Not a good way to wind down after Euro ‘08

In serious news for just a moment, it appears that Turkey has more to grieve than their last-minute defeat to Germany in last month’s European Championships. Over the weekend, the head of the Turkish Football Federation (TFF), Hasan Dogan, died of a heart attack.

While eating dinner with national coach Fatih Terim.

Dogan took the job in February and was in charge for their biggest success on the world stage outside of the 3rd place in Korea/Japan ‘02.

Sepp Blatter’s eulogy was, to my amazement, well-written:

“We will remember his vast experience and know-how, his determination to develop the game as well as his unique personality. Being a thorough idealist Hasan Dogan managed to position not only Turkish club football but also the Turkish national team on an international level in only a few months at the helm of the TFF.

We will retain fond memories of an accomplished leader and an extraordinary man whose great human qualities ensured that he left an indelible mark on the game of football, not only in helping to develop football in Turkey but also around the world.”

There’s really no joke here, folks, just the impermanence of life rising up and reminding us of its presence yet again. Terim’s a phenomenal, charismatic leader, but the TFF is going to need something equally headstrong to take the national team and the domestic league further in the future.

With Aragones coming to manage Fenerbahce, they’re looking good at club level, but someone has to fill Dogan’s shoes fast before the national side flounders.

Any takers?

I’d be remiss if I didn’t note that McClaren is sadly unavailable.

Written by Darkvader on July 8th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Death and Lingering Bursitis and Turkey.

In Memoriam: Turkey

To the Turks, everything is “shurla burla”, which means “like this, like that”. You never know what will happen. All foreigners are “ayip”, they’re considered dirty.

This European championsip has been more like a film festival than a football tournament. And though there will be a winner come Sunday– either Spain or Germany will take home the proverbial Palme d’Or– there have daily theatrics in the lead-up, an assortment of small wonders that certainly deserve their own prize. In a just world, where a team is rewarded in proportion to the joy they bring the fans, Turkey would certainly return home as kings. In this one, they will have to settle for UF’s footballing Prix de un Certain Regard, the award for “most innovative and audacious work” of Austria/Switzerland 2008.

Join us after the jump, where we will go on to praise, then bury Turkey.

Turkey did not belong on the field with the Germans on Wednesday night in Basel. They had no business battling back (or so we’ve been told and read in the papers) from a 2-1 deficit in the 86th minute. Certainly, Terim’s men should have never had the opportunity to outplay Germany in the first semifinal match of the European Championship. No, they should have been eliminated long ago.

***

The first brush with death came in their second group stage match with hosts Switzerland. It had been an half-drab tournament to that point. No one had come from behind to win. In most of the early group stage games the only scoring had been done by the winning side.

And so it began, in the 57th minute, in front of 42,000+ at St. Jakob Park. Semih Senturk, the 25 year old Fenerbhache forward, dropped a bolt of lightning on the Swiss– an equalizer just 11 minutes after he first crossed the touchline. It was Semih’s first of the tournament and by miles his least memorable. Arda Turan would poke home the winner in stoppage time, and Turkey were on their way. A loss to Portugal firmly in the past, it was time for the Czechs and a win-or-go-home group finale.

***

Like Turkey, Bruckner’s boys had been mollywhopped by the dazzling Portuguese and given a tough go against Switzerland. They entered the crunch match in Geneva knowing that a tie after 90 minutes would mean penalty kicks. But after 71 minutes, it all seemed an afterthought. A cananading header from the big fella Koller and a 62nd minute add-on from Plasil had certainly assured the Czechs’ place. Turkey were disjointed, bordering on listless as Jan Polak smashed a cross into Volkan’s left post. The Czechs were mere inches from 3-0.

That third goal would never come. Four minutes later Turkey found life as Sabri found Altintop (or “gold ball” as Tommy Smyth reminded us every 2 minutes for the entirety of the match) who found Arda Turan at the back post for the Turk’s first roost of the evening. By now the rain was falling in heaps and the pitch had turned into a slip ‘n’ slide party. The Czechs were reserved and content to allow the likes of The Artist formerly Known as Colin Kazim-Richards to launch off speculative satellite balls from 35 yards out. Kazim was never going to hit the target and if he did, there was always the Cat in the Hat there to snip up loose ends. Into the 87th minute, we lurch forward… Terim is enraged at the shot selection and Nihat is imploring his side to (the Turkish equivalent of) “play your game.”

Nihat knew that nothing was over. That on a wet pitch no keeper was infallible– especially mercenary mug like Cech. So when ESPN camera’s cut to the low angle for Altintop’s whipped-in cross, there had to be doubt that any keeper could gobble it up with ease. Nihat knew it, and so he stayed in as the Czech defender began to pull out. His reward was the silver ball at his foot. A sitter he dragged into the OOS to tie it. It was 2-2, and we were headed for penalties. Surely.

Shurla Burla, indeed, as not more than three minutes later Nihat was in again. This time on a clever through ball from Tuncay– the Czech backline frozen, thinking deeply we imagine about goal number two. He faced up with Cech to the keeper’s right and from just inside the box dipped a precise strike under the crossbar. Turkey, if you could believe it, and there is no fucking way a sane man could, had won. They were going to Vienna for quarterfinal date with group winner Croatia.

***

Slaven Bilic’s men, now the “Heroes of Klagenfurt” for their triumph over Germany just days earlier, were easy favorites to surge past an increasingly beleaguered Turkey. Injury and suspension had meant Fatih Terim would not be with his best lineup. That included goalkeeper Volkan, who would miss this match and a possible semi-final because of some tomfoolery against the Czechs.

All but two of the Turkish starting XI were on yellows as the quarterfinal kicked off. In goal was Recter Rustu, the Ottoman Jens Lehmann. Unlike their previous encounter, Turkey were more careful against the clever Croats. They would dominate possession (56% to 44%), but do little with it. We trudged on to extra-time, then a second 15 minutes.

Rustu, who had been as solid as necessary for 120 + 4 minutes, must have thought it was time for PK’s as he went pranced off his line like a child. Skipping after a ball meant for Modric, he watched as the soon-to-be Spurs genius headed up and over his wandering ass and into the path of super-steady Alzonzo Mourning Klasnic. Quoteth ESPN live commentary: “Croatia have won it!” And, certainly, they had.

***

Shurla Burla? You never know what will happen. It’s kind of like the Turkish version of “Der Ball Ist Rund,” only, like, really dark and sinister. Exactly, we imagine, the kind of thoughts and feelings running through Croatia’s dark heart as just seconds later … with the referee taking one last deep breath of Vienna air… Semih Senturk played down a long, downfield prayer and lashed it across his body into the roof of Pletikosa’s net.

As if there ever was a question, Croatia released its collective bowels after all but one of its PK’s, allowing Turkey– Again!!– an unthinkable escape. Three times now, in consecutive matches, each more shocking than the last, Fatih and the fellas had prevailed against all common sense and wisdom. Their reward? Germany

***

As the loyal UFer might know, your humble reporter decided to attempt a little immersion trick for Wednesday’s semi-final. I had hoped to liveblog the game from a nearby Turkish restaurant, but as the wireless revolution has yet to sweep into “Sahara’s” on 2nd Avenue, alternative plans were engaged. The festivities were hosted by ü75, while I hustled for a table at lovely, open-air Sahara’s, intent on doing some correspondent work.

The afternoon began as a Julie Foudy’s face-style mess. The bar was closed down to make room for more tables– more reserved tables. I was escorted, the palest man in the room, they “ayip,” to a wraparound couch planted just precisely behind Sahara’s monster flat screen HDTV. My next mistakes– the first one being my implicit Jewyness– were in ordering a Corona (idiot…) and offering my credit card (Teutonic surname stenciled in) to begin a tab. There was only one way out and so I flagged down the waiter and said the magic words.

“Doner Kebab… the ENTREE.”

From here on out things were different. Within a minute the game had begun and I was sharing a table with a very Turkish man who knew very little English. His only words to me or anyone in the place were “In to Semih.” Sage.

With UEFA’s new policy of clearing the yellow card tally only after the quarterfinal, Turkey never had a chance. Volkan, Emre, Turcay, and Turan were all suspended. Nihat, a hero at St. Jakob Park a few days earlier, was out with a thigh injury. He wasn’t alone.

No one in Sahara’s was ready to talk about reasons why not, and if they were, I surely wouldn’t have known a thing about it. The only (loud) English-speaking gentleman was seated a table over from me and I think he was partial to the Germans. I deduced this when he clapped and ran out after the game.

As for the Turkish partisans, they began with tempered glance. Calm. I was focused on the delicious doner kebab. Worth the 14 bucks, really, check it out some time.

Expectations being what they were, Kazim’s rocket off the crossbar in the 13th minute set the place ablaze. The international odor of “Hey, we can beat these fuckers” was released into the room. The idle chatter finished. All were at attention. Entire families, grandmother and all, turned their seats toward the screens.

So it goes, so it goes. A half-volley off the foot of TAFKACKR hit the crossbar again before falling to Ugor Boral (who?!?), who slipped the ball through Lehmann’s legs. Cue Mayhem. And a free beer, another Corona, for the Lad.

“Just shoot on that scum fucker!,” I yelled at no one in particular. My companion nodded. He understood!

It was then, as the free drinks began circulating and the one woman younger than 50, a hostess I believe, started to do some absurd hip-wagging dance (which I’ve since saved to the hard drive), that it occurred to me. Turkey win and they are going to burn this fucker down! And if Turkey lose? They are going to burn this fucker down!

By halftime the mood has soured, but only a bit. Germany equalized through Schweinsteiger minutes after Boral’s goal. It was a goal that is never scored if Turkey has a proper central defense in place. Still, a draw at the half, and the run of play clearly favoring the ‘dogs… there was nothing to complain over.

Cue now the 25-man smoke break.

Cue then the German infiltrator’s explanation of Turkish football: “The Turks you know were allies to the Germans in World War I. And in one famous battle the German general ordered the Ottoman cavalry to await his order on the flanks. ‘We’ll rough them up he told the Turks, then you come in and clean the ground.’ The Turks agreed but when the battle began the horses charged immediately. The Germans were shocked but fought on and won a decided, bloooody victory. After the field was cleared, the German commander approached his Turkish counterpart and asked, ‘Why didn’t you wait for my whistle?’ The Turk came off his horse and explained, simply, ‘There is no pride in waiting, only in winning.’ So attack attack attack! That is Turkish football!”

I’ve paraphrased there. The gentleman offered me a “raki,” a kind of Turkish ouzo, before beginning his story. By the time he’d finished I was enthralled. Perhaps even dribbling at the mouth. The waiter leaned to me and explained that, for my next glass, consider mixing in some water and ice. No one drinks that shit straight. Oops.

The second half was a mess. Better to be forgotten. The international feed was stricken by a bolt of lightning. In Sahara’s, loss of the picture was met with relief, not anger. Who could stand it?? By what I imagined to be the hour mark the first in-house cigarette was lit. Not more than ten minutes later, still without visual evidence, we were informed the Germans had gone up by a Klose header. A Rustu howler, too. I don’t think the point was made clear enough for our crew, as no one screamed or responded in any exacting way.

More black. More Foudy.

It has to be the 80th minute.

“Another Raki! These things are great!”

This Ayip was chilling now. Even as time was running down on Turkey on that blackened screen there was calm. And you know what? Do you fucking know what?!? The screen flashed back on with the image of Semih “in to Semih!” Senturk in his teammates’ arms. The bastard had tied it. Again.

Glass breaking. Man kisses– my head and the top of my right ear too slow to escape. More Raki! They’ve done it again. My tablemate is now pacing, looping around our table. Turning left, like a good Turk!

There was a song now. Screaming. Hummus.

***

I refer you here to my pal ü75’s topline to his liveblog:

Soccer is a game for 22 people that run around, play the ball, and one referee who makes a slew of mistakes, and in the end Germany always wins.

Gary Lineker’s word, of course. And on this night, like so many other, prophetic indeed. The squirrely left back did it.

Turkey were done. They had lost. But tell me, looking back on this tournament 20 years hence, what will it be that you tell the young folk about?

Joachim Low’s sweat stains? Ok, maybe.

Philip Lahm? No, sir.

What you’ll tell them about is Turkey and their holy trinity of football miracles. About Fatih Terim and how much of dirty pimp-ass managerial job he did. And Rustu in the shootout against Croatia. And Semih!

In to Semih!

Written by Darkvader on June 27th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Euro 2008 and Euro Eulogies and The Likely Lad and Turkey and adventures in journalism.

Euro 2008 Semi-final: Germany 3-2 Turkey

I don’t know what it is, but this tournament keeps throwing up dramatic results. Once again Turkey were involved in a game featuring a stunning late victory — although this time they were on the wrong end of the scoreline. It’s just too bad we couldn’t see the whole thing, thanks to the broadcasting problems from Vienna.

Turkey were massive underdogs coming into this game, seeing as they had so many players either injured or suspended — or both — whereas Germany were able to field the same lineup that had disposed of Portugal so emphatically. But, maybe because their backs were against the wall, Turkey produced an excellent performance, with Germany struggling to match them. Both teams were playing five men across midfield, but Germany were giving up possession too easily, while Turkey were spreading the play well and threatening on both wings.

And the first goal came from one their two wingers, Colin “Kazim Kazim” Kazim-Richards smashing a shot off the crossbar in the 23rd minute, for Ugur Boral to put the rebound in through Jens Lehmann’s legs. Turkey were dominating the play, but they couldn’t hold their lead for very long. Germany equalized three minutes later with virtually their first chance of the game, Lukas Podolski breaking down the left and crossing to Bastian Schweinsteiger, who flicked the ball across the keeper and into the net.

That was probably Germany’s best move of the game, too; despite losing their one-goal advantage, Turkey were still the better team as the match went on. …As far as I could tell, that is, because the feed went out for long stretches of the second half, apparently because of lightning hitting the broadcast centre in Austria.

Turkey must have been hoping that lightning would strike again for them, but instead it was Germany who took the lead in the 78th minute. Miroslav Klose scored with a header into an empty net after Rustu Recber (sporting a fetching double ponytail in a valiant attempt to win the Bad Hair Award two games running) came out to punch Philipp Lahm’s cross and got nowhere near the ball.

But Turkey have been the comeback kings throughout the tournament, and they tied this game up again in the 85th minute. Sabri Sarioglu beat Lahm — having a rare bad game defensively — on the left and squared the ball to the near post, where Semih Senturk was able to beat his marker and flick it in past Lehmann. I think Lehmann was partially at fault on Turkey’s first goal, and I really don’t know what he was doing here — crouched down, basically waiting for the ball to come to him, as if there wasn’t a striker charging at his net.

Lahm redeemed himself, though, with what was ultimately the winning goal just four minutes later. He picked up the ball near midfield, exchanged passes with Thomas Hitzlsperger and burst into the box — helped by the fact that his marker, Kazim, had gone down injured at the beginning of the move — where he finished sweetly with a great strike that sent the keeper the wrong way. Turkey still had three minutes of stoppage time to attempt another improbably comeback, but this time Germany were able to hold on to their lead and run the clock down.

It was an excellent performance by Turkey — in terms of both the quality of their play and the grit they showed — but Germany have an equally effective never-say-die attitude, and they’ll be the team in the finals. They’ll have to do better than this, though, if they want to win it all. Maybe Michael Ballack needs to crack some heads together in the dressing room.

Written by Jen on June 26th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Euro 2008 and Germany and Turkey.

Germany in the finals of Euro 2008, Full highlights of semi-final between Germany and Turkey 3-2

Written by Sudip Kafle and Sujan Kafle on June 25th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Euro 2008 and Germany and Phillips Lahm and Turkey and euro-cup 2008.

Euro 2008 Liveblog: Germany v. Turkey

Soccer is a game for 22 people that run around, play the ball, and one referee who makes a slew of mistakes, and in the end Germany always wins. - Gary Lineker

That’s it, I surrender. There is no way my new-favorite team (Euros only) comes back from this one. Word is that Turkey will have about 14 available players for this one, with one of the subs being the third-choice keeper. There is absolutely no way they play their way past the Germans, is there?

It’s still 11-on-11 on the pitch, no matter what kind of superiority in numbers the German bench has. There is an outside chance, however slight, that Turkey can do this. It is up to me today, UF’s least-disciplined liveblogger, to bring this one to you today. Join me as I dissect what will surely be a 5-0 German win

Lineups:
Germany (4-5-1): Lehmann; Friedrich, Mertesacker, Lahm, Rolfes, Metzelder; Schweinsteiger, Ballack, Hitzlsperger, Podolski; Klose. Screw you, ESPN
Turkey (4-5-1): Rustu, Balta, Gokhan Zan, Sabri, Boral; Topal, Aurelio, Altintop, Kazim, Akman; Senturk.

So, Podolski starts up top, and presumably Gomez is banished to the Black Forest. While you are waiting for the match to start, go check out some Germany highlights in Lego form Here and Here.

note: The Likely Lad, who had hoped to live blog this game from a Turkish restaurant, will still be at said restaurant. He’ll be sending us updates on his fancy phone, some of which we will pass on to you.

note mark II: For those who need your weekly Good, Bad, WTF fix, that will be going up at 6.00. Just hold out, it’s worth it.

-10 .00 ESPN is on. Foudy is foudying it up. Schweinsteiger is Art Alexakis, to continue with my “Looks like a guy who got played on MTV in the ’90s” analogies.

-7.00 It looks like The Likely Lad is not one you should rob. He just confessed to living in NYC without a Blackberry.

-4.00 Get ready for the anthems. Will Kazim Kazim sing?

-3.00 I’ll admit, I’m openly rooting for a Lehmann mistake or two to send Turkey through. Can they naturalize David Healy for this match?

That sucks, Chad. But welcome anyway. I’ll try to be faster than ESPN 360.

-1.00 Uh oh, Lehmann looks short in this lineup. You can’t teach height, as we found out from Koller in my last liveblog.

Rustu!, Ballack! Speak English, fuckers!

0.00 Kick Off! Let’s go! Turkey actually have 7 subs on the bench. We’ll see if more than two get off of it.

Written by Darkvader on June 25th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Euro 2008 and Germany and Liveblogs and Turkey and ü75.

Question of the day

Celebration! Sad none of us are playing today

Turkey arrived at Euro 2008 as longshots to escape the group stage. They got whacked by Ronnie and the Dancing Poofters in their first outing, then went down a goal in the first half of their second match, against host Switzerland. But late goals from Semih and Arda Turan earned them their first win and well, thus began the madness.

Here then is the question. Just how improbable is a Turkey win against the Hun this afternoon? Sport is full of surprises–the ‘69 Mets, Joe Namath’s Jets, Villanova in ‘85, Fresno State baseball and NY Giants football this year– but this is surely a doner rack too far.

So again: Where would a Turkish triumph in Basel today rank on the list of modern sporting upsets?

Have away.

More reasons why Terim’s boys have absolutely no chance of winning after the jump…

In short:

-Coach Fatih Terim has only 12 outfield players available for today’s game. There’ve been whispers (likely untrue) about his using the third-string keeper in the midfield.

-Germany are really good. And they are Germany (lest we forget.)

-Nihat (tying and winning goals against the Czechs) is done for the tournament with a muscle inury. Servet Cetin and skipper Emre Belozoglu are out today, as is Tumer Metin (though the coach says he could potentially come on as a sub for “30 minutes at most.”)

-Tuncay of Middlesbrough, arguably their best all-around player in the tournament, the guy who strapped on the keeper gear when Volkan got booted from the group finale, is out with accumulated yellow cards. Arda Turan, Volkan and Emre Asik also will miss out on suspensions.

-They’ll be depending on the likes of The Artist Formerly Known as Colin Kazim-Richards to (help) fuel their attack. And if you saw the look on Nihat’s face as Kazim shanked two long-range prayers as time ran down against the Czechs, you know this is a significant problem.

-Then there’s backup keeper Recber Rustu. Like his counterpart today, Recter is prone to the occasional howler. That may fly against Croatia. But this ain’t Croatia. Turkey need to play “the perfect game.”

So the odds are against them. No doubt. Just as they were in each of the previous three games. And in each match they’ve upped their resolve… and pulled a larger rabbit out of their collective tarpus.

Today, that rabbit might look more like a bear.

Written by Darkvader on June 25th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Euro 2008 and Pontification and The Likely Lad and Turkey.

Watch Germany vs Turkey in Euro 2008 semi-finals live

Written by Sudip Kafle and Sujan Kafle on June 24th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Euro 2008 and Germany and Turkey and euro-cup 2008.

Highlights of Turkey Vs Croatia in Euro 2008 quarter finals

Written by Sudip Kafle and Sujan Kafle on June 21st, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Croatia and Euro 2008 and Turkey and euro-cup 2008.

Euro Trash Day 14: Wow. Just… Wow.

Holy shit.

Unreal.

Oh my god.

You’re kidding me.

You’re fucking kidding me.

We leave any out?

Probably. What happened today wasn’t unreal. It was completely real. Unexpected, yes—I think Tommy Smyth had even said something like, “Well Turkey are out”—but it totally happened.

And here’s the thing. It was actually kind of boring. For 90 minutes, Croatia had, what, two good chances (and you just knew they would pay for missing that sitter that Olic sailed off off the crossbar at about the 18th) that weren’t the result of a massive goaltending blunder.

For long stretches of the second half—and we’re talking like Mesozoic long—Turkey didn’t even look like they were interested in scoring. “Hey, one point for the draw. We’ll take it.”

Uh, doesn’t work that way anymore in the knock-out stages, kids.

So when Turkey’s back-up keeper, Rustu, came off his line in the 120th minute for the sole purpose of what looked to be giving Luka Modric the chance to put the ball on Ivan Klasnic’s head, Trukey were, ahem, cooked.

And for the second time. Remember how they were eliminated by the Czech Republic in the last game of the group stage?

That’s why what happened next was so unbelievable. There shouldn’t have even been enough time for it to happen (seriously, where did 74 seconds of stoppage time come from?). But a greedy ball across midfield to a couple of players who were way offside for Croatia gave Turkey the ball and Rustu did what he could, specifically: kick it long and pray.

A head, a bounce, and a Semih Senturk strike later Rustu, and all of Turkey owe one to the supreme being of their choice.

When it went to PK’s did anyone think Turkey wouldn’t win? Okay, after Modric missed his first kick did those people still not think Turkey would win? (But hey, Spurs, you’ve got a young player who is already a seasoned choker, nice going).

And if you just saw the highlights, it wouldn’t make for a compelling watch. A couple of goals. Two missed PK’s and a save. I’m certain of this because it’s what SportsCenter led with on the heels of the surreal turned real. Twenty seconds, there’s your recap. Now here’s some news on Pac-Man Jones. Awesome, huh?

No.

That’s the thing about futbol, you have to endure the whole thing for the parts of it to make sense and to matter. You can’t just give away the ending. Only after the build-up in the narrative do you care that the chick in The Crying Game is a dude, or that Bruce Willis himself is dead.

Oops. Spoiler alerts. Sorry. Rosebud is also the sled, by the way.

Okay, so long parts of the match were boring, but you can’t take a shortcut to get the drama. Sorry, you just can’t.

Anyway, Turkey are bulletproof. Yeah, they’re down about five players to cards, a couplathree more to injury, so they look dead before they even take the field against die Germans. But, as noted, Turkey have already been eliminated twice and, yet, here they are, one win from a spot in the finals.

I’m guessing they are going to warm up for the semi with soccer balls made of kryptonite.

Written by Darkvader on June 20th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Croatia and Euro 2008 and Euro Trash and I have a man crush on Slaven Bilic and Precious Roy and Turkey.

Euro 2008 Liveblog: Croatia v. Turkey

Well, we are here.

Made it in one piece after the abbreviated workday (publishing is kind like that), and now we’re roosting on the corner of the bar, prepping for today.

This liveblogging is hard work, especially when you’re trying to drink at the same time. Proceedings are fairly sedate for the time being, being the Upper West Side, but it will degenerate come kick-off, of that I am certain.

To reiterate, we’re at George Keeley’s, on Amsterdam Avenue between 83rd and 84th. If you’re out and about, please come and join us. Projection screen and a Golden Tee in front of us, and a fully-stocked bar and amiable bartender behind us.

These two teams have an arseload of history between them. Briefly speaking, they hate each other.

Let’s get cracking, shall we?

Starting XIs
—
CROATIA
01 Pletikosa
05 Corluka
04 Kovac
03 Simunic
22 Pranjic
11 Srna
14 Modric
10 Kovac
07 Rakitic
19 Kranjcar
18 Olic

—
TURKEY
01 Rustu
22 Altintop
04 Zan
15 Asik
03 Balta
06 Topal
20 Sarioglu
17 Sanli
14 Turan
18 Kazim-Richards
08 Nihat

—
2.37: Excitement’s building in the stands, with the requisite stupid hats and ridiculous face paints. Slaven Bilic was pacing anxiously a minute ago; is this the same useless cunt who spent 4 miserable seasons at West Ham and Everton? He’s become quite the managerial god.

2.39: Bigus is on his third pint, and equally anxious as the bar’s run out of his favourite beer, Victory Pilsner. He is sticking to his promise of being plastered by 3pm as he coolly cruises through his another full glass of “Doggy Style”.

2.40: [He's also anxious because he foolishly picked the Croats to win the whole tournament.] Seriously, he picked a Croatia v. Italy final. Could there be anything worse?

2.44: No-one knew the words to the Turkish national anthem, and now it’s Croatia’s turn. Bigus notes that the cameraman had to pan down to catch the speechless pint-sized midfielder Luka Modric, who will fit in well at Spurs: he’s short and has nothing worthwhile to say.

Kickoff is approaching!

We’re also going to switch the times for simplicity’s sake.

The stadium staff appear to have changed the colour of the running track to blue, giving the impression of a moat surrounding the pitch. This is presumably to ward off the advancing Turk hordes. It might be the smartest thing they do this entire tournament. My pick: Turkey’s winning this one….2-1.

1 min: Turkey starts quickly. They are going for the throat early, but both teams are rushing to assert their tempo.

The bar is also filling up slowly but surely. COME ON DOWN, FOLKS! Beer 2 and I’m gathering steam.

Also, NY Kid: they just ran out of this one beer. Bigus practically fucking lives here. [Is that what married life is really like?]

3 min: Modric takes a shot that’s deflected wide. Fatih Terin is yelling at his players.

Bilic looks like a bible salesman in his rather dour outfit choice.

4 min: A good shot by Altintop, only just wide. Croatia surge forward down the left, and the low cross into the 6-yard-box is scrambled away under pressure. Srna’s corner amounts to fuck all.

7 min:End-to-end stuff so far. Which makes me happy, because in my Mannix-esque way of thinking, a 0-0 that I hadn’t seen coming would be a fucking travesty. I mean, c’mon guys, this sport is fucking terrible when no-one scores a goal, right? Right?

11 min: We’re having some technical difficulties [read: Keeley's internet connection is pants], but we’re persevering. The beer is definitely helping. Kovac “fouls” Tuncay on the edge of the box, which was disgraceful in Bigus’ eyes. Kovac got the ball cleanly, but the ref blew the whistle anyway. Too quick on the draw. Free Kick was taken by Zan which hits Kovac of all people square in the chest. Kovac goes down like a cheap slut.

15 min: Turkey is definitely forcing the issue a lot more, having the lion’s share of possession and spending more time in Croatia’s half, but their attacks are quite meaningless. Very Michael Moore-esque in that regard.

The Turks are struggling to get the ball up to Nihat, and I for one am so fed up with the 4-5-1 formation that I want to drink the piss of Avram Grant’s wife to wash the sour taste out of my mouth.

16 min: Someone comes through the bar trying to sell wooden carvings of various animals. I consider buying the hippopotamus figurine for Bigus Dickus. Then, sense returns and I turn the man away.

Tommy Smyth makes another asinine comment, saying that Croatia is taking longer to settle than they have in previous games. No-one thinks to point out to him that it’s only been 18 minutes.

19 min: CROATIA GONE WILD…. almost. Modric takes the throughball down the right, squirting another dangerous low cross along the edge of the 6-yard box. Olic blazes the pass off the underside of the crossbar, and some idiot misses the rebound header with Rustu Recber beaten all ends up.

Olic and Balta are having quite the tussle down the right so far.

Bigus points out that you have to score those. I nod in agreement. Modric pounds the floor in frustration like a small toddler. Perhaps him and the other North London crybaby, William Gallas, should get together and have coffee sometime.

Bigus is well-equipped to make the toddler comparison as he has one of his own. It’s worth pointing out that Modric and Bigus’ son, Luke, are about the same height and weight.

24 mins: A great match so far. Wide open football from both sides, end-to-end stuff. Cracking to watch. Speaking of cracking, Kranjcar gave us his best Kimbo Slice impression by laying a boot into an unfortunate Turk’s face.

Pranjcic is having a field day down the left flank so far. 5 crosses in the last couple of minutes. The Croats are threatening…. goal soon for them, we reckon.

Beer #4.

26 mins: To address all this drunk/passed out talk, I assure you, we’re trying our best. Bigus talks at a million words per minute, the beer is catching up to us, and the internet connection is shaky at best. Recipe for disaster!

Also, all you grammar/comprehension ninnies…. fuck off. I’m not on the clock anymore, you bastards!

Bigus thinks I type like old people fuck…. well, his wife told me he fucks like old people fuck. Marital bliss does not reside in the Dickus household, it appears. So sad.

28 min: The bar is filling rapidly, just like my bladder. So many beers! The Turkish right-back needs defending lessons…. people not to ask: Sergio Ramos or the imminent Chelsea FC scapegoat Boswinga.

31 min: Bigus is pleased of this joke: “Arda needs to try ‘arder. Getting shrugged off the ball very easily.”

I remain unimpressed.

Seriously though, this is a wonder to watch. Memo to SI editors (of course I’m not letting this go): send Chris Mannix to Eastern Europe to watch the Turks play. Perhaps he’ll end up in that Hostel place they showed in movies.

32 min: Penfold lookalike Tommy Smyth is pleasuring us with his retarded observations. Bigus is about to smash the television.

Seriously though…. ESPN needs to try harder if they’re going to make an honest run at EPL coverage. Tommy Smyth deserves to be homeless.

34 min: Great play from Turkey. Now they’re putting all the pressure down the flanks.

No real chances to speak of in the last 10, but at least both teams are showing their cards. Attack, attack, attack. It’s glorious.

Also, the 4-5-1 still sucks, regardless if all the cool kids are doing it.

Is anyone still out there?

38 min: It’s all Turkey for the moment. Is this scripted? Have the two teams agreed to take 10 minute shifts in attack?

40 min: Cracking shot by Topal leaves Pletikosa at full stretch, but the ball drifts narrowly wide.

41 min: Bigus’ 2-line summary of the half: “End-to-end stuff, the Turks lack the passing in the final third, and Croatia look very dangerous down the left, where Pranjic has been raping Altintop blind.”

44 min: Discussions about the personal lives of various US Soccer luminaries about. We invited Sunil Gulati to the Kinsale with us [well, I didn't, but I have a friend who's got a connection], but predictably he turned us down. It makes sense, right? US Soccer’s chief has better things to do? Maybe we smell bad.

45 min + 1: Wolf-whistles echo in the night air as we’re winding down to halftime. Lots of back-and-forth, but only that one meaningful chance to reflect on. Olic should have buried that. You’re a striker, you’re six yards out, and you scuff the ball onto the crossbar.

Will that end up being a costly miss?

Bigus still picks the Turks “to get basted”.

I was hoping his jokes would improve as he got more drunk.

Bigus finally read my comment about his “fucking” “ability”, and would like the world, yes, the world, to know that his granddad was a sexual deviant.

This has nothing to do with the match, but he doesn’t care!

HALF TIME: Let’s address some comments, shall we? To “rape somebody blind”… I think the idea is that you fuck them so hard that they lose their eyesight, although if you google the term “rape blind”, you get a disturbingly large number of links to news stories about blind people being raped. It’s enough to make me want to stop liveblogging. But I digress. Julie Foudy is in the studio, and I wish I was deaf.

50 min: Thanks to the magic of pre-planning, my laptop battery is going to die in 20 minutes. I blame Bigus.

Croatia come agonizing close to a goal… nice sweeping move forward leads to not one, but two clearances off the goal-line. The match is running past at breakneck speed….Croatia will score soon. We are convinced of this.

Arda gets a yellow for a hipcheck on Sidney Crosby (we have no fucking idea who he knocked down. The volume on the telly is low, and the TV is blurry. Plus some Croat-loving tosser is yelling loudly.

54 min: Corluka is having a tidy game at the back for Croatia. More possession for Modric and co. in midfield as they start to exert the pressure.

57 min: Kranjcar is put through on goal via a neat pass, and his weak shot is smothered easily by Rustu Recber.

Bigus is unimpressed at Niko’s finish, but he’s not surprised: after all, Kranjcar does play for Portsmouth. He opines further that it’s due to him being surrounded by se(a)man for nine months of the year!

Brilliant!

60 min: The talk of the table has been concerned with guessing whether a female patron’s chest is real or enhanced. Also, we are trying to figure out why Colin Kazim-Richards also goes by Kazim-Kazim. Nobody has a fucking clue. Nobody knows, nobody knows…

Also, re: Julie Foudy…. would you fuck her? Is she “doable”?

[Beer keeps landing in front of us. It is my pre-constructed excuse for the decline in quality of this liveblog. It gets worse with every second.]

Bigus said he’s rather do me. Something about me having nicer hair [I sport a shaven head].

I am panicked by this revelation.

62 min: Anyone still here?

63 min: Another reason for the lack of updates is that there isn’t much going on in the second half. The pace has slowed, which is unsurprising considering the electricity of the first 45.

Dare we continue? Bigus just spilled beer on his notebook. He is saddened by this development.

66 min: From the mastermind of Bigus: Croatia are in control now, having cut down on the room and width Turkey were enjoying on the flanks. This sounds almost sensible, to our collective surprise.

He is adamant that Croatia will score in the next 10 minutes. Considering that he’s been wrong about everything else to this point, I will reserve judgment.

70 min: Bigus has amended his idea of Croatia scoring in the next 10 minutes. He is confident of extra time.

Immediately upon typing this, Croatia surge forward with a gorgeous 1-2 that results in a scuffed shot miles over the cross bar. He is now convinced again that Croatia are very close to scoring.

73 min:Croatia completely in control. It’s been almost 20 minutes since Turkey got into the final third, and they’re finding themselves stymied in midfield.

We had a slight hiccup there as my battery died, but we found a power outlet on the ceiling after removing the plug of one of the neon beer signs. I am now blogging almost standing up.

74 min: Corner to Croatia. Lots of pushing and shoving in the box. The ref is not having it. Srna swings it in low and it amounts to nothing. To credit the ref, he’s doing well thus far by being largely anonymous.

Another Croat corner whipped in low towards the edge of the 6-yard box, and it’s easily cleared.

77 min: ACTION! SWEET ACTION! A sub for Turkey… Topal off, Santurk on. Fatih has finally realized that another striking option is needed, so off comes one of the inept midfielders in lieu of another forward.

Bigus points out that Turkey are not even getting close to the final third, so another striker seems futile unless he’s got some Kuyt-esque workrate in him.

To RK5: we’re trying our best, but you can only work with what you’ve got, which in this case is a muted 2nd half and a lot of free pints.

79 min: Foul on the goalie Recber after another shit corner from Srna. Likely Lad: that was funny. Where is that humor in your liveblog efforts?

Recber needs a haircut.

82 min: The Turkish contingent in the stands are trying their hardest to get some life into their side, who have looked quite bland in the second half. Both teams are running out of steam, and Bigus is amazed that Croatia haven’t scored a goal yet.

Great, mazy run from Croat sub Petric leads to a free kick at the top of the box.

A huddle has formed around the ball, but it clears and Srna looks like he’s taking it.

83 min: Cracking free kick by Srna yields a diving save by Recber at full-stretch. How the fuck did he get on that? The ball was looping and swerving sharp for the top right corner, but Recber keeps his team in it. Magic save. By our count, that’s only the fourth or fifth save Recber’s had to make…. lots of possession but few clear-cut chances.

85 min: And now… a picture.

Extra time is looming as a Turkish free kick 40 yards out amounts to, yep, you’ve guessed it, nothing.

Credit the Turks for their resiliency, and seriously, credit to you, the commenters and visitors, who’ve been making our hard work worth something. Euro ‘08 has been a blast so far, and we’re all eternally grateful for the insight, observations, and lewd notes posted in all these liveblogs.

Please, keep them coming!

88 min: The Croat contingent in the bar is getting rowdy as the side surges forward once again, the sweeping move cut short by another cynical tackle. Corner for Croatia, taken again low and hard by Srna. Note to Bilic: have someone else take the corners. Srna’s whipping them in low right into the first Turkish defender. Nothing lofted in whatsoever.

Another dangerous cross from the right forces a great reaction save from Recber. Now the pace is picking up again as they forage in search of an injury-time winner.

90 min + 1: Wolf-whistles again from the crowd as Srna has another free kick 30 yards out and Recber keeps a grip on it. He’s keeping Turkey in this one. Not much bite on the free kick this time around, but he does what he’s there to do. Which is more than can be said for Petr Cech.

90 min + 3: With surely the last kick of the injury time, Olic has a sharp shot that fizzes just over the bar. He was offside, but who gives a shit?

FULL TIME: Turkey 0, Croatia 0

We’re off for another swift round of drinks and a game of darts.

Back in 10.

EXTRAS ARE UNDER WAY.

91 min: The match slowly rumbles back to life, and it appears that several of the Croatian team have used that brief breather to sort their hair out. Simunic’s hairstyle looks especially well put together. The side part is quite striking.

93 min: Despite my fondness for the Turks, they’re looking a lot like this year’s Greece. At least in this game…. lots of time spent defending and passing the ball around without much purpose. It’s enough to drive a man to dri— oh wait, we already are.

Kiss the ring!

94 min: Turkey’s getting a bit more possession and starting to find some room to work the ball wide, but the Croatians are very good at closing them down quickly. Turkey are like the mole to Croatia’s whacking at this point.

95 min: Pletikosa is forced into his first save for quite a while, getting down low to keep out the hard near post shot.

Bilic has loosened his tie and looks rather rattled…. his calm bible salesman persona is out the window. He now looks and acts like a man who’s renounced God and started hitting the whiskey.

97 min: There really is no place like NYC for attractive women with big wobbly butts. Seriously. We just spotted three in the space of a minute, jiggling down the street. Wobble wobble indeed!

The great Croat chance-squanderer Olic is off, replaced by some other c*nt with a five o’clock shadow. It’s Klasnic’s turn to be wasteful in front of goal.

Still, the beers keep arriving at our table. Anyone in New York: Amsterdam Avenue between 83rd and 84th. The sun is shining, the beer is flowing…. come on down!

100 min: Oh shit, a throw-in. u75: yes, the electricity is free, and the procession of beautiful women who just clocked off work is a joy to behold.

In bar news: some idiot in a brown t-shirt just pissed off his girlfriend, and he’s trying the “let me hug you and make it all better” routine. She is unimpressed and keeps shrugging him off. He keeps trying to hug her, and she’s visibly upset. He stroked her hair and she was two seconds shy of punching him in the balls. She’s now sulking on a stool while he continues to drink, alone at the table they once shared. THIS IS THE BEST DRAMA EVER.

He is wasting more chances to make up than Olic missed shots on the edge of the 6-yard box.

Bigus notes that he still has a chance, as she hasn’t left. She’s busy pouting. We would care more, except Bigus notes she looks like a Clanger.

At this point, blogging the match is secondary to blogging their argument. We will let you know if he managed to get back in her good books.

He’s now stormed off to the bathroom, and she’s about to leave. Chivalry is well and truly dead.

104 min: Turkey come close with a chance, but both teams are definitely playing for penalties. Neither side is really making any clear-cut opportunities. Turkey is enjoying the dregs of possession heading into the whistle.

In relationship news: both brown t-shirt guy and Clanger are sitting in silence at their table. I think they’re getting a divorce.

Bigus notes if he were in brown t-shirt guy’s position, he’d have gotten a divorce a long time ago, as she looks like a skinny girl chewing on a bag of wrenches.

BREAK Turkey 0, Croatia 0. Someone just showed up with an awesome dog! This is high fucking drama!

I am also silently hoping we get to liveblog our first penalty shoot-out of the competition.

Brown t-shirt guy and Clanger are slowly beginning to talk again. Who said world peace isn’t possible?

112 min: Klasnic, Olic, computer hitch, son-of-a-bitch. Some tech difficulties there, but we’re back. Both teams are pushing wherever they can to try and squeak out a winner, but this has PKs written all over it. Modric made a neat run down the right, but his selfishness dissolved the opportunity.

Clanger and brown t-shirt guy just left……. shame, that. On the other hand, the dog is still here, and it’s fucking awesome. [Sorry Q, no picture for you!]

The Croats are surging forward with desperation as the Turks are comfortable heading for penalties.

Man, I wish I had that dog as a pet. It’s like a cross between a golden retriever and a lab? I have no clue.

116 min: It’s not as nice as Bigus’ dog Bailey, I’ve been instructed at gunpoint to tell you.

Hey look, a scoring chance! Turkey prepare for a free-kick out on the right side.

117 min: Of course they sky it high over the bar instead of providing a threatening cross. It’s been that sort of game really: all the action in the middle of the park, but both teams faltering in the box, much like Likely Lad’s sad attempt at a sex life.

An ambulance just sped by. Bigus reckons brown t-shirt is laid up on a stretcher in the back suffering from a stab wound.

119 min: Penalties looming. Both goalies are taking their time with the goal kicks, and I wish Chris Mannix were here.

119 min: THE BAND IS ON THE FIELD, THE BAND IS ON THE FIELD! Unfuckingbelievable. Heartbreak for the plucky Turks…a quick shot of Vienna shows a fire in the Croat fan section.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL… cross in from the right, and finally a Croat gets on the end of it. Number 17, Klasnic, the sub nods it into at the near post. Bilic goes fucking apeshit on the sideline like it’s a Managers Gone Wild video shoot.

No PKs for us.

Croatia 1, Turkey 0.

120 min + 2: Um…. wow. GOOOOOOOOOOOOL….. Long, speculative ball into the Croat penalty area, and a great volley from Semih on the bounce finds the back of Pletikosa’s net. Unbelievable. The bar just erupted… the Croat is crying while the sizable throng of Turk sympathizers get loud and fucking rowdy. Amazing. Bilic yells in the face of the fourth official, adamant that there was a foul, but the goal stands with the last kick of the match. Unbelievable. Fuck you, Mannix, you douche. This is what it’s all about.

Croatia 1, Turkey 1.

PKs just around the corner. I cannot believe what just happened. Two goals in 80 seconds to keep the sides deadlocked. Here we go.

BEFORE PKs: You have to fancy the blessed Turks on this one. Bilic still hasn’t calmed down. Modric steps up for the first PK for Croatia. They shoot first.

PENALTIES
—-
MISS! Modric puts it wide right. Recber didn’t even need to dive. What a fuck-up for the new Spurs wunderkind. Cro 0-0 Tur

GOAL! Arda makes no mistake. Emphatic. Cro 0-1 Tur

GOAL! Srna makes it. Where was this power on those corner kicks? Cro 1-1 Tur

GOAL! Cool as you like. Equalizer hero Semih blasts it low to the left. Cro 1-2 Tur

MISS! Rakitic puts it wide left. Recber is jubilant. Bilic is stunned. Two huge misses.Cro 1-2 Tur

GOAL! Simple. Hamit Altintop slots it home, low to the left beyond Pletikosa. Cro 1-3 Tur

SAVE! Recber gets a hand to it, low to his left, and Petric is distraught. TURKEY THROUGH ON PENALTIES, 3-1. Amazing finish. The Turks celebrate while Bilic, the bible salesman, tries valiantly to console Kovac and co. Bigus is upset, as his fashionable Croatia for the title pick is ruined. Turkey head on to meet ze Germans in the next round. High fucking drama. Suck a dick, Mannix. You’d have loves this one.

Srna is devastated… three trainers and Bilic still can’t stop the tears. What a finish. Recber is getting laid many times tonight, you can bank on that. Altintop and Fatih are on top off the world. Amazing finish.

Of course, ESPN cut away from the celebrations to bring us… Sportscenter. They claim to have an interest in the sport, but really.. no post-match analysis? No trip to the soccer studio? I guess PTI is more important, hence the interruption. Fucking sad. Of course Scott Van Pelt cannot put this into words. To their credit, they do lead with the highlights, but it’s really a bit of a slap in the face. Fuck you, ESPN.

TURKEY GO ON. CROATIA ARE DEAD. LONG LIVE CROATIA.

Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re off to keep drinking. Roll on lads! Another good quarter-final in store tomorrow! Thanks for joining us, thanks for the comments, thank you very much. Free beer awaits!

Written by Darkvader on June 20th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Bigus Dickus and Croatia and Euro 2008 and Lingering Bursitis and Liveblogs and Turkey.