New York played host to a World Cup final that will be remembered not for its flowing football, but for its sheer bloody resilience. Spain, after 120...
New York played host to a World Cup final that will be remembered not for its flowing football, but for its sheer bloody resilience. Spain, after 120 minutes of gruelling contest, finally broke Argentine hearts with a solitary goal that separated the two finest international sides on the planet. For those of us who braved the 5am kick off in the UK, the coffee was bitter but the reward was sweet. Luis de la Fuente's side have done it again, adding the greatest prize of all to their European Championship crown. They are the undisputed kings of world football, and Argentina, for all their snarling defiance, were left to wonder what might have been.The match itself was a tactical arm wrestle of the highest order. Argentina, as expected, choked the life out of the central areas, inviting Spain to try their luck from distance while guarding the final third like misers with a secret fortune. Scaloni's men had clearly done their homework, nullifying Spain's intricate passing combinations by sitting in a disciplined low block that refused to be drawn out of shape. For long periods, it looked as though the Spanish possession machine was going to run into a brick wall. It was tense, it was scrappy, and it was absolutely magnificent in its own brutal way. You could feel the weight of the occasion pressing down on every pass, every tackle, every decision.Then came the extra time, and with it, a moment of genuine quality that the game was crying out for. A swift break, a clever interchange on the edge of the box, and a clinical finish that left the Argentine keeper with no chance. It was pure expediency dressed up as artistry. Spain had not been at their fluent best, but they had shown the tactical flexibility and mental fortitude that separates champions from nearly men. They dug deep, found a way, and for that they are worthy winners. The talk now will be of dynasties, of continued dominance, but for now, the Spanish players can savour the feeling of being the very best on the planet.The broadcast spectacle itself, as covered by GoalZaza's team on the ground, was a story of two halves. While the studio in New York offered a certain glamour, one has to wonder whether the decision to keep the pundits away from the stadium itself was a tactical error. You lose the noise, the atmosphere, the palpable sense of occasion that only a live stadium feed can provide. It felt, at times, like watching a beautiful game through a window smudged with fingerprints. Still, the football did the talking in the end, and what it said was that Spain are the true elite. The trophy is theirs, and the debate for the ages can now begin.
