I suppose that there's a reason that we don't see the technical awards given out at the Oscars. They're full of technobabble, they're a pale comparison to the awards where you get to see quick shots of Jack Nicholson sitting in the crowd with sunglasses on at six in the evening, and no one cares about them.
Seriously, do you want to hear a guy drone on-and-on about how he figured out how a fish-eye lens works? Here we have the third-place game of the World Cup and you'd think that at least there should be some build-up to this.
One of the two teams is going home knowing that, in terms of the competition, anyway, they're third-best in the world. That can't be that bad, truly. Sadly, the banner that should be displayed beside the score and clock on the TV screen is not the CBC logo, but the words "Oh, to be Spain or Holland."
It seemed to get worse for Germany coming into it, with Klose out with a back injury, so denied a place in the match that would allow him the goals to get top scoring spot in the World Cup ahead of Ronaldo (the fat one, not the jerk one). With him being 32, he may still have a World Cup in him, but those goals will have to be waning. It will be possible, but far from probable for him.
As the teams line up for the match, most-to-all have a look on their face like there's a load of sister-dating about to go on. But no matter, there's a game to play. Everyone's a professional, let's get on with this. Germany line up with a 4-5-1 formation with someone named Cacau up front. I don't know much about the sole forward, other than the fact that his name sounds about as German as the name "Cheryl". Regardless, he's the guy that will be dealing with the balls from the nine guys behind him. The Uruguayan side lines up with a 4-4-2 with a front pair that I'm sure they'd have loved to have against Holland, desperate, vital, yet over-talked handballs notwithstanding.
[Aside: The Suarez Handball. It's no worse than someone taking the legs out from underneath a bounding striker going for goal when there's no one else back to defend and getting a yellow card for it. There, it's called "a good foul to take". In this case, it's a "we should look at the rules again" situation. Nonsense. They're both the same. The rules dictate the response to the action. It was a foul committed in the course of the rules. The referee response was both accurate and correct. This is nothing new. The only thing that should have happened is that Suarez should have shut up about it. Comparing his action to "The Hand of God" is ludicrous. Phrase coining like that should be left to cheating coke-heads that couldn't manage a Sunday pick-up game. I appear to digress...]
The match begins and feels like a true friendly match; teams facing each other that normally wouldn't in the course of conference qualification, and the fouls don't seem to be right. They seem to be over the top for a mean-nothing game, but suddenly, it appears that everyone involved is slugging it out for the third place ribbon. That said it doesn't appear that everyone's playing to win it. It seems they're playing to not lose it.
Ten minutes in and Friederich fires one off the crossbar, showing that if nothing else, Germany are well up for it. And it shows eight minutes later as Müller gets his fifth goal of the tournament, showing that at the very least, he's playing for it. And he's got company, it seems. Twenty-fifth minute, and Forlan et al are trying to push one in to equalize. Equalize! In a game that means as much as Lady GaGa's hat...They're making this their final. Fantastic.
Finally, Uruguay's work pays off. A ball taken from Schweinsteiger as though it was candy and he were a two-year old leads to Uruguay scoring through Cavani on the wing and it's official. It's game on. The sides finish the half and leave the field in a rain that is coming down so hard, the players should be leaving in pairs and entering a big boat.
The second half begins with none of the usual foreplay, both sides taking it to each other where they left off. In the forty-eighth minute, Butt parries a shot-rebound combo from Uruguay successfully, and it strikes me that this match is going to be way more exciting than anything Sunday has to offer.
To prove that point, the fifty-first minute happens. Uruguay sustain pressure into the German end, and Forlan picks up a cross and one-times it off the pitch into the back of the net. If anyone has been paying attention in this tournament, they'll have to recognize that Forlan has stood out as the scorer of some incredible goals. This one definitely adds to this tally.
And then there's Germany. Jansen scores a delightful header...and yes, that was delightful...in the fifty-sixth minute and it really is hitting home that this match will eclipse the spectacle tomorrow between Holland and Spain. It has to. Four goals scored in less than an hour, still a deadlock, and all I can picture is the dreary drab ten-man-clogged midfield from Wednesday that brought Germany to this game in the first place.
The teams trade blows throughout the following minutes and Schweinsteiger's attempts at goal are strongly saved, soaked up, and countered by Uruguay.
Still fighting his way inside the box repeatedly, he continues on looking to grab Man of the Match once again. That said, the substitution that sees Kiessling seems inspired, forcing his way forward and getting every part of his body on the ball in front of net. It leads me to wonder why he didn't start in fact. The pressure mounts further and in the eighty-second, it all happens.
A German corner sees a flurry of activity inside a very inert Uruguay defence that is as flat-footed as a 1920s collection of constabulary on a beat. Suddenly Khedira slots home what could be the German winner. After much end-to-end action, a Friedrich free kick giveaway found 25 yards out, it comes down to the final boot of the ball in the match. Forlan hits the crossbar, and given one last goal, this game would have finished any hope I had of a decent game tomorrow.
Full-time is blown, and were it not for the two losses that led up to these two teams playing each other for third place, I could have seen the best final in World Cup history.
Yawn. Roll on Sunday. Hup Holland Hup.