England are out of the World Cup

[Ibtisam]

So, it's Germany. It had to be. The Germans simply don't slip up in crucial World Cup group games.

 

So obvious was it that they would beat Ghana and win Group D that I am actually typing this at half-time, when they are still drawing 0-0 - as things stand England will play Ghana in the second round. As if.

 

There's more chance of Peter Crouch and Nicolas Anelka buying an apartment together in a Southern European city, as they preposterously do in the Pringles ad that has just flicked on to my TV screen.

 

Sunday's game already has the ring of a classic, albeit a classic including Mesut Ozil running riot, penalty shoot-out and national depression: Germany v England, 3pm, Bloemfontein.

 

But it rather throws into relief just how difficult a path to the final England now have.

 

- - -

 

Seconds after the final whistle, the sheer relief at beating Slovenia may have obscured the colossal significance of Landon Donovan's goal for the USA against Algeria.

 

As they celebrated, England were relegated to second place in Group C, and handed the route to the final from hell. And of course, Slovenia were knocked out. Hard luck them.

 

Just how tough is it for England? Well, it couldn't be any tougher. If they manage to make it past Germany, they will most likely face Argentina in the quarter-finals. Then Spain. Then Brazil. They are the four teams England would least like to face (with apologies to Holland).

 

It's the team that always beats us, followed by the best team in the competition, followed by the pre-tournament favourites, followed by the country that has won more World Cups than anyone else. Nice.

 

The BBC pundits seemed unconcerned pointing out; a) the way England have got through, beggars can hardly be choosers, and; b) if you want to win the World Cup, you're going to have to beat some good sides.

 

Both fair points, but you have to beat SOME good sides, not all of them.

 

Italy's path through the knock-out rounds in 2006 took in Australia and Ukraine before they got down to serious business and saw off Germany and France. Four years earlier, Brazil faced Belgium, England, Turkey and Germany.

 

Nothing like as intimidating as what lies ahead (or, more probably, doesn't) for this England team. In fact, no team has ever won the World Cup after negotiating such an arduous fixture list.

 

Obvious it may be, but the harder the opponent, the more likely you are to lose. And it is easier to win two difficult games in a row than four difficult games in a row - football is not simply a case of best team wins, regardless of the draw.

 

Big games sap energy from teams. You can only soak up so many punches until a single shot to the chin lays you spark out.

 

We might beat Germany. We might even beat Germany and Argentina. But we're highly unlikely to beat Germany and Argentina and Spain. And we'll never beat Germany and Argentina and Spain and Brazil. It's just too hard.

 

The US, meanwhile, take on Ghana then either Uruguay or Korea. Only after that will it get really tricky, and by that stage Bob Bradley's hard-working but limited side could be in the semi-finals. America in the last four.

 

For England to make it to that point they would have to see off their two greatest football nemeses.

 

The frustrating thing is that it wasn't Donovan's goal that inflicted this on England - it was our own players' wastefulness. All we had to do was better the Americans' result, and Wayne Rooney and Jermain Defoe missed glorious opportunities to ensure we did just that.

 

Yes, under the circumstances, we should be permitted a small toot on our celebratory vuvuzelas after seeing off Slovenia.

 

But without wanting to sound too downbeat, our failure to run up the score means we now have no chance whatsoever of winning the tournament.

 

It would be lovely to be wrong, and we might even be helped out by a surprise result here and there, but I'm afraid the truth is plain:

 

England were knocked out of the World Cup this afternoon.

 

Source: Yahoo sports!

[Polanyi]

England winning is good for the national cohesion and the economy.

 

( the above article is probably written by a german or someone with possible german ancestry).

[NGONGE]

posted 24-06-2010 09:08

 

 

EMINENT AND EXCEPTIONAL ENGLAND ADMINISTER FIRM BUT FAIR KICKING TO THE DESPERATE, DANGLING TESTICLES OF SLOVENLY SLOVENIA 1-0

 

“Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Laibach! Your boys took a hell of a beating!”

 

It is often remarked by association football commentators that you can “only beat the team in front of you”. England made a nonsense of this at Rorke's Drift, of course, when we beat the team that was not only in front of us, but also behind and to either side of us. Moreover, in beating Slovenia, we weren't just beating this spurious, new-fangled principality who only recently became aware of their own existence. We were also beating Argentina, Brazil, Italy, Germany and all the other upstarts who dare to issue propaganda to their own gullible peoples asserting that they would stand a fighting chance against our own Upson, Milner, Johnson and co. Tonight, clad in the red of Empire which in better times has splotched the buttock of the globe like a raw welt from the thrashing our imperial superiority, we showed that as a footballing fighting force, not even a nation which contains more mountains than people, whose principal export is glowering men in antlers playing timpani-based beat music for sallow young men in black suits, can best us.

 

There is little to be said about the stray piece of Balkan jetsam that is Slovenia, except that nature, in Her wisdom, made their men unusually tall, so as to make them easier to spot in immigration queues, pull out of the line and put straight on the first boat back to Central Europe. Doubtless they have poets, but when every word ends in the syllable “ic”, it is a jolly sight too easy to shine in this department. The National Anthems were the mark of our disparity. Ours was yodelled lustily by every man jack of our players, except for Milner, who, being Northern and subject to the speech impediment common to the people of that region, wisely kept his mouth shut, realising that to do otherwise would be akin to smearing the flag with tripe, or delivering Princess Anne the brutal kick up her jodhpured backside she so patently doesn't deserve. As for the Slovaks, so tediously derivative were its strains that it will doubtless be the subject of lawsuits from the estates of half a dozen eminent 19th century composers. This alone should have entitled to us to a direct free kick at the opening of play.

 

Instead, the game begin with England immediately on the attack, crushing the Slavs beneath our hooves as we thundered goalward. If Glenn Johnson's initial first touch was as adept as a that of a seal trying to grasp a bar of wet soap, if Matthew Upson's deceptive combination of slowness and gormlessness meant he might as well have worn a giant, deely bopper-style headpiece in flashing neon letters reading “LIABILITY! LIABILITY! LIABILITY!”, if Milner's opening contributions were as risible as if he were stumbling along the touchline with his shorts fallen about his ankles, then I, for one, certainly did not notice. Once again, England were playing with the sort of blood, beef, thunder, passion, gravy, wind, guts, fire, horsepower, sprouts, commitment and Yorkshire pudding that precludes the need to pass the ball calmly, and slowly, in a ******* straight line every ******* now and again.

 

Inevitably our endeavour was swiftly rewarded as Defoe, who, for obvious reasons will be among those players travelling on the lower deck of the bus during the victory parade through London, showed his humble commitment to the cause by helping into the net a cannoned cross from Milner. One nation roared in unison, the rest quailed, not least our opposition the Slovankians, who were so bewildered at this stage they had no more idea of precisely which nation they were than the rest of us do.

 

By now, it was simply a question of whether England need bother scoring any more goals, or simply declare and not come out for the second half. In grudging obeisance to a technicality in the rules we did, however. Steven Gerrard commanded midfield, varying bits of it, his resolved expression suggestive of a man whose brain resounds to more than the incessant, Scouse drone of a hesitant “Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr”. Wayne Rooney was calmness personified, displaying none of the sort of superheated, hairy impetuosity that makes you wonder if he shouldn't be clad in an icepack bodysuit at half time in order to calm him the **** down and not keep chasing the ball like a famished ******* cartoon coyote going after a ******* road runner. As for mascot Capello, who, amusing to relate has been somewhat grumpy and downcast in recent days, like an organ grinder whose monkey is refusing to hold out its tin cup, he entertained us all, bounding about on the touchline like some comic opera buffoon, as if about to hitch up his trousers, reveal his garters and bellow “GO COMPARRRE!” One could even go so far as to say he has made a token, modest, inadvertent contribution to England's success, in at least preserving their good temper. Perhaps he could even be allowed onto the victory parade bus, in the capacity of driver.

 

As the final whistle approached, the Slaves of the former central Europe showed their desperation by making a brace of efforts on the England goal, whose ineptitude only heightened the jollity of millions of English viewers. As the final whistle blew, celebrations were untinged with the sentiment that, Jesus H ******* Crapstick, in a group we should have conga'd routinely through given our players and ******* resources, we only just made it out of by the width of a flake off a ******* scab on a gnat's ******* kneecap. We are dead meat waiting to be ******* roasted.

 

The crowning and memorial moment came from John Terry. “On the field, you can rely on him to be entirely focussed on the game,” remarked the commentator on the British Broadcasting Broadcasting Corporation. Yes, indeed, Mr Terry can, and deserves to be congratulated for not actually shagging players's wives out on the pitch during the match. But he deserves even more kudos than that. Who among us can forget the image of him, during a last ditch Slovenian effort on goal, projecting himself sideways on, swimming through the air head first? He was a spermatozoa, the ball his ovum. It was, for this old campaigner, in a very real sense the most stimulating moment of this tournament so far, the most engorging, most reverberating, most pulsating . . . Seppings! The bucket!

Source

[N.O.R.F]

Heroes will be made. Support YOUR country people.

[NGONGE]

[MZanzi]

^^LooooL Capelo should give him Castle lager before the german game ..terry dhulka ayuuba teesteen gaaray

[Abtigiis]

Originally posted by NGONGE:

 

But he deserves even more kudos than that. Who among us can forget the image of him, during a last ditch Slovenian effort on goal, projecting himself sideways on, swimming through the air head first? He was a spermatozoa, the ball his ovum. It was, for this old campaigner, in a very real sense the most stimulating moment of this tournament so far, the most engorging, most reverberating, most pulsating . . . Seppings! The bucket!

Source

looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!! Waa runtii did anyone notice siduu Terry isu tuuray. Spermatoza and Ovum ayaan ku qoslay. This writer is something walaahi!!

[NGONGE]

^^ Notice? War can't you see the gif above?

[MZanzi]

A&T maanta okiyaale mawato waxba ma arko

[Hales]

Originally posted by NGONGE:

Shock horror.

The shot was heading left of the goolkeepers right dive.

That wouldve probably been a goal. :eek:

[Abtigiis]

Ngonge posted the video at the same time I was typing the comment, I think.

[Abtigiis]

Ingriisku ninyahow dad caayi ogaa!

BBC Sport's Paul Fletcher at Ellis Park, Johannesburg "First out of the tunnel for Italy ahead of their warm-up? You got it, the mad one himself Gennaro Gattuso, sprinting across the turf like a pitbull in pursuit of someone who would really rather be anywhere else."

 

Waa runtii Gatuuso waa wax dardaran!

[-Lily-]

North, I know you have been away for some time from the adopted motherland but contain yourself. This IS England. While they are great at many things football is just not one of them.

 

Ask yourself, when was the last time they BEAT a “big” team? Like Germany, Italy, Argentina or Holland? Unless they start doing that for at least a decade, they cant talk. Save your energy. Beating Slovenia by 1 goal does not suddenly make them all Pales. It doesn’t even take a football expert to know this.

 

p.s. I hope Schweinsteiger will be fit to play Sunday and Klose will be back on hand.

[Faarax-Brawn]

Originally posted by -Lily-:

North, I know you have been away for some time from the adopted motherland but contain yourself. This IS England. While they are great at many things football is just not one of them.

 

Ask yourself, when was the last time they BEAT a “big” team? Like Germany, Italy, Argentina or Holland? Unless they start doing that for at least a decade, they cant talk. Save your energy. Beating Slovenia by 1 goal does not suddenly make them all Pales. It doesn’t even take a football expert to know this.

 

p.s. I hope Schweinsteiger will be fit to play Sunday and Klose will be back on hand.

Wa-Wa-Wa. Nicely worded.Many People think the success of the premier league will somehow transfer to the national team.

 

However,I think England can beat Germany. There is rivalry between the two that dates back to 1000 years i think.

 

Go Germany!

[Chimera]

You've got to hold and give

But do it at the right time

You can be slow or fast

But you must get to the line

They'll always hit you and hurt you

Defend and attack

Theres only one way to beat them

Get round the back

Catch me if you can

Cos' I'm the England man

And what you're looking at

Is the master plan

We ain't no hooligans

This ain't a football song

Three lions on my chest

I know we can't go wrong

 

We're playing for England {En-ger-land}

We're playing the song

We're singing for England {En-ger-land}

Arrivederci its one one one