Spain vs Germany

Croatia clinically destroyed Germany. Germany outplayed and outpaced Portugal. Turkey put both, the Czechs and the Croats out. Holland destroys Italy and France. Then, Russia destroys Holland beating the Dutch at their own ‘total’ game. Germany beat Turkey at their own game, scoring a dramatic, late winner. Which means the only team that has played true to form and delivered every game is Spain. Not once have they faltered. Going by that alone, they should be favourties to win the final on Sunday. They are also, overwhelmingly the neutral favourites. Which is why, if your betting, go with Germany.

Multi-reading

I normally read one book at a time. Immersed, I normally read start to finish. But should it be too long and stretch into another day, it’s the only written word that has my attention. However, in a new-found vein of multi-reading I find myself going at three books right now. Not all at the same time, but, the three have very nicely slotted themselves into my daily routine. Sir Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children is when I’m on the throne. Gunmen and Gangsters, A History of Crime is before I sleep and The Economist (a mag) during the day.

Fighting when cornered

How do you win a fight if you are constantly in the corner? It can be done, but it requires astuteness, resilience and a flurry of power-packed punches. Once you’re backed into a corner by say an Ali-type situation, you ain’t gonna get a chance to get out and regroup. You need a knockout to win. So, be astute as to the punches you should allow yourself to take. Be resilient to take a beating and not lose hope. Then, at the right moment unleash the mighty counter attack. Of course, not getting into the corner is best.

Beautiful game

And so we sit on the threshold of the semifinals of the Euro 2008 with much to look back on. With two underdogs and two old warhorses in the last four, this Euro has been a testimony to football. Finally these teams that have gone through have done so because they chose to play football as against employ tactics. What was Gus Hiddink’s tactic for Russia? Go out and play beautiful free-flowing football. I truly believe Russia have it to win the Euro. Germany should crush Turkey. After all there’s only so much luck one can have. Right?

Radio gag-gag

There’s a radio station here that runs a no-talk triple play. Which, as the phrase suggests, is meant to be three songs without any talk in between. While the RJ stays out of it, the station, frustratingly for a grouch like me, interrupts the triple play, thrice, to tell you you’re in the middle of a no-talk triple play. These are precisely the kind of things that drive people to commit suicide or, for no apparent reason to change lanes without looking when driving at speeds upwards of 120 km/hour, thereby, committing suicide. Thankfully, I don’t drive. Yet.

Football lessons

Two things about Turkey’s 3-2 win over the Czech last night at Euro 2008. Firstly, it was the strongest case for teamwork, national pride and self-belief still having a part to play in modern football. It won last night over big names, better talent and tactics. The second is an example of how playing for a big club can dilute one’s commitment to one’s national side. Petr Czech, the Czech goal-keeper, has shown more passion playing for Chelsea against an FA Cup side then he did last night. When he dropped the ball it was not very surprising.

Barbers

Barbers from the Middle East – Lebanon, Turkey, Syria, Jordan – all have spruced up salons and are reminiscent of the mid-1990s in India, when the urban male found the need for a salon atmosphere to get a haircut. The Filipinos come closest to turning the entire process of male grooming into an art. In fact they have flair, style and speed in the way they go about things. The Indians, largely from the south are terribly functional. Which is why I find the Pakistanis the best. Their attention to detail and pampering of customers combines all of the above.

Pak cut

Going to the barber here in the Gulf is part of the social make-up of weekly life. At least for me, growing up in India, a trip to the barber was hardly an indulgence. And even though you eventually built a bond with the hair-cutter, it wasn’t like you sat down after, drank tea and discussed politics. That’s exactly the way it is here. Barbers here are also representative of the many nationalities that reside here. I, of course, not being racist when it comes to shearing my ever depleting locks have tried all. The Pakistanis are the best.

Grecian farce

I run the risk of overdoing the Euro 2008 in this space, especially given that we are still only in the group stages. But title holders Greece played their first game yesterday and any commentary on Euro would be incomplete without a mention of yesterday’s match, where they played Sweden. How Greece won the Last Euro Cup no one quite remembers. They just did. But their disastrous performance last night only serves to remind us that their winning the title was probably worth forgetting. Do these guys actually know how to play football? From yesterday’s show I doubt it.

Dutch renaissance?

For years and years two of my cousins were diehard Holland supporters, while I stood stoically, and against much attack from them, behind England. For years and years, the Netherlands seemed to have the quality of players to destroy everything and everyone in sight. But, ever since Marco Van Basten (now coach) and Ruud Gullit won the Euro maybe, now a decade ago, the Dutch have choked at every competition. Choked. Yesterday, they destroyed the Italians with a classic show of total football that truly harkens back to the days when orange was gold. Is this the Dutch renaissance?

Churn baby churn

I find myself today in the unenviable state of the writer’s version of cosmic chaos. I have so much to say, but absolutely nothing to write about. Thoughts, ideas, visions, dreams, beliefs, emotions are all churning through me; but can I pick a single strand from that chaos and turn into a coherent train of thought that lasts 99 words? Alas, no, not today I cannot. On these days, like the universe, one must simply be and not attempt to influence anything. Let it all churn within and as they say here in the Gulf, inshallah, meaning will emerge.

Of legends and Nadal

As I write this, Raphael Nadal is tearing Roger Federer a new arsehole at the French Open finals. A pity. Federer will always have the clay of France as the stain that denies him cannonisation as the greatest tennis player ever. It’s 4-0 in the third. I have only interacted with Roger at press conferences. But, Nadal I have had the pleasure of having dinner with. The difference between Roger and Nadal is, Roger is humble till the point it is almost embarrassing. Nadal is like Jesus. If people call him King he doesn’t argue. Until Wimbledon, of course.

Viva la Portugal

Euro 2008 begins today kicking off another 45-day soccer bonanza for lovers of the beautiful game. Sadly though England is missing. Deservedly they did not qualify. However, that leaves a huge vacuum in the hype and hoopla surrounding the tournament, evident where I am from the lack of advertising or marketing blitz that would have normally surrounded the event. Why England has such an effect on neutral nations would be worth a study. So in the absence of the team I normally back I have decided to go with Portugal for this Euro. I pick them to win it.

More Bombay

Much has been said of Bombay’s traffic. Much has been said of Dubai’s traffic. In both places it is just madness. Yet, strangely in Bombay there seems to be a method to the madness. In a drive from Churchgate to Bandra during peak traffic time, I was amazed to see how the traffic operated by some unwritten code of – do thou what thou wilt, but there shall be no accident.
Given the volume of traffic and the lack of traffic rules, it was a miracle that I did not encounter a single mishap along the way. That’s India.

Bombay

I spent the last three days in Bombay. Not the Mumbai of Dadar or Chembur or Sion or Parel, all suburbs I have shacked up at earlier, but the Bombay of Churchgate and Colaba and Bandra. I was there for the IPL climax, but enjoyed much more a blitz of the sights and sounds and tastes of areas of Bombay that few places in the world would compare to.
The eloquent-ness of ‘town’ coupled with the old-world homeliness of Bandra made for me a lovely cocktail to go with the sports snack that 20-20 cricket offered. And yummy company.