnight-long bouts of diarrhoea.
The hide has been sliced around the edges and boiled in salted water for the past three months, shared by families living in several neighbouring mudhuts.
Two separate shreds still remain - though church aid workers have been trying to persuade the villagers to give them up.
The creeper plants are more often used by poor Zimbabwean families in crushed form, as shampoo.
Church group Zimbabwe Orphans through Extended hands (ZOE) has a warehouse in the nearby town of Nkayi - but it now stands empty.
Tearfund-backed ZOE workers have seen a feeding programme for 35,000 families rise in costs from £1million this year to £2million next year.
They now struggle to get hold of food and fuel in a country which now depends largely for supplies on expensive imports from South Africa and Botswana.
The World Food Programme estimates 5million Zimbabweans are in danger of starvation, in a country where many families must survive on earnings worth one US dollar per week.

*** HUNGER and deprivation may be sapping the strength, but not the spirit to go on, of starving families across Zimbabwe.
Some 35,000 families around Bulawayo look like missing out on much-needed supplies because Tearfund’s partner agency ZOE’s food aid programme has seen costs soar from £1million to £2million next year.
That kind of plight is replicated across the country, as hyper-inflation, corruption and harvest failures deny people access to help.
Gideon Chishamba’s church on the outskirts of Bulawayo cares for 69 children left orphaned by Aids, though he suspects many more are living in the area without support.
His church has had to cut, since September, their daily food hand-outs for the orphans – switching instead to weekly deliveries only.
Their partners in Harare were unable to afford – or get hold of – enough food anymore.
‘It was difficult to make that decision,’ Mr Chishamba said, with some under-statement.
The youngest orphan they support is a two-and-a-half-year-old boy, whose mother died eight months after giving birth and who is now brought up by his grandmother.
If grandparents are being forced to stay somehow younger than their years, by quasi-parental duties, then youths are having to mature unusually early.
Benevolence Mlotshua patiently, impassively scrubs his family’s rags in a foaming pail when visitors arrive at the isolated shack they tend in the village of Gumtree, near Bulawayo.
His seven-year-old sister Sinikiwe is even gloomier, barely raising even the glimmer of a smile, any signs of live-spirit at all, while trying her best to keep covered a protruding bellybutton that alarmingly resembles an old man’s hernia.
Benevolence, 19, comes across as authentically distraught – and disappointed in himself, somehow – to have left school at 13, following his builder father’s death from TB.
He has held down jobs, briefly, in gardening and carpentry, while his mother Sifisompofu takes ‘piece-work’ farming other people’s fields – whenever available.
Somehow this family of six – two other siblings have gone looking for better prospects in South Africa – survive on earnings worth about one US dollar per week.
That means only porridge for breakfast and sometimes supper too – or, occasionally, sadza, a foul-sounding concoction of thickened maize and boiled water.
‘I’d like to back to school and study carpentry or building,’ Benevolence said.
‘But at the moment, the priority is food – and whatever we can get’.
He does, however, express touching sadness at his sister being unable to buy herself a new dress – perhaps that might have perked her up a little. Perhaps.
‘Life’s tough right now,’ he added.
‘But we mustn’t just sit on our hands. We must try to find jobs.’
While traipsing towards their spartan, grimy mudhut, local pastor Lyton Moyo had mournfully noted: ‘To live in Zimbabwe at this hour, we need more than the grace of God.’
His church, Agape Missions, supports more than 100 families, however they can, but he admitted: ‘At times, you do wonder how people make it. What they earn, and the cost of living, just don’t tally.’
The chances of improvement in the New Year look dim – although there were patchy downpours that afternoon, the so-called rainy season as a whole has been extremely arid instead.
Not only is little likely to flourish in such scrubbed conditions, but hardly any seed has been planted anyway due to high prices and widespread shortages – not to mention corruption within local grain marketing boards, which control supply.
The large grain silos looming bulkily over Bulawayo have been almost entirely empty for most of the season, only occasionally taking delivery of enough to fill a single truck.
January, February and March are meant to be the growing months , but April looks set to bring the onset of an even more devastating famine than current conditions.
Mr Moyo said: ‘It’s very dry. In the normal season at this time, there should’ve been a lot of rain by now, but it’s been all dryness – and the most vulnerable people will suffer.
‘These starving families will ask our volunteers to scratch around for anything to help, but often they’re struggling to find food themselves.
‘I’ve taken food from my home, vegetables from my garden.
‘But we’ve not really had any food for hand-outs for the past three or four months.
‘The World Food Programme says they’re offering aid to 4million vulnerable people – but this doesn’t seem to be happening.
‘Cases which we think are deserving – which we know are deserving – are missing out.
‘People may not be dying directly as a result. But the people who are ill already are not surviving. Starvation is speeding up the process of dying.’
Even when volunteers do stop by with aid, they can often find no one at home – the inhabitants instead out and about, some hunting, some desperately searching for work or food.
Instead of real currency – whether the worthless Zimbabwe dollar, the US dollar, or South African rand – many farmers are paying employees in kind, with perhaps 2kg bags of maize.
Mr Moyo confesses to feeling ‘helpless, hopeless’, as he ponders the likelihood of families like Benevolence’s next tucking into boiled pumpkin leaves.
‘It’s very difficult to refer to “the nation”,’ he added.
‘We have no leadership at the moment. We’re in very, very bad books with the international community.
‘People talk about problems in Zimbabwe – above all, these are problems that hit hardest in the family, in the home.
‘When you want to sleep, and there’s no blanket.
‘When you want to cook, and there’s no food.
‘When you want to send your child to school, and you’ve no money for the fees or they’ve all closed down.
‘In Zimbabwe, you’re much more worse off in the home than in the street.’ *

*** ‘HE’S a devil, a devil. He’s killing people. He’s killing his own people.’
Grace Nyamayaro has no doubt Robert Mugabe has the blood on his hands of millions of Zimbabweans – including her husband and her son.
She shares an age – 84 – with the Zimbabwean dictator, but little else.
While Mugabe enjoys living in a 25-bedroom palace, within 44-acre grounds, she starves in her Bulawayo home, somehow summoning up just enough strength to raise her two orphaned grandchildren.
One of those, six-year-old granddaughter Tanyarandzwa, has been HIV+ since birth and needs regular visits to hospital.
On those occasions, Mrs Nyamayaro has no option but to carry the girl on her shoulders and make the 40km round trip on foot.
Quite a task for even the healthiest of young men, let alone a frail old lady often forced to go without even the most basic food, due to hyper-inflation, crop failures and shop shortages.
Yet she not only manages it at least fortnightly, she comes dynamically alive when asked who she blames for her – and her country’s – miserable plight.
8 0The president, he’s a devil,’ she rasped.
‘We’re struggling all the time he remains. He’s not doing anything.
‘I’m not going to vote, I’m so bitter about him.
‘My husband was killed by his men, and so was my son.’
She lost both these loved ones about five years ago, not long after Tanyarandzwa was born to parents who died within days of each other.
Her husband Jonnas was an anti-ZANU PF activist arrested by police and detained in prison.
He died mysteriously in his cell, something Grace only discovered when abruptly told to come in and identify his body.
Her son Douglas has not actually been confirmed dead – but is one of Zimbabwe’s ‘disappeared’ – missing, suspected abducted and murdered.
‘I don’t even know where my own son’s grave is,’ Mrs Nyamayaro wept.
‘I’ve tried everywhere to get answers – or compensation – but they just push me from city to city, office to office.
‘That’s why I really feel now that the president must step down.
‘He must somehow leave his post because of the trouble he’s caused, particularly here.
‘I’ve lived a miserable life. People are suffering. He20has failed.’
This is an opinion not only shared by more and more ordinary Zimbabweans – but voiced by them too, confident or reckless enough to state their views despite ever-present intimidation and threats.
Clearly those who do speak out put themselves at excruciating risk – as the recent kidnap of missing activist Jestina Mukoko has highlighted, along with the scars and bruises shown Metro by union leader Wellington Chibhebhe and persecuted grandfathers Bernard Haruzivishe and Andrew Maziye Sithole.
But still Bernard and Andrew are too proud not to keep battling their Zanu-PF oppressors – and too human not to whoop with delight even when simply discussing the day Mugabe finally leaves office.
Grace cannot punch, or leap into, the air the way those two gentlemen insist they will do, but her physical durability in the face of such relentless hardship is incredible still.
The name Tanyarandzwa translates as ‘We have been consoled’, though the youngster’s sombre expression shows just how little solace there is in her life.
And in one poignant moment, committed Christian Mrs Nyamayaro admitted: ‘I blame God. All things used to be okay – but now they’re not.
‘I also blame the government – we used to receive some help, but no more.’
She has to survive most days on a meagre evening meal, often simply a bowl of porridge – made from small bags of ‘mealie-meal’, or maize, scrimped from neighbours or church volunteers.
Most of the sparse food she does possess have come from another son, who splits what food he gets hold of between her and his own immediate family.
The same dish gets served up in the mornings, but for Tanyarandzwa only – not for her grandmother or her 12-year-old brother Tinashe.
‘It’s so she can take her medication,’ said Grace, referring to the anti-retroviral drugs to treat Tanyaranzwa’s HIV – and which it took four lengthy hospital visits to eventually secure.
‘The doctors say she should be eating well when she takes them, to try to keep her strength up.
‘But she still cries a lot during the day, out of hunger.
‘I have to ask her to be quiet because there’s really virtually nothing I can do about it. It hurts, because I’m so helpless.
‘It’s very difficult for me to be knocking on the neighbours’ doors for food.’

Afghanistan in November 2008...

2008-12-21T20:47:00.007Z

*** THE TALIBAN had been talked into a ten-day ceasefire across one stretch of desert, allowing farmers to collect their crops without being bombed or shot at.
This pact was a breakthrough for British and Afghan forces at the nearest, lonely 'patrol base' just south of the volatile Afghan town Musa Qala.
But their 1 RIFLES comrades just a few miles to the north were not so fortunate – suffering two British casualties in just a matter of days.

The two injured men were both rushed by helicopter to the main hospital at Camp Bastion, then flown home to England.
The northern patrol base's Captain Richard Ham, 28 and from Chippenham in Wiltshire, said: 'It's been a bit of a tough week – but that's the job.
'It doesn't matter how good you are, sometimes unfortunately you end up taking casualties.
'Morale is still fine. We all sat down and had a chat – to learn if there were any lessons about what to change in the future, but also so I can have a look at everyone and how they're coping.
'Check there's no one left sitting alone in a corner.
'It is difficult. This has put a bit of stress on us, but they realise there's nothing they can do about it.
'They have a job to do and we're going to crack on in the typical British Army way.'
Military leaders here insist they have progressed during the past year, both liberating Musa Qala from enemy control then driving bands of Taliban into increasingly remote hideaways.
Many of the enemy fighters remain elusive – scuttling incessantly between refuges, in between opportunistic and devil-may-care attacks with mines or ancient rifles.
'They're losing 99 out of 100 battles,' claimed 33-year-old Captain Richard Keane, from Londonderry in Northern Ireland, second-in-command in Musa Qala.
The remnants of the Taliban platoons, look to be struggling for support and for cash – hence the growing reliance on illegal poppy trading and taxing.
But they can still pose a danger, whether in 'firefights' between troops or the so-called 'night letters' posted on locals' front doors, threatening murder – sometimes carrying out these vows, often killing respected community figures, to 'send out a message'.
Rifleman Josh Carpenter, 18 and from Yeovil, said: 'The battles there are don't last very long – the Taliban tend to just shoot, then disappear.
'I was nervous at first, but then I came out here and got used to the routine.'
The southern patrol base occasionally finds itself spattered by a sniper, about 500 metres away – though without any men being caught in the crossfire.
The harvest truce with the Taliban came after complaints that local farmers would be unable to collect wheat and maize harvests in a 600m stretch between Coalition and Taliban positions.
The patrol base's Captain James McCarthy, 27 and from Newton Abbot in Devon, said: 'The ceasefire did make it slightly easier going, at such an important time.
'The corn has been 7ft high here, making it a regular Green Zone, and luckily the locals have been able to benefit from it – the ceasefire has held for a few days longer than just the ten.'
The Afghan landscapes make this a dramatic setting for the British troops, pleased to have left behind the featureless desert expanses of arrival point, Camp Bastion.
'You don't really get this sort of sight in Birmingham or Manchester, that's for sure,' pointed out 33-year-old Sergeant Will Webb, from Exmouth in Devon.
'It's the most beautiful thing I think I've seen,' he added, against a gleaming blue skyline where spiky Mount Musa Qala spears up through the dust, a little hazily as if a desert mirage.
1 RIFLES' main man in Musa Qala, Major Charlie Grist, 33 and from Chepstow, added: 'Afghanistan is beautiful – and 99.9 per cent of the people here are so friendly and delightful.
'And hugely hospitable – despite their own lack of possessions.
'Then there's the less-than-one per cent out there want to make everything miserable.'
Just a few hours after Captain McCarthy's talk of the harvest ceasefire, gunfire and mortar explosions were echoing across the desert again, the Taliban having abruptly decided to get going again.
No Brits were hurt in the exchange of fire, and after 14 thudding blasts, the air turned quiet again – waiting, slowly yet persistently, for a larger, lasting truce.

*** THEY barely had time to begin adjusting to Afghanistan's boot-melting heat and suffocating dust when sent to urgently relieve a stranded town taken by the Taliban.
Their British colleagues, Afghan National Army fighters and many impoverished families had to be airlifted supplies before 1 Rifles snipers arriving on the scene could help break the Taliban stranglehold of Nad-e-Ali.
All the while, the S Company men who had only just arrived for their six-month posting were at risk of what they called 'fearsome' rocket or sniper fire from the closest of quarters.
But finally they did make it through, reopening access to the beleaguered Helmand town of Nad-e-Ali and surrounding villages from which farmers and families had fled the Taliban in fear.
Nad-e-Ali had previously been won by the ANA and International Security Assistance Force troops, only for the Taliban to regain control in recent weeks.
The Taliban occupation cut off all major approaches to the town and surrounding villages, isolating an ANA-held base where some British soldiers were also staying.
Several hundred villagers had either been forced to abandon their homes and find desperate shelter in the countryside – or remain stranded within the Taliban's domain.
This raised alarm that vital food and other supplies would be blocked from reaching those in need, while putting regulation ANA patrols at increasing risk of attack.
Enter S-Company, made up of skilled snipers and machine-gun operators – but with ages ranging from late-teens to early-40s.
Their task was to break through Taliban defences, restore access to the area – especially from the strategic base of Lashkar Gah – and restore some sense of 'normality' to Nad-e-Ali.
The sight of farmers returning to their crops, just in time for harvest, and the sound of children on their way back to the region's one school was satisfaction enough at the end of the fortnight-long mission.
But first the men were put through some immensely testing experiences, they recalled while recovering back at Camp Bastion.
Among the most heart-pumping moments were the occasions when British soldier and Taliban insurgent came virtually face-to-face.
The British forces may be eager whenever possible to pursue a 'hearts and minds' approach aimed at engaging with locals, rather than fomenting gratuitous conflict.
But in such circumstances, they insist their only option is to be ruthless – knowing the Taliban are hardly likely to think twice given the chance.
One rifleman, describing his colleague's close-range encounter, said: 'The enemy appeared round the corner, raised his rifle and he had to be shot.
'It's self-defence. They don't usually get that near, obviously, because they're cowards – but in this case, there was nothing else to do.
'Often they will hide in civilian-populated areas, take over farmhouses or homes, because they want us to fire back and kill civilians – but we don't do that.
'But when you're on patrol, they come round a corner and you're looking at each other, a professionally-trained soldier knows what the situation demands.'
More often, the 45-minute enemy bombardments would come from between 200 and 1,000 metres away, often from three separate sides.
The attacks would invariably be met by British under-slung grenade launchers, sniper shots or hand-carried machine guns.
Captain Ellis said: 'The enemy are quite skilled fighters – but they're not very accurate. We're trained professional soldiers, and we responded robustly and neutralised their positions.'
The weight of the weapons needed, along with radio equipment and all other kit, could be a heavy burden aside from the fighting – especially when forced to move forward on foot, in midday temperatures of up to 40 degrees.
But the S-Company men were pleased to be sent into action so early in their recently-begun six-month posting to Afghanistan.
Lance Corporal John Cain, 23 and from Alton in Hampshire, said: 'We just wanted to get involved – that's what I'm here for, to close in on the enemy and do my job.'
Their victorious arrival at the isolated Nad-e-Ali base – after about a week - was certainly welcomed by those forces stationed there.
Captain Andy Ellis, 28 and from Sandhurst and a leading S-Company member, said: 'They weren't in imminent danger of attack, but it was certainly getting more dangerous for them to patrol. We needed to restore control.'
The operation involved about 35 Brits on the ground, 80 ANA troops and 40 members of the Afghan National Police.
While both Afghan units suffered 'a couple' of casualties with 'minor wounds', Captain Ellis said there were no injuries among the Isaf forces – and was unable to estimate the Taliban dead.
Throughout their time in Nad-e-Ali, the troops were unable to contact family and friends back home because no phone lines or email systems were available.
Sgt Ashton, 33 and from Tewkesbury, acknowledged his wife and two children would be worrying about his safety, but while missing them he insisted he was not finding life away from home too distressing – yet.
'We've been here just seven weeks and not got to that stage so far,' he said.
'For them, though, I know it's just six months of waiting.
'They can try to get on with their lives but in the back of their minds, they're always going to be worrying “Is he okay?” and “Where is he now?”
'In Nad-e-Ali we couldn't get on the phones at all, to reassure them. You just have to hold on until you're back to some static base and make a call to say “Sorry about that.”'
Captain Ellis added: 'Perhaps it's harder for our families – we've still always got a team of friends around us at all times.'
But the men here were keen to send one more message home – urging the British public to keep the faith, albeit patiently.
An Army-commissioned poll last March suggested only 41 per cent of Brits agreed with the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, though 87 per cent backed the troops.
Captain Ellis said: 'The public support is great. We get sent so many parcels – too many, apparently.
'And there's no greater feeling back home than to have someone pat you on the back in the pub and say, “Well done”.
'I think people back home need to realise we're going to be in Afghanistan for a long haul.
'It's not an in-and-out job -we're here to ensure that the Afghan people get their country back to some sort of normality, and we're also here to ensure they can do it by themselves.'
Sgt Ashton added: 'For us now, we're just waiting for the next job to call – wherever our Afghan battalion goes, we will too. We're always packed and ready to go.'

*** THE BOY aged ten was still alive – just about – after taking a Taliban bullet to the head when the Chinook swooped down and paramedics scrambled out.
But despite the best, swiftest efforts of the British crews sent to attend the bloody scene on the fringes of Afghanistan's Helmand Province, they could not quite save him.
En route to hospital back at Camp Bastion, the Afghan boy died from the wounds inflicted by insurgents in Sangin – his bemused father by his makeshift bedside.
'The dad was overwhelmed by it all – partly just from being in a helicopter for the first time,' recalled helper Lance Corporal Mathew Davies.
They are certainly imperious in both appearance and equipment, the British Chinooks based at Bastion but on call to aid any casualties, at any moment and of any nationality, across Helmand province.
But equally vital are the British medical experts employed upon these military air ambulances, having just faced perhaps their busiest summer since arrival in Afghanistan.
These incident response teams (IRT) comprise not only a paramedic, a doctor and a nurse for every call-out, but also one of two support units constantly on call.
Often these back-up protection officers will be queueing in the cookhouse when rushed out on duty, aiming to meet an unofficial target of rescuing a casualty and transferring them to hospital within an hour.
Among the toughest experiences are incidents like last weekend's in Sangin, where they were faced by the agonising loss of the ten-year-old's life.
Lance Corp Davies, 30 and from Taunton, said: 'We never really know the details of exactly what's happened, but it can be upsetting enough to see the results.
'You just have to stay calm and do what's needed. But the toughest ones to deal with are injured children, or your own men.
'The ten-year-old had a bullet wound in his head. Sadly there was no way he was going to survive.
'Picking up the children can be among the toughest things about the job.'
Lance Corporal Lee Wilson, 24 and from Shrewsbury, added: 'Now and then we come across one of our own blokes – touch wood, not too often. You don't want to be seeing too many of them.'
Flight Sergeant Gavin Carr, a 31-year-old paramedic from Bedlington in Northumberland, insisted most casualties taken on-board survived the journey to hospital.
'We don't tend to lose too many in the air,' he said.
The 100ftx60ft aircraft, offering 30ft of cabin space, generally has room for four stretchers and several more walking wounded.
However, Flt Sgt Carr promised: 'We'll try to take as many as we possibly can, as many as we can fit in.'
'It's similar in here to an NHS air ambulance, but obviously the kit has to be that bit more robust – to cope with extreme heat or extreme cold.'
He estimated they had been called to treat and pick up 180 casualties in August, and more than 100 in September – with at least two or three flights each day.
'This has been one of our busiest periods – perhaps the busiest summer seen so far,' he added.
Each Chinook on call-out is invariably covered by an Apache, among the Army's most advanced and expensive pieces of kit – and the helicopter recent reports suggest Prince Harry now wants to train to fly.

*** THE TALIBAN'S so-called 'holy war' is becoming more and more reliant upon – and complicated by – drugs.
Helmand province, now the focal point of British operations in Afghanistan, used to be among the most prosperous and stable regions of the country.
But nowadays the most thriving – while toxic – business is not the old silk trade that used to wind along the lush and fertile banks of the Helmand river.
Instead, the area is in thrall to the farming of poppy seed – and its conversion into heroin and opium, ruthlessly exploited by local drugs barons and, increasingly, the Taliban.
Despite any anti-drug strictures contained in the Koran, Taliban chiefs are well aware narcotics offer invaluable fund-raising potential – and power over impoverished local farmers, in a land where the average wage is $26 per month.
1 Rifles' Captain Dave Owen said: 'There was some talk of the Taliban stamping down on poppy-farming in their areas.
'But that's not happening – they realise they need it. They're becoming more a criminal force than religious.
'They tax poppy-farming – they need the money.
'They'll tax anything – they now tax electricity, claiming they're the ones providing it to places like Musa Qal'eh.'
Helmand province's governor Gulab Mangul appears determined to end the dependence on poppy-farming, winning widespread acclaim as 'a good man' from British military and government officials.
He has kickstarted a programme of donating free wheat seed, fertiliser and technical advice to farmers – backed by £4million in British aid, from a total pot for Afghanistan of £150million each year.
Now he is issuing an ultimatum – anyone caught still growing poppy instead of wheat face having their crops eradicated.
Capt Owen acknowledged: 'There's always been a debate about whether to eradicate or not.'
A possible pitfall is that 'a price may be paid in blood,' he said.
That is, many farmers are not paid by drug overlords for the poppy they have produced – but future harvests.
The promise of ready money in advance can be too tempting for some to resist, especially since droughts and rising global food prices have made day-to-day survival even tougher out here.
Afghanistan is thought to be the fifth poorest country in the world.
According to Whitehall officials, 12 per cent economic growth every year for the next two decades would still only bring Afghanistan level with the current wealth of Bangladesh.
The destruction of an entire crop, then, would leave some Afghan farmers not only without a livelihood – but also facing vengeance from local crime lords who seldom drop a grudge.
But British officials are optimistic about Afghan farmers realising the benefits of dropping the poppy and turning to less risky crops such as wheat or pomegranate.
The Department for International Development says guaranteed buyers are being found for farmers producing legitimate harvests.
And they say the number of poppy-free provinces has grown from six, to 13, to a current tally of 18 out of 32 – while poppy production in Helmand has apparently 'stabilised' now, after 'spiking' a year ago.
Any destruction of crops – or of the laboraties converting poppy into heroin or opium - would be carried out by the Afghan National Army rather than any British officers, DfID was also eager to insist.

*** THEY can rush headlong into landmines instead of running away or phone the Taliban with challenges of duels the next day.
They may be fighting on the same side, but the fearless – even reckless – fighting approach of the Afghan National Army can set English eyes popping here in hellish Helmand Province.
But while some Allied forces – British, American and others – are suspicious of the native 'warriors', those troops tasked to 'mentor' the ANA tell a very different tale.
Not for nothing are the 3/205 Brigade of the ANA, based at Camp Bastion, known locally as 'the hero brigade'.
Members of the 1 Rifles brigade, sent out to Afghanistan for a six-month posting starting in September, are the latest to take on responsibility for mentoring the ANA.
Giving the local forces the capability and the credibility to maintain stability in Afghanistan is seen as perhaps the most significant contribution Britain can now make.
This may take several more years to come to fruition, but the Rifles here insist it can be done – despite recent claims that Army top brass were now playing down or writing off the prospect of an Allied 'win'.
British commander Brigadier Mark Carleton-Smith suggested in October the Allies were possibly 'not going to win this war' and may need to 'talk about a political settlement'.
But the hard-grafting Operational Mentor and Liaison Teams – known here as 'Omlets' – aim to 'reinforce the conditions for the defeat of the insurgency'.
To get there, they intend to have the ANA performing 'tolerably well' – not perfect, that is, nor a major military superpower.
But 'tolerably well' would represent a huge improvement on the old Afghan forces.
The Afghan military may have resisted the British in the 19th century and the Soviets in the 1980s but have been plagued by corruption and cruelty.
Some of those now serving in the ANA either battled as part of the 'mujahadeen' resisting Soviet invasion, or supporting it.
Both the robust - and canny - instincts built up over years, even decades, of conflict still look strong, impressing their British mentors – some of whom as young as 18 themselves, winning plaudits for their own maturity and courage.
Captain Roy Jones, 40 and from Thetford, Norfolk, has just returned from an operation in Nad-e-Ali, where the ANA and Rifles had to airlift supplies and salvage a stranded base.
He believes many Allied troops under-estimate the Afghans, when they should be full of admiration – even if some of the methods still surprise.
He said: 'They come from a completely different cultural lifestyle to us – and that can be disorienting at first.
'We're talking about people who often can't read or write, and come from such poor, almost Biblical backgrounds.
'Any instructions over 20 minutes, and you've lost them. But they've got this terrific spirit – very righteous, in a way.
'They may not like driving a truck or cooking a scoff at night, but put the Taliban in front of them and they turn into Tasmanian devils.
'It's our job to rein them in a bit – at some point they've got to just stop killing enemy forces. We call it “herding cats”.
Where British troops patrol for landmines by cautiously identifying risks, seeing through drills and sometimes awaiting helicopter support, the Afghans will invariably sprint in, hacking the mine away.
This tactic may speed up proceedings – but the rate of survival unscathed is a mere four times out of five, according to Omlet chief Major Ben Tomkins.
Arduous though these British six-month postings undoubtedly are, many of the Afghan recruits have been unable to return home at all since joining the newly-formed ANA three years ago.
They certainly see at least their fair share of casualties, too.
Across Helmand province, Omlets have suffered two deaths and 27 injuries since April, while 42 ANA soldiers have died and 112 been wounded.
Then again, the Omlet forces have comprised 350 troops, compared to the ANA's 4,000.
The Afghans lack the body armour, arms and polished routines of their British counterparts – though more equipment is on its way, including compasses, mine detectors and MI6 grenade launchers to replace their treasured, but outdated, AK-47s.
But the local forces do possess the intelligence skills, experience and cultural awareness no one else can emulate, according to Maj Tomkins.
He recalled: 'Recently they shot a suicide bomber at 100 metres.
'A British soldier would never have the confidence to shoot at someone from such a distance, in a marketplace like that.
'But the Afghans were convinced – they'd seen this suicide bomber, dressed as a woman, and could tell his feet looked wrong, and he wasn't wearing his burqa quite right.'
Of course, their style can try the patience or set nerves jangling, too.
Sergeant Major Chris McLennan, 33 and from Margate, said: 'It can worry you a bit, when the Afghans are calling out the Taliban on the phone, telling them: “We'll meet you tomorrow at twelve for a battle.”
'They'll be taunting the Taliban as “infidels”, or insulting their mothers – basically trying to pick a fight with them.
'One of the most senior insurgents in Garmsir was arrested and he was found that night in the officers' mess, drinking chai and dancing to music because he was a senior man.
'But they don't hold much regard for the lower soldiers of the Taliban.'
No one need have any fears about the ANA's loyalties these days, though, Maj Jones insisted.
Their interpreters, too, are risking their lives or the disapproval of their families and communities to serve the Allies.
Major Steve White, 36, from Dunfermline, said: 'One of our “terps” told me his parents didn't know what he was doing – because if they did, they'd try to stop him straight away.
'I asked whether that wouldn't make it even tougher for them, if something did happen to him and they hadn't felt prepared at all.
'But he had the old “Inshallah” attitude they all seem to have to life and death - “whatever's God's will”.'
But Lance Corporal Dave Abbott, 29, from Bury St Edmunds, pointed out: 'They're all for us not getting hurt.'The chief beside me on drills wouldn't let me in front of him. It was like, it's their war, they want to crack on, and we're there to aid them if we can.'
Maj Jones added: 'These guys despise the Taliban – they hate them more than we do. Their families have been oppressed, or killed, by the Taliban – and they want them out.
'Our role is to show them we're here for the long haul to support them.
'When you've got such close contact with the Afghans you realise this isn't a mission that can be achieved overnight – but there is real progress we can make together.'

*** THEY crowd around chick flicks, grab the glossy fashion magazines and monopolise the moisturers.
But that’s enough about the men.
Being a woman at war here in Afghanistan means occasionally feeling a little out of place.
‘It’s a man’s life in the British Army’ may be long gone as a slogan.
Crucial roles are being played by female medics, education and communications staff.
Simple numbers, though, show how easy it can be for a woman to potentially feel isolated when surrounded by men in the infantry.
Not only do they form a tiny minority – sometimes someone may be the only woman at a base, surrounded by hordes of men, and hence seen as something of a novelty.
Some of these 1 RIFLES soldiers’ behaviour might come as slightly surprising, though, for those expecting relentlessly macho ‘Action Man’ stereotypes.
‘They’re always watching chick flicks or soap operas,’ revealed Captain Emily Peers, one of six women based at Musa Qal’eh in northern Helmand province.‘
And some of the boys use more toiletries, more moisturisers than the girls.
Royal Navy medical officer Lieutenant Julie Martyn added: ‘They also sneak a few looks at our girls’ magazines.
‘In fact, you could probably go to some of them for some pretty good fashion advice.’
Not that the modern military here has become a bastion of ‘political correctness gone mad’, mind.
Witness, for example, the pin-up posters and calendars on the walls, or the admiring murmurs whenever a woman appears on the communal TV – from haircare advert model to ageing actress.
But the quick camaraderie that invariably flourishes here ensures the only battle is with the Taliban, not between the sexes.
Of course, a few rules of engagement have to be laid down first.
Lt Martyn, 35 and from Rushden in Northamptonshire, said: ‘I’ve made myself a sign: “Female having a shower – go away!”’
Corporal Zoe Edwards has spent the past two-and-a-half months shuttling between Helmand bases, often as the only woman present and with no segregated facilities.
‘The boys just had to learn to stand well away when it was my turn in the shower,’ said the 25-year-old intelligence officer from Oswestry.
‘Often, though, it’s the boys who are bothered by it more than the girls.
‘I turned my back on them washing when I was cleaning my teeth – and they all just scarpered. You couldn’t see them for dust.’
But early awkwardness aside, the relationship becomes mutually beneficial – beyond the medics’ aid for battlefield injuries or ‘the normal coughs, D and Vs [diarrhoea and vomiting’ or “man-flu”.’
In a cramped camp, soldiers appreciate different company – and voices – to ease the stresses of recent violence, injured friends or simple boredom.
Corp Edwards said: ‘Some of them haven’t seen a girl for several months.‘They’re not trying to be sleazy – it’s just nice for them to speak to a girl.
‘Often they’ll want to keep talking all through the night, because they haven’t had female contact, female conversation, for so long.
‘Even just hearing a girl’s voice over the radio makes for a refreshing change.
‘And once you get to know them, you really become part of the family.
‘It was particularly tough for me in Kajaki, as the only woman there, faced by all these Paras, who hadn’t seen a female for ages.
‘I went into the cookhouse for my first mealtime and could feel them all, just staring at me.
‘I got my dinner down as fast as I could, and ran away.
‘But within a week I was going in there and having them all call over, “Come and sit with us, Zoe.”’
The female staff can not only be cheered by the welcome, and ‘banter’ –‘If you can’t cope with banter, you couldn’t be in this job,’ according to Lt Martyn.
They also feel reassured when part of drills, patrols or tours of surrounding areas, especially around Musa Qal’eh where the atmosphere remains fraught due to lurking Taliban threats.
‘Going on patrol, everyone’s very protective – “Be careful, be careful”,’ said 26-year-old Capt Peers, from Hereford and currently attached to Musa Qal’eh’s Gurkha regiment.
‘Some women might get a bit funny about that, thinking “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself."
‘But this is my first operational tour and some of these guys are on their second or third or more, with so much experience and expertise and equipment. I appreciate any guidance.
‘I’m not too worried, generally, though – family back home tend to feel frightened more, thinking the worst.’
The dusty, grime-ridden grey-brown concrete camp does provide basic comforts – though Lt Martin described them as ‘the most basic I’ve known’.
‘You certainly miss hot water a lot of the time,’ said leading medical assistant Sally Rutley, 26, from Gosport in Hampshire.
She at least appreciates the regular contact provided with her fireman husband, just six months into their marriage after she spent four years at sea with the Navy.
Occasional treats are prized all the more.
Capt Peers said: ‘The currency for boys is cigarettes – for girls, it’s chocolate. There was a lot of excitement the other day when someone got hold of some Maltesers.’
And Corp Edwards, proud to keep in contact with her make-up and ear-rings, insisted: ‘You have to still be a bit girlie when you can.
‘I filed my nails the other day, for the first time in a while – and it felt so nice.’
Friendly and fulfilling companionship, in these lonely and testing times, can be crucial for military men and women alike.
‘It’s not until you get to sit down and have a conversation with a couple of girls that you realise how much you’ve missed it,’ Lt Martyn admitted.
‘All that’s missing is a good bottle of wine.’

*** LUCOZADE gel-guzzling mice, a blase lump of a cat watching over them, and a hot dog with a difference.
Little things like these can take on a little significance as British troops battle one of their most niggling enemies out here: boredom.
When not on patrol, either on foot or armoured vehicles, long stretches of the day can spread out slowly before soldiers, some of whom are on their first foreign tour with the Army.
Some have brought MP3 players, either to be used with headphones or broadcast to all – prompting good-natured taunts about musical tastes, any hint of ‘country and western’ a dangerous area.
Piles of glossy magazines provide both distraction and raunchy wallpaper for campbed-rooms shared by two or three men at a time.
Oh, and a few mice.
One particularly troublesome rodent has had 23-year-old Marine Adam Stokes bemoaning his bad luck, after burrowing its way into some of his supplies, at the main Musa Qala camp.
‘He’s munched his way through my Toblerone,’ revealed Mne Stokes, from Exmouth in Devon.
‘And he’s eaten all my white chocolate, which I like – but left all the orange creams, which I don’t. How did he know?’
It sounds like a case for ‘Jonesy’, a bulky ginger cat who struts the main base along with what may well be his more slender offspring.
In the living quarters, constant requests for ‘brews’ – rounds of tea and coffee – are made and met, sometimes accompanied by sweets sent by family and friends.
There are occasional complaints about the food provided in the cookhouses – though more often for lack of variety than quality.
Those working in smaller teams in the more remote patrol bases believe they eat better, cooking for themselves.
Lieutenant Chris Lawton, 27 and from Sheringham in Norfolk, told with pride of how his team had just made an oven from two ammunition tins, and were happily baking their own bread.
Sometimes they will be offered naan bread and chai tea by their new friends and colleagues in the Afghan National Army.
And back at larger bases like 1 RIFLES’ ‘Shorabak’ enclave at Camp Bastion, or at Lashkar Gah, the teams in charge of cooking take pride in providing the best and most varied they can.
Sometimes, however, the experimentation can leave a rather strange taste in the mouth – for example, a combination of blueberry muffin and sausage.
Other diversion may come from declaring a moustache-growing competition, producing a range from what can look like top-lip slivers of milk to dashing Flashman-esque swooshes.
Most of the youngest Rifleman, some just 18, opt not to join in, however – either unable to quite come up with the goods, or cowed by officials’ demands that everyone shave daily.
Premier League football – or rugby, if the Welsh and Fijiians of the Queen’s Dragoon Guards have their way – is on almost-constant rotation in the TV tent.
And Tottenham fan Sergeant Lee Jones, from the Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire, even offered Army shirts in return for the battalion’s Afghan interpreters ceremonially burning their Arsenal tops.
But most significant in keeping up morale are perhaps the regular calls home to parents, wives or partners, and children – to many, cherished nightly or weekly rituals.
Lance Corporal Mark Campbell, 34 and from Chepstow, only rejoined the Army recently, after the age limit was lifted from 26 to 33 – having spent a year signed up as a teenager.
He finishing training for 1 RIFLES last December, and now finds himself on his first operational tour – having spent the past 12 years working in transport around Heathrow.
He said: ‘I knew what I was signing up for, when I rejoined the Army – I know the risks, but this is a better life for us as a family.
‘My son Matthew’s 13 now and I wanted to be able to put him into a decent secondary school at his age, which the Army pay now allows me to do.
‘He knows what I’m up to. He’s not really at the stage where’s he worried – he’s a typical 13-year-old boy, more concerned at times about going out with his mates and playing football.
‘But we talk regularly. My wife Michelle – of course, she’s worried. But she knows what it’s about.’

Sierra Leone in September 2008...

2008-12-21T20:36:00.011Z

Smiling and serene Hannah Alpha deftly works her sewing machine, fresh out of school and looking without a care in the world.
Hard to believe that just a few years ago she was a drug-crazed, laughing killer – before even becoming a teenager.
Hannah was one of the child soldiers not only affected by, but thrust into battle during the West African country’s 11-year civil war.
Britain’s eventual intervention in the gruesome conflict remains, unlike Iraq or Afghanistan, a Tony Blair military adventure generally approved by consensus.
And the likes of Hannah – survivors, though still scarred both physically and emotionally – are grateful for the progress brought by peace.
Prosperity, by contrast, may still be a distant dream – aid volunteers here express mild pride about the year Sierra Leone rose a place in the United Nations’ Human Development Index.
That is, off rock bottom.
But no amount of UN peacekeeping troops or pledges of Western – or, increasingly, Chinese – investment can quite cleanse Hannah’s mind of those horrific memories.
Above all, she is haunted by the day she found himself gunning down a wailing elderly woman in a neighbouring village.
Like many child soldiers – some as young as six – Hannah had been doped up on cocaine by her kidnappers, rebel militia backed by neighbouring Liberia and plotting to overthrow the Sierra Leonean government.
Some, like Hannah, were force-fed the drug – others had the powder smeared into freshly-cut wounds stretched across their faces.
Hannah, now 18 but only 11 at the time, said: ‘When I was on the drug, I just didn’t see people as human beings any more – they were more like just chickens running around.
‘I shot an old woman in her hut – as she was struggling, fighting to stay alive or to die, I was just laughing. I thought it was just a joke.’
Often the rebel fighters – led by wedding photographer-turned-guerilla Foday Sankoh – would force the captives to kill their own relatives.
The rampaging troops, backed in return for diamonds by Liberian dictator Charles Taylor, burnt down villages, decapitated tribal chiefs, raped women and looted homes.
Hannah’s parents were slaughtered by rebels who stormed the key district of Kailahun, the area where the war had first erupted in 1991.
The eastern region is perhaps Sierra Leone’s most remote and forbidding, with ditches and rough terrain substituting for roads through dense, swampy jungle.
But its position just miles from borders with Guinea and Liberia offered Revolutionary United Front fighters handy bases from which to stir up support and launch ambushes.
Hannah recalled: ‘Both my parents were captured and killed.
‘I was left to drift between different relatives until the rebels came to take me away.
‘I was only about ten but they used to gang-rape me, and threatened to do away with me if I didn’t join them.
‘For about three years I was bearing a gun, a rifle.’
She was part of frequent raids on villages in the east of the country, looting for food and ammunition – and occasionally compelled to kill.
An awkward peace was finally reached in January 2002, partly thanks to the arrival of up to 16,000 UN peacekeepers – including 400 Britons, patrolling the capital Freetown.
But a nation-wide programme called DDR – disarmament, demobilization and reintegration – concentrated mainly on adult ex-fighters, ignoring many of the estimated 23,000 child soldiers and sex slaves.
The Red Cross, both in Britain and Sierra Leone, has been keen to set up Child Advocacy and Rehabilitation (CAR) centres across the country for 14 to 18-year-olds.
These offer literacy lessons, training and apprenticeships, and counselling – as well as continuing support for older adults.
Hannah has been one of the beneficiaries – but only having suffered several more traumatic years, even after peace was declared.
With no home or family to which she could return, she drifted into prostitution with friends desperate for any way to scrape a living.
Only a chance meeting with a long-time family friend introduced her to the CAR centre in the town of Kailahun – one of four the Red Cross runs, with plans for a fifth.
Tailoring lessons have given Hannah a new skills – and new hope for a future career.
Her wartime trauma still lingers – and one of the rapes left her with a baby daughter later seized from her and still missing.
Many of the teenage women enjoying cookery, carpentry, dancing or dress-making sessions with the Red Cross are accompanied by their own young ‘bush-babies’, the products of rape.
Youngsters who were attacked or saw their own relatives murdered in the war now find themselves mingling with those, like Hannah, who actually carried out killings.
But she insisted: ‘I try not to think about the things that happened, or the things I’ve done.
‘I was afraid for a while that a few people who were victims might see me now and be angry.
‘The woman I killed was from just a few villages away.
‘I think about her still sometimes – especially when I’m alone.
‘But at least I now have good work, which is helping me survive. I’m very, very happy about that.
‘The change in attitude and the skills I’ve learned – these are the two things in life that now please me most.’

Sierra Leoneans refer to their country’s bloody 11-year civil war using a creole word, ‘palava’.
If that sounds slightly comical and under-stated to English ears, then survivors’ reminiscences of coming under attack are anything but.
For all the confidently-expressed hopes for future peace, few were left untouched by the conflict and remain wounded physically, emotionally or both.
Victor Lahai still has seared across the back of his right calf the scar left by former friends who turned violently on their own village.
His crime was to refuse their demand he join their band of rebels and help carry looted food, guns and ammunition.
Among the group confronting him were former play-mates with whom he had grown up in the village of Nianoiahun, close to the border with volatile Liberia.
Victor, 24 now but 16 at the time, said: ‘I think the fact they knew me meant they decided not to kill me when I was captured.
‘But when I kept refusing to carry their luggage – or to join up with them, fighting the battle – they said they couldn’t let me go the way they’d found me. ‘That’s when they lay me on the ground and shot off the back of my leg.’
His brothers had earlier urged him to flee to dense surrounding bushland, when the militia first threatened their homes.
Now it was those brothers who came to his aid, the first to find him and carry him to a makeshift hospital.
He spent the rest of the war recuperating in a refuge camp at Gondama, one of several set up across the country to deal with some of the 2million people forced out of their homes.
About 75,000 Sierra Leoneans are thought to have died in the conflict.
Some of those who survived now tell their tales of brave defiance, relying on both luck and judgment to somehow escape with their lives.
John A Koroma, a chief in the southern village of Ngeyawamie, knew the RUF attackers had his name on a hitlist of those to be killed.
But when confronted when fleeing to the bush, he claimed his first name was not John, but Joseph.
Koroma is one of the most popular surnames in Sierra Leone – shared, for example, but current president Ernestr Bai and the RUF-sympathising ex-presuident Major General Johnny Paul.
John Koroma’s ruse worked – the 55-year-old remembered: ‘It was different to the name they had written down – so they let me go.’
Others were not so fortunate – shot or stabbed to death, amputated at the wrists or gang-raped.
Katimu Martin saw her father shot dead, five neighbouring homes burnt down and four people have their hands chopped off when the RUF occupied the southern village of Jombohun.
But she says she dodged a similar fate by daringly shoving aside a gun pointed at her.
The 40-year-old said: ‘My younger brother had urged me not to go outside because there were rebel forces all around.
‘But I didn’t listen. I came out, trying to rush around the house and towards the bush – but they followed me.
‘One of them cocked his gun, ready to fire.
‘I was sure I was about to die – but God gave a different answer. I managed to push the gun away and take the chance to run away.’
Like many escapees, she had to survive in Sierra Leone’s dense, swampy bushland – building vulnerable mudhuts, feeding on yams.
Others in the eastern region made it across the border to sanctuary in Guinea.

The bush provided a precarious safe haven for many of those who escaped RUF punishment.
Now it offers their best chance of survival in peacetime – the subsistence farming that accounts for much of Sierra Leoneans’ meager profits and nutrition.
Despite promises of technology and investment from abroad – increasingly, inevitably, China – agriculture still contributes an estimated 52.5 per cent of national income.
The country’s rich diamond resources may generate immense wealth – but largely for illegal smugglers or the foreign firms buying up mining land but paying native employees pitiful wages.
A cup of rice can sell at market for about 800 Leones, a measly 15p.
Yet this is more than double the price charged at the end of the war – and remains a considerable sum for villagers in a land where the average earning is less than a pound per day.
Red Cross activists estimate that in the southern district of Pujehun, about 50 per cent of children are malnourished.
Katimu Martin, 40, in the Pujehun village of Jombohun, said: ‘We’re no longer angry – just hungry.’
Red Cross projects are helping towns and villages – many left in ruins after rebel attacks – to slowly improve their sanitation, housing and farming prospects.
Gifts of seeds, help running micro-credit schemes and collective funds for emergencies and future harvests are offered by the charity’s Community Animation and Peace Support (CAPS) volunteers.
But rice harvests, integral to the local economy, remains vulnerable, especially during the summer rainy seasons and in the absence of adequate storage.
Sturdy homes, working wells and functioning toilets are also in short supply.
Nyanda Albert, a community leader in southern Ngeyawamie, said: ‘The priority here is a proper seed store.
‘We’ve been using a farmhouse but last year thieves came and easily made away with all the rice.
‘Another season the rains were particularly bad and destroyed all the rice we’d gathered.’
Other key produce includes palm oil, cassava, peanuts and laundry soap.
John A Koroma, chairman of Ngeyawamie’s village council, hopes all 12 of his children will complete their schooling but always remember, ‘whether they go off somewhere else or come back here: ‘agriculture is the backbone of this country’.
He added: ‘No agriculture, no food – so get used to it, I always tell them.
‘Even if you’re sitting in an office, one day you’ll come back home and realise – it’s all agriculture.’
As he said that, the villagers were already trooping out for another long day.
On foot, with tillers, planters and hoes in hand, cooking and storage pots balanced expertly on heads, babies wrapped tight in scarves around backs – back to the bush.

Kailahun is said to be where Sierra Leone’s civil war started – and where, 11 years later, it ended.
But despite six years of peace, the damaging legacy of war still looms over this desolate and poverty-ridden region.
With borders to both Liberia and Guinea, towns and villages in this eastern district were used as key entry points by rebel bands.
Revolutionary United Front forces were not only stirred up, but trained in return for diamonds by Liberian dictator Charles Taylor – now facing war crimes charges at The Hague.
Sierra Leone’s ruling All People’s Congress party was widely accused of corruption, but rival parties were repulsed by many of the RUF’s violent tactics – which included gang-rape, amputation and murder.
The rebels’ first ambushes were carried out in Kailahun district on March 23, 1991, ushering in 11 years of violence, instability and coups.
Ismail Foday, a senior tribal chief in Kailahun, said: ‘We still call it a senseless war – these rebels kept fighting, even when the original government was overthrown.
‘Our young boys are still suffering now – and I still don’t know why they got embroiled.
‘The rebels used to force cocaine into wounds on their face, pasting it into plasters, and turning these boys into bad men.
‘If told to go and tamper with their own mothers, they would do it.
‘But even after the war finally ended, there were very little help for them – many didn’t take the six-month demobilization period very seriously.
‘And those children returning from were left neglected and desperate.
‘We had gangs of thieves running rampant, and teenage prostitutes everywhere – girls on sale at 1,000 Leones (19p) for five minutes.
‘It was extremely difficult for us to control such behaviour.’
The arrival of the Red Cross and its Child Advocacy and Rehabilitation (CAR) centre in Kailahun has at least offered 150 children each year much-needed assistance.
They attend daily for literacy and numeracy classes, training in trades such as cookery, carpentry and tailoring, plus intensive trauma counselling.
Some of these pupils are former child soldiers – attending alongside others whose relatives were murdered by rebel invaders, or young girls who were raped.
Current pupil Lamin Brima, 18, still finds it difficult to forget or to forgive.
He vividly remembers the day his father, a town chief, was publicly executed after having his name called by RUF soldiers in Kailahun.
He himself managed to flee safely to Liberia, but now attends CAR clases alongside youngsters he knows may well have carried out rebel atrocities.
‘I know some of them now – when I see them it’s difficult not to feel angry again, because of the attacks they committed.’
Two-thirds of youths in Sierra Leone are thought to be unemployed, while persistent government corruption and the growing involvement of Latin American drug cartels also cause concern.
Mr Foday acknowledged: ‘This area is one deeply-populated by people drastically affected by the war.
‘But every time I now go to the CAR centre, I feel so much happier for Kailahun and its future.’

Tony Blair and Britain are seen as a significantly mixed blessing in the eyes of Sierra Leoneans.

Gratitude for the UK-dominated UN incursion that finally defeated and disarmed rebel militia is tempered by dismay at the perceived lateness of their arrival.

And a fellow-feeling based on historic national ties with Sierra Leone’s former colonial rulers is soured by misgivings about the abruptness of Britain’s withdrawal in 1961.

Sierra Leone’s renowned educational bases – including a university where Mr Blair’s father used to teach – won the country a reputation as ‘the Athens of Africa’.

But the disruption and devastation caused by the 11-year civil war ruined the country’s already-declining economy and infrastructure.

A UN-led force of 6,000 peacekeepers finally arrived in late 1999, eight years after fighting began – soon rising to 11,000 and 13,000.

An earlier collection of Nigerian-led ECOMOG troops had enjoyed only limited success against rebel forces trained and supported by Liberian president Charles Taylor.

The UN peacekeepers successfully claimed back occupied regions and disarmed Revolutionary United Force fighters in 2001, with peace declared in January 2002.

But Sierra Leone Red Cross co-ordinator Victor Fornah said: ‘Britain’s intervention was seen by many as too little, too late.

‘And there was certainly disappointment that efforts were only led in the first place by a small country like Nigeria.

‘But of course, overall, the move was welcomed – Britain had to mend some bridges, and did.’

He suggested Britain should have given more prominence to local leaders before handing Sierra Leone its independence in 1961 – then left more support in place, rather than remaining aloof.

President Siaka Stevens, who served from 1967 to 1985, was widely accused of human rights abuses such as rigging elections, corruption, suppressing independent media and executing political rivals.

But Mr Fornah added: ‘Sierra Leoneans feel especially pleased and reassured by the Queen’s promise that if any future coups are threatened, a British back-up force will be ready for action within 72 hours.’

And wartime survivor Katimu Martin revealed: ‘I only started getting over my fear of the war starting over again when I would see foreigners coming into our country.

‘They’re helping us and interacting – they’re interested in us.

‘It shows where we’re getting to, with the help of charities like the Red Cross – with that, we’re pretty sure there will no longer be war, just peace.’

Mr Blair visited Sierra Leone several times – and the second city, Bo, now boasts a school named the Tony Blair International Academy, which opened last month.

The former prime minister already had a family connection to the country – his father Leo used to lecture at the capital Freetown’s Fourah Bay College.

The university, founded in 1827, is the oldest in West Africa and a major influence in building Sierra Leone’s historic reputation for academic excellence.

English remains the country’s official language, used in schools and on radio – Sierra Leone’s most popular form of media.

But most of the population speak variations of Krio, a creole language containing shreds of recognisable English – the most commonly-used greeting is not ‘How are you?’, but ‘Ow di bohdi?’

2007-07-24T02:05:00.000+01:00

Nice shades, happy Harry.

Let's just draw a few more over this whole dreary thing here, eh...

Off the ground, la-la la-la la-la-la...

2007-06-05T23:50:00.001+01:00

Oh, Mike McGuire, you foolish fool of a fool - this sounds just about the best way to make being inside a Starbucks anywhere, anyway approaching bearable. (How is it people can complain when a newspaper ups its cover price by two, even five English pennies, yet blithely hand over a couple of quid for a mere coffee...?)

Anyway, as my final word on the album and to celebrate this union of Macca and mocca, I hope no one minds (*cough* hello? is this thing on?) if I pour these out of my system here and now:
Latte It Be, Love Me Brew, Espresso Darling, Cafe On The Left Bank, "Nescafe, all my troubles seemed so far away", Maxwell House's Silver Hammer, Gold Blend Slumbers, "We're so sorry, Uncle Douwe Egberts", I Feel (Caf)f(e)ine, Americano Buy Me Love, The Lungo And Winding Road...

Okay, okay, that'll do. I knew I should have opted for the decaff earlier.

"The love that you take..."

2007-05-29T22:33:00.001+01:00

"At the end of the end,
It's the start of a journey to a much better place,
And this wasn't bad
So a much better place
Would have to be special,
No need to be sad..."

Paul Is Dead? Never, of course.
Neither physically, from 1966 when he "blew his mind out in a car" - an alleged accident that the remaining Beatles, like almost-master-criminals, couldn't help but keep on alluding to in clues in subsequent cover art, ruining any cover-up.

Nor symbolically, even ever since that elusive moment in 1970 when he took it upon himself to break up The Beatles (or, that is, took upon himself the blame for breaking up The Beatles), and ever thus doomed himself to years of sneering - either at the hands and bitter tongue (early on) of John Lennon himself, or much more dully those aggressively assuming that John was the tough'n'talented one, Paul the cute'n'soppy sentimentalist, utterly ignoring his avant-garde experimentalism and imaginative drive to keep the Fab Four flying even as John and Cyn, or then John and Yoko, sunk into Surrey druggy opulence.

(Not that I'm knocking John's genius and achievements at all, either, just keen to emphasise a better balance beyond those all-too-cheap and simple sniggers of "Frog Chorus, anyone?" which ignore the fact it's just a whimsical children's song and, taking or leaving the "Bom-bom-bom" backing, a really rather lovely melody at that.)

But still, still, still: Sir Macca and death, or "death". It's a miserable thought.
And yet one which, in true trouper spirit, he hits head-on on new album, Memory Almost Full.

Every self-respecting (and otherwise-unrespected) newspaper office has a desktop/desk/drawerful of Blue Peter-esque obituaries just ready and raring to roll on the instant of the sad PA snap. But, thankfully, one I've never yet seen is one that will surely be buried, too-formal and forlorn, among the acres and days and apparent-aeons of more gushing outpourings of praise, when he finally goes. If he does. If he must. Must he?

Penultimate album track "End Of The End" suggests, sadly, yes. But still, unsadly, urges mourners to fulfil his dying wishes - for "jokes to be told, and stories of old to be rolled out like carpets", as his piano chords roll out underneath like "Let It Be" and a faintly-rising string section ventures decorously so far, and yet not too far.
Only good ol' Sir Macca Thumbsaloft, eh...?

James Paul McCartney, turning 65, kids and grandkids and wife and another wife, starting to ponder mortality but gracefully not giving up, as elsewhere he skitters sometimes chirpily and sometimes ruefully over those oh-so-many mini-memories packed tight into that apparently-almost-full entireity: the "at the scout camp, in the school play, spade and bucket, by the sea" to "sweating cobwebs, under contract, in the cellar, on TV" of smirking-shrugging-shoulders "That Was Me", for example.

So much McCartney, he can't help but hearken back, whether lyrically or musically to his ever-present past. So what if comics may mock those Wings that could never quite beat quite so big as The Beatles: faux-beloved of Alan Partridge as "only the band The Beatles could have been", and scorned by most rock scribes until recent reassessments, as the authentic Seventies supergroup joins ELO and Supertramp in the iTunes playlists of the Feeling, Fratellis and their followers.

But Macca was ever the most melodic, and indeed influential both on and of such proto-power-poppers. And even when most questing or, actually perhaps, indecisive in his musical approaches - the ramshackle thrashing of Back To The Egg (1979), beepy noodling of McCartney II (1980), shimmery, synthesised pairing with 10cc's Eric Stewart on Press To Play (1987) or bittersweet bolshiness semi-fuelled by Elvis Costello for Flowers In The Dirt (1989) - there are at least flickers, or often enough belting flashes, of his it-all-comes-too-easy instinct for a tune, the tune.

The same enough goes even for his underwhelming 1990s, when each new album would be devoured - here at least - and the most sumptuous tracks would soon stand out: the tremors of somehow-neglected 1976-vintage "Warm And Beautiful" in skeletally-gorgeous 1993 album track "Golden Earth Girl", or the rolling, mostly-instrumental "Heather" (who she?) from 2001's otherwise-muddy Driving Rain, or either one or other or both of Jude-esque "Beautiful Night" or Blackbird-y "Calico Skies" from four-years-previously's too-blandly-bluesy Flaming Pie. In support of both of which albums he did, of course, hit the world for six sixes in the shape of his heartstring-bludgeoning live shows (Earls Court can seldom before, nor since, have felt so stridently the centre of God's greenish earth.)

Even the four originals included among the rock'n'roll curios recorded, all-in-a-quick-week's-work, for Run Devil Run, happily married modernish-enough production standards with casual raucousness with Wingsy pop nous-and-a-half: "Try Not To Cry", for example, could have been a companion-piece, standalone single around the time of 1973's undoubted-masterpiece Band On The Run - or at least giving "Daytime Nighttime Suffering" a damn good run for the "Helen Wheels" B-side placing. Do bands produce such dazzling B, even C-sides anymore? (Physical irrelevance of the format aside, of course...)

And yet Memory Almost Full feels, while the listener indulges, like he's doing it all over again, plucking here and there from his ever-present past yet spinning them a little more, older, wiser, anew. And sombrely, too. It was a surprise to discover a new Macca album, quite so soon - less than two years - after the last, 2005's sombre but superb Chaos And Creation In The Backyard: that late-period epic, forcibly pared down by erstwhile Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich despite the rather over-arching power and prestige of the richest man in rock music.

Especially since there seems to have been a little turbulence in our hero's domestic life since then - you may have gathered from a column inch or several thousand here or there.

Yet out of such chaos comes yet more creation, perhaps indeed inspiring such wistful ponderings as the aforesaid "That Was Me", or "Vintage Clothes" (both part of an Abbey Road-esque five-song suite in the second half), or indeed the portentous weirdness of "House Of Wax", a dark trundling tour around a nightmare.

Checking off the old-Macca nods would be easy, and yet too easy and restricting: "Mister Bellamy", for example, has the whimsical fun and what-the-fu...n?-ness of "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey" right up until you really realise it's about a man threatening to throw himself from the top of a tall, tall building, while opener - and bright, breezy, yet probably not Top Ten-troubling single - "Dance Tonight" is 1993's "Hope Of Deliverance" all over again but even more gossamer-light and lovely (and, yes, the only one I've managed to master strumming so far.)

"Paul is quite a capable lyricist who doesn't think he is," said John, in the intriguing and expansive Playboy interviews not long before his death in 1980. Lennon had been especially taken by "The movement you need is on your shoulder" as McCartney rushed through an early demo of "Hey Jude", pressing for the line to remain there intact despite Paul's apologies. And while post-Beatle Macca has at times been sullied by such atrocities "I know I was a crazy fool, for treating you the way I did, / But something got a hold of me, and I acted like a dustbin lid" ("The Other Me", from 1982's Pipes Of Peace), Godrich had the wherewithal to insist two years ago that McCartney, yes even McCartney, ditch the more slapdash lines and come back with something better - resulting in both economy and occasional sly wittiness ("very twee, very me", in 2005's irresistible "English Tea").

Despite a change of producer this time, back to David Kahne of the too-often-dreary Driving Rain, such spareness seems to have survived - and in a positive, even or especially when emotionally-negative, way.Yes, there are awkward moments - signs that the ever-assured McCartney vocal is starting to crack a little under the strain of ageing, faltering on the falsettos of "You Tell Me" or a little too clumsy on the lower registers of over-glossed "Ever Present Past".

And while it might feel a little too over-wraught to end with "End Of The End", the bathetic minute-and-a-half of Macca-stompalong-by-numbers "Nod Your Head" follows in the clumpy and unsatisfying footsteps of "Rinse The Raindrops" (Driving Rain), "Party" (Run Devil Run) or the untitled "hidden" track dragging down the elegiac "Anyway" (Chaos and Creation...) Whatever happened to the closing grace of "Warm and Beautiful" or "Baby's Request", let alone a cheeky undercutting a la *cough* "Her Majesty"...?

Ah, these are minor matters against the, er, majesty of Macca revitalised. Time alone, of course, will tell whether this, and companion-piece Chaos And Creation... will quite endure like Band On The Run and Tug Of War or Flowers In The Dirt - let alone like Rubber Soul or Revolver or some sergeant's obscure album that came out 40 years ago on Friday - but the prospects seem richly promising right now. Certainly that man Macca seems to simply seep quality songwriting, musicianship and inventiveness as easily and freely as water gushing gloriously from a well. And surprisingly superbly so. Even now. Especially now.

Long may he last. To live and not die.

2007-05-07T00:49:00.000+01:00

New directive - five-minute plan: forget livestock, pig iron, all pig iron ...

or, er, consumer electronics.

Instead, increase studio-based cuteness production by record levels.

(By whatever means necessary.

Yes, apparatchiks, even utilise the Teletubbies trope, if need be need be.)

Projected out-turn: world domination inevitable.

Imminent.

Even enjoyable.

2007-04-29T22:56:00.000+01:00

Ah, how better to spend these unseasonably sunshiney early-summer afternoons, than by snatching and stamping daffodils and dandelions, gurgle-sniggering Beavis-style,

and tearing apart the News Review section of the Sunday Times...?

No, not me (well, not mostly), but Harry. (Honest.)

And now, yet another nephew is about to stumble into the scene - long-lost l'il Kim, way out Far East since Boxing Day, but arriving home much-missed (and much more hairily-headed, it seems!) on Monday for what should be a week of much-needed family specialness.

Yep, get those happy feet on the pedals, pal...
Welcome back to dear old Blighty.

"They can see no reasons, 'cos there are no reasons - what reasons do you need...?"

2007-04-17T02:01:00.000+01:00

"Sorry, pal. The law requires a five-day waiting period. We've got to do a background check."

- "Five days? But I'm mad now..."

There are doubtless factors warning against too-simplistically blaming the horrific college carnage in Virginia on American gun-nuttiness alone.

Deep-seated, disturbing psychological issues within the culprit, certainly.

A culture of thoughtless violence crossed by instant gratification, possibly.

A rather ragged mess of a response by police, apparently.

But for now, the expansive savagery of such lethal wherewithal does call to mind the old line suggesting the most sensible method of gun control.

Just the one question on the application forms:

"Do you want to own a gun?"

And if the answer's "Yes", then you're certainly not having one.