MATCH THREAD: Spain Vs. France - Euro 2012 Quarter Final
- Thread starter ijjysmith
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turner
I can be a friend to you
Spain are tedious to watch. They're Steve Davis, they're Nigel Mansell, they're Pete Sampras. They will win, and they will dominate their opponent, but people won't love them for it. People loved the Brazil sides as a team, they loved Argentina because of Maradonna's individual brilliance, they loved Andre Agassi and Alex Higgins. Sure, Spain are technically superior, but people don't necessarily want perfection in their champions. They want flashes of magic and entertainment (which is why Messi's Barcelona are marginally more tolerable) or a determination to overcome any obstacle and to fight to become the best. Spain win by slowly strangling the game as a spectacle.
There's also the cheating and snide gamesmanship that comes out when things don't go their way. People, even most England fans, have forgiven Maradonna for his hand-of-god moment, if anything due to his balls-out quote and the realisation that he wasn't really a snide player, he just saw his moment and went for it. Spain's (and Barcelona's) systematic gamesmanship is not the kind of behaviour that real champions display.
There's also the cheating and snide gamesmanship that comes out when things don't go their way. People, even most England fans, have forgiven Maradonna for his hand-of-god moment, if anything due to his balls-out quote and the realisation that he wasn't really a snide player, he just saw his moment and went for it. Spain's (and Barcelona's) systematic gamesmanship is not the kind of behaviour that real champions display.
thebluefox
Player Valuation: £50m
top post there turner
ijjysmith
Calm
I wish mate!
I'm too old for all that nowadays! One night out a month nearly kills me days.
Plus mrs ijjy wouldn't be happy if I was trying to get amongst it.
Ah, how I used to love getting amongst it.
Jamo Martinez
Player Valuation: £70m
Great post.
bluejock
Boss coat aficionado
Spot on that Turner.
Dear Spain,
I'm leaving you. I've had as much as I can take with your obsession with big shiny things at the expense of our relationship. We were happy once when you won your first beauty contest in 2008. You had something of a complex back then but I believed in you and your confidence bloomed wonderfully. You were so much fun in those days: carefree and happy, and our love was spontaneously expressed. Maybe things changed when your Uncle Luis handed over the management of your career to your other Uncle Vicente. Things started well, it was as if Uncle Luis had never left. Then we went to South Africa and almost overnight from 'carefree' everything became about 'control.' Possessions became everything. That ugly gold cup that sits on your mantelpiece now seems to define you. I can't touch your hair or I might muss it up. Kissing is off limits because your lipstick might smudge. What happened to us, Spain? All you care about is winning that Euro trinket, and everything else be damned. Fun is out. If I so much as make a playful grab for one of your breasts you mutter something about me not messing with the gold fringed underwire of your bra while pushing my hand away. Eh? You some sort of robo-babe now, cold and mechanical? You may be efficient but you have no more warmth, no joie de vivre.
Good luck with things, but I'm moving on now. The German gal is young and has attractive laughing blue eyes. She wants to win but, like you once, she wants to win while having fun and making people happy. That English girl we used to laugh at for thinking she was better than she was looks pretty grounded now. She doesn't even wear makeup most of the time, but she looks much better for it. Sure she sometimes looks ragged and breathless and is unlikely to win but there's a certain charm in her new realism and sense of living in the moment. Maybe I'll ask her for a date tonight.
If you win, I hope you'll be happy. You'll be in the history books as statistically the best. And although you may be alone and not as revered as that Brazilian beauty who won Mexico '70 at least you'll have that shiny tiara you sacrificed our love for to cuddle in the still of the night.
Love, Football Fans
I'm leaving you. I've had as much as I can take with your obsession with big shiny things at the expense of our relationship. We were happy once when you won your first beauty contest in 2008. You had something of a complex back then but I believed in you and your confidence bloomed wonderfully. You were so much fun in those days: carefree and happy, and our love was spontaneously expressed. Maybe things changed when your Uncle Luis handed over the management of your career to your other Uncle Vicente. Things started well, it was as if Uncle Luis had never left. Then we went to South Africa and almost overnight from 'carefree' everything became about 'control.' Possessions became everything. That ugly gold cup that sits on your mantelpiece now seems to define you. I can't touch your hair or I might muss it up. Kissing is off limits because your lipstick might smudge. What happened to us, Spain? All you care about is winning that Euro trinket, and everything else be damned. Fun is out. If I so much as make a playful grab for one of your breasts you mutter something about me not messing with the gold fringed underwire of your bra while pushing my hand away. Eh? You some sort of robo-babe now, cold and mechanical? You may be efficient but you have no more warmth, no joie de vivre.
Good luck with things, but I'm moving on now. The German gal is young and has attractive laughing blue eyes. She wants to win but, like you once, she wants to win while having fun and making people happy. That English girl we used to laugh at for thinking she was better than she was looks pretty grounded now. She doesn't even wear makeup most of the time, but she looks much better for it. Sure she sometimes looks ragged and breathless and is unlikely to win but there's a certain charm in her new realism and sense of living in the moment. Maybe I'll ask her for a date tonight.
If you win, I hope you'll be happy. You'll be in the history books as statistically the best. And although you may be alone and not as revered as that Brazilian beauty who won Mexico '70 at least you'll have that shiny tiara you sacrificed our love for to cuddle in the still of the night.
Love, Football Fans
Nailed it there lid.
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