World Cup Fever, Part 52
Like many of you, I was appalled that Italy beat Australia the other day, 1-0, with about five seconds to go in stoppage time. The "win" came on a penalty kick that shouldn't have been a penalty kick; trying to stop a run by Italian Fabio Grosso, Australian defender Lucas Neill attempted a sliding tackle inside the box. A dangerous play if you don't make contact with the ball...but Neill didn't make contact with either the ball or Grosso. The Italian began to maneuver around Neill's prone form, then came up with a better idea; he fell over his opponent. The ref called a penalty kick, and that was it.
There are two schools of thought about diving in soccer. One is that it's boring and irritating and reflects a certain lack of toughness that is very un-American; we are, in theory, tough. The other is that it's an art form, as
Austin Kelly argues in Slate today.
Perhaps both are true, but I'm inclined to dislike the ease with which players fall to the ground and grab their calves in apparent agony, only to jump to their feet and trot around seconds later. It disrupts the flow of the contest, like all those fouls in the last minute of a basketball game. And, as Harvey Mansfield would put it, it is not manly.
(Professor Mansfield, an op-ed on this subject would be timely: soccer diving, manliness, and the American aesthetic. Feel free to run with that.)
Besides, the Australians—the Soccceroos—played a tough game against a far more experienced opponent. Wouldn't it have been great if they'd beaten the Italians? The team from Italy has not particularly impressed me so far...but they're great actors. Get anywhere near them and they crumble like France's Maginot Line.
Come to think of it, the French are pretty good at diving too.
Let's see now, who's left: England, France, Germany, Brasil, Argentina, Italy, Ukraine, and Portugal.
How can you not root for Brasil?
The Italian takes a dive—thereby robbing Australia, a great nation,
of a chance to advance at the World Cup.