There are many things that take one by surprise in life. Upon arrival in Beira, now over nearly 2 weeks back I had asked , "What is there to see in Beira?" To my surprise the major historic point of interest was not a museum or the beach, rather a decadent, monstrous hotel built in the 1950´s post WWII to attract the wealthy & well to do from Former Rhodesia, as well as around the world.
For nearly 3 decades & through the 2nd Mozambiquen Civil war, the hotel has been a refugee camp for the extremly poor & many whom flock to the city. Upon arriving at this massive beach-side Monstrous cement housing complex I was completely dumb-founded by the visual. There were boys playing soccer inside the massive former courtyard, next to the art~deco structured building, perhaps once even the hotel garden. I realized immediately I was seeing something all together unique from my other experiences traveling in over 28 different countries. As the sun began to drift I wandered around the outside the exterior of the building premises, where there still exists an olympic sized pool, built parallel the base of the hotel. On one edge of the pull, there was trash filled corners & rats scurrying around. On the deeper end of the pool there was a bit of fetid water. A mother brought her child poolside & with a roped plastic bucket lowered it into the fetid water to extract & then bath her son. Immune system= extraterrestial!
I would suppose many people reading this would already be critizing, "what are you doing vouyering into a community as such?", however it was unprovoked & rather unplanned, as well as totally unexpectedly surreal on so many levels. I couldn´t determine what I wittnessing was purely awful & tragic, or rather a monumental yet slim glimmer of hope, viewing human kind that is innocent when not having any conditions but to take to such a squalid yet impactful living setting due to it´s monstrous size.
Walking to the back of the art~deco hollowed out hotel, there was a movie room/ hut constructed of hay & wood that was blasting an unrecognizable yet horrid american movie from the 80´s as well as another unrecognizable trash hip hop song from a later period. There were countless girls jumping around dancing with sticks, joyously immune to their health standard- living situation. For many a moment I felt I´d been transported to a Post-Apocalyptic world, the nergy was soemthing I had never experienced. There seemed to exist no condition for hatred, violence, anger, rather a simple & shameless content life & self existence.
I would have expected individuals to be rather aggressive towards me intruding upon their living grounds, territorial rather. However the exterior conditions suggested, "What is there to ask 4?" of what material value would be placed where in the interior of the hotel if not out of reach- sight of the other 700-1000 inhabitants of the Grande Hotel?
Having a local take me inside the following day was even more shocking & somehow bizarrely profound. Within many of the corridors & the darkness, I was impacted to see the same style of African women in colorful garbs "Capulanas", seated on buckets behind their produce- soaps,little piles of carbon (which is used to cook everything in Mozambique, being that it´s more affordable than gas!), alluminum packed snacks for sale! As if one were going for a casual stroll in the town praca center or random market. There these women were, waiting, chatting, laughing, the only difference being that they were squatting inside the darkness of their housing facility, extreme darkness on a normal sunny afternoon. Electricity, plumbing= non-existant to most of these people before they ever moved into the Hotel at seperate periods & for various lengths of time.
Over the course of 1975-1981, the entire hotel was stripped of all its prior grandeur, marble, gold, (glass is a luxury in many parts of Africa). The only occasional decoration aside from hung-to-dry Clothes & wraps is random Graffiti & FRELIMO (The still governing political Party) Propaganda. Rotting Stickers of FRELIMO, the Drum & rocketing Corn diagonalling across the drum. Corn the mass produced crop to evict hunger & which supplies about 80 percent of the population from hunger in non coastal areas.
!Frelimo e que Fez!
!Frelimo e que Faz!
Perhaps the most striking aspect aside from the precarious housing refugee reality, is that the building(disintegrating due to proximity w- sea salt) has been stripped of everything. It appears in inital stages of construction & the Art-deco archictectural building. Imagining the ball room as it were, but rather staring into the ceiling to see streaks of sun shining into the darkness of what once was while children run around full of energy unconscoius of a seperate world otside of their neighborhood. Just a 10 min stroll up the coastline north is a nicer neighborhood known as Miramar, where there are a few Beachside Bars owned by Portuguese selling Beer to locals & a few random tourists.
Atop the highest point of the Grande Hotel roof top terrace, the building offers the most beautiful views one has to offer in the entire city of Beira & along the coastline stretching North to South. Truly another world apart.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
End of World Cup Rollercoaster Frills
While I would have to back track my journal entries, there was much writing that I was unable to post for the last 3 weeks doue to lack of internet accessibility.
However I´ll fly through what were my immediate dissapointments & poor predictions at the quarterfinals stages. Basically, I was delighted with the final 8 teams, & w-Spain being my least favorate (also the least convincing team to have reached the final 8), all 4 teams I wanted to win, Ghana, Brasil, Argentina, Paraguay lost!
Where to begin, with Argentina, my San Palermo prediction fell way short as their was no defensive discipline, & a lack of ideas when getting to final 3rd of the box to finalize. It was almost embarassing for a growing Argentina to go out the way they did, I was watching in pain as the score had turned 3-0, 2 mins later the power went out at the bar in Maputo where we were watching the match. I still hoping for a miracle ran 2 blocks away to another & watching from outside couldn´t help but smile when the 4th was blasted in by Klose. Watching a replay of the last 20 mins 5 days later in my hotel lobby in Beira I´ll never forget the Portuguese commentator stating after Messi had one last shot on goal easily placed right to the goal keeper, "Agora, Messi vai pra casa sem marcar nehum gol, Argentina vai pra casa totalmente Humilhiado!" I recall so many Argentinians stating , "Oh yes Messi hasn't scored, but still I like &think that he played well." I personally never subscribed to that, the greats have to score, other wise it´s never the same. Messi playing out of position as a number 10 in the midfield was the ultimate reason for his failure as well. Me & Eric will forever be Villero supporters of the tenacious Tevez, who always left it all on the pitch!
The hardest game to swallow was the Ghana vs. Uruguay, hands down the most exciting match I´ve ever witnessed, yes it had a tragic ending, but for me stands as a historic game & easily surpassed the prior most exciting game I´d ever watched being Argentina vs. England 98´.
Naturally when Gyan missed the penalty that was supposed to have sealed the game in most dramatic fashion there was still some sort of blind fate I suppose.
For me without a doubt the height of the entire rollercoaster viewing experience was when Appiah slammed home the second penalty for Ghana, blasting into the upper corner & began pounding his chest roaring into the stands, I was whispering to Eric frantically, "They´re going to fucking do it man!" & the whole fate of Africa must have felt something similar. When Mensah stepped up for the 3rd I´ll never forget Eric tell me, "What´s he going to do, head it in?" & as a lame have step back & easy pass to the goalie, that was easily the lamest attempt I had witnessed under that sort of pressure.
While all of Africa had it´s fingers crossed for Kingson to make a stop on Uruguays last penalty take, I saw Loco Abreu´walking from Midfield & I subconsciously, removed from any sort of emotion realized & whsipered to Eric, "Fuck it´s over man, this guy doesn´t miss!". I had immediate flashbacks of Loco Abreu slamming in penalties for San Lorenzo in the Argentine league dating as far back from 98´as well as cool finishes for Botafogo only weeks before the cup. Ás he stepped up cool as ice, we watched in slow motion as he chipped the perfect penalty & subconsounciously pumped my fists not for the fact that Uruguay had won, but at how expertly he had taken the kick. It was the most silent moment maybe in the history of Africa, one could have heard a pin drop in the rakous restaurant. Africa was done, & many peoples spirits were devasted.
I realized a day later that Cardozo of Paraguay & Gyan of Ghana would have to attend the "Loco" Abreu school of penalty kicks under pressure, however on that stage, they will have to live with those misses for the rest of their lives. It´s a seperate experience to miss a a penalty at the end of a match in real time vs. a penalty kick shootout loss of concentration. Brutal is an understatement.
One of the only matches I missed, by axccident due to a 7 hour bus delay was the Spain vs. Germany match. Would Cacau & Mueller have made the difference if they weren´t suspended? I would say absolutely! For most all fans, I had taken my hat off to Germany & really wanted & expected them to slaughter all teams in their patch after 4-1, 4-0 demolishions of ARg & England. Still it was meant to be that I missede that match, I would have suffered too much.
Pulling into a rural bus stop 5 hours from Beira, I asked to young Boys,
"Que qanou o jogo?"
"Espana"
"Nao acreditou, como ficou? Quem fez o golo?
"Nao sei o nome acho que foi o numero 5."
"Puyols, aqulle cabellinho?"
"Sim foi ele!"
I had relegated myself at that point to rooting for Urugauy, & thought that although they were lucky to escape from Ghana victorious they played fabulously, & definitely gave Holland a run for their money. That Forlan goal to tie the match vs. Holland was something else!
As it turned that Spain was able to steal that final gol vs. Holland, whom I really prefered to take the cup, I think this cup is historic for the way it played out. A very mediocre team in Spain, loaded with talent & basically became a Barca 6 man starting lineúp after del Bosque figured out he needed to bench the pretty boy Torres for that nasty & aggressive Pedro in the final match. A team that should have been sent packing by Paraguay, (there was a first half gol, dissalowed, totally onsides, GO TO THE TAPE! The Cardozo miss.
The least convincing team to slide into the semifinals in the hsitory of the world cup, But then managing to play very tough in it´s final 2 matches to win the whole thing, still a hard pill to swallow! I would have liked any of the other 6 teams, Paraguay had no realistic Chance, but they still blew a schock victory OPPORTUNITY against the now World Champions. A Spanish friend e'mailed me to express his Shock & surprise of good fortune!
However I´ll fly through what were my immediate dissapointments & poor predictions at the quarterfinals stages. Basically, I was delighted with the final 8 teams, & w-Spain being my least favorate (also the least convincing team to have reached the final 8), all 4 teams I wanted to win, Ghana, Brasil, Argentina, Paraguay lost!
Where to begin, with Argentina, my San Palermo prediction fell way short as their was no defensive discipline, & a lack of ideas when getting to final 3rd of the box to finalize. It was almost embarassing for a growing Argentina to go out the way they did, I was watching in pain as the score had turned 3-0, 2 mins later the power went out at the bar in Maputo where we were watching the match. I still hoping for a miracle ran 2 blocks away to another & watching from outside couldn´t help but smile when the 4th was blasted in by Klose. Watching a replay of the last 20 mins 5 days later in my hotel lobby in Beira I´ll never forget the Portuguese commentator stating after Messi had one last shot on goal easily placed right to the goal keeper, "Agora, Messi vai pra casa sem marcar nehum gol, Argentina vai pra casa totalmente Humilhiado!" I recall so many Argentinians stating , "Oh yes Messi hasn't scored, but still I like &think that he played well." I personally never subscribed to that, the greats have to score, other wise it´s never the same. Messi playing out of position as a number 10 in the midfield was the ultimate reason for his failure as well. Me & Eric will forever be Villero supporters of the tenacious Tevez, who always left it all on the pitch!
The hardest game to swallow was the Ghana vs. Uruguay, hands down the most exciting match I´ve ever witnessed, yes it had a tragic ending, but for me stands as a historic game & easily surpassed the prior most exciting game I´d ever watched being Argentina vs. England 98´.
Naturally when Gyan missed the penalty that was supposed to have sealed the game in most dramatic fashion there was still some sort of blind fate I suppose.
For me without a doubt the height of the entire rollercoaster viewing experience was when Appiah slammed home the second penalty for Ghana, blasting into the upper corner & began pounding his chest roaring into the stands, I was whispering to Eric frantically, "They´re going to fucking do it man!" & the whole fate of Africa must have felt something similar. When Mensah stepped up for the 3rd I´ll never forget Eric tell me, "What´s he going to do, head it in?" & as a lame have step back & easy pass to the goalie, that was easily the lamest attempt I had witnessed under that sort of pressure.
While all of Africa had it´s fingers crossed for Kingson to make a stop on Uruguays last penalty take, I saw Loco Abreu´walking from Midfield & I subconsciously, removed from any sort of emotion realized & whsipered to Eric, "Fuck it´s over man, this guy doesn´t miss!". I had immediate flashbacks of Loco Abreu slamming in penalties for San Lorenzo in the Argentine league dating as far back from 98´as well as cool finishes for Botafogo only weeks before the cup. Ás he stepped up cool as ice, we watched in slow motion as he chipped the perfect penalty & subconsounciously pumped my fists not for the fact that Uruguay had won, but at how expertly he had taken the kick. It was the most silent moment maybe in the history of Africa, one could have heard a pin drop in the rakous restaurant. Africa was done, & many peoples spirits were devasted.
I realized a day later that Cardozo of Paraguay & Gyan of Ghana would have to attend the "Loco" Abreu school of penalty kicks under pressure, however on that stage, they will have to live with those misses for the rest of their lives. It´s a seperate experience to miss a a penalty at the end of a match in real time vs. a penalty kick shootout loss of concentration. Brutal is an understatement.
One of the only matches I missed, by axccident due to a 7 hour bus delay was the Spain vs. Germany match. Would Cacau & Mueller have made the difference if they weren´t suspended? I would say absolutely! For most all fans, I had taken my hat off to Germany & really wanted & expected them to slaughter all teams in their patch after 4-1, 4-0 demolishions of ARg & England. Still it was meant to be that I missede that match, I would have suffered too much.
Pulling into a rural bus stop 5 hours from Beira, I asked to young Boys,
"Que qanou o jogo?"
"Espana"
"Nao acreditou, como ficou? Quem fez o golo?
"Nao sei o nome acho que foi o numero 5."
"Puyols, aqulle cabellinho?"
"Sim foi ele!"
I had relegated myself at that point to rooting for Urugauy, & thought that although they were lucky to escape from Ghana victorious they played fabulously, & definitely gave Holland a run for their money. That Forlan goal to tie the match vs. Holland was something else!
As it turned that Spain was able to steal that final gol vs. Holland, whom I really prefered to take the cup, I think this cup is historic for the way it played out. A very mediocre team in Spain, loaded with talent & basically became a Barca 6 man starting lineúp after del Bosque figured out he needed to bench the pretty boy Torres for that nasty & aggressive Pedro in the final match. A team that should have been sent packing by Paraguay, (there was a first half gol, dissalowed, totally onsides, GO TO THE TAPE! The Cardozo miss.
The least convincing team to slide into the semifinals in the hsitory of the world cup, But then managing to play very tough in it´s final 2 matches to win the whole thing, still a hard pill to swallow! I would have liked any of the other 6 teams, Paraguay had no realistic Chance, but they still blew a schock victory OPPORTUNITY against the now World Champions. A Spanish friend e'mailed me to express his Shock & surprise of good fortune!
Monday, July 19, 2010
Vilankulos
Midway between Beira & Maputo is a beautiful & pristine archipelago 10 km offshore from the town of Vilankulos. I arrived a week back late in the afternoon after enduring one of many Mozambiquen style (before the crack of dawn departures ranging 2am -5am) departures leaving Beira. I have been accompanied the last week by a young French kid named Samuel who befriended me in the Beira city-center market.
After a been-soup & cold Manica beer to decompress, we asked our server at the Vilankulos bs terminal where to head for budget accommodation? Apparently she she didn't receive that question to often, whereas she walked us down down to the beachfront (10 mins)& to a cement block (Bar Tropical) perched right on top of teh most beautiful sea view in town.
The owners of the bar offered us a traditional straw hut house inside of a well groomed sand courtyard, shaded by a massive manzanika tree for about $7.50 a night, "We´ll take it!"
I had a good feeling upon arrival, however we were presently surprised to find it the most paradisaical lazy stay in Mozambique by far! The entire town is built on sand, whereas waking up every morning to a coffee, later to be on the sea (literally in a boat, or knee deep crab fishing for our first lunch. I´ve never eaten endless amounts of fresh seafood for pennies on the dollar.
The first morning we were inquiring about snorkeling prices w/ the few tourist agencies, walking back on the beach Samuel found a stick & we were taken by the amount of fishermen/ women knee deep in Crystalline clear water 500 meters offshore. We became immediately inspired.
"Look I have one one! Im going to keel him!"
Samuel´s 1st kill was a baby crab that he punctured in half. Still we proudly scooped what was left of him & brought it to the gorgeous Bar tropical Maitre´d ee Samira. Samira is a 20 something bombshell whom is the epitome of a voluptuous tropical fantasy girl. "She´s perfect!" Samuel would continuously repeat during our stay. It couldn't sound more cliche, however Samira is one of the most beautiful woemn most men ever lay eyes on.
Surely if Samuel could snap a baby crab in inch deep water, the waters were destined to be plentiful. "Esta cheio!" gestured a lazy man seashore pinching his fingers together to demonstrate the Portuguese signal for full & plentiful. In-suing, we dashed into the water not properly equipped, me w- the Bar Tropical plastic dish holder & a soccer jersey which ended up to be crucial in holding our eventual catch.
As we approached the bulk of the fisher-women, most elderly dawning bright colorful head cloths "Capulanas" I tried to give Samuel some pointers on the proper techniques. Within a span of 15 minutes & from about 10 meters away we watched in awe as a 60 year old woman would take about 2 steps through the seaweed, methodically adjust her stance, loosen her foot & then plunge her iron rod a foot deep into the sand to pull out a neon-colored crab.
"oahh! Look at dat! Sheez incredibal!" The women to our amazement pulled up about 10 crabs in 15 minutes, decades of experience she had a 6th sense for hunting crabs. After realizing our stick was not sharp enough we relegated ourselves to an inferior & primitive job of digging our hands around in the sand for clams.
"Ahh fuck come on! Gibe me dee stick! Samuel had caught his first crab by luck after he had been bitten digging for clams. As the clouds began to darken overhead, a young man covered in squid ink approached us & warned it was time to go to shore, "Vem conmigo!"
Fighting the tide I spotted what was my last chance to puncture a nearly translucent looking fish. After the 2nd try I was sure I had lost him. Afelo however whose catch of the day up till then numbered 4 crabs & a similar number of squid stuck with the moving translucent creature. Powering- Sprinting in knee deep waterfor at least 200 meters, constantly watching his pace so as not to frighten the fish. AFter a 5 min further standoff Afelo leaped & plunged his iron rod one time, up he pulled a plump & black bleeding squid. I felt it was his catch, still he rewarded me with the #Lula# & showed me how to clean it!
After 3 hours on the water our 1st days catch included a crab, squid, & about 2-3 kilos of clams. Gleefully we returned to Bar tropical where within 20 minutes Samira had cooked up one of many incredible seafood meals. The following day Samuel was inquiring about Oysters "Ostras" the following morning the Bar Tropical owner had an 8 kilo bag filled w- hundreds of small live oysters waiting for a whopping $3 dollars! 100 metecais!
With such abundant seafood, we felt we were in heaven, every morning walking through the seafood market after our Petite Dejune routine of Coffee & bread. The same kids everyday holding massive tiger prawns in their hands & spiced w one liners, "Look my friend this is a tiger!"
"My friend, you looking for the tiger yes?" "Look it´s a big one!." or "My friend, this is a tiger!"
This beame the brunt of much of our inside joking over the next 5 days, when going back in the evening to haggle for prawns.
"My friend look at dees fish, you take it!"
Samuel; "Ahh, I´m looking for dee big one!"
Vendor "Vai levar o peixe?"
Samuel; "No! I want the Tiger, I want the big one!"
There are too many highlights yo pinpoint half of what was was so phenomenal about Vilankulos. We did a day trip to one of the islands, & yes the snorkeling & waters were splendid, yet my favorite moment was upon sailing back to shore drinking a coffee, having our captain teach me phrases in Matua (much to the Entertainment of the other 2 crew members.), one of 24 dialects in Mozambique.
The town & it´s inhabitants has a separate identity when comparing w- Beira & Maputo which imparticular have a distinct Muslim identity. Muslims are practically non-existent in Vilankulos, not sure why that would be?
I´m cutting it short due to time constraints, Maputo is the only place where internet functions at a respectable pace.
After a been-soup & cold Manica beer to decompress, we asked our server at the Vilankulos bs terminal where to head for budget accommodation? Apparently she she didn't receive that question to often, whereas she walked us down down to the beachfront (10 mins)& to a cement block (Bar Tropical) perched right on top of teh most beautiful sea view in town.
The owners of the bar offered us a traditional straw hut house inside of a well groomed sand courtyard, shaded by a massive manzanika tree for about $7.50 a night, "We´ll take it!"
I had a good feeling upon arrival, however we were presently surprised to find it the most paradisaical lazy stay in Mozambique by far! The entire town is built on sand, whereas waking up every morning to a coffee, later to be on the sea (literally in a boat, or knee deep crab fishing for our first lunch. I´ve never eaten endless amounts of fresh seafood for pennies on the dollar.
The first morning we were inquiring about snorkeling prices w/ the few tourist agencies, walking back on the beach Samuel found a stick & we were taken by the amount of fishermen/ women knee deep in Crystalline clear water 500 meters offshore. We became immediately inspired.
"Look I have one one! Im going to keel him!"
Samuel´s 1st kill was a baby crab that he punctured in half. Still we proudly scooped what was left of him & brought it to the gorgeous Bar tropical Maitre´d ee Samira. Samira is a 20 something bombshell whom is the epitome of a voluptuous tropical fantasy girl. "She´s perfect!" Samuel would continuously repeat during our stay. It couldn't sound more cliche, however Samira is one of the most beautiful woemn most men ever lay eyes on.
Surely if Samuel could snap a baby crab in inch deep water, the waters were destined to be plentiful. "Esta cheio!" gestured a lazy man seashore pinching his fingers together to demonstrate the Portuguese signal for full & plentiful. In-suing, we dashed into the water not properly equipped, me w- the Bar Tropical plastic dish holder & a soccer jersey which ended up to be crucial in holding our eventual catch.
As we approached the bulk of the fisher-women, most elderly dawning bright colorful head cloths "Capulanas" I tried to give Samuel some pointers on the proper techniques. Within a span of 15 minutes & from about 10 meters away we watched in awe as a 60 year old woman would take about 2 steps through the seaweed, methodically adjust her stance, loosen her foot & then plunge her iron rod a foot deep into the sand to pull out a neon-colored crab.
"oahh! Look at dat! Sheez incredibal!" The women to our amazement pulled up about 10 crabs in 15 minutes, decades of experience she had a 6th sense for hunting crabs. After realizing our stick was not sharp enough we relegated ourselves to an inferior & primitive job of digging our hands around in the sand for clams.
"Ahh fuck come on! Gibe me dee stick! Samuel had caught his first crab by luck after he had been bitten digging for clams. As the clouds began to darken overhead, a young man covered in squid ink approached us & warned it was time to go to shore, "Vem conmigo!"
Fighting the tide I spotted what was my last chance to puncture a nearly translucent looking fish. After the 2nd try I was sure I had lost him. Afelo however whose catch of the day up till then numbered 4 crabs & a similar number of squid stuck with the moving translucent creature. Powering- Sprinting in knee deep waterfor at least 200 meters, constantly watching his pace so as not to frighten the fish. AFter a 5 min further standoff Afelo leaped & plunged his iron rod one time, up he pulled a plump & black bleeding squid. I felt it was his catch, still he rewarded me with the #Lula# & showed me how to clean it!
After 3 hours on the water our 1st days catch included a crab, squid, & about 2-3 kilos of clams. Gleefully we returned to Bar tropical where within 20 minutes Samira had cooked up one of many incredible seafood meals. The following day Samuel was inquiring about Oysters "Ostras" the following morning the Bar Tropical owner had an 8 kilo bag filled w- hundreds of small live oysters waiting for a whopping $3 dollars! 100 metecais!
With such abundant seafood, we felt we were in heaven, every morning walking through the seafood market after our Petite Dejune routine of Coffee & bread. The same kids everyday holding massive tiger prawns in their hands & spiced w one liners, "Look my friend this is a tiger!"
"My friend, you looking for the tiger yes?" "Look it´s a big one!." or "My friend, this is a tiger!"
This beame the brunt of much of our inside joking over the next 5 days, when going back in the evening to haggle for prawns.
"My friend look at dees fish, you take it!"
Samuel; "Ahh, I´m looking for dee big one!"
Vendor "Vai levar o peixe?"
Samuel; "No! I want the Tiger, I want the big one!"
There are too many highlights yo pinpoint half of what was was so phenomenal about Vilankulos. We did a day trip to one of the islands, & yes the snorkeling & waters were splendid, yet my favorite moment was upon sailing back to shore drinking a coffee, having our captain teach me phrases in Matua (much to the Entertainment of the other 2 crew members.), one of 24 dialects in Mozambique.
The town & it´s inhabitants has a separate identity when comparing w- Beira & Maputo which imparticular have a distinct Muslim identity. Muslims are practically non-existent in Vilankulos, not sure why that would be?
I´m cutting it short due to time constraints, Maputo is the only place where internet functions at a respectable pace.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Visions of San Palermo
Just finished suffering through the Holland vs. Brasil match. I suppose it was meant to be on one behalf, whereas Holland are the strongest team in Europe contrary to many {expert analists views{. However sitting in a bar on 24 de Julio em Maputo Mozambique, away from the madness of an overcrowded South Africa, it was interesting that so many Africans in this Ex/Portuguese colony were rooting against Brasil.
@Agora acabou a historia do brasil!@ Shouted one dude after Felipe Melo was shown the red for an idiotic stomp on Robben. Brasil were somewhat dominant in the first half, in particular Robinho, ^ the stiff job that Bastos was putting on Robben was outstanding contrary to other suggestions of over fouling. However so much of the counter attack Mentality Dunga had based this Brasil team on, seamed to backfire under the heat. Ramires who was fantastic versus Chile but suspended for the Yellow Card rule, was sorely missed ironic enough. Where as Felipe Melo returning from the hot headed suspension vs. Portugal ^ had been one of the key players thus far turned in an absolute disastrous performance. Coupled with the absolute disappearance of offensive presence from Robinho ^ Luis Fabiano in the 2nd period, recipe for disaster!
@Agora o Dunga vem pelo Mocambique, nao pode voltar no Brasil!@ a man seated at our table commented amongst other one-liners that Dunga will be coming to join Eric and I in Mocambique before ever going back to Brasil! I saw it coming right before the red card, the loosing of the cool, the much emotion ^ anxiety, just like the Portugal game, Felipe Melo had lost his head and needed to be removed asap, Dunga didn]t see it, gameover.
Then to make it worst throwing everything on the line to tie the match last minute, it was a horrible mistake not to bring another striker in place of Gilberto or even Kaka. Only 2 subs, ^ Neilmar for Luis Fabiano, while the only other striker Dunga brought to South Africa in Grafite left on the bench to never even show his worth, that]s just plain stupidity. {Question mark!
I was a Dunga fan myself up until today, and to think Brasilian media wasn-t already having a field day, Dunga will most likely have to move to Portugal or Mcambique before ever stepping foot in Brasil again, what a shocker!
With 20 mins left in the match, a man shouts, @Mas, esa copa e do Maradona!@ As many with that Blind Argentine fate believe in a greater will that it is meant to be for Argentina this time around, I won-t go that far yet. In particularly if Arg manage to get by Germany, Spain poses a huge match-up problem for them ironically.
However the major difference in coaching tactics, is that sometimes you have to be a little crazy to make decisions that are offensive minded. One must believe that when the game is close late, whether a 1/1 or 2/2 scoreline headed into overtime, AND A LOADED Line/up *only# 3 viable subs, one better believe that the last will be reserved for Martin San Palermo to make history! I[m calling it right now, one minute into overtime, he will be inserted and score not one, but 2! to seal his fate as one of the craziest players the game has seen!
Of course I saw all this in dream, dozing off for 5 mins in the darkness having waited 2 hours at the Mozambique border checkpoint, driving through the darkness 1 hour until arrival in Maputo. I can see it now, PALERRMO!!! Pallermo!!!!!
GO GHANA!
@Agora acabou a historia do brasil!@ Shouted one dude after Felipe Melo was shown the red for an idiotic stomp on Robben. Brasil were somewhat dominant in the first half, in particular Robinho, ^ the stiff job that Bastos was putting on Robben was outstanding contrary to other suggestions of over fouling. However so much of the counter attack Mentality Dunga had based this Brasil team on, seamed to backfire under the heat. Ramires who was fantastic versus Chile but suspended for the Yellow Card rule, was sorely missed ironic enough. Where as Felipe Melo returning from the hot headed suspension vs. Portugal ^ had been one of the key players thus far turned in an absolute disastrous performance. Coupled with the absolute disappearance of offensive presence from Robinho ^ Luis Fabiano in the 2nd period, recipe for disaster!
@Agora o Dunga vem pelo Mocambique, nao pode voltar no Brasil!@ a man seated at our table commented amongst other one-liners that Dunga will be coming to join Eric and I in Mocambique before ever going back to Brasil! I saw it coming right before the red card, the loosing of the cool, the much emotion ^ anxiety, just like the Portugal game, Felipe Melo had lost his head and needed to be removed asap, Dunga didn]t see it, gameover.
Then to make it worst throwing everything on the line to tie the match last minute, it was a horrible mistake not to bring another striker in place of Gilberto or even Kaka. Only 2 subs, ^ Neilmar for Luis Fabiano, while the only other striker Dunga brought to South Africa in Grafite left on the bench to never even show his worth, that]s just plain stupidity. {Question mark!
I was a Dunga fan myself up until today, and to think Brasilian media wasn-t already having a field day, Dunga will most likely have to move to Portugal or Mcambique before ever stepping foot in Brasil again, what a shocker!
With 20 mins left in the match, a man shouts, @Mas, esa copa e do Maradona!@ As many with that Blind Argentine fate believe in a greater will that it is meant to be for Argentina this time around, I won-t go that far yet. In particularly if Arg manage to get by Germany, Spain poses a huge match-up problem for them ironically.
However the major difference in coaching tactics, is that sometimes you have to be a little crazy to make decisions that are offensive minded. One must believe that when the game is close late, whether a 1/1 or 2/2 scoreline headed into overtime, AND A LOADED Line/up *only# 3 viable subs, one better believe that the last will be reserved for Martin San Palermo to make history! I[m calling it right now, one minute into overtime, he will be inserted and score not one, but 2! to seal his fate as one of the craziest players the game has seen!
Of course I saw all this in dream, dozing off for 5 mins in the darkness having waited 2 hours at the Mozambique border checkpoint, driving through the darkness 1 hour until arrival in Maputo. I can see it now, PALERRMO!!! Pallermo!!!!!
GO GHANA!
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