World Cup: Brazil Carves Up Turkey

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Reimagining England
Well. We'll have to rethink that England side won't we? For the first 20 minutes, I thought they were going to get skinned alive, real men-against-boys stuff. Then you started to see what was going on; Ferdinand and Campbell were holding the line, and Scholes and Butt were closing down space in midfield. The turning point, I thought, was Owen's shot against the post, which forced the Argentines to play a little deeper than they may have liked. Then came the penalty, followed, in the second half, by one of the best 15 minutes play I can remember from any English team.

Some points:

Owen really is a marvel. His first three real touches went (a) hits post when triple-teamed (b) draws penalty (c) creates from nothing chance that he really should have put away. The speed of his turn is phenomenal; he must have a pelvic girdle made of cast iron. He's clear evidence that footie is a better game than it was 10 years ago, when he would have been hacked every time he turned on the edge of the box.

Who will provide the creativity in England's midfield? Not Beckham (a Johnny-one-note), Scholes or Butt. Sinclair looked nice when he came on, but seems a lot to ask of someone so inexperienced.

Politically incorrect point: The Argentines really are a filthy side, and it does them little good — at least when they're reffed by someone as good as Collina.

Just watched Sweden vs. Nigeria on tape delay. The Nigerians desperately unlucky to go out; huge talent there. But Sweden are a good, solid side.

One really great thing about this World Cup. We're still not out of the first round and we can look forward to at least three mouthwatering games: France vs. Denmark, Germany vs. Cameroon, Sweden vs. Argentina. Brilliant.

Listen to Ladbrokes!
Blimey, as they used to say in those British war comics I devoured in my youth. Argentina appeared to control the midfield for much of the game, and yet England produced the best scoring chances — and plenty of 'em — for a well-deserved win. The effortless magic of Michael Owen was often in marked contrast to the grittier efforts of many of his teammates — like a World War II Spitfire pilot taking on and beating three Messerschmitts, while Messrs. Heskey, Cole and even Scholes and Beckham looked on from the infantry trenches below. There were little flashes of inspiration — I particularly enjoyed Trevor Sinclair doing a bit of Sinclair-inho down the left early on. And the most influential England midfielder turned out not to be (the, uh, overrated?) Beckham, but a terrier named Butt. (Never mind the name, Monsieur Crumley — Les Bleus could use one.)

Argentina looked composed, skillful and well-organized, but no matter how elegant your first-time passing and defensive cool, at the end of the day it's about getting the ball to your strikers in scoring positions, and them putting it in the net. Argentina proved unable to do either, not least because England's defensive anchor Rio Ferdinand and that man Butt gave them little opportunity. By the second half, Argentina still had most of the possession, but had simply run out of ideas. A nasty match, in which both sides left the pitch without any thought of swapping shirts.

But the result turns the World Cup on its head. The esteemed British betting house Ladbrokes has shaved the odds on England winning the World Cup from 16-1 to 7-1, and that's not patriotic fervor getting the better of the wizened old bookmakers. All bets are off now that original contenders such as Argentina and Portugal have been bloodied, and France may be going home before Round 2. Italy tops the Ladbrokes odds, followed by Brazil, Spain and England. Spain certainly have the only 100 percent record so far, but haven't yet been seriously tested. But a note of caution for all you England fans. Sweden were saved by the woodwork more than once, as Aghawowa, Kanu, Okocha and Yobo rained shots on their goal. The Super Eagles are going home whatever their result against England next week, but there's a scary precedent (for England) in Scotland vs. Holland in 1978. So much had been expected of Messrs. Sounness, Gemmil, Dalglish and company, and yet they'd been humbled by Peru and Saudi Arabia. Then, when all that was left to play for was their honor, Scotland pulled off a magnificent 3-1 win over the world's best team.

Poetic Justice
Ho-ho! The Argentinians are this Cup's version of Bonny and Clyde, but nary a word was said about the hateful play of Osama bin Uruguay. I still wanna burn that *@?!! ref's house down! Here I'd figured few people in South America would have even heard of Ty Cobb, and Uruguay goes and manages to find 11 of them to field.

Although my disdain for the English side — all English sides — is documented, I have to admit finding poetic justice not only in the English win, but also in the way it came about. The Future (Owen) provokes a penalty with his sparkling play, and Beckham drives the nail of vindication and revenge home for himself and his people. Almost beautiful if the lot of them weren't the bastard children of Maggie Thatcher.

England also gets the tourney award for best named player. I mean, Nicky Butt sounds like the moniker of a male porn star...
Requiem for Les Bleus
All Bets Are Off!
England-Argentina: It's Anybody's Cup
France-Uruguay: Adieu, Les Bleus?
Team USA: Who Knew?
Ave, Korea!
England Sticks to a Sad Script
Europe vs. Africa