World Cup 2006: Argentina's long fall

By Emerald Gao
Written on June 30, 2006

Sorin's voice reading out that anti-racism message was strong, impossibly strong and that's the kind of conviction I should have. Of course, I'm not the one out there, playing my heart out. I couldn't do that day in and day out. Footballers are all heroes, even the mean ones, even the ugly ones, even, perhaps, the lazy ones.

This wasn't a Confederations Cup screw-up. This wasn't self-implosion or hubris. This was simply Argentina being on the losing side of a battle. Pekerman and his drunk-dial formations might have played a part, but it certainly didn't seem to condemn Argentina for the most part.

Every match is a 90 minute battle. You think of all the big wars throughout history; they lasted years and years. (Of what? Of toil, of bloodshed, of courage. Or devastating loss, if you are unlucky.) And that's the way football works: you can't win by having a fifteen minute skirmish out on the grass. You have to buckle down for 90 minutes, sometimes more, and you don't hope for a moment of tactical or individual brilliance from your teammates, or a mistake from the opponents. You go out and create those moments for yourself. That's what I thought of first when I saw the team come out in their away kits -- boys going off to war. And as overly romanticized as that is, it's the best way I know how to describe what the match was like for me.

Let's talk about the formation. Tevez was obviously brought on to try and wreak havoc against Arne Friedrich, who (up to this point) has been Germany's weak point along the back. I thought he could also test the central defenders as well. His role was outlined from the very beginning, as he was triple-teamed. Their advantage? Passing and possession. Germany's advantage? Height and speed.

Frings vs Riquelme. Ballack vs Mascherano. Lahm vs Maxi Rodriguez. Freidrich vs Tevez. Klose vs Heinze. Podolski vs Coloccini. Whoever won those battles would give a huge advantage to their team. These two teams have completely different playing styles, and if the players could keep their focus on the match instead of each other, it had the most potential for beautiful football out of any of the quarterfinal matches. A lot of matchups showed their flame early. Riquelme's light shove on Klose, and two early fouls on Mascherano that got Podolski carded in the third minute. A very testy start, and I hoped ref Lubos Michel wouldn't have to blow the whistle every fifteen seconds, although Heinze gave him a few reasons to, haagh.

Argentina nearly fell behind when Germany found room on the break, and Schneider sent in a chipped pass that Ballack met with a diagonal run into the box but headed wide. Both teams were doing a good job of neutralizing each other, although the playmakers occasionally found room by going out to the wings. Neither team was giving up many chances, but Argentina played with some measure of control, and, for the most part, they were in it. Germany couldn't get forward, and Argentina's pressure kept their fans going loud and strong as well. Tevez shredded the German defense to pieces in the first half, both in the offense and defense, but the Germans held on well, to their credit.

Argentina showed their intention by going ahead early in the second half; I hadn't expected them to score from any set pieces, because of the height issue, but lord, if anybody could beat the Germans at height, it was going to be Ayala. Maxi won a corner off Lahm, and Riquelme's ball found Ayala in the center of the box, in front of Klose.

The commentators were dancing around the word, but not really saying it: mettle. Would the Germans show enough mettle to come back and bend the scoreline around? They tried, valiantly, but Argentina beat them back time and time again. Ballack should have shown more mettle when Pato made a huge calculation error on a corner kick and the ball fell to him, but his shot was blocked squarely by Ayala, and the resulting ball in was gathered easily by the keeper. Klinsmann put Odonkor on to add some energy into the attack, which made me nervous, because he's one player who has the potential to cause damage in the latter stages of a game.

Pato had been kneed by Klose on that corner, and was in more pain than everyone originally thought, so Franco replaced him. This was bad. And it got worse, as Cambiasso lined up to come on for Roman. This was turning a bit horrible. Lucho would have be the playmaker in charge of keeping possession, which hasn't worked in the past, but we had to trust Pekerman. Argentina went close again after the switch as Crespo intercepted a lazy pass in the defense, but Tevez's pass out wide to Maxi only resulted in a shot that hit the side netting.

The worst call that Michel made was when Odonkor kicked at thin air, went down like he was shot, and the free kick was given. But Germany's shots just weren't going in, and this free kick hit the wall with a satisfying smack. Crespo worked his butt off, and made a second interception in the Germany half, but he was getting tired as well, and Cruz came on as Pekerman's second unorthodox substitution.

With all of the abrupt changes in the Argentina squad, Germany were gifted with too much possession in the midfield, and it paid off for them. Some confident play down the left resulted in a ball in from Ballack, a flick on from Borowski, and then Klose's header from a diagonal run finding the back of the net. Neuville replaced the goalscorer, and the spectacle continued. Maxi was carded for diving. A pass from Cruz led to a header by Lucho Gonzalez, which Lehmann saved really well, despite Tevez acting as a screen right in front of the goal. The subs were playing much better at this point, creating chances and winning balls, but Germany were also constant threats on the counter.

This was a long war, with some casualties and a well fought deadlock.

Overtime started and it was shaky for Argentina. Someone needed to take charge in the attack, but Tevez was tired and Lucho had been strangely missing all game. Germany sat back in the second half of overtime, allowing Argentina to come at them. Coloccini had two shots, one of them just clipping the crossbar. Coloccini did a great job containing Lahm and Schweinsteiger in the first half, which made me happy because he gets so much abuse from the fans. Ballack looked destroyed, but carried on bravely.

Penalty kicks. I'd chewed my way through three mate teabags already and I had a sinking feeling in my stomach at this point. How ironic is it that Pato, whom many Argentina fans had pegged as only useful for penalty shootouts, had already been subbed out due to injury, and wouldn't be able to prove himself? Lehmann, well, we all know how good he is at saving PKs, and credit to him, he was there and ready to be the hero for his team. And you know, Pato might have won this game for his team.

It's not the end of the world, but it felt for a moment like it was. You can't blame home advantage, because in every match there is a home advantage, but something did go wrong. Argentina lost possession in the midfield. When Riquelme was taken off -- and I couldn't have seen that, because Pekerman had gotten it right for so many games now, but maybe there was an injury, or maybe there was some misplaced faith in some of the bench players, but yeah, I don't want to place the blame on anybody at this point. Maybe Ayala and Cambiasso should have just whalloped the ball down the middle instead of trying to place it, maybe Lucho should have done more in the midfield, or maybe it does go back to Pato's injury and how much that substitution messed up the tactics that Pekerman had in mind. It's a war, and there are casualties.

I don't know what Bierhoff did to provoke the Argentinian players after the end of the match, but it must have been bad to get Heinze and some of the others so wound up, but I'm sad that there was so much anger. In any case, that was an emotional exit and I'm damn proud of the team for making it so far, for playing really good football throughout.

You know what? Yes, Argentina's tears do affect me more than other team's tears, but I still hate seeing them cry. I knew Mascherano would tear up, and steeled myself against that image that still haunts me from the summer of 2003, but what can you do in the face of agony? Cambiasso's tears were almost as bad, because they streamed down the face of a man who wanted to turn back time, to make a different choice, and we've all seen that film. Maybe it's not fair to go out on penalty kicks, after playing such a good match, but the sport isn't fair. I've also been on the opposite side of that sentiment (see also: Liverpool's last two competition finals), and just as I celebrated snatching victory then, I'll mourn the loss of a dream now.

I think I need to go make myself lunch. But first, I'll fold my Argentina shirts up and put them away, and hang my scarf up for a future date.

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