Just the tonic needed

I think the cliche goes 'after the Lord Mayor's show'. In the aftermath of Argentina's performance yesterday, it seemed that the rest of the teams in World Cup 2006 had come to the conclusion that, well, there's not much point to all this now is there? Understandable, but life must go on. I still felt a little bewildered myself for several hours after the final whistle in Gelsenkirchen, but I gamely dragged myself infront of the TV to watch the matches that followed, and I think it was fair to expect the non-Argentine players to show the same level of courage.

Holland played another excellent half-hour, waltzing into a 2-0 lead, and then realised that if they carried on it might turn into an attempt to emulate Argentina, and that would just have been folly. So they sensibly returned to their usual policy of diving, sulking, and attempting to get oppostion players sent off. The luckless Ivory Coast go home having played two games they couldn't really have expected to win. If they could have swapped group places with any of the other African sides they would have had a great chance of going through.

As for the consistently oddball Mexicans, they had definitely been watching Argentina. They walked around in a daze for 45 minutes while Angola tried to work out exactly when they were going to have begin the desperate rearguard action they had prepared themselves for. By the time the Mexico realised why they were there, it was too late. Angola needed to complete only half an hour of the defending they were expecting to do for 90 minutes, and they secured their draw reasonably comfortably.

Making predictions about Mexico is probably marginally less sensible than trying to forecast what Portugal will do. Surely they'll have too much class for Iran? Well as it turned out, yes, but could they have made harder work of it? It was like watching someone trying to paint a wall with a really small brush. You just want to shout at them, 'for god's sake use a roller! You'll get it done in half the time, then you can put your feet up!' Why do they insist on playing one man up front? No matter how many times they struggle like mad to break poor teams down, still it's the solitary Pauleta carrying the attack. It's not even as if he's any good. Yes, yes great goals to games ratio in internationals, but tell me this? If he's that good, why the hell does he play for Paris St Germain? Portugal are a bunch of quality midfielders creating chances for no one, which is why they're guaranteed to always fall short. As it turned out they got home in this one, eventually, thanks to a cracker from Deco and a dive from Figo.

Still, very uninspiring stuff. We were in need of something new. Having been given an injection of beauty, what the World Cup required was a helping of football's other defining attribute; namely the capacity to descend into complete chaos. Enter group E. This collective always had possibilities on paper: it's two underdogs are of a higher quality than most groups; the Czechs are very attacking, and therefore vulnerable, especially with some injury problems; then you have the Italians, whose affinity with the self-destruct button is the stuff of legend. It was actually a bit of a surprise when the first two matches in this group went according to plan, so to speak, with comfortable victories for the favourites. Today's second round of fixtures more than made up for it.

From the moment the Czechs left their concentration in the dressing room and conceded a soft goal in the first minute, this was to be no ordinary evening. Sensing that their opponents were suffering from a lack of attacking inspiration thanks to the absence of their two first choice strikers, Ghana went for the jugular. In fact, the Africans' policy became so attacking as the game wore on, you would have been forgiven for thinking they had forgotten about their early goal and believed the score was still 0-0. Either that or they believed they were subject to some kind of handicap system, and the win didn't count unless the margin was at least two goals. Suffice to say, defending their lead did not appear uppermost in their mind, and this unusual policy led to an extraordinary end-to-end-to-end-to-end second half. Despite the space being left for them to exploit, the Czechs still didn't look like equalising, the hapless Lokvenc up front proving no replacement for the talismanic Koller. Ghana on the other hand tore the Czech back line to shreds, creating chance after chance, but were constantly let down by poor finishing (again), or denied by Cech, looking every bit the world's best 'keeper. However, the Ghanaians form in front of goal improved from consistently awful in their first game, to merely erratic in this one. A belting shot from Muntari sealed a win they fully deserved.

Unfortunately though, one incident took the shine off this excellent performance. The ball broke to Amoah in the penalty area in the 66th minute who, rather than shooting, decided to take a dive as Ujfalusi's lunge made no contact. Referee fell for it, penalty given. Nothing we haven't seen before. Mr Elizondo however, clearly had no plans to send off the defender; that is, until Amoah and his team mates began stalking the referee with their imaginary cards. The official actually had a job finding the offender, so much time had elapsed since the initial decision was made. Why do players need to do this? Cheating is bad enough, but begging for opponents to be sent off is the lowest of the low. Even spitting doesn't come near it. Ghana played superbly, but in that one moment I lost all respect for them.

So a frenetic, exhilerating game with a touch of the dark side? You ain't seen nothin' yet. Bring on Italy and the USA, who played without doubt one of the most absurd matches ever seen in the World Cup. It began with the US looking a much improved team from their mauling by the Czechs, and it was against the run of play when Gilardino gave Italy the lead. Five minutes later, another gap was filled in World Cup 2006, with the first bonafide balls-up; an inexplicable violent slash at the ball by Zaccardo, slicing it with precision into the bottom corner of his own net. Wonderful. This was followed seconds later by an unprovoked and brutal assault by the elbow of De Rossi on Brian McBride, resulting in a completely justified early bath for the Italian, and leaving McBride searching the field for the remains of his nose. Not to be outdone by this display of savagery, Mastroeni, not wanting to risk missing Pirlo's shin with just the one foot, went in with both to make sure, and consequently joined De Rossi in the dressing room. As a response to their own reduction in personnel, Italy took the decision to substitute Totti. It was a decision they would regret, as by the first minute of the second half one less had become one more, as Pope received a second yellow. Lippi, having removed a playmaker, now threw on Del Piero; the Italians in a state of utter confusion having long forgotten whether their approach was now meant to be positive or negative. The Americans seemed to believe that this was meant to be their night, committing what men they had left to going forward in search of the winner, and even finding the back of the net only to see it correctly disallowed for offside. Italy should have forced a winner, but the closest they came to getting it was when Bocanegra tried to even the own goal count up, but was cruelly denied by the woodwork. Somehow, incredibly, this match finished 1-1. Only 1-1. A scoreline that did scant justice to this 90 minutes of anarchy. I think the cliche goes 'it had everything'.

Phew!

Welcome back World Cup, thought we'd lost you there for a minute.