Sagittarius in Japan

As Argentina soiled their reputation with the ugly scenes that followed Friday’s match against Germany, the truth was they had only themselves to blame for their predicament. Perhaps that guilt was responsible for the collective red mist that descended over the squad from South America as they thundered en masse to engage in fisticuffs with a German team that had allegedly been taunting them after Esteban Cambiasso’s woeful final penalty.

The game was lost on the flanks, where Argentina had little width. Fabricio Coloccini didn’t offer any dynamism going forward, and on the left Carlos Tevez was ineffectual. Tevez appeared to be suffering a case of Eagerbeaveritis. This was his first start in a meaningful match this tournament, and so happy was he to have been taken off his leash that he scampered up and down the pitch, and round and round with the glee of a dog who has just rediscovered his own tail. Tevez was arguably included to trouble the German right back, Arne Friedrich. All he succeeded in was troubling the legions of onlookers wondering how a man who for a year has been far and away the best player in Brazilian football could look so naïve.

The Crespo/Saviola combination had worked wonders for Argentina. The only time in this world cup, before Friday, that they did not start together, was the final game of the already qualified for the second round, manager Jose Pekerman chose to have a closer look at Tevez and Lionel Messi. Argentina did not find the target in that match.

I do wonder what Pekerman was thinking with his substitutions. It is true that goalkeeper Roberto Abbondanzieri’s withdrawal was forced on him by injury. However, withdrawing flagging playmaker Juan Roman Riquelme for defensive midfielder Cambiasso was a flagrant infraction of the rules of beautiful football. And not just because of the hair. Rather, it was because it smacked of a defeatism not associated with Argentinean football, at least not the electrifying football that has been embraced under Pekerman’s reign. It was the sort of tactic you would expect a certain dour-faced, balding man who until recently was leading one of the British nations to have employed; namely thanking your lucky stars for a lead of any sorts, and then bringing off your most creative players and replacing them with destructive ones.

Riquelme was struggling, but had he come off, surely Pablo Aimar, or the ball-keeping talents of Messi were in order. With the possibility always remaining that Germany would equalise, why deprive your team its primary source of game-winning extemporisation? Ever since the squad was named, Argentina has been the source of much jealousy for its attacking depth. Riquelme having an off day? Say hello to Mr Aimar. Saviola dripping over his buck teeth? Time for Mr Messi to save the day. Crespo looking out of sorts. That’s your cue, Mr Tevez.

In fact, it was not Riquelme’s but surely Crespo’s substitution that has been the source of the most post match analysis. Crespo was not particulary effective, but then again he is a player you never want to withdraw. Much like Ronaldo he can drift innocuously for 85 minutes of a match and then nip into beat the offside trap just when the opposition defence has gone to sleep. He is not a player who ever looks lively, but he is a player who will always keep defences honest. Julio Cruz may be a perfectly good player, but there was no need to serve him the call to duty. Tactically it offered nothing new, and as Crespo was not waning, why get rid of him? Surely Pekerman should have waited to see what would happen.

But perhaps the desire to wait was Pekermans’ problem. He robbed his team of its artistry and trusted his defence would see him through to the final whistle. Had he gone for the throat, this match would have been over as a contest before the half. The much discussed frailties of the German defence were there to be exposed, but Pekerman and his Argentina squad failed to rise to the occasion.