Monday 14 June 2010

Kuzmanovic lets me down, again

Well you can’t win ‘em all. Of course, it is most definitely preferable to win some of them, and if you can’t do that, then it’d still be nice to score once in a while. It is of course too early to begin to speak seriously of a curse, but if New Zealand defeat Slovakia then one must really begin to worry. “My dad just sent me a message,” I said to Harry, my Hull City supporting carriage companion as far as Budapest. “He says if Slovakia lose, then I am officially a curse and shouldn’t be allowed in Slovenia, Italy, Switzerland and so forth.” “You’re not to be allowed back in England either,” he replied. Fair point.

Serbia weren’t terrible, but it’s fair to say that they were most definitely silly. Although my prophecy of a Serb victory wasn’t to be, my inclination that they could screw themselves over somewhere down the line turned out to be spot on. From the wholly unsurprising, although perhaps slightly harsh, two yellow cards for Aleksandar Lukovic for petty challenges, to the drastically idiotic handball from Zdravko Kuzmanovic, this was a game Serbia could well have won if they had kept their discipline. It would appear that whether they fall under the name of Yugoslavia, Serbia & Montenegro or just plain old Serbia, they will remain susceptible to the same shortcomings. My impeccable host, Snezana, offered an insight as to why: “It is a national characteristic of Serbia to not acknowledge when we make mistakes,” she said. “So we just make them again.” Her point was seemingly proven by a media whom she says described the team’s performance as merely unlucky.

Kuzmanovic, a player I still bear a resentment towards due to a hefty price tag and subsequent underwhelming performances on a Football Manager game of mine, appeared initially to go against the grain, appealing for forgiveness from his team-mates as well he should. But then again, he also said it was an attempt to head the ball, which if true must surely raise a massive question mark over his heading technique. Although it’s fair to say Serbia weren’t exactly coasting until that point, they did offer a mild threat and could easily have nicked it, if not then a far from disastrous point was likely. Now, a result against Germany, trouncers of the Aussies, is essential and the Serbs I spoke with weren’t exactly confident.

The Serbs I spoke to were all women, mind, but don’t let that put you off - they certainly seemed to have a bit more in their football locker than the average girl down the pub who asks you which way England are shooting after the 65th minute. They named Spain, Brazil, Germany, Italy, France, Holland and Argentina as likely winners of the tournament, which seemed about right to me. They even didn’t disappoint when I asked if they knew of Savo Milosevic: he is apparently from Snezana’s area of origin, along with Nemanja Vidic and coach Radomir Antic, a man who once relegated Manchester City and brought David Pleat much joy. The girls weren’t, however, familiar with his farewell game for the national team, which in typical Savo style involved two penalty misses and two goals.

The venue for watching the match was on the Ada Ciganlija (Gypsy Island) on the banks of the Danube, a delightful collection of bars, food stalls and sports facilities creating something of a beach-like feel some 370km away from any coastline. The atmosphere most definitely surpassed that of Thessaloniki, as those around eagerly dried themselves off from their dip in the river - quite the departure from the Thames Embankment - to take their seat before some of the many outdoor screens broadcasting the match. It was an occasion of frustration as I detected the place seemed genuinely ready to explode with joy the second the ball crossed the Ghanaian line. There wasn’t a hint of the supposed violent intimidation Serb football followers are often associated with, and the sending off and penalty decisions were largely greeted with disappointed tut-tutting rather than an angry volley of referee-directed abuse. I got the sense that the Serbs were used to this kind of showpiece collapse.



But there were certainly encouraging signs, and perhaps the last word on the Beli Orlovi (White Eagles) should be given to Snezana’s friend Marija, who seemed most positive of all about the performance: “Well I am proud of them,” she declared. “They were running for the whole time. That is an excellent thing.” True say.


So onwards and geographically upwards to Slovakia it is, where a pummelling of the Kiwis is the order of the day. Well, that and a portion of halušky, the exquisite sounding national dish of dumplings topped with sheep’s cheese and bacon. I am confident of victory, though New Zealand’s problems are said to be with scoring goals rather than at the back so perhaps a cricket score shouldn’t be a minimum expectation. There should be absolutely no doubt whatsoever about the prospect of an atmospheric and excited Bratislava, with this being Slovakia’s first appearance at any major trophy as an independent nation - though most certainly not that the first time a team made up of Slovakians has entered a tournament. Nine of the 1976 Czechoslovakia European Championship final team were in fact from Slovakia, and yet their achievements would unofficially in most people’s eyes be attributed to the Czechs, merely because their bit of the name comes first. It would be interesting to see if that bothered the Slovaks, and whether that made finishing above the Czech Republic in qualification all the sweeter.


As for New Zealand, I mean them no disrespect when I wish for a heavy defeat, and frankly even though I’ll be in Bologna at the time, I really wouldn’t object to seeing them sneaking a victory over Italy - if not just to see the out of control hand gesticulations of the shell-shocked Azzurri faithful. I’m also interested in their pre-match ritual once out the tunnel - I’m aware that the nickname ‘All Whites’ is a reference to their shirt colour as opposed to their skin colour, but I still can’t help but imagine a white man’s version of the Haka being pulled out pre-match to scare the bejeezus out of the opposition. Perhaps an eleven man synchronised Peter Crouch style robot, or a full rendition of the hokey cokey would sufficiently sh*t the Slovakians up.

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Slovakia

Tournament odds 300/1


Remember the last time?
No, not even with Czecho in front of their name. The final time Czechoslovakia appeared in the World Cup was in Italia ‘90 - the squad consisted of 11 Slovakians, including current coach Vladimir Weiss, and reached the quarter finals.


Who do I recognise? I like Martin Skrtel. Slightly because he is a bit of no-nonsense stopper centre half, but mainly because he has a six letter name with only one vowel. Top notch. Manchester City’s livewire wide man, Vladimir Weiss III, wins this year’s World Cup Nepotism Award, as son of Vladimir Weiss II (Vladimir Weiss I made three appearances for Czechoslovakia in the 1960’s). Marek Hamsik is supposedly a bit tasty, so now is the time to show it.


Jarek’s Prophetic Vision One win, one loss, one draw. Qualification depends on how many goals they and Paraguay score past New Zealand - and I fancy them to get at least one more.


Jarek’s Prophetic Match Vision New Zealand to frustrate for the first hour of the game, but a mini-collapse to ensue once Slovakia break through. 3-0.




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