The Ball has now returned back to England, but we’re not done with it quite yet – this site will continue to develop even though there’s no more Cup. As well as the continuing saga on video, there will be flashbacks to times we didn’t manage to write about, more on the real story of how football left home, and some extra eyecandy for you all. With a bit of luck, we’ll keep this site growing and changing until The Ball 2006 leaves for Germany in just under four years time.

World Cup 2002 RIP.

World Cup 2006 here we come: a new blog and another plan for a trip.

Roll on 2006!

The Videos

I’ve added a video page to the site where you can find all the videos that are currently online and interspersed among the stories. Now you can browse the story more conveniently from a single page.

A fast connection (ie, faster than a modem) is recommended if you don’t want to have to go and make a cup of tea each time you click a link. You’ll also need a recent version of Quicktime to view the videos, although a direct link to the file is provided if you want to watch it through another viewer.

Some of the videos were edited during the trip by Monika at Alles ist Moglich! in Berlin, who has been a star for putting up with our dodgy logging and for wading through the endless rushes. Thanks, Monika…

And so, at last, we blow the the final whistle, only to find that it may be the start of something new…

faster | slower

Homeward bound…

Well, we eventually touched down in Paris, where we were met by a driver from Kirker Travel, who kindly donated Eurostar tickets for the two of us to get back to Ashford (where we’re to be picked up by Ben and hopefully driven straight to the nearest pub for a pint of proper ale). Rather sweetly, the driver was waiting with the following sign as we walked out of the arrivals gate…

Wake / Wach

I was trying to think up tabloid headlines like ‘Kahn you believe it?’, ‘Ronaldo the Kahnivore’ to title this entry, but decided to keep it simple instead. Indeed, I’m only going to burden the world with another two points of game analysis. But before getting on to that, I have to say:

Congratulations to Brazil… commiserations to Germany… what a game that was…

So then, my two points… the first concerns the moment the Cup was lost; the second the moment it was won. I guess by now everyone knows when they were – the two Brazilian goals.

I had a feeling that this first meeting between Brazil and Germany might be defined by the Ronaldo/Kahn duel. It had been Kahn’s Cup until the final, in the sense that Manchester United’s European Cup victory had been Schmeichel’s Cup – the crowning moment of an illustrious career. For Ronaldo, on the other hand, there were the ghosts of France 1998 to lay to rest.

I would have felt gutted to see Germany lose 1-0 yesterday… when Kahn spilled Rivaldo’s weak shot at Ronaldo’s feet, he didn’t just give him the ball – but also the Cup. This was defining moment number one for me – not the goal itself, but Kahn’s fumble. I would have been upset to see Germany lose that way because I believe something as momentous as the World Cup should not be lost so much as won. And winning a game like that takes a positive statement of some kind…

Which is exactly what the second Brazilian goal was. A spectacularly beautiful goal, no less, which finished a move that contained everything I love about Brazilian football – blistering pace, guile and consummate skill. With that goal, I thought Ronaldo made victory legitimate.

In that second defining moment, Brazil won the World Cup.

As for yesterday, it was brilliant see Ronaldo back to his best, and beautiful beat boring to let the samba time begin. Unfortuanately there isn’t much of a Brazilian community in Alice Springs, but we celebrated on their behalf.

On a slightly different tack, the Bhutanese also had cause to celebrate yesterday – after the alternative World Cup Final which was played hours before Brazil v Germany kicked off in Japan.

This was no celebration of footballing prowess, but a final for the two worst teams in the world, and was contested by teams from Bhutan and Monserrat – ranked 202nd and 203rd in the World respectively. For a full report check out this address:

Montserrat ‘world’s worst’ (BBC Sport)

Getting to Japan was the only the start of the journey for me, but the culmination of a long journey for Phil and Chris, who hopefully will go on to bigger and better things after eventually getting the media coverage they deserved.

Have to say that I had a whale of a time travelling through China, and it was worth everything to have experienced playing football with Buddhist monks in their natural habit(at).

Only 24 hours from…?

See you all in Germany 2006.

Again we have the pleasure to share a stadium with the Brazilian fans, but this time they won leaving only one game between themselves and a possible FIVE World Cup championships. ‘PENTA Campion’ rings off their lips with understandable confidence, though of course the mighty Kahn will stand between the sticks for Germany.

‘Penta Campion’ rings out here in this mpeg.

Brazil, in the Semi-Final of the World Cup, play…

…Turkey in Saitama Stadium, Japan.

The bagpipes were here… (see them played with a brazilian drummer here in this mpeg).

…with branded Japanese

…flagged up Brazilians…

…ladies…

‘n’ chris and I.

The atmosphere was thick with football, Japanese fans and the ever present FIFA branding. This ‘rich man’s World Cup’ game had cost us, face value, $500 each.

Brazil crowd spells Ronaldo

Ronaldo does nothing for the first half and then scores a beauty that turned out to be the winner, then it was down the hairdressers for a quiet moan about the tension he feels from the hours he spends on computer games? Yes.

Turkish and Brazilian reconciliation

Not a report on the game – mainly because it hasn’t happened yet. But when it does, we’re going to be pitchside – just scored two category one tickets…

Must dash – got a game to see!

Unlucky Korea went out to the Cup last night… rather overpowered by a German team playing a similar style of football – a disciplined team game with little flair and much hard work. Korea had far fewer chances than they did against any of the latin teams that they put out of the competition, and in the end, succumbed to the sustained German pressure.

Our restaurant both shows the game and provides the soundtrack

We watched the game in the Korean enclave of Tokyo, surrounded by both Japanese and Koreans cheering for the Reds. I too cheered for the locals, despite being half German – the other half of me is Polish, and the Koreans put them out of contention in the first game… but most of all I supported Korea because I really wanted to see Tokyo flooded with Korean supporters at the weekend.

No doubt in Phil’s mind, however…

…Michael shows his colours…

…while the Japanese offered mixed support

But it was Germany’s night, with Michael Ballack scoring the winning goal – knowing he wouldn’t be playing in the Final. I don’t care what nationality you are, that’s gotta hurt.

Black belt origami in honour of Korea’s spirit

The Koreans were as gracious in defeat as they were exuberant in victory, and I left the restaurant where we watched the game marvelling at the generosity and enthusiasm that they have shown throughout the competition. And they still get to play again in Korea for third/fourth place… whatever happens in the game, Korea should go wild again.

I say, jolly good show, what?

faster | slower

Well I woke up this morning,
To catch a bullet to the game…

Shooting ourselves in the foot(ball)

But the waking wasn’t worth it,
Coz the football match was lame…

Bullet train logo

Sixty quid each invested in two return tickets to Shizuoka – no hope of getting in to the game, but high hopes of hooking up with other fans and watching the game on a big screen nearby, which is the next best thing to being inside the stadium…

Wrong platform

We anticipated the bullet train whisking us to Shizuoka at lightning speed, but first had to find the right one – a more tricky task than I thought… no-one spoke English, but the usual mixture of gesture and smiles prevailed in the end.

The game already in progress

Arrival at interchange to the local train found us talking to other England fans, some of whom had tickets, others, like us, here for the atmosphere. The bullet train had been slower than we first thought, and a quick look at the station clock revealed that the game was to start in five minutes. Some kindly Japanese folk lent us their portable TVs so that we didn’t miss a moment.

As close as we got to the stadium

Yes, indeed. Unbelievable as it was to us, the stadium was utterly unapproachable, and there seemed to be no sign of a big screen for the crowds of Brazilians, English and Japanese in England or Brazil disguise. A hundred Beckhams with nowhere to go… except round and round the windswept merchandising plaza. Buy a ticket, buy the shirt, buy the flag and commemorative keyring… and then piss off out of here.

As good as it got…

…in the way of big screen action.

Fortunately for us, a Japanese lad had brought along his portable DVD player, and we crowded round the tiny, flickering screen in the shadow of the train station – until even this small crumb of interaction with the nearby events was also taken from us – the police deeming our little gathering to be a nuisance, and moving DVD lad along.

The bitter end

Luckily, a wizened old Japanese woman with a portable TV was nearby, taking no orders from the megaphone-wielding police. She stood stubbornly behind their barriers, watching the final moments of the game… turning the screen towards me so I could see the spectacle come to a close in the stadium. Final whistle, and back to Tokyo as fast as is possible… 50,000 fans wanting to get out of there, and not even an extra train laid on.

Back in town, I decided to go watch the Germany v. USA game in an English pub. Nowhere else seemed to be showing the game, and I’m instantly fleeced for six quid a pint. Miserably, I find a corner of the bar to stand and forget myself in the game in progress. As the second half begins, Phil walks in, just arrived from Shizuoka.

Phil plays the blues

After the game finished, Phil and his harmonica joined the band on stage to play the blues… an ironic, but perfectly matched accompaniment to a bluer-than-blue day.

Poor England dead and gone,
Left us here to sing this song,
Pretty little boys with their red shirts on,
Poor England dead and gone.
They’ve got the running blues,
Running away,
Back to UK…

(with apologies to Mr. Morrison)

Surely not!!

We shall see.

Come on you EEEEEENGERLAND!