Chicken and Avocado

By Mark Daniell

02/07/2012

And that’s a wrap - words that must fly around sandwich bars the world over. (I imagine that, try as they might, the people in Prêt à Manger don’t get bored of saying that after every folded flatbread, in much the same way as I don’t get bored of muttering “Biskwits” under my breath every time I hear Jim Beglin say Busquets.) Regardless, that is, in fact, a wrap. 4-0, tournament over, best team won, and Clive Tyldesley will never be heading back to Kiev. If you listen carefully you can just about pick up the slightest tinge of bitterness in his praise for the hosts: “Ukraine’s questionable political landscape has been a side issue. Its questionable hotel rooms have not been such a side issue for us.” Am I reading too much into that comment or does it sound like he had to bunk up with Andy ‘There is no spoon’ Townsend?

That said, with both BBC 1 and ITV broadcasting the final it was difficult to stay too long listening to the musings of the Tyldestler. Especially when the Beeb opened with “After the final countdown, Europe… is ready” It would have been better if Guy Mowbray hadn’t paused for about three seconds to let the reference sink in, but still, it shows nice homework. Of course, there’s not a lot else for our boys to do in between games. I imagine them sliding dominoes across a Kiev café tabletop, sipping Cointreau and chuckling at “peerless Pirlo”, “not too Xabi” and “Cesc on the beach” In fact I’m sure they do this, because it has become so natural for them that every now and then they freestyle live on air. Lawro described a tackle as “a bit risqué from Piqué” which either suggests he’s not necessarily clear on the meaning of risqué, or that he saw some buttcheek as the slide tackle came in. We’ve got Sky+, there was buttcheek.

But last night there was more than just the professionals on offer. In what I can only assume is a first, and I dearly hope a last, the Beeb offered alternative audio provided by CBBC. I had high hopes for this. I foresaw clear explanations of the offside rule interspersed with interesting factoids about why Italy play in blue, or how Spain is the country where you get cold soup and melting hot rental car seats. But no. It was just a bunch of idiots shouting things like “get in the game, Pirlo!” If anything it made me appreciate how valuable it is for commentators to say nothing from time to time, and how good both ITV and BBC have got at this.

Anyway, back to the game. Oddly, for a result as one-sided as this, the stats are remarkably even. Possession, shots, corners… all are roughly on a par. And when you consider that Italy played 30 minutes with 10 men, they really shouldn’t be. In fact the only area in which Spain significantly outperformed Italy was in fouls committed, where they were guilty of 17 to 9. This reveals a little secret of Spanish football: a large part of their success isn’t down to their incisive passing, or their movement off the ball, or their phenomenal first touch (although these things help), it’s down to the way they immediately press the opposition when they lose the ball, wherever they are on the pitch. Look at the evidence: Spain let in one goal in the whole tournament, they haven’t lost after taking the lead in 70 games, the last time they let in a goal in knock-out football was in 2006. For all their attacking beauty, Spain are built on relentless defence. When they have the ball they are loathe to give it away cheaply, and when they don’t have it, they hunt it down immediately, never giving the opposition a moment to weigh up options and often forcing an ambitious pass that is easily intercepted. Psychologically, Spain’s approach is rather like that period in a Test match when no wickets are falling but no runs are being scored. With lots of imperceptible effort from the fielders, and nothing fancy from the bowler, the pressure mounts and sooner or later, the batsman is going to make a mistake. This isn’t a criticism, to be so relentless requires huge stamina and discipline and needs a sort of team understanding that is rare at club level, let alone international, but the difference between this Spanish team and the great Brazilian and Dutch teams of the seventies is that this team is, fundamentally, a defensive one. Perhaps that’s why they’ve won more.

So what does the future hold? Next time around, Xavi will be 34, Iniesta 30 and Alonso 32. Not past it, but fit enough to maintain the tempo needed for Tiki-Taka? Who knows? Sure, there are youngsters coming up through the ranks, but I seriously doubt they’ll be able to fill the twin orbiting roles of Xavi and Iniesta. I think we’ve seen the masters at their peak, and it’s only fitting that they should have made history before they leave.

Lastly, special mention must go to Mario Balotelli, who explained his lack of goal celebrations by likening himself to a postman. Does a postman celebrate when he delivers a letter? No, he’s just doing his job. So is Mario. That is too cool for words. We need more players like Mario ‘Il Postino’ Balotelli.