Three soccer finals

On Sunday, the final matches were held for three major tournaments.

The Women’s World Cup final

I watched much of this – but not all of it (there were competing obligations of church and lunch).

The gringas appeared to be as dominant as they ever have been in history.

The Dutch weren’t bad, exactly, but their plan was too timid: they defended near their own goal and tried to counterattack with just one or two players. Their goose was cooked when they committed a ridiculous penalty foul which gave the USA the lead.

On the gringas’ second goal, the Dutch backpedaled down the middle of the field until the opposing ball carrier was close enough to shoot.

Here are scenes of the gringas partying in their locker room.

The Copa América final

This was a good, old-fashioned Southern Cone-style brawl. Don’t let Brazil’s glamorous reputation fool you. This team is basically another Uruguay – very tough on defense, organized without the ball, slick in attack at the most devastating moments.

The referee called two controversial penalties – one for each side, which I thought good – and had the guts to eject the diaper boy Gabriel Jesus.

Let me forestall misunderstanding: I like Gabriel Jesus, despite his rather sordid tastes (according to Wikipedia, he “reportedly chose to wear number 33” for his club team, Manchester City, “in tribute to the age at which Jesus Christ is believed to have been crucified,” and he and fellow diaper boy Neymar “got matching tattoos … depicting a boy overlooking a favela”). On the field, everything Gabriel Jesus does is productive – which distinguishes him from Neymar.

If Neymar had been playing, I doubt Brazil would’ve been able to control the game so well without the ball. Neymar would’ve insisted on dribbling everywhere.

Instead, he watched from the stands. (The next day, he would miss a training session for his club team, Paris Saint-Germain, triggering much speculation in the press.) He’d been left off Brazil’s roster because of an ankle injury. He’d also been accused of rape.

His replacement, Everton, won the tourney’s Golden Ball award and, in the final match, scored a goal and drew a penalty foul.

Of the Peruvians, we can say that they played well but were unable to break down the Brazilian defense.

The Gold Cup final

I only saw the highlights of this final, which appears to have been a closer contest than I expected.

Some of my friends here in South Bend are diehard USA fans. I wonder: did any of them make the trip to Soldier Field in Chicago?

If so, what was it like in that cauldron, 75% of which was occupied by fans of Mexico?

Copa América USA

After the first few games, this sad announcement: “United States May Become Permanent Host of Copa América.” The idea is to merge the Copa América and the Gold Cup, following the blueprint of the latter. (I’ve also seen this news in the Ecuadorian press.)

So much for the CONMEBOL’s policy of giving each country its turn to host the tournament.

So much for the poor citizen of Ecuador or Bolivia or Brazil who’d never travel to the United States – who would attend the tourney in his homeland, or who’d at least partake in the festivities in his homeland. “Hosting doesn’t make you rich,” say the authors of the book Soccernomics, “but it does make you happier.” When the games are at home, what the people gain is “a sense of belonging” – and sometimes, literally, “a lifesaver” (the local suicide rate goes down; so does depression).

I remember the 1993 Copa América in Ecuador. We weren’t very good at soccer, but the country rallied together and the players gave decent performances and improved their self-belief. This was crucial for our team’s development.

But because the CONCACAF’s Gold Cup is always held in the United States, there’s no prospect of such a boost for nations like El Salvador or Haiti. The Gold Cup is a charade, not a bona fide contest. The Copa América and the Euros and the Africa Cup of Nations may’ve had their injustices; but, to their credit, they’ve been staged in such humble locations as Paraguay (1997) and Poland (2012), Angola (2010) and Burkina Faso (1998), Gabon (2012) and tiny Equatorial Guinea (2012, 2015).

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

What should the gringos expect to gain from becoming the perpetual gatekeepers? Only money.

For gringos, soccer doesn’t matter to national identity. They have nothing like the wholehearted consensus about this sport that exists in other countries. The gringos would never put aside their domestic differences for soccer’s sake.

Nor have they shown that they wish to commune with other nations over soccer. They’ve been invited to the Copa América every time since 1993, but they haven’t participated in it since 1995. [Correction, from Stephen: they participated in 2007.]

Nor are the gringos very concerned with being hospitable. Never mind that they might make Donald Trump their president: they don’t care enough to use the correct spelling of “Colombia.”

They don’t care enough to play the other countries’ anthems properly. So far, in this tourney, they’ve played Chile’s anthem instead of Uruguay’s, and they’ve cut off Chile’s anthem prematurely. They’ve shown disrespect for the national identities that make these games so meaningful for South Americans.

In Ecuador, Independiente del Valle, a modest club, is donating its ticket proceeds to Ecuadorians who were stricken by the recent earthquake.

In the United States, the rich have no qualms about scheming to take away a comforting tradition from the people who live in South America.

There were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor.

The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds:

But the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had bought and nourished up: and it grew up together with him, and with his children; it did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter. …

Copa de Oro

Europeans have the Euros; South Americans play in the Copa América; the nations of North and Central America and the Caribbean put on a farce called the Gold Cup.

In recent years, the tournament has always been hosted by the USA – the venue where the profits can be maximized – and, in effect, co-hosted by Mexico, whose fans fill the seats. The victories have gone to the U.S. or to Mexico. It’s in the interest of those countries to maintain the status quo, and to collude.

Well, last night, in Semifinal No. 1, the U.S. were upset by Jamaica. Martin was sad. I wasn’t.

In Semifinal No. 2, the Panamanians were outplaying Mexico – and they were winning, despite an early red card (much too soft, I thought).

Jamaica vs. Panama in the final. I was warming up to the idea (though I knew that the gaudy NFL stadium in Philadelphia wouldn’t sell out). Mexico and the U.S. hadn’t done squat all tournament. The Panamanians were actually a little bit interesting to watch. I mean: under pressure, they would bring the ball out with calm, short passes; that’s usually a sign of interestingness.

And then, in the dying seconds – for the second straight game – the Mexicans were gifted a bogus penalty kick by the referee.

The Panamanians were furious, of course. Their bench players charged the field, with my full sympathy (and I don’t often give out sympathy for that). Mark Geiger, the gringo referee, sheepishly refrained from punishing any of them. But the damage had been done; the call stood; the Mexicans had the opportunity to equalize the score.

What was most interesting, though, was the booth commentary, which was by Mexicans (e.g., Jorge Campos). All of them were outraged. Not like this, they kept on saying. Not with another bogus penalty, not for this sorry team. Mexico is undeserving.

Touchingly, they pleaded with Andrés Guardado to miss the penalty kick, on purpose. He didn’t miss it.

During the overtime, the Panamanians were tired. Mexico scored with another penalty kick; and I thought, “This might just be the worst game I’ve ever watched.” (This, after the dismal quarterfinal between Mexico and Costa Rica.)

In soccer, the gravest injustices are arranged “behind the scenes.” Still, I’m grateful when they’re this blatant so that even the purported beneficiaries can’t but be disgusted.

I hope this helps to make a better world.