Football Tragic - NZ

Chatham Cup Update

2010-07-26T22:01:00.008+12:00

It was a full blooded Cup Derby at Farrington Park on Sunday with three red cards and plenty of handbags drawn at five paces- My favourite piece of childish churlishness was when a Miramar Striker stomped the United Keeper's hat into the mud after a penalty box entanglement. Not the best advert for Fair play for my Two year old's first game, but great entertainment for the adults. Miro didn't seem to care though. Although the actual score was 3-1 to the home side, eliminating Wellington United from a great 2010 cup run, as far as Miro was concerned the real score was:
Packet of Chippies 2-Lemonade 1

Chatham Cup Fever

2010-07-25T08:39:00.011+12:00

The best way to describe the come down after a four week orgy of back to back televised sport is an enveloping ennui. World Cup fever, for what it was worth in the end after the shock elimination of dark horse New Zealand, has dissipated. The heroes' parade has come and gone and the ticker tape is wrapped in the gills of a harbour floor Gurnard. The Boca Juinors too came and went, playing like, well, Juniors, whereas the Phoenix put on a competent display in the wind tunnel atmosphere of the Wellington Stadium. It is quite interesting to see visiting teams struggle to come to terms with the intense wind effects of the Stadium.

Preseason friendly or not the Blue and Gold scalp of Boca Juniors is an impressive one for the Wellington Phoenix, and must be a boost for their confidence ahead of the A-League season.

But it is with the greatest expectation since the World Cup final's hooplah died down that I am heading along to a local park today to catch my club side Wellington United take on local rivals Miramar Rangers in a Chatham Cup Quarter Final derby. A call was put out to our club members to paint the Miramar ground Orange, and thats what we'll be doing, wearing our own Salmon football tops along to support our First team in a rare Quarter final appearance.

It will be my son's first time at a football match as an occasion, he has been to plenty of games at our local Newtown Park, but this is his first destination game- complete with Orange jumper, face paint and sausage sizzle. Result to follow.

Breaking News!

2010-07-12T09:24:00.003+12:00

New Zealand are the only undefeated team at South Africa 2010!

Oh, and in other news Spain win World Cup. Meh.

More cockeyed blather to follow later...

The Tragics' Final

2010-07-11T09:04:00.004+12:00

Germany won the Third Place Play off, beating Uruguay 3-2. Although people say that it is the game that nonone wants to play, there seemed to be no shortage of motivation from both teams. The last three installments of this so called meaningless game have produced highly entertaining matches.

It was end to end stuff, and if this had been the actual World Cup Final then it would be remembered as a classic; a lead which see-sawed back and forth, Forlan's awesome downward volley and his free kick which was the last act of the game, hitting the post to deny Uruguay extra time.

It was shame in some ways that Miroslav Klose was injured and couldn't add to his talley, although not many people wanted him to surpass Ronaldo as all time leading World Cup goal scorer. It was also fitting that Suarez, who was booed by the African fans everyime he touched the ball, failed to score- his World Cup will be shoruded in infamy. His role as provider summed up by the dive at the death which set Forlan up for his last gasp free kick. (OK, to be fair it did look like a foul, but Suarez milked it for all it was worth.)

Well done Germany, with such a young squad surely the future looks bright for Deutschland, and a begrudging respect to Uruguay who were the best of the South Amercians by a long shot, resilient and tenacious until the end.

Raging Bulls & Octopuses

2010-07-09T20:19:00.013+12:00

The 2010 World Cup Final will be competed by Spain and Netherlands; two countries which have never lofted that glittering prize, so a new name will be added to the illustrious list of World Champions.

For all their calm and patient build up against Germany in the semi-final, it was the raging bull Carlos Puyol, with a route one Iberian Express header into the back of the net from a corner which finally sealed it.

It's a shame that Germany won't be contending the final against the Netherlands, given the history those two countries have both on the field and off. But Spain vs. Netherlands is in many ways a neutral's dream. Two exciting, attacking, teams who like to push the ball around.

There is an adage, much used in Rugby League, that you must lose a final to win a final. Meaning that you must go to the pinnacle and experience the pain of defeat to understand what it takes to win it. The phrase does not hold much water for the Football World Cup; England, France and Argentina all won it at the first time of asking. But I still think does hold some truth and that the languid Spanish will be beaten by the Dutch, who can draw on the collective memory of the lost opportunities in 1974 and 1978 to spur them on.

The Spanish game may be technically adept but how often do the intricate movements come to naught? How hard do they work for such little reward in front of goal? Think of their young striker Pedro, through one on one against Germany in the semi-final, with Torres unmarked to his left. Poor Pedro could not even fashion a shot on goal- compare this to the free scoring and more direct Dutch who have managed to score all manner of fluky, freaky goals. Quite frankly, it doesn't matter how many passes you string together if you cannot bulge the old onion bag.

So yes, I think the Dutch will take the Cup. Although picking this one is a fool's game really. But since my own club, Wellington United, is allied to the Dutch settlers of Wellington I'll be an Orange man for the day. I am going against the Oracle however, since the famous Cephalod commentator Paul the Octopus fancies salsa over mayonnaise with his French Fries. At least a parakeet called Mani agrees with me. This truly has been a bizarre World Cup.

Uruguay 2- Netherlands 3

2010-07-07T09:32:00.003+12:00

Netherlands edged out Uruguay 3-2 although the score does not reflect the Dutch dominance. Arjen Robben could have had a hat trick and put the game to bed long before Maximiliano Pereira almost broke Dutch hearts with a late, late goal. The referee didn't seem to want the game to end, blowing up some late fouls for both teams which allowed Uruguay to pump some long balls into the box and almost steal it. They showed tremendous fight, like a shark on the line they twisted and turned as the dreaeded daylight loomed. Still I am well pleased that Suarez will now miss out on a World Cup Final appearance, just deserts for his cheating ways.

Netherlands are playing fantastically well and deserve to be in their first final since 1978. Whoever they play, Spain or Germany, it will be a cracker.

Uruguay vs Netherlands -take one

2010-07-07T06:27:00.005+12:00

6.30am with my 2 year old son, trying to tell him that we will not be watching Playhouse Disney cos daddy has a very important Soccer game to watch.

As Diego Forlan lines up in the tunnel Miro says: "That's Captain Feathersword"

Whatever it takes to get you through this Miro, whatever it takes.

At half time its 1-1 after two of the best long range goals of the tournament so far.

More to follow. C'mon Oranje!

Winning Ugly

2010-07-06T20:38:00.011+12:00

In direct violation of the unwritten laws of watching football, I thought I'd get away with not hearing the results for the Quarter finals and would be able to watch them at my leisure as if they were live.

My family had upped sticks and headed to Glenburn, a remote Wairarapa Homestead to celebrate a significant birthday on Quarterfinal weekend- how inconvenient that someone was born in the months of June & July! September through to November should be sacrosanct for nookie, lest a nine month return impinge upon the Mondial! But I jest, it was a lovely break from reality being out where no Sky TV could reach me - a rural holiday from the World Cup and all its attendant media. I had it all planned out to catch up on the games though with the help of my family, who have recordable TV. Upon returning to civilisation I eschewed all news reports, and I was all geared and ready to watch all four Quarter finals in ignorance of the outcomes. But I was foiled in the most unlikely of ways- dropping my son at Daycare I overheard one of the teachers tell a German daddy, an 'oompah papa' if you will, that she thought Germany would win the World Cup. Alas I now knew the result of the one game I cared the most about and thought I was the most unsure of the result.

It made a mockery of my efforts to remove myself from the World Cup. When the World Cup is on everyone is a commentator and you cannot escape the punditry. Better to be a social leper or fashion a hairshirt with bristles which spell out: "Telleth me not the score!" than to try and blithely escape the blanket of Football.

As it turned out the Germany- Argentina clash was the most one sided out of all the Quarter finals, and all four games held surprises and upsets. 8 hours of high drama awaited me.

So a quick recap:

The Netherlands finally clicked and bet Brazil 2-1. I said it in a previous post For all their skill and shuffle the Brazilians were profligate. It wasn't a classic match but had enough in it to be exciting.

More exciting was Argentina losing 4-0 to Germany. Who could have predicted that? A rematch of 1986 and 1990, but this time the Deutschland Steam Roller steampunked the Albiceleste back to Sud America. Miroslav Klose scored with two sitters to move within one goal of being the equal highest World Cup goalscorer of all time (Equal with Ronaldo-Brazil). Germany have now belted 8 goals in their last two games; if the World Cup is about momentum and self belief then someone better start etching their name on the trophy now.

Less emphatic but equally as thrilling, in the second half at least, was Paraguay being dumped out by Spain. Three unconverted penalties within three minutes to keep the scores level before David Villa hit the ball off the post with 7 minutes to go. Even then Roque Santa Cruz could have snatched it at the very end but shot straight at Casillas. Spain looked unconvincing despite their metronomic precision with the pass.

But the most drama was reserved for the game which I originally cared the least about-Uruguay vs. Ghana. I knew I wanted Ghana to win to keep African hopes alive, but apart from that I didn't expect much from this game and the first 30 minutes were unspectacular- One way traffic from Uruguay as Ghana failed to settle. But then with 15 seconds to go before half time Sulley Muntari picked the ball up 30 yards out form the Uruguay goal and sort of meandered his way infield before unleashing a stinging daisy cutter which swerved away from the lunging keeper's hands and into the goal. It was a sensational goal, and a great time to score since Ghana had no riposte.

Diego Forlan equalised with a free kick after the break and so to extra time at 1-1.
With the clock ticking down and the tie heading towards penalties Ghana got a corner kick. From the scramble they almost scored but Suarez kicked the ball off the line, the rebound fell again to Ghana and a header went goalward again, straight to Suarez. Instinctively, if your instincts are to cheat, Suarez pushed the ball back off the line with both hands into the arms of his keeper. Chaos! The referee sends him off and Gyan lines up the penalty knowing that if he scores Ghana are through into the World Cup Semifinal. He misses. Ghana lose the penalty shoot out (Gyan scored in that though) and Suarez is a hero, although he is now banned from the semifinal against Netherlands tomorrow.

Suarez called his act the new 'hand of god' in reference to Maradona. It was no such thing, lacking all the subtlety of Maradona's cheekiness.

For me Suarez is the villain of the cup. He had already cheated one African team, his swan dive against South Africa got their keeper sent off and earned Uruguay cheap penalty. But what really gets me is the arbitrariness of decision making at this level. When I first saw the incident I thought the ball had crossed over the line, since Suarez was inside the goal. It didn’t, but when you think that a referee and linesman conspired to disallow a perfectly legitimate goal with their myopia (Eng V Ger) how come they cannot develop selective myopia here? Would anyone have complained if the ref had blown a goal under the pretence that he saw the ball cross the line? It shows that refereeing is far too conservative- preservation of the goal line is the priority, lest that holy boundary be desecrated and a non-goal awarded. However a shift of mindset needs to be undertaken, like with offside calls, the benefit of doubt should go with the attacking team.

However Ghana were their own worst enemies really, they were given the chance to take instant revenge and they failed- had they scored then Suarez would be a villain twice over.

You can't really blame him- cheating and gamesmanship are so ingrained in football culture, the desire to win at all costs has been driven into players from such a young age. It shows how far, or perhaps how little, the game has come since Diego's handball in 1986.

So despite the ethics of it Suarez is a hero and Ghana are out- For me it forces my hand as a neutral. I now want Netherlands to beat Uruguay, and although I'd love to see Spain snap out of their siesta I think the Germans are locked into a winning pattern.

It was a great round of games- three beautiful wins and one ugly one, courtesy of Luis "Ugly Betty" Suarez.

Sepp Blatter in Commonsense shock!

2010-06-30T09:13:00.006+12:00

The end of days must surely be nigh!

FIFA president Sepp Blatter has apologised for refereeing mistakes that have blighted the World Cup and says football's governing body will look again at introducing goal-line video technology.

England and Mexico were the victims of blatant mistakes in second-round matches that both eventually lost.

Mr Blatter, who has opposed the technology for years, said on Tuesday technology such as the Hawk-Eye system used in tennis and cricket should be re-examined to determine if the ball had crossed the line or not for a goal.

“It is obvious that after the experiences so far at this World Cup it would be a nonsense not to re-open the file on goalline technology.” the FIFA president said at a press conference today.

However he again ruled out using video replays to help officials with decisions, such as offsides.

In Sunday's match between England and Germany, a shot from England midfielder Frank Lampard struck the bar and bounced down well over the line. The goal was not given and Germany went on to win the second round match 4-1.

Later in the day, Argentina scored from an offside position against Mexico in a match they won 3-1.

Business Time

2010-06-29T20:38:00.007+12:00

The All Whites have mostly returned to their heroes' homecomings. Only one of 6 undefeated teams to be eliminated in World Cup history. What a record. Undefeated but unneeded at the business end of the cup.

Watching the round of 16 you can see the energy and purpose that is needed to compete at this level, something that France, Italy, New Zealand, and even England, amongst others lacked. The games are played at a raw pace now, each team 90 minutes from oblivion and scorn, or one goal from glory. It is now a totally different tournament all together, a totally different level, the air as rarified and thin as the high veldt itself.

The winner will be the team that wants it most and has the energy to match the desire, lungs burning as the clock ticks on.

Sentimentally I want Ghana to do well- African soil should equate to African success- if only the 'simplest game' was that simple. I think the World Champion will be the winner of the Germany-Argentina Quarter final. I can't wait to see the stoic nihilism of Joachim Loew versus the haywire exuberance of Maradona, the technical area his own little serfdom, the Fourth official his personal toy and private tormentor. This 80's revival is the final before the final, and whoever triumphs should push past Brazil, who were wasteful against Chile this morning. Sure, they scored three nice goals but their stars were selfish and squandered many more chances. When they come up against a quality side those chances will need to be taken.

The wheat has been seperated, and though the All Whites were chuffed to compete, wheat they are not. Although the land of the long white cloud may now be known internationally for something other than Flight of the Conchords, Jonah Lomu (a tongan!) and Lord of the Rings, now we will be known as a plucky football team who punched above their weight on the greatest stage.

It's business time in South Africa, but the kiwis are needed no more. They can put away the team building exercise t-shirts, and get back to business with the WAGS.

Final Standings for the eliminated 16

2010-06-26T11:18:00.003+12:00

Final standings for teams eliminated so far

Based on points, then Goal Diff, then Goals For (as per Fifa)

32 Korea DPR
31 Cameroon
30 Honduras
29 France
28 Algeria
27 Nigeria
26 Italy
25 Greece
24 Denmark
23 Serbia
22 New Zealand
21 Australia
20 South Africa
19 Switzerland
18 Slovenia
17 Ivory Coast

Ipso Facto, we are better than Italy...

Italy vs New Zealand- In a Hazy Hindsight

2010-06-23T19:30:00.000+12:00

Wow. It is an amazing time to be a football fan in New Zealand. For ths first time I know what it is like to follow a team in the World Cup, to really follow them, and not have a ho hum neutral reaction when they lose, or have a harsh penalty given against them.

I think I am still too tired, both mentally and physically to give a really good impression of my thoughts about this but I need to comment, to get out of my head and into the blogoverse my thoughts about the other night, no matter how scattered and disjointed.

To summarise: New Zealand, our football team, ranked 78th in the world, held Italy, the World Champions, currently ranked 4th, to a one-all draw in a must win World Cup group game, after leading in the 7th minute and almost sneaking the win with only their third shot of the night in the 83rd minute.

Wow.

When Andy Barron came on I had an even bigger upswelling of pride. Barron is an amateur footballer from my local National Football Championship Franchise Team Wellington- A local boy made good footing it with the overpaid Italian ponces on the world stage.

I also had to chuckle a little because when the All Whites were substitued in the second half they dawdled and stalled, in direct violation of my complaint in a previous post except this time I loved the fact that our lads' tactics ate up the clock. At one point Vicelich, I think, even shook the ref's hand!

I think the fact that Italy had to resort to the tried and true method acting to con the ref speaks volumes for the resistance that they met, and the kiwi lads will be a little bit wiser for it. It shows how far public expectation has come that we are arguing over a dubious penalty call which robbed us of three points against Italy rather than counting our blessings that the post, Paston and the clock saved us from the full onslaught of Italian wrath. So New Zealand were outplayed, out shot, out cornered, but the history books will now have a little D for draw next to that game, and New Zealand will be more than a curious little footnote in the history of the world Cup.

When you see some of the limp and uninspired efforts put in by some of the more fancied teams (England and France, I'm pointing my finger at you) the All Whites must seem like a breath of fresh air in a fairly stale tournament. They are visibly enjoying the moment, playing with passion and pride. Long may it last.

I think Russell over at No Punts Intended was already starting his Italian research ahead of the game- he is stuck with us for at least one more game. I sent him a reaction but he has yet to post it. While we await Paraguay, here are some highlights, courtesy of Russian website.

Italy Held by Gallant All Whites

2010-06-21T09:25:00.006+12:00

An unbelievable result over night in Nelspruit!
Italy 1- New Zealand 1, after an early Shane Smeltz poach was cancelled out by a dubious penalty. New Zealand then hung on with some desperate, but well drilled defence.

This has been labelled the biggest shock of the 2010 World Cup so far. Imagine the reaction if Chris Wood's late shot had sneaked in the post to give the all Whites the win!

More to follow from me later today but if you want to know more just click on any sports website around the globe for reactions.

Good on you New Zealand. Fantastic result

Italy v New Zealand -Preview

2010-06-20T19:33:00.000+12:00

Ricki Herbert has named an unchanged starting line up for tonight's Group F dust up between the Champions of Oceania; the largest continent in terms of square miles, and the Champions of the measly World.

But seriously, what do we realistically expect?

Before the injury time heroics of Rustenburg I might have said an honourable, but sound, defeat. Maybe 2-0. Now I feel we have a chance. A chance to sneak a draw that is. Even a hopeless optimist like me finds it hard to believe that NZ can get up and beat the four time world Champions. But stranger things have happened.

In a friendly before last year's Confederations Cup New Zealand went into the lead four times against Italy, before losing 4-3. There are very few teams who put 3 goals past the catenaccio, 'sliding bolt defence', of Italy. yes, it was meaningless warm up game, and yes, Italy were essentially a B-team, but New Zealand were missing key players Fallon and Nelsen that day, and new found first teamers Reid and Smith were still yet to be born. In that game the aerial threat from set pieces was New Zealand's main weapon as it will be again tonight.

Italy were complacent that day and New Zealand caught them napping. I assure you Italy will be more wary this time. That in itself is a credit to New Zealand and Oceania Football.

An Edinburgh Blogger, Russell, approached the Yellow Fever fan's forum asking for more information about NZ Football. It seems that he is playing a game on his No Punts Intended Blog. The game is called 'Winner stays on' where he chooses a team to support and then switches to whoever defeats them, since being Scottish, he has no team to support in South Africa. Russell has decided to start with NZ-a nice touch since NZ's two goals against Scotland in 1982 contributed towards Scotland's early exit. I answered Russell's call for help and he published my sleep deprived thumbnail sketch of New Zealand football.

Let's hope that Russell is still saying kia ora to New Zealand tomorrow, after we say arivaderchi to the Italian mob.

New Zealand team to play Italy:

Mark Paston (Keeper)

Winston Reid, Ryan Nelsen, Tommy Smith (Defenders)

Ivan Vicelich, Simon Elliott, Leo Bertos, Tony Lochhead (Midfielders)

Shane Smeltz, Rory Fallon, Chris Killen (Strikers)

Here is something to watch while you wait for KO, the last and only time we met the Azzuri:

Winston loves Big Brother

2010-06-20T10:04:00.001+12:00

All Whites' goal hero Winston Reid is in foul trouble, to use the American parlance, ahead of tonight's encounter with World Champs Italy. Already on one yellow card, if the tough tackling youngster picks up another he'll miss the final match against Paraguay.

What was Winston's misdemeanour? He celebrated the first NZ goal at a World Cup in 28 years by taking his shirt off. Call out the Thought Police, send him to the Ministry of Love, such crimes require swift punishment.

Look at Winston Reid’s face in the picture above. Does he look like he is deliberately and maliciously thinking “I might waste a precious few seconds here when I have to put my top back on, maybe even a few more if I make a beeline to those supporters over there!” Not a single malicious thought would have crossed his mind, he is simply reacting spontaneously to the buzz of scoring; something that Fifa propaganda says the game should be about.

It's time Fifa changed this directive. I won't call it a law because it is not explicitly stated in the laws of the game.

A directive is when Fifa sits down the officials ahead of a tournament and agree what they are going to focus on in terms of interpreting the laws. It might be to stamp down on diving, or infringing on free kicks. Its a decision to interpret a law in a particular way, which is then set in stone, sometimes for that tournament alone, sometimes it last beyond the tournament. For years now the directive has been that whenever a player takes his shirt off after scoring a goal then that player shall receive a yellow card. But what Law does this directive relate to?

It relates to Law 12- Fouls and Misconduct:

A player is cautioned and shown the yellow card if he commits any of the following seven offences:

• unsporting behaviour
• dissent by word or action
• persistent infringement of the Laws of the Game
• delaying the restart of play
• failure to respect the required distance when play is restarted with a corner kick, free kick or throw-in
• entering or re-entering the field of play without the referee’s permission
• deliberately leaving the field of play without the referee’s permission

It would seem then that taking ones shirt of is either: Unsporting behaviour or delaying the restart of play.

If it's unsporting behaviour then why is so much joy generated from the action? Why is the replay of a player taking his shirt off used over and over in highlights reels. Unless the player is deliberately inciting the opposition players or fans, or revealing an offensive or inappropriate slogan on a T-Shirt underneath it is not unsporting to celebrate a goal by taking your shirt off. In the game where Reid picked up his card the Slovakian defenders time and time again kicked out at playmaker Simon Elliot in a fairly cynical and blatant attempt to slow the play, or even hurt him. Only one of these challenges picked up a yellow card. Elliot was visibly hurt by the attention he received. Who was hurt by Winston's actions? Why was Winston put on a par with the cynical deeds of Slovakia? Why does Fifa use images of players celebrating, of fans celebrating and then punish them for doing so?

So then if its not unsporting behaviour it must be delaying the restart of play! Yet it took less than a minute to restart the game after Winston Reid's goal and the referee added another 20 seconds on for good measure. This is no more than normal for a team who score a late goal and then falls in a heap on the scorer. An orchestrated goal celebration, such as the likes of the Diski Dance which started the tournament takes much longer. Would Fifa have dared sanction the jabulani of Tshabalala and his team mates, as they celebrated South Africa 2010's opening goal?

I agree that deliberate time wasting after a goal, revealing political slogans on T-Shirts or inciting violence by inciting the crowd deserve to be carded and stamped out, but not something as harmless as showing of your six pack.

If Fifa were to stamp out any aspect of the game which infuriates in its cynicism it is the habit of substituted players from a team that is in the lead purposefully dawdling off the pitch to waste time. They shake the referee's hand, cross themselves, wave to the crowd, pull out a prayer matt and face Mecca- anything to gobble up a few more seconds. There should be a time out rule as in Cricket- If it takes a fully fit player longer than 30 second say to leave the pitch then the substitution should be ruled out. Why Fifa punishes one thing, while letting another slide is beyond me.

One argument that would persuade Sepp Blatter to repeal the directive is that watching muscular men run towards a camera is surely a good thing for the ladies. His mind definitely thinks like that already. Remember that Blatter is the person who recommended that Women Footballers wear shorter shorts. So C'mon Sepp, let the ladies get their fix, and let the lads celebrate their goals- Let slip the shirts!

Anyway, I doubt Winston is too worried. A Facebook group has been set up to help him the pay off the 5,000 Swiss Franc fine, and should he get up and score the winner against Italy tonight I hope he throws caution, and his shirt, to the wind.

World Refugee Day 2010- An Invitation

2010-06-19T18:19:00.007+12:00

Time for something unrelated to the hype of South Africa 2010, something a little more grass roots.

Tomorrow (June 20) is World Refugee Day.

It's a good time to think about the plight of these good people, and the paths they have taken to come here. Its also a time to think about the unifying bond of football as the global language. In a totally selfish way imagine what the All Whites of the future will look like once the united colours of the world join their ranks. Here is one such story. Daniel Gebreezgiher is a young Sudanese refugee, who has fought the odds to get a trial at Leeds United, he is also training with the Phoenix. He was playing for Wellington United in the Central League last year. Daniel has already come so far. When he was living in Sudan he witnessed a lot of violence, and his father was jailed for his poltitical views. Says Daniel: 'It was a very dangerous place. I saw people get beaten up all the time, sometimes just for their religion ... I got beaten up for being Christian. I just had to take it like a man.'

I wish him all the best, and remember if it doesn't work out at Leeds or the Phoenix the doors to Wellington United are always open! In fact thats why we concede so many goals...

To commemorate World Refugee Day in Wellington, Refugee Services in association with a myriad of like minded partners including Wellington United AFC are putting on a football fiesta at Newtown Park. I have somehow managed to, once again, wangle my way into the starting line up for the Wellington Invitational XI, along with Sami Yusif, the goal keeper from my team. Sami is an Assyrian refugee who along with his family has made a new home in Wellington.

I invite anyone reading this from Wellington to come down to Newtown Park tomorrow to join in the festivities. Here are the full details:

World Refugee Day Celebration- Sunday 20 June, Newtown Park, Wellington

Refugee Communities from all over Wellington, the Hutt Valley and Porirua have joined with Rotary Club of Wellington, Wellington City Council and Refugee Services Aotearoa New Zealand to plan a fantastic series of events for World Refugee Day 2010!

Join us this Sunday, 20 June, at Wellington’s Newtown Park and Mt. Albert Park for a wonderful cultural experience with two exciting football matches, traditional music and dance, delicious food cooked by the communities, and a tree planting with Rotary Club of Wellington.

Full Programme

10:30am Cultural Procession

11:00am Kick-off Football Match (Asia/America VS Africa)

12:30pm 2nd Football Match (Refugee All-Stars VS Wellington Invitational XI)

12:15pm Delicious traditional food for sale

1:15pm Football Awards Ceremony, cultural music and dance, story-telling

2:30pm Tree-planting with Rotary Club of Wellington at Mt. Albert Park

If you have any questions please contact Teresa Bass, see below.

Teresa Bass

Refugee Services

Aotearoa NZ

Phone: 04 805 0343

E-mail: Teresa.Bass@refugeeservices.org.nz

The New Vuvuzela?

2010-06-17T19:17:00.011+12:00

People keep asking me who is going to win the World Cup. I smile and think, "well if I knew that I wouldn't be here, I'd be down the betting shop taking a punt on race ten at Trentham wouldn't I?" But of course I'm a football ambassador of sorts so I say "oh you know, Brazil will probably be there at the end, and Spain are favourites of course." However both of those teams have had rather uninspired starts,expecially Spain who were upset 1-0 by traditional flat-liners Switzerland this morning. So now Im tipping a Germany-Switzerland final. The Swiss fans will blow the South Africans away with their traditional uber vuvuzelas:

And speaking of Vuvuzelas, has anyone else noticed how annoying they are or am I the only one? Oh, you have? Along with every other blogger, forummer & journo who must by now be painting the V back on their keyboard. Just buy some earplugs and get over it already!

New Zealand vs. Slovakia- 1-1 (Result)

2010-06-16T01:26:00.008+12:00

Well. I was composing a very different post after 5 minutes of the second half when Vittek ghosted in at the far post to give Slovakia the lead. As my eyelids drooped alongside my morale I was thinking about "New Zealand acquits themselves well, but lack pace and class to finish, an honourable defeat etc etc."

The only real chance came when Lochead played in Smeltz, who snatched at the header and put it wide with the whole goal to aim at.

New Zealand looked bereft of ideas and were drifitng out of the game and the tounament as the fourth official held up 3 minutes of stoppage time.

And then in the 93rd minute Winston Reid, outstanding for so much of the game on defence, put away a Shane Smeltz cross to level the scores.

Pandemonium. New Zealand's first ever point at a Fifa World Cup- Tied on Points wiht Italy, the World Champions.

I had to break out the rescue remedy to calm down enough to write this. Thank god for Reid the Danish Maori, well done boys- You have done us proud!

New Zealand vs. Slovakia- 0-0 at Half Time

2010-06-16T00:17:00.004+12:00

Well, that was intense.

New Zealand started very strongly and fashioned a few chances, the best a header from Killen which went straight to their keeper. Smeltz had a great chance from a Lochead pass, but it hit the side netting. Once Slovakia found their feet they began to look very dangerous and some nervy moments from Paston in goal meant that New Zealand were relieved when the half time whistle went.

This is very much a game for the taking for New Zealand. They just need to stay organised in defence and Bertos and Elliot need to start putting a bit more quality on the dead ball.

Keep believing.

Game on!

2010-06-15T23:05:00.006+12:00

The lads are warming up in Rustenburg:

This pic loaded live from Stadium to Yellow Fever forum, thanks to 2nd Best!

NZ's music channel C4 just started its Whats the theme -C'mon All Whites' with Another one Bites the Dust! by Queen.

You hear that Slovakia? We are channeling the Zanzibar magician! Freddie M and his heavenly vuvuzuela are blowing from on high to spur us on! He had a 'tache like Stevie S- it is written in the stars in our eyes! We brushed aside New Caledonia, Vanuatu, Bahrain, Serbia and the NZFC all stars and now we are coming for you, you half a country! Do you hear me Slovakia?! Your boys will take one hell of a beating!

Erm, think I need a cup of tea and a lie down right about now.

Four Hours to Go

2010-06-15T19:32:00.006+12:00

Just four hours until New Zealand play Slovakia. Our first game at a World Cup Finals since 1982.

Injured vice-captain Tim Brown did not recover from his shoulder surgery in time, and is now aiming to make the Italy game.

Here is the team Ricki Herbert has chosen to take the field in his tried and tested 3-4-3 formation:

Mark Paston (Keeper)

Winston Reid, Ryan Nelsen, Tommy Smith (Defenders)

Ivan Vicelich, Simon Elliott, Leo Bertos, Tony Lochhead (Midfielders)

Shane Smeltz, Rory Fallon, Chris Killen (Strikers)

C'mon lads! Your nation is behind you & we expect you to give it everything you have got!

& In Other News

2010-06-15T09:17:00.006+12:00

World Champions Italy could only manage a 1-1 draw against Paraguay in New Zealand's Group F opener this morning.

The result is seen by some Kiwi pundits as being bad for the All Whites, since the stalemate will only spur Italy and Paraguay on to thrash New Zealand to make up for not picking up early points.

I think that is a defeatist type of attitude, even if it is realistic. The result means that there is clear air to be had at the of the group should New Zealand pull of a shock win over Slovakia tonight. It also means that if they draw then the group is wide open for anyone to sneak in. The fans must keep believing; we are not there to make up the numbers, we have a right to be there, and until we are knocked out we are still in with a chance, no matter how improbable. Even the stunned Socceroo fans must pick themselves up and dust themselves off after the thumping at the hands of a dynamic Germany. Mental fortitude and resilience is needed by the fans wathcing a World Cup, as much as the players.

And in other breaking news Football has chosen the World Cup as the time to finally announce that it is gay. Thats right Soccer has come out of the closet. This from The Onion: (Man those guys must have a huge legal budget!)

England vs. U.S.A- English keeping woes continue

2010-06-13T17:05:00.003+12:00

One of the most anticipated games of South Africa 2010 was this morning's Group C opener between England and USA. I had a feeling that USA might get up for it and repeat the heroics of their only other game against England in a World Cup.

When English Captain Stevie Gerrard waltzed through the US defence to score after only four minutes I was glad I hadn't taken a punt on USA to pull off an upset. However at 40 minutes a relatively harmless Clint Dempsey shot was fumbled into the net by the hapless English keeper Robert Green.

It used to be that English keepers were the touchstone for international keepers. Calm, strong and unflappable. As 'safe as the Banks of England' they would say, referring to 1966 stopper Gordon Banks. He was followed by a lineage of great English custodians such as Ray Clemence and Peter Shilton. (I'll conveniently forget Bonetti, anyway that names sounds more continental than Cotswalds.)

The number one English Number 1 of the 1990s and early noughties, David Seaman, was known as 'Safe Hands.' But it was Seaman's poor positioning against Brazil in the 2002 World Cup Quarter final allowed Ronaldhino to lob him from over 40 yards:
Maybe that blunder by Seaman started the current malaise between the sticks for England. Seaman's immediate replacement was Paul Robinson, who was well known for his errors, and failed spectacuarly against Croatia in a Euro 2008 qualifier, a tournament England failed to reach:

As for Green, there can be no excuse for his lame save which gifted a vital point to the USA, and lost England all three tournament points. The ball did not dip or swerve in flight, it was a tame daisy cutter which he saw early. English coach Fabio Capello (also not from the Cotswalds) must be worried. Green, who has been guilty of letting in soft goals before, is deputised by the tournament's oldest player, David 'Calamity' James. While James has a penchant for the spectacular he is also known for a tendency for the bizarre, and has been cuplable for some very soft goals over his career. Worse, he likes to wander far from his line, fancying himself as a bit of an outfield player. This has been a rich vein for comedy over the years.

Its not really a joke for England however, how did their keeping stocks drop so rapidly? If they want to win the World Cup again they'll need to shore up their stop banks to avert the flood of soft goals.

Here is Robert Green's howler from this morning; Judge for yourself.

2006 & All That

2010-06-11T20:55:00.001+12:00

A Personal History of the World Cup: Part Eight

So we lurch to the end of my reminscence. I have reviewed all eight of the World Cups which have taken place whilst I have been drawing breath. I finished a mere five hours before the ninth installment kicks off. Life for a football tragic is measured in four year cycles. When I look back over how much has changed, even since Germany 2006, I am astounded.

Germany 2006 was made even more poignant in Wellington by the fantastic work that the Goethe Insitute did in using the World Cup to bring German culture to the forefront. The Wellington Director,Christoph Mucher was a football fan and he worked tirelessly to add value to the Wellingtonian's World Cup exeprience. Among the many initiatives they ran was a Football film festival. I had the privilege of seeing the mesmerising German George Best film, Football Like Never Before, a meditiative study of red on green. The Institute also built a Torwand, a goal wall, which they drove around Wellington, setting up at festivals, parties and parks.

The Goethe Institute's enthusiasm was contagious, and for the first time ever I felt I could follow Germany in a World Cup, such was their positivity, such was their optimism. I felt Deutschland's collective sigh of relief and joy when Phillip Lahm collected the ball on the left hand side in the first game against Costa Rica and fired home a goal that deserved to be the first in a World Cup:

Argentina were another revelation. Their fluid passing, and 'total football' was exemplified by the team goal to end all team goals, a series of 26 passes to bamboozle Serbia.

They also produced my favourite goal of the tournament, a Maxi Rodriguez cracker to knock Mexico out of the cup in the second round:

My favourite game was the third place play-off. As in the 2002 finals this so called dead rubber involved the hosts, and was a competitive and exciting match. Unlike in 2002 the hosts got up to win, Germany beating Portugal 3-2 to take the Bronze.

The final will be remembered for an act of insanity which will unfortunately outlast the result for many people. Yes, Italy won the trophy, beating France on penalties after a 1-1 draw. But the 2006 World Cup final will be remembered as the Headbutt Final:

Zidane was sent off in disgrace. He had already scored from the penalty spot during the game, and no doubt would have stepped up again in the shootout, so you could argue that his brain explosion cost France the Coup De Monde.

There you have it; The World Cup from my own very subjective perspective.

Penalties, tears, broken bones, cracking goals and outrageous tantrums- bring on South Africa 2010!

2002 & All That

2010-06-10T19:02:00.004+12:00

A Personal History of the World Cup: Part Seven

Between 1998 and 2002 I fell headlong into the role of a bona fide football tragic. I had travelled to the UK and played park football in Regents Park, London and the Meadows, Edinburgh. I had worked behind the scenes at Ashton Gate, Bristol and Stamford Bridge, Chelsea. I had played Sunday League for the infamous Easton Cowboys. My partner and I had also backpacked around Spain and Portugal during Euro 2000. Eating bocadillas and drinking La Rioja in heaving bodegas, watching the boyish Nuno Gomes charm his way into Portuguese hearts, and Trezeguet snatch the Euro and World Cup double for France with a golden goal against Italy. When I returned to Wellington I rejoined the park football at Nairn Park and it was there that I recruited into a social team; Wellington United Salmon.

So when Korea-Japan 02 finally hoved into view I was ready for my next fix of World Cup fever.

I can't remember anticipating an opening game of a tournament quite as much as this. France, the European and World Champs, up against their colonial subjects Senegal. France were expected to dial it in and pick up the three points. Senegal had other ideas. A man with the implausible name of Papa Bouba Diop scrambled the ball over the line to give Senegal a famous victory, and then he danced a merry jig at the corner flag, one of my favourite goal celebrations of all time. France went on to be eliminated from the Cup without scoring a goal- the worst title defense ever.

This was the World Cup of the underdog- which was great for a neutral from an underdog footballing nation. Senegal, USA, South Korea, Turkey,& Japan all defied the odds and escaped their groups. Amazingly South Korea and Turkey were one game away from the World Cup final- a scenario most punters would scarcely have dreamed of.

But it was Senegal which produced the move of the tournament. An amazingly fluid counter attack against Denmark. To me this is the most perfect team goal. (It begins at 20secs on this video):

For me the final was bit of a let down- yes there was the story of redemption for the buck toothed Ronaldo, who played so poorly in the 1998 final, and yet scored a brace to beat Germany in the 2002 final and crown Brazil Penta Campeao. But to me the Brazilians were unworthy winners, their reputation as upholders of all that is golden about the game was tarnished by the worst piece of gamesmanship in the very first game:

After that disgraceful act I couldn't cheer for Brazil in the final, nor could I cheer for Germany after years of supporting England.

The Third place play-off between Turkey and South Korea defined the tournament. It was a great game, played in front of a roaring South Korean crowd. Hakan Sukur, the Turkish striker who was expected to fire in this tournament but didn't. (Imagine what Turkey could have achieved with him scoring?) Sukur scored the fastest goal in World Cup history, his only one of the tournament:

1998 & All That

2010-06-10T08:41:00.000+12:00

A Personal History of the World Cup: Part Six

By 1998 I had started to take an interest in football again. While I didn't play in any organised form I had joined the waifs and strays of park football at Wellington's Nairn Street Park.

Actually I think it was Euro 96 that had got me back into the swing of watching football again. I sat in a downtown bar at 7am, the only customer on a Friday morning and drank Cape Cods hoping that the Czech Republic would see off Germany. Instead I saw the first Golden Goal to decide a major tournament and left the pub at 9am in a red haze.

So when France 98 rolled around I associated watching football with party time. Thankfully I lived in a student flat where the residents enjoyed a bit of novelty. We all stayed up late watching game after game. I remember being at a party when the game between Argentina and England came on. I had to hush the party goers and silence the stereo as Beckham lashed out at Simeone in pure spoiled kid petulance. My friends thought that was the epitome of the soccer hollywood, a tap on the ankles and he's over. But in a World Cup knock out match why wouldn't you dive if someone kicks out at you? So once again a bit of gamesmanship from a Diego sunk England. Actually thats not quite right, since it was England's poor form from the penalty spot which really sent them back across the Channel early.

I also remember the stunning goal from Begrkamp which sent Argentina crashing out of the Cup. The calm finish and delicate touch was divine, to see it live on TV was a special World Cup moment:

I watched the first half of the final at home and then skateboarded down hill into town. The French Embassy in their prescience had booked out the Town Hall and erected ahuge screen. Here I watched Emmanuel Petit (He's blond, he's quick, his name's a porno flick, Emmanuel! Emmanuel! as the Arsenal fans would chant) power through the Brazilian defence to score France's third goal and send the Town Hall into ecstasy.

Afterwards I played football for hours in the adjoining Civic Square with joyous French people who weren't going to bother with work and then headed up to Nairn Park for a kickabout. I was well and truly hooked again.

Here are all three of France's goals in the final:

A Matter of Life and Death

2010-06-08T20:38:00.015+12:00

Roll out the hooplah and profligacy, the pageantry and waste! The World Cup is about to begin. Many people in the world will begin to wonder, what's the big deal? Why so much press, why so much jabber?

Well, the simple answer is that, despite the hype and the self-aggrandisement from Sepp Blatter and FIFA, the powers who 'own' the World Cup brand, Football is a global phenomena, the most important and pervasive pastime of our time . Football is the funnel and the fantasy for the hopes of so many impoverished people. In a way it is sad that football has taken on this role; Why not poetry? Why not Opera? Why not gardening? In a way it is also beautiful that football is the world's placebo; for FIFA may own the World Cup brand but they do not own every clay pitch nor every ragged ball upon the globe. It is still the people's game. (Besides those who have no time for the extravagance of literature, nor the frivolousness of art for its own sake, and those who till the soil for work not pleasure still find time to follow the fortune of The Selection.)

So as the vetted stories roll of the tickers it will be worthwhile looking beyond the sanctioned scripts. Take for example this story about New Zealand's disrupted first training session. It seems the scouts did not do their job properly since the All Whites' floodlit training pitch is surrounded by thousands of households which burn coal for their cookers. The smoke was so thick that New Zealand had to cut short their first hit out for fear of lung damage. Surely a big disappointment for Ricki Herbert, but not too serious. There'll be another place, another time for training. The story aired here as the lead story in the evening sports round up, and so it should. The irony is that for the thousands of people who live in that township the very real danger of cooking with carcenogenic coal smoke will not go away when the World Cup ends.

Likewise how is a football fan to interpret the shameful story of South African poor being shepherded into temporary housing, reminiscent of the District 9 refugee camps, to 'clean up' the country ahead of international media and diplomats arriving. The slogan Homes, not Games, used by critics of the Vancouver Winter Olympics is admirable but ultimately futile. The poor will no doubt want both, since they have waited years to see Bafana, Bafana back in the spotlight.

The real hope lies in the fact that the assembled media, sick of being corralled into highly managed mixed-zones may wander far from the FIFA cordons, and beam back some of the real South Africa to the watching world.

Oh yes, Football is important, but the game at the elite level has long been co-opted by political agendas- The Junta used the 1978 World Cup in Argentina to serve its own ends, Mussolini had the Azzurri playing in black shirts instead of blue, the Chilean Junta used their National Stadium as a Prison camp. The temptation for politicians and war mongers to hijack the game is all too prevalant. Will there be another Football War- An encounter where the nomonal tinder is football, but the real fuel is long standing ethnic or dogmatic tension? Will Kim Jong Il use the World Cup as a platform for propaganda; denying his long suffering people even the joy of following their team, a right we all take for granted? Will Obama use the photo ops to divert attention from the horrors unfolding in the Gulf? All that money and energy being channelled into sport when very real environmental and social catastrophes continue to be ignored. How does a football fan compartmentalise that?

There will no doubt be some act of gross charlatanry and cowardice linked to the World Cup, whether some petty despot decides to milk the Cup for glory, or whether some put upon wife takes the full brunt of a husband's fury when his team is eliminated, it is almost inevitable that the World Cup will bring misery to some.

And for all this Football is never spent, there lives the dearest freshness deep down things. Despite the tyranny and terror which may or may not arise the majority of the globe will appear to blithe it come Cup Final day on July 11. Are the poor worried about the threat of war and terror enough to switch the TV off? Not likely, for irreverence is a greater oaf than superstition. And the reverence of the Cup will surely bring a joy which will outweigh the misery.

Football is not a matter of life and death, it is far more serious than that- the World Cup may yet throw more light on the suffering of the world, and help unite people in the understanding that we can all get joy from the simplest game.

Rant over. Game on.

1994 & All That

2010-06-05T10:56:00.000+12:00

A Personal History of the World Cup: Part Five

In 1994 I was 18 years old and football was no longer my raison d'etre. The Rotorua football pathway was not robust enough to sustain kids like me who were not good enough or strong enough for the men's first teams and there wasn't really a league structure in place for youth teams. I still played occasionally for the 1st XI, but we were playing 15th fiddle to the Rugby team and had scant resource or support.

I don't remember much of USA 94, but I suppose I must have kept an eye on it. I remember watching the final between Brazil and Italy, played in the blistering heat of the Pasadena Rose Bowl.

The match finished scoreless and Roberto Baggio, 'The Divine Ponytail,' skied his penalty over the bar to hand Brazil the match:

As one wag has mentioned the 1994 World Cup began and ended with a missed penalty, since Diana Ross fluffed her lines with this kick in the opening ceremony one month earlier:

The irony is that should this happen now the referee could order a retake since Diana's 'Paradinha' stop before the kick has been outlawed for South Africa 2010.

When I think of how the average American would have taken all this hype I am reminded of ths clip from The Simpsons, lampooning a World Cup final where Mexico and Portugal "battle it out to determine [who] the greatest nation on the planet is."

I can just see the US sports fan choking on his corn dog as the two 'superpowers' grind out a 0-0 draw:

1990 & All That

2010-06-04T15:32:00.000+12:00

A Personal History of the World Cup: Part Four
Italia 1990 was a huge milestone in my footballing development, and the first World Cup which I actively followed. Between 1986 and 1990 I began playing Football, first for my School, then a club and then as a Junior Representative for Rotorua City. My debut was in 1989, playing in goal against Thames Valley-proudly wearing the Orange and Black of Rotorua.

When Italia 90 rolled around I was a young football obsessive, and by the end of Italia 90, I was even more obsessed. Which is ironic since Italia 90 is widely believed to be the most boring World Cup tournament of all time with a record low of 2.21 goals per match. Objectively I would concur, subjectively I still love it. Any football tragic will tell you that goals are not the only measure of a game's greatness- blood, sweat and tears count for so much as well, and Italia 90 had plenty of these fluids.

The great names present at Italia 90 was like a roll call in Valhalla; Warriors who were legends once but had since slipped through the veil: Maradonna, Shilton, Lineker, Schillaci, Klinsmann, Hagi; even the oxymoron of a veteran debutant in Roger Milla the Camerounian sensation, who at 38 set the tournament alight with 4 goals and a hot stepping goal celebration.
For so many legends this tournament was their last hurrah.

Strangely the name I remember most is the Argentine keeper Goycochea. He replaced the first choice keeper Nery Pumpido when Pumpido broke his leg against USSR. Goycochea's acrobatics impressed me, but his skills weren't enough to stop West Germany in the final.

I studied the keepers more intently than all other positions, applauding saves over goals everytime. My hero for so many years was the English veteran Shilton, the iron giant who was 'pickpocketed' by the street urchin Diego in 1986. In fact by 1990 I was an England fan through and through, years of collecting Shoot! magazine saw to that. I could name every English Player, but probably couldn't name one current All White, apart from maybe Winton Rufer.

So in effect the tournament ended for me when West Germany knocked England out on penalties. Gazza cried for me as well, lamenting the end of my footballing innocence-the era of mullets and pass backs, of strikers rolling end over end when brushed by the fullback with no sanction from the ref, of a time before girlfriends and watching Saturday morning soccer without a hangover.

I still watched the final, but my 14 year old hormones couldn't hack the 6am wake up call so I asked my parents to videotape it for me. I then had to suffer the groans of indignation coming from the family living room as they watched it live; the 1-0 score line just confirming what my Rugby League loving father already suspected- this soccer lark was as dull as dishwater.

Not for me though, I watched that final over and over again.

Anyway four years later in USA 94 a solitary goal in the final would look positively decadent. And four years later Shilton and England were nowhere to be seen.

Keep on crying Gazza: I'm right behind you:

Tangerine Dreaming

2010-05-30T13:14:00.004+12:00

This may have been lost in all the pre-World Cup hysteria but a grand old club of the English game has made it back into the top flight for the first time since 1971; Blackpool FC have been promoted to the English Premier League after beating Cardiff City in a scintillating Wembley play-off last weekend.

The Seasiders were the club of the legendary Stanley Matthews , the Wizard of Dribble, and have a long, proud, history.

Having admitted some time ago that I don't follow a team in the EPL I'll defintely be keeping an eye on the results of Blackpool FC. Like my own club Wellington United they play in a luminous orange which shines like a beacon in the cold winter sun; and provides a great dash of colour on the terraces.

They are truly an underdog success story, and they'll be a commentator's dream, with such set ups as 'Blackpool rock the Premiership' and 'the Blackpool defender towers above the striker,' and 'what a Rollercoaster return for the Seasiders!'

Their current manager, Ian Holloway, has achieved a minor miracle getting them back to the top flight. He is good value for commentators as well, his no-nonsense approach and his honesty makes his press conferences an entertaining string of sweary sound bites, social commentary and non-sequiturs!

So despite their monochromatic name Blackpool will add a dash of colour to the English Premiership; that is if they buck the trend of clubs yo-yoing between the Premiership and the second tier. Cynical supporters of other failed Premiership clubs such as Bradford City, Blackpool's would be 'piers' if you'll humour me, have set up an impromptu supporters club to warn them of the dangers of returning to the big time-It strikes me as a piss-take, but the point is still relevant.

But the Tangerines won't be dreaming about that over Summer, rather they'll be looking forward to entertaining the likes of Manchester United, Chelsea and the other, more famous 'Pool at Bloomfield Road next season. Leave them to dream; and let's remember when the Tangerines ruled the green:

New Zealand 1: Serbia 0

2010-05-30T09:36:00.006+12:00

New Zealand has won 1-0 overnight against Serbia in a World Cup warm up match in Austria.

A well taken Shane Smeltz goal after 22 minutes sealed the deal, and although there were some nervous moments in Paston's goal the All Whites continued to attack and had plenty of chances themselves.

The Serbian fans who had trekked to Austria for the game were justifiably pissed off, repeatedly barraging the field with red flares. This lead to the most unusual sight of the Serbian captain Vidic trying to calm the crowd using the stadium's PA system!

Make no mistake, this is a huge moment for New Zealand Football. Yes, Serbia were without a couple of their stars, but New Zealand were without starting Midfielder Tim Brown, and Striker Chris Killen. Serbia, ranked 15th in the World, are tipped as a dark horse for the World Cup. They are pooled with Germany, Australia, and Ghana in one of the toughest groups, and are expected to progress to the second round- this expectation may need to be rexamined after being beaten by a side 63 places below them!

This is a magnificent confidence boost for the All Whites and goes a long way to justifying their place at the World Cup table.

In honour of the win here is the Yellow Fever's nutty All Whites tribute song 'BBQ', shot on the wonderful Wellington Waterfront:

1986 & All That

2010-05-26T09:21:00.015+12:00

A Personal History of the World Cup: Part Three
Mexico 1986 was the third World Cup which took place with me on the planet, but it was still another four years until this event fully registered in my mind. But this was the first World cup which I knew was on.

I was still very much an oval ball 10 year old- I played Rugby for Kahukura RFC on Saturdays and League for Central RLFC on Sundays. This was unusual since you tended to play one or the other, even more unusual given that I was a lanky white kid with no special talent for either code. I played full back, not for my running skills, more that the ball never really made it that far, and thats where I'd do the least damage!

It was the very fact that I played so much rugby/league that I would always go in goal whenever Soccer did break out in the playground, and in 1986 it started breaking out more than ever, like the first scarlet blossom of acne on the untainted chin of youth; looking back I blame the Mexico World Cup.

It was in one such game that I pulled off a scorpio-kick save, 9 years before Rene Higuita. I kid you not, this manoeuvre was the talk of my school- a shot was fired over my head and I reacted too late to save with my hands, instead I managed to curl my legs over my head like a whale arcing its flukes as it dives, the ball struck the back of my legs and bounced into my hands as I hit the ground. A fluke yes, but it was my fluke.

But I digress, Mexico 1986 was still a mere blip on my football radar, except for one thing. Whenever anyone cheated or pushed the laws of the game they'd earn a nickname that echoed the racist sentiment of the argie bargie of the Falklands 'war'.

The name Maradona became a mysteriously charged synomoym for mercury and guile. For me its proximity to the equally charged word Madonna, she of the similarly quixotic gyrations, meant it was as erotic as it was exotic- an 'other' word, an alien puzzle to beguile a pre-adolescent.

Plus the addition of those two letters 'Ra' in the already imprinted moniker Madonna meant that the unintentional invocation of the Egyptian, and Maori, Sun Gods (both known as Ra) was a fitting tribute to the image of the man hinself, tiwsting and turning, in the Azteca stadium against England, as the Aztec Sun god himself shone a brilliant shadow on the pitch. Magical.

All Whites Lose to Socceroos

2010-05-25T13:17:00.020+12:00

Australia defeated New Zealand 2-1 at the MCG last night. Brett Holman slipped in at the far post in the last minute, the All Whites let down by a moments lapse in concentration as they contemplated the Bourke Street nightlife and a post match pot or two of well earned Coopers Sparkling Ale.

Despite the result there was still plenty to be excited about as a NZ football fan last night...and plenty left to ponder.

The Australian reaction was mixed, of course the fans at the 'G celebrated at the final whistle as though they'd just downed Brazil- this was their final farewell to their heroes and Holman had saved Pim Verbeeks blushes. But the Ocker Bloggers and Commentators had a more sober view the next day, this was a poor Australian performance on the whole, made even more ugly by Vince Grella's two footed lunge and Tim Cahill's flying feet, both fouls on the battle-scarred Leo Bertos. These were desperate acts from a team not expecting such a fight in a carefully stage managed 'friendly." To Verbeek's credit he said as much, denouncing Grella and Cahill for their poor challenges.

Bertos got off with just a few scrapes but Tim Brown fractured his shoulder in an awkward fall. He has flown back to Auckland for treatment, here's hoping it doesn't destroy his dream of playing in the World Cup.

I was impressed at how composed the All Whites looked, calmly playing out of the back and patiently building up attacks. New Zealand were the better team in the first half, and fully deserved the lead at the break, courtesy of a Chris Killen goal set up by the influential Simon Elliott. It was only in the second half, once key play makers Bertos and Brown had been kicked and rucked out of the game, and the subs started to flow that the Kiwis resorted to the more traditional Route One style. This gave Australia more time with the ball and their superior world ranking eventually began to show.

While none of Australia or New Zealand's South Africa Pool mates will be quaking at the performances on display the result would start to deflect some of the criticism from sceptics who think New Zealand's appearance at the World Cup Finals is cause for much mirth and merrymaking.

There is still a long road until credbility is reached, but last night was a good start.

Finally I must admit some minor Fortean culpability for the loss, tempting fate with a 92nd minute text to a mate watching in a Pub- no sooner had I pressed send on my text, conveying that I thought a 'draw was a fair result,' than the decisive cross was met by Holman, instant chaos theory at its most lethal.

I am sorry All Whites, this was as much a warm up for us fans as it was for the players- I won't be tempting fate come June 15th by trying to preempt the score via text before the final whistle.

For those who may have missed it, here are the highlights:

A Blind Date with Destiny

2010-05-24T17:28:00.008+12:00

It is a Crowded House in Melbourne tonight, as Socceroos coach Pim Verbeek and All Whites Gaffer Ricki Herbert lay their cards on the table in the first transtasman football match in five years, a 'friendly' warm up for the World Cup Finals. Apart from the 60,000 or so fans at the MCG and the hundreds of thousands watching across Australia and Enzed this game will be appointment viewing in Paraguay, Serbia, Ghana, Germany, Slovakia, the distant lands which got drawn in the same pools as the Anzacs back in December

It is only when you consider this fact that you realise how big the World Cup is for New Zealand sport, the World Cup, a world event in deed as in name.

There is probably not much that Serbia, Ghana and Germany wouldn't already know about Australia, but New Zealand's foes are probably a bit more in the dark about the team from football's hinterland since we have been international wallflowers for many years. The reclusive North Koreans are probably the only other World Cup team with more mystique than New Zealand.

For us minnows the World Cup is indeed a blind date with destiny. A date that starts tonight with us courting our old suitors Australia- and I do mean old. As Ryan Nelsen pointed out its practically a may-to december romance, Austalia's golden generation of premiership stars will probably not be in action Four years time, but Fallon, Smeltz, Moss, Reid, Smith and Co. will be hitting their straps in 2014.

So tonight is as good a measure as any ahead of the World Cup as to how far New Zealand has come, and how far we have to go.

Some have called Herbert's plan to field the same starting 11 which lined up against Bahrain in Manamana as unadventeruous. But tonight is not a time for risk taking, it is a chance to consolidate the partnerships across the park, a chance to test our best against a very capable opponent in an intense caldera of rivalry. Besides, with a relaxed policy towards substitutes in this Fifa canctioned friendly Herbert has plenty of scope to blood his newbies, Aaron Clapham, Winston Reid and Tommy Smith.

So with just over 2 hours to kick off tension is building in the streets of Melbourne, as much in the lounges and pubs of Wellington. Are they fretting as much in Ascuncion, Berlin or Accra? We'll see in 4 hours time.

To get us across the line here is the great transtasman cultural collaboration with a song dedicated to those going a little bit stir crazy:

Spiderman, where are you coming from?

2010-04-21T11:01:00.013+12:00

Seeing as there hasn't been much footie on recently (ahem ...ok there was the Barca-Inter Milan diversion...) here's a little Superhero whimsy to pass the time between kicks.

Legendary USSR goalkeeper Lev Yashin may have been dubbed the Black Spider for his preternatural ability to fly and spin through the air but this guy is taking the arachnid metaphor to its nutty nadir:

He must have had too much Mary-Jane in the prematch build up:

1982 & All That

2010-04-20T15:20:00.007+12:00

A Personal History of the World Cup: Part Two

Yes, this was the one. The World Cup that New Zealand finally got a crack at. But Spain 82, just like Argentina 78, washed right over me. Well, almost, right over me.

1982 has beome such an iconic phrase in New Zealand football that it is hard to write objectively about it, harder still becuase I was only 6 years old and living in a Rugby world, playing for Papatoetoe RFC, and mad keen on the Blue and White Stripes of Auckland, and the Red, Black and White Stripes of Counties-Manukau- the All-Whites meant nada to me, nor did their Spanish Odyssey. Yet it still managed to permeate just enough to have significant reverberations for me later on.

In my Manurewa schoolyard we played Softball, Rugby (Tackle Rugby, touch was not yet an option), the A-Team and Star Wars. I played Short stop, Full Back, 'Howling Mad' Murdoch and a Stormtooper respectively.

Then one day a large round ball was introduced at the interval. All hell broke loose as us kids tried to play this foreign game, never having seen it. Soccer was such an alien invader-with positions such as Striker and Defender, it really suited the Atari zeitgeist of the early 80's.

So even though the 1982 World Cup did not really register with me, like a low-flying enemy saucer it was at least starting to buzz on my radar.

Two years or so after 1982 I found a cut-up copy of a magazine about the All Whites' exploits, produced by the tobacco company Rothmans (the sponsorship seemed fairly innocuous then, it seems frankly outrageous now.) Reading that magazine I got a sense of that epic road to the finals, which was a great achievement in itself. I also started to understand the true international flavour of Football- that a lad from Manurewa could play in exotic realms like Saudi Arabia or Sevilla, that the whole world would be watching a kid from Miramar.

All the imagery and nouns of 1982 held, and still hold, such a mystique for me; Chinese-Taipai, Kuwait, Van Hattum, Rufer - the utter Magnum PI brashness of Steve Sumner's droopy moustache and his casual aggression in the tackle, the Singaporean keeper's timeless style of a green top and red Adidas trackpants:

The casual, hirsute glamour of this uniquely Kiwi entry point into a forbidden world of handballs and offsides was appealing for a sport curious 8 year old- but it was to be another two years before the first World Cup which registered with me personally was to take place. Still 1982 will always be special to every Kiwi football fan, whether experienced first hand or through the adulterated medium of a second hand Smoker's programme. Whatever way you look at it those were glory days for NZ Football, hopefully to be bettered this coming June.

As an aside I have a tenuous personal connection with the 1982 World Cup in the fact that the artist Joan Miro was commisioned to create a poster for the 1982 World Cup:Now although my son Miro was not named after the artist, rather the synonomous New Zealand native tree, it is a rather nice synchronicity-one which Miro's mum thinks is just a little too coincidental to be a true accident.

The Season is on the Line

2010-03-28T15:58:00.013+13:00

My lower grade club team, the Salmon, had their last hit out before the season yesterday- a meandering 5 nil loss to a very handy Marist side 4 divisions above us.

...13 orange shirts a-swaying in the breeze....

There is nothing like playing football in a World Cup year.
Thankfully the Southern hemisphere winter coincides with the quadrennial June Soccernalia. As our club football calender reaches its climax the prematch talk won't be so much about whether Island Bay shipped three goals against Stop Out, nor who the golden boot over at Miramar Rangers will be, rather all the sideline natter will be about the ins and outs of Group F, the latest great African hope, the bizarre refereeing decisions and even more bizarre goal celebrations. For two months every four years us plodders and hackers can dare to dream... Ah it makes you feel part of a global mockery all over again. Last World Cup a shiftworking team mate decided to video (remember video!) all the games and watch them at a more convenient time - convenient for him perhaps, he made us promise schtum for the good part of a month, banned from mentioning Ballack and Lahm, verbotten from discussing Zidane and Materazzi, we finally gave up, making him a social pariah, left out of our World Cup bubble.

It will be great to have our own team to support for a change, but through decades of habit I'll still be rooting for pitiful England. As for the All Whites a realistic goal will be a point from pool play and perhaps some stand out moments like having Italy on the ropes for the first half, before the Azurri bring on Pirlo et al to settle the score, or a Fallon header which deceives the Paraguayan Goalkeeper, and the bookies, if only for a second. Bereft of real world-class talent and lacking experience the All Whites will have to work hard and rely on a strong team culture to make an impact. Unlike 1982 when many of the New Zealanders reported being star struck I believe the 2010 All Whites know that despite the odds they are not merely there to make up the numbers, but to compete across all parts of the paddock, from Paston to Smeltz.

For NZ Football the Season really is on the line; despite a bumper year of successes the nation's arm chair critics will make their minds up based on Herbert's Jabulani jaunt this coming Northern Summer. Herbert has a point to prove, and surely a point will prove it.

It's a Yellow Out

2010-02-27T09:09:00.008+13:00

Wellington Phoenix host the Newcastle Jets in what amounts to an A-League Quarter-final on Sunday 7 March.

The Yellow Fever have called upon the city, nay the very country, to show its true colours and go yellow for the game. With less than 5,000 tix left to sell the Nix final home game of the season will be a scorcher.

Unfortunately as per my previous post I'll be knee deep in artiness, taking Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea out to the curious theatre at Southward Car Museum in Paekakariki. Paekakariki means valley of the green parrot- Ill make time in my schedule to ask Land Information NZ to temporarily change the name to Paekowhai- the valley of yellow!

I'm hoping that since this company is British they'll be partial to a bit of football, and may tolerate me tuning to Radio Sport in the Greenroom, and perchance the quiet bits of the show will be punctuated by my cries of joy when Greenacre slots home the winner.

I have had nary a chance to ruminate upon matters football for the past week, missing opportunites to post about the Phoenix beating Perth, Ryan Nelsen's dodgy knee, the All Whites strip being blacked out and all manner of other sundry odd spots.

But yesterday I saw some awesome athleticism, namely the man and his digger at Waitangi Park, and the Monks from Sutra perform a monkey dance on a steel pole. This was after I had performed two Haka Powhiri- one at dawn to welcome the Festival artists and a special Haka Powhiri on stage at the St James Theatre to welcome the cast of Sutra. The Monks were very gracious and said through their translator "your dance [the haka] is like a Kung Fu to us."

Here is the proof:
Before yesterday I had only ever performed one Haka before- as a weedy teenager on Niue Island before our 7th form Geography Class Rugby team got pounded into the ground by the Niue High School 1st XV. (On the Niue national News that night it was the lead story, and we were called the Rotorua Boys High 1st XV!)

A Haka is an intense experience- drawing up all manner of mana and wairua from the Earth below, and entwining host and guest in an ancient, energetic bond. And then you want to smash them.

IF it was done right, and that is a BIG if, i wouldn't mind seeing the All Whites take a leaf out of the All Blacks book and summon the warrior chief Te Rauparaha before taking on the Italians!

On second thoughts maybe not, have some monkey pole dancing & general easts meets west craziness courtesy of Sutra instead:

The Longest Derby II- This time it's 'Perth'onal

2010-02-20T13:51:00.003+13:00

Groan... Ok, so I end my post drought with a pithy poor pun, but the heady, desperate days before a knockout play off game do strange things to a Football Tragic's brainwaves.

Since the last time they played Perth the Phoenix have picked themselves up, dusted themselves off and marched towards the A-League playoffs, finishing fourth in the ten team league. The fact that they finished fourth is a matter of some pride, not just scraping into a generous play-off quota, but firmly entrenched in the midst of the top six.

A few weeks ago they picked up a record crowd of 19,258 at 'home' in Christchurch. An event which would go along way towards a Cantabrian claim for an A-League spot. However unlikely this may seem you'd have to think that Canterbury would make a good fist of it. Their sporting teams have an unparalled knack of performing when it counts; Their Rugby and Cricket teams in particular have set the standard for domestic success in Aotearoa, and the Englishness of Christchurch lends itself to the leisurely pursuit of all colonial sports, not least of all Football. It would be fantastic if the Nix could cast off the phony war against Perth, and play a real derby against our traditional Southern rivals. The Cantabrian fans would also be loathe to share their team with the rest of the country. Even though Wellington is proudly parochial, and the Phoenix are Harbour City heroes through and through the Yellow Fever are made up of football fans from all over the Country, and are happy to share their team.

Despite the improbable fancy of two NZ teams in the A-League it is in fact Melbourne who will become the first A-League team to get a proper City Derby,when the Melbourne Heart starts beating next season. And why not? To the Melbourne Victory the Phoenix record home crowd of 19,000,is a paltry figure, and still below their season average of 21,105.

So the challenge of restoring NZL's transtasman football dignity remains the sole burden of the Phoenix, for now at least. This weekend Wellington city is fair fizzing at the prospect of sudden death finals footie- this is coupled with a delicious Perth V. Wellington doubleheader at the Stadium. (The Western Force Rugby team take on the Wgtn Hurricanes tonight. How many Perthites are taking in both games I wonder?)

It seems as though the Phoenix home attendance record is set be nixed again as fans flock to the city. My old football coach from Rotorua rung me up saying he is in town for the game and wants to catch up. If this random occurance is anything to go by I'd say a 25,000-30,000 home crowd could be on the cards, as fairweather fans, or those yet to be tempted by the Nix, throw their misgivings to the wind, and join New Zealand's team in the A-League.

So the season comes to ahead tomorrow for the Nix, if Dadi is fit to play I hope he isn't assigned Penalty duties. But if Paul Ifill comes to play with the vision and calmness he has found in recent weeks, and if Manny Muscat keeps his Maltese crosses flying into Tim Brown's educated melon at the far post then the 'Longest Derby' promises to be less one sided this time around.

I think that the Nix will beat Perth tomorrow; Fortress Wellington has been tough to seige this season, but I don't think the Nix have got the goods to trump Melbourne or Sydney if they meet them in the final But as they say in Rugby League, you have to lose a final to win a final, so the Nix first ever taste of playoff footie will be invaluable in their quest for A-League glory.

On a personal note I am about to disappear into the black hole known as the NZ International Arts Festival from this Friday 26 Feb until March 21. I have been working on this Festival as the Education Coordinator, and soon the fruits of my labour will fall from the tree.

I may not return from this journey quite as sane of mind nor as fleet of foot as before. Wish me luck, for the arts can be a dangerous place to play:

How Bizarre

2010-01-31T15:37:00.011+13:00

The creator of New Zealand's greatest contribution to UK terrace chant culture has died.Pauly Fuemana died in Auckland this morning after a short illness.

As lead singer of the Otara Millionaires Club (OMC) Fuemana had an unexpected global hit with the catchy hip hop song How Bizarre.

The song peaked at no. 4 on the UK singles charts and, more bizarrely, was used as a terrace chant at certain football grounds, usually whenever something out of the ordinary happened, football bloopers as it were.

I remember hearing it as a steward for Bristol City at Ashton Gate- it brought a wee tear to my eye and made me stroke my pounamu in pride.

It is somewhat ironic that football fans picked up on this song since Pauly Fuemana was from the Rugby and League stronghold of South Auckland. Being part Maori and Niuean, I'd wager that he would've had little time for the supposed sissyness of Soccer. I might be wrong; He may now be spurning the chance to punt the ole pig skin over those pearly posts with George Nepia, preferring instead to play pick up Football with the Busby Babes and George Best, while the shades of Hillsborough fill that heavenly pitch with the wonder of his one great hit.

Come to think of it, one of the main characters of the song is named Pele, after all....

This post may be only vaguely football related, but nonetheless Pauly, The Football Tragics salute you:

Phoenix Lose the Longest Derby

2010-01-24T15:15:00.009+13:00

Wellington Phoenix went down 2-0 to Perth, in what may euphemistically be called 'the Longest Derby'.

In a league dominated by teams from Australia's Eastern Seaboard, Wellington and Perth are the geographically distant outsiders. It somehow seems right to think of Wellington v. Perth as a derby of a different kind. It is their very uncommonness that they have in common, like the disparite dogmas of Glasgow Rangers and Celtic, which unites the fierce rivals in an uncomfortable bond.

The Wellington to Perth road trip must be one of the longest in domestic football, and makes a sweet mockery out of the cosy bonhomie of, say, the Maltese or Andorran football leagues. Perhaps only Russia has a domestic football match that requires a 10,000+ Kilometre round trip. (Happy to be corrected in the comments section below.)

Eugene Dadi had a baffling, meandering, sort of homecoming. Fouled from the first minute, he was goaded into picking up a soft early yellow and was lucky not to see red mere minutes later. It seemed like he was hell bent on reacquainting his studs with the shins of every one of his ex-team mates. The strategy failed, the Perth Glory's covert fouling was much more effective in disrupting Dadi's flow and getting under his skin; Paul Ifill also copped a bit of attention, repeatedly being spilled over by the Glory game plan of harassment and niggle. It was not a pretty game, but Perth's two first half goals were at least quality finishes, even if the Nix defence was generous in its absentia.

In the second half Dadi's horror show return to the Indian Oceanside reached its nadir with a pathetic 73rd minute penalty, limply rolled to the keeper, after a clownish run up.

In what was a forgettable night for the Nix; feeble up front and phantoms at the back, perhaps the thing I'd most like to blot from the record is the terrible 'Come Play' commemorative jerseys.

The sentiment, at least, was fantastic. This was the 'Come Play' Round, where each team wore a special jersey to promote Australia's World Cup bid, and each player's top will be auctioned off for charity afterwards. Although the Phoenix are a NZ based team the potential spin off for NZ football from Australia hosting the World Cup could be huge.

But the shirts themselves were a throw back to the eighties- hypercolour tied dyed messes with cutesy little Kangaroos on them. Gok Wan should stick to shopping malls for his makeovers, and leave the football shirts alone.

Ironically the 'Come Play' round, which was meant to draw attention to the A-League as a supporting factor in Australia's World Cup Bid, was defined by ill discipline and confrontation. Plenty of bookings, poor tackles and silly fouls. North Queensland's All White Jeremy Brockie had his ankle snapped in a rash challenge by Brisbane Roar's Michael Zullo, so much for transtasman goodwill and cooperation in the name of the World Cup. Brockie's dream of appearing in a World Cup is probably as busted as his leg, while Zullo blithely played on, hoping to be in contention. for the Socceroos' squad. Even 'God' wasn't in a charitable mood; North Queensland's Robbie Fowler sulked in the stands after being benched.

The Central Coast v. Gold Coast game, a true derby at least in geographical terms if not history, was typical of the round. It was feisty, marred by fouls and dust ups, but still managed to be a snore fest.(I literally fell asleep watching it.) The casual observer might think that the invitation to come play was confused about what code it was referring to.

If this was meant to be the shop window for the beautiful game in Australia, then those tie-dyed t-shirts should be ripped into rags, and used to wipe the window clean.

Team Wellington's Coach in Dog Attack

2010-01-23T13:28:00.009+13:00

This could have been a lot worse. A lot worse.

Team Wellington Coach Stu Jacobs, one helluva nice guy, sustained serious injuries after trying to break up a dog on dog attack at a college based youth football clinic.

Given the fact that his own five and four year old daughters were nearby, it was probably more of an instinctive, rather than rational, response. Whatever the motivation it says a lot about his make up that he bothered to intervene, and a medal for bravery, (with a bar for stupidity?) should be in the post. He even had the presence of mind to get his TW top in the photo- a true professional!

Good luck with the recovery Stu, and may Team Wellington channel some of that mongrel attitude when they take on Auckland FC tomorrow.

You may have to put up with ACFC fans giving you good natured grief with chants like 'Who let the dogs out" and "How much is that doggy in the window" though!

Haiti United

2010-01-18T08:22:00.000+13:00

The absolute tragedy in Haiti compels the world to act. The football world has been no different in its humanitarian reaction. If you haven't already donated here is a win-win way to support the cause.

100% of proceeds from the sale of this shirt will be donated to the relief fund. Imagine how stylish, and globally responsible, your pub team would look all decked out in this little number.

Given the disparity in the GDP of Haiti and your average top flight football club, perhaps millionaire owners like Chelsea's Roman Abramovich could give up lunch for a day, or perhaps donate a thousand pounds for each goal his 'play-things' score-that'd be a cool 7,000 pounds for the cause after last weekend's trouncing of the hapless Black Cats.

Check out the wine bill from one of his recent luncheons:

C'mon Abramovich, this roman excess would make Caligula blush, how about tempering it with a bit of charity?

Here is more about the disaster from the point of view of US Striker Jozy Altidore, who is of Haitian descent:

3 nil

2010-01-16T09:55:00.001+13:00

That is all.

Dadi is King of the Castle

2010-01-12T17:18:00.004+13:00

Saturday 9 January 2010 was a very special day in Wellington, New Zealand.

The sun was beaming down on our own little patch of South Pacific paradise, and tourists scoffed ice-creams in the Botanic Gardens and on the Waterfront. Amongst them a handful of Brisbane Roar fans, in town to see their team take on the resurgent Wellington Phoenix.

It was the second to last day of my holidays. I started the day by heading up to the Town Belt with Miro to gather pinecones for the winter- it may seem like an odd choice of activity, but it is actually really fun and a 'recession friendly' father and son activity. Watching Miro stagger about the steep forest calling out for 'cones' gave me great joy, and now we have a few bags of starter fuel for our home fire.

After lunch I headed up to the Dell in the Botanic Gardens to partake in pre-game beer and a spot of Kubb, which urban legend has it was a training routine for viking warriors. This yard game is like a cross between Jenga, Petanque and Chess, and is easy to pick up but hard to put down.

It is quite a nice way to spend a sunny afternoon, hanging out with my footballing cohort Richard Hallam, whose aim was well off that day, missing the King by a country mile, despite the look of concentration in this (posed) shot:

After the half drunken game of Kubb we hightailed it to the stadium to watch the Nix.

The first half was nothing special really- the Nix defended well, but to be honest Brisbane looked an inferior force compared to past incarnations of the Queensland Oranje. Their one or two real chances of the half were snuffed out by former Brisbane keeper Liam Reddy, now wearing the Amber and Black of Wellington.

But the second half, oh, the second half. I moved from my usual spot near the Yellow Fever around to the rejects zone of aisle 10 by halfway, to try and get a different perspective on the game. I am glad I did, for I was in a prime spot to see Eugene Dadi stamp his mark on the match and his mark on Wellington, by producing a wonderfully timed overhead volley. Then, mere minutes later, he completed a debutant brace with an instinctive finish after some great build up work. The Nix kept attacking, and despite a consolation goal to the Roar (which in itself was a fine finish) the three points were safe.

The next day I went up to Martin Luckie Park with 20 other Yellow Feverites for the weekly kickaround, and spirits were high. Finally this season there is renewed optimism in the Phoenix camp and hushed voices are even discussing play-off football.

When life seems complicated, and even the sport you love is drawn into the maelstrom of chaos and terror, (an event which was made all the worse for the cackhanded political maneuvering afterwards) it is sometimes nice to just sit back and contemplate the simple things in life:

A gorgeous summer's day; pinecone hunting; obscure viking lawn games; and overhead bicycle kicks.

Enjoy Dadi's cool goal again, courtesy of 101 Great Goals:

My Heart Belongs to Dadi

2010-01-05T13:26:00.003+13:00

As Cole Porter so eloquently penned, and Ella Fitzgerald so elegantly sung:

"While tearin' off a game of golf
I may make a play for the caddie
But when I do, I don't follow through
'Cause my heart belongs to Dadi"

Wellington Phoenix have signed Ivorian international Eugene Dadi from Perth Glory. Dadi will be a physical presence up front and will no doubt be a great foil for the skillful Paul Ifill and Chris Greenacre to play off. Every time I watched Perth play the Nix I was impressed with Dadi. Like Ifill he seems to have more time than most, while others are scurrying into position he shuffles along at his own pace, calmly summing up the options before delivering a telling final ball.

The fact that the Phoenix attacking trio mentioned above are all foreigners makes a mockery of Asian Football Federation Chairman Bin Hammam's claim that Wellington Phoenix is an ersatz national team, and is being used solely for the purpose of strengthening our qualification for major tournaments. While there is no doubt that NZ football is stronger for the presence of the Phoenix, and that Ben Sigmund, Mark Paston and the other Wellington based All Whites must relish the regular competition of the A-League, the chance for those guys to train and play with the likes of Dadi and Ifill is just as important.

I think a Wellington Phoenix made up purely of Kiwis would have a detrimental effect on the game here, but if Bin Hamman had his way then the Phoenix will have to become registered as a fully Australian entity and our Kiwi players will count as foreign imports. While this is plainly ridiculous a balance is needed to keep the Phoenix as a development path for Kiwis while allowing the best of the rest of the World through the doors; increasing international profile, crowd revenue and allowing invaluable experience of different styles and cultures for our National team players.

So Dadi is coming home to Wellington. I look forward to seeing him in action this very weekend against the Brisbane Roar at Westpac Stadium. He will surely be a Yellow Fever favourite with a name that lends itself to clever chants based on Cole Porter songs and family-friendly puns.

Dust Devils, Tumbleweeds, Uni Cyclists and the Photo of the Year

2010-01-04T22:03:00.014+13:00

It's been a relaxed fortnight with very little football watching for me to comment on, apart from listening in to shaky radio coverage of Paul Ifill's two goal heroics for the Nix on New Years Eve, and watching a rather bizarre doco about Diego Maradona by underground auteur Kustarica, entitled simply Maradona. (I may review this film later so won't talk to much about it now).

Around Wellington it's like a ghost town; if not for the hordes of Unicyclists in town Dust Devils and Tumbleweeds would be the only animation.

One side effect of growing up loving football in a rugby mad country is that I have developed a healthy curiosity for all sports that buck the norm. You know at the end of the sports bulletin after they have shown the rugby, cricket, netball, horse racing and yachting, and then they show the bog snorkling or cheese-rolling? That's when they used to show the football footage, so I have been conditioned to sit up and take notice of those quaint, customary little events.

In the past I have been taken a shine to Gaelic Football, Aussie Rules, Hurling and Grid Iron. I can now add Unicycling to my minority sports report, since I have been spending some time this past week at Newtown Park watching the Track and Field criteria of the 15th Unicycle World Champs. This morning I went down to the Wellington Events Centre and caught some of the Unicycle Basketball- thats right, it's Basketball on a unicycle! These guys were incredible, and while some of the basketball skills were not the best, the combined skill of riding, turning, stopping, passing and shooting while on one wheel was very skillful.

If a team of pro basketballers were to play the best Uni-Basketballers, the first half being straight up basketball, the second half on Unicycles, I'd bet that the hippies would get creamed by the pros in the first half, but might just sneak in a point or two from a lucky three pointer, or a free throw. BUT in the second half the Unicyclists would wheel to victory unopposed; the basketballers struggling to even get on court, let alone block a shot or put up the rock. Only those Basketballers raised by circus folk would stand a chance and as far as I know that only includes Dennis Rodman.

Watching Unicyclists negotiating the wild streets of Newtown and the Waterfront, bent over at 45 degrees to cope with the wind, is a mesmerising little piece of whimsy in our otherwise forlorn and quiet little frontier town.

The media is also full of dust devils and tumbleweeds. Bored hacks and Summer interns trying to find a bright mirage in a dull desert. They either overblow flimsy news items which wouldn't stand up in the mid year storm of real news, or else they endlessly review the years' past successes with recycled lists and awkwardly fabricated awards.

Sometimes though this more laidback approach to news gathering can result in gentle nostalgia. Upon picking up the Summer edition of local community rag The Wellingtonian I was stoked to see that their 'Photo of the Year' across all categories was of the West African Keeper from the 2009 Culture Kicks Tournament. Culture Kicks is Wellington's own ethnic mini world cup- five a side and lively, with food, music and of course football.

I have a special attachment to this event since I was the instigator and main organiser for the first three years (including 2009) and managed to secure funding for it in the Local Council's Long Term Community Plan. It is a great event, and I remember the moment this photo was taken very well since I was the sideline commentator. West Africa were outplayed by Poland in the final, but had a chance to win it in regular time; their striker rounding the keeper only to miss the open goal. Alas, it finished 0-0 and Poland, from Christchurch, kept their nerve to win it from the spot. They collected the trophy and then a shuttle bus collected them, and rushed off to the airport, since the tournament went well over time.

This years' Culture Kicks is on March 28 at Martin Luckie Park, and teams can register at Sportzone. Lets just hope Poland remember to fly the trophy back up in time.

Here is the 2009 'Photo of the Year' of the West African keeper just before the penalty shootout:

The Grave Maurice, or All I Want for Christmas is...

2009-12-24T12:23:00.001+13:00

...my two front teeth.

The image above was taken ten years ago, a few days after I had arrived in London for my O.E.

After a duty free fuelled BBQ with some other Kiwis (that's what Kiwis do when they travel overseas- hang out with other Kiwis and pretend to be in New Zealand) we decided to play Hacky Sack.

My mates lived in Whitechapel, near the Whitechapel Street Market. When the market is not on the steel frames that sellers convert into stalls still haunt the streets. Being slightly tipsy and wholly enthusiastic I chased a loose hacky sack back out of the friendly circle and ran smack bang into a face level steel beam, chipping both my front teeth.

Once the shock, and vodka, wore off I quite fancied my new 'hard man' look. I spied the pub The Grave Maurice just up the road. This pub, made famous as being a fave hang out for the Kray brothers, and featured on the cover of the Morrisey single Sunny, was a pwopah heavy backdrop for my new rough and ready visage.

A few weeks later a very cheap NHS dental job capped off my teeth - and capped of this saga....until earlier this year when the combined wear and tear of ten years of football, coffee, wine, hard lollies & harder living finally did it for the el cheapo fix up. And now I am back where I was ten years ago, with two chipped teeth.

So yes, in the new year I'll make an appointment to the dentist, and I bet it won't cost 30 quid this time. So donations to my dental fund greatly appreciated in lieu of pressies!

But what I really want for Christmas is another stellar year for NZ football.

A year where politicking and in-fighting takes a back seat to innocent passion and joy.

A year where the fair weather football fans, turned on by the All Whites appearance in SA, are embraced by the mad-for-it evergreens during water cooler conversations, their ignorance of the offside law met with gentle counsel rather than scorn and ridicule.

A year where win, lose or draw at the World Cup NZ football continues to gain credibility both on and off the field, sharing column inches with Rugby, Netball and League with good grace and humility, an entente cordiale which marks the genesis of a new golden age for NZ sport.

While I believe that this is possible, I also believe in the Tooth Fairy and Santa Clause!

Anyway thats me for the year- I have really enjoyed writing this blog, enjoyed the freedom of banging out a few words about whatever has moved me in the football world, and finding nice pictures to match my rantings. But equally I am going to enjoy a holiday away from the computer, away from the TV and the football highlights, with only one ear tuned to the radio to follow the Nix and the occasional match report in the Dom Post to get my fix.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year dear reader(s). Here is a vid about the famous 'Christmas Truce' football match between British and German troops in WWI*, to fill you with glad tidings of comfort and hope.

* The Germans won on penalties I believe.

1978 & All That

2009-12-23T08:28:00.004+13:00

A Personal History of the World Cup: Part One

As we countdown to South Africa 2010 this blog will reminisce about the eight World Cups that have taken place since my birth in 1976.

It will be a patchy, potted history since I was hardly aware of the event until Italia '90- and even then it was more about how that tournament fitted with my own burgeoning experience of football. So please don't read this expecting a definitive guide- Brian Glanville's excellent History of the World Cup will serve you better. But if you are a football tragic like me, and you measure time in four year cycles then this may be of some interest, being as it is the awakening of my awareness that there exists a clock with hands quick enough to clasp a quadrennial flash of splendour.

As a two year old growing up in Rugby and Rugby League mad South Auckland, Argentina 1978 tango'd by me without a murmur. But the fact that a few years later I watched Ossie Ardiles and Ricky Villa plying their trade for Tottenham Hotspur in the hallowed English Division One, on Saturday Morning's Big League Soccer, is testament to the impact that the Argentine Cup winnning squad had on World Football.

But this is adult hindsight. Looking back with the eyes of a two year old, (my son is almost two now so I know what amuses him), I can see that the most obvious thing that would have piqued my interest would have been the amazing shower of confetti raining down from on high in the Estadio Monumental, Buenos Aires as Mario Kempes scored his second for the hosts, condeming the brave Dutch to their second straight World Cup Final defeat.

Screeds and screeds of pretty blue & white confetti, captured by the flash of a thousand light bulbs, littering the field of play:

Muy Picante!

2009-12-22T19:00:00.011+13:00

It has been revealed that New Zealand's first warm up game for the 2010 World Cup will be against Mexico, in Los Angeles (an ersatz home match for El Tri) on March 3.

This is a quality warm up game since Mexico's flamboyant attacking style will closely mimic Paraguay; the All White's final opponents in pool play. The passionate Mexican fans will also give our lads a taste of the unholy din to be expected at a World Cup Finals match.

The game falls within FIFA's friendly international window, which means clubs are only obliged to release players for 48 hours. So the fact that it is being played a mere 11 hour's flight from London, rather than in New Zealand, means we have every chance of seeing Captain Courageous Ryan Nelsen, and the other European and US based players, turn out in the Pasadena Rose Bowl.

One can only assume that Mexico sees the All Whites as being on a par with their pool mates South Africa- we certainly can't be expected to offer them a taste of the guile, nor gall, of France.

Whatever way you look at it this is a coup, and is an early Christmas present for NZ Football Fans. Now we just need to secure friendlies against some European sides to replicate the style of Slovakia and Italy and the set is complete.

Wellington Phoenix win a 2010 TAWA Award

2009-12-18T09:35:00.002+13:00

Last night Wellington Phoenix won a coveted TAWA award for Best Regular Entertainment in Wellington.

The Annual Wellingtonista Awards (TAWAS) are run by a bunch of cyber savvy hep cats who blog about the Wellington 'scene'. In their collective consciousness they know where to get a Hot Buttered Rum when the clock has struck one, and where the best place to shake your Watusi is once that Rum rush kicks in.

So when they vote the Wellington Phoenix as Best Regular Entertainment you know that a tipping point has been reached.

The Nix beat out some tough competition in their category- The Richter City Roller Derby is apparently a great night out and their fans flocked to the awards night expecting another bonecrushing victory.

The award is as much for the atmosphere generated by the Yellow Fever fans as for the incidental action on the field. The Wellington Phoenix experience is a complete package, from last gasp Leo Bertos pile drivers which nick the points, to bare chests and witty chants.

In the same awards ceremony the the All Whites' World Cup Qualifier was pipped at the post for Best Event by the Cuba Street Carnival. I think that was a fair result. The Cuba Street Carnival is New Zealand's answer to the Notting Hill Carnival; organised chaos on a grand scale, a debauched saturnalia invading the streets of our fair town.

So well done the Phoenix! Yet more kudos for a code on the rise.

NZ Football's Stocks Keep Rising

2009-12-17T20:52:00.010+13:00

TP Mazembe 2-Auckland City 3

Wow. This is an incredible result. I think it is actually more incredible than their first victory and clean sheet over the host nation club. In many ways it is even more incredible than the All Whites making the World Cup (but not as significant in terms of global reach and the ongoing potential); being as it was a sustained performance against quality opposition in a tournament on foreign soil.

But Auckland City's victories take on even more significance coming so soon after the All Whites entry into the World Cup. It is the proverbial icing on the cake.

You would have to say that it has been a stellar year for NZ footie. The stocks are rising, and despite my early reservations that the lucrative pay-out would be locked away north of the Bombay Hills, indications are that the windfall will drift down State Highway one- all NZFC clubs will benefit in some way.

Quite apart from the money, all NZ football clubs have already benefited. Football is leading the news headlines once again. Only the most naive amongst us think this is a permanent reversal-it isnt. Rugby is king and probably will be for a very long time. But football is gaining profile and credibility, and it has been a long time coming.

Messrs Dickinson, Coombes, Hayne, Van Steeden et al should be congratulated for the part they have played in this special piece of drama. They have scored some very golden goals indeed.

Purgatory....and all stops North

2009-12-14T21:17:00.009+13:00

A weekend review 12-13 December

Wellington Phoenix 0-Sydney FC 1
Capital Football 4-Waikato-Bay of Plenty 1 (National Women's League-Semifinal)
Auckland City 0- Atlante 3

Wellington Phoenix 0-Sydney FC 1

Head north from Wellington and the road signs are peppered with the names of small towns and so called 'cities' which begin with the letter P. There is a punctual glut of P-towns as you travel up the Kapiti Coast; a plethora which includes Porirua, Pauatahanui, Plimmerton, Paekakariki, Paraparaumu and so on until the plain-straddling university town of Palmerston North announces its arrival with yet another primary plosive. It was here that the Wellington Phoenix played Sydney FC in a crucial A-League match.

I went to a party once in Palmerston North. There was a pig on the spit and live music that sounded like the souls of the damned feasting on said dead beast. I had a great time, falling asleep in a car as the mist rolled in across the farmlands. Would I go back to Palmy for a party? Probably not. Will the Phoenix return? maybe, but they'll have to work harder if they want to bring home the bacon, having been bamboozled by the wind at the Serie B wannabe FMG stadium, probably the first A-League fixture to be played on a Stock Car track:
It's like Wellington Phoenix were banished to Palmerson North as punishment for picking up the tag of 'bad boys' of the A-League. And in Palmerston North they suffered the interminable winds of damnation. Unable to clear their lines they conceded an early penalty, expertly dispatched by the Dante-esque Steve Corica, all age and guile. It proved the difference, eventually scuttled 1-0 by a more aggressive and more creative Sydney FC. The 'Bling' must have been wondering where the hell they were, and what they had done to deserve such a rural exile. It's a far cry from the cosmoplitan cool of Sydney -the biting wind and fierce sun seemed to burn a red stamp on each Sydneysider's neck, as if to remind them of their time in footballing purgatory with those sinners from across the ditch. Alex Brosque, in particular, had a neck which shone as red as the Tararua Ranges at sundown.

Before this game Sydney had a fine disciplanary record but they seemed to let the wind and sun get to them. In a classic case of commentators curse Fred De Jong put the clappers on Sydney, noting their exemplary disciplinary record compared to the errant Phoenix- within a minute Colosimo was shown a red card for a reckless lunge, and the last ten minutes was littered with yellow cards for time wasting as Sydney looked to kill off the game.

So at least Sydney got the points from their weekend away in purgatoty, while a becalmed Nix keep hovering about in limbo.

Capital Football 4- Waikato -Bay of Plenty 1 (Women's National League Semifinal)

The following day I took a drive out to yet another P-Town to watch the local ladies representative side take on Waikato-Bay of Plenty in very gusty conditions at Memorial Park, Petone. Compared to the Nix game it was a much more entertaining spectacle, and a clinic in playing with the wind. Capital Football are flush with national team stars such as Aroon Clansey, Hannah Wall and Renee Leota, as well as up and coming youngsters like Sandy Cumpstone (from my own club Wgtn Utd) and Amanda Rasch. It was a nervy, and not very pretty, first half (much like the Nix v Sydney game) as both sides battled for territory and tried to read the wind. But the second half sprung to life as the Capital showed a smarter hand, stringing short passes together and running the ball upfield as a unit. The Waikato keeper's poor handling and judgement in the swirling wind was exposed as the yellow strikers followed up spilled shots to punish her with two quick second half goals. A 30 yard screamer with the wind at her back saw Sarah MacLauchlin put Waikato back in the frame, but substitute Hannah Wall's fresh legs created havoc for the Waikato defence and Capital Football put the game to bed with two late goals. The Capital women now face a rematch of last year's final against Auckland up in Pukekohe.

Funnily enough I saw Peter McDonald at a family cycling event that morning and told him the game was on, knowing he likes covering sports events in the Hutt Valley. I emailed him today and he sent me these pics for this blog. What a champ!

Auckland City 0- Atlante 3

Oh and Auckland City's fairytale run in the Club World Cup came to an abrupt halt at the feet of the mythical sounding Atlante from Mexico. It was always going to be a tough ask for the amateurs of 'Shop Assistants FC' to maintain their momentum, what with worrying how Granville was getting on back at shop. They still have a play off for 5/6 place against the incredibly named Tout-Puissant Mazembe Englebert from the Congo.

The Gift that Keeps on Giving

2009-12-12T13:14:00.022+13:00

Yet another little karmic kickback for me from the footballing gods via this Blog. A supporter who took a panorama of the stadium during the All Whites vs. Bahrain game posted his pic on the Yellow Fever forum with the intention of selling prints to fans. It transpired that Welly_Phoenix's (as he calls himself on the forum) original image included photos that he didn't hold the copyright for. But after Welly_Phoenix read my blog post about photographer Peter McDonald I put him in touch with Peter and they came to some arrangement to use those pics in his updated print. This is now being sold via the Yellow Fever home page.

Punters who have purchased it have said it's a lot better momento than the NZ Football produced 'One Shot for Glory' team photo, which was promoted as a publicity stunt to drive ticket sales for the Bahrain game. This was touted as the biggest team photo in the world, where the crowd at the Westpac Stadium would be photographed as if they were posing in the All Whites' team photo. Here it is from a TV screen shot:

It was a nice idea in theory, but in reality the curvature of the stadium made it difficult for the designers to present it in an appropriate scale. Plus it was almost two weeks before a version was produced for the public to view, which is an aeon in the timeframes of modern media. The designers must have had some wicked kind of hangover after the Victory Party on November 14th!

In the end NZ Football wisely decided to give it away free as a poster in the newspaper, since its expected impact was diminished, and as a thank you to the fans who helped spur the All Whites on to the World Cup.

Luckily the Fever fan designed Panorama has filled the spot and makes a nice little christmas present.I get no sales commission from this plug (honest!) just a warm glow from the sense that I am doing my bit in keeping the footie fire alive.

The Jaffas roll Al-Ahli

2009-12-10T08:58:00.010+13:00

Absolutely magic result at the FIFA Club World Cup in the United Arab Emirates overnight. NZFC side Auckland City has rolled out 2-0 winners over hometown heroes Al-Ahli.

Hot on the heels of the All White's WC qualification, this inaugural win at the Club World Cup is another shot in the arm for the local game, netting Auckland City a cool $1 million pay out and earning them a crack at Mexican champs Atlante.

(It is not necesarily good news for Team Wellington's bid to trim back the Auckland club football hegemony however-but I digress)

What I particularly like about this win was that, on the highlights at least, it didn't seem like an ugly, backs to the wall, last minute scramble type of win.

A class cross and tidy finish by Adam Dickinson at the end of the first half, followed by a wonder strike by Chad Coombes that would be at home in a Christiano Ronaldo highlights reel means that ACFC won with a certain amount of class- something that NZ teams have been criticised as lacking in the past.

But play of the match for me was not the Coombes' goal itself, rather fellow scorer Dickinson's instinctive duck under Coombes' cannonball, seen at 55 secs on the following video. The shot was heading straight for him and he reacted smartly to avoid it. I think the appropriate headline is:

Dickinson's Duck Saves Auckland's Golden Goose!

England's taking it Easy

2009-12-08T22:11:00.010+13:00

The English are typically cocky after their supposedly soft draw has given them a milk run to the World Cup Final next July. This newspaper headline says it all- it's a dream draw; a doddle; dead 'EASY.'

Now, those who were paying attention in third form English class will notice that this headline is an acrostic poem.

I seem to recall having to do first name acrostics at the beginning of each school year. Each letter was supposed to be a representation of the writer's true persona. As the years progressed the words chosen would illuminate the inner turmoil of the youthful poet. For example an optimistic 11 year old Garry might be:

G-reat!
A-wesome!
R-eally good at soccer!
R-ipper!
Y-oung!

But by age 15 poor Garry has realised the true tragic awfulness of this mortal coil and now describes himself as:

G-othic prince
A-ngry!
R-eally, really angry and my
R-retarded heart knows no love
y-oung of years, but old of soul.

Thankfully at 16 Garry discovers girls and the would-be Byron spares the world another awful acrostic outpouring.

So I always thought the acrostic was the last refuge for the unpoetic to shine a glimmer of creativity over a career destined for the prosaic wilderness of the wrecker's yard. There is something terribly simplistic and naive about this form of poetry-much like The Sun's A for Awesome effort.

EASY?

Should England really be so confident? Slovenia are no slouches, trumping perennial World Cup qualifiers the Czechs and Poland in qualifying. Even mighty England has been made to look like a clown when dealing with Poland in past qualifiers.

Algeria booked their tickets to South Africa by beating the African champions Egypt in a pressure cooker atmosphere that would have surely pushed England's pampered millionaires to their limits:

And as for Team USA, soccer is less and less a novelty sport in the land of the free throw, and after a very credible performance at this year's Confederations Cup in South Africa, England would be wise to be wary. We all know what happened the last time England underestimated USA in a World Cup match.

EASY? The Sun's having a larf Garry.

I thought I'd take a look at NZL's group and compose an acrostic headline from the point of view of the Italian tabloids:

P-araguay
I-talia
S-lovakia
A-otearoa-New Zealand

"It's a PISA piss mate!"

Do you have any more suggestions for World Cup group acrostics? Alternative epithets for countries names (i.e. Aotearoa/New Zealand) are allowed.

While you are pondering this poetic puzzler here is a vid* for your enjoyment. It is taken from FIFA's (actually rather good) magazine show Futbol Mundial. Wellington looks gorgeous throughout, despite the fact that the water in the surf shots would be absolutely freezing.

*'Its all about me alert':

When John Adshead picks up the Dominion Post at 2 minutes 10- the back page photo shows me and some of the Yellow Fever boys before the game, as also shown here.

The Bahraini team are training at my local, Newtown Park, as profiled here. Should have spent more time practising penalties...

Jabulani=Celebrate

2009-12-05T15:00:00.007+13:00

In an extravanganza featuring contemporary and traditional african dancers, South African world music star Johnny Clegg, and African sports stars such as Makhaya Ntini, Haile Gebreselassie and, erm, David Beckham, the draw was made for the 2010 World Cup this morning in Capetown.

Here's the song Johnny Clegg did live at the show for you to listen to while you read the rest of this post. I'm not really a fan of Clegg but I thought this was quite catchy, and 'the Scatterlings of Africa' is a nice poetic phrase:

Here is the full draw for South Africa 2010:

For New Zealand Group F will be tough, but as rank outsiders every group looks tough. The top seed in Group F is Italy, and they are the current World Champions. It is unlikely we will ambush them like we did in the 2009 Confederation's Cup warm up match when New Zealand took the lead an incredible three times over Italy before sanity was restored and Italy stumbled home 4-3 winners. The circumstances will be quite different next time we meet.
Paraguay finished third in South American qualifying, racking up wins over Brazil and Argentina. Slovakia finished top of UEFA Group 3, knocking out their former siamese twin and past-powerhouse Czech Republic in the process.

Which group will pick up the inevitable Group of Death tag? On face value it has to be either Group B or Group G. Group G has the mouth watering colonial battle between Brazil and Portugal, dark horse Cote d'Ivoire and complete unknowns North Korea. Group B has African aristocrats Nigeria, the unpredictable Greece, workhorse South Korea and the always competitive Argentina. I also think Australia got a very tough draw in Group D. It could be the turn of the Black Stars of Ghana to shine into the quarter-finals, and Germany are always there at the business end of a FIFA World Cup.

The draw ceremony itself was good fun and made for great television with some hugely (unintentional) comical moments. Draw assistant Charlize Theron was doing her utmost to wind up FIFA General Secretary Jerome Valcke, undercutting the pomposity of the ceremony with faux-naive freestyles and stage whispers. The tension between the two was palpable, FIFA brass obviously worried that Charlize was going to turn into a rampaging mad-libbing monster on them, and pull another stunt like pretending to draw out 'Ireland' from the bowl as she did in the rehearsal.

The loudest guffaw was reserved for poor old confused Sepp Blatter who forgot where the first game was being played and had to have the host, Carol Manana, remind him. For the amount of money he's paid you'd expect him to be completely savvy about his product.

It was a far cry from the last time New Zealand was at a draw ceremony. Apparently the 1982 draw in Spain was thrown into a complete farce when a revolting machine spat the balls all over the floor. This stressed out the FIFA staff, who in turn made the poor Spanish kids, who were roped in to provide the cute factor, cry.
The 2009 version ran like clockwork- micro managed down to the last detail by a legion of FIFA event underlings.

After watching the draw on TV, Miro and I went down to the launch of the official World Cup ball at a sports store in Central Wellington.It was a fairly strange event with a little portable pitch set up inside the store- of course Miro wanted to get on and strut his stuff but there seemed to be some sort of Kid's skills competetion going on to promote Ricki Herbert's new Football Academy. Ricki Herbert was there signing shirts and balls, and he seemed pretty relaxed after the draw. He was constantly taking calls from his assistant Brian Turner, who was at the draw over in SA, and the media looking for a soundbite or two.

The Jabulani ball (An Isizulu word meaning to celebrate) looks as plastic as ten dollar ball from a discount toy store, but I bet it handles like a dream. I would dearly love to take one to the park for a punt or two. Retailing at $200 plus NZD and with only 500 in the country I doubt that I'll be kicking one around Martin Luckie Park anytime soon.

I bought Miro a mini Jabulani ball for xmas, and got Ricki to sign it. It is the perfect size for his little feet to dribble:

Gone to Pot

2009-12-03T08:45:00.004+13:00

The world has gone to pot.*

The 32 (ahem) best football teams in teh wohle world now know who they may come up against at South Africa 2010. Herr Sepp, the great curator, has seeded the top 8 World Cup qualifiers into 'pot' one and allocated the rest into the 3 other pots.

The gardening metaphor of pots and seed is worth exploring.
Pot one is for Sepp's treasured fruit trees- the 8 teams which will bear the coveted summer fruit of South Africa 2010; flowering, blossoming and bringing the honey bees of world media attention to the garden:

Pot one (Current Fifa rankings in brackets)
South Africa (85), Brazil (1), Spain (2) The Netherlands (3), Italy (4), Germany (5),Argentina (6), England (7)

The remaining pots are comprised of the deciduous bric a bracken, the garden's hedging and borders; unlikely to win awards but neccessary to make the flowers and fruit stand out and be noticed.

Some, like Nigeria and Cameroun, are the exotic detailing- tolerated for the colour they bring, but hardly sustenance worthy of being included in the garden's autumnal harvest. Others like New Zealand, Honduras and North Korea are the cute little bonsai- cultivated to a point and then clipped, pruned and set aside as curiosity pieces. Hopefully dusted off and shown a little care and compassion once the great garden show is over.
When the pots were announced the biggest intake of collective breath was reserved for the decision to drop France down to the unseeded pots- not as a karmic kick in the nuts for the Henry affair, but as just rewards for their recent poor form, proving that a Grenouille's green thumb does not guarantee perpetual verdancy in Sepp's magic garden.

Following FIFA's own procedures I made my own mock draw, using an online Excel tutorial to randomly order the 32 teams. As time-unworthy as this excerise was, much like pissing on a lemon tree in a howling southerly, it was a bit of fun. I can tell you that according to my draw New Zealand would be grouped with the Netherlands, France and Chile. Extending my gardening metaphor a little I can also say that if that was the scenario NZ would be mere fertiliser for the Oranjeboom,the Chile plant and the Fleur de Lys.

(For my friends over the ditch, according to my most unscientific draw, Australia ended up with Algeria, Serbia and England. How do you like them Apples?)

*The phrase gone to pot is actually not associated with gardening nor recreational drugs. It is in fact from the industrial revolution when defunct parts were tossed back into the smelting pot to start their time again. Oh cruel fate which tossed Ireland, Bahrain, Bosnia, Egypt et al unceremoniously back into that bubbling pot.

Lights, Camera, Action...

2009-12-02T18:11:00.001+13:00

...Which , as every parent should know, is a particularly catchy tune by Ocker supergroup The Wiggles.

But the phrase has been misappropriated by that other World Media Super Power FIFA to describe the lighting of lamps along Adderley Street in Downtown Capetown, as they gear up towards the wiggly circus that is the FIFA World Cup draw.

Ah! I'm salivating at the merest thought of the hooplah, the pageantry, and the orchestrated litany of pre-ordained catastrophe that is a World Cup Draw.

Meanwhile the bunfighting over the yet to be divvied up 2018 World Cup has begun. As evidenced by this article in the Sunday Star Times. Quite apart from generating some predictably negative and parochial in-fighting based around which region has the better stadium (Auckland or Wellington), or the massive questions around inter-confederational co-hosting, this story has all the hall marks of a 'counting chickens before they fully cross the goal line' scenario. Yes it would be a dream come true to host a group, or even a game, in Aotearoa but Aussie has to win the bid first and most likely won't be using the co-hosting angle as a point of difference.

My personal view is that actual competition games would be a long shot, but the more likely hosting of pre-tournament trainings, friendlies and the associated media junkets means that NZ would be likely to get a piece of the action.

Meanwhile I keep telling my son that next year he will be sitting on daddy's lap while we both enjoy the spectacle of the world's best entertainers in action, resplendent in their traditional, representative colours.

Unfortunately, I think he thinks I mean this.

Ah well, if you can't beat em- join em. Enjoy:

How To Get Your Kicks In Wellington Pt. 2

2009-11-30T18:40:00.001+13:00

A Tragic's Guide to Park Kickabouts: Part Two- Southern and Eastern Suburbs

Here is the next instalment of the guide to the best places to find a kickabout in Wellington.

Wellington's South and Eastern suburbs are traditionally where you'll find the refugees and migrants to whom park kickarounds are an essential part of the social fabric. From strata upon strata of Italian emgires in Island Bay, to the more recent influx of Assyrian and Afghani youth in Newtown and Miramar, the South and East is the place to go for the football tragic in search of a game or two.

There are a number of places to find a kickaround in the South and East. Here are a few of the best:

Newtown Park is not quite kickaround central like it used to be, for a number of reasons, but it is still one of the best places to watch football in Wellington.

Home of Wellington Olympic and Wellington United, it is also the training ground for Team Wellington and Wellington Phoenix. For years the rutted upper field (Newtown #2) has served as a kickaround spot for the large number of migrants and refugees who live in the adjacent flats. But since the upper field has been immaculately restored to accomodate the needs of professional footballers the allowance for informal kickarounds has decreased. Still on sunny summer nights plenty of people still sneak on for a barefooted kick or two, and during Team Wellington games kids replicate the goal fests below by playing on the upper field. With the Zoo next door a chorus of chimpanzee hollers is a nice standby for the roar from the terrace whenever a ball bobbles into the goal over a jersey.

The groundsman lives nearby and will often come by to see whats up. He is a nice guy and is not as grumpy as he first seems. He is just protecting the Council's investment, and will usually just point you in the direction of the other parks in the area that are open.

NEWTOWN PARK

Likelihood of games- 4/10
Location- 9/10 (Number 10 and 23 buses go right by, or its a short walk South from Newtown, and within walking distance of 3-4 other parks)
Other diversions 10/10
Likely participants: Local Somali social teams, dads and kids, Wgtn Phoenix training squad
Other sports to contend with: Athletics (try and get out of the way when the javelins and shot-puts start flying, theres a little bit of history between the park users there!)

Tragic rating= 7.66

Martin Luckie Park

A short jaunt up the hill South of Newtown Park is Martin Luckie Park. This is becoming more and more a place to find a casual game of footie. It is the location for the Council's excellent five a side ethnic footie event Culture Kicks every March, and is the home ground of the Oromo community, an ethnic nroup from Ethiopia who have finished in the quarter finals of Culture Kicks since its inception. The Oromo are usually happy for you to join in, but closer to tournament time they tend to be a little more jumpy about strangers joining in.

One of the best things about MLP is that you can see Wakefield Park and MacAllister Park from nearby vantage points; recently I went to MLP looking for a game there, but to no avail. I went up to the Hockey Stadium nearby and saw some figures flitting about in the distance at MacAllister park, got on my bike and was in luck as the distant figures turned out to be a group of Somali Taxi drivers about to start a game.

MARTIN LUCKIE PARK

Likelihood of games- 6/10
Location-6/10
Other diversions-5/10
Likely participants- social teams training for Culture Kicks
Other sports to contend with: Rugby League(Winter), Softball (Summer-watch out for broken glass around softball diamonds-these guys like to drink), Ultimate Frisbee (The Wgtn Ultimate Frisbee club play their league here on Summer week nights)
Tragic Rating= 5.66

MacAllister Park

A great place to find a kickabout since the main road (Adelaide) runs right past it, and a drive -by is all thats needed to ascertain the likelihood of a game.

Opposite the site of the former Athletic Park Rugby Stadium there is a certain poetic justice that MacAllister, for so long a rugby park, has recently been made a football ground in the winter. As windy as hell when its blowing, it has plenty of stuff for the whole family while papa (or mama) plays. Diversions such as bush walks, mountain bike runs, kite flying or running, really really fast down the gigantic hill at the northern end, (or sliding down it on Stolen Real Estate signs) means this is a classic multi-purpose park. Just make sure you specify top or bottom field when planning a kick-about here, traditionally the bottom field is for football and the top is for touch rugby and the bottom field has the better surface.

MACALLISTER PARK

Likelihood of games- 3/10
Location-9/10
Other diversions-6/10
Likely participants- Families, Somali Taxi Drivers, Preseason trainings (Wgtn Utd)
Other sports to contend with: Cricket, Kite Flyers, Golfers, touch rugby.

Tragic Rating= 6.0

Thanks to Ben over at Crucket for the pic of MacAllister Park

Crawford Green
I have a sentinemtal spot for Crawford Green. The less romantic amongst you would call it a goat track in the middle of a down at heel suburb, but it has the feel of a real village green in that it's surrounded by houses and the kids who live there play there. Strathmore has a growing immigrant population (Afghan, Assyrian, African) who descend upon Crawford Green with beat up old balls of all shape and hue. Samoan families stake their own claim on Crawford Green to play touch rugby, and before this modern influx Crawford Green was a hubbub of Greek community kickarounds- still hosting Olympic AFC's post season social tournie.

CRAWFORD GREEN

Likelihood of games- 8/10
Location-5/10 (furtherest field from the central city profiled so far)
Other diversions-3/10 (good bakeries nearby however)
Likely participants- Refugees and new (and old) migrants
Other sports to contend with: Touch Rugby

Tragic Rating: 5.3

Kilbirnie Park

Kilbirnie Park is a hub for many sports. With The Wellington Regional Aquatic Centre next door, and homeground to Poneke RFC and Marist AFC there is usualy some kind of informal sport going down. Football games are touch and go, though I have seen a regular Chinese gathering down there on Sunday mornings. Like MacAllister Park, it is on the main trunk line so you can peruse the state of play from your car before opting to take part.
KILBIRNIE PARK

Likelihood of games- 4/10
Location-7/10
Other diversions-7/10 (Pop into the pool for a dip afterwards)
Likely participants- Families, College Kids from nearby St Pats, Preseason training (Marist AFC)
Other sports to contend with: Cricket, Rugby

Tragic Rating: 7
-----------------------

This is not intended to be a definitive guide. There are large parts of the city that are outside my consciousness, where I am sure regular kickabouts take place such as Karori Park, Harcourt Park Upper Hutt and Endeavour Park, Whitby. But these would, I believe, be mainly for the locals. Football tourists would rarely strike out for them in the hope of hitting a casual kickabout like you would with a more central park like Nairn Street, and where there are 2-3 other parks within 5 minutes which may also offer up a beautiful game or two.

As I said before please enlighten me if you know of something going down in your little part of the World.

How To Get Your Kicks In Wellington Pt. 1

2009-11-29T19:06:00.000+13:00

A Tragic's Guide to Park Kickabouts

Kickabouts abound in Wellington. They always have, even before the advent of professional football in the Capital. Wellington is a cosmopolitan, immigrant city, and wherever citizens of the World's Game meet, green open spaces are given over to the noble kickabout.

Having admitted I am a Football Tragic I will also admit I am something of a conniseur of park kickabouts. At least in Wellington Central, South or East if there is a kickabout going down I will know about it. So here for your own personal reference is a guide to the best places to find a kickabout in Wellington.

Part One- Central City

There are a number of places to find a kickaround in the central city. Here are a few of the best.

Waitangi Park is an obvious place to start. Smack bang in the middle of town, in Summer it is a hive of action, and increasingly is a place to find a game of football or two.

It is close to the beach for a cooling swim afterwards, and is surrounded by a number of bars if you prefer a bit of internal cooling.

In the past it has been used by The Yellow Fever Fan Club to host five a side games against fans of visiting A-League clubs; both Melbourne and Sydney have been hosted here.

So proximity is in its favour, but the grass is thin and pebbley underneath which can result in nasty grazing, and you are just as likely to find a game of touch, frisbee or even an Arts Festival Event as a game of footie.

At least if there is no footie there's coffee, gelato, basketball, skateboarding or people watching to occupy your time.

WAITANGI PARK

Likelihood of games- 3/10
Location- 9/10
Other diversions 10/10
Likely participants: Backpackers, pissheads (AKA Yellow Fever)
Other sports to contend with: Touch Rugby, Joggers, BMX, Skateboarders, Petanque, Basketballers.

Tragic rating= 7.3

Prince of Wales Park

Nestled in the hilly suburb of Mount Cook, Prince of Wales Park is not quite as grand as its name suggest. Really a rugby and cricket ground it is quite a popular kickabout spot in the summer season. There are, however two parks, so if organising a game here make sure you specify top or bottom field lest you split the participants.
If there are no games on the bush walks are quite fun, and it is only a short hop to one of the most consistent kickaround locations: Nairn Street Park.

PRINCE OF WALES PARK

Likelihood of games- 5/10
Location-6/10 (pretty but hard to find)
Other diversions-6/10
Likely participants- social teams in pre-season training
Other sports to contend with: Rugby (Winter), Cricket (Summer) Mountain Bikers, Harriers,

Tragic Rating= 5.6

Nairn Street Park

This is one of the best places to pick up a game in Wellington. Situated on a ridge on the way to Brooklyn it has a sweeping view of the harbour. The steep walk up is tough but means that you'll be warm by the time you reach the field. With plenty of low-rent Council Housing nearby refugees and migrants, as well as clued-up backpackers flock to the park on Sunny Sundays to play footie. Sportzone Sports run their Summer footie out of here so on Summer week nights there are always games on, not neccesarily pick up, but if you take your boots and smooch around chances are you'll get a run at some point. Sportzone's industry, however, does mean that by the end of Summer parts of Nairn are dustier than the Sahara, but it also means that there are usually good field markings to negate 'ball out of play' arguments.
If there are no games on the views are great for picnics and Central Park is just across the road with an extensive network of walks and a great playground for the weans.

NAIRN STREET PARK

Likelihood of games- 9/10
Location-9/10
Other diversions-6/10
Likely participants- teams in pre-season training, African migrants, strong culture of mixed (men and women) games.
Other sports to contend with: Frisbee, Picnicers, Stoners.

Tragic Rating= 8.0

Rugby League Park

Training ground for the Wellington Lions and Wellington Hurricanes Rugby teams, RL Park is an unlikely place to find a football kickabout. But most Sunday mornings there is a regular kickaround here run by a group of tragics known as Newtown Athletic FC. More recently the Yellow Fever have been holding regular kickarounds here as well. They even update the time and date on a special forum thread:

http://www.yellowfever.co.nz/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=10206

Rugby League Park is also going to be the location of the City's second purpose built Generation 3 artificial, so it will no doubt be a hub of informal football, if you manage to kick the Tongan International Rugby team off it first.

RUGBY LEAGUE PARK

Likelihood of games- 10/10 (only because you can check the website first)
Location-8/10
Other diversions-5/10
Likely participants- Yellow Feverites and other hungover tragics such as myself
Other sports to contend with: Profesional Rugby Players who won't brook no sissyness

Tragic Rating: 7.6

So thats the lowdown on the city- Nairn Park is the best place for casual kickabouts, but if you want a guaranteed turnout cast an eye over the Yellow Fever forum and find out what time the next game is on at Rugby League Park.

Coming next: The Tragic's Guide to Kickarounds in the Southern and Eastern Suburbs, and Park Football Etiquette.

(If I have forgotten a park in the central city, or if you know of a place to find regular kickabouts please enlighten me in the comments section below)

How tragic

2009-11-26T18:07:00.000+13:00

It's been one week since I launched this blog on the crest of a wave of NZ football success.

In that week I have made 8 posts, acquired 1 ~~cyberstalker~~ follower (Hi Robb!), had 1 comment from across the ditch (Hi Hamish!), refused 1 request from Dom Post to interview me on my sock story (I thought it was fine for a blog, but would look a wee bit twee on a broadsheet, don't ya think?) and had 197 views since I installed that little clicker thing last Friday night.

Granted about 30 of those views are me obsessing about my blog, and I did blackmail my football team with diminished game time next season if they didn't come and have a squiz, but the rest are legit- mainly, I think from the Yellow Fever Website, on which I am a regular poster boy.

Immediately after I launched the blog I did a google search for the phrase Foootball Tragic and came across this blog: http://thefootballtragic.blogspot.com/

(Why I didn't search before I named the blog escapes me!)

Like Mike Salter, The Aussie Football Tragic, the name Football Tragic was also in "within easy reach in my subconscious", a kind of shortcut to explain a life made complicated by the simplest game.

So as part homage, and part explanation, to Mike, here are my own credentials, or lack thereof, for being a Football Tragic.

Arguments AGAINST calling myself a Football Tragic:

1. I don't have a club.

When I was younger I'd tell people I supported Everton because I fell for football in the 80's, when the Toffees were a force. But I soon realised I knew f'all about the FA Cup Winners of 1984. The Hand of God Blog does a better job of describing the incongruity of being a football supporter in a time and place when there were no big local clubs to support, at least not on the goggle nor google box.

Now when people hear I like football they always ask me what team I support, and I shrug. I have to be honest and say I don't have one- I genuinely follow football for the sake of football. Sure there are teams I believe are more worthy than others, and of course I follow my local clubs such as Wellington United, Team Wellington and the resurgent Phoenix, but when Wellington secured an A-League Franchise my joy was more about the chance to see better quality football, to have the experience of banter and game-day rituals than the blind devotion of following a club which shares your postcode.

2. I know a truckload about football, but I don't really know anything about football.

I know things like club nicknames and how they got them, I know why they chose their colours, I know all about the 'miracle on grass' and the 'Battle of Berne' but I draw a blank when it comes to modern tactics, and the most recent signings of this club or that.

Before the recent World Cup qualifier every fan was talking about what formation Ricki Herbert should play, and how the weather would affect the match- I didn't really know, and I didn't really care. I suspect that most tactical discussions are at their heart naive, since football is a game of a mere 90 minutes but a full 90 emotions, where a gee'd up manager on the sideline shouting insights like "give it some welly!" and " put it back in the mixer!" is as influential as the logical stare of a sang froid 'tactician.'.

In my own humble opinion I think Ricki makes decisions with his heart anyway, and the gamble to play three strikers home and away against Bahrain was a master stroke of instinct over the accepted conventions of knock-out football.

Arguments FOR calling myself a Football Tragic:

1. Like I already said- I know a lot about football.

I am a jogging encyclopaedia of arcana- none of it useful and most of it football. But, unlike most trainspotters, I am always happy to be proven wrong and to learn from a mistake- like the time I told a Bavarian native that his club Bayern Munich was named after a pharmaceutical company, mistaking them for Bayer Leverkusen. Now that was embarassing.

2. I waste copious amounts of time on seemingly pointless 'football related' projects.

Like searching google earth for bird's eye views of football stadia, or even park football, to try and find pictures of actual games being played. (Don't tell me you haven't done this.) It's like a Where's Wally where Wally wears footie boots.

I compile stats from my own club games (yes, Capital Football Div 9- very sad) Stats like shots on and off target, corners conceded, corners won. Who cares? I do.

3. I really really really like watching and playing football.

I will watch it anywhere, anytime and in any format. From juniors to street football, from indoor to park kickabouts, I think I'd rather watch a mediocre game of footie than a very good game of Rugger such as Super 14 etc. (But never having been to a live All Blacks game I will hold fire on that one until I have seen my first All Black Haka in the flesh).

I try and take a ball with me where ever I go (there are two stashed in the car). If there are no kids or willing adults about to play ball I'll day dream cup winning volleys on an empty park till the cows come home.

I went on a holiday to Rarotonga and packed a size 4 ball (for the extra space). Once there I took off on a moped, and at Titikaveka School I found some boys playing Rugby. Once I pulled out the ball the game soon changed, though the island boys could not help the odd Henry-esque flourish of the hand or two, so deeply engrained was the Rugby tradition.

I was meant to leave the ball behind to plant a seed of soccer on that rocky Webb Ellis enclave but I couldn't do it. What if someone wanted to play with me at the airport?

Now that's tragic.

Feeling a bit like Billy the Fish

2009-11-25T07:39:00.000+13:00

I was meant to write a big blog spot tonight about my football tragic credentials etc etc

It was all already mapped out in my everbusy melon, BUT, a three hour power cut in Newtown meant no computer, and that coupled with a gorgeous spring evening chatting with neighbours over Reisling and Scrumpy means I feel a little bit like Billy the Fish;

Flapping about out of water in imminent danger of an England call up? Stay tuned loyal readers...

Two Games of Two Halves

2009-11-24T19:40:00.000+13:00

Yesterday I saw 90 minutes of local football action. But the first 45 was at Newtown Park where Team Wellington and Otago United were locked at 0-0 at the break, and then a few hours later I went to the pub where I caught the second half of Wgtn Phoenix as they wilted in sweltering temperatures in Newcastle. So I witnessed no goals, although both matches bore them. Team Wellington going down to two second half Otago strikes. 0 from 3 at home this season for Team Welly; a disasterous start to a much lauded campaign- even back up All White's Keeper Jimmy Bannatyne was unable to save their blushes. My mate Dave 'Writer's Block' Armstrong ponficated as we watched the Nix that Team Wellington tried to play like a team of stars but Otago United were a team, and that, he said, is the secret of winning football.

Dave and I chatted away over a delicious Three Boys Golden Ale at Bar Edward, as the Phoenix clung to a first half lead courtesy of a Paul Ifill volley. In the end the bush-fire temperature was the winner as both teams tired, but strangely Newcastle burnt out much quicker. The home team's perfomance was typified by the day dreams of a dozy ball boy, who took a hazy age to return a ball to the Jet's keeper as he raced the clock to nick a share of the points. The whole pub liked my "even your ball boys are shit" quip, although to be fair the lad was probably just bored and dehydrated.

So the Nix stay in 6th and pick up their first win on the road since November 7th.

In between the two games I attended a 4th Birthday party with as much chocolate cake as you could care to eat, and had to take my son to the park to run off the sugar rush afterwards. At Crawford Green a melange of refugee tweenies lined up potshots at a disinterested 4 foot goalkeeper. The boys, from Assyria, Afghanistan and Oromo backgrounds (I know cos I had taught them all before many years ago) were only too happy to have an adult go in goal to stop their shots, even if i was really only trying to stop Miro being clattered as he grubbed around the goal mouth. Without getting too mushy it was great to see the different tribes mixing it up on a nice Sunday afternoon, even if I had to leave the field of play to take Miro back for bathtime.

And tonight I had an unexpected call up for more Twilight Football Action. We played a very good side made up of Wgtn United first and second teamers. I struggled with a belly full of pasta and a glass of red wine but scored a nice solo goal. I realised I am not quite the athlete I think I am- more the archetypal park striker, all bluster and brazen, able to pull of a flukey goal or two but lazy in the track back and costly in defence.

Tomorrow I aim to give you more of an insight into my 'football tragic' credentials, as promised to Hamish from the Lucky Country.

It was one week ago today…

2009-11-21T12:39:00.001+13:00

…(as the Beatles didn’t sing in Sergeant Peppers) in which the White Noise descended upon Wellington Stadium to spur New Zealand on to the Football World Cup.

I got my own little bit of Instant Karma this week with a nice pay back from a photographer I helped out after the game. Peter McDonald, a photographer with the Fairfax stable, saw me running off with the Player Mascots after the anthems and asked me the name of the kid standing with Skipper Ryan Nelsen. I didn’t know but told him I’d find out and tell him after the game. In the post-victory pandemonium I forgot to find him, so on Monday morning I tracked down Peter’s number and gave him the child’s info, including the fact that he was a Petone Junior and that his great Uncle was Barry Pickering, third choice keeper in the 82 team. Peter said this would all make for a nice local colour piece in his employer’s Hutt News community paper, and thanked me for following up.

So as a kind of thanks I guess Peter was happy to fulfil my request for some photos from the match, and of the Players’ Mascots, who I had looked after before the game.

While the Petone Juniors were well pleased that they got to stand next to the All Whites I thought the tougher job was for the Western Suburbs Juniors, who accompanied Bahrain. I told them they had to fight their patriotism and be neutral,that the Bahraini team would be nervous and would need their support. So I was thrilled when this story surfaced about one of the Mascots wishing his Bahraini player good luck, in a most uniquely Kiwi way. I remember Manaia cos he was quiet and calm while others were winding themselves up in anticipation. Coincidentally or not Manaia is a Maori word meaning Spiritual Guardian.

So below are the photos which Peter sent through, not exclusive to this sight per se but still a unique insight into the historic win last Saturday, and my small part in the match.

ALL photos courtesy and copyright of Peter McDonald

No comparison

2009-11-20T20:12:00.001+13:00

I feel I have to comment on the Thierry Henry incident further, since it is all over the sports headlines, has been tabled in the Irish Parliament, and I even overheard a greengrocer on Cuba St. expounding the relative moralism of Platini's 1980's French side versus this less deistic incarnation of Les Bleus.

What gets me is that Henry's handball is being compared to the infamous 1986 "Hand of God" Maradona handball. To me there is simply no comparison.

Henry's foul was an ugly, blatant double handle. He even had the Gaul to admit as much afterwards:

Maybe I am a little naive, but in comparison Maradona's foul was a piece of artistry. As someone described (maybe Diesgo himself?) he 'pickpocketed' the English with his sleight of hand:

It was a great leap by a little man against the giant Shilton. The deception continued at the press conference when he was asked if he handled the ball. That was when coined the phrase saying "if there was a hand, it was god's hand." and besides he sealed the deal a few minutes later by doing this:

Maradona's goal was clever. Henry's was a disgrace. No comparison.

The statute of limitations has run out on the England-Argentina World Cup Quarter-Final. It has entered folklore and will never be replayed (although I'd love to see a geriatric Shilton versus a coked-up Diego). But FIFA should follow precedent and replay the France-Ireland World Cup Qualifier.

All Aboard Zulu Air Flight SA2010!

2009-11-19T22:00:00.000+13:00

Today was a classic football day. The last of the 32 places were confirmed for South Africa 2010, some booked their places by fair means and some by foul, but at least we know who'll be joining the Whitebait (as oppossed to minnows) New Zealanders on the world's biggest stage next June.

I also played some 'twilight football' at Nairn St. Park, kinda like a spiritual home for football for me in Wellington since this is where I started picking up games. Twilight is a 5 a side version of football and on a still warm evening like tonight it is great fun. Plus we won 6-1.

I ended up wearing the sock. It was nice piece of kit and it looked great. When I put it on I noticed the number 4 on the bottom so I guess it belonged to Abdulla Baba Fatadi:

The day began with my 1 year old son, Miro, waking me at 5.30am to play wrestle . The upside of the rude awakening was that listening to the 6.00am news I realised the final World Cup Qualifiers were being played this very morning. I tuned into Justin.tv and watched the last 45 of Algeria V. Egypt, being played on neutral soil in Sudan.

The internet is a stunning invention. At home in my pyjamas in Wellington I watched the angst and ecstasy of a live World Cup play off in Africa, in between showing Miro a slideshow of all the Flicker photos in the world tagged with "Plane". Fun for the whole family!

What struck me about the the Algeria/Egypt tie was that for all FIFA's attempts at homogenising and sanitising the world game, with its clock watching Match Commissoners, Stadium "Look" programmes and referee's directives, football is still a sprawling, polyglottal mess of emotions and cultures. When the referee blew for full time, sending Algeria to the World Cup on the back of a single, brilliant goal, all chaos broke loose in the Sudanese stadium; Smoke, gun-toting soldiers and the Algerian keeper climbing the cross bar in elation. A far cry from the comparitively safe and orderly celebrations in Wellington.

So the full 32 are known. The usual suspects are there- it wouldn't be a World Cup without Brazil, Germany, England, Italy & Netherlands. Spain are there as reigning European Champions and former greats France had to rely on a dastardly mugger's goal against lowly Ireland to qualify- for Shame!

Amongst the gatecrashers are North Korea (!),Greece, Algeria, Slovenia, New Zealand and Honduras. Coincidentally the last time Honduras was in a World Cup was 1982 as well.

There is a certain poetic justice that the last team to qualify was Uruguay. Once feted and proud, winner of 2 FIFA World Cups, Uruguay is now forced to play off against the likes of Costa Rica for their seat on the last plane to footballing mammon.

Here is the full list of countries competing in World Cup 2010, in the order in which the qualified:

South Africa (Hosts)
Japan
Australia
Korea Republic (South Korea)
Netherlands
Korea DPR (North Korea)
Brazil
Ghana
England
Spain
Paraguay
Cote D'Ivoire
Germany
Denmark
Serbia
Italy
Chile
Mexico
United States
Switzerland
Slovakia
Argentina
Honduras
New Zealand
Nigeria
Cameroon
Algeria
Greece
Slovenia
Portugal
France
Uruguay

A most stressful position

2009-11-18T18:41:00.001+13:00

Spot the difference:

One came to power on a wave of expectation lauded by a public who thought he could right the wrongs of the past and lead the nation into the history books, staking a rightful claim amongst other world powers. He failed miserably and plummeted in public esteem after a catastrophic fall from grace.... The other is former Soviet Leader Boris Yeltsin.

Bahraini football coach Milan Macala, a Czech, will no doubt fall on his sword, or be pushed upon it, after another fall-at-the -last-hurdle World Cup Crusade.

He has finally spoken out saying that his team felt the stress and pressure of the do or die World Cup game in Wellington.

Being a football manager is no doubt a stressful job, as evidenced by the high rate of heart attacks among top flight coaches, but with the risk comes reward and when the dust settles it is, after all, just a game of football.

Try talking about stress and pressure to Macala lookalike Boris Yeltsin. After a tenure pockmarked with corruption, guerilla war and economic collapse you could forgive him for going a wee bit Britney on it:
Yeltsin Highlights Reel

Here's hoping that Macala, by all accounts an honourable foe for All Whites Coach Ricki Herbert last weekend, exits with a bit more grace.

A single red sock

2009-11-17T21:23:00.000+13:00

I have always been a scavenger. Like a magpie I strut about the abandoned battlements looking for the golden cartridge which felled the colonel.

In my youth I lived nearby the Arawa racecourse in Rotorua. After raceday I'd scour the grandstand for coin & a winner's lost ticket, often financing a week's worth of lolly from the Dairy with my pickings.

After the New Zealand v. Bahrain World Cup Qualifier last Saturday, while the All Whites dressing room heaved to the Black Eyed Peas (great team- terrible choice of post match music IMHO), the Bahraini dressing room stood empty with the door invitingly ajar.

Some minutes earlier I had seen a most sombre sight outside this very door. The Bahraini number 16, Sayed Mohamed Adnan, who had one hour earlier missed a penalty, a goal which would surely have taken his small (but incredibly rich) island nation to the World Cup in South Africa, was coiled in the foetal position on the ground; a towel over his head, an Official kneeling at his side. Sobbing inconsolably his despair spoke volumes about what the miss meant to him and to his country- a deep gulf of guilt consuming his psyche.

So when I saw that the Bahrainis had sidled off silently into the windy night I was curious as to how they had left the scene of their collective crime.

The dressing room was still and quiet- tape cuttings strewn all over the floor and benches. A full box of bananas and apples left untouched on a table, a fridge full of red and blue Powerade. Pretty standard post stress disorder really, except for a little red sliver in the corner- a single red sock.

I had noticed the Bahraini kit during the game- spiffing Puma brand socks, shirts and jerseys- all elasticity and promise, and now here was a discarded specimen.

I scooped it up, popped it into my bag and searched for its brother. On a massage table I saw it; massacred-cut up into three strips for tape, or perhaps some ritualistic suicide bandana which Mohamed Adnan had prepared for himself, fearing the wrath of his return to Bahrain.

I was a little distraught as I had already pictured myself turning up at a park kick about somewhere with my World Cup Bahraini socks pulled up over my knees, but now this was a lop sided fantasy.

What should I do? There is already a tidy little market in All Whites’ qualification memorabilia, as evidenced by the scorn and angst on this Yellow Fever (All White fans’) forum thread.

But this is different, this is no winner’s trophy- it reeks of failure, despite its rosy hue.

Should I wash it to wear again, or leave it sweat soaked with misery? Shall I auction it online for charity or keep it as my own sordid little souvenir? Help me with my angst fellow football tragics…what should I do with my lonely red sock?

Welcome to the life of a football tragic

2009-11-17T13:33:00.000+13:00

Everybody's blogging at me. / I don't hear a word they're saying, / Only the echoes of my mind:

Welcome to the life of a football tragic. I grew up in the last large landmass to be discovered, a long necklace of pearly jewels dripping from the humid South Pacific to the cold Southern Ocean- not exactly tropical, but lush and fruitful, and full of warrior mystique.

I'm talking about New Zealand/Aotearoa, which glistens like a pearl at the bottom of the whirl.

Heavens above, so many myths abound here about aggression and confrontation- how the demi god Maui stunned the Sun so as to create more hours in the day, or how the true-to-life chieftan Te Rauparaha created the All Blacks a new Haka by hiding from a raiding party in a kumara pit under a Kuia's fanny.

It's like our men and women were born to punch above their weight- a typically aggressive turn of phrase that is wheeled out every time our sports teams achieve somesuch semi-miracle, or a rural bred scientist has split some past-participle or otherford. But last Saturday night, as a football tragic, I witnessed a true sporting miracle, when for only the second time in my lifetime New Zealand qualified for the 2010 Football World Cup in South Africa-Praise Sepp Blatter!

I had the honour of playing a behind the scenes role in the tragi-comedy too- employed by New Zealand Football to recruit and organise the Stretcher bearers, and to coordinate the darling wee players' escorts; the juniors who hold the players' hand during the opening stanza.

Here is a Youtube clip taken by my colleague Ken, of us all lining up in the tunnel- the atmosphere is electric, but tragic as I am I am far too focussed on the job at hand, to be overwhelmed by the moment. Can you spot me:

More about my tragic life in the days to come, and more about that fateful night too

Stay tuned amigos~