Don't worry Spain - you've won already

Ask any Spaniard about cheating in football and they will explode into passionate response, citing South Korea as the worst robbery in World Cup history. (Then mention Tassoti and Luis Enrique and stand back a few paces.) Ask anyone outside Spain about cheating in football and the same three names will come up time and time again: Italy, Argentina and Spain.

This is perhaps unfair; or rather, it would be unfair only to blame these three, as even the World Cup has a rich history of doubtful victories … http://rustictaverner.blogspot.com/2009/10/how-far-will-they-go.html ... involving the likes of Germany and England too. However, it is inescapable that if a player goes down like he’s been shot you know it’s the likes of Marco Materazzi, Cristiano Ronaldo, Fernando Torres or Javier Mascherano.

Of course the concept of cheating is itself a moot point, open to cultural interpretations. Certain practices like diving, intimidating the referee or feigning injury are respectively seen as a legitimate response to contact, demanding justice and precaution in many countries such as Italy, Argentina and of course Spain. This blog contains many posts on what is seen to be cheating in my country; Spanish readers are at a loss as to why these practices cause such a fuss in England.

(A small interlude here. Those of you who don’t follow the Premier League through the British media and forums like the BBC’s 606 may not be aware of the constant needling between Liverpool and Man United fans about which team cheats more. These fans spend all season claiming Gerrard or Rooney dives more than anybody, only to conveniently forget this when the players play for England. Let us be in no doubt of the truth: both Gerrard and Rooney treat a football pitch like a swimming pool – they are both serial divers. Perhaps if they had dived more at this World Cup England would have got further. Having said that, England were playing so badly that had either of those two tried to throw themselves to the ground they probably would have missed.)

The other side of cheating is the incompetence of referees. Many players will try to get away with whatever they can; if the referee or the linesman doesn’t spot it, unlucky. Think Thierry Henry. People as uptight as the English think it is cheating to take advantage of the weakness of a referee; people as canny as the Spanish or the Argentineans shrug and carry on playing.

This World Cup has seen its fair share of incidents involving unscrupulous players and incompetent referees and linesmen. Luis Fabiano’s second goal against the Ivory Coast came after he handled the ball; in the same game Kaká was sent off through Keita’s histrionics. England had a legitimate goal disallowed in the Germany stuffing because the linesman didn’t see it. Argentina’s first goal against Mexico was scored from a position so offside that Tévez was sitting in the lap of some guy in row Z. And of course FIFA did a country as poor at football as England a favour simply by letting them play with professionals.

But by the far the biggest beneficiary of the poor standard of refereeing – and that is the generous description of events – has been Spain. A poor Spanish side was beaten in the first game and scraped past Honduras and were left needing a victory against a surprisingly good Chile side. After going ahead through a lucky hit-and-hope, Spain used their many “talents” to secure the upper hand. Torres tripped himself up – perhaps not deliberately, as this is a common occurrence and the subject of many jokes floating around the internet between Spanish fans – and Gerard Piqué ran screaming to the referee demanding a card. The referee allowed himself to be fooled by Torres and intimidated by Piqué: instead of Torres receiving a yellow card for diving and there being no goal, Chile suddenly found themselves one man and two goals down. Spain, undeservedly, qualified for the next round.

There they faced a dogged Portugal side who spurned many chances to go ahead against an anonymous Spain. Fortunately for Spain David Villa was on hand; unfortunately for Portugal the linesman wasn’t. Villa’s offside goal stood, and there was worse to come. Joan Capdevila suddenly threw himself to the ground behind the referee’s back. The cameras showed that there was no contact from any Portuguese player, but of course little Sepp refuses to implement video technology, so the whole stadium knew that nothing had happened but looked on aghast as the referee sent off the nearest Portuguese player. The whole stadium? Not quite – the linesman was absent again.

So Spain had lucked (cheated, Capdevila – when somebody does it to you you’ll be singing a different tune) their way through again. In the next round they faced a Paraguay side that will be ruing a lost opportunity in a game that had some of the worst refereeing in the whole tournament. First Nelson Valdez scored from close range, only for the linesman to flag for an offside that didn’t exist. Spain, off the hook again. Then came the three penalties, and admittedly here it’s difficult to tell who benefitted the most. First Paraguay were given a penalty, which they missed, but the referee didn’t demand it be re-taken after players had encroached in the area. Then Spain were awarded a penalty for an offence which as yet nobody has managed to see in any of the television images. Spain scored this non-existent penalty, only for the referee to order a re-take because of encroachment. Spain missed the penalty but then Fabregas went down and no penalty was given – perhaps the referee was doing what many do and none should, using the technique of trying to compensate for one mistake (or in this case two: the legitimate Paraguay goal and Spain’s non-penalty) with another (not awarding Spain a legitimate penalty). Eventually Spain scored the luckiest goal of the tournament via both posts and again lucked through.

In the semi-final they met the mighty Germany, who had put four past minnows England and Australia and giants Argentina, yet had inexplicably lost to Serbia. This was the first time that Spain had met anybody decent in the whole tournament and yet they needed less help to get past them. Germany had two direct free-kicks on the edge of the area – with the corresponding yellow cards to Spanish players – waved away by the referee and again the Spanish went through untested.

In short, they have passed each round by taking advantage of inept referees and linesmen.

It must be more than coincidence. As I pointed out earlier, quite a few teams have had one chance given to them or taken away from them by a referee, but to pass each and every round thanks to the referee is suspicious. It brings to mind some of the generous refereeing in the European Championships, the sending-off of the Arsenal goalkeeper in the 2006 Champions’ League final and the embarrassingly blatant insistence of the referee in the 2009 Champions’ League semi-final to send Barcelona through whatever the cost to the integrity of the competition. It’s as if UEFA and FIFA have done everything in their power to see Barcelona and Spain in their finals. Makes you wonder what they owe them.

Have the referees been instructed to allow Spain to pass to make up for South Korea? Is this the tendency of some referees to try to make up for one mistake with another, but on a much larger scale? Is this the same as Germany in 1954, a nation desperately in need of impulse being given a boost? On a wider scale have all the South American and African teams suffered because the Euro-centric FIFA is tired of meddling domestic associations? Or is it because Europe is where the money is, Sepp? Whatever the reason, FIFA wanted Spain in this final.

Far-fetched? Sycophants like Dunphy and Hansen will tell you that the other teams simply bottled it because they had too much respect for Spain. They will argue that you could play Villa on his own and still beat anybody (which is actually plausible). All the bandwagon-jumpers in the press will ignore all the evidence and still talk about Spain’s superior quality because they can’t go back on all the hype they have created over the last four years or so.
Biased Spanish fans – obviously – will shout “so what!” and refuse to see what is on front of them. Perhaps they are afraid it may be true. Of course there is a large proportion of the Spanish population who are so desperate for a trophy that they will not care how it is won. They are the forty-year-old virgins who will go home with anything for the sake of a shag, the umbrella-wielding harridans in the sales who will stamp on anyone for a bargain, the children at the table who snatch the biggest piece of cake before anyone else can choose.

More reasonable Spanish fans have already told me how badly they think Spain have played in this World Cup so far, how disappointed they are at del Bosque’s system, how poor Torres is and have gone as far as to admit that Torres and Capdevila’s actions were nothing less than “vergonzoso”, shameless, bare-faced. However, they are quick to point out how Spain have been cheated in the past – there’s that thug Tassoti again – and claim that it’s time Spain were gifted something instead of being robbed, as they were in South Korea.

Compelling arguments, indeed – except that if World Cup finals are about righting the injustice of the past it is surely Holland’s turn to win, having had at least one World Cup trophy stolen from them in the past. (The bandwagon-jumpers have also shot themselves in the foot – now they cannot possibly go back on their claim that Holland is “the greatest country never to win the World Cup”: for them it must be Holland’s turn too.)

I won’t be watching the final tomorrow; I’m going to the cinema instead. I don’t need to see the game because I already know what is going to happen: somebody like Ramos will go down in the box without being touched but the referee will give a penalty to Spain and a red card (not a yellow) to Holland. Then Holland will score a legitimate goal, only for it to be disallowed for an infringement that nobody can see. A couple of Dutch players will see yellows for protesting. Then Spain will score a second with just a “hint” of handball or a “hint” of offside as the BBC commentators put it, and that will be that.

To the Dutch: unlucky guys. This isn’t in your hands and never was. To the more reasonable Spanish fans who have complained about del Bosque’s system: you knew that all along. Supporting Spain is like supporting Atlético or Athletic, you have to suffer, always. To the genuine fans who put football before tribe – what else did you expect? The game is corrupt from top to bottom (in that precise order).

A word of warning: FIFA have thrown the trophy in the gutter. If you go down on your knees and scrabble around in the dirt to pick it up, instead of demanding that your team win it with their head held high, no amount of hype can wash it clean. A trophy picked up from the gutter will always smell of shit. Just ask the English.