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.
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 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.
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.
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!)
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.
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.
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:
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:
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:
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 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.
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.
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:
…(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
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?
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.
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
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