Irony of genius Zidane dismissal
05/09/06
July 2006 was soccer genius, Zinedine Zidane's,
international soccer swansong. The Frenchman of
Algerian parentage had had a premonition that he
was going to lift the World Cup trophy in Germany
for the second time in his illustrious
golden-booted career. The former world's greatest
player, and the best player of the competition,
seemed to have hit the nail on the head with his
prediction. France strolled passionately to the
finals.
Sadly, the only thing that was hit with a head was a smarmy Italian player called Maserati, I believe. Bang, Zidane head-butted him straight in the chest after an exchange of words. What a shot, and what a way to leave the field forever. And the maestro's silence on the matter provoked untold theories on what on earth was said that he lost his head and blew his, and his team's chances of winning the World Cup.
Maserati is of course a classy car, and Marco Materazzi is the actual name of the classless footballer involved in this incident.
Zidane looks very intelligent. Even with his "shaved hair and stubble" style leaving him looking like a Foreign Legionnaire in shorts, his eyes beam brilliance. His feet normally do the talking for him on the pitch, though, and those pegs can dazzle and weave incredible magic. Afterall, he is built like a hurdler, and is a big guy compared to most of the saps trying to rob him of the ball. However, he can turn on a sixpence quicker than a London taxi and pass as accurately as Beckham. And volleys, he can spontaneously strike a ball from anywhere inside or outside the box and leave goalies stranded for dead. Add in the typical air of tranquility bestowed on all exceptional sportsmen, except Gazza, and he was the consummate adored idol of many.
Putting his incredible ball control to one side, think for a moment about his ability to strategize. Zidane had a wonderful insight into the way the games might go in Germany. His team was older than most, but three important figures had re-emerged from retirement for one last heave ho. With a strong spine to the team, he obviously fancied the back door route via Brazil into the final. As underdogs, his team did indeed stuff the football world's favourites quite easily in the semi finals, and beat those goddammed cheating Portuguese sons of bitches on the way there too. So Zidane, a shrewd player under a Gallic nincumpoop of a coach, was essentially on target to achieve his dream. But something went horribly wrong at the last knockings.
This Maserati guy at the centre of the spectacular dismissal, is about the lowest form of soccer player, at least in British eyes. A typical foreign mercenary who ended up not liking the weather, he was an awkward cuss on the field too. He left England under a cloud, remembered for crying in frustration at being yellow-carded. Warning signs indeed of things to come. Somehow he weadled his way into the Italian squad. Not a popular guy with fellow professionals, he was always willing to wind someone up, always ready with a tear just in case he bit off more than he could chew trying to bullshit a ref who was obviously onto his niggly tactics.
He shed no tears ironically when one of the world's greatest sportsmen was provoked into a street-fighter attack on him, a head butt straight to the chest. Oh how the mighty are fallen.
The whole soccer world watching the all-European final was probably perplexed by Zidane's attack on Maserati. But I bet they were not as amazed as the Italian when he ended up on the floor. In case he failed to record and watch it 50 times, he was on the end of a really good feint and lunge, worthy of any pub brawl.
Clearly something inflammatory was said, because Zidane has had his shirt tugged plenty enough times not to get annoyed by that. In light of the political climate, people loved to dredge up the anti-Muslim/racist card. That I-tie must have called him "Osama" or "terrorist" or some equally derogatory remark. After all, Zidane looks like a terrorist doesn't he, and he must be tied to Al Quaeda because he has Arab blood in him? Poppycock!
The biggest irony of all the controversy is that Maserati didn't even know Zidane had a sister when he allegedly tugged one too many times at Zinedine's shirt, the Frenchman offered to give it him at the end of the game, and the dumb ass Azuri said he would prefer Zinedine's sister instead!
Maserati can have my sister, if he likes. She won't make him cry in frustration, or head butt him when he gets lippy. She is smarter than Zinedine Zidane, and will just hurt him where it hurts most - threaten to stop his hair cream allowance.
And the mighty Zidane, far from ending life in disgrace, quaffed down a few vinos and croissants with his country's leaders and remains adored by all and sundry around the world. Nice.
Can you think of any other top sportsmen who have committed a bad foul, or behaved atrociously etc but been excused/forgiven by the public, just because they are so loved?
check out the Good Questions page
Sadly, the only thing that was hit with a head was a smarmy Italian player called Maserati, I believe. Bang, Zidane head-butted him straight in the chest after an exchange of words. What a shot, and what a way to leave the field forever. And the maestro's silence on the matter provoked untold theories on what on earth was said that he lost his head and blew his, and his team's chances of winning the World Cup.
Maserati is of course a classy car, and Marco Materazzi is the actual name of the classless footballer involved in this incident.
The masterful brains of the French operation
Zidane looks very intelligent. Even with his "shaved hair and stubble" style leaving him looking like a Foreign Legionnaire in shorts, his eyes beam brilliance. His feet normally do the talking for him on the pitch, though, and those pegs can dazzle and weave incredible magic. Afterall, he is built like a hurdler, and is a big guy compared to most of the saps trying to rob him of the ball. However, he can turn on a sixpence quicker than a London taxi and pass as accurately as Beckham. And volleys, he can spontaneously strike a ball from anywhere inside or outside the box and leave goalies stranded for dead. Add in the typical air of tranquility bestowed on all exceptional sportsmen, except Gazza, and he was the consummate adored idol of many.
Putting his incredible ball control to one side, think for a moment about his ability to strategize. Zidane had a wonderful insight into the way the games might go in Germany. His team was older than most, but three important figures had re-emerged from retirement for one last heave ho. With a strong spine to the team, he obviously fancied the back door route via Brazil into the final. As underdogs, his team did indeed stuff the football world's favourites quite easily in the semi finals, and beat those goddammed cheating Portuguese sons of bitches on the way there too. So Zidane, a shrewd player under a Gallic nincumpoop of a coach, was essentially on target to achieve his dream. But something went horribly wrong at the last knockings.
The bad guy
This Maserati guy at the centre of the spectacular dismissal, is about the lowest form of soccer player, at least in British eyes. A typical foreign mercenary who ended up not liking the weather, he was an awkward cuss on the field too. He left England under a cloud, remembered for crying in frustration at being yellow-carded. Warning signs indeed of things to come. Somehow he weadled his way into the Italian squad. Not a popular guy with fellow professionals, he was always willing to wind someone up, always ready with a tear just in case he bit off more than he could chew trying to bullshit a ref who was obviously onto his niggly tactics.
He shed no tears ironically when one of the world's greatest sportsmen was provoked into a street-fighter attack on him, a head butt straight to the chest. Oh how the mighty are fallen.
The Con
The whole soccer world watching the all-European final was probably perplexed by Zidane's attack on Maserati. But I bet they were not as amazed as the Italian when he ended up on the floor. In case he failed to record and watch it 50 times, he was on the end of a really good feint and lunge, worthy of any pub brawl.
Clearly something inflammatory was said, because Zidane has had his shirt tugged plenty enough times not to get annoyed by that. In light of the political climate, people loved to dredge up the anti-Muslim/racist card. That I-tie must have called him "Osama" or "terrorist" or some equally derogatory remark. After all, Zidane looks like a terrorist doesn't he, and he must be tied to Al Quaeda because he has Arab blood in him? Poppycock!
The biggest irony of all the controversy is that Maserati didn't even know Zidane had a sister when he allegedly tugged one too many times at Zinedine's shirt, the Frenchman offered to give it him at the end of the game, and the dumb ass Azuri said he would prefer Zinedine's sister instead!
The happy ending
Maserati can have my sister, if he likes. She won't make him cry in frustration, or head butt him when he gets lippy. She is smarter than Zinedine Zidane, and will just hurt him where it hurts most - threaten to stop his hair cream allowance.
And the mighty Zidane, far from ending life in disgrace, quaffed down a few vinos and croissants with his country's leaders and remains adored by all and sundry around the world. Nice.
Can you think of any other top sportsmen who have committed a bad foul, or behaved atrociously etc but been excused/forgiven by the public, just because they are so loved?
check out the Good Questions page
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