This tournament has been historic. It will always be remembered as the first World Cup to go to Africa, in particular, to South Africa – a country that has suffered so much oppression, that has fought to show the world that it is safe and that has shown the world that white people and black people are co-existing in peace.
That weekend felt draining. I don’t think I’ve experienced so much footballing information in such a short space of time. Saturday started with the England hangover. Everyone has their own opinion as to why England continued their poor form with another failure. England fans weren’t the only ones feeling angry. The USA’s fans awoke to their own frustrations. They felt, quite rightly, that their side had been denied a 3-2 victory against Slovenia which would have capped an excellent turnaround having been two goals behind. Maurice Edu’s late goal was harshly ruled out by the referee.
I’ve always been fascinated by the world of Italian Football – right across the board from the elegant players that grazed the turf of the San Siro (or the correct title ‘Giuseppe Meazza Stadium’) to the more cynical form of Catenaccio. I was pleased to find a book written by John Foot entitled ‘Calcio: A History of Italian Football’ and I was intrigued to find out more about Vittorio Pozzo (who I always believed to be aligned with the fascist regime enforced by Benito Mussolini) and the corruption that has always been rife within Italian football – from top to bottom. I wasn’t disappointed at all.
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