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A Single Moment of Clarity
Posted by Danny Pen , Monday, July 12, 2010 9:51 AM
“There’s a great sense of happiness in the dressing room right now. It’s hard to put it all into words and the way the players feel goes way beyond words. The satisfaction people feel goes way beyond sport and this is a reward that’s richly deserved.”
-Spanish coach, Vicente del Bosque
In the early hours of Monday morning—in hundreds, thousands, millions—of homes, bars, pubs, restaurants and clubs, the famous under-achieving Spanish national football team moved fans to a new level of happiness. They did what no other team in this world could do; they won. Spain was one of the favorites to win, but in a tournament where the 2006 finalists went out in the group stages, bottom of their respective groups, anything can happen. In a tournament where a worn Serbian side can defeat an electrifying German team, where a rag-tag New Zealand squad can hold world champions Italy to a 0-0 draw, and where a Swiss side can hold out against the likes of David Villa, Fernando Torres, and Cesc Fabregas and come out victors of the match, anything can happen. The Catalan squad knew this; they knew, after suffering a shock defeat to Switzerland in their opening match (they had 22 shots on goal while the Swiss had 2), that in this day and age, in this tournament, anything can happen. That is the perspective they took into the final last night, and that is how they made history.
The Spanish side faced a threatening Dutch team. Filled with stars like Van Persie, Robben, Sneijder, and Kuyt, the Netherlands was one of the strongest teams at this world cup tournament, losing their only match last night to Spain. As the players of the teams walked out of the dressing rooms and lined-up to take to the pitch, you could see in their faces how important this game was to them. The Dutch have never won a World Cup tournament, and have not been at a final since 1974. The Spanish have never won a World Cup tournament and has never gotten past the quarterfinals before. This was a historic moment for both sides, and with the determination of each respective entire nation, they kicked-off into what promised to be the most jaw-clenching game of the tournament. As soon as the ball was kicked, La Furia Rojas aimed to take control of the match with their famous quick passing game that has been so greatly admired by fanatics and casual watchers alike. Moving the ball so quickly around the pitch gave them time to feel the ball, and get used to having it on their feet. Mentally and physically, this is a good tactic because it gives players confidence in the match, and can serve to relieve the pressure of an intense game. In a world cup final, this is exactly what is needed.
However, credit must be given where credit is due, and the Dutch players did a phenomenal job throughout the match. They figured out the Catalans style of playing, and on a number of occasions were able to take it apart to create some truly amazing opportunities. The powerful combination of Van Persie, Sneijder and Robben were able to find holes in the Spanish defense and exploit them. Luckily, the hands—and feet—of Spanish goalkeeper Iker Casillas came to Spain’s rescue.
Both teams wanted it. For both of them, the outcome of this game would make history. This was clear in the level of intensity they were both bringing to the pitch; by the end of the first half, 5 yellow cards were shown (3 for the Dutch, 3 for Spain). When the second half resumed, both teams started where they left off, but to no avail; after 90 minutes of football, the scoreboard remained 0-0. The match went into extra time. The first fifteen minutes looked promising for the Catalan side, with shots just edging past the bar from Xavi, Villa, Fabregas and Navas. Then, a Mathijsen header went just wide of the woodwork, and the second half of extra time started.
In the 106th minute, the referee blew his whistle for a substitute. The sidelines ref held up his black number board, and flashed the red number 7, and the green number 9 across the stadium. To Spanish fans, this meant one thing; Fernando Torres was coming on. The screams as he took to the pitch were relentless, many of them coming from swooning girls. His tournament has been hard, as he recently recovered from a drastic injury in club football, and has since been recovering.
It was ten minutes later when it happened; a single moment of clarity for the Spanish side. When the stars aligned, and a path cleared for the Spaniards, a Fabregas through ball found Andres Iniesta un-marked in the box, and after a split-second control, he fired the golden Jambulani ball into the bottom left corner. Watching on a pixilated projector screen on the top of a Thamel bar rooftop, as the rain drizzled down, I cheered and shed a tear for the man.
And I’m not even remotely Spanish.
I cheered because I’ve been there. I was there just seven months ago, on an American Embassy School football pitch in New Delhi, India. It was the final match between the two best teams at the annual SAISA football tournament, consisting of 8 teams. It was Delhi vs. Lincoln, the age-old rivalry between the biggest and the smallest school. We (Lincoln School) were playing on their turf; with students as well as parents coming out to watch the game, the stands were packed. It was the second half of extra time, and one minute left to play when our lone striker dribbled the ball to the edge of the box. He held on to it, moved it, kept it, and then—in a moment much like the one witnessed last night—drove the ball into the top left corner of the net. I remember watching from the halfway line, seeing time slow down as he swung his leg and powered the ball into the net. I remember our coaches running onto the pitch with us, in sheer euphoria, until the younger of the two brothers realized what was happening and yelled, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! GET BACK ON THE PITCH!” for our “man-pile” had taken us off to the sidelines. I remember Shayan Mosavi’s cheeky grin, as if to say, “I told I’d do it”.
It was a defining moment in Lincoln history, and my life. I was convinced that it was a thing that I would never experience again in my life, until I watched Spain play last night. Last night I was transported to an 84,000-person Soccer City stadium in Johannesburg, South Africa. Last night, I was Spanish player. And last night, we won SAISA all over again.
If you scroll through the names on the list of the Spanish players in the 2010 world cup, you’re sure to stop at many places on the page. Casillas, Puyol, Pique, Villa, Xavi, Xabi Alonso, Ramos, Torres—all of these names are household names, ones that people around the world know and love. But it was not Torres, who scored the winning goal in the Euro 2008 championship who scored last night. It was not Villa, who scored 5 goals in this tournament in South Africa. It was the little man, the man who tears a defense apart and plays more generously than any player I’ve seen. It was Andres Iniesta who scored his first goal of the tournament, and Spain’s last one, to seal the deal in Johannesburg last night. If you didn’t know his name before, you know it now. Said Iniesta, after winning the 2010 FIFA World Cup,
“It’s hard to put into words how it feels to win a World Cup. To win it that way was amazing. It didn`t come easy and I still can’t believe it. I’m just happy I managed to do my bit and score such an important goal for the national side. It’s a game to remember and to celebrate. All we want to do now is go home and enjoy it.”
And Andres, that’s precisely what you should do.
