Beauty Trumps the Beast

If you were one of the record 24.3 million Americans who watched the 2010 World Cup Final, you saw what can only be described as an ugly game.

In fact, if you tuned in to any of the 64 World Cup games played this past month, you probably ended up watching an ugly game. Maybe it was a bruising 0-0 tie in the group stage, like the one between Ivory Coast and Portugal (that I woke up to watch at 6:30 in the morning with a high fever). Or maybe it was the 0-0 stinker between Paraguay and Japan in the Round of 16 (which, as a result of penalty kicks, finally conjured some drama in extra time). More likely it was the World Cup Final, a game that featured 116 minutes of grueling, violent, goal-less soccer.

It was a game that was very much representative of the entire World Cup, and of the current mood in international soccer. Goals were at an all-time low, defense at a premium. Teams like Portugal, Uruguay, and even the heralded Brazilians were happy to sit back and play "cynical soccer", willing to defend constantly and look for scant opportunities to get on the offensive via counter-attack. It's like an American football team putting all 22 of its starting players on the defensive end, looking for a pick-six to put points on the board. This strategy doesn't make for a very compelling game of football, regardless of which version you're talking about.

There were dissidents to this strategy; counter-culture rebels looking to light up the scoreboard at a ridiculous pace. The Argentines took after their manager Diego Maradona, taking after both his knack for flair and his penchant to crash and burn in the most dramatic of fashions. The Germans, after their 4-0 dismantling of Maradona's Men, looked fit to carry the torch after back-to-back four-goal performances. But even they ultimately resorted to playing defensive soccer when faced with a superior Spanish side, ultimately bowing out of the tournament without unleashing their full offensive potential.

So there they stood, the Spanish, the last purveyors of the beautiful way of playing the beautiful game. Their brand of soccer, one-touch, pass-and-move, possession-style, kept other teams anxious and reeling on the defensive end. Teams abandoned their native styles to play them defensively, and yet they continued to pound away at the offensive end. Xavi, Iniesta, Xabi Alonso, Sergio Ramos, and David Villa mesmerized their foes with subliminal passing and telepathic vision. As they advanced through the tourney, their style and creativity earned them the overwhelming support of all those looking for some real soccer, and not a game of rugby with a spherical ball.

When the Dutch decided to play a bit of rugby during the World Cup Final, with flying leg kicks added for some kung-fu flair, fans around the world drifted towards supporting the Spanish. With every Dutch yellow card and every scoreless minute, we became worried that this, the final stand between good and evil, beautiful soccer and cynical soccer, would ultimately be the demise of the saviors. But in the 116th minute of extra time, with one powerful blast from the boot of Andres Iniesta, the soccer world was wrenched free from the clutches of the defensive game. Spain won the final and announced the return of elegant, flowing soccer in the biggest of ways. The Beauty had slayed the Beast.