Brazil’s Vistory Is a Keeper : No Such Thing as a Little Miss in the Shootout
It is called “the penalty shootout,” rather clinically, rather dispassionately, because Utter Living Hell of Everyone Involved was a tad too unwieldy.
So far, it has ended the World Cups of a veritable Who’s Who of international soccer--Eng-
land, Italy and Holland--and raked a few good men over the coals of worldwide scrutiny, shame, ridicule, or if they’re lucky, pity.
The casualty list continues to grow: David Batty, Luigi Di Biagio and now, Ronald de Boer. Three who missed from 12 yards with only a scant few billion paying attention at the time.
It is the cruelest five seconds soccer has to offer: Head down, approach the ball, try to strike accurately while the heart is turning bicycle kicks and then listen for the cheers or the gasps before exhaling and opening your eyes again.
It has ruined careers, if not lives, and who knows what the long-term psychological fallout will mean for the futures of the first three--and let’s keep it there, shall we--shootout victims of France 98?
One fears the most for Italy’s Di Biagio, who couldn’t stop weeping after his climactic penalty kick in the quarterfinal shootout against France clanked off the crossbar. His career for the Italian national team is still in its infancy, provided it is allowed to progress from here. Di Biagio was hardly the reason for Italy’s ouster--blame Coach Cesare Maldini’s Machiavellian defensive tactics for that--but that wasn’t how it played in the Italian newspapers the day after.
Batty, who misfired for England in the second round against Argentina, has a better chance to get over and get on with his life.
For one, he had never taken a penalty kick before as a professional but volunteered to step up for the first time in the World Cup. Thus, the prevailing view across the channel is Batty the Brave, Batty the Lionhearted--if not quite the Batty the Eagle-eyed.
For another, the David Beckham debacle has shifted all blame for England’s downfall away from anyone else on the roster.
Finally, England has developed a sense of humor about these things after crushing penalty defeats to Germany in the 1990 World Cup and 1996 European championships. In fact, a pizza company has already given Batty a spot in a commercial, the same pizza company that in 1996 teamed England’s three most infamous penalty victims--Gareth Southgate (Euro ‘96), Stuart Pearce and Chris Waddle (Italy ‘90)--in a memorable, good-natured TV ad.
As for De Boer, it could go either way. He will be helped, no doubt, by the sober acknowledgment that:
* He wasn’t the only Dutchman to miss Tuesday night against Brazil (Philip Cocu faltered before him).
* He played splendidly before that, delivering a perfect cross that Patrick Kluivert headed home for Holland’s only goal.
* Really, who can ever expect to beat Brazil in a penalty shootout?
Leading off for Brazil was merely the best striker of the ball in the world, Ronaldo, followed by Rivaldo, who replaced Ronaldo at FC Barcelona last season as that club’s go-to man when Ronaldo transferred to Inter Milan.
Next was Emerson, who has this science down to an art, and Dunga, the Brazil captain who also banged in the penalty kick that decided the shootout that decided the 1994 World Cup.
On deck, but not needed Tuesday, was Roberto Carlos, whose right thigh alone weighs more than Bebeto and whose dead-ball delivery is the most feared in the game. Carlos once hit a free kick so hard--against France in a 1997 pre-Cup test run--that the ball sent ballboys and photographers scrambling for cover before it swerved, like a bobsled at Magic Mountain, into the upper corner of the webbing.
If Carlos had lined one up on the 12-yard spot, the only question to be answered would be: Would Dutch goalie Edwin van der Sar risk a healthy body part trying to interrupt it?
Carlos was not required because Taffarel, the much-maligned Brazil goalie, went two for four against the Dutch penalty team. Diving to his left, Taffarel blocked Cocu. Diving to his right, he denied De Boer. That’s a .500 save percentage--about .400 higher than what is expected from the keeper in these thankless duels under the floodlights.
After De Boer’s final try bounded off Taffarel’s gloved palms, that wasn’t a look of joy on Taffarel’s face. That was sheer relief, nothing but--not as much for having outlasted Van der Sar as for not having to face another penalty kick.
At least until Sunday’s championship final.
Because if the shooters dread shootouts, the keepers detest them. For them, it’s a guessing game, nothing more. And even if you guess right, then you have to hurl yourself at one metal post or the other in blind hope of getting a wrist, an elbow or a knuckle on a leather missile launched from a mere 36 feet away.
That’s why they call it “the penalty shootout.”
Because it penalizes the shooters, the keepers, the coaches, the fans in the stands and halfway around the globe.
Each of them, without exception, deserves a better way.
