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 63

Belgium 2 – 0 England

To some, this result was all the proof they needed. Sneers smeared across faces, they delighted in telling us that football wasn’t coming home. Laughing at the idea that the nation should have got so excited about a mediocre team getting a relatively easy passage to the semi-finals and then falling once the hurdles got higher.

In doing so, they mistook excitement for hubris and, perhaps more importantly, ‘football’ for ‘the World Cup’. Fair enough – it’s easy to take your eye off the ball when you’re trying that hard to be snide. For those who don’t feel the need to take a pointlessly contrarian stance when faced with anything more enthusiastic than a lethargic sigh, this was the end to a tournament that has brought optimism and hope – even in the losses.

This game didn’t feel like the dead rubber match that it often is, it felt like both teams cared though, clearly, neither would have wished to be there. Belgium were stronger, of course, and England could do with a Hazard of their own to be fair, but there were more sparks of encouragement even as the tournament’s embers lay dying in the grate.

After a lacklustre first half, England came out a different team in the second, like the Croatia match in reverse (but, sadly, without the goals). This was heartening to see, and Dier’s chip could have changed the game had Toby Alderweireld not slid in for a dramatic off-the-line(ish) clearance.

Harry Kane looked knackered, like he was actually wearing golden boots, but Lingard and Rashford ran enough for three. Pickford continued his run of phenomenal saves that will surely see him hold that position for a decade, and Stones and Maguire excelled as they have done all tournament. Trippier was lively and we can only wonder what might have been with Henderson fit – he’s matured into national captain material, marshaling his troops with assurance rather than arrogance.

The stats make for better reading than the scoreline: more possession, more shots on target, fewer fouls, better pass accuracy… but England lacked that killer final pass, that ruthlessness in front of goal.

So yeah, they were beaten by a better team here, but look at the progress from four years ago – from TWO years ago even. This is a vastly different team, with a vastly different outlook – one that’s facing forward at what’s to come, rather than over its shoulder at past glories. They’re not the Golden Generation, but they could enjoy a golden future.

Football has come home, the trophy stays put. For now.

GAME 62

Croatia 2 – 1 England

Dear Mr Southgate,

This is a thank you.

Before this tournament, I’d pretty much given up on internationals. Looking back, I’m not sure why. Some of my favourite memories are of times spent with friends watching England in one game or another – from the tortuous 1990 World Cup semi-final defeat at the hands of Germany on penalties, to the tortuous Euro 96 semi-final defeat at the hands of Germany on penalties. Apologies, I don’t mean to bring up bad memories, but it’s important for context, bear with me. Then, of course, there was the 1998 World Cup second-round exit to Argentina. On penalties. Oh, and the 2006 World Cup (Portugal, penalties) and the quarter-finals of Euro 2012. In fairness, that was different – Italy were the ones to beat us on penalties then.

My interest in the Premier League had started to wane, too. Whether right or wrong, it seemed to me that teams had been bought as rich men’s playthings, while agents and money had replaced loyalty and pride as top-flight football’s main drivers. As a young man, living in London, I was effectively priced out of sharing in the tribalism that had defined my childhood support of an often second-division Chelsea.

When I left London in pursuit of stairs and a spare room, I wanted my kids to feel rooted in the landscape of their new home. I took them to Winch’s Field, the home of Herne Bay FC. It was –and remains – an integral part of our lives. I had started to say, when asked who I supported,  “I’m Chelsea by birth”, like a fucking lapsed Catholic or something. I’d then follow up with, “I don’t really watch the Premier League, I’d rather see a grudge match against Whitstable any day.”

That’s not the case any more. In fairness, I’m not sure it ever was. I think I just found the huge amounts of money flooding the game distasteful in a kind of odd, nebulous way and so stepped away from it. I judged football in a completely different way than I would any other form of entertainment – I held it to a much higher standard.

I’ve now been forced to reassess. I have felt so involved in this tournament, it has taken over. Of course, that’s partly due to my brother’s frankly ludicrous idea that I should write a match report – or at least some words, strung together in an impression of meaningful sentences – for every single game of the tournament, but it’s also down to a young team who played their hearts out for each other. A team who looked like they were having the time of their lives; who played as a unit, with confidence and style. And even when they weren’t getting the rub of the green (Colombia last 20 and first half of extra time, Croatia second half), they were still good to watch, comfortable even, at times. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that watching England. (NB: I don’t count the loss to Belgium and, let’s be honest, neither did you.)

Croatia proved too strong in the end, but your team – our team –  kept on running even when energy levels waned. This team of young, largely untried players, proved to be so much more than the sum of their parts. Back at home, a group of vile, self-interested shitbags sell us off to the highest bidder under the gossamer-thin guise of democracy, blindly negotiating us into an unseen future that their personal fortunes will insulate them from (on the upside, it won’t protect them from hereditary syphilis). Meanwhile, from three and a half thousand miles away, 23 young men managed to do more to unify the country than those wankers ever could. As well as a resounding testament to remote working, it speaks volumes about how much we needed this.

So thank you. Thank you for putting your faith in a young team with bright starts and high heads. Thank you for practicing penalties, for that shootout against Colombia, for expunging the memories of 1990, 1996, 200… oh, look, you get the point.

Thank you for giving that Colombian lad a hug after he missed from the spot. Thank you for speaking thoughfully and eloquently, with grace, intelligence and wit. Thank you for being a stop-gap who now looks a lot like a long-term solution. Thank you for not being Sam Allardyce.

I watched last night's game with my father. It reminded me of afternoons at Stamford Bridge cheering Spackman and Speedie with my dad by my side, my hand in his. My son watched the match with us, first giddy with excitement and then sick with disappointment. He'll get over it, of course. That's the deal isn't it? He was outside earlier, kicking a ball about, practising. It reminded me that I don't really play football with him. I've made a note to change that. 

Thank you, Mr Southgate – and your team – for reigniting my love of the beautiful game.

Best wishes,

Barney Harsent

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 59 & 60

Sweden 0 – 2 England

It’s hard to describe what a national team doing well in a tournament means –especially when it’s unexpected. Forget the tits mobbing Ikea, or the knuckle-draggers who smashed up an ambulance, that’s just a distraction courtesy of the stupid. These people are arseholes doing what arseholes do and using football and booze as enablers. They are, to be clear, quite exceptional arseholes.

For everyone else who choses to get involved however, there’s a thrilling swell of goodwill building after a semi-final place went from being a possibility to a reality and with relative ease. This World Cup has brought a sense of unity to a country that has been riven in two and, although a temporary measure – like trying to fix the ice shelf with Elastoplast – at least it’s something positive. We’ve waited a while for that.

Now my hangover has subsided, I’m left with memories of a game that will, one way or another, end up being wallpapered over by Wednesday’s fixture. I can remember crying in my friend’s kitchen after 1990’s semi final loss to Germany, but couldn’t tell you where I watched us beat Cameroon 3 – 2.

I hope I do hold on to Saturday's memories no matter what happens in the next game, as the day was full of friends, children, good food, laughter and shouting – lots and lots of shouting. It was an afternoon full of confidence too, unusual when you have the occupational hazard of supporting England.

This team, while not perfect and certainly the underdogs when you consider the strength in depth of Belgium and France and the clinical capabilities of Croatia, play in a way that inspires this confidence. Yes, most of the goals have come from set plays, but does that really matter? A goal from a corner is still a goal, someone won that corner. Does it make any difference that Ashley young put the ball on to Harry Maguire’s head from the flag rather than the flank? 

And actually, open play looked OK against one of the tournament’s toughest back lines. Jordan Henderson’s beautiful lobbed pass to a sadly indecisive Sterling should have led to more and Lingard’s cool, casual chip towards Dele Alli saw his target in so much space that it would have almost been harder for him to miss.

Harry Maguire has been a revelation, as has Trippier, who created so many chances for the team. And although Sweden didn’t trouble England for huge swathes of the game, when they did, it took career-defining saves from Jordan Pickford to secure the tickets to Moscow.

They look decent. They look composed. They look like they’re having fun.

This could be about to get interesting.

Russia 2 – 2 Croatia
           (3 – 4 on penalties)

I was on my feet when Fernandes equalized for Russia to make it 2 – 2 and almost guarantee penalties. “This could be it,” I thought. “Russia in the semi-finals!” I then thought about what sort of odds you would have been able to get at the beginning of the tournament, and made a mental note to look into the possibility of building a functioning time machine.

I’d been drinking, to be fair.

But what followed was, we now know, a penalty shootout with at least two of the most unfathomably awful penalties I have ever seen as Russia's nerve seemed to fall apart like a clown car in a quarry. What Fedor Smolov was thinking I do not know, but whatever it was, he telegraphed it to Danijel Subasic, who saved the weak shot with ease. Then hero turned zero, as Fernandes went low and wide to miss the target completely. The result was inevitable from that point on.

That Russia had taken the lead in this game, was extraordinary enough, Cheryshev scoring from outside the box meaning that he leaves the World Cup with an impressive tally of four goals and at least one nailed-on screamer at that. Twice as many as Neymar. Again, the odds must have been astronomical going in, but then it's been a World Cup of surprises. 

Not tonight however. Croatia didn’t take long to respond and, from that point on, it felt as though they had the upper hand, at least until that late Fernandes goal. At that point it seemed reasonable to assume Russia would have some momentum and, crucially, that Croatia would have to be made of fairly stern stuff to hold their nerve.

It seems they are. Heart-breaking stuff – even for the neutral.

Russia, you were ace. I’m sorry to see you go. With penalties like those, I’d much rather England were playing you.

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.

GAMES 53 & 54

Brazil 2 – 0 Mexico

“There’s no point playing for second place.” “You’ve got to be able to beat anyone in a World Cup.” “It sends the wrong message.” “You want to foster a winning mentality.”

All of these things may well be true but, as an England fan, I’m pretty bloody happy that we won’t meet Brazil on any possible route to the final. And for those of you who think that England’s World Cup fixture list is more likely to read: Colombia, Hotel Reception, BA Cabin Crew and then customs, London Heathrow, I say, “Maybe, but you do what you can, no?" As the saying goes, “Fail to prepare, get booted out by Russia on penalties.”

Anyway, the point that I’m getting to (albeit by a VERY circuitous route) is that Brazil look to be getting stronger and stronger as the tournament progresses.

Neymar is still problematic. He is in incredible player, and proved it beyond doubt here – with his goal and assist, but as Miguel Layún retrieved the ball from him ball as he lay by the side of the pitch, the Brazilian’s reaction – like he was vying for a BAFTA in a harrowing play about a WW1 field hospital that had run out of anaesthetic, whisky or, indeed, patience with childish, cheating twats – marked him out as a horrible example of a human. Solipsistic and snide. 

As for the rest, they played with an accomplished sangfroid that oozed class. They are a team growing into the tournament with assurance and confidence. In the interest of balance, it’s worth remembering that Mexico had a very good first half, and although Neymar linked up with Coutinho to apply pressure on the break, the first half ended goalless.

But, without wanting to fall headlong into a cavernous cliché, it was a game of two halves. Mexico waned and the Brazillians waxed, with a wonderful one-two between Neymar and Willian that was, astonishingly, initiated by the former.

It was a move that gave a hint of the teamwork that could see Brazil take this World Cup. Neymar might be a very naughty boy, but his team are very, very good. 

Belgium 3 – 2 Japan

Serious question: Is this the best World Cup you’ve ever seen?

Without wanting to go overboard (Heaven forbid) I really think that it might be the best I’ve watched in all of my 46 years (what’s that? Oh, thank you, too kind… well, I do a bit of pilates now and then, but mainly it’s just down to a regular regime of gin and sandwiches)…

Partly it’s the giant-killing, the small teams delivering unexpected knockout blows. Partly it’s the flurry of late goals. VAR has been an exciting, if not always correctly deployed, addition, and then there are games like this. Where you just can’t take your eyes off the screen.

I’d like to get something out of the way early on… while people are licking their lips at the prospect of Brazil v Belgium, can we all just recognise how incredibly good Japan were? They may have come into this game as clear underdogs, but they fired two great goals past Courtois within the space of four minutes (Takashi Inui’s strike is another contender for “Bloody Hell!” of the tournament).  

Belgium, two goals down, 20 minutes to play. What followed seemed like a blizzard of football, before Vertonghen’s looped header somehow found its way into the net. It was a cruel fluke if you were Japanese, the rub of the green if you were Belgian. The next header was far more purposeful, Fellaini evening out the scores after Hazard’s cross… and then something rather wonderful – though costly – happened. Instead of resting up and playing for penalties, Japan went all-out to win the thing. Of course, leaving themselves light at the back proved costly, Nacer Chadli scoring for Belgium with practically the last kick of the game, but it spoke volumes about the purpose, drive, commitment and spirit of a team who few fancied going into this game.

Well done Belgium, we applaud the comeback.

Japan, we salute you. Yoku yatta!

GAMES 45, 46, 47 & 48

The end of the group stages is something we felt we should celebrate in a special way. With the kind of refinement that a landmark like this deserves.

Welcome, dear reader, to our World Cup haikus!




Senegal 0-1 Columbia




Columbia score
No clean sheets for Senegal
Africa’s last hope

Japan 0-1 Poland




Is this the World Cup?
It doesn’t look like fair play
When one team won’t try

England 0-1 Belgium




A goal for Brussels
England cross, but do not win
A bit like Brexit

Panama 1-2 Tunisia




Playing just for pride
Both wanted their World Cup win
Khazri shone – hats off

GAMES 41, 42, 43 & 44

South Korea 2-0 Germany

"Listen, don't mention the VAR! I mentioned it once, but I think I got away with it."
Basil Fawlty

• This is a Löw – and a Korea Löw at that, one where everything went South. Germany’s loss is also eerily predictable if you look at the past history of the competition. 1998: France win, 2002: France out in the groups. 2006: Italy win, 2010: Italy out in the groups. 2010: Spain win, 2014: Spain out in the groups. 2014 Germany win, 2018: you see? There’s a certain persuasive symmetry to it, you have to agree. 
   
• It’s actually worse than that when we look at the fine print. Germany didn’t just not win, they lost. The game, the group, the whole kit and caboodle – goal difference placing them below Korea because goal difference.  It’s really no more than they deserve, Germany have been woeful at this World Cup. Maradona’s lanyard has been more adaptable, serving at least two functions by the look of it. Meanwhile, most of the German team seemed to struggle to remember why they were in Russia in the first place.  
   
• Now, while historical German forays into Russia provided, if nothing else, a stark reminder as to the importance of wrapping up warm and conserving energy, that’s no excuse for the astonishing lack of commitment and drive they showed, not just in this game, but throughout the tournament. Did you see the Korean team after the game? They’d run themselves to the point where they didn’t know where their feet ended and the blisters began. That’s what proper commitment looks like, and they were already out!
   
• Meanwhile, after Sweden had to endure taunting from the German bench after the late and (now) utterly meaningless win in their earlier tie, this result isn’t so much opening the door to schadenfreude, it’s welcoming it in, sticking dinner on, giving it the keys to your house and then moving back in with your mum.
   
• Fifth point, (because this game UTTERLY deserves it). South Korea were great. They ran, chased, passed, bossed and wanted so much more than their opponents and the decision on their first goal was the best vindication of VAR that we’ve seen all tournament. A crucial – and correct – decision that neither linesman nor referee could have seen clearly, and one where the wrong call could easily have changed the whole group.

VAR! Dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum, What is it good for? Mexicans mainly…

Mexico 0-3 Sweden

• Hindsight means that we all know that this result meant nothing but, going in to this tie, the sight of Mexican fans holding South Korea flags seemed almost an ironic gesture – a knowing wink from people who knew that they needed a win to be sure. As safety nets go, it’s like jumping from a fourth-floor window onto a warm Peshwari naan.
   
• Sweden meanwhile, played like a team possessed. I can’t help but think that Toni Kroos’ goal and the resulting showboating spurred Ikea FC on to produce a performance that was all about grit, determination and some really good football. Let’s not forget that Mexico are a decent side and yet Sweden produced a win that defined ‘emphatic’ in much the same way that Donald Trump defines ‘acquired situational narcissism’.
   
• Although there were occasional hints that a Mexico revival may be on the cards, in truth today was all about Sweden and Mexico’s inability to deal with them. As the game wore on and it became increasingly likely that the result of a match nearly 1,000km away was going to seal Mexico’s fate, the tension was almost to much to bear for the neutral. It’s no surprise that there were tears once the reality sank in – South Korea had played for pride and done so brilliantly – their win was also Mexico’s.
   
• Nothing to do with the game as such, but consider this… If Sweden were to meet Denmark, the graphic at the top left of the screen would read SWE – DEN. As well as this, the unseen letters would read DEN – MARK. Pointless, but possibly a pub quiz question of the future, so I’d commit it to memory if I were you.

Serbia 0-2 Brazil

• Brazil turned it on at just the right time and all of a sudden you could almost hear the other teams in a moment of sudden realization, going, “Oh fuck, yeah, we forgot… those guys!” Not that it was a great performance by any means, but it was certainly enough. There were some moments of lovely skill and beautifully close control (Neymar’s turned up at last and Paulinho was outstanding). However, as well as reminding everyone what they’re capable of, this also showed that they remain eminently beatable.
   
• And, as if to prove a point, Serbia enjoyed a good spell themselves. It may only have been 20 minutes, but their shots on target and ability to upset the Brazillian back line will be something that Tite will want to iron out before the next game – they may be emerging as favourites, but that’s largely to do with Germany going out and France going shit. The truth is, they still look shaky and there are plenty of teams left who can exploit that.
   
• At the other end of the pitch, Neymar didn’t get the goal that he seemed to be desperately looking for, but he did provide the corner for Silva’s header. Silva has said that the move was something they’d worked on in training, and this may go someway to countering worries that Neymar has, at times, looked pretty isolated during this tournament. Of course it could just be that they have a much more balanced team than in 2014 and rely less on one player. As we said though, there’s still a lot of work to do…
   
• … particularly when your goalkeeper looks quite as unsteady as Alisson. Thought by many to be the best in the world, he didn’t even look the best on the pitch during this game.

Switzerland 2-2 Costa Rica

• Everyone’s a winner! OK, so they’re not, that’s only infant school sports days and Ponzi schemes, but with their brace against the Swiss, the last team to score in the World Cup finally broke their duck. Which was nice. They still didn’t win any of their matches though, which is less nice.
   
• Another dramatic, late goal flurry, an absolute mainstay of the group stages at this World Cup, saw Switzerland go ahead for the second time in the 88th minute, before an injury time penalty miss for Costa Rica ended up ricocheting off the crossbar, on to Yann Sommer’s back and then into the goal. Not sure quite how that works, but they all count!
   
• To finish, consider this (via Four Four Two deputy editor James Maw): We now have a World Cup where one of Sweden, Switzerland, Belgium, England, Senegal, Japan or Colombia will be in the World Cup semi-finals. The total number of World Cup semi-finals these teams have played between them in the last 50 years? Three.

GAME 1

Russia 5-0 Saudi Arabia

Before we get to the opening game, I think it’s important we should, for a minute, reflect on the opening ceremony. A minute, coincidentally, is exactly how long I’d wish it had lasted. For a nation with such a rich history, vibrant folklore and sense of anchoring tradition to present the best of itself as being a mediocre Robbie Williams medley is, to say the least, a little disappointing.

Our disappointment however must be nothing compared to that of Williams who, one can only assume, was expecting to be the very centre of a towering testament to the sporting zeitgeist. Instead, it was like watching a sous vide Morrissey opening an overreaching private school fete. If Russia took this approach to their military, they’d be terrorising Syria with little more than a kitchen knife gaffa taped to a Second World War rifle.

Williams is an odd choice, to be fair. He is, after all, the man who sang, in Party Like a Russian, “It takes a certain kind of man with a certain reputation/To alleviate the cash from a whole entire nation.” Given this and Robbie’s strong advocacy of LGTB rights, I think it’s fair to say that he's not an artist whose back catalogue Putin has given the closest of readings. Maybe that’s why Robbie flipped the bird to billions watching – as a defiant but barely discernible display of something important but poorly defined. Of course we can never completely eliminate the possibility that he’s just an insufferably smug twat with more chutzpah than talent. We’ll never know… we’ll never know. Probably easier to just turn the gig down really.

Speaking of more chutzpah than talent, all of a sudden there they were – the two lowest ranking teams in the contest, single filing their way onto our tellies to kick off the world's biggest football competition – the World Cup was happening! After the opening ceremony (as discussed, the equivalent of an MC in a working man’s club telling us that the finger buffet was open) no one could have been expecting much. I was just happy to be drinking lager after six weeks on a no-carb diet.

Without a win in the last seven games, Russia were looking to the crowd to give them an extra boost which, given their fans’ performance at Euro 2016, is a bit like asking a special forces unit to "just stand there and cheerlead". Saudi Arabia, on the other hand, must have fancied their chances to nudge Russia towards a first-round exit. “We’re shit,” they must have been thinking, “but then, so are they.”

In fact, Russia were simply too strong for them. While Saudi Arabia went looking for cracks to play through, Russia simply created them through pace and force. Their opener, at 12 minutes, was really the only one where goalkeeper Al-Mayoof might have done better, but the defence was nowhere as Yuri Gazinskiy headed home Golovin's cross. One shot on target, one goal. Already, it looked like there could be more to come, and indeed there were.

While Saudia Arabia seemed content to knock the ball about in their own half, looking for a chink of light, Russia pounced with a mix of clever tactics and running REALLY fast. Substitutions proved key, with Cheryshev bagging a brace after coming on for the hamstrung Dzagoev, and Artem Dzyuba scoring just 89 seconds after coming off the bench. Add to this a superb injury-time free kick by Alexandr Golovin and all of a sudden it looked like it was time to get the vodka out. And in a way, it was.

BUT, BUT, BUT! Despite the result and the entertaining game, some harsh truths still remain. Yes, it’s good to see the home nation do well, but Saudi Arabia were woeful and could be worth a punt for worst defence to ever grace a World Cup. I’m not exaggerating when I say that my mum would have looked more lively – and she’s got chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Despite this, there were still a couple of occasions where Russia looked troubled.

Egypt and Uruguay are an entirely different prospect, and they’re up next…