Spain Reign, World Naps

Spain are to futbol what Alabama is to football: boring, villainous, and undeniably successful.

La Furia Roja, champions of Europe and the world, have held opponents goalless for 900 straight minutes in the knockout stages of major tournaments, winning nine straight matches in the leadup to Sunday's European Championship final. It's hard to lose when the other guys don't score, of course, but Spain rarely rip the nets themselves, racking up four straight 1-0 wins en route to raising the 2010 World Cup. In this tournament Spain have rarely threatened goal, taking 110 minutes to create a clear chance against a mediocre Portugal side before escaping yet again in penalties.

Looking at those scorelines, it's hard to understand why pundits hail Spain as a free-flowing marvel, a testament to attacking football, an all-conquering wonderteam that mere mortals don't understand. Whatever. Us lazy Americans will take more goals plz.

You certainly can't blame Spain's individuals for lulling you to sleep, for they've shown a capacity to play exciting football in the past. Ten of Spain's starting 11 are among the world's best at their positions: the indomitable Iker Casillas, a stone wall in goal; Sergio Ramos and Gerard Pique, center backs with moves that make most attackers jealous; Jordi Alba, the man who somehow covers left back and left wing simultaneously; Sergio Busquets, the whining anchorman who kills everything beautiful the opposition starts; and Xavi, Xabi, Iniesta, Silva, and Cesc, midfield maestros extraordinaire. (So sorry, but you suck, Alvaro Arbeloa!) 

All of these players can pass, pass, pass, pass, pass, pass the ball all day and all night, pass the ball till Queen Elizabeth finally dies, pass the ball for fun, pass the ball for other guys to shoot, but mostly pass the ball so the other team can't pass it. They are all also smallish, slow and mediocre at finishing. A quintet of sublime chance creators is all good and well, but rendered somewhat redundant without a top-notch chance finisher, the one thing Spain lack in the absence of injured David Villa and circa-2008 Fernando Torres.

Coach Vicente del Bosque realizes this and tailored his strategy to his side's aforementioned passing strength. When Spain take the pitch, they play a game more resembling keepaway than high-level soccer. In the end, the Spanish possess the ball at least 60% of the time, closer to 70% in most cases - but this comes at the expense of any form of attacking thrust. The pass masters move the ball forward at a snail's pace, passing sideways and backwards many times along the way. So the ball skids back and forth along the grass in these endless, hypnotic triangles.

But it never hits the back of the net. For either team.

That's the genius of del Bosque's strategy - although his team seem unlikely to score, they at least maintain a nominal chance by holding so much of the ball. Other teams, knowing they'll have so few opportunities to construct successful attacks, often seem defeated before stepping on the pitch. Looking at the results, you can hardly blame them.

Spain plays the beautiful game as beautifully as any side ever has, but not in the traditional, visual sense. The beauty lies in the strategic vision ruthlessly executed by a ruthless group of players. They control every pass, strangle every opponent, win every game. 

You just wish they did so without curing insomnia along the way.

Day 25: Euro 2012 Preview, Part Un

(Editor's Note: While American football forever remains our favorite game here at HLA, futbol is now a close second. In this spirit, we bring you a comprehensive preview of this year's European Championships, starting this Friday in beautiful Ukraine and scenic Poland. We look to highlight each team and the overpaid metrosexuals that compose them. You will be enthralled. Trust us.)

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GROUP A PREVIEW

Group A features four of Europe's most outstandingly mediocre sides. Let's go through what little we know about them, starting with...

Russia - Russia is to Group A as Nick Carter is to the Backstreet Boys*: the best of a fairly dismal lot. The world took notice of the Russians after their advancement to the semifinals of the 2008 edition of this very competition; soon after, everybody started sucking and the Fightin' Putins couldn't beat fucking Slovenia for a World Cup berth. Alas, Russia is still the overwhelming favorite here because at least they have a few players most people have heard of before, even if only in contexts such as "Andrei Arshavin fucking sucks!" and "Pavlyuchenko, 'bout time you scored a goal you cunt!" and "you really want me to say Pogrebnyak?"** Yes, Arshavin fucking sucked, but at least he was up against some of the world's best at Arsenal; Russia's experience against quality competition will ensure they advance past these three not-so-quality opponents.
Chance of advancing - 87 percent.

*Yes, a Backstreet Boys analogy. One Direction would be the more timely reference, but fuck them - will any of their little brothers will ever make a song this awesome? I THINK NOT.
**Steve McManaman only.

Greece - While Russia did well in this tournament four years ago, Greece won the whole damn thing four years before that. The Greeks' shocking 2004 triumph after a series of brutal 1-0 victories pissed off, well, pretty much everybody, as a) nobody outside of Greece actually roots for Greece, and b) nobody roots for a boring underdog. That's the role Greece continues to play, using soccer's equivalent of the flexbone offense, the catenaccio, an old Italian tactic whose followers eschew trying to score goals in order to prevent opponents from doing so. Futbol has enough boring stretches as is - a team that doesn't even try to score seems a fundamental disgrace to the game. Catenaccio may give the game a bad name, but it also gives overmatched sides like Greece and Ireland a fighting chance - which Greece certainly has in this average group.

Chance of advancing - 46 percent.

Czech Republic - Maybe they advance if Petr Cech stops every shot. Considering the low quantity and quality of the shots that will come from Greece and Poland, this is a distinct possibility. The Czechs don't look strong at all, but organization and strong goalkeeping - things they surely do have - could well be all they need to advance here.

Chance of advancing - 37 percent

Poland - Oh, Poland, land where my father's mother's fathers died. You would never be in this tournament if you hadn't been chosen to host it as a favor for your fervent support of UEFA's latest corrupt power brokers. All of your good players claim German citizenship through their father's grandpa's second cousin, leaving the remaining hopeless dregs to represent your hopeless dreg of a nation. I still love and support you, Poland - that is, until you start losing and Germany starts winning. Like Miroslav Klose and Lukas Podolski, you can bet I'll jump ship soon after.

Chance of advancing - 30 percent

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That's all for now - join us tomorrow for discussion of actual, talented futbol teams (Germany, The Netherlands, Portugal and Denmark) in our Group B preview!

Manchester City 3 - 2 QPR

Football is an amazing game.

I mean that equally on both sides of the Atlantic.

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While Americans have a notoriously lukewarm attitude toward "soccer," allegedly because it's boring, but also partly (I suspect) because we aren't very good at it. Our greatest moment as a footballing nation came in a 1-0 victory over a poor Algeria side (though, in fairness, it was an EPIC moment). 

We wonder why so many could love a game that's so often boring and unfair, rife with mercenary superstars and corrupt management, that often ends in a tie. We wonder whether we could eventually do the same. It seems possible every four years when we come together to watch Donovan and Dempsey and co. lead us into the knockout stages of the tournament, only to quickly fall to Ghana. We then trade in the international game, with all its patriotism and pageantry and intensity, for sparsely attended Major League Soccer contests in exotic locales like Kansas City. Turn on the World Cup and you realize how great the game can be. Turn on the MLS and you realize how appealing that Real Housewives marathon looks. 

I first started watching football during the 2006 World Cup out of this vague sense of guilt, that I was somehow wrong for not appreciating our world's self-appointed "beautiful game." ESPN promised the world a chance to see dazzling superstars like Ronaldhino and Beckham up close on daytime television. The two, of course, combined for one goal throughout the tournament, their much-hyped sides eliminated early on. Instead, the trophy went to Italy, an elderly team much better at keeping the ball out of their own net than putting it in themselves. 

The final featured two early goals, one for each team, then 80 minutes of soul-crushing boredom, before I learned to love the game for good. After 108 minutes, the France legend Zinedine Zidane barreled his bald dome into a flopping defender's chest, acquiring a red card that forced him to watch his nation's penalty shootout loss to the Italians from the showers. I had no idea what was going on, but for the first time I understood why so many people cared. Now I'm one of them.

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The situation: first-place Manchester City needs a win at home against 17th-place Queens Park Rangers to capture their first English league title in 44 years, with second-place crosstown rivals Manchester United needing a win and a City draw or loss to capture their sixth crown in seven years. QPR, led by City's former manager and featuring five former MCFC players in the starting XI, needed at least a draw to guarantee safety from relegation. The plot was juicy from the start. Nobody could predict how much it would thicken.

The first half played out as most gross mismatches do. City possessed the ball about 80% of the time, laying siege to an able QPR defense that finally broke after half an hour on Manchester City right back Pablo Zabaleta's first goal of the season. QPR had no shots on goal in the first half, rarely keeping possession long enough to get even halfway up the field. Things looked hopeless.

But Manchester City, the team assembled for a measly $1.5 billion, notoriously struggles to smoothly close out games. Right after halftime, City defender Joleon Lescott headed a ball right into the path of the equally scary-looking QPR striker Djibril Cisse, who promptly hammered the chance home. 

The score now 1-1, City needed another goal to capture the win and the title. It looked like that would be no problem after QPR captain/infamous numskull Joey Barton got sent off for landing an elbow under Carlos Tevez's chin and a knee to Sergio Aguero's groin, but QPR held strong. 

Down a man, QPR elected to stay back and defend, only breaking past the halfway line three times in the second half. They scored twice - first on Cisse's strike, then on a header minutes after Barton's red card. With QPR motivated by revenge and looking stronger than any other point in the season, one wondered whether City's title drought would continue. 

The team in light blue poured cross after cross into the box, time and again headed out by valiant QPR defenders playing the game of their lives. With 92 minutes gone, three minutes of additional time to go, City still needed two goals for the win and the title.

Of course, they got them.

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Feel the roar of the crowd. Listen to the commentators' breathless calls. Look at all those people going absolutely insane. 

Think you could give this soccer thing a chance?