Harry and the things better left unsaid.

Despite having one, the truth is, I try not to think about groins too often. Let’s face it, one minute you’re obsessing, the next you want to ‘play for Palermo’.

But if there is a groin that has united the nation, that has made us want to dip our hands into the jar of massage oil and slather them all over that special part of a man’s world, stroking with the fierce intensity of an Eastern European healer yet with the soothing love of a friend, it would have to be Harry’s.

Despite everything we know about Harry, his occasional reluctance to play for the Socceroos, the difficulty of getting him to do an interview with the Diegos, the injuries, the rumours that he was   known as “Prince Harry” at Leeds, the seeming isolation from other squad members that sometimes filters through and the spectre that “brand Harry” needs to be guarded at all cost, Australia rightly loves him and his groin.

Harry’s anger over Robbie Slater’s article in The Sunday Telegraph this past week claiming that someone in the squad used the “F” word to express the view that Harry should move on, coupled with Slater’s opinion that Harry should not have been picked given the injuries that plagued his season, courted a passionate response from the player.

Harry picked up the phone and then got into a heated ‘On Air’ slanging match with Slater. It made compelling, and maybe even a little bit embarrassing, television. Slater asserted his right to an opinion and Harry demanded that he name his source, questioning the veracity of the rumour. The low point was Harry’s accusation that Slater was motivated by jealousy.

Though a tad misdirected, what I respected was Kewell’s passion. This was not a manufactured, pre scripted response, this was a bloke sticking up for himself and maybe even all Socceroos. The reality is that Kewell’s phone call probably gave more legs to the issue than Slater’s piece, so the fact that Harry put it ‘out there’ speaks volumes.

Though Slater has every right to cast his opinion about Harry’s selection, it seems that the real sore point concerning the whole incident was that Slater went public with information that should’ve remained inside the camp. Robbie, a former Socceroo with lots of contacts in and around the team, looks to have broken a code of silence that protects all players. By quoting a player, doesn’t Robbie destabilise the peace of mind of the whole squad, not just Harry’s? And does he have dirt on other players that should also come out? In the history of Slater’s time with the Socceroos and beyond, there must be much that was left unsaid for the good of the team.

There is no doubt that Harry Kewell is one of Australia’s most gifted footballers and that a fit, fired up Kewell is exactly what every fan and player wants to see in the squad, Robbie Slater included. If Harry wasn’t fit enough to play, if there is a ‘circus’ that follows him, that’s not necessarily his call. Nothing the Socceroos did pre-tournament was mind blowing and the whole squad courted attention and scrutiny. And when they got it after the Germany game, none of them managed it well.

When the squad for the Ghana game was announced, despite Tim Cahill’s absence, the excitement was palpable. Harry didn’t do that much, but having him there made the team dangerous. Losing him was devastating. He was gutted, we all were.

From the time of the 2006 campaign and after an injury ravaged and disappointing stint at Liverpool (I have to say that his last season, despite the lack of goals, was his best with the Reds), I think Harry has always looked like he loves playing for the Socceroos and has put his body and career on the line for his country. This might be driven by his interest in protecting his brand, but I think it’s also tied with his love for the game.

From my position Harry, the brand and player, though at times aloof, has been professional and I admire his attitude on the pitch. While I don’t know what happens off it, inside camp or at training, we should judge him from the way he plays.

Harry being told ‘where to go’ is certainly good gossip, it may even be true, but I think it ultimately disrespects and undermines a player who has worked hard for his country. Robbie certainly had a spicy quote, but he could’ve made his point without it. Ouch.

Vinnie Venezuela

Men of glass should not throw stones

In Spain, during and after his injury plagued spell with Real Madrid, they use to call Arjen Robben the “man of glass”. Now, despite this, and ignoring the sort of strange facial winces he tends to put out there, I think he is dynamite.

Robben has an explosive turn of pace and wonderful control and the Netherlands really only looked like a chance of making the finals of the World Cup in 2010 when he rejoined the squad for their second game in the tournament.

The amazing thing about Robben is that even though every defender knows he will make a run from the right then cut in and have a crack with his left, no one can stop him. And if he’s not scoring with that left foot, he can even put that very unique noggin of his to good use as he showed in the Germany game; I just wish he had wiped off all the specks of grass that were left on his face after his goal celebration.

Robben is animated, he’s passionate and he’s eccentric. He also tends to milk things and carry on a bit, sort of like Drogba.  Perhaps it’s all a mark of his genius.

The sad thing for him and Didier is that they both risk soaking their names in thick, oozing, sticky mud if they keep getting excessive in both their calls for free kicks or even their post match brain explosions. I wonder if Jurgen Klinsmann, one of Germany’s greatest players, is remembered more for his brilliant work on the pitch or for his diving?

I get that “man of glass” was upset after the game and needed to vent, but I was still surprised because he should know better by now.

Earlier in the year when his Bayern Munich coach, Luis Van Gaal subbed him during the 2010 Champion’s League campaign, Arjen went “off” and the result was that Van Gaal gave him a huge serve on the sideline, reminding him to keep it together and who really was the “king of the castle” at the club. It worked for a bit.

The problem I have with Arjen’s – and, for that matter, any of the Dutch squad’s -  brain explosions directed at Webb for the way the game turned out is that everything that went wrong was their fault, not his.

That first half saw the Dutch flex their muscles and keen to stamp their presence on the game by literally stamping on their opposition; in fact, Xabi Alonso probably realised the pain Materazzi went through in the last World Cup in his efforts to secure a date with Zidane’s sister. How was that kick in the chest by De Jong not a red and did any Dutch player thank Webb for protecting their interests?

 The Dutch’s physicality must have been part of the game plan because they sought to unsettle the Spanish for 45 min. It also seemed to me that at half time, Van Marwijk gave them a different brief and that’s when they finally came out to play and present Spain with problems of the ‘beautiful game’ kind.

The truth is that Spain created quite a few chances for themselves, despite the Dutch sitting back. At the very least, Ramos should’ve scored in the first half and Cesc should have scored in the second. In fact, how the hell did he miss?

The other obvious one, of course, is that “man of glass”, who received a glorious through ball from Sneijder, also missed a sitter. That would have hurt. It’s also why he just should have taken the loss, as shattering as it was, quietly. Don’t you think?

Vinnie Venezuela

Italy ... if only looks could kill.

While it is a truth universally accepted that every Pele worshipping fan of the game wants to play like a Brazilian, it is equally true that the same said lover of the sport, wants to look like an Italian while doing so.

For the Italians, the beautiful game must be understood in its literal sense first as there is little point taking the field unless the kit is Milan runway perfect and the hair is just right. Clearly, it is from their exterior confidence that the Italians can then tap into their inner Paolo Rossi and produce sublime skill, deft touch and amazing daring.

Ironically, the country has also spurned players who have flown in the face of such sacrosanct superficiality and have looked quite understated for Italians. Branded the “new black” of Italy, while still being azzurri- blue, Cannavaro, Vieri, Materazzi are just some of the great players of recent times who, though they didn’t make it about the hair or Berlusconi spray tan, still looked amazingly good. Indeed, such was Materazzi’s inner glow and confidence that he even took to tweaking the nipple of one of the game’s all time greats in a world cup final and then having his offer to share his inner glow with the sister of the player emphatically rejected. As is now well known, Zinedine Zidane’s forthright head butt to the chest of Materazzi hurt quite a bit and Materazzi never got to first base with Miss Zidane.

The Italians approach every world cup as if it were a slow cooking festival with the aim being to make sure that they get to the final banquet with a well prepared, basted and seasoned feast. Such is their main goal, that the necessity of actually scoring goals is ignored, at which time every Italian’s inner Gordon Ramsey is unleashed. And while the media calls for the head of the head coach, the Italian federation starts interviewing replacements for the next world cup. In a wonderfully quirky and Italian way, it is also not uncommon for the next replacement to be the guy they sacked at the previous world cup.

The benefit of looking so god damn cool in your Versace strip is that it also tends to have a calming influence and at such times when the prongs up front fail to deliver, it is only the Italian back line that can withstand the marauding attacks of any other team in the world without raising a sweat (and ruining the Versace strip). Part of the art of Italian football is knowing how not to concede, a feat the The Azzurri could probably manage with just the keeper on the pitch.

Given Italy’s pedigree and commitment to strategic gamesmanship, the world pretty much expects them to make the final and, most likely, lose it on penalties. The truth is, the penalty shoot out is just not their “thing” and not even these King’s of Cooldom can deny it. Many a great Italian player – Baggio , Donadoni, Baresi -  who has been called to bring it home at the spot, has crumbled and that’s ok because even when they weep inconsolably, they still look good. Quite possibly the biggest surprise for Italy fans across the globe was that they actually won last world cup on the shoot out. In fact, the Azzurri were so clinically precise many thought them to be Germans.

In 2010, though they still looked a treat, re-hired Lippi, their 2006 World Cup winning coach and had the nicest of reunions for players like Buffon, Cannavaro, Camorenesi and Gattuso, the boys just didn’t play with any intensity, although I did like Pepe and Marchisio.

Curiously, it was as if they kept forgetting that they had only drawn the previous game and didn’t need to win the next one. Apart from their final 15 minutes in the game against Slovakia when they fired up, finally realizing that the dream was crumbling and that they had forgotten to organise any family to pick them up from the airport, the only other highlight for me was watching Lippi swear in Italian every time the camera cut to him. As for the game against the Kiwis, at least the generosity of the country was showcased and I’m sure it was really nice for them to know they had contributed to another nation’s greatest triumph. I wonder if they also gave the Kiwis some food to take home?

They say elephants have long memories and maybe, some good will come of the Azzuris time in Africa. They really do need to remember that they were horrible. In fact they need to remember that they are better when they forget they are Italian and play with intensity, passion and desperation. Maybe they should even nominate for the next Group of Death so that they stay on their toes from the get go..

With Cesare Prandelli sworn in as new coach and promising to invest the squad with youth, vitality and maybe even Balotelli, their future should be bright.

Hopefully, next time they won’t only look good.

Vinnie Venezuela

Beer and the Fifth Beatle

What I have always loved about the Hofbrauhaus experience in Munich is that the big, angry fraulein-waitress always delivers the 12 steins of beer to the one table at the same time. And she has no time for grins or fluffy talk, she is focussed on her job and she does it well. Scarily well.

The other important thing is that there is no room in the order for a bourbon and coke or a sauv blanc. The experience is all about everyone working as a unit and getting hammered on the same stuff at the same time.

Like the Hofbrauhaus experience, German football is about inclusiveness, getting from Point A to B pretty quickly and saying “no” to anything that comes with a cocktail umbrella - far too much form with little function.

In fact, I reckon they’d knock back Ronaldo aka “The Gelled One” and his offer of eight step-overs with a twist of lemon because he’d want his number on the said cocktail umbrella and would probably just prattle on about Castrol oil.

I have always loved the German style of World Footy and, after the 2006 World Cup, said that someone like Juergen Klinsmann should coach the Socceroos. For the record, I also liked Ricardo Lavolpe, the angry Argentinian who coached Mexico in that tournament for the same reason. Both Germany and Mexico built their squads around pace, fast breaks and decisive movements as Hiddink did with the Socceroos. For me, that was the way forward because it would be playing to our strengths.

Many said that the man behind Juergen at the last World Cup was Joachim Low aka The Fifth Beatle.

Uber meister Low works with what he’s got, he gets the mix between youth and experience right and makes it about the midfielders serving the two prongs with killer diagonals, jubilani or not. And so far, losing Ballack has not been a problem. In fact, Germany shows us that even out of form strikers can rise with the right service.

The Socceroos will probably never play like Brazilians and that’s ok because we have the physical presence, the hunger, technical ability and attitude to play like Germans.

Rather than go wide and whip it over via a floated diagonal all of the time, let’s have a crack at kicking into space with piercing through balls. The Germany team don’t occupy a space, they wait and then fill it and they fill it really quickly. Let’s maraud like they do, it looks like fun.

If any good came out our 4 zip loss to Germany, let it be that we took notes on how to play positive, attacking football because we had them rattled for the 5 minutes at the start when we actually did.

I don’t want to go Dutch anymore. Let’s go Deutsch. I’d happily drink to that, I’d even get the first shout.

Vinnie Venezueala