In case you missed the goal of the World Cup playoffs. Here it is. Antar Yahia’s screamer in Sudan.
Relive the goal. Relive the celebrations. Be in no doubt: This is for 1982. This is for the players with the peppery hair and tears in their eyes. This is for the players who were robbed.
Ireland may get their revenge vicariously through Algeria. The Desert Foxes will show Monsieur Henry and his merry band of collaborators no mercy.
Belated respect to the All Whites. New Zealand represent!
Bahrain’s unexpected defeat leaves the Arab World with only one representative in South Africa. Sayef Mohammed Adnan’s penalty miss in Wellington will have done more than just dampen the spirits on the Emir’s beach. It invites a significant Arab cultural deficit extending well beyond Bahrain.
This may well go unnoticed or be easily forgotten by Arab scholars and Arab media busy with grim development statistics and wars or captivated by ceremonial comings and goings and fashionable American and European diplomats and stars. It should not.
Ireland was robbed. Pure and simple. My 8-year-old daughters watched the Henry hand ball with gaping eyes. One proffered: “Just like I do in basketball!” Her sister then deadpanned: “And there was an offside on the pass.” Children have an amazing way of stating the truth, don’t they?
In his Hall of Shame acceptance speech, Thierry Henry said: “I will be honest, it was a hand ball. But I’m not the ref,” Henry said. “I played it. The ref allowed it. That’s a question you should ask him.”
(Davy expects African sides to edge traditional Latin and Continental powers, but fancies England for the Cup. Below he discusses the likely England squad, highlighting what he expects to be the historic contribution of England’s black players.)
To be King in Africa, a useful prerequisite is to be a Black Prince. Africans have high expectations in 2010. Prince Michael of Ghana is regal. Didier of Orange, deadly. Other African Princes will soon have noble claims.
European and Latin Princes will not relinquish supremacy easily. Castilian legions led by the Boy Prince Fernando occupy the high ground. The colours of the canary have been sighted. Animals grow restless at the approaching beat of the Samba. Caravans of dancing distractions cannot be far behind.
England’s Princes are now schooled in the Florentine art of obtaining and maintaining possession. Possession is power. The tongue and territory will be familiar. Their opponents fattened at the premier table.
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