Beautiful Losers; The Anatomy Of A World Cup Winner

There was a great article in GQ many years ago that commented on the fact that most of the big-name actors usually have about a three-film love affair with the critics and the public, then fade away into mediocrity (or worse, self-parody). It occured to me recently that sports teams also follow this trend, for better or for worse.

France’s debacle at the last World Cup wasn’t as shocking to me as it was to others; that they failed to score a single goal baffled me more than their unceremonious exit. But between ‘98 and ‘00, the years of their World Cup and Euro victories, respectively, they weren’t always the best team on the pitch. In ‘98 they had a home advantage, as well as a relatively easy run to the final. During the Euro, they squandered a 2-1 lead and lost 2-3 to Holland in the group stages, then had to come from behind in order to beat Italy and Portugal, and were extremely lucky not to lose against the former (having only scored in the final minute of play). By ‘02 the team was much older, worn out from league play, and missing two of their key starters, Pires and Zidane. Add to this an unwillingness to switch tactics when necessary, and you began to see the cracks as they were forming.

Germany from ‘90-’96 were an awesome machine to behold in action, and I think that particular era of German footballers embodied every single automaton cliche that the press had in their sleeves. They might have been an older team but in such pristine physical condition that they simply bowled over the competition more often than not. But they were beatable in that they relied far too much on set-pieces (particularly during their disappointing Euro ‘92 and their shock World Cup ‘94 exit) to Klinsmann and Bierhoff towards their Euro ‘96 victory.

By the same token, re-tooling an entire team is a daunting task; Germany’s head coach Jurgen Klinsmann was revered as a player, but has been taking a beating in the press ever since he landed the job. He’s re-tooled the Voller era to play a more offensive game, which takes balls (no pun intended). Zico’s Japan has also been mimicking the ‘82 Brazil squad in their attacking formations, but without the abundance of talent that Brazil had to call upon.

Say what you like about Brazil in ‘02, they had an even easier run to the finals than Germany, and were entirely beatable–both games against Turkey panned that out. They’ll be similarly respectible this year, but far from the juggernaut most people would have you believe. I think when Brazil loses, it’s usually because they do themselves in.

How do you balance the necessary elements of experience, youthful energy, talent, and ego-juice in such a way that it produces a winner? Don’t discount luck as a valuable asset. Add to all of that, a lack of expectations, and sometimes the results can surprise you.

This is why I’m always hoping for some underdog country to win, even if it’s against a team I happen to be supporting. Invariably it’s the team that wants to win the most that does, and in the off-chance they get ahead because of lousy officiating (see Spain/Korea ‘02, Germany/France ‘82), then ask yourself this: shouldn’t the big boys be able to turn on their killer instincts at will if they’re all that? Especially when playing against lower-ranked teams?