GAME 64

France 4 – 2 Croatia

And so here we are. At the end. All done. Nothing more to see. Move along now. Anyone else feeling a profound sense of loss? Apart from Croatia, obviously, that sort of goes without saying, I'd have thought.

France will think of themselves as worthy winners while Croatia will, no doubt, feel hard done by. The truth, as ever, is to be found somewhere inbetween.

Certainly, Croatia will look back at a soft free kick and a dubious penalty and wonder what might have been. The penalty, in particular, has caused much consternation here at 64 Beautiful Games. I (Barney) have watched the incident five times now, and I genuinely think there was no intent. Simon, on the other hand, is wrong. There can be no such disagreement about Griezmann’s dive however, he was already in freefall by the time contact was made. From that moment on, I was torn. As a neutral with French friends and a passionate dislike of Dejan Lovren, I was keen to see France do well. This, however, skewed things slightly. Griezmann doesn’t quite make it onto my list of World Cup colossal ballbags (Barrios, Neymar, Pepe, Lovren), but a player as good as he is should be better than this.

In many ways, this game was a microcosm of the World Cup in a wider context, which is just as well as it gives me a useful device to talk about both in a concise way that makes me sound cleverer than I am. There were great strikes (how Perisic found the angle to hoof Croatia’s equalizer home I’ll never know) some awful mistakes (if only Mandzukic could have headed home at the other end rather than into his own net) and it was a game about teams rather than individuals. Even Mbappe started slowly, growing as the game progressed.

There were lots of goals and the game certainly seemed to embody the breakneck speed and chaos that has defined this tournament. However, Russia 2018 has been about the unexpected rise of the little guys; about some teams playing above themselves and stopping others hitting the highs they’ve previously reached. There has been, at this World Cup, a leveling of the playing field, and there’s a certain poetry about Russia providing the backdrop to the unfolding of this egalitarian drama.  

Ultimately, and despite the fact that they looked fucking woeful in the group stages, it’s probably right that France were crowned champions. I certainly have no problem with Mbappe’s award for young player of the tournament – that is richly deserved, if only for the Argentina game and THAT back-heel against Belgium. Meanwhile, Modric receiving player of the tournament was, on balance, a good call. Kane gets the Golden Boot and, before anyone starts bleating on about penalties and that one that came off the back of his boot, they were superbly taken penalties, and he’s the second English player ever to do it. Let him enjoy it.

At the end of the game, as the trophies were handed out, there was hardly a dry eye in the house, although that’s mainly because it was pissing down and Putin seemed to have nicked the only umbrella. Russia has come out of this tournament extremely well, it has been well-organised, fans well-received and that speaks volumes about the Russian people, but let us not forget that this one individual, with his face like a perpetually shitting dog, is a weapons-grade bell-end.

But that’s not the note I want to end this on. This is a celebratory ending to a celebratory tournament. It’s been a great World Cup – at times extraordinary even. It’s the first my son will remember and I’ve learnt that the convenient shortcut to conversation with my brother and father that football provided when I was a kid now exists for him. To be fair, he never shuts up anyway, it’s like showing a cabbie another route to a destination he’s already got 500 ways of getting to. 

Sixty four beautiful games, sixty four beautiful images, sixty four variable match reports. It’s been quite the ride. Thank you to all those who hopped on board, I hope you’ve enjoyed reading and looking as much as we have creating. Huge thanks to our designer, Simon Wiltshire, without whom etc… and lastly, of course, none of this would have been possible without my brother, Simon Harsent, whose fucking ludicrous idea this was in the first place.

When we were kids, many years ago in a small, Buckinghamshire market town, he convinced me that after you were brutally brought down by a SIGNIFICANTLY older sibling, the resulting penalty should be taken into your own goal. I know, right? Forty years on, the workrate that this project has demanded has, at times, left me feeling almost exactly like that kid again – constantly kicking a ball into my own goal.

But you know what? I’ve never been so happy to concede.

Love you mate.

Barnaby Harsent, 16th July 2018.   

GAME 61

France 1 – 0 Belgium

“Good game, good game”
Bruce Forsyth

Before we get into the game, it has come to my attention courtesy of reader Dave Marriott that many of our number are watching the games at some ungodly hour, bleary eyed and duvet bound. It is then, for you guys – you heroes – that I bring you a short guide to beer for breakfast – the most important meal of the day.

Coffee stout: a rich caffeine kick to get you out of bed. Not one for the tea drinkers, but pairs well with bacon, sausage and beans.

Bacon porter: With maple syrup, coffee and bacon thrown into the mix, you can even find a porter that’s been aged in bourbon barrels to make those salty top notes really sing. Pairs well with pancakes.

Bagel lager: Doesn’t sound like it should be a thing – is actually a thing though. Bagels, barley and rye malt combining to make a slightly sweet lager with a dark colouring and a hint of cinnamon. Pairs well with another glass of lager.

Hope that was helpful, consider it a public service announcement of sorts.

And so to the game…  

After some very so-so form early in the tournament, France have now found some consistency. That’s a worry for Croatia and England, but they’re still definitely beatable. That’s my line and I’m sticking to it.

So forget Samuel Umtiti beating Marouane Fellaini to Griezmann’s cross to head France’s goal past Courtois. Forget Mbappe’s delightful drag back to Giroud. Forget the discipline and the counter attacking nous. Forget Griezmann, who had possibly his game of the tournament so far, and forget the fact that even Eden Hazard looked knackered by the end.

Belgium threatened occasionally and there were a couple of heart-in-mouth moments late on, but it was going to take more than workrate and running to break France down. With Hazard and De Bruyne fading in the dying embers of the game an equalizer looked unlikely and, one suspects, would simply have postponed the inevitable.

Even the combined will of England and Croatia who surely will have been praying for an energy sapping run of extra time followed by a lackluster series of penalties, couldn’t help Brussels find the muscles.

France will fancy their chances after this, no matter the result tonight.

GAMES 57 & 58

Uruguay 0 – 2 France

“France were many people’s favourites coming in to this tournament but, in truth, their recent form doesn’t really warrant it.”
Me, June 16

Right, I should probably say that, while I’m happy to highlight me being quite, quite wrong on many things, France were shit at the beginning of this tournament and, despite that, I still thought about sticking a few quid on them. I really wish I had now. Two goals in the back of the onion bag (do you see what we've done there? DO YOU SEE?!) and they are looking quite the picture of composure.

It was a game played in stark contrast to the evening’s fixture – this was about discipline, care and possession. It was also about Cavani, or rather his absence, which proved nothing short of devastating for Uruguay. They missed his touch and his workrate, something highlighted by his understudy, Cristhian Stuani, who played like someone trying their hardest to fuck up a job interview. Suarez however, looked lonely, like a child whose best mate is off school sick, wondering the playground alone, with no one to pass to him. A small stirring of pity for Suarez there – will wonders never cease? Effectively, Cavani’s absence took two players out of the game.

Mbappé’s superhuman speed was less evident than it had been against Argentina, but he had his moments. The opening goal, however, as so many others this World Cup was from a set piece. Griezmann was the architect, his cross perfectly weighted for Varane to head home. One attempt on target, one goal.

Lloris was outstanding at the other end – his wonder save to keep France’s clean sheet was as good as Muslera’s mistake was poor, soft hands gifting France another. But France never really looked in danger. Uruguay, known for their aggressive, battling spirit, looked a different team here. They looked beaten on all fronts and, as time was called and tears flowed, it became clear that the stronger team had won.

Brazil 1 – 2 Belgium

“Neymar, Neymar,
Don’t dream it’s over”
Crowded House

“Don’t underestimate Belgium,” everyone in England said before their last group game, “they’re a decent side. It won’t be easy.” They were decent as well. True it was a game that neither team seemed desperate to win (Rashford almost looked like he’d received orders to miss), but Belgium definitely looked good. Quality players throughout the squad, no question. We all agreed on that.

This good though? Nope, didn’t see that coming.

Kazan stadium saw another giant killing, Brazil’s fate replayed and writ large on the biggest outdoor screen in the world. Of course, while the headlines are about Belgium’s performance, about Lukaku, Hazard and De Bruyne, it should also be noted that Brazil looked lively themselves. There were shots just missed and some fine goalkeeping from Courtois needed to prevent the South Americans from scoring on several occasions. Most notably in the dying seconds to deny a pretty subdued Neymar the glory he so desperately craves.

By this time, it seemed that Belgium were ready to drop, having given pretty much everything and done so at an incredible pace and mainly on the break. Hazard, in particular, was on incredible form – running, surging, drawing the Brazillians into rash challenges for set pieces. With him and Lukaku going wide, De Bruyne was free to boss the game. His goal, from Lukaku’s pass was extraordinary, this World Cup has had no shortage of superb strikes, but this may well be the best so far, not least due to Lukaku beating Fernandinho and Paulinho in the build up.

Of course, it wasn’t all one-way traffic, it’s just that Brazil looked lacking in the confidence to deal with Hazard and Lukaku driving towards them at speed. There was a decent shout for a penalty that Brazil were denied, and their goal, from Renato Augusto at 76 minutes, was the result of an absolutely exquisite lofted pass from Coutinho – assist of the tournament anyone?

But it was too late to come back by then, legs were tired and Belgium looked equally likely to consolidate their lead… They had done enough and Kazan had claimed another scalp.