A Match to Remember

It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen a football match. So I guess I’ll try and claim a little vicarious satisfaction out of this post. These days, most critics and so-called pundits seem eager to sound the death knell for entertaining football as we know it. With football becoming a market by itself with the players and merchandise on sale these critics are only too keen to pronounce that football has finally lost its sheen. But once in a while a game comes along that serves to prove them wrong and redeem the beautiful game that is football. The Champions League final of 2005 between Liverpool FC and AC Milan was one such match.

I was at home then. Unfortunately the match was being broadcast only on the paid channels. So we decided to watch it at ‘The Cellar’ at Radisson SAS. The four of us Viju, Chirag, Vivek Thomas and myself arrived well before time. The place was packed and a Filippino band was playing some obscure pop songs, mostly dance numbers. The music wasn’t all that great, but they finally made up for it with a beautiful rendition of Hotel California, complete with the superlative guitar solo at the end. Of course the fact that they had a cute female on the vocals came as some solace. We were soon joined by Rohit Sumanth and his brother Rahul, Monisha, Abhishek and Mohit, none of whom I guess were all that crazy about football.

To get back to the topic, the game finally began at about 10.30 pm. It was billed to be a lackluster affair, the two teams replete with world-class defenders. But then, with likes of Shevchenko, Kaka and Milan Baros playing there was some hope for the lovers of good attacking football. The game kicked off and who could’ve asked for a better start. With only about 30 seconds of play Milan went ahead, the goal coming from the most unlikely of sources, their captain and stellar defender, Paolo Maldini. Milan kept up the tempo throughout the first half, very unbecoming of an Italian team, and by half-time deservedly gained a three goal lead, thanks to two good finishes from their Argentine forward, Hernan Crespo, ironically on loan from Chelsea, Liverpool’s perennial Premiership rivals.

At that point I remember Chirag telling me that he felt the final score-line would read 3-2. Liverpool, according to him was too good a team to be written off that easily. I could only laugh at him and state my feeling that the score-line could only widen in the second half, if the veritable difference in class was any testimony.

But then the second half started and it was pretty evident that Rafa Benitez had done his job in the break, for Liverpool was now surging forward with a spring in their step. Within the space of six minutes they pegged their way back to 3-3. First it was a headed goal from their captain and playmaker Gerrard. Then a fantastic strike from the Czech midfielder, Vladmir Smicer. Then came a controversial penalty which was converted by Alonso, after the ball rebounded from the hands of goal-keeper Dida. Those six minutes were probably one of the games most telling spells, akin to Manchester Uniteds two minute spell against Bayern in the 1999-2000 Champions League final. But then the goals were going to stop there, for Liverpool was quite content to sit back and soak the pressure for the rest of the game. Milan, on their part could not make that incisive run to break apart the Liverpool defence and the game moved into extra-time. Here Milan had most of the chances but the writing was pretty much on the wall. When a world-class striker like Shevchenko misses a straightforward chance then it’s pretty obvious that fate isn’t on Milan’s side. The game drew to a close with the two teams still deadlocked at 3-3.

I for one am not of the opinion that a good game of football should finally be decided on a game of chance more than anything else. But then a penalty shootout is probably the only reasonable way to bring the proceedings to a decisive end. In the ensuing shootout three Milan players including the talismanic Shevchenko missed their spot kicks and Liverpool were crowned champions of Europe for the fifth time. The unlikely hero on that night was their Polish keeper Jerzy Dudek.

A game to redeem all games, a match to silence the critics, a match to remember for eternity; All these, except of course if you were a fan of the AC Milan football club. It was about 1.30 pm when we started back home. The Cellar, unfortunately, wasn’t a no-smoking bar and was filled with a perpetual cloud of cigarette smoke. Coming out, I was absolutely and completely reeking of smoke. Not wanting to confront my dad in the dead of the night in that state, I convinced Viju to stop the car at a 24 hr outlet and bought a can of deo, which I amply used on myself. That, I guess proved to be as decisive as Rafa Beintez’s half time talk for my dad never seemed to notice anything strange. Or maybe he did and never mentioned it. Anyway, I was too tired to worry about it and almost immediately hit the sack.

' The Writing on the Wall' - An interesting sign on the way from Forum to Legends of Rock

The Grand Slam

The year 2006 AD shall be remebered for quite a few bizarre and memorable happenings ; George Bush being awarded the Nobel Prize for Peace, Osama Bin Laden, the erstwhile brand ambassador of terrorism, announcing his conversion to Buddhism and of course Trinidad & Tobago's stunning victory at the World Cup.

But there was one major happening which was quite forgotten in the hype surrounding the remaining events. Only a handful of people really know how close mankind had come to total world domination by a fearsome and power-hungry force (not counting Microsoft of course), for this was the year that the Earth was attacked by the Bugs, a race of ugly, stinky,ill-tempered,fowl mouthed (they possessed the unenviable talent of being able to speak with whole live chicken stuffed in their mouths) and not to mention hexapodal (half the population of the race was wiped out in a battle over the debate of whether to classifytheir second pair of limbs as hands or legs. This was after a rampant rebel group ran amok and committed a pesticide which decimated the population of the race ) alien creatures. Worst of all, they lacked any sort of table manners.

Well coming back to the point, the Earth was on the verge of a veritable conquest by a powerful alien force. The aliens, identifying the UN as the central power on the earth (boy, were they mistaken!) contacted a certain Kofi Annan, informing him of their wish to take over the Earth and subject its people to slavery. The UN was in a fix. They tried bargaining with the Bugs. An offer of 10 Billion Afgahns was made, which the Bugs flatly refused. They were not that ignorant when it came to currencies and exchange rates. After much haggling the two parties finally came to an agreement. The fate of the earth was to be decided over a game of tennis. (Tennis was indeed a popular game amongst the bugs)

Well...if the future of the Earth lay in the outcome of a game of tennis there was one man that humanity could bet its life on, Roger Federer. On a bright, cloudless morning when Roger was milking his prize cow he received a phone call from Mr Annan informing him of the situation. Roger, never shy to prove his mettle accepted the request without any complaints. The Bugs on heir part chose their own tennis hero, Magus Bugdatis, ten time winner of the Grab Slam.

The stage was set for the great battle. It was to played at the Mecca of human tennis, Wimbledon. This was after a suggestion by one of the world leaders of the possibilty of using bug-spray on the grass. Anyway, one concession that the humans had to allow was to play the match bug-style, where the players could use upto four rackets at a time. Federer on his part politely declined the offer, prefferring a lone Wilson racket. This proved to be disastrous as Bugdatis raced away to a 6-2 win in the first set. Federer fought back to tie the game through a tie-breaker in the second. (Largely because the bug couldn't help gloating after the first set). But much to the horror of all the poeple watching, Bugdatis came back with a bang (a great fart actually which left Federer shaken, actually more than shaken. He was blown off into the third row of the stands.) to win the second set 6-0. Federer couldn't even muster (remember him?) a single breakpoint. The humans in the audience were stunned. This was the end of the world. The bugs were taking over! But Federer had other things on his mind. From the few points that he had won in the previous sets he had learnt that the bug had a very weak back-hand which was what he had to rely on. The trouble was getting the bug to use his back-hand when he had four hands (or should we say two hands and two legs) at his disposal. The idea was clear as crystal. What he had to do was to aim his shots at the bug's gigantic body, with its bulging abdomen and thorax. His plan seemed to be perfect for Federer won the fourth set 6-2. But the bug soon realised what Federer was aiming at and improved his game drastically in the final set. In the deciding fifth, neither player was able to win the all-important break of serve and the game was moving towards a tense finish. After five hours of a hard-fought battle the score stood at 10-10 in the fifth. The bug was beginning to enjoy this for Federer was obviously being worn out. If it came to a war off attrition it was pretty evident who was going to win the battle. Federer realised this only too clearly. He had to get the all-important break. It was the bug's chance to serve. 'This was it!' Federer thought. It was going to be now or never. Summoning all his strength Federer managed to achieve what neither player had managed in the last 20 games, a BREAKPOINT! What could possibly be better? Of course converting that point, which is exactly what he did. Now the task was pretty straightforward. He just had to hold his serve in the next game. Finally, after 5 hours and 22 mins, Federer was serving for the match with the score at 40-15. Mankind waited with baited breath. Well, you can always count on good old Roger to finish off the event in style, for he finished the game with a thumping ace which left the bug totally stunned and the humans still in control of their lives and destinies (actually maybe not) . The whole stadium filled with a deafening roar. "Roger, You're the Hero. The Saviour of the World!"

Roger Federer woke up woke up from his reverie with a jerk and stared at the computer in front of him. He shook his head and slammed his fist on the desk. (Boy! wasn't that a grand slam or what?) He got up and walked out of the room. Computer programming, and in particular debugging wasn't exactly his cup of tea.