Now that the World Cup has passed, we can properly lay it to rest with a series of wakes: drinks and thoughts on our favorite World Cup teams, players, themes, and moments; the parts of the Cup we will miss the most.
We begin our series with the World Cup itself. Just go ahead and search the hashtag on Twitter: #THISWORLDCUP. What began as exasperation and disbelief morphed into something like reverence and love. What seems like a simple descriptor was really an incredulous gasp every time the Cup served up an expectation-obliterating moment.
And it is perfect for this World Cup. The first goal in the first game was a Brazilian own goal. Fred took a dive. The Netherlands smashed defending champs Spain and Robin van Persie scored (if not the best) the most physics-stupefying goal of the tournament. Colombia kicked off their Group Stage danceathon. Costa Rica, COSTA FUCKING RICA, blew the doors off a Suarez-less Uruguay. Andrea Pirlo dummied Italy past England. Pepe happened and then a whole lot of Thomas Müller happened. Clint Dempsey blasted off after 30 seconds and John Brooks blasted a header home after 85 minutes. And all that in the first 4 days of games.
Mexico and Brazil played the most exciting 0-0 90 minutes in the Cup (sorry, Germany and Argentina, but Memo Ochoa wins this one). Chile smashed defending champs Spain and Tim Cahill scored (if not the best) the most favored-leg defying goal of the tournament. Colombia danced some more. Suarex eliminated England and Costa Rica, COSTA FUCKING RICA, all but eliminated Italy. Lionel Messi bent a goal around the entire Iranian team to salvage a win in the 91st minute. Jermaine Jones mirrored Messi’s goal, but Christiano Ronaldo bent a cross around the entire U.S. back four to salvage a tie in the 95th minute. Algeria scored four goals.
More Colombian dancing, more Suarez player-biting, more Messi scoring, and more American nail-biting closed out the Group Stage that could, with little argument, be the most compelling and exciting fortnight of football in history. Combined with viewer-friendly game times, fantastic crowds, and spectacular coverage, from lead broadcasters ESPN on down to upstart blogs, World Cup 2014 was putting down a marker as the best in history.
It was inevitable that the knockout stages would be more conservative, and pure excitement was replaced by tense drama. Brazil/Chile went to penalties and James Rodriguez scored (if not the best) the most space-time continuum defying goal of the tournament. Rais Mbolhi nearly offed eventual champions Germany by himself. Arjen Robben took a dive (though not on the decisive penalty). Tim Howard nearly held off presumptive dark horse champions Belgium by himself. The weight of Brazil’s World Cup hopes (and Juan Camilo Zúñiga's knee) broke Neymar’s back. And the rest of the quarterfinals were pretty bland. I mean, something called a Tim Krul happened. Remember that?
And then, 7-1. Again, seven to one. In case you missed it, GERMANY SOCRED SEVEN GOALS ON BRAZIL IN A WORLD CUP SEMIFINAL ON BRAZILIAN SOIL. (I keep typing this for my own edification but I still don’t believe it, even in the #THISWORLDCUP context.) Argentina and the Netherlands played the most tactically demanding 0-0 120 minutes in the Cup. So demanding Javier Mascherano tore his anus. And after suffering a head-to-head collision that left him stumbling on the field, that was his second-most horrifying injury that game.
And then the final. If the Cup hadn’t pulled your heart out Kali Ma-style before Germany and Argentina kicked off, maybe go see your cardiologist. Either the team that eviscerated Brazil 7-1 or their biggest sporting rival would win the World Cup in their holiest of soccer temples. Messi against Die Mannschaft; Man vs. Machine. The Germans squeezing Argentina like a vise, then Messi and Ezequiel Lavezzi squirting out to create chances that Gonzalo Higuain, somehow, couldn’t finish. Bastian Schweinsteiger legitimately bleeding and not-so-legitimately rolling around in the grass. And then Andre Schurrle (who replaced scarily-concussed Christof Kramer) drops a deft cross to Mario Gotze (who replaced legendarily goal-scoring Miroslav Klose) and just like that, after four weeks and 113 minutes, the Cup was over.
In the end, we’re just going to miss this World Cup. This one. Not a World Cup - not any World Cup - this particular World Cup. It was special from the jump and consistently delivered. Goals. Drama. Narrative. Dancing. Tears. Blood. Joy. The Copa das Copas. #THISWORLDCUP
