Originally published by Ace Magazine online. June 2014.
Holland playing against Mexico, perhaps one in which the purist and the hopeful could both savour the football that was surely to be placed before an awaiting world, or at least that cared about such matters and who weren’t enthralled by the arrival of Dolly Parton at Glastonbury or the more serious topics surrounding the battlegrounds that used to resemble Iraq and Syria and the tension that grumbles on between the European Union, Russia and the Ukraine.
Holland have come so close on three occasions to the main prize, twice it can be argued they fully deserved too when they game they played was so exquisite on the eye that it warranted a round of applause every time they caressed the ball into the back of the net. The British may have given football to the world, the Brazilians may be its guardians but the Dutch, the Dutch for a time made it so beautiful that you could have put in a beat up old shopping bag and it would have shone with greater allure than the sun shining over the River Mersey.
For Mexico, to have got out of the group stages must be considered a success, but richly justified nonetheless and yet for a generation they have failed to progress past the last 16. Not for the want of trying just have been unfortunate to come across better teams in the second round. Something would have to give, either the Dutch would find their early promise wane quicker than a straight A student suddenly finding University life too stressful or the Mexican’s would find that extra mile in their tank and come roaring out of the blocks quicker than a mouse wearing a sombrero.
What would inevitably come into play though would be the sapping heat of the afternoon sun, the rising humidity and temperature which really now should be a warning sign to F.I.F.A that for the World Cup to be held in Qatar, a country so hot it makes sitting down next to a fully working furnace for 40 hours seem like a cool breeze hitting the slopes of Mount Everest, should seriously be reconsidered. Forget any alleged allegations placed at the door of F.I.F.A., forget any whiff of alleged scandal hanging round like the smell of a dead emu festering away in a zoo, what matters is the safety of the players and the many hundreds of thousands of fans who will make their way to that country. Yes there is the chance of a winter World Cup; it doesn’t take away the thought of the huge disruption that will go along with it.
To watch a game in which only came to life in the final 20 minutes, arguably because neither side could bear the thought of playing for another 30 minutes plus in such humidity, especially after the way the Chile V Brazil and the later match of Costa Rica V Greece ended up sapping the strength of every player, to watch that type of display is not what millions would have wanted to witness.
The other issue, in game that could have seen Mexico join Costa Rica from Central America in the last eight and there for a guaranteed last four placing for the region, is the abundance of gamesmanship that has crept ever forward into the game. It has arguably always been there, no matter what team, no matter what level of the game, but to see Robin Van Persie at one point caught red handed like a Herring Gull chowing down on the remains of a fish supper left on a Glasgow street, tug the shirt of a player with such undisguised flippancy and get away with the punishment of a free kick surely needs to have the men at the top of the game really and finally sort this type of machinations out. Forget the spraying of the ten yard wall, although that to be fair has been shown to work outstandingly, what is needed is perhaps retrospective action on the diving, the tussles in the box in which a player can feign injury or indeed get away with the type of action that if done on the streets of Saltash, Oxford, Amsterdam or Athens would have a charge brought quicker to book than Lewis Hamilton could drive around Brands Hatch.
How it would work takes better people than the fan on the street to work out but it certainly needs to happen sooner rather than later for even the most bullish of Holland’s fans would surely agree, the don’t want to win the ultimate footballing prize in such a fashion.
The game itself was a dogged affair, made infinitely worse by the seemingly unbearable temperature inside the Estádio Castelão. It will also go down in history as the game in which the first official cooling down break made its much discussed entrance. Whilst it is right that this happens when player’s health are at stake, you cannot but help feel that somebody somewhere just had the idea of making it compulsory, no matter the weather, and the knock on effect of extra advertising revenue rears its ugly distinctive head. Whilst this isn’t the aim it certainly did enough to disrupt the game in both halves enough to make it seem viable.
With the only notable action in the first half being the early replacement of former Manchester City General Nigel De Jong, the game seemed to grind between foul, blatant foul and wondering just how badly either side really wanted to take on the winners of Costa Rica and Greece and a possible, almost guaranteed slot on the semi-finals. Exhaustion was written all the faces of the Dutch team and the frustration for Luis Van Gall, the new manager of Manchester United and his assistants was telling to say the least. The single most telling act was the temperature, a stunning 38 degrees at pitch side. If this was in another domain they would issue health warnings.
With that in mind it was perhaps no surprise that Mexico finally took the lead early in the second half as Dos Santos gave 120 million people back home in Mexico the type of delirium in which could only come about when the unfancied, the underdog take control, this was the type of start to the second half in which revolutions could happen.
This World Cup has already had some of the most memorable goals thrust within it, it will remembered for a lot of right reason because of it and the opening goal of this game was no less illustrious. A hopeful long ball was played by Aguilar and comes off the head of Vlarr to which Giovani Dos Santos took it down with the elegance of a ballet dancer performing Swan Lake for the 100th time and cavorts, arguably with some ease past the ever increasing tired Dutch defence and pumps it in the black of the net, a superb half volley from a sizeable distance.
If there was somebody who would frustrate the Dutch then Guillermo Ochoa in the Mexican goal was the right man in the right circumstances. Even his close reaction saves were enough to see why he has been beloved in the French league and as the game wore on, those saves were becoming more and more vital. These heroics only served as fuel to the Dutch team who finally woke up to the fact that they were in severe danger of being the fall guys to their own joke. The way they had served Spain up on a platter had shocked the world of football in the opening few days of the competition and here they were on the verge of being consumed at the sweet stage of the menu. Arjen Robben was certainly feeling the exasperation as 68 minutes he found himself on the floor in the penalty area having adjudged to have made the most of being tackled by the near ghost of the leg of Layún.
The other side of his nature, the talent that has fans struggling to hold back affection in the narrow confines of the back alley public houses all over the Netherlands, came when he collected a ball from Dirk Kuyt and set off on a run down the wing, into the Mexican box, riding challenges as if he were a veteran rodeo rider and was only denied by the larger than life goalkeeper who threw himself into the save as if his life depended upon it. He could have easily gone down, if he had it would have been a nailed on penalty and yet the masterful Dutchman stayed on his feet and made a mockery of the slight breeze that he must have felt a few minutes before.
Domination pays off in the end and the Dutch had certainly made up for the opening hour of the game in which they were fragile and seemingly non-existent in their approach to the game.
From their tenth corner, Arjen Robben, easily the best player for the Dutch all evening; crossed the ball with some accuracy to substitute Klaas-Jan Huntelaar who headed it down to the ageless Wesley Sneijder rifling in from 16 yards into the bottom corner of the Mexican net. If the net hadn’t been there it could have travelled on and out of the ground, such was its blistering accuracy.
That goal seemed to knock the stuffing out of the Mexicans and it really was with no surprise that Holland bagged a late winner thanks to a penalty, produced by Arjen Robben and converted by Klaas-Jan Huntelaar.
The Mexicans will wave goodbye to a tournament in which they may have deserved more for their efforts, especially after holding Brazil terrifically in the group stages, however, for the Dutch, for the majesty of a side hampered at times by the heat and their own frustrations, they march on and will now be looking at the trophy with industrious eyes.
Holland: Jasper Cillessen, Paul Verhaegh, Dirk Kuyt, Ron Vlaar, Stefan De Vrij, Daley Blind, Nigel De Jong, Georginio Wijnaldum, Wesley Sneijder. Robin Van Persie, Arjen Robben.
Substitutes: Bruno Martins Indi, Klaas-Jan Huntelaar. Memphis Depay
Mexico: Guillermo Ochoa, Francisco Rodríguez, Carlos Salcido, Rafael Márquez, Hector Herrera, Miguel Layún, Giovani Dos Santos, Hector Moreno, Andres Guardado, Oribe Peralta, Paul Aguilar.
Substitutes: Diego Reyes, Javier Aquino, Javier Hernández.
Venue: Estádio Castelão
Referee: Pedro Proença (Portugal)
Goal Scorers: Mexico: Giovani Dos Santos, Holland: Wesley Sneijder, Klaas-Jan Huntelaar
Final Score Mexico 1-2 Holland
Man of the Match: Guillermo Ochoa (Mexico)
Ian D. Hall.