michaelden
Knight of the Fat Fanny
- Aug 13, 2004
- 26,451
- 21,811
http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/sport/2008/06/12/bilics_twinkletoed_trio_put_ge.html
Bilic's twinkle-toed trio put Germany to the sword
After the horrible wilting in the humidity of Vienna, Slaven Bilic's Croatia sparkled and lurked and broke with pace here in Klagenfurt, a change of shape bringing a wonderfully silky response from their nimble-footed midfield creators and a thoroughly deserved victory. Bilic deserves all the credit for this. The decision to play Ivan Rakitic in place of Mladen Petric was a tantalising one, and bold too. Here was the Croatian wonderkid unleashed in the biggest game of the group.
With Rakitic playing on the left of midfield - and Niko Krankjar nominally the attacker behind Ivica Olic, but often from a deep, strolling inside-right position - Croatia passed the ball with verve. The new man took his chance and at times really looked to have the goods - playing always with his head up - particularly when his quick pass and scuttling run made space for Danijel Pranjic's cross for the opening goal.
Luka Modric was back in the groove here too. In the build up Jogi Low (who, correctly pronounced with a 'v' at the end, sounds like a sex maniac P-funk-era soul singer) had voiced his admiration for Croatia's "attacking players". By which he meant chiefly Modric, who scampers and chivvies and redirects very nimbly in midfield. As expected, Germany set Torsten Frings on him as a snarling deterrent. Just as, incidentally, England should have done at Wembley with Owen Hargreaves last November, an omission that allowed Modric a free run of Wembley (but, really, I promise no more of that now).
Frings is a fearsome scrapper. Here he was barging into Modric within seconds of the game kicking off, and following him about for the first 20 minutes like an angry little bear. On 14 minutes he sent him cartwheeling on the halfway line. It was a fairly uneven contest: they're about the same height, but you could fit two Modrics into a Frings-sized mould. As the game wore on Modric countered by dropping off and running from deep, exchanging passes with the players ahead of him, Kranjkar and Rakitic. For spells they formed a delightfully quick-footed trio of playmakers, really a joy to watch.
The point here is that Germany had nothing to match them. This is a very linear German team. They attacked down the flanks with great thrust, particularly through the galloping Marcel Jansen in the first half. But that seemed to be the limit of it. Michael Ballack played in his withdrawn role. There was no fantasy at all in there, nothing unexpected, just great physical power and fierce commitment. Low's response at half time was to bring on David Odonkor, another driving wideman. The introduction of Bastian Schweinsteiger made more sense: Germany were crying out for his creativity (but surely in the middle, not the left), rather then continuing to press so fiercely towards the corners
Do they have enough? Probably even after tonight, the Germans really do think they're going to win this tournament. There has been a thrillingly unabashed aura of self-belief around the coach, the players, the fans, even the travelling press corps. Tonight they had resolve, self-belief and the ability to pin teams back with pressure on the flanks. But they had no twinkle.
As expected they were excellent at set pieces, physically huge and brilliantly well-drilled. What they don't have, on this evidence, is a top class striker. And attack is back in this tournament. Or so it seems, after the first flickerings of David Villa, Ruud van Nistelrooy, and Zlatan Ibrahimovic. Germany have no one to sit alongside those names. Mario Gomez, here, looked bulky and limited, even clumsy at times. He's quick enough in a straight line, after a start, but doesn't have a jink or a step, just a veer. He will surely have better days than this one, though.
Here Germany rallied, as expected. This team will keep coming at you - in the same, well-grooved style, mind - right to the end. Podolski's goal was testament to their commitment to driving forward.
Olic's breakaway second goal for Croatia may have been a little lucky, but he deserved that for his incredible volume of selfless running. There have been questions about Croatia's stamina, but Olic goes like the clappers.
At the final whistle Bilic went justifiably bonkers, shirt untucked, jacket sopping with sweat, looking like a happy drunk at the office party in his sombre grey. This was his gamble with his bravely rejigged team - and his triumph too.
That's better.
Mark Bright, fook orf you ****
Bilic's twinkle-toed trio put Germany to the sword
After the horrible wilting in the humidity of Vienna, Slaven Bilic's Croatia sparkled and lurked and broke with pace here in Klagenfurt, a change of shape bringing a wonderfully silky response from their nimble-footed midfield creators and a thoroughly deserved victory. Bilic deserves all the credit for this. The decision to play Ivan Rakitic in place of Mladen Petric was a tantalising one, and bold too. Here was the Croatian wonderkid unleashed in the biggest game of the group.
With Rakitic playing on the left of midfield - and Niko Krankjar nominally the attacker behind Ivica Olic, but often from a deep, strolling inside-right position - Croatia passed the ball with verve. The new man took his chance and at times really looked to have the goods - playing always with his head up - particularly when his quick pass and scuttling run made space for Danijel Pranjic's cross for the opening goal.
Luka Modric was back in the groove here too. In the build up Jogi Low (who, correctly pronounced with a 'v' at the end, sounds like a sex maniac P-funk-era soul singer) had voiced his admiration for Croatia's "attacking players". By which he meant chiefly Modric, who scampers and chivvies and redirects very nimbly in midfield. As expected, Germany set Torsten Frings on him as a snarling deterrent. Just as, incidentally, England should have done at Wembley with Owen Hargreaves last November, an omission that allowed Modric a free run of Wembley (but, really, I promise no more of that now).
Frings is a fearsome scrapper. Here he was barging into Modric within seconds of the game kicking off, and following him about for the first 20 minutes like an angry little bear. On 14 minutes he sent him cartwheeling on the halfway line. It was a fairly uneven contest: they're about the same height, but you could fit two Modrics into a Frings-sized mould. As the game wore on Modric countered by dropping off and running from deep, exchanging passes with the players ahead of him, Kranjkar and Rakitic. For spells they formed a delightfully quick-footed trio of playmakers, really a joy to watch.
The point here is that Germany had nothing to match them. This is a very linear German team. They attacked down the flanks with great thrust, particularly through the galloping Marcel Jansen in the first half. But that seemed to be the limit of it. Michael Ballack played in his withdrawn role. There was no fantasy at all in there, nothing unexpected, just great physical power and fierce commitment. Low's response at half time was to bring on David Odonkor, another driving wideman. The introduction of Bastian Schweinsteiger made more sense: Germany were crying out for his creativity (but surely in the middle, not the left), rather then continuing to press so fiercely towards the corners
Do they have enough? Probably even after tonight, the Germans really do think they're going to win this tournament. There has been a thrillingly unabashed aura of self-belief around the coach, the players, the fans, even the travelling press corps. Tonight they had resolve, self-belief and the ability to pin teams back with pressure on the flanks. But they had no twinkle.
As expected they were excellent at set pieces, physically huge and brilliantly well-drilled. What they don't have, on this evidence, is a top class striker. And attack is back in this tournament. Or so it seems, after the first flickerings of David Villa, Ruud van Nistelrooy, and Zlatan Ibrahimovic. Germany have no one to sit alongside those names. Mario Gomez, here, looked bulky and limited, even clumsy at times. He's quick enough in a straight line, after a start, but doesn't have a jink or a step, just a veer. He will surely have better days than this one, though.
Here Germany rallied, as expected. This team will keep coming at you - in the same, well-grooved style, mind - right to the end. Podolski's goal was testament to their commitment to driving forward.
Olic's breakaway second goal for Croatia may have been a little lucky, but he deserved that for his incredible volume of selfless running. There have been questions about Croatia's stamina, but Olic goes like the clappers.
At the final whistle Bilic went justifiably bonkers, shirt untucked, jacket sopping with sweat, looking like a happy drunk at the office party in his sombre grey. This was his gamble with his bravely rejigged team - and his triumph too.
That's better.
Mark Bright, fook orf you ****
