World Cup bloggers come together at Real Sports Bar

I can't believe the World Cup tournament is almost over! 

I've had so much fun with this over the past month and I expect to endure some serious blogging and football withdrawal after Sunday.   So, when the Toronto Star invited all of the World Cup Voices bloggers to Real Sports Bar to blog the semi-finals, I couldn't resist.

Real Sports Bar is a new venue in Maple Leaf Square that opened this past June.  I took a look at its website in preparation for the blog fest and came to the conclusion that Real Sports Bar is the lovechild of 24's CTU and Eurovision - lots of TV screens and neon.  After being there, I still feel comfortable in making that assertion.

When I arrive, there is a long lineup snaking out of the entrance and I pass a trio of disappointed Spain fans who have been unable to secure a table, one of whom mumbles:  "Oh well, we tried..."

I have to admit to being slightly overwhelmed by the turnout but notice a large sign welcoming the Toronto Star bloggers so I take that as an invitation to bypass the queue and introduce myself to a hostess who quickly shows me to blogger central. 

I settle in on a stool at a long, counter height, table directly in front of the biggest TV screen I have seen in my life.  Our location is like being in the front row at an Imax theatre.

 

Some of my virtual colleagues have already arrived and I am happy to finally meet them in person. Almost everyone is rooting for Germany in this match against Spain; John tells me that his mother is Dutch and his father German so he's hoping for those two teams to be in the final.  I haven't decided who to cheer for yet.  I figure my emotions will take over at some point and then I'll know.

John, Louise and Nabil 

We are soon joined by Todd and Stefan and a photographer from the Star does a quick interview with each of us.  First the welcome sign, now a photo op?  I'm starting to feel kind of special...

Welcome to the other side of the lens!

By the time we all have our laptops and cameras unpacked and drinks in hand, the match has begun.

The crowd at Real Sports Bar is definitely the biggest I have watched a match on yet, and as far as I can tell most people are Germany fans.  Another blogger, Jane, arrives and tells me that there about 200 Spain fans outside, in the sweltering heat, watching the game on another giant screen TV mounted on the Air Canada Centre.  The conclusion I draw from this is that Germany's fans like to plan ahead and make reservations.

Germany fans 

Spain fans 

As the match progresses, Spain is dominating the play, and I'm feeling pretty invested in everything that team does; the names I'm remembering are Villa, Ramos, Xavi...  When Spain scores in the second half I jump off of my stool and cheer, arms raised high.  Looks like I'm rooting for Spain in this one; and it turns out there are at least a few Spain fans who managed to make it into the bar after all.

 

Soon after Spain scores, our waiter arrives with dessert that Jane and I have ordered.  My slice of cake is akin to the TV screen - the biggest piece of dessert I have ever seen.  I remark to Todd that my cake looks like a house; he responds, more specifically, that it looks like a ski chalet.  Todd is right.

 
10-layer chocolate cake, 2/3 of which currently resides in my fridge

Too soon, it's all over.  Spain has defeated Germany 1-0 and is advancing to the finals.  I try to console John by joking that now his family can watch the game, united.  He laughs, joking:  "Yes, now my parents can stay together."

As for me, I say my goodbyes and Jane and I walk together to Union Station.  Remembering that there are only two games left, I feel a little sad.  However, I'm also excited because I have decided to go to Brazil for 2014!  The planning starts now... Who's with me?

Jane, Tara and the sign 

About Tara Howe

If you thought the Dutch had clogs, check the GER-ESP Midfield...

Real Sports: If You're Looking for Recliners, Go To The Brick

Yes, I'm supporting Holland.  Yes, I'm reviewing Germany.  Yes, I'm licking my lips at a chance to see Germany face the already advanced Dutchmen into the final.  When the call came out for the Toronto Star bloggers to congregate for the semi-finals of the World Cup, let's face it, you begin to feel a bit like a professional sports hack.  I half wanted to have some form of Fedora with a press card tucked into the ribbon, a butt-filled ashtray at the table, and a bottle of whisky left at the table by the wait staff because I asked them to leave it there.  This was not the case.  This is Toronto, we're all polite, and you can't smoke inside anywhere unless the building is on fire.

Call Yourselves Reporters? Not One Fany Hat Among You!

So, I'll continue to be a low-rent blogger.  The call came out to review Germany v. Spain at the Real Sports Bar across the street from the Air Canada Centre.  To call itself the ultimate sports bar and be so close to the home of the Maple Leafs makes it very suspect.  One would hope it would eventually be in the neighbourhood of winners.  Regardless...

I walk in and the place is massive, reminding me of the ESPN Zone in Times Square in NYC.  The only thing missing is the recliners that dot the front of the New York sports haven.  Once they have that, we're good to go. 

Instead of ruing the absence of comfy chairs, I settle in for the last semi-final match of the entire World Cup, Germany v. Spain.  As much as I'm typically not a Germany fan, I've fallen in love of this team and their style of play.  My Dutch already into the final, I would love to see nothing more than the Germans slide into the final slot, making the previous final encounters slightly more vindictive.  The Spanish?  I'm sure they're great as well.  I've begun to love the way this German team works and it would be great to see them scramble against a sea of Oranje.  Or more likely, it would be fantastic seeing both European sides crash against each other, with similar sides taking swings at the other.  And of all the days to have my Herta Berlin shirt in the wash...

Not Actual Size...Much Much Much Bigger

Inside the Real Sports bar, I move to an analog means of work, preferring a book and pen to a laptop since no outlets are available.  That and I figure that's what the Germans would do if they had their druthers as well, mechanic over high-tech.  I am sat down beside fellow blogger Tara Howe who I met ages ago at the Fox and Fiddle for a comedy show.  I'm sure we were both fantastic.

I settle in with my fellow Toronto Star bloggers at a table at the base of the massive HD screen.  The vantage point is such that we might as well be watching from the swing set at the base of a drive-in movie screen.  It is gigantic.  Shifting my glasses in the play where possible, I tend to focus at the smaller screens nearer the bar which up to the 10-minute mark still have darts on instead of the World Cup semi-final.

Both teams show their line-ups and both adhere to a 4-5-1, meaning that there is going to be a clog in the middle of the field that has BP execs licking their lips at.  Both teams open the game with their cards close to their chests, making this a cagey match at best from the onset.

Four minutes in, and we have our first pitch invasion of the tournament.  Why it took so long, and why it wasn't Roger Milla from the Coke commercials either beggars belief.  It still makes me think that England have a chance.

The two monolithic 4-5-1s attack each other like elephants fighting over peanuts.  It's a clunky affair that has the elegance of bumper pool.  This sadly will be the theme for the outing.  That said, 14 minutes in, and Spain have the first chance.  The place swoons and already I'm concerned that I'm the only German blogger in the place.  I'm not, but it does feel like it, the majority I'm sure having found refuge in The Musket.  The bulk of the possession lands in the Spanish hands, but that makes it easier for the Germans to counter, doesn't it?  And they do.  A few corners go Germany's way, many are close, but it's still a stalemate.

As the first half wears on, it appears more and more that the German defence has become more resolute and unforgiving, allowing no Spanish creativity at all.  Germany is not playing the game that they've become famous for in this tournament, but nor is Spain afforded the opportunity to play the game they've yet to play in the tournament.  Tit for tat at this point.  All in all, thready play from both sides, Germany still stable and resolute, unable to capitalize.

We head to the second half, and already I'm thinking what's this blog going to look like with penalty kicks written all over it.  The more I see of the match, the more I realize a mistake will have to be made by one of the sides to resolve this.  That's when the dam beings to crack.

Germany becomes more and more questionable, wondering more how to not only counter but hold back the Spanish.  Spain advances, and Germany soaks up the pressure, but more and more, Germany look for a counter that never seems to come.  And then there's Puyol...

A Spanish corner results and an unmarked Puyol lurches forward to head home what ends up being the winner.  Good for Spain.  Bad for me and the Germans.  The Germans appear to have nothing left in the tank, having left Puyol as open as a day pass.  Me, I've never liked Puyol, always thinking he looks like a guy that eats his lunch at a Woodbridge Wal-Mart.  Regardless, 1-0 Spain.

And so it stays that way.  Spain close down at the end making it impossible for Germany to play the way you'd fancy they could.  Germany now face Uruguay on Saturday, and with that loss, it is guaranteed that there is a new country to add to the list of World Cup winners.  With the Dutch not being able to face Germany, I hope the future still remains Oranje.

Spoedig zal er acht zijn.

See? I Am A Real Journalist...Honest!

About Todd Van Allen

Uruguay vs Netherlands Game @ Real Sports Bar in Toronto

Here I am at Real Sports Bar to write about the semifinal between Uruguay and Netherlands. This place is packed with mainly Netherlands fans. Some scattered Uruguay fans.

First Goal Celebrations.

After the Uruguay equalizer.

Colleen at the bar

 

  

Germany: Where to watch

The German Chamber of Commerce located at 480 University Ave., is planning a party to celebrate the German soccer team's semi-final appearance in the World Cup.

The party will take place on Wednesday July 7, at 2 p.m. There will be approximately 100 German fans in attendance to watch the Germany-Spain match up.

In addition, if the German team is victorious, the German Chamber of Commerce will host a party at Toronto's Distillery District in conjunction with the German Consulate, on Sunday July 11.

Ghana: A rebuttal on behalf of Luis Suárez

We've all had a day or two to digest the ending of the Ghana v Uruguay quarter final match. In particular we've had time to digest Luis Suárez's "hand of god" part deux handball in the dying seconds of extra time. I have heard it said from countless people both online and in the Ghanaian bar I was watching the match at (The Point @ Jane and Wilson) that Suárez is a cheat, liar and in the most extreme case should be banned from football for life. Now on Friday I was viewing the game from the biased view of someone who was supporting Ghana. We were all heartbroken at the final result, in a game that lets face it Ghana should have won in extra time as they dominated play. However due to the disproportionate response in favour of making Luis Suárez the living model of everything that is wrong with football, I'm turning off my bias and defending him...a little bit.

First, Mr Suárez you are a great player and a cheat...in the same vain as Theirry Henry and Diego Maradona. You may get your big summer move to Manchester United, but you'll always have this hanging on you.

Second, although people want to ban him for life and take away his world cup goals (will never happen by the way) He was caught by the linesmen. He was punished appropriately by the rules that govern the game, he was red carded, sent off, the team was punished by having one less man and a penalty was awarded. Also lets not forget to mention that he will miss the semi final against Holland, which if they lose he won't be singing the happy tune as he is now.  

Third, It is up to the penalty taker to convert the penalty. Gyan did not do that. Now I know the argument will be that it should have never been a penalty situation as Suárez used his hands to clear the ball off the line. I disagree with this as Suárez could have gotten to it with his head had he now been so focused on using his hands.

Frankly for all those who are looking for 10 match bans for Suárez and a apology from FIFA to the Ghanaian Football Association; Stop it is not going to happen nor should it. He has been punished to the full extent of footballing law, plus the football gods always seem to put the wrongs right again....If you don't believe me ask the Irish FA.

About Mike Newell

Germany v. England: Finally, backing a winner

I appear to be the death knell for teams in this year's World Cup.  I began with Algeria (not one goal scored) who dropped out of the group stages in the dying moments.  This was capped by not being able to find one single Algerian in Toronto.  I'm sure they're out there, but I sure couldn't find them.

I'll hang my hat on the fact that I met a Moroccan woman that was cheering for them, and a bunch of people that I met that swear that they'd heard of "Albania or whatever the hell country you're writing about". 

Nice job.

Next up, was the USA.  Having already advanced out of the groups, I was asked to cover their success from the Final 16 onwards.  So, hats off to Ghana who provided me a dandy work shortcut.  USA! On Your Way!  At least I was able to find some actual Americans in this city.  And it only took a tacky sports bar to make that happen.

So, what's the next country whose citizens I badger to find out more about their culture?  Step forward Germany.  This should be a no-brainer.  I actually know Germans in the city and add to this the first match I get to cover is Germany v. England in the Final 16.  Yes!  Brilliant! 

However, if my history of covering teams in this tournament is anything to go by, if I were the team manager, I'd be seeing if I could put tickets to Munich on Monday on stand-by.  Why?  Because I have decided to pay attention to you and as a result, you are doomed to advance about as far as Canada in this tournament.

The beauty about a Germany v. England match is the lemon-rind bitter rivalry.  These two teams have apparently hated each other for ages and the matches are always a fantastic display of hope and fury.  A small bit of research returns the fact that a lot of Germans will be watching this match at The Musket on Advance Road in Etobicoke.  In the early hours of Sunday, I slide on the only German shirt I own (a Hertha Berlin top) and head to the West End.

 
"Right, mate.  Hide your Three Lions Shirt..."

I arrive well over an hour before kick-off and already I see queues forming to get inside and parking already appearing desperate.  Already I'm greeted by German adherence to rules and order when I'm ordered out of the Dimpflmeier Bakery parking lot by a small elderly gentleman who merely waves his fingers at me, points to the sign indicating "Customer Parking Only" and then shrugs his shoulders.  This would never have happened if I was driving a VW.

Upon entering The Musket, the place is already packed and I find the only chair in the entire establishment in the company of three generations of German men; grandfather, father, grandsons.  Brilliant. 

I ask if the last seat is available and they beckon me in.  I attribute it to my team-formerly-in-the-Bundesliga shirt.  I'm immediately asked "Are you a reporter?"  So I guess I don't look German.  Or failing that, I look like the sort of guy that's going to ask you an annoyingly large number of questions.  Instead of trying to explain the difference between a "blog" and a "printed article", I simply say "yes".

I now look forward to meeting genuine journalists at their meetings or whatever the hell they are, take your abuse, and buy you all a Diet Sprite.  It's a white lie.  Deal.

I ask the men at the table if they also cheer not only for Germany but also any German club sides.  The two grandsons support Bayern Munich, which makes sense, them being by far and away the most famous of the sides.  The grandfather says he supports a horrible team, Hertha Berlin.  I smile and point to the crest of my Hertha Berlin shirt.  The elder at the table winces and asks "Why would you cheer for them, they're awful?"  I'll be honest; they were from Berlin and the colours were that of Rangers.  Not the best reason, but that's the one I've got.

 
"Dudes.  I can see your England tops under your Kraftwerk hoodies..."

The more I get to talk to this Toronto-based German family, the more I realize that they are not just fair-weather German fans.  They truly enjoy the game of football.  The one grandson plays for the Ontario Under-21 side.  Impressive.  So this must be a table that understands the rivalry between Germany and England, a rivalry almost as old as the World Cup itself. 

When I ask if the rivalry against England is as hostile with the German people as the English seem to hold it, I'm told "Real fans watch the beauty.  No fan cares about the fighting."  Nods from his kin all around.  So, as far as this table is concerned, England bigs this contest up to shopping-the-day-before-Christmas intensity.  Germany it seems couldn't be arsed.

Two things hit me as I sit among the fans in attendance.  First, being the sheer number of people that have filed into The Musket since I got in.  It is now standing room only and I did truly get the last seat.

In my "You're not from around here" paranoia, I can't help but think that at some point I'll be asked to leave on account of being as German as the sushi chef at Nami. Thankfully, that will probably not happen since I am in buying pitchers of lager from Munich with the German three-Gen'ers. 

Secondly, people's support of the World Cup varies as much as their knowledge of it.  I'm in the company of four men who appreciate the game, see its elegance, who nod in appreciation when they see that Germany is countering England's 4-4-2 formation with a 4-5-1 giving Klose the lone sniper role.  We discuss this over sips of beer appreciatively. 

This is painfully contrasted like a Morning Zoo DJ jarring you from a dream involving you and the female Dutch Bavaria-dress-wearing models by the person beside you who obviously doesn't know that soccer is most commonly known as "football" and is truly just along for the patriotic ride. 

I may be quick to judge here, but the fact that I'm asked about the offside rule ("Do they have to go back behind the halfway line to get onside?"), the concept of 'extra time' ("Half an hour?  Well...that's just way too long.  They should shorten it"), and of course fouls ("Is the black card the worst one?").  I half want to ask how they think each side will fare in the swimsuit competition.

During the national anthems, they show Mick Jagger in attendance at the match.  He is blithely signing autographs, smiling and cajoling with fellow fans, hardly aware about what is to happen. 

The first 10 minutes show the match as a clumsy affair, neither Germany nor England playing like they want to be creative or challenging for fear of a mistake.  This lasts not much longer as Germany shows more elegance creeping into their game, more "1-2" passes connecting and possession solidifying. 

Come the 21st minute, everything stops and gets loud.  Klose takes a single shot from the keeper and shoulder-barges his way through the England defence like a man negotiating a subway turnstile.  The ball is slotted past Calamity James and suddenly my ears are ringing like I'm wearing vuvuzela earmuffs.  Germany are 1-0 to the good and I take this opportunity to buy a replacement pitcher for the table.  It's the least a reporter could do.

In so doing, I run into Helmut, the owner of The Musket who I surmise will be played by Max Von Sydow when the movie of this day is made. 

By the time I return to the table with fresh beer, Germany are playing more fluidly.  England by contrast are a team chasing it and not doing so very well.  Come the 33rd minute, the ball pokes through the England net again, 2-0 Germany. 

At this point it becomes violently clear that England are a shambles at the back, four men incapable of handling a single lone striker with a small supporting cast.  The England defence has become so porous it should be used to drain pasta.  One-third of the match gone and Germany finding their footing.

When the 37th minute goal by England is scored, it is met by silence, save the two or three England fans that found their way inside the very-pro-German bar.  Bravery and stupidity.  Never has a combination been so visible.  Well, outside of the Black Bloc.

 
Hey, England.  See that green stuff?  That's "space". It's desired.

Next up: 38th minute goal and the call that wasn't.  We've seen this moment replayed more times than all of the other goals in the World Cup combined.  And I'm also going back to the Pele years.  Lampard took a screaming shot at the German net, hit the crossbar, the ball went into the net and bounced out, no goal called. 

From that point on, the Germans in attendance knew that a bullet was dodged and they got away with something awful.  Maybe it was that, or perhaps they were just preparing themselves for the years and years now of England fans complaining it was over the line. 

You know what?  Use this as the opportunity to finally call "Karma!" on the Geoff Hirst goal 40+ years before.  It's done.  Tit-for-tat.  Forget it.  But probably not a chance of that.  Halftime features an English-accented pundit screaming for FIFA to install video validation of all goals?  Why now?  Oh, because it's England.  Were South Korea denied a pure chance like this, would mention be made?  Nope.  Once again, I think of Leaf fans...

The second half begins and in my mind there's no way that this score can stand in order to bring about a degree of fairness for all involved.  A clear and out-and-out winner has to be defined.  England appear to be well up to the task, firing chance after chance at the German goal, the defence and keeper soaking up the pressure with relative ease.  So much so, I hate to turn to my notepad to take notes. 

Finally the dam bursts.  3-1 and missed England goal or not, it's academic from here on in.  England are truly beaten, sink holes appearing in the defence allowing Germany to notch their fourth goal of the game.

Two minutes of added time and that's that.  The Germans advance, the English call for Capello's resignation.  A day of definite contrasts.  The Germans showed themselves as a team with youth, vigour, and support of a well-honed, well-groomed structure.  The English team that of a collection of egos forced into ill-shaped holes.  How the German side will fare against the likes of a talent-clogged sided managed by a maniac is anyone's guess.

A quick shot of the stands shows a very dejected Mick Jagger.  He of all people should know you can't always get what you want.  I feel the same way.  I have to leave before I can order a sausage and sauerkraut.  At least with this team I'm covering, I get a second chance.

"So who's next?  Argentina?  Are they good?"

About Todd Van Allen

"Having a Hoot in Little America" or "Ghana-na-na-na! Hey Hey Hey! Goodbye!"

Down to the final 16 in the World Cup, and my attempts to find out more about Algeria ended with their failure to advance.  So, I took it upon myself to find out more about the smaller countries not expected to advance this far in the competition.  I focused my attention on a little-known country that surprises everyone by their presence in the final 16, the United States of America.  Had it not been for American internationals Maurice Edu and DaMarcus Beasley who play for Rangers, I'd never have known the USA existed.  Armed with my Rangers 'Edu' top, I ventured into the city trying to find an American bar and hopefully have better success meeting Americans than I did Algerians.

Doing a quick bit of research to find an American-centric bar, I found a pub, common in most American urban centres, called "Hooters".  Upon entering, I noted that there was no sign of any estuary.  Nor owls, as the name might suggest.  But the staff is not only friendly, but attractive, and I'll also assume, American.  Paydirt!

Hooters: A Slice of Americana in Toronto's Back Yard!

Some background on the United States:  You may be surprised to know that this country actually shares a border with Canada to the south.  Not as commonly known, Canada briefly occupied them circa 1812.  They also possess the largest population of all the competing countries, and thus surprising that it's a shock that they're doing this well.  One would think that such a large population would allow them to have a much larger pool of players to choose from for this competition.  It seems in talking to the Americans I find, the country tends to prefer supporting other competitive sports, such as "Basketball", "Baseball" and "Competitive Eating."  I am also informed that in the USA, they watch another game, also called "Football".  However, in their version of the beautiful game, it is played at a much slower pace on a much smaller field, and the players are able to use their hands to pick up the ball.  This is not only alien to me, but unheard of in proper football, but Toronto being the multi-cultural centre that it is, I remind myself not to make fun of other country's customs.

I order what I'm told is a common American beer, a "Budweiser".  I quickly note that this microbrew has, through sheer determination and American pluck, found its way into a sponsorship of the World Cup.  Hooray for the successes of small business!  American Dream indeed!  It is Ashley that brings me my pint, with a side of true American hospitality.

 
Ashley with a Budweiser. Sepp Blatter Would Be Proud.

I find myself sitting beside two Americans named Peter and Ted, from Colorado and Chicago respectively.  Both cities have MLS teams, and knowing of the Chicago Fire and their away support at TFC matches, they are well aware of the importance of this match.  They are cheering like they're at a Lakers game.  Five minutes in Boateng scores for Ghana, commencing the burrowing of the hole the USS have to climb out of.  There's a lot of fight in the US team yet, and they wisely bring on Rangers Edu to bring some more punch into the midfield, towing with him his Scottish Premier League experience.

 
Two Americans Knowing Why the Ball Isn't Being Picked Up

The US begin the second half, still a man down, but are pushing forward, forcing Ghana to defend and rely solely on the counter attack in the opening minutes.  Balls are being threaded into the box.  There are no Ghana fans here it seems, and it's all-American.  Finally, a fruitful search.

USA Away

Suddenly, the US gets the play that they want, Dempsey gets brought down in the Ghana box, and a penalty is awarded.  Landon Donovan, no stranger to being part of US success, slots home the penalty to equalize.  A more open match is now expected and delivered.  Both teams now seem to be trading equivalent blows, this game now mirroring the South Korea-Uruguay match earlier in the day in that this may be the first game that goes to extra-time if not penalty kicks.

 
Plucky Little USA Still Fights On

At the 81st minute mark, the US are awarded a free kick that hope to put them forward.  No such luck.  The Americans in attendance are willing their side forward, hoping to advance to the quarters.  If they do, I wonder what the streets of Little America in Toronto will look like.  I'm sure we'll be able to find them with their chants of "USA! USA! USA!"  It is mentioned that the US is the largest purchaser of World Cup final tickets, second only to Africans.  As it goes to extra time, it may turn out that their purchases are warranted.  Or not.

In the opening moments of extra time, a goal by Gyan puts Ghana up after 93 minutes.  It appears that for the US, this plucky little nation's tournament may be over.  Africa, meanwhile, hang their hopes on the Ghana result staying.  The US seems to be fumbling, frantic to notch the equalizer.  Each free kick awarded is lobbed forward on net, the Ghana defence still holding on.  Consistently.  The US continues to press up to the dying moments, culminating in a corner in the 120th minute of added/injury time.  The punched shot is collected and returned to net with a volley, Howard the US keeper up to add strength up front.  No avail.  The Hooters crowd groans at the miss.

Ghana comes forward again, hoping to kill off the tie.  The US meanwhile keeps missing with every attempt.  The whistle blows.  The US is out and Ghana goes through.  Their hopes, including those of my fellow Rangers kin, are dashed.  I look up and Peter and Ted are nowhere to be found.

Sadly, it appears that I'm the Death Knell for teams that I cover.  First Algeria.  Now the USA.  Let's see what Germany does.  I hope their Hooters is as nice as this one.

Algeria: Wrong place, right time

Desperate times call for desperate measures.  My attempts to find a full on, no-holds-barred, no-one-here-but-us-Algerians bar/restaurant/club/wholesale furniture store to watch the game at have failed up to this point.  My mentions of Rangers player Bougherra have only gotten me so far in this city, so I pulled the "Gotta find it" Hail Mary.  I Googled it.

Up popped two results under "Algerian restaurant", one called JaJa Mediterannean, the other Roi do Couscous.  Result!  However, if my dealings with Toronto restaurants have taught me anything it is this: Unless you see a very well maintained website telling you about the trivia night results from last week, make sure that the places are still around.  Glad I did.  JaJa has turned into some sort of a fire-pit meat grilling place, and Roi de Couscous, the best-named restaurant ever, is now a sushi joint on Baldwin St, something that street has desperately needed (I note dipping my comments in hot buttered sarcasm).

So, back to the old-new 'hood and back to Bloor and Shaw.  I decide to try a new venue for football but a place that I have been to before, Lalibela Ethiopian restaurant.

 
Lalibela - Where One Would Think All African Teams are Welcomed

As before, not as highly attended, but again, people appear to have to work at 10:00 am on a Wednesday.  Over the course of the match, people do begin to file in.  I also note that Algerian manager Rabah Saadane must make this a very important game as he's wearing a suit in lieu of the tracksuit from the previous matches.  I'm hoping it's that, because I also note that some folks also dress up for funerals.  Ugh.

I'll Assume Everyone Else is a Blogger as Well

The restaurant has both games on; the England match has the audio on, but all in attendance focus on the muted Algerian game.  To add to the mixed media of the experience, the Algerian game is split with a white line down the middle of the LG screen with something called "TruMotion" on on one side, and off on the other.  I see no difference.  More like "FalsMotion".

Can You See The Difference? Yes. One Team Will Score.

With the two screens broadcasting the two games being on opposite sides of the restaurant, I begin to feel like I'm watching tennis not football.  I finally decide to keep my eyes glued to the Algerian match, while eavesdropping on the England match audio.  No choice really.

When the first USA chance is called offside, there's no reaction from the viewers.  Everyone appears to accept it.  I begin to wonder why and then I hear the England goal. 

Damn. 

I fire up my Excel spreadsheet of results that also calculates the group table places and start tinkering with possible results.  Slovenia need a goal and so does Algeria.  Thankfully Bougherra is not seeing that much of the ball, leaving it to the midfield and forwards whose job it is to pop the Jabulani into the net.  That said, in typical Bougherra style, any attempts to tell him to stay back fall on deaf ears.

The passes are being fed into the box by Algeria but to no effect, Algeria not able to get on the end of one and slot it home.  Which, admittedly, has been the story of this campaign for them, having not scored a single goal in the tournament.  At the six minute mark Algeria chanced it off the bar, but that's the closest they have gotten.

The half-time hit, and if I hadn't a lunch appointment, I'd be tearing into a Foul, a stew of beans with sauteed onion and green pepper in butter, that comes with a side of fresh bread that is making my stomach growl with vuvuzela-intensity.  Also in the key of B-Flat.

Still-Life With Laptop and Coffee. See, Ma? I'm a Proper Journalist Now!

Second half continues and the USA and Algeria are trading blows back and forth, both landing chances on either side that are not hitting the mark.  It's a hard thing, keeping an eye on one game and willing another team to score one in another match.

I keep hearing about the Slovenian pressure, but I'd love to hear the crowd silenced to make Algeria's task easier.  As it sits with England up 1-0, Algeria have to win by two, two more than they've scored in a previous 180 minutes of play.  Except now they have less than 20 minutes to do it in.  Algeria begin to remind me of my hairline; decent at the back, really thin up front.

Torn further am I as a Rangers fan as seeing Maurice Edu subbed off early on the US side, but now in the dying moments, seeing DaMarcus Beasley, another probably-soon-to-be-former Rangers player take the field.  Ugh.  Fouls are marking the end of both games, making both games increasingly tough to watch.
  Two goals are needed in the dying moments, one from Algeria, one from Slovenia, that will make the freshly yellow-carded Algerian Lacen actually able to miss the next match.  Still nil-nil, and there are no happy faces anywhere in the stands, both the Yanks and Algerians needing a goal to advance.

Suddenly it all happens very very weirdly.

The England game ends 1-0.  As soon as the match ends and they announce the win, a US strike on goal, a rebound, and Donovan slots hit home behind the Algerian keeper.  1-0 USA...and the place erupts.  Not only do Algeria lose, not only do the US go through, but to add to it, I've been hanging out in a place that was cheering on the US.  No one wanted Algeria to win except me.  Injury is added to insult as Algerian captain Yahia is given a red card in the dying moments.

So thus ends not only an unsuccessful World Cup for the Boughie-Boys, but also for me in trying to find out more about the Algerian community in Toronto.  Not unlike Algeria in this group, I never came close to hitting the net.

About Todd Van Allen

France: Heartbreak on King St.

As I walk from Spadina Subway Station to the Alliance Francaise de Toronto, I realize the dreary weather seems to reflect the feelings of France supports in Toronto and abroad.  The past two games have seen France fans support their team in droves.  Much like their attitudes at the time, it was sunny and warm outside as fans made their way to watch the afternoon games.  Now, things are just dreary.

As a registered charity, the Alliance Francaise de Toronto dedicates itself to promoting French language and culture.  This also includes their national teams and I have been told that the walls of the Spadina location were packed the previous two games with France supporters watching on a projector screen in the main gallery.

Kick-off nears and only a handful of people are in attendance. Slight panic sets in among the few when it is realized that the Uruguay vs Mexico game is being shown on CBC.  Cooler heads luckily prevail as the channel is switched to the CBC's French station that is televising the match.

The match is underway and it doesn't take long to see and hear the feelings of the France supporters.  Frustration, demoralization and anxiety runs high in a room that is otherwise used for meetings and a picture gallery.  Other than the announcer, frustrated sighs and grunts are the only noises heard as fans sit cross armed in displeasure.

South Africa scores off a free-kick and moral in the room begins deflating.  Not long after, almost all confidence is lost when France, in my opinion, is harshly reduced to ten-men.  Yoann Gourcuff is given a straight red card for leading with his arm in a 50/50 header challenge.  Not long after that, the hosts score again and France is down 2-0.  France has to win by a large margin to even have a chance at moving on to the next round and supporters in the Alliance are completely shocked.  Some fans simply get up and leave without a word.

As the closing minutes of the half are played, I decide to use the half-time break to commute to King St. to see what is happening at the hub of France supporters in the city.  Leaving, I get a couple smiles and nods.  One well-dressed man even comes up to me and says that no one wants to watch anymore anyway because supporters are disgusted with the coach who should have been fired two years ago. I shake his hand good-bye and head southbound.

At Le Saint Tropez, there is a larger group of supporters.  Many are answering questions from television media about their feelings on the game.  I have seen France games here before and it is decibels quieter now.  Everyone seems to have come to the realization that their team is going to be eliminated in just over 30 minutes.

Suddenly, the satellite feed cuts out and the picture and sound turns into hosts in the studio apologizing for the technical complications.  Some life though is brought back into the France fans when it is announced that France has scored to make the game 2-1.  The picture comes back eventually and the game is played out.

The match ends with no further goals scored.  Uruguay and Mexico are moving onto the next round and South Africa and France are eliminated.  The history has been written for Group A.  I filter out of Le Saint Tropez and walk towards St. Andrew Subway Station.  When I get to a red light, I look back.  There are no people blowing whistles, waving flags or cheering on the streets or sidewalks.  On this dreary day in Toronto, for France fans, there is no party on King St.

About Stephen D'Angelo

Japan: Celebrating despite the loss

Unfortunately after a tough game in which the Japanese national team displayed a lot of heart and played a tactically sound game they were finally overcome by the strong Dutch squad.  Japan played the way they had to to win the game and that was defensive with fast counter attacks, which worked great in the first half but they did not adjust as well to the Dutch in the second half and conceded a somewhat soft goal.

 A loss for Japan was hard to take but it was a victory overall for the Japanese community in Toronto as we held a two-day event for the match called "The Samurai Blue Project" at the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre. It was a fun-filled two days with 3 vs 3 soccer and a soccer clinic, kids face painting, a video game corner and match highlights of Japan's road to the World Cup. With a sleepover and early rise and shine breakfast which led perfectly to the game start of 730 a.m. The event drew over 300 people for the two days and was a great success and fun had by all.

Even after the loss the fans walked away having had a great time and knowing that Japan can still advance with a good showing thursday versus Denmark.

The event was coordinated by the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre and the Japanese Football club of Toronto.

GO NIPPON!!!

About Kazu Tokuyama