Some Writers Just Don’t Know Beans About Game
Right up front, let’s say something nice about Colombia. It has very hard-working people. It makes very good coffee. And its soccer team, led by Ready Freddy Rincon, looked absolutely super in tying West Germany, 1-1, thus qualifying for the second round of the World Cup. Colombia, we salute you.
We mention this because we were reading that El Siglo, a Bogota newspaper, made a point of pointing out that the world’s press has been praising Colombia’s soccer performance and “for the first time it has forgotten to disparage our country.” Ow.
For the record, even as a United States journalist, I found myself very happy for Colombia when Freddy’s last-minute shot went between the German goalkeeper’s legs, touching off a celebration in northern South America that still hasn’t stopped. I even made an entry in my journal that day: “Good effort by Colombians. Don’t disparage their country.”
Besides, after seeing the United States play soccer, I was too busy disparaging my own.
Now, on to World Cup journal, Week 2.
Say, here’s a guy some of you Americans might like. His name is Karl Fliegenbauer, and he’s a soccer-basher.
Fliegenbauer runs a pub in Passau, West Germany. No, the place is not called Fliegenbauer’s, although surely somebody somewhere ought to open a place called Fliegenbauer’s, or maybe McFliegenbauer’s, or the International House of Fliegenbauer’s, or possibly even Thank God It’s Fliegenbauer’s.
Anyhow, my main man Karl has taken a firm stand. On the menu of his Bavarian hofbrau, which is officially named the Weisses Kreuz, he has formally decreed the place a “soccer-free zone,” to serve solely the interests of people who cannot stomach one more word about World Cup soccer.
Herr Fliegenbauer claims that any of his customers discovered discussing soccer or even mentioning soccer will be flashed a red card, banishing them from his establishment for the remainder of the tournament. Frankly, we suspect this was Plan B for Karl, whose first choice probably was kicking customers soccer-style on their bare legs with hard shoes.
On another tavern front, some guy in Nairobi wanted to watch the World Cup on TV in his local corner bar. The owner told the guy he had to pay. The guy refused. The owner told the guy he had to leave. The guy stabbed him with a knife.
Well, looks like Fliegenbauer’s won’t be having a West Kenya branch.
Speaking of Africa, and we were, our old friends the Cameroon “Indomitable Lions” stepped forward after two thrilling first-round victories and promptly got kicked around by the winless, yet not necessarily domitable, Soviet Union, 4-0.
Some of us just happened to notice the interesting coincidence that the Soviets, who just happened to need a four-goal victory to have any chance of advancing into the second round, just happened to score four quick goals against the Cameroonians, who just happened to have a Soviet for a head coach.
Nah. We prefer the version in Cameroon Tribune:
“The worthless victory of the USSR over the Lions” should not be taken seriously, the Trib reported with total and understandable objectivity. The 4-0 defeat was nothing more than a “tactical” maneuver in order to fool the second-round opponents.
Oh, and one more thing: Cameroon was forced to wear yellow shirts in the Soviet game. It always plays better in green shirts, the paper reported.
Personally, I think this could be another ploy to fool the second-round opponents. Cameroon should play its next game wearing white shirts with blue trim, thereby fooling the opponents into thinking that they are actually playing the United States.
Well, if Jim McMahon can fly in an acupuncturist at the last minute to help him win Super Bowl XX, I suppose it’s OK for Bryan Robson to fly in his faith healer.
B. Robby is captain of the team from England. He has a heel injury that is killing him, which is worrying both Bryan and his coach, Bobby Robson, who is not related to Bryan and is not to be confused with anybody anywhere named Robby Bobson.
To heal Bryan’s heel, they sent for Olga Stringfellow.
Stringfellow has treated several English players, and the coach is willing to put her faith to the test. “We are not regarding this as a last resort,” Bobby Robson maintained, but should Olga not work out, we expect the next call to be to an American TV evangelist, followed by a voodoo priest from Haiti.
Rome has lifted its ban on beer and wine sales on match days, because of the intervention of an official from FIFA, soccer’s governing body.
The guy’s heart is in the right place, as is his name:
Joseph Blatter.
Speaking of drinking, and we were, whoa, has this World Cup ever been a sobering experience for Ivica Osim!
Osim, the coach of Yugoslavia, awoke one morning to find himself portrayed as the tournament’s most serious lush. A newspaper report out of Belgrade, picked up by the Italian press, charged Osim with having consumed “11 bottles of whiskey in one night.”
After Yugoslavia qualified for the second round, Osim walked into a news conference, said, “Now even in Italy they are writing I am a big drunk,” then walked out.
Oh, and those 11 bottles of whiskey? As best we can figure, they were spotted near Osim’s hotel door the next morning.
The coach said they were from another guest’s wedding party.
By the way, another big story out of Belgrade the other day was headlined: “Hooligans Like the Italian Prisons.”
According to the newspaper, Politika, British soccer fans, arrested for acts of violence and general hooliganism, were saying that “Italian prisons are like hotels--you can eat, drink, watch the matches on TV and have fun.”
Funny, I heard Italian prisoners only got served garlic bread and water.
