Because human beings are emotional idiots and football fans even more:
This is his second half and his involvement compared to Argentina’s second half in attack. (assume for a minute that the first half didn’t exist). Blue lines are successful passes, pink ones chances created, stars are take-ons, etc. Do you see much difference between the left and the right picture? Me neither.
Fine, it wasn’t a vintage performance, but stop being ridiculous.
Disclaimer: I know every moron is writing about Italia 90 now. Guess what, most of us morons are around 32 +/- 2 years and it was the first real football event that we watched and old people get nostalgic.
Disclaimer 2: Italia 90 wasn’t my first tournament but the first time I was aware that it was a football tournament. I watched Euro 88 too, but back then the Euros were whatever.
Disclaimer 3: Back then, I loved Germany for whatever reason.
Italia 90 was my first tournament I was aware of. It was also the last tournament I had no idea about who was playing. Obviously, I had a Panini sticker album and knew some of the names, like Josef Degeorgi and Careca, but still, I had no idea before the tournament who was involved. My sympathies developed with the tournament. I saw the opening game of Argentina and considered them rubbish, I saw the opening game of Germany, and knew for a fact that Lothar Matthäus was the best player on earth. I liked England until they knocked Cameroon out. I liked Italy, although everybody at the playground said they were rubbish. I rooted for Austria, because well, Austria. I liked Brazil because well, Brazil. I disliked the Dutch because they beat Germany at Euros. I had no idea about Gazza’s tears. I didn’t know that Matthäus and Beckenbauer were huge douchebags and it was simply wrong to root for them. I didn’t know that Van Basten-Gullit-Rijkaard were infinitely cooler than them. I was upset when Italy got knocked out. I was upset when Brazil got knocked out, especially as they had like 14 opportunities to score. I watched half of the tournament in Vienna and the other half in Iran. My mum’s cousin who was a bit older and had already watched Mexico 86, hated Germany and was rooting for Argentina. I didn’t understand it, because, as said, Argentina to me were rubbish. Little did I know that at both WC 82 and WC 86 Germany were rubbish. I had no idea about anything. Not about the past, not about the future, nothing.
Later on in life, I would claim that I was a Van Basten-Gullit-Rijkaard fan, knew the Van Basten goal against USSR by heart (well, I actually saw it) and Maradona 4 Life, but as a kid, I was a Loddar fanboy, because Loddar.
The thing about football is like with everything else in life…or like with sausages actually…the less you know about it and what’s inside, the better. I liked Italia 90 most out of all tournaments and it was the last tournament the team I rooted for from day 1 won it. I had no idea about it and really enjoyed it. I had funny banter with friends and cousins and didn’t give a shit about anything else. All I know is that back then I would have been terribly upset, if Brehme had missed that penalty.
Because people keep asking me….I have no fucking idea who will win the World Cup (no one really has anyway..what the fuck is that question?).
I haven’t really paid attention to football for over a year now because I was not really bothered(my thanks to Sandro Rosell, Bartomeu, Neymar Jr. and Neymar Sr. for this accomplishment. I realised there’s a wonderful world that has nothing to do with football. Thanks!). I just want this man in the above picture to hold the cup in the end as nothing else really matters to me in football anymore. I couldn’t even write anything about teams and youngsters to look forward to because frankly, no fucking idea. I have no fucking idea who the guys are Iran selected (I’m exaggerating obviously). Chile is awesome though (again) and Prandelli is a great coach and human being. The amount of hate Löw receives from Germans makes me wish them well too.
But as said, the man above, God among us mortals, I want him to win it…and whenever he’s out, which will eventually happen, I will figure out an activity to take care of during the games remaining. I have lots of unread books at home and New Yorker issues. Might book a dinner at a fancy restaurant for the final too. Whatever.
Oh, and Neymar Jr. and Sr. should both go to hell or a place worse than that. ESADE maybe.