Lisbonic Plague - the Euro 2004 blog

TV Review - Sunday 4th July - Portugal v Greece (BBC)

2004-07-11T05:05:00.000-07:00

Stuck between a church and a stretch of water, Gary's keen to show us that this is more than just a football match, indeed being between "two of the world's great civilisations who have upset the new world order". What sounds, both in terms of the script and the style of recording, like a museum video voiceover runs through the building, exploring and prosthletysing of Greek and Portuguese history. Charisteas' header against France is illustrated by an equation, Archimedes, Homer and Plato are quoted and it's hard to know what the idea behind all of this is. It's not exactly designed to up the anticipation levels after all. Only then do we get what should have been referred to earlier, with clips from the first meeting. "Who said there were too many repeats on the BBC?" Alan, Peter and Ian express surprise that this is the final, although surely nobody's shaking their heads in disbelief that Portugal could have got this far, Ian claiming his prediction Portugal wouldn't win was "just to wind them up" and that he rang a couple of the team earlier. Who, exactly? He gets a ribbing about his predictions of Pauleta being top scorer after "amazing pictures" of the Portuguese team coach, Gary referencing Vasco de Gama again as if he spent the previous day on a crash course, are shown, as is a group of fans on a tractor following some way behind. Ray Stubbs has an enormous pair of industrial headphones on at pitchside telling us the Greek fans are "black and blue from pinching themselves" before, yes, referring to the effect on Olympic building work. Gary reckons "there is one obvious similarity between Portugal and England - they'll both be at home for the final." Oh, come on! It's the final, we don't need a package of England clips! We're all aware of it already! "Twelve nations have been in major finals since England were last there - it says something" Gary informs us, like it matters or anyone now cares. Shut up about the disallowed goal, for fuck's sake! Especially as nobody in Britain now thinks it was a goal, but anyway. "If England had either of these coaches, would they be here?" is perhaps the most leading question Gary has asked or will ever ask, and off goes Alan on a good Sven-slagging spree, the quick, playing off a target man Vassell now apparently being the wrong player to bring on for Rooney all along. Pundits On Portugal is the catch-all title for, well, pundits telling us their favourite moment of the tournament, after the minor contributors had had their say on Focus the previous day. This means Jamie Redknapp sheepishly admitting he'd picked his own cousin's goal against Portugal as his best moment, as well as Lawro going for Ricardo's penalty. He's a one, isn't he? There's always room for film of the pundits reacting to here Lampard's goal against Portugal, Hansen watching a monitor sitting with his feet on the table while everyone else is looking out of the window and jumping around. More England follows, the BBC heeding Everton's request to help keep Wayne Rooney's feet on the ground by showing a great big montage of his runs and shots backed by Billy Bragg's God's Footballer. Back to the game, and discussing Luis Figo Wright floats the idea he was taken off against England "for the reaction that he gave", in other words tearing Holland apart. It's an interesting thought, resting a player for the next game when 1-0 down in the knockout stages. Ian then reminds us Maniche had a reputation all along as "a shoot...a shot, a good shot" and gets away with it, only to weigh in again with "a good shoot... a shot... shot... shotter! A good shotter!" Gary, Alan and Ian don't quite recover. The panel are unanimous in picking Portugal, despite plenty of "oh, if you are..." badinage, before we head to John and Mark. "If anybody involved with the new Wembley is listening, I can assure you that the international broadcasters would like to feel that they'll be put in the kind of position there that we've had the privilege of sitting in here." Always have to find something, don't they? "Pride and patriotism" have apparently brought Portugal this far against Greeks who "growl with intent", a loose train of thought Motson continues with references to "scowling Scolari and ranting, raving Rehhagel". He's trying today, bless him, deciding re Markus Merk that "we won't be referring to the fact he's a dentist from Hamburg or indeed that referees are sometimes referred to as a homer". Some things never change, of course, and a shot of Abramovich casually leaning over a barrier is greeted by "I wonder how many players on the pitch he'd like to sign?" After ruining Motty's big excitable moment in the semi-final the Portuguese TV directors are getting something akin to a kicking, Lawro pointing out of one Ronaldo move "his first touch was brilliant - course, our host director missed it", then eventually some time after a good save "we're watching a very belated replay here", Lawro wondering "was that from last week?" and Motson responding "probably from Euro 2000". More consideration takes place of Ferreira's move, Motty pointing out "there's a transfer market, and then there's Chelsea". He seems non-committal at half time, leaving it to Gary to wonder "the street parties in Portugal are supposed to have started by now". Ian resurrects the "best shotter" business for a Maniche chance before pleading "please, Pauleta, if you can hear me..." "We have sat in here for 45 minutes and listened to Mr Schmeichel whinge about the referee" Gary admits. Even Goal Of The Tournament doesn't escape, Alan ("who picks these goals?" "Well, you!") blaming the editor's "anti-Liverpool" sentiment. There's always time for a cheap laugh at Scolari getting worked up pitchside, Gary suggesting "he needs to get that Subbuteo board out" while Ian reckons "he reminds me of my little boy". What, Shaun? After Wright's made time to make some very odd faces on camera at Peter we're back to, well, whatever this passes for, Motty starting talking about "the poorest period for German football" seven minutes after the restart. But then - "up with the goalkeeper... and he's scored! Charisteas got the touch!" Greece are off, and "it's the older generation who are going to have to pull Portugal round" as "Scolari is scowling now". He's really been working hard on these alliteration, has John, while still making it sound like it's off the top of his head. He's thinking too about what the scowler might do - "at what point does he start thinking about Nuno Gomes? At what point does he start thinking about Postiga?" "He'll think about Nuno Gomes before the other guy" Lawro wisely points out, although why he can't bring himself to say Postiga's name is unknown. He's got tactical awareness, though, when he points out "you watch Rehhagel - he'll make a change". Who's have thought? "Scolari, what can he scheme now? Rehhagel remains resolute." See what we mean? John's liking Greece's play, as they "look as determined and as fresh and as deliberate in their play as they did in the fir... first seconds", while "the Portuguese nation was poised to celebrate - they may have to swallow hard". Wondering whether this is greater than Denmark's 1992 victory Motty states "Greece haven't come off the beach, they've come from nowhere", whatever that's supposed to mean. "There's a foot or a body or something in the way of every shot" as Greece defend resolutely, especially when they realise "they're going to play five minutes of injury time - partly thanks to the intruder!", as Motty harrumphs on the clock striking 90. In case you were wondering, no, we haven't mentioned him, as while it was all anybody could go on about after the game, and there was a certain irony to how a pitch invader got two replays from a director who missed the crucial goal in the home side's semi-final, the bloke turned out to be a twat, and the type who's probably been putting his name through Google ever since, so we're ignoring him. Lawro goes for the obvious line when pondering of Merk "you certainly couldn't accuse him of being a homer, could you?", Motty slapping him down with "I'm sure there'll be a lot of things written about Greek mythology and civilisation if they win this, but we'll stick to the football, we think." Remember that. "What a silly thing to do, Nuno Valente!" Not that the foul matters that much as we hit 94:30 and "all eyes now will be on Markus Merk, the dentist from Hamburg - and he blows! The unbelievable, the unfathomable and the almost impossible has happened!" He's excited, you can tell. "This modern Greek football odyssey will be relived and retold just as their ancient past has its special place in history... it's not Socrates who's the philosopher here, it's Rehhagel." Like he said, he'll stick to the football. Handing back briefly from "one of the most amazing scores and stories in the history of international football" Gary is lost for words - "well, would you believe it?... as it was in the beginning, so it shall be in the end". Alan admits "never in the history of predictions have so many people got it so wrong", while everyone commiserates with the losers picking up their medals, Ian rhetorically questioning "this is a nightmare, isn't it?", Alan agreeing "No good news there". Motty feels the need to mention the podium is "decorated with Euro 2004 colours and motifs", like he expected anything different, but soon enough the winners are "ready for the biggest cheer of their lives". "Greece - yes, Greece - are the European champions in 2004... and they can hardly believe it themselves." "The biggest thing to hit Greece since Demis Roussos" quips Gary, which we hope was his own line. Ian, however, has his own agenda, as ever. "If you see from behind the goal, I don't want to bring it back up like sour grapes and that, but if we could see it from behind, just watch the position that the goalkeeper... are we going to see it from behind? Look where he's got himself, and that's exactly what he done against England, he got himself into a position where he could not challenge for the ball, and the only difference there is that he can't get to it... he's headed it like Sol did." Yes, Ian. Pictures from Athens reveal a substantial number of people at the front, Peter reckoning "they're in shock", Gary rejoining "they're the tourists, Portuguese tourists". Alan picks out an excellent replay, we're pretty sure unshown during the game, of Stelios signalling for the defence not to drop so deep at a free kick, then running back to push one forward to play the last man offside. Everyone agrees this is a great occasion, Peter going for "a fanatstic story for football" while Ian settles for "a fairytale ending", Alan off on his own with "the great thing about it is there's hope for Scotland yet". Gary signs off by hailing "quite possibly the biggest surprise in the competition's history... no-one's going to be working in Athens for a while". Goodnight.

And that's your lot for Lisbonic Plague. If you've enjoyed reading it as much as we've enjoyed compiling it, ~~it must be a terrible strain~~ that's all for the good. It's Up For Grabs Now will from now pick up the slack for the season proper with its traditional mix of sarcasm and forgetting to update regularly. This has been an IUFGN/Armchair Football production, not in association with BenQ.

TV Review - Sunday 4th July - Portugal v Greece (ITV)

2004-07-10T02:59:00.000-07:00

The previous day Gabby had done a very echoey set of links from the dressing rooms at the Stadio del Luz, but they seem to have sorted out the sound for Des' opening links, sitting under the shirts. Nothing can excuse the idea this is Greece's hardest game since "that tough fixture in Troy". The usual dramatic filmic music and fast cutting of action follows before Des tells us that should Portugal win "every city, every village, every town will celebrate... none shall sleep - Nessun Dorma!" Nessun Dorma, like the BBC in 1990, which Des presented, you see? He may not be about to make much of his last live game, but he's not going to forget easily. Bobby, Tel and Ally are in the studio, Robson using his first hand knowledge of Portuguese life to claim "they eat, they sleep, they drink football...they get angry about it, they get very hysteric about it". That Coca-Cola contract comes a step closer. Master tactician Terry claims Otto Rehhagel's strength is that he "makes his changes before the match", while Ally goes through the Greek side in a reasonable fashion, leaving it to Des to say "well done on the pronunciations". Because they all have lots of consonants in, you understand. Ally, of course, plays along, claiming they're "worth 150 points on the Scrabble board", although of course if he played any of them they would be illegal moves. Sir Bobby tells us Luis Figo's fame is "similar to what Beckham was... now", which is an interesting take on time's structures. Des "can't imagine what sort of life he's going to have if he wins this", Bobby getting all sentimental, telling us "it's sad just to see a great player like this just evaporate, disappear from the game". "People do disappear, Bob, it happens" Des pointlessly reminds us, at which only Tel laughs. Matt and Andy are pitchside, Townsend labelling "the penalty shoot out, the greatest laxative known to any footballer out there". Ah, that's why they missed. Meanwhile Dave Beckett's in a fan park, pointlessly claiming there's "not a prawn sandwich down here". Mixed metaphor ahoy. Des exhorts us to keep on for the closing ceremony as "actually, tonight I think it's gonna be good", telling us after the break "Clive Tyldesley goes cultural for a few minutes". "We'll be having your closing ceremony in the bar later" Tyldesley reminds us of the game's real weight for ITV before getting excited about "the delightful Nelly Furtado". Worth noting the BBC team just along the way were letting this all play out behind them. "Only sport can do this, uniting a nation under one flag" Clive hints amid an attempt at interpreting the images after a Coleman/Davies style, including after a poorly miked up Furtado's song reading part of the press notes about her. "Every daytime TV host wears a Portuguese scarf here" he notes, although how this is meant to be different to ITV is unclear. We get a good CommentatorCam shot, and Clive's wearing reading glasses! "One or two of us talked whimsically about England and France making it to the final - well, we had the right idea but the wrong teams". He won't let it go, will he? Instead we have Portugal, a country that has previously given us "some good athletes, a decent hockey team", against Greece, and "just think of the legendary status England has afforded its one and only team" when summing up how these players will be remembered there. It's a memorable feat, you understand. Clive reckons it "doesn't take much to knock Deco over" - are you questioning his professionalism, Mr Tyldesley? He certainly needs questioning, given lines like "if you watched Ronaldo's feet you'd go dizzy and literally fall over", presumably as opposed to metaphorically falling over. But you wouldn't anyway, would you? Clive "gave him (Greece's keeper) a medal of honour before for his courage", which ITV cameras must have missed. Townsend's the co-commentator, praising Scolari as "he's been a proper manager in this competition" - what this is opposed to is not stated. There's many cutaways of the Portuguese prime minister, Clive chiding "they're not supposed to get excited in the royal box", while just underneath he sees "David Letterman and Gene Hackman... Scolari manages like a Hackman character too". Er, if you like. It's not inspiring stuff, Figo off for "a tyre change... he's putting the old Odor-Eaters in" - changing his boot, you see. Seitaridis is impressing as "no-one has run him", Clive making the comparison with Paulo Ferreira possibly just to take the piss out of Chelsea. Miguel's off, "disappearing beneath a cloud of spray" as we reach half time in a contest Tyldesley describes as "absorbing". Yeah, there are other ways of describing it too. At half time Sir Bobby keeps saying "we ha..." before seemingly suggesting "the two on the ball can be the two without the ball", he and Tel appearing to disagree on what tactics Portugal should adopt. As the players come back out Andy sees "no changes - we know Big Phil's not shy when it comes to making a few big ones", which is why you've just told us he's not made any, is it? He's trying, bless him, stating "the most dangerous ball to give away in international football (is) the square ball", when we thought the backpass would be a live contender for that. And then look what happens. "It's in! Goalkeeper lost it, and Charisteas found it, and surprise surprise, it's Greece in the lead!" Oddly Clive doesn't sound overly excited by this, as if he expects it to merely be the consolation. "What is Ricardo doing? Where is he?" asks Andy rhetorically, plurally suggesting he "stay in your goals". Meanwhile Clive appears to exert more passion about Setaridis' yellow card, before another replay leads him to query "doesn't look any nearer to it, does he?" No, Clive, it's a replay. Greece are cocky now, Zagorakis knocking the ball over an onrushing attacker's head, Clive marvelling "he never did that at Filbert Street". Prove it. Fyssas gets booked, but obviously "he's getting married on Friday, he's excited". Mmm. Clive recalls how "they had all their attackers except Eusebio on the pitch by the end against England", despite alluding for most of the night to how the hardly defensive Luis Figo was taken off. Indeed, Andy "so want him to produce a bit of magic tonight, Figo, I really do". Not that he's got long, as Greece become slightly desperate in their clearances and Andy remarks "nine more minutes - now, that is worth running around for". Figo comes "inches from redemption" - well, he doesn't really - but it's not enough. "Greece is the word - it is the word with which the European Championship trophy will be engraved tonight" is Clive's summation, reaching into the most overused cliche of all as if he's not prepared anything better. "They can dream on" he suggests, although surely having, like, just won the thing the dreaming is no longer necessary. A hasty cut to Athens city centre shows lots of flag waving and a man attempting to scale the scaffolding around the big screen while Clive drones on about "new Greek gods" and how they'll "enjoy it as only they can". Theo Zagorakis, he used to play for Leicester, you know. "What drama when you never know the ending" is Des' opinion, and while everyone around was praising Greece's defending he doesn't appear so sure, stating "I felt they were going to give a penalty away at some stage, but it never happened". He then cuts into Tel's train of thought to remind us that the "presentation coming up shortly, incidentally". Clive quotes the chief executive of UEFA praising the tournament as "'it's difficult to find something that's not worked' - well, he clearly hasn't stayed at the same hotel as us". Got to go back tonight, Clive. On a "head shaking night" for Portuguese there's always room for another bloody reference to Olympic stadia getting held up, but conversely "what would you do the day after final defeat in your country?" Mope, generally, and here talk like your team lost 20-0 and how everybody in it should never play football again, but maybe the attitude in Portugal is different. By the way, Clive, have you quite exhausted your run of patronising cliches yet? Clearly not - "many of them had names unfamiliar to most of you at the start of the championship - some of them you may still find difficult... think of how we can recite that 1966 World Cup team almost like we count the alphabet - well, these long and complicated Greek names now will be every bit as much a part of Greek folklore as were the Charltons and Hurst and Moore to us". Hold on, let's see how 2006 goes first. Clive describes Karagoudis as "an interesting character" without elaboration before working out the one remaining angle, this being "a truly Olympian effort". ITV go to adverts before the Greek players have got off the podium, having shown all post-game events until then. Well done, again. Afterwards Sir Bobby seems to talk himself to a standstill, while Des queries why a non-Big Three team can't win the Premiership this season, somewhat overlooking the difference between a six-game tournament and a 38 game league season.
Ally cuts into the celebrations by comparing our honourable winners to "like watching paint dry", the party pooper. Des cuts them off after all of three minutes to revive a catchphrase he failed to get off the ground in the early days of Grandstand and certainly won't at this late stage, namely "it's been our business to do pleasure with you", which he recites as if he's never seen those words before. "Personally, my privilege - I'll see you again some time." And, as the classical music fades in over the fast-cut montage linked by a boy on a beach, Lynam sets slowly in the west. Wonder what's on the other side?

Euro 2004 - our perspective only

2004-07-04T11:07:00.000-07:00

For those of you eagerly waiting for our verdict on the final coverage straight after tonight's game... come back in the next couple of days, when we'll have looked in our usual detail at both sides' live coverage. Before then, from our perspective, what have and haven't we enjoyed about this tournament? Our five highlights of the coverage of Euro 2004:

* BBC INTERACTIVE ANALYSIS CHANNEL : Our big regret is we didn't see more of this, but by what we've heard it appears we've missed some kind of genius in Croft and Claridge's double act (no disrespect to David Oates, but he's more concerned with minor details like commentating on the game). Dead-on tactical analysis, texter abuse and wild tangents alike abounded. Give them a proper stage.
* JON CHAMPION and...
* JIM BEGLIN : Probably the two most likely to make the break to the Beeb if anyone for next season made a great double act, and given what's ahead of them they proved why the third choice team should have been used more all along.
* GARETH SOUTHGATE : Typical. ITV find a pundit who speaks sense and has a proper insight into tactics, and they won't be able to use him next season because he'll be playing. Marks off for the stilted way he read the researcher's scribbled facts over the England team graphics, marks on for showing Townsend up.
* IAN WRIGHT : Leavening the tone, that's what we needed? Previously a man who only talked in blind patriotism terms, possibly for effect, but while his contributions to the Totti spitting debate were rarely in sync with his first hand knowledge we've found ourselves warming to him. Plus we suspect there's a good an anti-Hansen positive spinner on how goals and top strikers come about lying just dormant under the pub everyman persona.

And five lowlights:

* SIR BOBBY ROBSON : starting with loads of ITV, we know. You can read us like a book, can't you? This seemed a bad idea from the moment it was announced, and so it proved as Sir Bobby contributed to decent amounts of bad air by just not talking when Clive left a gap for him, and when he did talk it was in a very one-track way, like how he went on for a good ten minutes about Gary Neville needing to press further forward irrespective of what was happening in the interim. Two live games and one studio appearance? Yeah, worth bringing him out, wasn't it?
* ROBBIE EARLE : See, had it been Robbie Earle's Tactics Truck more people would have noticed how poor he is. This was his apogee, as seemingly kept out of the travelling team to Portugal he was left to state the obvious while the producers tried their hardest to make him out as some sort of tactical genius in London. A word too for the men at the games, as they seemed to be playing to their weaknesses almost deliberately - Andy Townsend saying nothing of further interest, self-indulgent laughter, Des hardly bothered.
* PETER DRURY : It's a good job they've got Champion working for them as, with Guy Mowbray almost sidelined, their commentators have been awful. Tyldesley's open bias and virtually missing the importance of Greece's semi-final goal is one thing, but Drury's plummeting reputation continued its downward curve with a set of too clever-clever one-liners, overzealous screaming and tendency to stick to a line once he's found it to its illogical conclusion. Thank god Thierry Henry had a poor tournament.
* PETER REID : Let's be frank, Reid's best performances for the Beeb in 2002 came when he was either genuinely or seemingly pissed. Kept away from the mini-bar in Portugal he was exposed as someone who could hardly string a sentence or opinion together. We're not among those who say 'ah, what's he to tell us how to play the game when he can't manage?', but managing yourself is quite another thing.
* JAMIE REDKNAPP : Really, why? Redknapp only seems to get BBC work for major tournaments, wherein he imparts nothing that betrays extra knowledge of the game and doesn't help his cause by having the same accent as Andy Townsend. Plus when we saw him once he was wearing shades at dusk, surely the mark of the overexerted.

TV Review - Thursday 1st July - Czech Republic v Greece

2004-07-01T14:27:00.000-07:00

They've got images of the tournament in the opening titles already, we see. "Portugal has gone stark staring bonkers", and tonight we learn whether it'll be accompanied by "dancing in the streets of downtown Athens". Not quite how the famous line works, Des, but close enough. "We could have a stylish game on tonight here, I think" is tempting fate, especially with Tel dubbing Greece "the heartbreakers". "Poborksy's playing better than ever since Euro 96" apparently, which doesn't work with or without a comma. Everyone then goes on about going on about Baros' inability to score at Liverpool, Tel reckoning of his good international scoring record "you don't know who they're playing in those games". Well, look it up then. Tel then questions "why I'm here with you two", completely ignoring a salient question about the age of the two coaches. He might have expanded on this were it not for the big phone-in competition, which by now is just insulting - Eric Cantona a possible 2000 final winning goal scorer? If you like. Des is thinking laterally, and filmic topically, in saying "some of the Greek fans think they're playing the Trojans" upon spotting someone in appropriate gear. The most important thing about the game turns out to be that Pierluigi Collina is reffing this game but not the final, probably the ITV camera picking out a 'Farewell Collina Next Stop The Premiership' banner accompanied by a paper plate with eyes drawn on. Clive's in charge, hailing "the best team in the competition - France? Spain? Holland? Italy? England? No, the Czech Republic". Ooh. There's "more familiar names on right of screen than left", because Greece are underdogs don't you know. The Czechs start well, Tomas Rosicky hitting the post, Clive thinking "sometimes it needs an explosive incident to lift some of the tension in a semi-final". Or a bald referee, admiringly captioning a close-up of Collina "the one and only". Karagoudis "enjoys himself on the ball, he is a ball player", which is nice to know. Clive manages some world class fence-sitting, adjudging a penalty shout "it was struck towards the arm of Pavel Nedved, and Nedved kind of moved his arm towards it". Mmm? While the Czech defence are "prone to conceding errors", Townsend illiterately reckons, they at least have a tall striker, and "when you've got Jan Koller in the wall (at a conceded free kick) it's difficult to get it up and down". As Koller and Kapsis battle for a 50-50 ball Clive is moved to "look at the difference in height there", a mismatch that apparently "reminds me of one of Audley Harrison's early fights". BBC, you see. Rehhagel, a "German with a Greek temperament", is seeing his side come back into it slowly, but of course the real central figure is Collina, Clive dredging up a wrong Dutch penalty decision in 2000 and reckoning "I don't think he's been fooled a lot before or since". Given he was briefly suspended from Serie A a year later, we'd suggest perhaps so. Then we have the unedifying spectacle of Clive forgetting a punchline in the middle of delivering it - "two balls on the pitch at the moment - even Sepp Blatter would... would..." Yes, Clive. Maybe it's this that shakes him up so much he briefly claims a Rusedski is playing in midfield for the Czechs. He's still going on with his earlier obsession - "not exactly a player who can sneak up on you, Koller" - while Andy - your co-commentator tonight, which means Sir Bobby must have been sent out for two commentaries and one studio appearance alone, and also we'll not yet get to hear David Pleat tackling the pronunciation of Ujfalusi - picks up the other loose constant thread, continually claiming "another good decision" whenever Collina makes a decision of any kind. Let it go! Then there's a problem, as "Pavel Nedved's knee is to be the problem here" and he's going off, Tyldesley claiming "I think he's in distress emotionally and physically at the moment" while "Smicer's job is to replace the irreplacable". Not quite, actually. "It's not the pain from the knee" that's causing him to look disconsolate, like he'd know for sure. The half-time verdict is "at about five to eight tonight" the Czechs were dominating but not so much as the half went on, Des suspecting Rehhagel has "won the coaching manual contest of the first half", Venables worryingly suggesting part of his tactics is man-marking so tight they're "right inside their shorts", meaning "by the end of the half time their noses were in front". "No goals yet, but there will be some" is Des' appeal to the viewers, which should come as music to the ears of the sponsors and advertisers. Back at the game Clive's chancing it with "Koller held back - he had his collar felt" while suggesting Collina receives "not a hint of dissent to any decision he gives". No, Clive, of course he doesn't, and he never has. Satirism follows, of a particularly poor stripe, as he considers "the English papers were reporting this morning that Milan Mandaric, the Portsmouth chairman, is interested in Poborsky. I was beginning to think there was one player at these championships who wouldn't be linked with Portsmouth, and there was the last one". Yes, we particularly recall the Zidane To Pompey headlines, Clive. He then destroys his own one-liner by listing four. Greece are trying hard, Rosicky missing out as Clive ponders "you probably saw the bubble coming out of his head saying 'crikey, these guys are difficult to play against'", and the fans are enjoying it at least, as "the whole of the Greek corner of the ground is just bouncing at the moment". Shouldn't these major competitions be subject to stringent safety tests? "Katsouragis has just enough inches to grow" apparently, while Poborsky proves himself "the master of the chip" as one, um, goes well over. There's no replay, much to Clive's chagrin, who perhaps mindful of the previous night's Maniche goal reminds us with more than a hint of ire that "the pictures are being provided by Portuguese television tonight". Four bookings down, Clive spots none of the five starters already on a yellow has had a second, wondering "do you think that Pierluigi Collina knows who they are?" What difference that makes we're not sure, and not long afterwards he books one anyway, making mincemeat of Andy's view that this is because "they have a better referee in charge of it". Townsend's sure of where the game will be won and lost, hailing "coaches who are prepared to take a risk to win a game" like nobody ever brought on an extra striker before. Clive reminds us that Sunday is "Des Lynam's last show for us - our lives won't be quite the same afterwards". Really. He then goes "mmm, footballers!" for no reason, which just worries us. The Czechs press on, Koller missing ("it was a bad miss, but who's going to tell him?" - big, you see) and Baros shooting wide, Clive still calling him "the man with the midas touch" despite missing "what would surely have been a golden goal". But Clive, it's silv... forget it. He misses a cutaway of Platini with someone who looks not unlike Alan Shearer next to him, in any case, so be grateful for small mercies. He then tops his own baffling efforts by insisting Kapsis, when pushed by Koller, "goes to the ground, almost Basil Fawlty style". We must have missed that one. Where has Des' insistence on referring to games as "nought-nought" come from?

So we're into extra time, and because silver goal rules are so impossible to follow Clive feels it necessary to inform us "the key to understanding the golden goal is not to think of it as a goal at all". What is it, then? He reminds us "the last goal that we (as in he and Townsend) saw was scored by Frank Lampard", which is heartening. "It's another one of those nights when it's almost impossible to ask your son to go to bed" apparently, this being the main thing to talk about in games that go to extra time obviously. But the other end of the age scale isn't neglected, Clive noting it's "a late night for the two senior citizen coaches". But not too late. And here's an odd thing, as Greece take the free kick, Dellas heads and Clive remarks casually "they have scored..." It's as if he hasn't cottoned on to the thought that when the ball goes into the goal it's a moment of some importance, and the gap afterwards is long enough for Andy or the engineer to give him a nudge before he shouts "perfect timing!" That would take some explaining if anyone ever takes it up with him, and it's fair to say that'll be heavily edited before Sunday. Eventually he realises, stating "not even they believed that was possible at the start". Within a couple of minutes pictures from Athens are inserted, Clive going into cliche overdrive, saying "there will be no sleeping in that, or any other Greek town tonight" and reckoning "plenty of ouzo will be downed". "Hands up at home, who tipped Greece to make it to the final? No, thought so." "We are back where we started" is his final comment, Des adding "Greek football is in wonderland - well, they're in the final of Euro 2004". Interesting tautology. Just as Terry tells us man to man marking is "a German tactic" we go to Stelios Giannakopolous, and "he's with his son, is he?" Yes he is, parrying every Matt question. Tel wants to praise Greece, but Des stops him with "sorry to interrupt, but the big centre forward for the Czechs could have won the match". Well, clearly that couldn't have waited. Unbelievably, we get a Tour de France trail, followed by Portugal-Holland highlights ("it's old twinkletoes again"), and not before time the Campbell disallowed goal makes another appearance, giving Terry another chance to sit on the fence at length, while Ally thinks "there'll be a lot of disappointment from the big nations". Oh, well, Ally, let's give the whole tournament another go and see if we can come up with finalists that are more glamorous for the advertisers, shall we? Again, they could have finished much earlier, especially as there's a live Fantasy Football on next, but oh, we must get ITV's own Goal Of The Tournament competition, Des introducing it "here's a chance to start a row in your house". We doubt anyone's really that bothered, but thanks for thinking of us all the same. "It's not a competition, it's just an argument" is Des' words out of the package, and it doesn't even appear to be a phone-in to boot, just something for Tel and Andy to engineer an argument about. If it was a phone-in, of course, as we know from the Premiership Goal Of The Months, the winner wouldn't be anybody else's idea of Goal Of The Tournament. They seem to be rounding up the tournament in advance, perhaps knowing nobody will watch the final with them. "Why don't we watch it together? It's a date" Des coyly flirts at the end. On the back of this date?

TV Review - Wednesday 30th June - Portugal v Holland

2004-06-30T14:24:00.000-07:00

Hang on, Platini's famous winner against Spain in 1984 to open? Ah, we see, "a remarkable statistic" - "no, not the last time Motty got excited" Gary gags, perhaps forgetting Alfonso - being this was the last time the hosts got to the final, all having fallen at the semi-final hurdle since. Big Phil Scolari gets mobbed on his way in as Gary gets all clever about how he could become the first foreign coach to win a major tournament - "yes, I know strictly speaking they're all foreigners to us, but you know what I mean." Tonight the Dutch are wearing "white, with just a dash of orange". Schmeichel has been appointed Portugal expert in situ, saying of Scolari that after a slow start in winning public opinion "they love him... they want him as president or prime minister". They have both? Hansen's job is to analyse a defender, Carvalho, as "it's not often we get a Portuguese defender to eulogise". "What awaits us now, apart from the national anthems?" is Motty's rhetorical, not to mention prosaic, question. The referee is "Anders Frisk - he is frisk, the way he runs around the pitch", which is more information than we strictly required. Motty starts awkwardly, slipping up with "Figo for Holland - sorry, Portugal" and mentioning "the omens would appear to be with the hosts - except for that curse Gary Lineker was talking about earlier", surely a producer reminder. "Deco, aptly named - he decorates the game in midfield" is Barry Davies at his most hackneyed. Portugal start well, Lawro reckoning "this is the best start to any game that they've made", but Motty is star spotting, seeing Platini on the monitor and commenting "we showed that famous goal from 1984, and the scorer is in the stadium". Lawro invokes Ron Atkinson by reckoning "he beat him for fun" - and in no other way - before suggesting he's been ringing home like a typical British tourist when Motson comments on the heat, replying "don't tell them at home, it's raining, isn't it?" Someone in crowd appears to have a harmonica, but it's not Johan Cruyff, who Motson points out in another crowd shot, Lawro curiously suggesting "we'll take your word he's in the stadium". "Maybe Cruyff will come and comment on the game in the second half". We can but hope. As Portugal press and someone in the crowd plays a harmonica Lawro suggests drastic measures early, harking back to when "they brought van Hooijdonk on towards the end and played real route one football", Motty replying "that was against Germany, I saw that game". He watches football? Wow! Ronaldo's getting in, running with "first one foot, then the other", and he's quite good with his head too. Not that that's Motson's primary concern. "Oh, and that's Ronaldo! A goal for Portugal... but he's taken his shirt off and Anders Frisk is going to book him! He's gone to the crowd and Frisk is reaching for his yellow card!" Ever the football romantic. "But never mind, Portugal won't worry too much about that" he eventually concedes, although he seems more rattled than Cristiano himself. "A halting performance by Holland, but a positive one by Portugal" seems the sort of line he's been writing down for five minutes, which seems awkward. Of course, we all love Motty when he really gets excited. "Stil Luis FigOOAAAAAAAAOOO! He's hit the post! One of the moments of the tournament!" Well, it wasn't a goal and they're still behind in the semi-final, but it's the thought that counts. "Every time it gets into the Portuguese half, Portugal break away" is Lawro's adjudication, while even Motty gets critical of "Seedorf and Davids, two players whose reputations I've never quite understood". "Dutch players arguing with each other" Motty observes as they defend a free kick, which Lawro observes is "nothing new there, then". "After a slow start that certainly livened up" Gary reckons at half time, the pundits all in praise of the Portuguese. Peter admits previously "I haven't been the greatest fan of Figo in this tournament", Ian pointing out "You've been slaughtering him". Gary relays the news that a Dutch pundit thought Advocaat should be "hung or (mutters)" "Or what?" "Hung or stabbed!" That gets them in a good mood, Wright's observation on Davids' defending at the goal, "why do people hold the post?", leading everyone to piss themselves at the slo-mo. Alan sees Scolari reflecting "happy, happy times", Gary jumping the gun in labelling him a "genius". Luis Figo's performance is a particular high point, Alan remarking "Beckham used to do that" as if David was a contemporary of Stanley Matthews. Ian says van der Sar "looks like a Subbuteo goalie" diving for Figo's shot, while Peter suggests his improved game has been helped because after the England substitution "he needed a good kick... I won't say the next part of it". What next part? "They've got a mountain to climb - no mountains in Holland" is far too quick from Gary, who mocks Ian for his liking for Arjen Robben by showing a clip of him booting the ball 60 yards to nowhere, Wright straight-facedly asking "how do you do that?" On re-emerging Motson notes the Portuguese "look to me to have the more lively expressions", while on the other side "he's having one, Van Bronckhorst, I'm afraid". Interesting vernacular. "They're so much more mobile, Portugal, than Holland" Lawro chips in, and Portugal are continuing where they left off. "And here's Pauleta, real chance for Portugal - and van der Sar saves! That was the moment when they could have put one foot in the final!" That came a bit later, at which Motson nearly went stratospheric : "it's been taken quickly... and Maniche! Amazing! 2-0 Holland! Where did that come from?" Lawro adds "this'll be up there, one of the goals of the tournament". And it was, not that we knew at the time, the director having missed the strike showing a replay of the corner being conceded, although Motson had spotted the danger in his commentary. "I don't think our host broadcasters really caught it" he later notes, adding "it's almost a Van Basten - it wasn't on the volley, of course." Well, cheers. Just as we suspect the BBC duty log switchboard overflows, he adds "we're sorry that the local coverage didn't give you better coverage of that goal, as you know the BBC aren't in control of these pictures - I don't think van der Sar caught it either". Ho ho. "All over Lisbon, all over the country there'll be great scenes of jubilation" he states not exactly chancing his arm with rash predictions, but before we know it "van Nistelrooy's in here... oh, it's an own goal!" John's speech suddenly becomes very clipped when identifying Jorge Andrade as the defender whose interception meant "Holland, almost accidentally, are back in the semi-final". Lawro thinks had his defender not got there "the goalkeeper might have saved it also." "also." "That's the end of that." Nice to have these exchanges during the live game, chaps. Motson spends the rest of the game a notch above his already fairly excitable state, chastising the coverage ("not quite sure why we're seeing Ronaldo's goal again"), noting "there's a row going on with the referee" on a semi-regular basis and pacifying Lawro when he comes in with lines like "you could say the goalkeeper's hopping mad, I suppose" when Ricardo goes down injured. "Anything can happen in this semi-final now" he predicts, although perhaps putting it a little too all-inclusively. Ricardo rolls around again, an unsympathetic Lawro commenting "he's been shot". Holland have their dander up, Davids marauding so well Motson is forced to concede "I take back what I said about him in the first half". Holland are trying everything - "he's won a free kick - I thought he threw himself there a bit" - but just as Motson ventures "surely Anders Frisk will blow any time?" "He has!" and Portugal are in a final. John celebrates by turning into Barry Davies. "500 years ago the explorer Vasco de Gama discovered a new world from these parts, and now Portugal are in uncharted territory." Mmm. Looking back, Gary remarks on Ronaldo's celebration "if I had a body like that I'd take my shirt off too" and there's more Davids post-minding comedy, Ian taking the biscuit with "he's a little dreadlocked teapot!" Gary again apologises for them Portugals missing the second goal, attempting "rumours that the cameraman was David James are incorrect" to groans, and worries "we've got no chance of getting any sleep whatsoever". At least he's got a few days off now. Wright analyses the own goal, reckoning "if a forward tried to get onto that to chip the keeper he couldn't do it - only a defender could do that". Ian's own abilities to read strikers come into question, being royally prodded about his predictions of great things for Pauleta and admitting "I think I've jinxed the guy", Alan teasing "How many goals has he got?" and receiving "he's not got any, Al, and I think you know that" before vainly offering up "I tipped Milan Baros as well. Do you not remember me doing that?" Luis Figo doing the British TV post-match interview again! "I think Portugal have fantastic players, youngest players..." is his declaration for the team's success. "The good news is we'll see Pauleta in the final, the bad news is we won't see Robben" Gary wraps up with the pundits. Overmatey in the circumstances, yes, but let's see Des and Andy do that sort of thing. So that's the stadium full for the final - let's see the quality of opponent before we become too hasty...

TV Review - Sunday 27th June - Czech Republic v Denmark

2004-06-28T14:09:00.000-07:00

"I think I've just about got over the first of them" Gary assures us introducing the last quarter-final, but "what would you rather win - the European Championships or the World Cup?" OK, Gary, we know you've not been on since, but get over it already. Pointlessly, Jamie Redknapp's been upgraded to the live team - it can't be because he impressed on the highlights shows, can it? "The not so great Dane, Alan Hansen" reveals his grandfather was Danish, which is a turn-up. Even with a slightly shortened intro Gary has to fill with a quiz question which confuses everyone before Barry's ready. "There are quite a few empty seats in the stadium tonight" is his almost regretful early note, but he does perk up on seeing a "very tuneful young lad" among the Czechs. Jose Mourinho's there, as "he seems to be everywhere at the moment, and saying a lot". To who? The Czechs are top of the Fair Play league at least, Barry remembering to note they're "among the contenders at playing the game as well". His usual foibles come into play, as a felled player recovers "like Lazarus" and he virtually scolds the referee for giving "a free kick for such a silly thing like that". Oh, and all them foreign funny names, especially those that "sounds like a ladies' netball match". As a trumpeter starts playing Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye Baz notes "it was league football, now it's cup football", perhaps misinterpreting the tournament structure. A long stoppage leads to Barry and Mark Lawrenson casting an eye over the stands, Lawro wondering "I'm sure there was a man at the back who was asleep" while Baz points to "the man in the bare chest with 1992 written across it" and "a lady looking up at the monitor". No, it's not a classic. "You know how bad the game is? We've got a Mexican wave." Don't commentators usually love that kind of thing? Lawro has a plan, as in "last night's game, the best bit was extra time, so let's just fast forward and cut out the middle". Baz harks back to the days when "I mentioned players wanting other players to be booked and I was taken to task by Joe Mercer", expanding on this no more. We know Mercer was one of the first regular BBC pundits, but that's taking it a bit too far. "That half was so bad, even the technique on the Mexican wave was poor" is Gary's summation, adding "the reserves were better than this - perhaps they should come back". Hansen says "they've been on the booze every night", which may well be libellous, while Gary calls Koller "the proverbial head on a stick". Alan complains "you always give us something that's half-decent", which leads Gary to promise "special moments", Alan accurately predicting "oh, it's comedy then?" When the two Czechs late back onto the pitch return we get going, and soon enough "the goalkeeper comes and doesn't get there", Koller putting in so little effort "the lighthouse barely had to flash its light". Er, if you want. Barry's ire is raised by Jesper Gronkjaer combining a neat fall under no pressure with a pull of Nedved's hair : "Unbelievable! Unbelievable! And that wasn't too good either... cheating is the word." Milan Baros gets his revenge for Pavel soon enough and the Czechs are coasting through, Lawro replying to a substitution query "and your reading of that is?" "the Czechs are winning 2-0" and leaving it at that. "There might be more, there might be here... there is!" 3-0, and "as against England in the World Cup, so against the Czech Republic". "They're certainly not the only team in this Championship who have contributed to their own downfall" he helpfully adds, while Mark suggests someone "take Peter's shoelaces off before it gets any worse". Otto Rehhagel is spotted making copious notes, Lawro suggesting "he's given a Viking funeral to his Danish notes". In the middle of a stadium? "Listen to the hand he's being given" is Barry's illogical but proud statement as Baros goes off. Another old chestnut is revived when Cech makes a diving block and Barry tut-tuts "in the Premiership he might be made to pay for it". Foreign keepers, you see, always parrying or punching the ball away. Nedved's still trying, Barry almost proudly noting "you'd have thought it was still 0-0, the determination to win that ball" as the Danes start to lose it, Gravesen kicking Heinz and then shouting at him, Barry rhetorically asking "what's he complaining about?". As Lawro refers to someone called Groncher Baz notes "a reluctance from Danish supporters to join in the rave, save to say goodbye". "Tomas Sorensen, warming the air" doesn't sound like the most workable of eco-systems to us. Barry by this stage has completely lost it, reckoning the Czechs in Porto is "appropriate... fine wine, well matured", with "a sprinkling of youngsters to fortify the wine". But Barry, it's not wine. They're enjoying this, the Republic, "all the noise is coming from the throats of Czechs" and "even their goalkeeper can show he's useful on the deck" as he turns an onrushing striker. 3-0, then, "the Czech Republic challenge goes on, and it is a considerable challenge". Peter Schmeichel back in the box gives a lesson on defending corners which includes the wise advice "you need to have players inside the box, and players outside the box", gary chiding "it must be very difficult for Sorensen, he looks up and in the top left hand corner there's Schmeichel". Top left? From both boxes? Gary and Alan find amusement in Nedved falling over some bottles until Gary admits "I think we're overdoing that joke", something you'd never hear from, say, Ally McCoist, before Hansen turns on Lineker's dismissals of Koller, claiming "you said he's such a bad player you couldn't believe he was playing in such a good team" and knowingly concluding "he knows nothing about centre forwards". He's happy, though, given "Holland were one of the five teams I picked before the start... Peter Reid picked 16". Gary does however spoil the mood at the death with another one from the Bumper Book Of Czech Jokes, being "Czech-out time for the Danes". Three games left...

TV Review - Saturday 26th June - Holland v Sweden

2004-06-28T12:42:00.000-07:00

But they are bothering. "England would have played the winners of this" is Des' take, as opposed to, say, "the winners of this play Portugal". Holland are "slight favourites", whatever that means, while Ally refers to "questions whether he can do it outside Scotland", because he was nothing before moving to Celtic, wasn't he? Alongside him Robbie refers to "one of the few Dutch players who play in Holland", er, Ibrahimovic. Well, we're not going to tell him. "Next we'll meet the players" Des promises before the first break, but of course there's no such thing unless you count the players coming onto the pitch. Clive's in the box, warning "you may wish to fiddle with the colour controls on your remote... ITV1 will be rather yellow and orange for the next couple of hours, you may wear sunglasses if you wish." Those crazy foreigners with their non-primary coloured kits, eh? He then refers to "some red raw European flesh on show to match the red raw European nerves", which is a distressing thought. The colours obsession continues with a reference to "oranges and lemons", even though Holland are playing in white, eventually working round to proper sarcasm, "the referee tonight, by the way, is Edgar Davids of Holland" as Davids and the actual ref argue. Well, it's a start, give him a break. Clive reminds us that Sweden made it here after notoriously drawing 2-2 with Denmark, but "I can assure you I was at that match and it was all fair and square", and anyway they wouldn't be in that position were it not for the goals of Henrik Larsson, such as his header against Bulgaria "which I know is a favourite goal of the championships for many of you". How does he know? Does he have written proof? He will go on to call the countries "neighbours", which is stretching it a little, in mentioning that they haven't played each other since 1983 but club duties mean there's "not too many mysteries out there". van Nistelrooy goes down easily in the area and is threatened with "a card the colour of their (the Swedes') shirts". Let it go, man! Andy, in common with many other co-commentators, wields the word "simulation" as a damning criticism, Clive commenting "there are one or two million nodding heads around the country" at his reference to Ruud's diving. No bitterness there. A few minutes later at a free kick Andy refers to his "usual offside position" with a mixture of scorn and anticipation. It comes to nothing, luckily for us all. So little is happening by this stage Clive is reduced to talking about Midsummer's Eve celebrations in Sweden. "What's going on, Ally?" What does go on is Des almost desperately having to stop the sometime McHaddock going on about Ruud and offside again, and then issuing a "steady, chaps" over the latest close-up of a bikini topped female fan. For the second time in two days an ITV commentator reminds us at half time that the game may well go to extra time and penalties with reference to England. Not that they're obsessed. Ah, Manolo. "You'd love to be sat next to him, wouldn't you?" Clive remarks, as if he were your mum. He then continues his occasional habit of captioning cutaways, offering a "cheer up, Dick" at Advocaat looking slightly concerned. His big decision is to take off Davids, "not exactly derring-do from Dick Advocaat, but there you go" says Clive, who adjudges that "the fall of night here in Faro has brought the temperature down a degree or two, and the quality of the game has gone up", a game, in fact, "now dancing to a rather quicker beat". Not quick enough, though, to stop Clive from really stretching for a reference for those at home to grab onto, settling as he does for "you're not old enough to remember Roger Davies of Derby County? Ibrahimovic reminds me of him". Age must be doing something to him, as he speculates "it's getting to that time of night when the children of England are hoping for extra time and they might just get to stay up a bit later again tonight. No school tomorrow - why not?" No, Clive. Just... no. Michael Reiziger's throw-in technique comes in for close scrutiny, Tyldesley observing it "looks like a foul throw... he comes round the side" before wondering if "one or two cricket umpires would like to have a look at that action - Muralitharan..." He gets no further with that thought, possibly on realising it's pointless. He goes on to offer no proof that "they call him Balloo in Sweden, Tommy Soderbergh" before playing the home card again - "the more we see, the more we wonder what a chance England had... nothing to fear here". Plenty to fear, surely? "That is the end of 90 goalless minutes" eventually, and into the ads we go, after which Des has just enough time to admit it's "not quite the classic we've been expecting" before interrupting the punditry in mid-flow because the game's about to restart and Clive has to attempt to explain the silver goal rules as if it's further maths, coming up with "the best way to think of it is two mini games of football" as if he's Humphrey Lyttleton introducing One Song To The Tune Of Another on I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue. "Not one player on the field tonight has looked like he's wanted to get hold of the game and be the man" is Andy's hypothesis, conjuring up all sorts of thoughts of Ruud, who according to Clive "doesn't always see the pass", suddenly declaiming himself as if he were Eddie Murphy. Holland nearly get the break when Isaksson lets the ball bounce away and - "lucky, lucky man!" - onto the post. "He looked like the little boy who didn't really want to play cricket today so they stuck him on the boundary and suddenly the ball was coming at him a little bit faster than he wanted" Clive continues with his other obsession, adding "they should move him to third man quickly". That'd screw up the gameplan. A Swede goes down in a heap after Ruud "just caught him right on the Adam's apple" accidentally, but Andy's not so sure, replying "you're not convincing me, you know". Clive's "I'll do it to you after the game and see how you like it" is a little too forceful for comfort. Even after a half of extra time "a pin and a blindfold" is still needed to determine what we must now refer to as the man, and so "another mini-game" ensues. Or just extra time continuing until the normal end of proceedings. Jaap Stam lines up a free kick, which would be odd to most of our untrained eyes but not to Clive, who assures us "I've seen Stam take free kicks and when he strikes them they stay struck". It sails over, but not as badly as "Cocu... I know what word I want to say to you, as that's what Cocu's just done". What word's that, then? With the game "gradually being shaken and opened up" - what, again? - but heading for a goalless end Clive bites the bullet and has to sound serious while declaring "those of you waiting for the Stars In Their Eyes Celebrity Special" will have to wait. An immediate cutaway of the Swedish bench brings the almost inevitable, if scientifically inaccurate, "tonight, Tommy, I will be a European Championship semi-final match". Patronisation follows as he reckons "the Dutch do bring colour to every game, and they do support their team in a really engaging way, as do the Swedes". Engaging. Now there's a word you don't see often enough in celebrations of fan culture. Clive then elects to take the piss out of Ljungberg's declaration he'd like to play in the Olympics, wondering what Wenger would say. Two small points here : the Olympic competition is essentially a under-21 world cup now but with overage players allowed, and moreover Sweden didn't qualify for it. Finally it's finished and we can "enjoy the sight of someone else's nation's players going through the agony of a penalty shootout". And of *course* ITV head straight for a commercial break on the final whistle and rejoin as the keepers head for the goal. "it's a lottery, of course, but it's thrilling" remarks Des, while Clive goes for satirism in mentioning "the penalty spot didn't move". "Advantage Holland!" Townsend analyses where Ibrahimovic went wrong, claiming "most people come at the ball these days from a slight angle, he ran straight at that one". Ljungberg gets his enormous, if technically illegal in a shoot-out, stroke of luck, and he "cannot repeat that - I thought he'd scooped it over". Andy's advice on going past the five penalties is "not a penalty taker? Hit it." Mellberg doesn't - more Villa! Juan Pablo Angel's getting the spot kicks next season, then - Robben does and "it's Holland's turn - overdue turn". The Dutch celebrate like they've won the thing, Kluivert and van der Sar bringing their kids out for the lap of honour, Tyldesley captioning the latter "my dad saved a penalty tonight!" Andy can only hark back to the Republic's 1990 triumph "15 years ago", a mathematical error possibly explained when he wonders "I wonder if the Dutch players will be able to drink as much as we did." "I'd like to see them try" is Clive's response. Finely tuned top level athletes there. Much of the ITV talk is about how great penalty shoot-outs are, Robbie defending them with the line "it makes great TV" while Ally reckons "they're compulsive viewing". Nobody actually thinks this outside ITV pundits, do they? "It's as if they didn't both want to lose" Earle somewhat obviously declares. And of course they now have 15 minutes to pad out by talking at length about David Beckham, so all's well that ends well. If you're ITV.

Anyone hanging on for our review of Holland-Sweden...

2004-06-27T09:52:00.000-07:00

...sorry, but for reasons we're not entirely sure of ourselves our PC crashed during the write-up and we lost a good portion of our work. Luckily we've got the game on video, so if you don't mind hanging on for a day or so? Cheers.

From the Whose Bloody Idea Was This? department

2004-06-27T01:31:00.000-07:00

a search for not only lookalikes of the England squad but of their partners too. If Colleen McLoughlin is your "idol" we'd suggest you seriously consider your system of values. Plus, under 16 year olds only? Have fun finding a Svenalike.

TV Review - Friday 25th June - France v Greece

2004-06-26T11:02:00.000-07:00

An enthralling tactical battle in the knockout stages of a major competition? That can wait, we've got England to get through first. "Got over it yet?" Well, clearly Terry hasn't, as he's raging about it. Andy's "looked at this all day" with regard to the disallowed goal, while Des exhorts us to "watch the ball rather than the kicker" as if nobody else had suggested the penalty spot might have become substandard. "Our cameraman got down onto the pitch last night", and sure enough there's a close-up of the offending turf. In daylight. "Well, Plan A was to be that we'd meet them again in the final", but with no pre-game analysis at all - got to get the competition in - straight to Drury, who refers to "that penalty save, Roy Of The Rovers style" which apparently saved France. We suspect a couple of incidents some time after that decided the fate of the game better, but never mind. The tournament "now deprived of England but not of players well known to the English" - got over it yet? - continues with, er, David Pleat, whose habit of opening his co-commentaries "evening all" is really starting to grate almost as much as when he starts giving facts about players, which is surely the commentator's job. Drury's soaping him up, of course, claiming Santini "has big shoes to climb into at Tottenham" as if the former manager was The Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe. A few minutes later Drury claims Olivier Dacourt "has big boots to fill" too, so maybe the FFF just ordered a lot of oversized footwear. "They're claiming it's over the line" Drury wonders as Barthez scrambles and we get three replays, not that he seems to have an inkling either way after all those. On second thoughts Pleat might be doing it deliberately, as surely nobody would properly comment on seeing the ball made dead so treatment could be administered
"that's been a terrific thing in the competition, the way players have kicked the ball out". It's like Jimmy Hill was back. We know, of course, that Drury is something of a mark for Henry and France, but he sounds positively let down when commenting "it's not happening". As Pleat praises someone called Lizazaru, something he'll do a couple more times before the end of the game, Peter's contacts apparently tell him "they've not seen so many Greek flags being flown since the end of the occupation in 1945". And they say we pointlessly bring up the war. With time "before France can head back into the cool of the dressing room and ask 'anyone got an idea?'" Zidane gets booked and Peter gets loose - "no reputation too big for Anders Frisk - you may be the best in the world, mate, but a foul's a foul". Er, yeah. Still, aren't they doing well, the little Greeks? According to Drury they "surely don't have to apologise for their methods here... their best trick was to make it hard for them", you know, what with playing better football and having better chances. Peter brings up "Martin O'Neill when he was at Leicester" as a comparison to hand, which marks him out as the insular one. 0-0 at half time, with "just an inkling that something strange may happen", but the team find some things to praise France on, specifically that "he doesn't seem to muck it up, as they say, Henry". The over the line debate is brought up, Des reminding us that "the whole of the ball over the whole of the line - they're laughing because our good old friend Jimmy Hill used to say that all the time", Townsend asking "are you going to give us a rendition?" We don't remember Jimmy ever saying that, but never mind. We're sure Venables is making it up too when he says of a Greek potshot "they used to call it a paintbrush, he's swiping his foot under the ball". Then we get another angle of the ball/line debate, Des, Tel and Andy providing live commentary on the close-up : "I think it is there?" "No, Des, behave yourself!" "There! There! There!" "There!" "that's not..." Unfortunately you can only see the ball on widescreen TV sets, and we don't have one. Well done, ITV. "Look in the paper, as they say - it's still 0-0" Drury reminds us, mentioning possibly with half an eye on the previous day "manicured football pitches alone don't provide results" and then starting going on about the fair play league. Shortly afterwards he brings up Antonis Nikopolidis' forthcoming move from Panathanaikos to Olympiakos, claiming "you just don't do that, in the way that Sol Campbell couldn't possibly have moved from Spurs to Arsenal." He could have just referred to them as city rivals, but no, the England player had to get a pointless mention. And then look what happens "Now then! The champions are wobbling here... and Charisteas is on the edge of becoming a Greek god!" Always has to go that little bit further, doesn't he? Pleat points out the contribution by "ex-Leicester City player Zagorakis", as if that's where he learnt how to play at this level. Zagorakis was an O'Neill signing for the club, actually - shouldn't you have mentioned that at the time? "We've seen some funny results, but none would be funnier than this" is the best way Drury can describe what is unfolding before him, speculating "this is opening up for the hosts, but that's a conversation for later". Has to be brought back as soon as possible to home issues, though, as he cautions "we are 25 minutes away from saying this is Santini's last game as coach of France, so he'll be arriving at White Hart Lane on time after all". Then he really goes for it. "According to mythology the ancient Greeks had twelve great Olympian gods - these days they're saying they just field eleven at a time. I would suspect Dionysis, the god of wine, would be fairly prominent if they win tonight." Alright, stop it with the half remembered A-level course. And who are these people who say that? It's just you, Peter, isn't it? It's all falling apart, "Gallas is saying where's the marking - well, he's one of the back four too", just as it is in the British commentary box, judging by "France have inspirers... Venetidis is certainly a perspirer tonight." That can't have been an ad-lib. "Greece must remember England", however, as France press and Tsiartas is withdrawn, Peter speculating "I'd be surprised if there is rubber left in his soles". How much of a surprise is it? Well, if anyone was going to stop France, "it might have been England, it might have been Spain, it could have been Portugal or Italy... it might be Greece". And in case you can't grasp how defeat might feel, "think how it feels to be French now - think how it felt to be English last night". Yeah, cheers Peter, many of us support teams who lose games on a semi-regular basis. France continue, and eventually "HENRY!" Drury's scream is wasted as it floats wide. "That's a massive chance - you had your shirt, your trousers, your socks and your shoes on him" he nonsensically comments, adding "those go in for Arsenal" somewhat unnecessarily. Pleat, ever the unromantic, uses a stoppage in play due to Charisteas going down injured to demand the referee book him for timewasting. "He's OK, he's, he's stopped the game, and that's what the French didn't want... that was naughty too, should have played that ball into touch, he's played it to Barthez." Thank christ he's not your manager, eh? In fact he's sounded all game like the man least bothered by events going on around him. "Lizarazu! Lizarazu! It's getting away" is Drury's reaction to France's last chance, the name twice perhaps to take the piss out of Pleat, also commenting "the potential outcome is unthinkable - was unthinkable, now it's fact, and it hurts some people", over a shot of an implacable looking Santini. "This isn't a myth - can I say that" ventures Pleat, surely not needed given what his colleague's floated during the game, noting "the Greek commentators are going mad, they're standing in front of us - sit down!" Again, what a romantic. "The end! Staggering! The kings of Europe dethroned by the Greek gods!" He always has to ruin it right at the end, doesn't he? "The French don't know which way to look" he states, adding "in a year when Olympians will visit Athens and do good for sport, how uplifting that the Greek nation has this to carry back with it." That doesn't make sense, does it? Back in the studio Andy does his patented telling us what someone else's graphics are already showing us in the hope it makes him look incisive, and total comment on the game is restricted to under three minutes so they can talk about England. If you're not bothered about plausibly the biggest upset in European Championship history because Andy Townsend wants to slag off David Beckham yet again, ITV, don't bother in future.

Someone always gets there first

2004-06-25T12:30:00.000-07:00

Bad news for anyone wanting to cast black magic spells over Urs Meier - Romanians have already tried that. His "capacity to whistle" seems to have been unaffected, however.

An appeal to a decent proportion of England fans

2004-06-24T16:30:00.000-07:00

Next time the England squad and manager are the worst, least talented people ever ever ever and none of them should ever play for/coach the side again, let us know before the tournament begins and not after they get eliminated from a major competition, would you?

TV Review - Thursday 24th June - England v Portugal

2004-06-24T16:03:00.000-07:00

"Same time, same place, same team - same result would be nice." Nice intro line. "Sven has brought back his diamond - don't worry, not his formation, his geezer." Much less pleasing, Gary. In the studio are Alan, who advises the players "don't come off the pitch disappointed", Ian, who reckons England are "more favourites", and Peter, who as usual says nothing of note. Ledley King's out, Gary casting around for favourable comparisons and settling on Will Greenwood before hoping Owen scores as "we've run out of puns for Wayne Rooney". You never run out of that kind of thing, Gary. Motson senses deja vu, even to the point of questioning "you're in the same seats at home", and cites the various match-ups as "friends reunited, really". "No jokes, please, about turnips or tomatoes" he pleads, while Joe Royle talks up "the artistry of Deco". There are "nervous moments while the players get to know each other again", but not too many - "It's come off the defender - Owen has scored!" "Owen has paid back big time!" is Motson's meaningful if illogical appraisal. He appears to spend much of the half, not without reason, nervous about Portuguese attacks, referring at one point to "Neno... Nuno Gomes", but the defence just about holds firm, aided by "Neville, who's often the shop steward, is playing the shop keeper". Portugal nearly get a shot in while Motty is busy telling us Maniche's real name, but at least this proves John's done his background work, which you'd expect from him, but "Deco, who we hear will not now be going to Chelsea" is left without explanation. Royle reckons "their best player tonight has been Maniche, especially his long range shooting - he's got one goal already...", which may confuse latecomers seeing the 'POR 0 ENG 1' graphic. "An...An... Ashley Cole" is involved in "the Arsena-Man Utd debate" as he takes on Ronaldo, and for once is successful. "He really has got them up for this tournament, Eriksson" is Motty's rash overview, still sounding concerned as he misses a Costinha header over telling us about the last meeting between the sides. Still, "there are centre halves, and there are giants, and there's Sol Campbell". Er, yeah. Then, Rooney has a free kick given against him for being shadowed, or something. "I think his boot came off here, Joe!" "I don't think that's an offence" Royle replies, but there's problems. "A nation will hold its breath here, I think" Motty frets, but not as much as when the director cuts to a replay of the goal rather than watch Wayne get treatment, admitting "we hope to be able to show you that in pictures shortly". "David James is scrambling!" Joe advises "we should take our time", which at times seems to be the problem. John's more concerned watching Rooney at seemingly every opportunity, and a slo-mo from the BBC's own camera gets prior commentary - "I think it's an ankle, Joe" is the somewhat obvious conclusion. Motty appears particularly rattled by free kicks just outside the box, almost crying "there's nobody on the post". Joe has the Owen first goal odds to hand, but Motty's not concerned about that - "Rooney disappeared straight down the tunnel and he hasn't re-emerged". When news comes he apologises "sorry to interrupt myself, but I've got some news... he's gone off for an X-ray on an injured ankle". Cheers for that. Royle's more worried about the refereeing, and indeed being able to read David Beckham's mind, as apparently at one point after a Portuguese foul he's "asking what's the difference, why is there no yellow card Mr Meier?" And still the panic : "Figo is in the sort of position Zidane was in... there's nobody on the post", virtually right up to when the Figo shot bounces behind the goal. At half time he considers "the removal of Rooney" "more significant" than the goal, which is certainly an interesting reading of the scoreline. At half time something akin to despondency sets in, Reid claiming "they're controlling the middle park" and referring to one 'Concertina' yet somehow not noticing on the Rooney replay "his boot's off". There's cameras on crowds at Glastonbury and in the Eastenders bar, for whatever reason, but nobody's quite that lively outside. At one replay showing John Terry being caught too deep Hansen starts to turn into your dad shouting at the television : "Get out! GET OUT!" "Let's just remind ourselves at this stage that England are winning" Gary is forced to comment before throwing back to the commentators, Motson now determining the injury merely "the other significant moment". Does 'Big Phil Scolari' have to be referred to in commentaries by his full name by law? "If you're watching at home you're feeling a little uneasy at the moment, and so are we", and it shows. Royle is less than convinced by Phil Neville's arrival but seems to think he'll solidify the midfield. It works about as well as previously as "Portuguese poise has replaced English energy". Royle tempts fate by suggesting they "don't look particularly potent", Motty suggesting "what they are is persistent". As the England fans introduce the Portuguese to "shall we sing a song for you?", Motson reckons "Weary without Wayne is how I would sum England up at the moment". Leave it now, John, it's all conjecture. Royle pinpoints Luis Figo, for some reason, as the main threat, as he "might not be the player he was in other years, but he's pulling the strings". Which other years are these? Perhaps to make up for missing the injury that rocked a commentary position earlier there's a long close-up on Vassell on all fours for a short time after being tackled. "Have England got the mettle now to retain their lead?" You'd think so, what with "a displeased Figo went down the tunnel without stopping" after being replaced with Spurs' Helder Postiga and with Sol Campbell being "our own version of Robocop". His talents really don't end, by the sounds of it. Still they press, still they hold back. "They're going to be tortuous minutes, I fear" is the worried expression when the clock strikes 81, but on the bright side "if it stays like this, they go out of their own tournament". But... an equaliser. "This doesn't look good for England" Motty somewhat redundantly comments, while Royle's still off on his own agenda what with "Mr Meier realising he can book the boys in red as well as those in white". "How much of this goes back to the Rooney injury is something to be debated" - shut up, John! The chances of finishing before extra time don't look great as "Ricardo's just touched the ball for the first time in about 35 minutes", but then... "It's off the bar... and in - and it's not going to count... and Portugal are attacking! It's a repeat of Hodgargeltina!" Our sentiments entirely, John. "An incident there that will keep us talking for about three days" he overaccurately predicts, and while Royle initially blames John Terry, on the second replay he "can't see too much wrong with that at all". "I think Urs Meier said there was a push" is Motson's surprised reaction on seeing the referee indicate as such, and whatever else may or may not have happened to disallow the goal the only pushing going on was Campbell on Terry. Controversy! "I think we'll have a rest up here and leave it to Gary" John eventually withdraws. And hardly before time.

Back in the box Ian drops all pretence of even-handedness to declare "this referee's a homer", while Alan suggests they "don't feel sorry for yourselves". "It could be a silver goal, it could be penalties" Gary finishes, with no great positive emotion. Royle hopes "we are angry, I hope we are aggreived", but it doesn't look it. Motson chooses this moment to mention "I thought the refereeing would be influential in the second half in some strange way". He sounds about as drained as David Beckham, declaring at one stage "I really can't see any value in that kick from James" and trying to leaven the situation with nearly black humour, suggesting"the grocer from Zurich didn't balance the scales very fairly to England", which gets a "well done, John" from Joe. A cutaway reveals Sven giving instructions, Motty asking Joe what he might be saying and getting a very helpful "I don't understand Swedish" as response. The dark lining of the cloud of being level continues as John chooses to mention Ricardo "has a flamboyant reputation in the Portuguese league for saving penalties". Royle's summation is that "we've not been playing well but our blocking, our determination, our spirit's been fantastic", commenting also that having worked so hard "Ronaldo's not going to need a pre-season when he gets home". Paranoia seems to be setting in - "the referee has given a free kick in the last minute of... oh no, it's a throw." Royle seems to have forgotten that he's broadcasting to the nation, declaring again "we have definitely been cheated" over another showing of Campbell's moment cut short as Motson helpfully reminds us "there will not be a silver goal". Still there's "Scowling Phil Solari and serene Sven". "Whatever you were going to do after the match has been delayed" he reminds us, again acting as if he too were at home - "if England would just make a chance for Owen..." Instead we get "a blast from the past", Joe wondering "Where did that come from?" "Scolari's not scowling now" Motty helpfully adds, suggesting "we could all do with a drink, Sven" at a shot of the coach with a water bottle directly before Lampard makes it "a game that will be talked about for as long as the championship is played". "An extraordinary sequence of events" over, it's The Dreaded Penalty Shoot-Out, Gary dredging up some enthusiasm even though "first of all we've got to call for the paramedics", said to a soundtrack of Wright coughing profusely. The pundits then embark on a game of penalty taker guessing, wisely cut short just as Ian gets down to the Nevilles. Beckham takes the first and "put it miles over the bar... he's sliced it, Joe". Three later "there's really nothing much to say between these penalties, all the drama is in front of you", which makes you wonder what he's being paid for. The spot appears to be coming in for a lot of blame, given it appears to be built on the burnt parts of a field, Royle suggesting "they're all doing a bit of gardening round the penalty spot". Rui Costa throws England a lifeline as "oh, it's gone over as well", Joe still working the "there's definitely something gone wrong with the penalty spot there" angle. In fact, "this penalty spot is at the heart of everything that's going on here", which in a shoot-out is a fairly obvious thing to say, Ronaldo choosing to jump double-footed on it, which is "one way of dealing with it, I suppose". Motson is almost speechless in a way we've never heard him before - "it's breathtaking, it's theatre, it's so, so important. Heart-stopping stuff." The ugly truth dawns that "we're going to have to have a sixth kicker for each side", and after Ashley Cole surprises Motty - "oh, he rolled it in!" - "one or two of the Portuguese looked at each other - they weren't sure who was going to take the next one". It was Postiga, whose poor impression of Panenka still worked, Motson's note of caution being "they wouldn't have been so happy, Portugal, had it hit the post and stayed out". Unlikely, you'd have to say, as it went down the middle. "This must be gripping the nation, never mind Eusebio" is John's somewhat syntax-free reaction to a cutaway of the legend... and then Vassell goes and misses. "He's scuffed the ball - it's that penalty spot" is Royle's inevitable reaction before Portugal just take the piss. "And the goalkeeper could be taking it! He's going to take the penalty that could put England out... and he has!" "Almost speechless - Joe Royle, what can you say?" "We'll be talking about that disallowed goal forever and a day" is his reply, which is an improvement on Motson's three days. Lineker sounds positively inconsolable, throwing to the highlights with "it's largely irrelevant now" and the misses with "you're going to see this a few times over the next few years". Again Rooney's departure is held up as "the decisive moment of the game" and even the technicians seem drained of vitality and work skills, fading Steven Gerrard's voice up over a Erikssson on-camera interview. "England are going home after a penalty shoot-out and a mare of a decision from the referee" is Lineker's final words. Not hugely pithy, but it's been that kind of night.

TV Review - Wednesday 23rd June - Germany v Czech Republic

2004-06-23T13:59:00.000-07:00

"Tonight it could be bye-bye Germany..." - or Holland, Des, but clearly they couldn't find any stereotypical Dutch fans to amateurishly read "forget Latvia, but we love your referee" and "we always get to the final". "There's hardly any names we recognise in there" is Des' view of the Czech side, but Terry's sticking to his line that "we want Holland to go through - more attractive". After Italy's elimination last night, best not push your luck for more of that. The crew sent to capture the atmosphere find some singing Germans, who in a marvellously incongruous yet at once ITV-like, and indeed destined for montages for the rest of the tournament, moment stop to tell those at home "we love your Rooney!" Des appears in the adverts voicing over the Lipton advert, which is against advertising standards regulations. Refusing to write off the Germans, Jon Champion nevertheless spots something - "Germany need to win the game, but one striker? What are they playing at?" Jon and Jim are in a laid-back mood considering, hailing "the best tackle on a match official we've seen so far this tournament", although Jon's "as they'd say in American football, second down and 8" is a step too far. Just as Champion finds time to ponder offside decisions, wondering "there's supposed to be daylight between players, isn't there, these days", Ballack strikes and Jon finds an extra couple of G's - "whaggagoal!" Meanwhile Holland have scored, and "we'll show you the incident in a few minutes... in fact, here it is". Director/commentator communication jumpy? The Czechs get a free kick, which "suits a left-footer, this", like, say, Heinz - "Oh, I say! Who needs Nedved?" The Germans are abject, meaning "Nowotny is again the most advanced player - am I missing something?" On their showing thus far Jim reckons they "don't deserve to progress - there isn't enough", whereas Heinz is such a commanding presence "he didn't get sick before he hit the ball", unswayed by Jon's reminder "that was the penalty, not the free kick". "Germany are in deep trouble" is his summary, Des pointing out they're "being held by the Czech... well, Czech reserves really". It's left to Tel to reach for the "57 varieties" line, but at least he's being entertained, responding to Des' chiding "you're delighted, aren't you?" with "I've got that orange look!" We'll do the knowing punchlines, thanks. This performance, of course, is against pretty much a reserve Czech side, hence when Vratislav Lokvenc injured himself Jon commenting "they might have to bring on Jan Koller!" Baros, actually, but the point remains. We get the tournament's first non-requirement of a lip reader, as Jon comments of a German "he knows how to swear in English", Jim almost resignedly replying "most of them do". It looks like Germany are to fall foul of "the group of you know what", and Champers can't contain himself when "Baros could finish the Germans here... auf weidersehen!" Now we can write off the Germans. "Maybe the disguise wasn't a disguise" Champers ponders of the famed German ability to come good after all, although calling their betters "bouncing Czechs" doesn't help his populist cause. He then ponders what Bild and the like will make of it all, referring to the sausage comparisons made after their Romanian 5-1 defeat and speculating "I'm sure they'll be frying those sausages tomorrow". "Some partisan supporters back home may consider this fantasy football" he cautions on what he calls "a seminal night for German football", and certainly the team are playing like reproductive seeds. "How the mighty are falling!" is the best he can come up with on the final whistle, followed by the idea that "the English sing about it, the Germans usually do it, but there'll be no great escape", remembering what audience will be cheering at that time. Back in the studio Robbie suggests "we should feel sorry for them, but we don't" and labels Baros "the Darius Vassell of Czech football", in case you couldn't grasp the concept of a player who seems to play better for his country than for his club. The talk of tomorrow is left until last, and no wonder when Des wonders aloud "Rooney and Ronaldo - sounds like a singing team, doesn't it?" No it doesn't. He ends with an appalling Sven impression for the second night in a row, just to put the dampener on what for a lot will be a great night. And on to the knock-out stages we go...

TV Review - Tuesday 22nd June - Italy v Bulgaria

2004-06-22T14:00:00.000-07:00

"Henmania? Forget it - it's Wayne-mania now!" So to the well thumbed clips from previous games re-edited, soundtracked by the Libertines' Time For Heroes, a smart choice if the title actually appeared in the lyrics. There's no point in them starting with two minutes of this, but that's ITV for you. "Trust me, it's complicated" is Des' overview of the group situation, even though everybody knows about 2-2 and all that, before he speculates whether they could "join Spain on the plane... home". Some plane journey that would be. "48 hours until the feast day of St George and St Wayne" are Drury's opening words, betraying where ITV's real thoughts lie. It's apparently "an evening with the potential to become mighty complex" - goal difference involved, you see? It must be impossible to the untrained mind! - as Italy start to "trample on the group doormats". "If you're getting indifferent weather at home", Drury reassures us that the weather there is "reminiscent of those foggy, misty nights in Turin", which sounds a little too much like a failed holiday. "We're talking Hartlepool on a Friday night here" is probably just a particularly memorable for the wrong reasons work placement. "Petrov's devillish ball in" is unrewarded, Italy not looking convincing, which Pleat puts down to "when they had the national anthem there seemed a little nervousness". David takes three attempts to pronounce a Bulgarian's name, which is about par for the course, but he and his team-mates are doing well, Drury reckoning "Trapattoni not enjoying the rain against his window". Well, nearly the lyric. "The first Italian whistle of an evening that will become increasingly irascible" ensues even before the penalty, Pleat damning "my first reaction is Berbatov's bought that penalty", then on replay changing his mind to "he's obviously given it for holding". "The easy meats have bitten back - Italy are quaking in a quiet corner" breaks all sort of records for least explicable Drury commentary, and that's some feat. "Italy have something Alpine to climb here", and it's not helped by their performance, which Terry and Andy gleefully lay into, Venables reckoning "there ought to be a steward's inquiry into this team". "Not only do they need to win this match, they're currently losing it" is Des' at least accurate assessment, Pleat putting it down to having nobody to "show any jiggery-pokery". But they do get a scrappy equaliser, meaning "Italy are halfway back up their mountain" - an Alpine one, of course. Drury's still assuring us only the finest brains in production can work out the group situation, assuring us "we are one goal at either venue away from life becoming a little more difficult". Gianluca Zambrotta's getting the work in, though, Pleat marvelling "I don't know what pills he's on, but you should get some". Zambrotta of course plays for Juventus, of Creatine scandal fame. Italy still need three points, in any case, "having to throw all their natural instincts away" as "2-1, 3-2, 4-3... any win will do". Ah, that sort of win. "Think there's a mathematician on the Italian bench tonight, Peter?" David hardly helps. Drury predicts a lot of injury time to add to the pain, suggesting "you've got no plans for last orders at the local", apparently anticipating an hour and a half's worth of injury time. "There aren't too many jokes for the jesters" thus far, though, as Vieri's off target again - "Why won't one fly in? Answer my prayers! He's getting no assistance from above, the big man." Big man Vieri or big man God? "I wouldn't be surprised if Bulgaria go and do something silly like snatch a goal" Pleat warns, as if scoring is the stupidest thing anyone can do in football. "You very rarely, if ever, see an Italian side playing like this" Drury admires as Italy stream forward, but "'Vieri can't get there' is becoming the phrase of the tournament for those that follow Italy". See, Italy is "a nation that expects demands", as Mafia kidnappers will appreciate. Oh look, it's 2-2 in the Scandinavian derby, and Drury accordingly invokes Machiavelli. "Goal Cassano! Goal Cassano!" An interesting approach to commentary in the circumstances, especially with a cutaway to celebrating Danish fans, about which Drury comments "what a love-in that will be". Pleat starts stuttering - "2-2... 2-2... two 2-2 draws..." - while Drury right until the end sounds completely flabbergasted, almost as if he had money on Italy to win the tournament. Not that we'd suggest he had, it just sounds like it. "Did you really believe Denmark and Sweden would come up with the very result that would send Italy out?" he underestimates the international brotherhood of conspiracy theorists. "I'm sorry they've gone out - I like Italian food" is Des' helpful contribution to a debate Tyldesley in Porto assures us has little grounding, before a confused England camp discussion ends with Venables referring to different levels of achievable "bonk", to which Des replies "there's bonk and bonk, isn't there?", the offscreen crew audibly pissing themselves as much as the onscreen talent. Perhaps taking their eye off the ball leads to a complete technical breakdown at the end, but it looked like being an England montage anyway. Well, nothing much happened tonight, did it?

TV Review - Monday 21st June - England v Croatia

2004-06-21T13:59:00.001-07:00

"You'd think we'd be used to it by now" is Gary's not hugely comforting words on revealing this is the seventh major tournament in a row in which England have required something from their last group game. Already out by then in 1988, were we? And then he introduces clips of England's rubbishness in this competition, which hardly helps. "I can see you all diving for the remote" is his comment after mentioning France-Switzerland is on Interactive, which is hardly a filip to French/Swiss viewers, or Steve Claridge fans. "I'm slightly surprised you've got a Croatia shirt on" is his wry aside on Ian's red and white check shirt, sandwiched between Peter Reid and Alan, who dubs Croatia "big, strong and average". "We're all going for... Croatia?" is Gary's final shot, Ian either stonewalling him or too concentrated on the game when commenting "it's not even funny". Motty nods to "all those in the pub, especially mine" before bringing up a 10-0 victory in 1946 as some sort of omen. "Stop shaking, Joe Royle!" is his humorous aside before declaring ref Collina "has been in charge of so many great England performances" without actually specifying any. Not that this gets off to a great start, Motson seemingly blaming Ashley Cole for the goal. As will the whole country tomorrow, but never mind. For all the kittens he's having whenever Scholes is near the ball near the box, being "there to miss it" in the classic euphemism, it's not helping, and neither for BBC purposes is the cutaway of Bobby Robson commentating which goes unremarked upon. "Cole was the only England player left back... and he is the left back" is unnecessary, but in a different way to "Eriksson adjusting his spectacles... his glasses". "There's some anxiety, no doubt, at home" he declares, somewhat obviously, but reassuring us with "they're not getting out of their own half, the Croatians", just after James had had to claim a 50:50 ball. Joe Royle states the even more obvious, "we don't need to go two behind at this stage of the game". "Owen's lost possession - well, he didn't really gain it, in a funny way" about sums up the confusion inherent in England's increasingly untidy build-up play, and indeed untidy goal. Not that that matters hugely as Motty shreds his throat and ends that bloody factoid dredged up so many times a game. They're still trying, Royle cataloguing Beckham's fate as "several blocks, a couple of chips, twisted ankle". "ROONEY! Is there nothing he can't do?" Fly unaided, probably, although kudos for probably the longest range goal of the tournament so far. See, not everybody's having trouble with the ball. "I wouldn't be surprised if he got a hat-trick tonight" is Royle's somewhat premature judgement, Alan picking up the hype baton by reckoning his cushioned header back to Scholes was "one of the finest headers I've ever seen". "They've not done this again, have they?" is Gary's reaction at a studio cutaway, Ian screaming and Alan applauding because, he explains, "I was happy for Ian Wright. I'm happy when Ian Wright's happy." Why do they appear not to be watching through the window to the actual pitch? Reid contents himself with wondering how to pronounce Prso. "Remember this name - Johann Vonlanthen!" screams Steve Wilson at Switzerland-France, rather too obviously betraying his sources. "If you were neutral, German TV or something, you'd look at this and think 'English aren't bad, are they?'" ponders Gary, while Motty has wider issues - "As an Evertonian, Joe, can Everton keep him now?" Surely some warning should have been made in advance for that question. Joe refers to the Croatian keeper's "chocolate wrists", which Motty ponders "that's not an expression I've heard too often". Perhaps it goes with Joaquin's "chocolate foot" Mick McCarthy diagnosed last Wednesday. "It would take a massive turnaround for this to go against England" Royle tempts fate, but as Motty says "don't let's get overexcited". Bit late now, surely? Rooney scores the third, Motty reckoning "he might even grab the headlines away from Tim Henman this week", and gets rested, the director on a big close-up of Scholes seemingly investigating his nose when the board goes up, although Motty doesn't miss it - "the noise from the England fans is enormous - even the substitute's applauding". Royle reckons tomorrow's headlines will be "full of R's and O's", which would be something of a misprint. Then a spanner in the works, which takes Motty by surprise, going "oh! It's gone in!" and seeming to take ages to notice no defender was near Tudor. A Chelsea deputation is spotted, which makes Motty wonder "Are they poised to make a bid for Gerrard and Rooney?" Well, they could equally be watching a game while they're out there, checking on Terry and Lampard. They're in luck with the latter, his goal greeted by a Lampard Senior close-up and a shot of a tailor's dummy with the Queen's effigy head stuck on the top and an England shirt on. We don't see the relevance either. Motty gets to feel slightly smug when Collina gives a decision on a foul on James and he confirms he "told you he was a lucky referee for England", then practices his counting - "one more goal and England will equal the five in Munich". Never to be forgotten, that. To a backdrop of imagined "jubliation in a lot of homes and a lot of public places" and a triumphant "France have scored three, England have scored four!" England "fire a four goal salvo" as "Rooney runs riot". He used to be a print sports journalist, you know. Ian declares Rooney "needs an asbestos kit" as he's "on fire", which is surely the last thing a man ablaze needs, and declares his second a "phoom finish". "I think they're big, strong and useless" is Alan's new view of the Croats. Nearly all Garth's questions start "a word about..." Wright's still pumped up, going so far in his Wayne love he even speculates "he looks great in the kit, doesn't he?" and admits "I wish I were amongst them" after very ITV-esque shots of fans in Birmingham, Manchester and, um, Basra. "Can we make toast of the host?" is Gary's weak final effort, but we doubt he bothered thinking about it too much.

Interactive TV Review - Sunday 20th June - Greece v Russia

2004-06-20T16:35:00.000-07:00

(courtesy Adam Keyte)

After five fascinating pre-match minutes listening to Steve Wilson read the Greek team sheet to himself and talk to his director, the Anthems begin and we're underway. "And here's an opportunity, and Russia lead! Inside the first 70 seconds of the game! And it's Gusev with the goal! It's the fastest ever scored in European Championship finals football! And Greece - looking to reach the quarter-finals by avoiding defeat - are behind already!" And Steve needs to stop using a conjunction at the start of his sentences! "And a free header! And another goal! Bulykin! And the Russians lead by two! And Greece are crumbling here on their big night!" Aaargh! Someone buy that man a Good Grammar Guide! "The way it's looking at the moment, Greece are playing to lose the game" says the previously-unnoteworthy Mark Bright, inciting Russian Mafiosos everywhere. "And a great chance - oh, and he's missed it." Kariaka misses a fairly easy chance to make it 3-0, whilst the Greeks go down the other end and Charisteas misses an even easier one. Let's hope Clive Tyldesley isn't here doing the ITV commentary, as the stadium is "full of English flags from every town and shire" again. "And the Russians smell blood here - Bulykin... It's another free header! You cannot believe it!" It grazes off the outside of the post, incidentally. "If Portugal take the lead against Spain, Greece won't be in the next stage." What, so the other game is first goal wins, is it Steve? "And Gusev has won it! Shouldn't have done, but he has!" Shame he does a feeble attempted cross after collecting a long ball so well, really. "Every single thing that could go wrong for Greece is going wrong," says Steve, sweepingly, 10 minutes before half-time. If that were true, surely they'd need to have one of their defenders take a football in the unmentionables, perhaps in a comedy free-kick-comes-back-off-the-crossbar-after-he'd-turned-the-other-way-whilst -stood-in-the-wall style like that old Carling Black Label advert? No? Just me then. "Vryzas! Excellent goal, and exactly what Greece needed!" "He's played onside by...someone in the middle," observes Mark. The ball flies up into the air after a crunching tackle just before half-time. "Don't think in the Algarve it would have come down with snow on it, but it was high!" jokes Steve.

"The matches must start their second halves simultaneously," explains Steve, as the second half kicks-off a good twenty seconds before Spain and Portugal. "Vryzas... Tsiartas... Vryzas... Tsiartas... almost squeezes it through to Vryzas!" Perhaps the most repetitive piece of commentary since Barry Davies sang Dolly Parton at the Sweden v England game in Euro '92 ("Brolin... Brolin... Dahlin... roliiiiiiiin!") "Nuno Gomes has scored for Portugal, they lead Spain by a goal to nil!" "Good news travels fast, doesn't it?" notes Mark. "There was a roar inside the stadium by the Portuguese contingent!" Was there? Someone needs to fix the effects microphones then, because it's been a really flat atmosphere throughout on TV.
Mark is amused by the on-screen caption after Alenichev is booked, informing us he will miss the next game. "Which won't be in this tournament..." agrees Steve. "It'll be a World Cup qualifier, I presume!" deduces Mark. "Never really tore up too many trees at Burnley, but he's had a good season at Panathinaikos," is Steve's considered opinion on the departing Papadopoulos as Nikolaidis comes on for the last 20 minutes. "I've just got the feeling they're looking for another goal, Russia." Really, Mark? "Any interpretation of the offside rule, tweak it how you like - he was offside!" Steve relishes in calling a NIoO-proof decision as Nikolaidis tries to collect the ball whilst standing about half a mile beyond the last Russian defender. About five minutes later, the same player leaves our
commentary team incredulous by beating the offside trap perfectly and
leaving the Russian defence for dead, but luckily for them the keeper comes out to save. "A Russian goal would knock Greece out; a Spanish goal would knock Portugal out." Steve savours the possibilities with ten minutes left. "Corner's much too deep," comments Steve as Tsiartas kicks the set-piece all the way across the pitch and out for a Russian throw-in. "It [chuckles] wasn't even close, was it?" sniggers Mark.
"I've just got the feeling Russia are hanging on a little bit too much for this 2-1 lead." Steve contradicts Mark's earlier feeling.
"What a cross, what a chance - oh, I say! That would have put Greece out!" Kirichenko miskicks a great sliding ball across goal with a couple of minutes to go. "My money is still in my pocket!" declares Steve on 89:15. Not a gambler, then? "And Greece are into the quarter-finals of the European Championship! It is their finest hour! And they have done it by a hair's breadth!"

TV Review - Sunday 20th June - Spain v Portugal

2004-06-20T13:59:00.000-07:00

(Just to note that in the comments boxes Adam Keyte is supplying back-up reviews of other sources - 5 Live's coverage of England-Switzerland, the Claridgeonia of BBC Analysis on Holland-Czech and Eurosport's commentary on France-Croatia)

A game that, as Gary says, "was supposed to be about who would top the group, not who was going out", and there's a lot of pre-match tension in the air, Peter Schmeichel reckoning "the game will be decided on which personality player will beat people", such as starter Cristiano Ronaldo, who is the subject of a question to Gordon Strachan where he goes on about Beckham instead. "On a normal day Spain against Portugal is a big game. This is not a normal day" is Gary's excellent summation before handing to Barry and Lawro. There's a classic Davies expulsion when the Portuguese defence let an early cross they should have dealt with through, met by "goodness me!" Otherwise it's "a really staccato start" marked by uneven refereeing, one decision called by Lawro "good refereeing from Mr Frisk, just after you'd savaged him", to which Baz splutters "savaged is a bit strong - I said it was unusual!" Still, he's giving himself a "good opportunity to warm up both whistles", something he'd spotted at the kick-off, and deploring "another one looking for a free kick. And he's got it." Lawro's on language mangling form, reckoning Raul Bravo was "playing more like Juliet Bravo at the moment" against Ronaldo, who was "having a birthday down that side" meaning "they'll have to check Raul Bravo out at half time for twisted blood". Mmm. There's a classically confusing set of qualification permutations, which "will be explained if necessary. By Gary Lineker." "It's nervy, edgy, cautious - a bit like Alan Hansen on the dancefloor" quips Gary, who runs with the idea when he comments Ronaldo "would quite impress Brucie on Strictly Come Dancing". The corporation man there. "Stick with us, as it's going to get better" is his declaration, and it technically does. "Nuno Gomeshhhhh... it's all changed now!" "What a substitution!" is Lawro's one-liner, having spent the previous few minutes criticising it. Spain try and try - "it's on the roof, on the crossbar and away" - while Lawro's still ploughing an authority furrow - "if you make contact against a player now, Barry, you get a foul given against you". Raul Bravo is required to make a last ditch injury time clearance, notable mostly for Barry calling him "Real Bravo". "They need a goal from somewhere... and they're not going to get it!" Greece may have lost to Russia, whose first goal, according to Mark Bright, was fortunate as Kirichenko "has to stretch as he hasn't got any more legs to get there", but not by enough goals or whatever it was, and "it could be a noisy night in Lisbon - I'm not sure we'll get any sleep". "Portugal reign over Spain - they're on the plane" are the final words, although surely a coach would do.

Hissy fit update

2004-06-20T08:58:00.000-07:00

Christian Vieri slags off the Italian press, which will really help his standing given his performances so far, while Luiz Felipe Scolari refuses to talk to the Spanish press and then gives them the headline quotes anyway - nice to see he's keeping things in perspective - and then compares his side to an 'ugly girlfriend' like a Brazilian Ian Holloway.

TV Review - Saturday 19th June - Czech Republic v Holland

2004-06-19T15:15:00.000-07:00

The stadium is "covered by a huge orange blanket" now, and the pundits seem keen on this game, proved initially right by Holland's goal after what Motty times at "three minutes... and a bit". And then.. New Interpretation Of Offside A Go Go! "I remember when that debate started in the 1994 World Cup" Motty observes, which is about nine years earlier than anyone else remembers it. Perhaps, however, this is what he means when he later comments there are "very clever players on the pitch", although after that what business he has complaining about a later late offside flag is something no-one can pin down. At half time Gary reveals "Mr Wright has not been that excited about the tournament so far", but that attitude hasn't lasted long, especially when a player being wrestled to to the ground inside the box, which Gary called WWF-style, only for Wright to more accurately describe it as "he's having it off with him", and as soon as everyone else has recovered concluding "he's spooning him!" It took some time for Alan and Peter to regain their ability to speak. An England interlude sees Garth Crooks on the hull of a yacht referring to the "skipper", because he's Garth Crooks. After "the referee strolling out with the match ball" the action immediately gets back to its previous pace, not that Joe Royle's noticed, as he's been watching Van Nistelrooy, commenting "he's been offside for most of the time since the second half started" at about 46:45. The camera then swings round to follow a Dutch attack building up, and there's Ruud ball-side of the centre backs. "We're going to see a lot more dodgy defending and more goal chances" is Royle's hope, while Motson goes on about Chelsea and how the Czechs eventually earn "their first booking of the tournament" like anyone really cares. Royle points out Poborsky as we "might not recognise him with the modern haircut", something that couldn't be said of Pierluigi Collina, fourth official tonight and namechecked far more than fourth officials are usually, John stating "when you look him in the face you do wince a bit". Yeah, he's like death, really, isn't he? The Czechs score their second set up by Jan Koller, which makes Joe happy as "I knew I was right when I tried to buy him for Man City". Heinz comes on, Motty careful to note that you don't pronounce his name that way, but when Royle suggests "dare I say Heinz has given them more variety?" he can't help himself but to reply "yes, you can say that. You'd think he'd have 57 on his back, really." Mmm. Shame he's not more decisive with second bookings - "Cocu for a yellow card? It's Heitinga, I think" "He's off" "Oh! It...it's the red card, cos he's had a yellow already." The game is hugely exciting Motson, who nearly loses it at the winner, Royle remaining steadfast claiming "you have to feel sorry for van der Sar" as all around, and sitting next to him for that matter, are losing it. The madness continues - "oh yes, oh no!" as van der Vaart misses, Royle feeling it necessary to point out he's "clearly not offside" when nothing about the move suggested he was. Great game, though, although there is a suspicion everyone is being a little too quick to sing its praises, Gary suggesting it's one of the best games he's ever seen, Alan hailing its "perfection" and Peter dreaming "I hope this is going to come out as an educational video". Unfortunately, they then see fit to break into a set of analysis that could have filled the evening by itself to show a clip from a UEFA referee instructional video, which seems suspiciously like they've had it readily edited for broadcast quality for such an eventuality. Everyone just loses their cool composure in the post-match analysis, from Gary's quip that Karl Bruckner is "the only coach in the tournament old enough to remember Alan Hansen play" to how all the voicing over of the near misses seems to consist entirely of the phrase "what about this?" Gary slips in another "van der Fart - I love saying that", but loses points with a final declaration of "Czech mate", which as the OB fades away we can hear Ian chastising him for. It's that sort of night.

TV Review - Saturday 19th June - Germany v Latvia

2004-06-19T11:03:00.000-07:00

"I think we're going to have some fun" is Des' non-committal preview in a sentence, after the usual 'you never know what could happen'-themed intro and a set of self-indulgent laughter between Des, Tel and Ally. Well, you expect that. Similarly, "how difficult are those names to pronounce?", Ally perhaps satirically pondering "that's why Clive's on 100 grand a week, he's the best in the business at pronouncing those". This is a worldview where Kevin Kuranyi is "the Panamanian, Brazilian, something else". "Some nice scenery here today" Des reckons over pictures of attractive female fans, before repeating "we're in for some fun, I think". Don't count on that as a given just yet, whatever you do. Somewhat ridiculously, Des reckons a Latvian win would "put the cat among those things that live on Trafalgar Square". Is he trying to be poetic at this late stage? "However hot it is for Des and the boys in the studio, it's quite cool out here" Clive reassures us, the 5pm heat being a regular feature of the tournament so far - no more of that after today, of course. To be honest we did drift off at one point during the first half, so we cannot confirm if Tyldesley really did make reference to chatting with Gordon Strachan as we thought we heard, but we definitely heard Andy reckon of Igor Stepanovs' free transfer from Arsenal "I think Arsene Wenger's got it wrong for once". Oh, we think he'll manage without him, just about. His team are "making Germany look equally limited", not that Clive appears to be bothered, going on about the Steven Gerrard stories "in your paper tomorrow" - how does he know? - and calling ITV's rotten interactive service 'a new way of watching football'. What's the actually useful BBC Interactive service or indeed Sky Active, then? Another old favourite turns up when Clive reckons Michael Ballack reminds him of, yes, Wayne Rooney, as "the ball is a friend to him". He's worked up to this so much that a couple of minutes later he tells exactly the same story about Astafjevs at Bristol Rovers in the same way as he did during Latvia-Czech Republic. Andy delights himself with "good ping from Frings" but it's to no avail as Clive ponders "I don't think they have a word in Latvia for lost cause". "Germany is not a nation of fingernails at the moment" is spectacularly obtuse, "Klose... it was not even close" just dreadful. Odd moment of language conjugation in injury time as Verpakovskis is subbed and Clive opines "I hate to coin my phrase, but do remember his name". Of course this is a reference to "remember the name, Wayne Rooney!" the season before last, alluded to on Thursday as now "all of Europe will remember the name". If he calls his autobiography Remember My Name, we will not be responsible for our actions. Still, "National pride for Latvia, national embarrassment for Germany" about sums it up, bar Ally and Tel exploding at Mike Riley turning down two decent Latvian penalty shouts, their shouting echoing off the studio walls - would they do that for a non-English manager?

TV Review - Friday 18th June - Italy v Sweden

2004-06-18T15:39:00.000-07:00

It's ITV. It starts with England, which gives the lie to Des' opening point to Sir Bobby, "we're looking forward to this game almost more than all the others", Robson going on to praise how Ibrahimovic can "play football". Always helpful, you feel. "Italy have yet to win" announces Jon Champion, like they've played eight games. Memories of Ivan Zamorano in 1998 are brought up by the mike catching Rino Gattuso belting out the Italian anthem. "With apologies to Francesco Totti, this promises to be a rare old spat" - thinks he's clever now, does he?
"I always feel sorry for Italian centre backs, the way they're so bullied, Jim" after Beglin had referred to their instruction to keep it tight would suggest so, his reaction to the goal - "the brightest young thing in the firmament of Italian football lights the flame under their challenge" - even more so. Do we think he really came up with that off his own back? We fear so. "I told you you'd see some class tonight, and you are" is Des' less than reassuring verdict, as it's been the sort of night Barry and co were complaining about the one-sidedness of the previous night. At half time we get Brian Kilcline dressed as a carrot in a Fantasy Football trailer, which under the circumstances seems right. Jon's still trying it on - "Zambrotta getting foward - like that old international who played for Liverpool at right back, remember him?" Francesco Totti appears to be getting a lot of cutaways sitting alongside his lovely female partner (ah, that'll be it) as a "galaxy" of Swedish attacks come to nought until... "OH, IT'S CREPT IN!" OK, Jon, the mike's right in front of you. "That could earn Sweden a place in the quarter-finals, and that could earn Ibrahimovic a lucrative move to Italy!" Yeah, as long as he knows what's important. Great goal, though, and one Jon oddly doesn't notice the provenance of until the replay - how does he think it went in with Ibrahimovic and Buffon face to face, then? "I'm thinking of France-England again" says Jim with five minutes left. "Do stay with us for our version of Fantasy Football" Jon illogically trails, before commenting of Italy "they're like a nasty bit of mud on your shoe that you can't shake off. It was mud, wasn't it?" "It was dog dirt" Jim corrects, ruining the gag, such as it was. There's lots of shouting off-camera while an unnamed, unrecognisable man tries to interview Henrik Larsson, Bobby criticises Ibrahimovic's "head work", and as a no doubt pleasing to many final clip from a game surely analysed in every minute detail over the last five days, we get two replays of Zidane being sick while preparing for the penalty, Des attempting to distance himself from the clip as far as possible ("it seems we had to show it" apparently) ITV - good taste all round.

TV Review - Friday 18th June - Bulgaria v Denmark

2004-06-18T10:58:00.000-07:00

Gary's on a beach! Because the Danes were on their holidays when they were let into Euro 92, you see. Well, memories of twelve years ago, Lineker pulling a stupid face or not, must be more of a selling point than that fixture at face value. Yes, we do get the dramatic/delightful business. Peter pops up next to him just to hammer the point home. Back to the studio, there's some comedic shaking business which makes Gordon look at both of them more askance than usual ahead of an unfollowable anecdote about missing Sweden-Bulgaria due to being in a car five minutes away with, or possibly watching, "dumb and dumber". Ian feels sorry for the Braga stadium's ball boys, "ball goats today" Gordon suggests. Because it's blasted out of rock, you see? Ian tips Bulgaria to wind Peter up, who points out "you've been going on about Denmark all day", Gary ungallantly suggesting "that's the history between them creeping back in". "Not sure which is the away end" Steve Wilson curiously questions, after the anthems, the Bulgarian one of which he nearly talks all over, adding "I'm not sure whose land is the nicest, but we're about to find out whose team is the best". Maybe he's in a private competition with Barry for flowery language, given within the first minute he's managed "like this stadium, Thomas Gravesen was quarried rather than born." "This is international football, you can't do that" Mark Bright opines over footage of Thomas Gravesen wrestling someone to the floor, as if it's OK at club level. Wilson's tendency to shout sentences at often random points ("GOOD CROSS!") is in evidence, as is Mark Bright's ability to state the obvious. Wilson moves Johan Mjallby to Aston Villa without his knowledge, which we're sure really delighted Scottish viewers. "One goal is an absolute minimum requirement" Steve reckons, brave words after the first goal. "I was starting to wonder why on earth you persuaded us to do this game" Gary asks of Schmeichel rather than Peter Salmon at half time. He's in that sort of mood, adding "the mountains behind the goal were moving faster - quite exciting, though, as I think I saw an osprey." Go on, Logan, conjugate ospreys. The second half's commencement is held up by a man dressed as an undertaker pointing to his watch, Wilson speculating "we could have had some more from the boys", Mark bringing him to his senses "that was quite sufficient". There's one thought that unified commentator, co-commentator and viewer alike, summed up early in the half with "hallelujah, Bulgaria are going to bring a striker on", which turned out to be false hope. "Big hat, big frown!" Wilson and Bright, as Strachan puts it afterwards, are thinking about going "on top of that cliff", so poor are Bulgaria even when their "best scoring opportunity is wearing a red shirt", both breaking with protocol to denounce theirs as "one of the poorest displays I've ever seen" (Bright) and "absolutely woeful" (Wilson). Schmeichel even feels the need to apologise to the viewers. We get more junior ball jugglers at the end, Gary, before a reference to Quidditch, calling this "the only bit of skill we've seen". Fair comment.

TV Review - Thursday 17th June - France v Croatia

2004-06-17T14:00:00.000-07:00

Not wanting to waste time, we get the England goals straight off the bat ("the teenage terror"?) Hansen reckons they played "brilliantly", which is more than most Englishmen will think. That polished off in four minutes, about three times less than ITV would in that position, we get onto the mutual French appreciation society, Ian referring to his "mate in the camp", who may be Thierry himself, and seemingly suggesting to Alan that Zidane would "bite your legs". "In a perfect world France would win 6-0 here" is Alan's verdict. Lawro and Barry debate whether ref Kim Milton Neilsen is naturally bald or has a crew cut before settling down into a game where one team, as for large parts of the England game, one team is so dominant in possession without actually doing anything that, according to Lawro, "I end up counting the number of players - I'm sure there's 15 sometimes." After a foul on Zidane lasts about 25 yards Lawro's in natural ecstasy - "What an absolutely fantastic stepover... Wait till you see this. (pause) Maybe you won't." Ah, the wiles of local directors. "Love to show you the replay of a foul, don't they?" he rhetorically asks a minute later, still fuming silently. We do get hundreds of replays of the goal, just to check who got the last touch you understand. We imagine Barry would have exploded if Gallas hadn't screwed up a straight header from four yards after Zidane's flick ("nonchalance par excellance!" "Ah oui"), but at least nobody cared about it. "You can purr, but you're not quite on the edge of your seat" is Barry's somewhat downbeat opinion - hang on, you were relishing the prospect of a hammering earlier! The similarly themed punditry is briefly enlivened by chanting fans right outside the window, greeted by a "you can go away, chaps, if you like" from Gary. "You can mock Tudor if you want" is much smarter, Strachan accusing the Croatian of being "untidy". How did Gordon get to speak to David Beckham? Much is made of a "bad touch" in a Zidane montage, while conversely 'CROATIAN CAUTION' gets a clip of its own. Motson pops up on a mighty satellite delay to expand on his commentary thought with "the teenage terror made the Swiss roll". Barry gets his wish in the second half, and "I don't want to be anti-French, but it's what the game needed... "do they now go back to trying to defend to get a point out of it?" "Absolute certainty" replies Lawro with no small amount of, well, certainly. Cue... 2-1. And still he moans, this time "the need to replay free kicks is something the director clearly loves". And on - "I've seen everything now, a replay of the referee showing the yellow card" He'd already missed one. And hurrah, after 68 minutes we get the first sustained complaint about The New Interpretation Of Offside, although it did seem to be against Zidane when Henry was dribbling past him. This shouldn't mark Lawro out as the purest application of sense in punditry, though, given the moment when he takes his turn to pass comment on the ball - "It's a disco ball, isn't it? When you were in discos in the 70s you'd see those." Er, yeah. "Well claimed..." Barry praises Barthez just as he collides with his own defender and lets go of the ball. It's that kind of second half for France, also summed up by "a turn that left Henry on his backside!" Lawro declares two Croatians taking each other out "an oof moment", which Croatia nearly have a more tangible version of right at the death. Afterwards, among general incredulousness, Gary links into "our own cameras" catching Zidane's impromptu team meeting which Gordon reckons is him telling the others they can't rely on him again, to which Ian does a hair loss joke. Gary raises the tone with the observation "I don't know if UEFA have a new directive about the backpass rule, maybe you have to do one against France now", and then ruins it with "he (Mornar) must have springy shinpads". Mmm. After the England highlights again Wright declares the second Rooney's as "he's hit the shot". There's a new Sport Relief trailer with Ron Manager and David Beckham hoping that if he sits there long enough it'll finish quicker, after which Ian criticises the tournament so far, which they should really have mentioned earlier. Been quite good today though, all told.

When all is going well for your side...

2004-06-17T11:18:00.000-07:00

...a truly outstanding coach has to find something to complain about. Therefore, Greece's Otto Rehhagel complains about the colour of the nets. Must be a big Subbuteo fan.

TV Review - Thursday 17th June - England v Switzerland

2004-06-17T11:05:00.000-07:00

"We're starting early - well, it's a bit important." After a week so full of blame, backlash and recrimination that you wonder what half the nation would have done for the previous three days had England hung on for 1-0, you imagine that this hour's build-up might have been a bit full of filler had they come into this with three points. Instead, it's a potential "air tickets, Wednesday, whoosh", as Des puts it. "This has got to be one of the easier internationals, hasn't it?" - look, ITV, we've just warned you about tempting fate. Andy really pushes it by stating "I just can't make a case for England losing this game". "I hate to put you through it again, but I fear I must" is Des' intro to the slo-mo France game edit over classical music. We don't think we've ever seen a man as underwhelmed as when Matt tells Frank Lampard how many games he's played this season. "Do you feel he's modelled himself on you, Andy" is the unamusing Des question afterwards, while a distracting graphic in the bottom right corner runs off the England team and Terry refers to "Yakan Hakin". There's decent time to give Totti another slagging, Terry particularly unhappy with just a ban, asking "what happens if he comes back for the final and scores the winner?" We watch the final on BBC1, that's what. Jorg Stiel is introduced as a character, and Gabriel Clarke's going to run with that idea as long and as far as possible - "louder than Elton John's wardrobe", "could be Wayne Rooney's dad", you know the drill. He actually appears to be as mad as Norman Tebbit. Then, head for the hills, it's Ned Boulting in Switzerland! The report thus compiled features the most surprised vox pop subjects ever, Ned's taxi driver referring to 'Ronio', some mucking around with newspapers and, less expectedly, Matthew Pinsent. This is followed by the goals from the 1996 meeting, Tel and Gareth choi-hoking each other about Southgate's poor defensive header. Sir Bobby in position has a "good impression" of the game, if not of the team, judging by "Terry's going to play with... Terry with... Sol Campbell", or of the heat, claiming "we can't play at breakneck speed like we do in January". There's a lot being made of the heat, because of course the Swiss will be used to that, the country being in the middle of the Azores. Brilliantly, the competition clip is the same Shearer goal that's just been shown. The relevance of the montage shown with about half an hour to go, of random clips and shots of, naturally, Big Ben is beyond us. Southgate seemingly uses the phrase 'against the French' twice for each player during his England team rundown. The Ibrahimovic internal comedy returns, while Gareth Southgate, who plays no part in such things, continues his oddly decent (for ITV, yes) run of punditry form in explaining how Sven works with the preceding caveat "I'd hope to play for England again". Des thinks it'll finish "three-nought". Nought? Ah, cameras in a different pub this time. Don't hope to get on television properly, you lot. Sven gives his own "welcome back" in introducing his team, although we're not sure what this is meant to prove - we know what they look like, after all. "Nancy's here, we'll be alright." Mmm.

"When you look out there it's like thumbing through the index of a book of England road maps" is Clive's way of setting the scene, although surely that'd be full of names of road maps rather than towns. Clive sounds almost desperate on the team's behalf, if, as usual, chancing hindsight - "is there a single name on the other side that Sven or any of you would want on our team?" "If you've been wondering what the diamond is..." - oh, I think we can guess. "Looks like James Beattie, doesn't he?", Clive's thought about Huegel, is met by a typical Sir Bobby response, "yes, looks like him... probably doesn't play like him." "Looking every inch the Manchester City keeper today" - what, Clive, questionable? The England band appear to be miked up louder than the rest of the crowd. "If anybody out there was underestimating Switzerland before kickoff..." Yes, Clive? You may like to read a little back at this point. It certainly beats the opening minutes, in which Clive goes for the world record for alternate ways of saying 'they're playing like shit' and Steven Gerrard nearly proves why he should never help out in defence again. Clive gets so bored he works the presence of a Russian linesman in... and thirty seconds later Rooney scores. Is it just us, or does Sir Bobby say 'flag up' (it wasn't) as he runs off to somersault? The presence of Scholes possibly offside (probably level, looking at the half-time replay, actually, but we wanted to keep this line in, so there) is perhaps the worst news for people like us who have to listen to punditry and read football message boards, of course. "It's a hot day to be chasing a game!" That gets them mildly intrigued, Robson going "he's in, he's in" just as Owen fails to get 'in' at all. No wonder he seems to spend the rest of the half asleep, even when talking. "It's in that area, isn't it?" is the inevitable response to Switzerland getting a free kick just outside the area, taken and missed by one of "the Hakan brothers". We'll all remember that Robsonism, won't we? At least the panel doesn't follow recent panel one-eyedness and criticises all areas of the performance even though England are leading, but into the second half they continue "coughing up possession". Our attention is luckily taken by a St George's flag with 'STEVE SCOTT' on the top left white bit, leading to speculation whether the erstwhile ITV News and former Five football anchor had made his own way to Coimbra. It's not being much taken away by the game, after all, and the team in the box seem to think so too, lapsing into almost gallows humour - "it'd be nice to see England string half a dozen passes together" "I said three!" Tyldesley even seems not to twig Haas' second booking for a while, while Robson seems to have been stunned into silence. "It's a great benefit to us... but I wouldn't like an English player to be sent off under those circumstances" is his eventual summation, while Clive works it round to Ronaldinho's dismissal two years ago. Is there any altruism at all in Bobby's thought that Dyer should come on, which extends so much he feels moved to compensate by praising Hargreaves? "You can sit down at home - try to enjoy the last fifteen minutes" is the verdict after the second goal, "a scoreline, if not a performance, which will make the rest of Europe take notice" after the third. Robson reckons Lampard has "cut a lot of grass", while Clive nicely tells us a challenge on Hargreaves "doesn't look too good" just too late for the super slo-mo. Maybe, actually, Clive is learning from past mistakes, feeling it necessary to add a caveat "if they win this match" when, with an eye on the group table, suggesting we "cheer for the French tonight - go on, you can do it". Firing a broadside to the rest of Europe that they are possibly the best footballing side in the tournament when 3-0 up, even Bobby suggests he "can't see them possibly conceding". Yeah, hubris is all very well and good this late in the day, isn't it? "The campaign for Europe begins here" Clive inaccurately states in conclusion, adding "the England players have their destiny at their own feet". It's the 1982 World Cup song! They seem to be rushing through the post-match with indecent haste but then Des declares the news will follow, so who knows. It does, five minutes later, after, um, a joke about Sven's animation quotient. So not reaching at all, then. So the Curse Of ITV is broken, and we never have to see them again on the channel this tournament. Let's hope the VT editors are paid well nevertheless.

Armchair Football subscribers

2004-06-16T14:39:00.000-07:00

It'll be sent out tomorrow, after the France-Switzerland game. OK?

TV Review - Wednesday 16th June - Russia v Portugal

2004-06-16T13:56:00.000-07:00

Look, lads, it's Gabby's legs! Unfortunately it's also Gabby's producer losing the plot, as eleven Logans line up in Portuguese kit to show how they carry the hopes of the nation. Somehow. Don't ask us, we're just the viewer. "I can't believe that start of the show" Ally comments, although not like that. Still, could have been England again. "We're neutral here, but we really, really want Portugal to go through, don't we?" Gabby finishes, spoken like a true half-Welsh woman with belt loops on her shirtsleeves. "They are the twelth man" she illogically states of the home fans. Ah, Peter, namechecking the anthems again in a part that lasts two minutes. You'd think with a break that ended as the players came out would negate the need for another before the kick-off, but... "Did ever a nation need that!" Quite often, we'd imagine, but never mind, they seem happy enough with "a goal which the crowd simply insisted". Drury seems very keen on this whole 'how Portugal feels' idea in a way TV types never usually do outside Euro 96, as well as finding room to remember Russia-Wales - how would Wales have been treated by ITV had they qualified, do you think? Anyway, Portugal are busy "having fun in an area where fun is normally prohibited" and Drury is namechecking Ledley King while Pleat dismisses refereeing standards as "finicky". Pleat then starts reeling off facts about Georgi Yartsev, which we thought was the commentator's job, commenting "it was a shock when he was offered the job, I don't know how he'll feel when he loses the job". Yes, David. Peter ignores a England v Switzerland promo graphic and then plugs it anyway a minute later. "His nickname is 'loss' (or something similar - Ed), which means loose - not sure whether that's a compliment or not." Izmailov "wants to come to England, if anyone's interested" Pleat touts, sounding a little too much like he had a go before Santini threw him out. "Three days after England lost to France here, 18 days before England beat France here in the final..." Yes, thank you. The former was the best game for "tempo", David reckons. Right you are, then. Amazingly Drury doesn't mention You Know Who when Russia get a free kick just outside the box at the end of the first half, but makes up for it by reckoning Kariaka "took out the big bertha and found the woods". Ovchinnikov's handball outside the box, greeted with undue amazement and some self-imposed delay in departing by the Russian keeper and tut-tutting by Drury ("remember, they were on a disciplinary warning after the first game" - this before the Russian fan chose to make his protest by approaching the sub keeper on the touchline for reasons best known to themselves), leads to a free kick that sees him re-establish Zidane comparison contact. After that was missed "his only option was to take that goal kick", apparently. See, he knows the rules. "I'm not having it" harrumphs Ally at half-time, while Andy is virtually personally offended, claiming "he has to be 100% sure", as if he knew there was some doubt in the ref's mind. "The linesman didn't raise his flag" Gabby offers, not hugely surprising as the linesman was on the blind side. Andy's rage continues with the belief Totti's spit "could cause a twenty man brawl". It didn't, though, did it? Ally and Peter then have a set-piece argument that dissolves into self-indulgent chuckling, as ever, which may explain why Drury went on to lose the plot completely.
"On this day in 1963 the Russians put the first woman into space, and if they win... well, it'd be just as great a feat." Even he lost faith in that line halfway through, perhaps explaining why he then went all reasonable re the handball-or-not. Indeed, Loskov may well have been "taking charge, shaking others up" but it wasn't doing them that much good, let alone Costinha, hit by a free kick. "One taste of that magical Zidane" is Pleat's summing up of the quality of free kicks, an issue you may find nit-picking but we recall being a big talking point in France 98. Drury, fresh from describing Ronaldo's best quality as how he "makes football fun, and isn't that the point?" - er, no - describes a Portuguese player as "vivacious" and Pleat a Russian as "supposed to be a very moody player", which Drury tops with the news he's "the son of two professional volleyball players - there's a bit of spike about him". That rendered Pleat speechless. Indeed, is Drury losing his impartiality? "It really ought not to be like this" as Russia go forward is hardly the thoughts of an even handed man, as aren't "they're hanging on when they should be comfortable". "I'm sure you hardly need telling they (oh, guess) play Switzerland tomorrow" - so why do so? It's the 86th minute, producer! Soon enough "the hosts, finally, are happy", as is Peter. Why has Luis Figo been doing the English post-match interviews? He's hardly better than Rafa Benitez at the language. "Apparently there's a big match tomorrow" is Gabby's offering on England, followed by "I might be a bit pushy here, but if I were you I'd find an excuse to get in front of the telly tomorrow". But of course she'd never take after Des. They'd never get shorts in his size, for a start.

TV Review - Wednesday 16th June - Spain v Greece

2004-06-16T10:57:00.000-07:00

You'd think someone would have made the Greece win/Olympics connection before now, wouldn't you? "Greece is the word" and "Spain reign" are the first two of a feared avalanche of bad puns. Peter Schmeichel supposedly tipping Russia makes two return appearances, but less expected was Gary quoting Inaki Saez as wanting "sexy football", leading Ian to needlessly comment "I'm looking for a bit more to turn me on" before trying to chase Peter down for an opinion on how the game will turn out, which he immediately changes. "In the last four days we have seen the winners of Euro 2004" Steve Wilson sums up, standing up much as the commentators were yesterday alongside Mick McCarthy, whose unique approach to sentence building and seeming drinking from Peter Reid's tap on 5 Live the previous day has been much remarked upon. We're not stating whether this had any bearing on the moment he called Wilson "Mark", not that Steve did himself any favours with "Zagorakis is going to get a yellow card... or at least a talking to." For no reason whatsoever a '58 DAYS TO ATHENS' graphic, which Wilson refers to, pops up under the scoreline - less obstructive than ITV's million big top left hand corner DOGs a game, but still no need for it. Mick points out Helguera's shot from a free kick actually goes away from goal ("he's had a nosebleed" as Hansen would put it), but eventually Morientes scores after a mistake Mick "can't see who made that" even though Wilson has just named Michalis Kapsis as the guilty party. Steve then sticks his neck out with "they look a good side". News of Francesco Totti's charge comes in, and we get the incident in glorious teatime slo-mo followed by Lineker giving it the full "you swallow it". When did Wayne Rooney get clearance to start doing piles of interviews and promo activity? The less said about the kid doing kick-ups the better. Back at thhe game, what does "Raul is the only man in the penalty area, but he's often enough" mean? Mick adjudges the resulting header "a great effort... a great chance, but a poor effort" before spotting "a clip on the chin" and still getting hugely irate at a Greek player getting up as the Spaniards were putting the ball out. Worth noting the referee at an injury break signalling for a water bottle in the Peter Kay 'drink?' style. "And Casillas..." Wilson seems to lose the flight of the ball at a Greek corner but caught the Charisteas goal just in time, straining to be heard among the fans. "What have Spain got in their locker now?" McCarthy virtually calls for Charisteas' public execution for being helped off the pitch after injury before launching into the old favourite about "the craziest ruling". He goes on to talk about Joaquin's "chocolate foot". "Never seen a weirder way of whistling" is how Steve greets the final, well, whistle. Gary "tries to make an excuse" by suggesting Raul's easy header missed because the sun was in his eyes. "They'll be dancing on the slopes of Mount Olympus tonight" is at least original. And no, we didn't get that threatened pun avalanche at all, so be grateful for small mercies.

Before we start...

2004-06-16T08:03:00.000-07:00

...has this site been mentioned somewhere notable today? We'd managed to break our one day hits record by lunchtime, and you wouldn't believe the number of people sticking 'Lisbonic Plague' through Google. Can anyone enlighten us via the comments form?

TV Review - Tuesday 15th June - Germany v Holland

2004-06-15T14:01:00.000-07:00

"Two countries who are very close together, but a long way apart" is Gary's perfect description of the sides, followed by a great long montage featuring much archive footage and classical music. Now, Clive, that's how you build up the excitement. "This is a proper game, isn't it?" is Gary's opening gambit, Alan falling back on classic cliches - "organisation", "technical", "sea of orange". "It's not like England v Scotland, where the little country secretly admires the bigger?" is Gary's latest method to wind up Strachan, before he declares "I'm writing off the Germans!" "Ballack's... probably Germany's best player, isn't he?" is extraordinarily brave with the gap, but then the editing team let themselves down by presenting his World Cup semi-final booking as an example of what he's about. Much of the end of the pre-game analysis is drowned out by booing outside. CommentatorCam's back, Motty standing up next to Lawro and brandishing cushions as "it's hard to see the touchline", then wisely keeping quiet at the huge roar that greets the teams. "Oliver Kahn looked very serious in the line-up - the last time he looked like that England won 5-1" You know that for certain, do you? "Franz Beckenbauer... next to Johan Cruyff, how about that? The two World Cup captains sitting together", even though there's a massive block of seats and a couple of hangers-on between them. Motson seemed carried away with the excitement of the event, even surprised when Germany scored. The order of directorial cuts, in case you're wondering : Voller, fans, van der Sar, only then Frings. Motty brings up a David Beckham free kick as a reference point, just so the viewer had something to compare it to. Lawro relates a conversation twixt Kaiser and Lineker while Motson reckons Holland losing their first game of the championships and then going on to win it in 1988 "might be a good omen for England". Yes, and Bulgaria, Latvia and Russia too. Motty decides to point out Patrick Kluivert at half-time, while Alan wisecracks "lucky we all went for the Germans, isn't it?" The studio pundits are on form, skilfully taking apart Holland's defending, hiring Gordon Strachan has worked out very well, and even the BBC's own Frank Lampard pre-recorded interview works out better than that ITV did, due to Gary asking better questions that mean his vision of a 'French Franked In Euros' headline had the game stayed 1-0 can be overlooked. See, not that difficult, is it? We're not entirely sure he didn't refer to 'van der Fart', actually, but again we'll give him the benefit of the doubt. In the second half Motty goes mad when "a mistake let Ballack in!", only for the defender to have the ball back before the sentence has finished. It's a minor positive in "one of the most dismal performances I've seen from a Holland side". Indeed, "the quality of football in this match is not as good as in England-France so far". Always needs something to measure against, John. With Germany "still looking the better side... well, the only ones looking like a side", Lawro praises Kahn's "strong wrists" and Motson reckons Cocu "is at odds with himself". This is what they mean by 'football talk', we take it. "Absolutely typical van Nistelrooy" stepped in eventually, although van Hooydonk subsequently failed to "do a Zidane" - please, not this allusion for the whole rest of the tournament, commentators everywhere. Motson's first comment on the final whistle, "he had a good match, in my opinion, the referee", told a lot. After previewing a game that was sure to be full of free-flowing, fancy, attacking football, the panel talked up long balls to a big man up front, Lineker using his experience under Cruyff as illustration. As Ruud obligingly reveals the Czech-Latvia score just before the highlights are shown ("if you didn't know the score, you do now, Ruud's just told you") and Gordon bemoans being stuck in a taxi among "40,000 sweaty Dutch people", Gary attempts a Hansen impression and we finish off the first section of the first round. What a curious trip it already is.

Worse England anthem than Come On England found

2004-06-15T13:37:00.000-07:00

"He like everyone else was fed up of the poor excuses for football songs being released in the run up to Euro 2004." Doesn't mean he should add to them, though

The art of keeping a settled squad

2004-06-15T11:14:00.000-07:00

Alexander Mostovoi sent home for suggesting Russia trained too much; Patrick Kluivert decides, Seedorf having slagged off Advocaat last week and remained in team contention, he'd better step in and fire barbs at everyone he can think of

TV Review - Tuesday 15th June - Czech Republic v Latvia

2004-06-15T11:03:00.000-07:00

Is it our imagination, or have ITV nicked the BBC's satellite image zoom idea? England camp before any dicussion of the game, of course, Frank Lampard interviewed and having no more clue about Nicky Butt's circumstances than anyone else has. Robbie Earle, with Gabby and Ally in an echoey studio, confirms he was a useful player "as a young boy", reminding us of Jonathan Pearce's comments a few months ago about having followed Scott Parker's career since he was in the McDonalds advert, before he and Gabby decide UEFA not allowing a replacement for Butt is something akin to an outrage. "A very colourful stadium, isn't it" Gabby eventually notices. Don't run with the They Won Eurovision You Know line, Dave Beckett! Gabby chooses to "remind ourselves" of the Latvian line-up as if they're all household names. Clive has his big book of Latvian facts and figures out - "time to hear a new national anthem!", which appears to be God Save The Queen played at 33rpm. You know what we're going to scream next. "It's hotter than England" Clive declares on the coldest day for a couple of weeks before declaring it "the FA Cup tie of the first two weeks". No, Clive, it's a European Championship game. "In the season of Millwall and Monaco, anything's possible", but nobody really means it. As ever, Andy Townsend sounds like he's co-commentating on a Playstation game rather than live actuality, advising Latvia "don't miss the day", which must have really helped, but hey, he can speak like a punter too - "I spoke to Gary Johnson, right..." Once Tyldesley has established of Poborsky that "the hair has gone", unsurprisingly a recurring motif, two main themes emerge throughout the first half, the fish out of water nature of the Latvians - "this is not your typical Riga day" - who Clive refers to as "in the all red kit" ten minutes in, and the assurance that eventually goals will come. Unless they frustratingly don't. It takes 32 minutes for Clive and Andy to bring up the ball, if you're keeping count, and Andy throws in a Zidane reference to boot. Have you noticed how ITV always go on about the interactive option, featuring the news off Teletext and basic stats, whereas you have to read the publicity in full to know about the excellent BBC service? One for the teenagers as Clive refers to watching Jan Koller as "like Fred Dibnah at work", later reffering to a foul as "like WWF - the one where they come out of the corner". Given away by his knowledge there. Describing Astafjevs' luck at Bristol Rovers he also claims "he brought an albatross with him". What, as hand luggage? So then Latvia go and score, and Clive briefly sounds like he's trying to give birth. "If you stepped out to make a cup of tea before half time..." is Gabby's angle, while Ally comments "sometimes he (Koller) looks like he's towing a caravan", which explains the lax marking at times. Perhaps this explains why Robbie reckons Latvia "haven't come here on a sightseeing trip". Of course they find an England flag, Gabby unfathomably suggesting the owners may be "brushing up on their reading, or there may be Latvians learning English." For reasons best known to the ITV production team Clive and Robbie indulge in some crosstalk about "Earley" scoring for Jamaica six years previously in relation to the "improbable goal", nearly doubled by Verpakovskis' 25 yarder just wide, greeted "why not... WHY NOT?" before reaching for the old amusing spelling favourite, suggesting if he scored the winner it would be "a task for the Sun sub-editors - I've set you a test there, boys". He should have given a text number out at that. "It's not gonna happen, you know" after another failed Czech attack was just tempting fate with 20 minutes left, and you'd think he'd have learnt about that after the suggestions Arsenal and Spurs wouldn't be able to move for '1-0' chants a good half hour before the end on Sunday. Except this time it took just two minutes. "Somebody got a hand on the ball...", for which Andy criticises Petr Cech for as he ran out of goal and didn't make contact with the ball, albeit because Marian Pahars had punched it past him. "2-1 Czech Renum... Czech Republic!" With a minute left Andy discusses the virtues of hanging on, at which Clive chides "will you be quiet, the England boys are listening!" To ITV? That must be an interesting satellite set-up. Do they get all the ITV commentaries to go with the faux-flag backdrop they used a lot on Sunday, or just whatever's being broadcast to us? At the end "the dark horses are still galloping", inevitably, and as Gabby consoles some pointlessly crying Latvian fans "they've always got the Eurovision Song Contest to look forward to." Latvia on ITV, then - patronising to the last.

TV Review - Monday 14th June - Sweden v Bulgaria

2004-06-14T11:02:00.001-07:00

Well, ITV have already got the trailer sorted for Thursday at least - shots from that pub they had cameras in on Sunday. Those scenes aren't going to become iconic, you know. "I hope you're not in terminal decline" Des starts. We've had a game since then, cheers. "How are you doing, my friend?" asks a Dane, and Andy answers with a piece of film which appears to show Cole being torn between going back and staying where he is, the sort of thing you'd only notice if you've been watching the tape constantly for half a day, or maybe this was what Rick Waumsley meant when he said Andy sees things viewers might not appreciate otherwise. They don't note that Cole was being motioned towards the opposite post to where Zidane struck it to, but then they are too busy ripping off Soccer AM's Third Eye - with an arrow and everything - by showing a motionless England fan in the France end. "We've got a match on here" Des finally notices - no highlights from earlier or analysis that amounts to anything more than a passing reference that both sides have decent strikers, but of course we get the competition. Just as McDonalds start trailing their involvement in the Kid Escort scheme, the directors cut them right out of the picture on the anthem line-ups. Jon Champion's commentating, making it to five minutes before invoking 1994 and telling us the details of Mike Riley's first ever game as ref. That bonhomie doesn't last that long. "Has Mike Riley adjudged that to be a foul? If he has done, that's got to be a penalty!" A limited knowledge of the rules there, as an indirect free kick is awarded. "I don't know, Jim, the standard of full back play these days..." Jon seems surprised that Sweden are attacking, although not as much as we are that some of the crowd seem to have kazoos at hand. "Half an hour gone, and it's not half bad", but that's seconds before a Swede foul throws. "Did you never do that, Jim? (pause) Silence doesn't work on the television." Then "Sweden's best dressed man" scores, and we're off. We hadn't noticed before that the set features a player from each side behind Andy Townsend's head, which is far better than looking at him, or indeed listening to Des and Steve McClaren's patball of an interview. Everyone seems to be pronouncing Ibrahimovic's name to rhyme with Chelsea's owner. "At least this keeper is more open about his baldness" says Jon, seemingly wanting to start a small-scale pub conversation about Bobby Mihailov. It was a hair transplant rather than a rug, wasn't it? Beglin invents the 'wide ringer' position, which is from about where the cross came in for Sweden's excellent second, his second leading Champion to refer to "that famous third place play-off in the Pasadena Rose Bowl". Jon decides that people don't rate Larsson as he only scores goals in the SPL, somewhat ignoring Celtic's UEFA Cup runs and his past international record. Sadly Jon fails to comment on the Swede wearing the biggest wig in the world, preferring instead to provide a Drury-style comment in the absence of goals from his game : "after being pained and thrilled last night, Henrik Larsson's regally entertaining us tonight." "And we've come full circle!" as Sweden score their fourth - was he with 5 Live in 1994? He seems to have well implanted memories of that World Cup. "Bulgaria not as bad as this scoreline will suggest, Sweden not as good" is his opinion, perhaps going against popular views of the previous night's game, even before "Sweden complete a nap hand". At least he didn't mention goals in extra time. There's a "easy for you to say" about Ibrahimovic to Des from Andy, who remembers his corporation status and refers to Gordon Ramsey with reference to the third goal. "I wish England had him" Des pointlessly states about Zlatan, to which Andy reminds him "not gonna happen", to which of *course* Terry laughs, before adding Mike Riley "brings some Premiership controversy to the proceedings", as if that's the be all and end all of game interpretation and declaring Bulgaria "towelled it". More pointless laughter at the heat, which is about the level. And the coverage of two games ends with highlights... of England. What will they do when the Beeb get all the live coverage after the Swiss game to pass the time?

TV Review - Monday 14th June - Denmark v Italy

2004-06-14T11:02:00.000-07:00

It was good, we thought, for ITV's coverage of Denmark-Italy to start cosmopolitainly with a full demonstration of the skill and tactical nous we could expect from the game ahead. Only joking! Highlights and discussion of "an Anglo-French drama with a shocking twist" for ages, of course. Ally, beaded with sweat, reckons both sides would have been unlucky to lose, which is about the level of the tactical conversation raging the nation that's reflected here. Robbie, needless to say, doesn't wonder why Rooney didn't square it to Vassell. Back on with the day's game Gabriel Clarke refers to Italy's "groomers and shakers" under "personal trainer Trappatoni", which more than deserves the cold reaction he gets from Christian Vieri. Some woman from RAI talks about sex regulations, which surely isn't the way forward at what's usually CITV time. Gabby refers to Denmark as "a team we know quite well as a lot of them ply their trade here", accompanied by a team graphic featuring one British based player. Are we going to get a pre-match montage for every game? "Today someone else does the suffering... give your St George's flag a lie down... the sharp blue shirt of Italy, so evocative of a major competition." Peter Drury, ladies and gentlemen, naming the two national anthems for good measure, adjudging the singing as "splendidly upbeat". Adverts between the anthems and kickoff! They'll never bloody learn! Both sides are playing their first finals game since 2002, you'll be shocked to learn. Drury manages four references to the previous night in the first five minutes, including "he man-marked Zinedine Zidane in a recent friendly - if only you could man-mark players at penalties and free kicks" and "a little bit of the England-France flavour, as there will be colleagues facing each other." Not reaching at all, then? He also calls Morten Olsen Trappatoni, which makes us wonder who David Pleat's actually referring to when he says "we spoke, but I suppose we didn't conquer". 'Carnavaro' is this year's first recipient of a Pleat repronunication, 'Viera' the second. "Sharp blue" shirtage makes a reappearance halfway through the first half, but at least it's more explicable than "How calm is that from Allesandro Nesta? That is Allesandro Nesta calm", and certainly more dignified than trailing Switzerland-England during a passage of play. "The everlasting wildcard" Danes have a set of fans which "no tournament is complete without". Drury goes into detail on Perrotta's Cheshire bringing up during a stoppage, causing Pleat to remark "it only proves if you're from Manchester you can make a late tackle with the best of them." Er, yes, David. "The temperature is 33 degrees C on the pitch - it's about 48 in here" Gabby confides, but is she being ironic when she says "the second half to come - we're all looking forward to that"? The pitch map makes its debut at the end of the break, augmenting the possession stats with bars and figures that show nothing except that the team have some nice new equipment. Christian Panucci may have been "as immaculately turned out as ever" but he wasn't inspiring his team-mates much in a second half performance only enlivened when Drury described sub Antonio Cassano "he's rash, he's brash", Pleat feeling the need to file him under "Italy's answer to Wayne Rooney, I believe". The ball is going to be this year's group stage international bugbear, isn't it? Pleat ponders how "the Italian media" will react to the performance, and Drury waits a full minute before replying. Francesco Totti is given such a big build-up comparing the position of a late free kick to Zidane's the previous night that he can't fail to completely miss. "Well, they don't always come off" Drury covers his arse. "Going back on the English theme, David O'Leary will be more than happy" Pleat states, although surely the English theme was international and thus non-inclusive of O'Leary, before Drury castigates Totti's booking for completing a total 180 on seeing the replay. After all that, the Danes can go back to their "famous drinking product" with a point and a suddenly croaky Ally's confident prediction of a more attacking Italy had been shot down. Not quite "a disaster" though, surely.

TV Review - Sunday 13th June - England v France

2004-06-13T13:57:00.000-07:00

"Knew you weren't going to miss it". Des there, trying to summon up his famous 1990 England-West Germany comments, after a uniquely unmemorable theme accompanied by some nicely put together CGI of players running and kicking balls around Portugal taken from actual games. "This is where it all starts" he inaccurately states, before ruining it with an exhortation to the effect that it's "time to stiffen the sinews and summon up the blood", followed by clips intercut with, well, knights. For fuck's sake, now they're invoking Agincourt! Plus they've got Steven Gerrard to say "only on ITV", as if the BBC are banned from showing it at any stage. And here's something - until the Tyldesleyfest montage we'd never heard his Beckham Argentina commentary before, and certainly "he's big enough!" isn't about to supplant "you can smash them now" in the nation's affections. "If you weren't in the mood before, you probably are now" Des says afterwards, the very opposite of what we thought. Gareth Southgate is in the studio with Terry and Andy - "I don't think I've looked forward to a game like this for a long time" says Terry, as he also probably said before Brazil and Argentina two years ago. "Perhaps you could talk us through this England eleven" Des suggests to Gareth, at which it cuts to a clearly pre-recorded voiceover in which he uses his immense knowledge of his team-mates to reveal Gary Neville is experienced, Steven Gerrard is a good playmaker and "David Beckham, England captain... big defensive job for him against Zidane." Enlightening. Andy does the French team, of much the same stripe, although neither is helped by the speed the graphics move at. Switzerland-Croatia gets ignored, but hey, there's a thousand pound competition to be done! C. Paul Gascoigne. 0901 6562004 or Euro C to 85145. Des and Bobby have a chat in which Sir Bob says "I can't see us losing" as if England were playing Andorra and answers a question about the key player "Gerrard... want any more?" Hindsight there. Des chats to Beckham, and you can guess how in-depth that was, followed by a shot of Victoria accompanied by the kind of Romeo close-up we're sure the PCC have just warned newspapers against printing. Out of the next break we get the team introducing themselves in a 'Wayne Rooney, striker' way - what if there was a late injury? Gareth is moved to comment on how uncomfortable they look, while Terry describes it as a "time for calmness" just after Southgate has lamented the lack of hyped-up Pearce/Adams style players, and then refers to a French "arrogance". As opposed to, ITV? They've got a camera in a London pub, which seems to be the worst idea ever and indeed one never returned to, and over to Bobby and Clive, who calls it Le Crunch before the players have so much lined up for the anthems. "Has that got you in the mood? Thought so!" Well, Clive, if it had, THROWING TO AN ADVERTISING BREAK HAS JUST COMPLETELY RUINED IT AGAIN. ITV, HAVE YOU REALLY GOT NO IDEA WHY EVERYBODY PREFERS THE NON-ADVERTISEMENT BBC COVERAGE?

"It's a match with a hundred stories to tell already" - from 22 players? "You can hold hands if it gets really scary" - for christ's sake, we're sick of Tyldesley before the kick off. That takes some doing, and he's not even mentioned Barcelona 1999. Now, someone help us here - when Clive asked Bobby about the pitch, did Sir Bob really reply "it's absolutely magnificent - I am important to Newcastle United", as we thought? Clive definitely said "Every town and shire in England has a flag in this stadium", which we doubt. Sir Bobby's limitations as a co-commentator are immediately obvious - he doesn't like talking for long, and imparts no more information than is necessary ("it was only a matter of time before we won the ball back. And now we've lost it again"), which is handy for an ITV pundit but hardly helps the flow of commentary, and later commenting that Zidane is "very similar to the way Scholes has played for us" definitely needed thinking about in advance of saying it. "Shouldn't really be hearing many players complaining about being tired and emotional, poor lambs" Clive chides, oblivious to how most foreign pundits have said that for them already. 'Entente Cordiale' turns up ten minutes in, but 'the Lions of Lisbon' has to wait until about the 35 minute mark, alongside a reference to the other Stadium Of Light. While Ashley Cole avoids "Henry's hooves steaming up behind you to pick your pocket", the first half of the first half (you know what we mean, don't you?) sees Clive go on about the inventive play of England's midfield and the confidence of the defence, despite the fact they're not actually doing anything and France are attacking well every couple of minutes, but that's patriotism for you. Robson spends about ten minutes going on about overlapping full backs and nothing else, while Tyldesley is needlessly sarcastic about a player, we didn't catch which, saying he liked a full English breakfast - "it had never occured to me they come to England for the cuisine." This is neither the time nor the place, Clive. "Manchester United to Manchester United to former Manchester United." Then... "it's in!" Cut to Beckham, cut to fans, cut to the opposite corner of the pitch, only then cut to the celebrations. Well done, director. "It couldn't have gone further away from the goalkeeper if you'd thrown it in" opines Bobby. "If you're a neutral in this stadium you'd think it was a bit harsh on France, but there isn't a neutral in this stadium." Prove it, Clive. "Ledley King is aptly named" Bobby helpfully chimes in later. "It does sound nice, doesn't it?", as Clive presses the point home.

Half-time was solely notable for the trailer for the two Monday games which took the piss out of the BBC campaign. They've done this before, and it had exactly the same effect this time, that is to say making ITV look like sore losers knowing they won't win any kind of battle for ratings or hearts. Which of course we've come to expect of them. That the voiceover sounded like a man trying to impersonate Ray Winstone was the least surprising thing about it. Oh, apparently "David Beckham wasn't sure it had gone in", cueing up a close-up of his face betraying no such emotion. Don't be too desperate, ITV. It also occurs to us that Southgate, in having a clue about how tactics work, is actually showing up how bad Andy Townsend is.

As an example of the way independent TV works, it's notable that less than three minutes into the second half Clive hypes up the interactive option, which is no such thing, and the website. They never bother on The Other Side, but hey, they make trailers which cost some money. Plus Motson, Davies and Wilson don't say things like "the last time these two countries met in a match of any import the England number 10 made the difference. *pause* Jonny Wilkinson." Yeah, all football fans equally love rugby, don't they? As time went on you could hear the frustration growing in Clive's voice as "the self-preservation society of the England defence" were tested repeatedly, and you know the Neville handball claim will sooner or later be brought up as a stroke of luck denied penalty against when it almost certainly wasn't. "Leslie King" (Robson) held out and Steven Gerrard added another to his "half a dozen" misplaced passes this season - counted them all before the game, did you? Again, hello, hindsight - and when Rooney went down in the box you could forgive his lengthy pause before confirming the penalty. The "elastic" Barthez dealt with that, and we were back on again, Robson luckily talking throughout a short period when two England players collided on *three* seperate occasions, probably about his second half bugbear of relative tiredness. "I wish this game was over" Robson summed up, and that was with fifteen minutes left. "Arsenal have made a... Arsenal?" No wonder Clive missed all the substitutions, although he was subsequently accurate with "you sense we're into the last quarter of this game." With five minutes left Clive yet again looks to the rugby, citing how "they got games won", and a minute later plugs Fantasy Football by ensuring he gets into it, accompanying a cutaway of Santini "what big eyes you've got". "He'll be greeted in every dugout in the country by 'one-nil, one-nil'." What would the fans be doing in the dugouts? "How's your heart, Robert" chides Clive when France are awarded a free kick, tempting fate by adding they will win if they can keep it out. "50 billion pairs of fingers are crossed" Clive illogically adds, which may have been what turned fate against England. Still, as Robson adds, "what England must not do now is let..." He didn't get the opportunity to finish his thought.

Ah, ITV Curse, how are you?

Clive hardly helps the situation with "England will just have to beat them in the final instead." "Well, I've been disappointed about some football outcomes in my time..." Des comes out of the break, perhaps forgetting about club loyalties. Everyone is just talking over each other throughout the post-match which makes for less sense than usual from the panel, although ITV find time to remember their core audience by going straight to a cutaway of Victoria after two replays of the penalty miss. Des can't even be arsed to come up with an amusing aside to finish, although playing a massive Fantasy Football trailer at least ate up a couple of minutes of downbeat analysis.

Still, did you see Switzerland and Croatia?

TV Review - Sunday 13th June - Switzerland v Croatia

2004-06-13T10:59:00.000-07:00

The lessons learnt by the Beeb overnight seem to have been put into practice already - no chairs making awkward noises, no fidgety pundits, no emergency redecorating. The satellite zoom's still right at the start, which doesn't quite work there, but never mind. Gary's pitchside in Leiria, telling us the Portuguese "had to keep banging on the border, the Spanish were making a bit of noise" before rhetorically asking of Group B "you know who's in that by now, don't you?" There's little pretence that this is the big game, and at times the exhortations to watch are almost desperate, when Gary comments "even if it's only a scouting mission it should be worth watching". Reid and Strachan are with birthday boy Hansen in the studio, the latter denying the perfect present would be a French win - "such sincerity when you said that". There's a marked improvement in the level of informed banter, partly due to Strachan's surprise (well, he wasn't listed in the press releases) appearance - Gary gets as far as "if you were English, Gordon... I'm not even going to give you the options", which Strachan responds to in kind by not letting him step in mid-flow about the night's game. "That's not actually the game we're covering, there are two other teams" "Is there?" Yes, Switzerland ("Yakin, a player you've seen, Gordon?" "No") and Croatia, everyone appreciating Lineker's line about how the Swiss "lost games against two minnows of world football, Morocco and Germany." Do you see? Hakan Yakin and Dado Prso are apparently "brothers", as both have ponytails. Steve Wilson's first words of Euro 2004 are "you could be forgiven for thinking there were two teams in group B", which doesn't bode well, but he shows a neat turn of language when he explains why the Swiss were "singing from different song sheets". Lawro's alongside, calling Johann Vogel a "silly boy" for getting booked, claiming someone had been "hit by a bulldozer" and setting off the ironists again with "he's a big, big boy, this Mornar". His latest obsession is diving - "because players roll over so easily you're never quite sure if there's contact or not... it might just send a signal out to any other guy who's going to fall over in the penalty area"" is his overview, and he goes on to go on at length about inconsistency when the referee doesn't book Chapusiat for a hilarious dive, as "every time you see it it gets worse". "Baric... looks good for 70. Don't know what he's using in his hair" Wilson comments before coughing on-mike. At half time Lineker reckons "the biggest thing to come out of that is England shouldn't have much to fear", while Hansen singles out Bernt Haas for criticism, mentioning he was "bought by a manager sitting there", nodding towards Reid. "Did you buy him for his name?" Gary wonders, amid much hilarity at Haas' reaction to finding five attackers behind him after misreading the offside trap. Lineker makes an obvious joke about Strachan being small, letting Reid play up the moment when "you just said we" ("I'm not going to bother again"), but makes up ground with "Switzerland barely got out of neutral - nothing new there, then." Vogel eventually gets red carded, Lawro putting this down to how "it must be hotter than we think because they're all doing stupid things". Stiel's innovative save on the ground with his head leads to a silence which makes it sound like both have had to turn the mikes down for fear of pissing themselves laughing. Are commentators trying to mention "two balls on the pitch" during every game? We're sure it's featured from Wilson, Davies and Motson alike so far. Something that thankfully hasn't made so many appearances is The New Interpretation Of Offside, although Lawro gives it a go when wondering if a player who was offside when the ball was played to him was in active play. (In fact, Lawro had brought this up on Saturday's Euro 2004 Football Focus, citing "a goal Liverpool scored against Leeds" - anyone?) A decent selection of technical glitches later it finishes goalless, and while Peter Drury would be apoplectic at having the carefully planned England build-up ruined Wilson is pragmatic. Gary is less careful - "I've never been happier to see such a pile of rubbish" - while Gordon fears for his health getting out if he's too critical, suggesting they're "negative people", and Reid reckons Stiel was thinking "I'll have to do something for the lads in the studio", which would make for interesting priorities, before Gary brings analysis to an end with "I've had enough of that game" and a perhaps not totally serious preview of "the big one, the Brazilian section of Strictly Come Dancing - the samba or the can-can, the choice is yours." So now it's all in for ITV and England's tournament debuts, a union represented in idents by a bulldog. Hmm, don't send out too mixed messages now, will you?

It's your licence fee at work

2004-06-13T08:21:00.000-07:00

Bloody hell, look at this - an interactive replay doobrie from BBCi (Shockwave required)

TV Review - Saturday 12th June

2004-06-13T03:37:00.000-07:00

"It's a tournament of such prestige they named a currency after it" The BBC know how to start a show, and here's no exception as, with the aid of the satellite picture showing the location of the ground that appears to be the intro to the stadium picture for their live games this tournament, there appears to be a massive zoom-in to Gary on a rooftop. The titles, using a completely unmemorable mix of Basement Jaxx's Good Luck, feature players running between buildings and lots of flashing lights in lines, which appears to be the big new graphics trick this year as they turn up in UEFA's tournament ident and ITV's coverage too. Eventually we get to the studio, after a Euro 2004 Top Trumps graphic, to find Alan, Peter and Ian looking hot, Wright apparently wearing a painter and decorator's trousers. After Gary's asked Peter about public opinion in Portugal, a country he left in 2001, we cross to Barry for the opening ceremony. Now David Coleman's in retirement nobody does an opening ceremony like Barry, as he's always keen to tell us every detail he can lay his hands on and everything going on, hence his notification of "various things to do with navigation" appearing and an invocation of Vasco de Gama. The explorer, not the Brazilian team, obviously. Perhaps fortunately he chooses not to comment on the kid standing in front of Luis Figo giving a peace sign to camera. Rattled by the lack of team captions that stay on screen for a period of time whereby he can read them, he then appears to make a comment off-mike between describing the first Greek goal and Lawro chiming in. Mark does go on to set an early high water mark for the earliest reference to an awkward pronunication of one of them foreigners of eight minutes in, while Barry sets Clive Tyldesley a target to aim for by referring to Man Utd's Champions League win after 12 minutes. This is a rare excursion into modern thinking for Barry, who at one point complains "how many years down the road will they be playing with a beach ball?" "You know Greece are doing well because Big Phil's got the pout on" - yes, Lawro, and because of the scoreline too. At half time you can tell Wright wants to improve his public image but is still hampered by details such as not knowing the names of the players - "what do you think of Charisteas?" "The number nine?... the number 15, he's not bad", although he's not so enamoured of the Spanish player who "in the warm-up I was caning him". Barry seems to expect fireworks only when Cristiano Ronaldo enters the fray, only to become annoyed at cross after cross being left ("yet again!"), although given Pauleta was unmarked at the far post for one cross only to run *away* from the ball it's hardly surprising. One habit of the local producers that will annoy over time is the cut straight to a crowd or bench shot immediately after a goal or goalmouth action. Show us the player reaction first! What Lawro perhaps overstatingly calls "arguably the best result ever in any competition" isn't derailed by Portugal's consolation goal, Barry apparently not knowing who'd scored until the replay. Back in the studio Alan gleefully tears Ronaldo's crossing apart even though there's not that much wrong with it apart from players in the centre not having a clue, while Gary worries that "they might knock the Olympic stadium down" celebrating in Athens. "Portugal have discovered it's very hard to remove Greece" is clearly a line been working on for some time to close game 1.

We return 25 minutes later to find someone's stuck a board in front of the studio window. "It feels like we're in a giant Outspan" Gary comments, to which Alan replies "it's an expensive business". Er, yes. An early moment of confusion comes when Canizares is pinpointed as key to Spain's chances only for Peter to point out Casillas is playing in his stead. In the commentary box Motson is effusive in welcoming Mick McCarthy into the TV team for a major tournament again. It was McCarthy's man-management skills that got Ireland as far as they went in 2002, and they're ably demonstrated when he retorts to Motson making the point that Raul Bravo's form improved after he left his loan spell at Leeds with "my career would have got a revival if I'd gone to Real Madrid, I think." Tell that to David Beckham. "The fans are wearing red, the steward is wearing yellow and his flag is red and yellow!" provides a moment of amusement to Motty, who's soon distracted by an Abramovich cutaway - is this the Premiership again? - and Mick slagging off the tannoy announcer for not speaking Russian. He then decides to make sport of Sergei Ovchinnikov's ponytail, only to be brought short when Motty reminds him "there is another keeper even older with a ponytail who we know about". We've always thought Motson's reliance on statistics was an overplayed gag, but he does worryingly get obsessed by relative players' ages at one point in the second half. This sidetracking may explain why he refers at one point to the Soviets and feels it necessary to point out "you have to call him (Xabi Alonso) that, it's his name". Ah, that'll be it. When Spain have a goal disallowed neither man seems to be able to agree on whether it was for handball or a foul on the keeper, although both know that both occurred. Mick then comments on a Kariaka shot being ambitious as "he's got 20 players in front of him", to which Motty commends him on doing "well to count them all", which leads him to cod-sheepishly admit "I was wrong, there was 19". "I didn't dare say it, mate" Motty somewhat overfamiliarly responds, before getting completely thrown by the sending off incident - "is that Smertin? No it's not, luckily... oh, it's red". Lucky, eh? The analysis centres on replaying the 36 seconds between Valeron's substitute arrival and his goal before Gary chances his arm with his public: "it's England v France tomorrow, but we've got the big one, Croatia v Switzerland - join us, please." Oh, go on then, you've twisted our arm.

Rod Liddle, ladies and gentlemen

2004-06-12T05:19:00.001-07:00

Virtual tenner for anyone who gets past the first paragraph

The first 'I hate football, me, no, look at me' broadsheet piece of the summer

2004-06-12T05:06:00.000-07:00

Although it does read like particularly skilful irony

Henri Delauney still gleaming

2004-06-11T11:02:00.000-07:00

So, let's show our hand. What are we going to offer you - and yes, we include you, casual reader swayed by a link in the last week, we're hoping you'll come back day after day to read our doings and perhaps even leave comments occasionally, look, in that comments bit down there - during the tournament itself? Well, there'll be our patented sideways glance at the news from the camps - why, here's one now, as Luis Figo ensures Portugal go into their opening game in the unified spirit that leads to best results in such a competition by slagging off Deco - we'll be reviewing the British TV coverage game by game, we'll be keeping count of all the players who state that they wanted to sign a new contract with their club so badly they rejected a huge offer from Chelsea, and we'll be merrily sideswiping any player or coach who steps out of line, whether they know they have or not. Get set, then, for 31 games of poor refereeing, co-commentators criticising linesmen for daring to get involved in decisions, the odd decent goal and after the final a load of columnists claiming the standard of football is lower than ever because all the players are paid too much. Let's enjoy it while it lasts.

Not Euro 2004, we know, but it has to be said

2004-06-10T12:43:00.000-07:00

Fuck off 'Championship' fuck

News From The Camps

2004-06-10T12:27:00.000-07:00

Always good to get your excuse in early, and Russia have taken the Souness route by suggesting before they've started that referees will cheat them out of the tournament - "this is just a reality and I'm afraid there is nothing we can do about it", just to make it abundantly clear whose fault it will be. Portugal and Spain "seen almost as co-hosts"? Insomuch that Scotland co-hosted with England in 1996 by bringing loads of fans down, we suppose. Meanwhile, the Bulgarian squad have refused to share hotel rooms, which means they won't be moving to Premiership clubs any time soon.

French letters

2004-06-10T12:19:00.000-07:00

Whatever the training the French team get at the supposedly second to none Clarefonatine complex we used to hear so much about is, media training presumably isn't part of it, as evidenced by the slightly straw-clutching way French players have sought to, as the Sun would put it, "turn up the psychological heat on England ahead of Sunday's battle". First Lilian Thuram claimed Wayne Rooney "lacks international experience", Michael Owen "was a far better player on his debut for the England team" and Rooney "is no Pele". Well, cheers for that. Now Robert Pires claims the Premiership is shit really. Yes, Arsenal, he's talking about you as well. As well as being the kind of attitude a season unbeaten foists upon you, not to mention one guaranteed to bring every football journo in the national press out into "see? We told you all this!", it's not even a great slagging off. Apparently Premiership football is more end to end, while Sven is more tactical. Ah, that explains it. We particularly admire his line about how the top clubs mix British and international players while "clubs like Portsmouth do not have that luxury". Portsmouth, the club kept up by the strike partnership of Lomano Lua-Lua and Yakubu Ayegbeni.

I know that was then, but it could be again

2004-06-09T10:42:00.001-07:00

Time to look at this tournament's cash-in singles, then, and a marked decrease from last year is in evidence, perhaps related to the decline in popularity of both the England band and The Great Escape.

Most notable is the official song, the Farm getting Spoony in to, as far as we can tell, listen to All Together Now and chuck in an overdubbed choir, 'ing-er-land' shout and some commentary. Well, it is an England song. We've been dubious about this choice since we first heard of it, not least because, no matter how often Peter Hooton reassures us that it's about hope and love between fellow man overcoming all, it's still about World War I and contains the lyrics "the same old story again/All those tears shed in vain/Nothing learnt and nothing gained." The "let's go home" outro has, however, wisely been chopped out.

It was an ungrounded fear of Blazin' Squad doing the official song - was this actually ever likely? - that forced XFM's Christian O'Connell into action to produce Born In England by Twisted X. As befits our most corporate indie station it's so wantonly chirpy that it would have been laughed out of Britpop, and definitely melodically resembles an Oasis song we can't immediately place as well - anyone? Not that it help its cause by starting "Stand up all you scousers for Michael and Wayne/Mancs for Scolesey, Cockneys for Beckham and James". Also, vocalists include not only James Nesbitt, who as everybody has pointed out wasn't Born In England at all, but also Greg Gilbert of the Delays, a man who at top range sounds like Liz Fraser out of the Cocteau Twins. Someone with that voice singing any of a rabble-rousing football anthem and getting away with it? No, this is a case of shouting 'look who's in here!' before thinking of how to write a song that'll catch on. And by the way, three blokes shouting does not automatically make a terrace anthem.

Come On Eileen has caught on everywhere, of course, through wedding discos and memories of the gypsy look. Now some chancers called 4-4-2 have, as we revealed on the blog back last July, rewritten it to become Come On England. With that idea and the power of Chris Moyles, the Sun's Victoria Newton and TalkSport, some of whose number have even overdubbed it with a choral chant (Alan Parry Sings!) and then claimed to have been behind the whole thing to the extent they made a video without the band's knowledge, it can't fail to be a) the biggest charting single of the three, b) given a video starring page 3 girls and c) shite. And it delivers the goods! We were physically sick when we saw the blurb reading "forget dream teams and stars that can't be bothered. Listen to an honest record made by people that do it for love, not money - the fans", and that was before hearing the worst Kevin Rowland impression ever, the overchirpy backing singers, random Alan Parry commentary dubs and a banjo sound straight out of a 1988 Casio. They've even got the phrasing of the famous building up coda wrong. "Bend it - like Beckham! Strike it - like Owen!" No.

What else? The official tournament song is by Nelly Furtado and need not concern us; the 2002 compilation Jumpers 4 Goalposts has been reissued with an extra disc including the Carling ad music and that classic terrace anthem Blitzkrieg Bop by the Ramones; there's a compilation called Come On England by the same label putting out the same titled single which inexplicably features Roll With It and Feeder's Just the Way I’m Feeling, as well as a *new* Bell & Spurling effort, but also Papa's Got A Brand New Pigbag; and another compilation called Vive O 2004 has such a surreal tracklisting you wouldn't believe us if we couldn't prove it.

Today In More Than 60 Seconds

2004-06-09T10:42:00.000-07:00

One ball is much like another, you'd have thought, but to the Puff List we can add Ivan Helguera, although if the ball really does go two directions at once then we'd definitely suggest UEFA look into it - that could confuse a defence. We also see that Spain have reduced training time due to the Portuguese climate, which must be a culture shock having travelled all that distance across the world.

We've seen how Seedorf, who merely coincidentally is 'injured' and out of Holland's first game, has wasted no time in turning on his coach, and now Gennaro Gattuso's having a pop at his. Anyone who's worked out how many fellow squad members have won more caps is surely not to be trusted.

Finally, good news for Andy Townsend - there's a new New Interpretation Of Offside! It seems to be much like the existing one, actually, and of course "every offside will will be attributed to the new interpretation" is what we've been saying all along. Note here that the example given is from 2002-03 - that's a full few months before what Graham Barber told us was its inception date, Ally!

Wondering what that last bit was all about...

2004-06-08T16:12:00.000-07:00

...our first few referrers, not least the Sport On The Internet reviewer in Monday's Independent, but also Charlton's own All Quiet In The East Stand and old favourites Soccer Thoughts.

Comment from our Women's Features correspondent

2004-06-08T14:02:00.000-07:00

Here we go, as someone once sang. Three weeks of one thing on TV, on the radio, in the newspapers. It's the football European Championship, and all the talk is of how Sven Goran Eriksson can control himself when the pressure's on. But enough about Ulrika, there are so many other burning questions. Will Swedish Sven find his diamond? Will Posh be there for her man Becks in the stands in case any passing floozy fancies a go at pulling him away? Will little Wayne Rooney be able to score before his mum calls him in for his tea?

And, of course, there's all the glamour of the top players from other countries, isn't there? There's the Italians, tempting the ladies with Cornettos while taking penalties. And all those Teutonic Germans trying to occupy the other country's penalty box, those Russians and Spaniards and even Latvians, wherever that is, all playing for what they want, which is of course loadsamoney. And it's all happening in little old Portugal, where the sangria will no doubt be swilled by our boys who wouldn't hurt a fly with their tattoos and songs.

Yes, it'll be fun and action all the way, if you're an overweight, girlfriendless man in a polyster shirt swigging cans of Tennents in an armchair surrounded by his similarly clad mates. For my own part, no amount of dishy Des, lovely Gary or the idea of watching football being presented by a woman, obviously only hired by ITV to get us girls to watch, can stop me kicking the so-called Beautiful Game into touch this year. And anyway, what about us? Where's our Corrie going to fit into all of this? No, let the drunken menfolk hog the TV and sing their songs about dirty Eye-ties during June, I and all the other henpecked women will be out enjoying the fresh air for once. Get excited about your Henrys, Figos and Owens, guys - we'll be showing footy the red card this summer.

"Irreverent", you say?

2004-06-07T12:11:00.000-07:00

In light of sudden popularity, it occurs to us that we haven't got round to mentioning here that you can read this level of fumblings towards a greater meaning of football every week of the year on Armchair Football, a massive mail-out which lists every last piece of football programming on British TV which is much like this, but with more impenetrable in-jokes and Clive Allen pisstakes. Just send a blank email to that linked address and then stand by your inboxes every Wednesday evening.

Live And Exclusive

2004-06-07T10:11:00.000-07:00

Of course, we've all known for many years that the biggest battles have not been between countries or players but television networks. Admittedly these are usually one-sided battles, the BBC beating ITV by nearly 5:1 for the 2002 World Cup final, but there's hearts and minds to be won and lost in equal measure. Here's how both sides, with a cursory polite nod to Eurosport's coverage helmed by James Richardson - there it is, then - shape up:

BBC

BEST MOMENT OF 2000 COVERAGE : Motson allowing himself to be lost in the moment of Spain's winner over Yugoslavia - "It's Alfonsooooooo! It! It's unbelieveable!"

WORST MOMENT OF 2000 COVERAGE : Barry Davies' petulance at the cheek of Italy to dare defend against Holland - "such a waste of talent, not to mention those who paid money to watch...it's done no service to football what we've seen in this second semi-final"

GAME SPLIT : As has been much noted, the BBC only have England's final group game, but should they progress will have the quarter-final alone and then the usual simulcast domination will kick in. If not, they still get first pick of the standout quarter and semi. Both opening day games, Germany-Holland and Spain-Portugal are other first round highlights.

PRESENTER : Gary Lineker seems to have inherited the mantle of the wry, unflappable charmer, and doesn't get as many jokes about his ears as he used to as a result. Our favourite Linekerism of all time, apart from in the World Cup when the start of Spain-Slovenia overlapped with the end of England-Denmark on ITV and Gary accordingly delivered most of his opening link in Spanish, was during one of the 2000 quarter-finals when the VT team cued up a montage of fan shots backed by XTC's Stupidly Happy, and Lineker declared afterwards "well, at half time it's Portugal who are stupidly happy". Ray Stubbs adds solid support.

STAR PUNDIT : Alan Hansen, whose preference of highlighting defensive errors to lauding attacking play has been much lampooned, not least by Michael 'they've raped the game!' Robinson - if you're so great, Michael, why have we never seen your expertise on British TV, then? - but at least he speaks from a position of awareness about what players at that level should be doing.

FOR THIS TOURNAMENT ONLY... : No Martin O'Neill this year, cynics might suggest because he's waiting for Liverpool's offer to come in. Jamie Redknapp makes one of his "never mind the quality, look at those cheekbones" major tournament appearances, while Steve Bruce is the unknown quantity. No Dion Dublin this time around, luckily.

PUB LEVEL ANALYST : At least Peter Schmeichel has his enthusiasm tethered to an understanding of the game, even if it doesn't always come across. Ian Wright, however, supplements his unique tailoring with facile flag-waving and a tendency to pick arguments with no backing with fellow pundits, not to mention his attempts at street talk.

MAN IN THE CAMP : Garth Crooks' hesitant questioning has always been the BBC weak link, even now everybody from McGowan to Lovejoy rips the piss out of it. Mark Bright's not much better, while a whole phalanx of back-up reporters, from Dominic Cotton to Manish Bhasin via Ivan Gaskell, are more journalist than analyst.

ITV

BEST MOMENT OF 2000 COVERAGE : Clive nodding to the actual talking point as the teams came out for the opening game - "Belgium versus Sweden, Des versus Gary, at long last"

WORST MOMENT OF 2000 COVERAGE : Peter Drury's sanctimonious moment during Holland's thrashing of Yugoslavia - "if you threw a chair in Charleroi, let that prick your conscience!"

GAME SPLIT : Four years ago, at the Euro 2000 ITV press launch head of sport Brian Barwick announced that "while we have England v Germany, the BBC will be showing Slovenia v Norway." In the end they ceded a share of the live broadcast of the former to BBC1, while the latter wasn't shown at all as it was a final group game on at the same time as Spain-Yugoslavia, the game of the tournament. But apart from that, the oneupmanship was fully deserved. This year's angle is England-France, the build-up for which started in about March, and the next game against Switzerland - but watch for that ITV curse! Barwick also neglected to mention this year that they can if they want show all Latvia's group games, although they did get the last two days of the first phase.

PRESENTER : The opposite of what PR types call a soft launch, Des Lynam quietly announced his departure from football presenting after this tournament a few months ago, to the relief of many. Increasingly less arsed throughout the Premiership season even when hyping it up, his entire allure for journalists now seems to be through reflected housewife's choice glories of the mid-90s. Asked many housewives, have you? Gabby's there with a grin and light approach doing most of the back-up backed by Angus Scott. What, no Matt Smith? Well, Speed Sunday won't present itself, will it, and to hell with two seasons of Premiership On Monday-aided increasing prestige. Wonder how many presenters the Beeb'll need throughout next season.

STAR PUNDIT : Terry Venables. Stopped doing the week in week out coalface early in the Premiership's lifespan, but remains a master tactician and natural communicator.

FOR THIS TOURNAMENT ONLY... : As is traditional, ITV are going with the Look At All Our Ex-England Managers approach, Tel joined not by Glenn Hoddle and Kevin Keegan as in previous years but Graham Taylor (!) and Sir Bobby Robson, with Steve McClaren also set to join in until Sven spirited him away. The big problem with this, of course, is that as ex-England managers they never want to slag off the current incumbent or his team too hard as they know all too well, especially with Taylor there, what the consequences are. Robson is the real joker in the pack as he'll be co-commentating on England games now that Big Ron is persona non grata. With his inventive approach to the language, shameless punditry flag-waving and wayward ways with pronunciations or even getting the names right, this could be fun. For which read excruciating.

PUB LEVEL ANALYST : Where do you start with ITV? We've been slagging off Clive Allen all season so we don't see a reason to stop now, but a new possible emerged quietly when the divvying up of highlights show panel members was announced last week. Danny Murphy?!

MAN IN THE CAMP : Gabriel Clarke and his range of smart fade-ins and incidental shots in lieu of proper coverage has been a standard of recent Saturday nights, and with training ground nets to focus in on and kids to be jump-cut away to he'll be in his element. More accomplished than Newbon, at any rate.

VERDICT : BBC, because, well, they don't have adverts, but also because their prestige is immeasurable. Leaving aside the ratings win, whatever England's great moments, you don't hear them in the voices of Mooro or Hugh Johns ("here's Hurst, can he make it four? He has, he has!" And they wonder why Wolstenholme is far better remembered) but through Ken, Coleman, Motty or Baz. You're more likely to hear Jon Champion's BBC commentary on Michael Owen's 1998 goal than Brian's, even though it was dubbed on later. And as cloying as Lawrenson's voice can be, odds are you'll be pining for it once Sir Bobby forgets himself again in the middle of a vital passage of play. Still, we can but wait and see for ourselves at this stage. The Tactics Truck, needless to say, will be impounded at Customs.

Business as usual

2004-06-05T01:15:00.000-07:00

An Italian (Francesco Totti) gets his excuse in early, a Dutchman (Clarence Seedorf) threatens to walk out

The difference between them and us

2004-06-03T12:32:00.000-07:00

International angle : Milene Domingues, Ronaldo's girlfriend (wife? Whatever) models a semi-official Euro 2004 bra - here on international syndication

British angle : ('A well known female Sky Sports football presenter on Saturday mornings' - Google hit-conscious Ed) models self same bra, for the British campaign

Bring back Berni The Bunny!

2004-06-02T11:04:00.000-07:00

Meet Kinas, the mascot for the tournament. Of course, no self-respecting mascot comes without ridiculous blurb explaining their background nowadays, and so it proves - no mention that the name is derived from the country's historic coat of arms, merely that "rumour has it that Kinas was born in a small, remote, Portuguese village with a supernatural gift which saw him assume the knowledge and craft of all great footballers, past and present." No. He actually looks like Sport Billy has mated with an anorexic Wayne Rooney. "Kinas loves music, partying and people, and his friendliness and enthusiasm have a tendency to spread to all of those around him." Er, it's a European Championship. Lots of luck.

I don't care how often you go on about it, James Nesbitt was not Born In England

2004-06-01T15:26:00.000-07:00

Oh hoorah, it's a war of minor radio stations' Euro 2004 cash-in songs. We're siding with XFM on this, because the opposition is TalkSport, and TalkSport must never be sided with. Plus Come On England sounds like the worst thing ever, and "Christian's not sounding very Christian at all" is the stupidest sentence in the language.

Euro 2004 Preview - Group D

2004-06-01T11:29:00.000-07:00

CZECH REPUBLIC

Narkiness level : There's some hard looking men in there, perhaps to compensate for Pavel Nedved's haircut.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : Ahoy, Poborsky and Smicer! A Nedved To Chelsea story is surely only weeks away but keeper Petr Cech has beaten him to it, which means no more Neil Sullivan at least.

Best player left at home : Jiri Jarosik, the Russian league's most expensive player ever. And the Russians should know about buying players expensively. Also striker Jiri Stajner, nicknamed Svejk after a supposed resemblance to the central character in Hasek's novel The Good Soldier Svejk. One for Drury there.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : Possibly internally in getting used to being fancied favourites rather than unfancied underdogs. That sort of thing can really put a side off.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : Cruel, Rank Berk

And? : You may scoff at seeing this lot in a popularly titled Group Of Death in which Latvia are also involved, but only France had a better qualifying record, and they weren't in a group with Holland or had gone 21 games unbeaten until recently, a run which included beating France away. Don't forget also they were the underdogs in 1996's Group Of Death, and look what happened there. Defensive and squad depth questions have latterly arisen, mind.

GERMANY

Narkiness level : With Jens Lehmann and Oliver Kahn battling for the keepers' position? What do you think?

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop :

Best player left at home : World Cup regular starters Carsten Ramelow and Oliver Neuville, the latter dropped for Thomas Brdaric, who has played once for his country and never in a competitive game. Christian Ziege was a late call-up after Christian Rahn pulled out.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : You know the cliches about German solidarity in togetherness by now.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : Dull Rover, I

And? : Apparently you can never write them off. However, they've flattered to deceive lately and if Michael Ballack carries his poor club form in, they could be in trouble. Mind you, everyone wrote them off two years ago etc etc.

HOLLAND

Narkiness level : Iron constitutions at the back, Edgar Davids in the middle, Ruud Exploting The New Interpretation Of Offside up front.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : Now that Fenerbahce are paying Pierre van Hooijdonk (yes, he's still there) enough to satisfy the homeless, Patrick Kluivert steps up. He's been linked with Premiership clubs for about the last seven summers now, and every season his sights get lower and lower. Still, had to get to Middlesbrough eventually.

Best player left at home : Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink, Mario Melchiot, Andre Ooijer... it wouldn't be Holland without a string of them. Mark van Bommel, a live candidate for the player most likely to cause dissention in the ranks having had a dressing room fight with Davids during the qualifiers, added himself to the list due to an Achilles tendon injury.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : It's Holland. It's mandatory. You may like to run a work sweepstake on which player will publicly take Dick Advocaat's tactics on first.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name, although being called Dick Advocaat he barely needs one : T'AC/DC Diva? A-OK!

And? : The kind of team that can lose 1-0 to Scotland and beat them 6-0 in the second leg, or indeed completely dominate Yugoslavia and go on to bore Italy to death as they did four years ago, really. Youth and experience - remakably, six of the squad were at Euro 96, with two others only missing that through injury - will be required to blend well, a proper foil for van Nistelrooy will need to be found, and some sort of team building wizardry should be kept at hand at all times.

LATVIA

Narkiness level : How should we know?

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : Famously coached to initial success by Gary Johnson, now of Yeovil, quite a few squad members have given England a go, and Trevor Francis will be paying particular attention to games featuring Alex Kolinko in goal. Marian Pahars' likely strike partner Maris Verpakovskis was rejected after a trial with Wolves last summer, moved to Dynamo Kiev and promptly scored the goals that got Latvia here. Wolves spent a good deal of the season playing Steffen Iversen and Nathan Blake up front.

Best player left at home : Um... will experienced attacking midfielder Vladimirs Kolesnicenko do?

Likelihood of internal squabbling : All-round optimism against the odds rarely breeds that kind of thing.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : Rank, Starless Vodkas

And? : They beat Turkey over two legs, lest we forget, but in their next friendly lost to Kuwait. Kuwait! On the positive side, the domestic season starts in April so the players may well be fresher than most of their rivals and they have pace and, well, positive thinking on their side. But just look at that group!

Euro 2004 Preview - Group C

2004-05-31T10:49:00.000-07:00

BULGARIA

Narkiness level : Have you ever seen Hristo Stoichkov? Martin Petrov is his spiritual heir, as he already looks like a police photofit and was sent off within eight minutes of his international debut.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : Defensive midfielder Marian Hristov, no relation to Barnsley-baiting countryman Georgi, has had trouble settling at Kaiserslautern but has a good record at international level. Norwich, possibly.

Best player left at home : Radostan Kishishev lost out in a vote among squad members for the captaincy to Stilian Petrov. Kishishev promptly walked out, claiming the vote had been fixed by coach Plamen Markov. Level headed, then. Charlton dressing rooms with him and Paolo Di Canio must be a laugh. South a bit, Svetislav Todorov has not been risked after his long-term injury.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : With Kishishev out and Markov instilling a team discipline it's unlikely, but there's always Sofia divided loyalties to consider.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : Man-Marvel Kop

And? : If you fancy an each-way bet on a dark horse, Bulgaria are a decent side to look at - young, up for it, the shadow of 1994 dissipating, finished ahead of Croatia and Belgium in qualifying. A poor record against the fellow group members is the principal question mark.

DENMARK

Narkiness level : Denmark? Narky?

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : So many Scandinavians have played in the Premiership that it's probably unlikely they'll be big money, never mind flopping, Jon Dahl Tomasson aside. Martin Jorgensen has been in form for Udinese and a word to a club from opposite winger Jesper Gronkjaer could tempt someone.

Best player left at home : Morten Wieghorst is out with a knee injury while Peter Lovenkrands has only been named provisionally. Stig Tofting could benefit from a couple of other injury concerns, having been in jail a year ago yet immediately returning to form when out.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : Negligible. Given the squad could include an ex-con and a player recovered from testicular cancer (Ebbe Sand), arguments over training sides are comparatively like sand in the breeze.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : 'E's Lent Moron

And? : A lot of key players are out of form, injured or in Thomas Gravesen's case initially suspended, and for every "but 1992!", remember that four years ago their record was P 3 L 3 F 0 A 8. Still, they'll be entertaining and anything is possible.

ITALY

Narkiness level : Usually assured, but watch for when big decisions go against them. Eh, South Korea?

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : As usual, the whole squad play in Serie A, although this won't be for the want of Chelsea's trying. Watch for horrific puns about Totti in late July.

Best player left at home : Good old Filippo Inzaghi, for one. Various fringe contenders who'd walk into most other squads - Massimo Ambrosini, Daniele Adani, Alessio Tacchinardi - are also staying behind, or not in the case of Alberto Gilardino, who scored 23 goals this season including four in his last game but has been packed off the the European Under-21 Championships.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : There's always room for it, usually when the media start a campaign, club rivalries are brought up or someone kicks off at their coach and/or team-mates. Ooh, is that Christian Vieri's name we see in that squad list?

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : Innovating A Patriot

And? : Genuine candidates for the Henri Delaunay, Italy will want to make up for the disappointment of 2002 and have an experienced, exciting set of players. Questions arise over defensive cover, unity, form of key players and whether Trapattoni can decide on one set of tactics at once.

SWEDEN

Narkiness level : Not great.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : Again, flop maybe, big money rarely. Presumably Henrik Larsson won't move south now.

Best player left at home : Larsson's surprise reappearance after announcing his international retirement, spurred on by an 80,000-signature petition, has meant bad luck for the prolific, not to mention fantastically named, Niklas Skoog, popular Johan Elmander and promising Stefan Selakovic. Michael Svensson, Johan Mjallby and Marcus Allback are all serious injury doubts.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : Larsson's return has been greeted better than you might have expected (apart from with Skoog, Elmander and Selakovic, anyway), and have you seen the men the players would have to answer to?

Vaguely amusing anagram of coaches' names (yes, there's two of them) : A Slack Garbler, Bored Stormy Gem

And? : A disciplined, organised, hard to beat unit. Boring, then. Come on, Sweden, what happened to you? English eyes may be disappointed as Frederik Ljungberg has never really transferred his club form onto the international stage, and unless Larsson makes an immediate impact it could be an early journey home.

Euro 2004 Preview - Group B

2004-05-30T05:06:00.000-07:00

CROATIA

Narkiness level : It remains to be seen whether the younger players can replicate the internal fires of the old guard.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : One's always likely to pitch up at a lower division side, much like Ivica Mornar's lesser spotted appearances for Portsmouth.

Best player left at home : Mostly those long retired - you can measure the shadow cast by Boksic, Stimac, Boban, Suker, Stanic, Prosinecki, Jarni etc. with a measuring tape.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : Low. External squabbling, high.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : Cob Or A Tit

And? : The golden years have gone and this is a side in transition, as they say, and struggling to impress. Don't have great hopes for them in this company.

ENGLAND

Narkiness level : Depends on how many Man Utd and Arsenal players start.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : Insert own joke here.

Best player left at home : For the want of a big flip chart in Man Utd's training ground complex or something similar England have lost the services of their best defender from Japan/Korea. Jonathan Woodgate and Gareth Southgate also leave the defence a touch short.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : Unless the FA find a disrepute charge or drug test sheet down the back of the filing cabinet, unlikely now.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : Koreans Govern Sins

And? : Ironically for the one year when everybody's not going blase into it expecting to win, England probably have their best chance in a while of picking up silverware. Gerrard's back after missing the World Cup, the young players are maturing nicely, but could the traditional end of season tiredness work against them again?

FRANCE

Narkiness level : Thierry Henry has a world-class Gallic shrug, which he seems not to have noticed the extreme irony in.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : Most of them have already played in the Premiership with success, although is that £12m Steve Marlet we see sneaking in between Henry and Saha?

Best player left at home : Such is the competition that Bundesliga championship medal winner Johan Micoud and Peguy Luyindula and Sydney Govou from Lyon's domestically conquering side can stay at home.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : Unlikely, unless squad firebrand Willy Sagnol starts up.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : I Can Quit, S Jenas

And? : 14 wins in a row recently equalled the world record and the will to win may well be increased by the belief that this will be the side's final tournament together, Barthez, Lizarazu and Desailly set to leave the international stage afterwards. Weak points? Questions have arisen around the defence and the coach is untested under heavy pressure.

SWITZERLAND

Narkiness level : Untested.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : Hakan Yakin was always being linked with Premiership clubs back in the day but seems settled at Stuttgart now. Rennes' Alexander Frei has been on form recently, the like of which usually sees someone like Fulham put in a bid.

Best player left at home : Injuries may foreshorten the 26-man preliminary squad to be cut down to 23 on June 2nd. It's already down by one after striker Marco Streller suffered a suspected broken leg in training.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : Morale dipping after excellent qualification could have such ramifications.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : Ink Hub KO

And? : The side were beaten by an understrength Morocco in February and are littered with players coming in off the back of off-form seasons and injuries. Decent enough on paper, but finishing third in the group could be regarded as success.

Euro 2004 Preview - Group A

2004-05-12T10:48:00.000-07:00

Welcome, then, to IUFGN's Euro 2004 blog. As we go along we'll be complementing our traditional wry commentary on news links - pray silence for the first pointless story about sex rules for the tournament - we'll be taking the comedy sickle to the coverage of the tournament, and to start with we've decided to go exactly the same route as every other Euro 2004 preview special and take an Ivan Gaskell-style closer look at the sixteen teams doing light battle, albeit in a way you can understand. Thus:

GREECE

Narkiness level : Middling, liable to edge upwards.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : Striker Zissis Vryzas, who's just helped Fiorentina back into Serie A, is occasionally linked with a middling club, they perhaps put off by a petition from commentators.

Best player left at home : Christos Patsatzolglou, a more than likely starter out injured for more than a year.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : Almost guaranteed. Demis Nikolaidis, a striker currently at Atletico Madrid, helmed an attempted takeover plan for AEK Athens, whose players turned it down last week. The next day a large group of fans turned up at the training ground and proceeded to decimate it and attack players. Playmaker Vassilis Tsiartas, one of five AEK players in the team, accused Nikolaidis of condoning this, saying "I am really sorry that we will be together on the team for all this time".

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : Loathe To G Her (more of an unsuccessful hip-hop track title)

And? : They have belief, but an ageing side gives them little real chance even before the internal warfare.

PORTUGAL

Narkiness level : Always unstable, their protestations after losing the 2000 semi-final to Abel Xavier's handball should have earned them a medal from UEFA or something.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : They've already got a big one in Helder Postiga, who was Porto's top scorer last season. Now they're in the Champions League final without him, which certainly demonstrates something. Deco has talked about following Mourinho to Stamford Bridge, which may be ensuring shortened nights round at Scott Parker's.

Best player left at home : One-time Best Keeper In Europe contender Vitor Baia has been out of Luiz Felipe Scolari's good books for some time over perceived indiscipline. Luis Boa Morte was considered a Scolari favourite until last week, while squad regular Hugo Viana also misses out.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : Scolari has a reputation for preferring workers to creatives, which makes you wonder why he took the Portugal job.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : Follicular Size Pie

And? : The great future contenders of European football, the last chance for the Golden Generation - flair should see them into the later stages of the knockout section, determination and the level of home backing will be crucial in whether that run continues.

RUSSIA

Narkiness : Not great.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : Smertin and Champions League final scorer Alenichev aside, Russians don't travel well - their all-time leading scorer Vladimir Beschastnykh fell completely out of favour after a spell in Spain so disastrous no top flight club wanted him when he moved back home.

Best player left at home : Georgi Yartsev has a number of injury worries and is delaying naming his final squad until the last possible day. Drugged-up playmaker Yegor Titov is definitely out, while veteran midfielder Valeri Karpin recently retired from international football.

Likelihood of internal squabbling : Not a great issue since the days of perceived CSKA/Lokomotiv squad cliques.

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : Age Strive Gory

And? : With a questionable defence and misfiring strikers it took a minor miracle for Russia to get to the play-offs. Any further than the group stage here would be beyond the dreams of avarice.

SPAIN

Narkiness : Always liable to go off on one at a moment's notice.

Player most likely to be big money Premiership flop : Rumour is that Manchester United are targeting Valencia winger Vicente, and we know what their form has been like with recent foreign signings. Raul Bravo nearly beat him to this mantle.

Best player left at home : Valencia's Mista played a big part in helping his side to the UEFA Cup and was the third highest scorer in La Liga, higher than any other Spaniard, so of course he was never in contention. No Reyes either - well, he's not a player for now, he's one for the future of Arsenal, isn't he?

Likelihood of internal squabbling : Most likely when they hear the first journalist ask "could this, at last, be your year?"

Vaguely amusing anagram of coach's name : I Iz A Snake

And? : It must work out for them eventually but precedent doesn't out work well in their favour, and the reliance on Raul as sole striker could backfire badly given his non-out and out striker status and appalling domestic season.