The international break isn’t something most people would describe as “popular” or even “mildly interesting,” or even “hmm … yeah, okay, I guess I’ll watch Canada play Honduras, otherwise this beIN Sport subscription really will start to feel like a waste of money.” But the international break is what we’ve had to put up with for the past week, so we may as well talk about it anyway.
Here is the problem with the international break: no one wins. Well, almost no one. It is impossible for any country with a population bigger than, let’s say, Portugal’s to win. The bigger the country, the more impossible it becomes. Northern Ireland sneak a 0-0 draw with the Czech Republic: heroic, defensive performance. England sneak a 1-0 win against Slovakia: it’s a monumental, fire-breathing disaster. The problem isn’t the manager, it’s the players, but also the problem isn’t the players, it’s the manger. But even more than that, the problem is the entire system, right down to the grass roots. And in a more nebulous sense, the problem isn’t even that. It’s money.
There are almost literally no good outcomes for a Portugal-plus size nation playing a non-tournament international. Even emphatic wins are met with that old, deflating refrain: “yes, but it was only <insert Portugal-minus size nation here>.”
Yes, World Cup qualifying needs to happen at some point and yes, international managers probably appreciate the opportunity to work with their teams. But there’s something immensely futile about any manager’s attempt to implement the tactics that are going to win him a tournament a whole two years in advance of any actual tournament.
Besides, it has been proven time and time again that (a) a smooth qualifying campaign is not a requirement for major tournament success (see: Portugal this summer, or France in 2006, or Italy any time there is a match-fixing scandal) and (b) any real, lasting cultural-tactical changes can only be implemented from the ground up (see: Germany, Spain, Iceland; don’t see: England, Argentina, Brazil). Beyond that, it’s mostly about staying fit, building a sense of confidence and momentum in a tournament year, peaking at the right time and luck.
All of which is to say, in the grand scheme of things, an away game in, say, St. Vincent in a pre-World Cup qualifying qualifier is about as close to meaningless as a competitive, FIFA-sanctioned soccer game can possibly get. So, given that I learned absolutely nothing of substance this international break, here is what I didn’t learn, ranked from least to most nonsensical:
6. Joshua King is from Norway
Joshua King, who plays for Bournemouth, and whose name is Joshua King, is from Norway. That Norway. And he didn’t claim citizenship on account of a long lost grandmother or something. He is just actually from Norway. I guess that explains why no one has been angrily demanding the England call up his above average production for a below average Premier League team merits.
Nonsense rating: 1+1=2
5. The future is bright, the future is steel
National anthems have been the subject of much controversy lately, but there can be no doubt about the instrument on which they should be played from now on: the steel pan. The steel pan orchestra that performed the anthems before the USMNT match against St. Vincent and the Grenadines provided the only reasonable argument for watching non-tournament internationals I heard all weekend: because every once in a while a steel pan orchestra performs the national anthem of St. Vincent and the Grenadines and fills your heart with a happy, gleaming calm. And everything is okay in the world.
Nonsense rating: The car is red
