NOTE: This was written in July 2012 just before the Summer Olympics, but I was delayed from posting. The references are dated, but the info is Footielicious!
Eyes
front class, and pay close attention. The school bell tolls for
Footie 101.
It's
a fidgety time for the Beautiful Game, with the Euros fully Euroff'd,
the regular footie season a month away, and the Olympics pert near
ready to kick off.
This
nebulous window provides us with the odd sensation experienced when
watching Olympic football. That's football, with all the grandiose
flavor of the Games, but without the calories of recognizable
players, or the aftertaste of a trophy no one really cares about.
Despite
this current lackluster incarnation – featuring mostly unknown
players aged 22 or under plus a few over-the-hill veterans sprinkled
in for good measure – Olympic football has quite the history. It's
a history my good friend “Face,” an American by birth but
Uruguayan by culture, is pained to see obscured.
The
“Olympics don't irritate me at all,” he
told me in a recent electronic communication. “What irritates me
some times is that new soccer fans (may da Lord bless them) think
that history started 20 years ago. If you wanna talk about NBA you
need to know about Bill Russell, or about Babe Ruth if you talk about
baseball. Likewise, you need to know about Uruguay if you are serious
about soccer. That's all I'm sayin.”
Sage
words. Self-congratulate yourself Face – but get a room first –
your message has been received.
Long
before Fifa was FIFA (you know, the one that conducts business with
$40,000 in cash strewn onto hotel room tables, and awards its'
signature international event to a blazing-hot desert nation with a
population the size of Houston), the then-fledgling international
sport organization allowed its' world championship to be determined
at the Olympics out of necessity.
Yes
class, that's right, the first two FIFA championships in 1924 and
1928 were conducted in the Olympic football tournament. And both were
won by (you guessed it) Uruguay.
Add
those Olympic victories to the two World Cups the tiny South American
nation won in 1930 and 1950, and Uruguay has been FIFA-recognized
world champion four times. That's one short of the all-time leaders
Brazil, as many as Italy, and one more than Germany.
It
should also be noted that Uruguay's 1950 World Cup victory took place
in Brazil, against Brazil. As Bond famously said: How do you kill two
hours in Rio when you don't know how to samba? Well James, in this
case, you win the World Cup.
Perhaps
Uruguay's greatest football achievement comes with the 20 officially
recognized international titles it's racked up – more than any
other nation on earth.
Now
class, I'm no Uruguay partisan, but game recognizes game. More people
live in Johannesburg South Africa, Ankara Turkey, or Yokohama Japan
than the the entire 3.5 million Uruguay population.
So
when the Olympic football tournament kicks off (July 25 for the women
and July 26 for the men) realize you are watching the continuation of
… something wonderful.
The
football's not that bad either. The African nations always put up a
much more entertaining fight than in the World Cup, less-recognized
nations tend to show more strongly, and at the very least you'll get
to have an early peak at players that will be delighting/tormenting
you, your favored nation, and favored club in just a few years.
So
watch the matches, get a heads-up on some players to watch, and raise
your glass to Uruguay for starting it all. Face, I take my steak
medium well.
In
other Beautiful Game business, defamed Middle East footie impresario
Mohamad Bin Hammam has been kind-of cleared of bribing FIFA officials
to select Qatar as host of the 2022 World Cup. Bin Hammam, the most
recent upstart FIFA presidential candidate, had been tied to the
previously mentioned hotel table cash that was miraculously delivered
to FIFA executive committee members in Trinidad before they chose the
WC's 2018 and 2022 hosts.
The
investigation – conducted by former FBI director Louis Freeh fresh
off of telling Penn State it's a poorly led institution of higher
learning – was not able to conclusively link Bin Hammam to alleged
bribery, so his lifelong ban from the game was lifted. But the Court
of Arbitration for Sport made a point of noting it was “not making
any sort of affirmative finding of innocence.”
The
FP knows that when there's smoke, there's usually fire, and when
there's $40 grand cash on a Triny hotel table, even a simpleton
recognizes that as a bribe. But in an organization where bribes and
kickbacks are the order of of the day everyday, Bin Hammam's real
mistake was trying to take on FIFA King Sepp Blatter.
Though
ridiculously wealthy, charming, and well-connected, Bin Hammam found
himself compelled to withdraw from the FIFA presidential race the day
before a Blatter-initiated FIFA ethics probe into Qatar's selection.
Two months later, after the King had had enough of his impudence,
FIFA banned Bin Hammam from football for life.
Game.
Set. Match. All hail the King.
Those
who think these latest inquiry results place the King's throne back
in jeopardy, know nothing of power. Two days before Bin Hammam was
cleared, a new FIFA investigation was launched. This time led by
former U.S. attorney Michael J. Garciaas and
German judge Hans-Joachim Eckert.
And
though Bin Hammam's lifelong ban has been lifted, his official FIFA
role through the Asian Football Confederation remains out of his
reach after a conveniently-recent forensic audit found financial
improprieties during his tenure.
King
Sepp Blatter ain't nuthin to mess with.
And
if you think Sepp is the ultimate power in the football universe,
venture back a few decades to marvel at the skill his mentor Joao
Havelange used to reign graftily over football.
Now
“Joao Sidious,” more than anyone else, propelled football and
Zurich-based FIFA into the modern marketing age. But the now
96-year-old Brazilian also did it while handily lining his pockets.
Recently
leaked Swiss court documents (from yet another investigation of FIFA)
found Havelange and son-in-law Ricardo Teixeira – the defrocked
Brazilian football czar – accepted kickbacks from the company
Havelange selected to market the WC in the 1990s.
Blatter,
who was Havelange's protege and chief lieutenant at the time,
acknowledged knowing about the payments after the documents were
leaked, but in true pimp fashion, brushed off the corruption claim by
asserting that such payments were legal in Switzerland at the time.
He's
since positioned himself more sturdily by saying his former liege
should be stripped of his honorary FIFA presidency.
In
the wake of this latest dust-up, German Football chief Reinhard
Rauball has added himself to the King's enemies list by making the
mistake of calling for Sepp's resignation. By now, you should
know how that story will end.
Questioned
by a reporter on Rauball's demand, Sepp took it in stride – perhaps
even motioning to an underling to put Rauball's name in his book.
Calm as ever, The King suggested he could run for a fourth term, and
replied: “Let's see how my health is. I've
just been for a checkup and I lost four kilograms (eight pounds).”
And
Havelange, the ancient footie demi-god's name graces a stadium set to
feature prominently at the Rio 2014 Summer Olympics. Given the recent
disclosures of impropriety, some local crusaders want the name
changed. But if the old master has any of juju his protege flaunts on
a regular basis, the name will only be changed to feature the letters
“Havelange” in golden lights.
And
now, your footie anecdote:
Fellow
Brazilian and eternally buck-toothed footballer Ronaldinho has gotten
himself into hot... cola after appearing at a news conference
drinking a Pepsi. Unfortunately for the once-great Brasilero turned
laissez faire football leach, he was a signed endorser of Coca-Cola.
Now
a man who's played for some of the biggest clubs in Europe, and
featured in Champions League finals and World Cup finals, should
understand marketing and endorsement contracts – especially the
ones that fatten his pockets.
But
if he hadn't appreciated the power of cola scorned before, he will
now, and will grovel at the knowledge that it is the power of the
libation lord that made things go bump in the night when he was just
a wee Brazilian guttersnipe – or whatever the equivalent would be.
What's
bumping now is pocket change rattling in the giant sucking sound his
bank account is making. It'll now be deprived of $750,000-a-year Coke
was paying him. And for this, The FP bestows Ronaldinho with my
least-cherished accolade: What A Dope.
Class
Dismissed.