Why Bad Football Is Better Than Good Football

Well, shut my mouth, officially like. It wasn’t my fault. I was beguiled by all this talk of dead rubbers, which sounds like slang from an early Stephen King, and all these assurances that Cech was the best goalkeeper in the world and “What?! Portugal have enough players to field two world class squads! Go away before I call the authorities!” I should never have phoned ITV’s Euro 2008 fan zone.

Whatever, I’m sorry. Thus far, I think I’ve been fairly accurate in my group predictions. No perfect scores yet but I’m on the right track. Yet last night, I was made to look the fool I was by two storming games of football, at least one of which was worth watching twice. From being the most plodding and by the numbers group so far, the now laid-to-rest Group A turned out to have more twists in it than a rope weaved from reels of Alfred Hitchcock films.

How can that be? There was only one place up for grabs and only two teams to have it! And in what universe could Turkey be better than Czech Republic? In what cosmos can Colin Kazim-Richards be described as, and I quote from some idiot, ‘exciting’? I tell you where. In the galaxy of BAD FOOTBALL.

So this is what I put to you. After what we’ve seen at Euro 2008, is it possible that BAD FOOTBALL is more exciting than Good Football? Call Turkey-Czech Republic what you like, but there’s no denying there was some shocking play from goalies to goolies. From Jan Koller’s miss (I got up and made a sandwich when he started his run behind the defence, and when I came back I still had time to see him put it wide) to the Turkey goalie Volkan showing us his Masters of the Universe pyjama top, the climax to Group A had everything you want in a football match.

‘Ah,’ you proclaim, probably when I’m trying to concentrate on something important. ‘The Netherlands have produced two complete demolitions of the 2006 World Cup Finalists. They have scored seven goals. Where is your pipe, so I can jam that fact in it?’ Fair point. However, I would argue that for all the pleasure received from the almost perfect football on display in Berne on Monday and Friday night, they didn’t get the blood pumping like the game last night.

Let’s examine it scientifically. If I were to have laid a bet on two games this weekend, namely Netherlands-France and Turkey-Czech Republic, say a tenner a go, what would I have got for my money? In the former fixture, I’d have probably go some very short odds due to the comprehensive victory over Italy. Say I’d spread bet and decided there were going to be more than two goals. I’d have made a decent bit of cash, enjoyed myself immensely and gone about my day.

But the tenner laid out on the Group B decider? If I’d have whacked it on Turkey, I’d have been in the very depths of despair right up until Arda pulled it back to two-one. Then I’d have been cock-a-hoop with Cech’s mistake. I’d have been having palpitations thanks to Nihat’s winner. Then I’d be certified brain dead when Tuncay was forced into the Turkey net. I’d have made loads of wonga on any variation of that outcome and I would always remember it.

But even without a bet, BAD FOOTBALL still made my weekend. This last three days has seen some dodgy goalkeeping errors, like Coupet for Holland’s third and fourth, like Casillas for Ibrahimovic’s equaliser, like Cech’s slip of the hand that will haunt him forever, because he looked like he was trying to do shadow puppets instead of catching the ball.

From the blatant misses to the defensive lapses to the dodgy fouls to the red cards, BAD FOOTBALL is always more memorable than good. It lasts longer, because it’s indelible to somebody. England fans bang on about 5-1 in Munich, but I can’t remember what most of the goals looked like. But I remember Shilton was way too far off his line in Turin. I remember Argentina’s equaliser in Saint-Etienne came from a clever free-kick that Tony Adams could never see happening in his wildest dreams. I remember Beckham should have just kicked the ball for a throw instead of passing it in the 2002 quarter-final against Brazil.

Don’t get me wrong here, there’s a difference between BAD FOOTBALL and ‘bad football.’ I’m not justifying excessive defensiveness or dodgy tackles. But for no reason, when teams are under intense pressure, they lose their concentration and the mistakes add up to excitement. And the aesthetically pleasing aspect of football, like the Van Basten volley or the Gazza chip, has no place in BAD FOOTBALL. Only adrenalin, tears, mud, rain and sweat. It makes you feel closer to the action than nothing else like it, because we’ve all played it. It brings good footballers down to the level of, well, us. Holland against France, that was football from the Gods. Turkey against Czech Republic, that was football from the park down the road.

Of course there are wonderful football moments from my own team that I will always remember, like derby victories (5-1, anyone?) and penalty shoot-outs, and they make me feel good even now. But it’s the tragic moments, the football equivalent of Willem Defoe running under the helicopter in Platoon, that stay with me.

Maybe it’s because I’m English. Maybe it’s because I’m a Villa fan. Maybe I just expect dodgy football more than timeless grace. BAD FOOTBALL is mentally and sometimes physically exhausting, and if the teams that qualified are all susceptible to BAD FOOTBALL, what does that say about my country’s team? But I would argue that while Holland, Portugal, Croatia and Spain play overwhelmingly attractive football, sometimes we need to see anger, fire, pratfalls and the tactics ripped up to remind us there are cheap and dirty thrills to be had even in the Mansions of the Gods.

Chris Stanley