World Cup 2006: woodwork
The skip arrived this morning - a twelve-yarder, delivered to our drive by a nice bloke who checked that we weren't going to be throwing out any classic-car parts or tools, as that's his thing, and he's seen such items dumped in skips he's delivered and has subsequently had to rescure. I assured him, regretfully, that we wouldn't be. It's just rubbish from the garage. The skip's with us for a week, during which time we aim to fill it with things that we don't want but which can't be donated to the many charity shops of Reigate, or recycled in the case of my old Mojos and Qs (I've checked on eBay and nobody's buying old magazines any more). It's going to be a fabulous clearout, a real pyschological unburdening. If you're interested in a complete set of Qs, minus the first issues and the ones I worked on between 1994 and 1997 (sentimental value), and you want to come and pick them up, let me know. Otherwise, they're going to be turned into turnpike roads. Anyway, we had planned to fill the skip all day, but a surprise invitation - which I'll write about tomorrow - changed our plans, and I spent today doing the extra rewriting on the sitcom that I was going to do tomorrow. Thus, I only caught the midriff of Australia Italy, but was able to sit down, after a lovely steak, to watch Switzerland Ukraine in its entirety. Lucky me.

Australia 0 Italy 1
Another low-scoring match. They're becoming all too common at this stage. And Italy won it in the 90th minute from a nailbiting penalty. Totti did the honours (cue: close-ups of his perspiring brow) and at least obviated the need for that punishing extra half-hour. Materazzi was sent off while I was tuned in, another decision by another ref that seemed harsh. This wil be remembered as the World Cup of yellow cards. The trouble is, as I see it, once a ref has awarded his first, he has to keep up the pressure. He sets his own bar. (I know, Fifa sets the bar, and expects its refs to follow the letter of their law, but it's slowing down the play and reducing numbers all too frequently. There should be consistency. There is not.) I feel for the Socceroos. They've done so well, and they put up a good fight against Italy, only to lose this way, thwarted from potential glory by a decision that's probably still being hotly debated by bar staff and dentists all across London.
Switzerland 0 Ukraine 0
Well, it was over an hour before the Mexican ref showed a yellow card in this one, which was nice, but that's all the match had to recommend it beyond a kind of hypnotic dullness that almost became compulsive. I was actually nodding off before the final whistle, which I put down to the wet weather and the change in air pressure, but it was not helped by the plodding performance of "the two least fancied teams in this round, competing to be the least fancied team at the quarter finals" (not my words, Gary Lineker's). Little to impart. Some woeful shots on goal by both teams, very few pulse-quickening runs, one effort that shook the woodwork of the Ukrainian goal in the first half from Frei and a whole lot of solid defending from both sides that never exploded into life. If these teams were the least fancied at kick-off, they were outcast by polite society like freaks come the endgame. If ever a match was going to end in a shootout, it was this one. "Turgid," as one of the BBC team put it. "Neutral," said another, cleverly referring to Switzerland. "I wish they'd hurry up so we can all go home," quipped a third. It was a good excuse for amateur comedy from pundits if nothing else. And even in penalties, both teams were useless. Shevchenko, the most-fancied player on the least-fancied team, missed the first one for the Ukraine. How often does that happen? The keeper, Shovkoskiy was the man of the match, saving three Swiss penalties in a row, the third of which clinched it. Truly appalling, ambitionless play and yet, let me just check, and, yes, this was for a place in the quarter finals. Of the World Cup. Makes you yearn for England. Alan Hansen picked a good day to go back home.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, we had bloody Mick McCarthy explaining the Bleeding Obvious in his monotonous drone throughout. After Shevchenko's miss, he revealed, having been involved in a penalty situation, that players "want to strangle" anyone who misses, but are rather pleased when one goes in. Now that's what I call insider knowledge. Please God he's not on duty for England on Saturday.