It’s Over.

So much for the Dutch nice guys. Oh I’ve just cleaned my glasses and noticed my cognitive requirement for visual postproduction reduce dramatically. Wow I never realise that before, I just thought I couldn’t see. Anyway back to the climax that is inevitably an anticlimax. The Dutch must have watched the flamenco dancers passing game and decided their Nederland’s game of truth and beauty was not going to be a winning tactic. The haughty bullfighters would require a few broken ribs and legs for the playing field to be tilted in their favour, a task given to Van Bommel and De Jong. Van Bommel epitomises the changes in the State of Denmark. When truth and beauty are spurned by the world the eyes go black and lifeless. Even the noble Arjen Robben knows the world is unfairly against him. To ‘The Oranje’ Spain epitomised this unfair world that would treat them thusly. To Spain the Dutch were the players of the beautiful game and played them, as far as they could between having to periodically limp off the field, with equal beauty. The result, as well as being Thugs nil: Flamenco Dancers one, was that each team acted as they perceived the other team would act. It is an often-overlooked phenomena that when one ‘reacts’ one acts in accordance with what one is re-acting to; one changes one’s coat for the coat one perceives the other is wearing. It may be lucky for Van Bommel that he stayed on the field for 120 minutes but it’s lucky for football that Spain won. But if truth and beauty are not enough and thuggery loses, what then? Steely honour. For the world is always hungry.