El Fracaso Nacional
29 June 2006, 10:59
Spain has never won the World Cup. The closest they came was in 1952 when they advanced to the final round of four teams. In the championship round robin (there were no knockout games then), they failed to win a match and finished fourth. A lean period for Spanish football set in. They didn’t make the World Cup finals again until 1962.
In Chile ‘62 Spain was led by Barcelona’s Luis Suárez and by outstanding Real Madrid stars Francisco Gento and Ferenc Puskas. Puskas was not Spanish. He had already played 84 games for his native Hungary and scored an astonishing 83 goals. After the Hungarian uprising of 1956, though, he was exiled from his homeland. He moved to Spain to play for Real Madrid.
Real, which had been a Republican side during the Civil War, was in the 50s backed by Franco. Fans complained that Puskas was too old and fat, but he helped the team dominate European football (Some say this was the best club team ever). They won three European Cups with Puskas. For his new national side, Puskas was not as good. He played four matches (3 in the World Cup) and did not score. Spain went out in the first round.
The great expectation (fuelled by club success) and great disappointment of 62, became the standard plot for La Selección. They’ve never made it past the quarterfinals. When Spain hosted the Cup in 1982, the team was knocked out in the second round by eventual finalists West Germany. The country went into mourning.
This year might have been different. A lot of fans weren’t expecting much (Guillermo Nagore, a Spanish friend, said before the Cup, “I don’t have a good feeling. Who is going to score goals?”). But in the first round, they looked terrific. With youth (Fernando “La Zarigüeya” Torres, 22; Cesc Fabregas, 19) and experience (Carles Puyol, 28; Raul, 29), Spain showed versatility and depth. Fans were ebullient.
Last week, we got a dispatch from our Spanish correspondent, Txema Isusi, who was in Germany:
“Hola chicos, writing you from a little town next to Kaiserslautern, after we saw Spain win yesterday in a boring game. I already lost my voice and my face hurts from laughing all night. This is like Carnaval, it’s madness, it’s awesome! the good part is that the WC starts getting serious now…ha! I may need another week off work just to recover from this (just kidding boss!) They have big (huge)screen TVs in the center square of every town, and they have set up what they call the World Cup center in them, with bars, food, sponsor tents Last night we watched the France game in the one in K-town next to the Polizei headquarters, supporting Togo, of course! and then they turned the place into a huge club with a DJ and topless go-go women in stages around the area…needless to say, I’ve already requested the German nationality… gotta go txatos! un abrazo”
Things did get serious, though. France faced Spain. Guillermo’s fears came true. The Spaniards couldn’t score. In the first half, Torres went on a blistering run into the area, and was knocked around by a few defenders. He looked for a call. Nothing. We didn’t hear from him again. It was, of course, a Real Madrid player that sunk Spain’s hopes. Zinedine Zidane whipped in a free kick that was headed home. Then he scored a third. 3-1 France.
History marches on. Barcelona, current European champions, and Real Madrid, the most decorated European club, excel. Spain loses. Txema is probably now pretending he’s German. I’ll still pass myself off as Spanish. Viva Espana!
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And on the twentieth day, the World Cup rested
Pool Update - Round 2
I was never a francophobe. Never boycotted French wine or supplanted “Freedom” in lieu of “French” as a moniker for some cultural morsel. But I’ll never be able to forgive Les Bleus for prematurely dispatching my beloved España and ruining my WC pool (I had them in the final).
Their efforts in group play were blasé at best. They did just enough to get by but ceded top honors to the Swiss.
Then, when facing Spain, they decide to show up. I complain even knowing that it was perhaps fait accompli, Spain having performed superbly in group play in contrast to their neighbors to the north. I suppose no other result was possible.
So France ruined everything, even if you’re not a fan of Spain. Think about this: had they played well in their group, we would not have been subjected to that Swiss-Ukraine stinker! And we might have had Italy v. France and Brazil v. Spain this weekend. ¡Bastardos!
A consolation: now I can truly enjoy watching Fat Ron Brazil avenge the ‘98 final. Send Barthez and his undeserved smugness back to France and Henry and his chicanery back to his model wife and Hampstead mansion! That’ll learn ‘em!
— Joe · 29 June 2006, 13:06 · #