Only in the World Cup

Last night I had the kind of experience that can only occur during the World Cup. As Argentina v Mexico approached, I received an invite to a friend's house for dinner. At first I politely declined, saying that I wanted to watch the match. I was then informed that it would be ok to watch it at their place, a fact I double checked because these particular friends are not football people. Now any real football fan or World Cup nut will know just how dodgy this territory is, as it is always very difficult to make non-believers appreciate just how absolutely necessary it is that you are able to see the game, and that it must be the whole game. So, I wearily make my way over there, settle myself down infront of their TV, and am served my dinner. All very nice. Then it transpires that my friends plan to leave for their evening's destination at half-time! Half-time! Of course, I protest: 'why wasn't I told?', 'I made it clear before coming I wanted to watch the match', etc, etc. But there really is nothing you can say in this situation that doesn't make you sound like an ungrateful spoiled child. In my mind I have done nothing wrong, and am in fact the victim of disorganisation and bad planning. My friends, of course, are baffled by what they see as a gross overreaction to the possiblity of missing a mere football match.

This is a classic example of why those who worship and those who abstein should not mix during a World Cup, but for the information of anyone who doesn't understand, Argentina v Mexico could in no circumstances be described as a 'mere football match'. The World Cup exists to provide us with games like this, a night when you perch yourself on the edge of your seat at kick-off, and don't move until the final whistle goes. Or actually, in my case, you don't move until the half-time whistle goes, at which point you run like hell to the nearest pub to find a different seat to perch on the edge of for the second half.

Mexico leave this tournament with my everlasting respect and admiration. I think the cliche goes 'if there is a way to lose, then this was it'. Faced with the best team in the world, sides can adopt various tactics. The usual one is to get ten men behind the ball and hope for the best, with some teams even prepared to counter attack every now and then; another method is to try and kick the big boys off the park; then there are those who decide to charge at the enemy from the off with no real plan, hoping that energy and adrenalin will win the day. The other option sometimes taken is to give up and cheat, which I refer to as 'The Dutch Method'. The Mexicans had no such negativity in mind, and dealt with the rather major threat facing them by raising their game to the highest possible level. They set a midfield formation designed to stifle Argentina's; they played at a fierce tempo, allowing their opponents no time to breathe; and passed the ball with precision and urgency. More than anything else though, they played with genuine belief; belief that they were as good as their opponents, and that they could win the game simply by playing at the top of their game. For this they should be hailed as heroes.

The result was one of the great World Cup matches, racked with tension and drama from the first whistle. Games like this produce an extraordinary intensity, and if you're watching it feels like the world outside must be at a standstill. Surely no-one could possibly be doing anything else could they? The fact I was watching the second half in a virtually deserted pub should have given me the answer to this question, but you become ignorant to such things. It's also quite difficult to explain why this game was so compelling; it wasn't a goal-fest, in fact both goals scored in normal time came in the first fifteen minutes. It wasn't especially end-to end; there wasn't an unusually large amount of goalmouth incident; nor was it overloaded with controversy. It was just two committed teams playing football the best way possible, with a sense of the unexpected looming at all times.

It would have been an injustice for this game to be settled by anything other than a spectacular goal, and it would have been a travesty for it to go to penalties. Argentina needed to show us exactly why they are the best, and why they deserve to be World Champions, and in extra-time they gave us a wonder goal to rival even that goal against Serbia & Montenegro. Sorin floated the ball from the left to Maxi Rodriguez on the right hand edge of the penalty area. Maxi chested the ball deliberately into the air and away from goal, before, in one movement, turning and volleying the ball with his left foot into the far top corner. The technique require to score this goal would have been beyond all but the very best. It would be a worthy goal of the tournament, and therefore was a worthy winning goal in this game.

The look on the Mexican coach's face at the final whistle said it all. A philosophical smile. An expression that conveyed pride in his team, a sense of extreme disappointment tempered with the realisation that there was nothing more they could have done. Mexico should sleep well in the knowledge that, if there is any justice, they have been beaten by the champions.

We all know however, that this is the World Cup. Justice has nothing to do with it.