The Show Ends

Ah... and so the show ends. The world cup travels to Rome and the street cleaners of Berlin sweep away the remnants of a month left behind by long nights of foreigners drinking and locals celebrating irregardless of results. The world cup isn't really there to celebrate nations or teams or even heroes, these are just incidentals in the larger scheme of things - the world cup is there to celebrate football. Not nearly the lofty humanitarian ideals of the olympics, but still, you can't fault the celebration of football. And we've seen some pretty good football across the last four weeks.

Germany was a thrill to watch, with Klinnsmann breathing a good gust of fresh air into a nation we all feared was fast depleting in guts and style. Their incredible comeback against Argentina, and their subsequent victory in penalties, proved that there is a lot of life left kicking in these German legs. When Bastian Schweinsteiger drove home (literally) two piledrivers against Portugal, he only confirmed for us what we should have known all month - Germany are very, very on.

The African countries were quite a joy to watch - Ghana and Ivory Coast were thrilling in their attacking brand of football. And while we'd appreciate a cut back on their simulation, we'd all love to see them back in the world cup again.

England was a disappointment - frustrating as it was always going to be. Holland gave us early flutters but went out with a limp (again, literally) while Spain once again gave us false reason to believe. Argentina and Brazil both went out in the quarters, one could have gone further, the other could have gone out earlier. And Portugal, well, they played some really good football at times, and but for a few individuals soiling the gloss of their football itself, they did give us the best latin flair to a tournament dominated otherwise by organised european traditions.

France was a surpise, weren't they? One week into the world cup, i spoke to a jersey shop guy whose answer to my query if he had any France jerseys summed up public opinion of them prior to their great run: "Takde boss. Peranchis kali ni drop la" ("None boss. The French have dropped"). Yet, they took out some big names en route to the final in a run that must surely redeem them from their less than glorious immediate past.

And then there's Italy - world champions for the fourth time. Who - other than Secawan Bola - would have been crazy enough to predict Italy winning this world cup? When all the hype surrounded the magic quartet and recovering metatarsals, this tight-knit blue machine ploughed through a tough group and then shifted gears in their awe-inspiring semi-final triumph over Germany. Their collossal defenders, galloping fullbacks and tireless midfielders will forever infuse all memories connected to this tournament now.

And so we pack up the snacks, give the tv a break and return to our normal lives, penning, as a final homage to wild month of relentless football watching our allstar XIs.

In the meantime, your Secawan Bola editors are on what we believe is a well-deserved holiday. When we come back, we'll sit around again and see if the blog will be back after the summer, all pumped up up for the new football season. We'll let you know.

Until then... keep your mind off football and go do something else.

Cheers and thanks for reading.

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