Australia 1- Norway 0

From xxxx@xxx.no Fri Feb  7 08:45:46 EST 1997
From: Stig Oppedal 
Newsgroups: rec.sport.soccer,rec.sport.football.pro
Subject: [Whoops!] Four Matches And A False Idea
Date: Thu, 06 Feb 1997 20:24:02 +0100

Saturday the 25th to Sunday the 26th of January, 1997. Not since the '94 Olympics had I experienced such a big-ass TV weekend: several movies (The Big Chill, Full Metal Jacket, Casablanca), four football matches (Australia vs. Norway, Manchester United vs. Wimbledon, Newcastle United vs. Nottingham Forest, Chelsea vs. Liverpool), and Super Bowl XXXI (Green Bay Packers vs. New England Patriots).

Monday the 27th of January, 1997. My computer screen goes kaput as I start writing about aforementioned big-ass TV weekend. Seeing as how my previous screen caught fire a short while ago, I'm sure you can appreciate the frustration I felt at seeing its replacement die on me. Around 13:30 GMT you might have heard someone shouting "fuck you, fuck you, fuck you... Fuck YOU! Fuck YOU!" - that would have been me having an animated discussion with a very inanimate object.

Tuesday the 4th of February, 1997. "Cheers" re-run. SAM: Aw, c'mon, do you know much action there is in thirty minutes of a football game? DIANE: About 18 seconds.

The first match, between the Coca-Cola Socceroos (a.k.a. Australia) and Norway, was the final game of a four nation tournament down under. Earlier on South Korea had defeated New Zealand 3-1, which meant that Australia would secure a victory in the tournament with a draw, while Norway needed an outright win. I wasn't holding my breath in anticipation. It's only a misplaced sense of duty that'll get you out of your bed on a Saturday morning to watch Norway play a meaningless international. You just can't win. Either the regulars play, in which case you can expect zero effort, or, as now, the second-stringers play, in which case you'll see a team that looks as if it first met at the airport. But in Drillo we trust, and if pain (ours) = gain (his) then I suppose these winter migrations are worthwhile.

Norway are widely regarded as long-ball hoofers, and it's games like this that confirms that reputation. Scttr vwls 't rndm n ths sntnc & y'll hv th Nrwgn tctc vs. th Cc Cl Sccrs - hphzrd lng blls wth zlch ffct. Australia had this towering goalkeeper who, apart from a few early glitches, took everything in the air. _Everything_. Corners. Crosses. Free kicks. Long balls from the back four. Needless to say, Australia won the match, 1-0. Ironically enough, the goal came from a high cross from the right, which was headed in by an unmarked player.

Despite the overwhelming evidence I still think that Norway's problem _isn't_ overplaying the long ball, but rather inflexibility. The Norwegian players stick to the game plan even when it's clearly not working. In the 3-0 defeat against The Netherlands in November 1995, for example, Norway based their attacks on a short passing game centered on Bohinen. He unfortunately had a very poor game, and the attacks inevitably broke down. It wasn't until the _last five minutes_, however, that Norway tried the long ball option, which in this case should have been used much earlier. Against Australia it was merely the same disease (inflexibility) with a different symptom (long balls).

[reports of the other games mentioned at the start deleted]

So I wondered what I'd do in the mean time. For some reason I remembered something I had realized while in Athens: I knew who Socrates was, and how he died, before I knew who Jesus Christ was, and how he died. My parents weren't exactly religious fanatics, so I had only a vague notion about who JC was, knowing him chiefly from expressions such as "Jeee-zus!", "Jesus H. Christ!", etc. It was first during a book assignment in the spring of 1983 that I found out that he was this guy who claimed to be God's son, that he was nailed to a cross at Easter, and that he supposedly thereby redeemed our sins. As an aside note, it took me a few years to realize that God's original plan with sending his only son to Earth _wasn't_ to get him crucified.

Socrates had come to my attention a few months earlier, in the December 1982 issue of "Games" magazine. During the half-time interval I rummaged through my closet, found that particular issue, and re-read the pulp fiction pastiche "The Hemlock Kiss-Off". Sledge Hammer, time-traveling private eye, gets sent back to 399 BC Athens to find out the real story behind Socrates' death. Hammer discovers that Socrates was actually acquitted of the impiety charges, but the philosopher gets poisoned during a symposium -and the prime suspects are Xanthippe, Alcibiades, Hippias, and Plato. "'Did anyone inform the police?' 'The _polis_? Sure, the whole city knows about it.'... I looked out across the slumbering street and realized once again that history is a sewer that flows from the past to the present. Sometimes you need a plumber's helper like me to unclog it.". With great stuff like this, who needs a classical education?

In his dialogues, the real Plato expressed his so-called theory of ideas in different guises. One variant orders objects in a four-tiered hierarchy: shadows, real objects, abstract models, and eternal ideas, the only true reality, of which the other forms are but pale imitations. At that early hour in the morning, it struck me that the weekend's football matches reflected this:

1. Australia vs. Norway: a shadowy glimpse of what football is about - a playing field, a ball, two sets of players, three match officials, and some fans.

2. United vs. Wimbledon: a football match - two teams who at times played attractive football, a packed stadium, and an external context that made the game meaningful (the FA Cup). However, an unfamiliar 5-2-3 formation was in place of the "real" Manchester United, and the 1-1 draw meant that nothing was resolved.

3. Newcastle vs. Forest: a decisive football match - full-strength teams, a sell-out crowd, a spectacular goal, and a definite, meaningful result (Newcastle denied yet another trophy, Forest kept up their good run).

4. Chelsea vs. Liverpool: the genuine, beautiful article - two attack-minded teams, brilliant individual skills, a passionate crowd, a breathtaking comeback, and a result that will be remembered for a long time. This is a game that is "permanent".

In the Platonic scheme of things I'd say the NFL is a false idea, unreality: "teams" are really business franchises, televised games are little more than commercials interrupted by some football, drugs are a major problem, the mercenaries (a.k.a. players) act like they come from another planet, etc. It may be because I grew up with it, but I personally think that the basic concept of American football is an exciting one. There are a variety of plays and strategies, the system of four downs gives a team many tactical options, and the field position roughly indicates how close a team is to scoring. The points system adds to the excitement, since for instance a team that is down by three can either tie the game with a field goal or go ahead with a touchdown (unlike soccer, where a losing team must equalize before they can win). On the other hand, it's too complicated to become a world sport, and there is little room for individual brilliance. Some players are obviously better than others, but American football is based solely on collective performance. Why else would every single NFL coach talk about "team effort" and "hard work" and "commitment" and refer to the team as "the organization"?

Soccer, on the other hand, encompasses both collective _and_ individual brilliance, a multitude of culturally influenced styles, and a variety of skills and player-types. It is simple enough to be played by anyone, anytime, anywhere. An Indian expression states that "chess is a jar that a mosquito can drink from and an elephant can bathe in", and I think the same applies to soccer.