Canada Day Eve 2018

Greetings, gentle readers.
Well, I'm in the middle of an awful stomach flux, so I'm in no mood to mutter either incomprehensibly nor terminally today.  Quick and simple it is, then.

Warum, Jögi?

Almost exactly one year ago, Germany's National Men's Football Team (Die Mannschaft) won the Confederations Cup in Saint Petersburg, Russia.  Timo Werner won the Golden Boot with three goals and two assists, topping Silver Boot winners Leon Goretzka and Lars Stindl, also from Germany, and also with three goals each.
What happened to the team that routed Mexico 4-1 in Sochi on 29 June 2017?
I offer three possible factors.  The impact or net effect of each is up to each individual to determine, but ultimately Joachim Löw is the final arbiter of what actually happened.

1.  The Effenberg Effect

Do you remember when Germany didn't win the World Cup in 1998?  One point of curiosity was the absence of Stefan Effenberg from the roster.  He pissed off manager Berti Vogts in the U.S.A. in the 1994 World Cup and was essentially banished from the team thereafter.  Why?  The guy went on to win the Bundesliga championship in the next three consecutive years, including a domestic treble in '99, a league and league cup double in '00, and a big double by winning the UEFA Champions League in '01.  The man was the UEFA Club Footballer of the year for that monstrous 2001 season.
What might Germany have accomplished with that midfield powerhouse in their lineup in either France 1998 or in Japan/Korea 2002?
Looking at the squads as they lined up, a couple of names leap out.
The first is Leroy Sané.  He was named to the Confederations Cup roster, but was withdrawn due to injury.  He didn't even make the squad for the World Cup.  That's interesting.
The second name is that of Emre Can.  If one watches Germany's undefeated performance in the Confederations Cup, Can should stand out as the defending midfielder who shielded the back four and performed a largely unsung role in beginning transitions from defence to attack.  In a team already stacked with offensive midfielders like Mesut Özil, Toni Kroos, Ilkay Gündoğan, Sami Khedira, Thomas Müller, Julian Brandt, and Julian Draxler, Can performed all of the unfashionable, gritty, and uncelebrated tasks that are sadly needed in a balanced team.  To be fair, Leon Goretzka could be counted on to perform some of those duties, but he never saw the pitch in the 2018 World Cup until the third game.
So what happens when two of your country's more influential midfielders are not even listed on your roster?  Likely, something is not happy between players and management.  Germany, historically a tournament team with resiliency and efficiency based on its locker-room solidarity must have suffered to some degree.

2.  Replacing Retiring Pieces

Whenever a team is going through a personnel rebuilding phase due to the age of some players, there are going to be some growing pains, both literally and figuratively.  Three names stand out in this regard - Miroslav Klose, Bastian Schweinsteiger and Philipp Lahm.  All three players announced their retirement from international football prior to qualifications for the 2018 World Cup - Klose and Lahm bowed out after winning the 2014 World Cup, Schweinsteiger played his last match for Die Mannschaft shortly after the 2016 European Championships.
Who replaced these team ever-presents?  The captaincy fell to the talented and athletic goalkeeper Manuel Neuer, but he spent the better part of a year recovering from injuries.
Schweinsteiger's midfield role was to be filled by Toni Kroos.  His many laudable performances for Réal Madrid theoretically make him a good candidate for a distributing central midfielder.
Lahm's right-back role was to be filled by Joshua Kimmich, the 23-year-old who also took Lahm's place in Bayern Munich's back four.
Klose's centre-forward position was to be covered by Timo Werner, a capable young lad who grabbed the Golden Boot at the 2017 Confederations Cup, auguring well.
The problem here is that the replacements are not like-for like.  Kroos can't defend or tackle back with the tenacity of a Schweinsteiger.  Kimmich doesn't have the positional or tactical awareness of a Lahm.  Werner is literally smaller than Klose and cannot physically perform some of the leaping aerial manouevres that the elder player could.
The bottom line here is that the players changed, but the system didn't.  Löw's failure to compensate may have been a contributory factor to Germany's failure.  His pre-tournament announcement that "...we must reinvent ourselves" seems to have been more shine-ola than substance.

3.  Die Fröliche Wissenschaft

One of the hallmarks of a successful team is the joy, zest, or verve they display when playing together.  Too often, Die Mannschaft looked like they were performing an onerous task or a distasteful chore.  They plugged away with workmanlike dedication, but there was no delight nor sparkle in their play.  In contrast, look at Russia.  When their towering centre-forward Artem Dzyuba scores a goal, he bursts into an enormous grin and practically tosses teammates a foot shorter than himself into the air.  The smaller and nimbler midfielders that work to provide him service, like Denis Cheryshev and Aleksandr Golovin, run to the big guy and hug him tearfully every time the ball hits the back of the net, and they celebrate together whilst raising their arms and gazes to the adoring home crowds.
The German team never shared such boisterous cameraderie.  They all seemed to be weighed down with purpose and responsibility, and tangible frustration when confronted with ill fortune or a particular obstacle.  When facing a Mexican team determined to thwart their ball movement on the ground toward a crossing position on one side of the field, Germany did not try to spread the play, bring more players into the action, distribute the workload, or share the responsibility - they doubled down and kept stubbornly attacking the same point of resistance, as though that challenge was a particular affront that had to be surmounted before they could continue.  It was a hard and unyielding force of will that pushed them onto the field together, and they doggedly but soullessly tried to grind their way through the game.
They didn't have fun playing, and it was no fun for anyone to watch.  Perhaps it is better that they lost and learned that the game is better played with heart and spirit than with precise skill and grim athleticism.

Musical Interlude

And so, having abandoned my quest to map and chart every minute of every game in this World Cup, I turned instead to the task of fixing the paralyzing cramps in my abdomen that threatened to be appendicitis.  Once I was able to stand upright without doubling over in searing agony, I took a shower, and here is what my sound device decided to play for me.

• Owner of a Lonely Heart, by Yes
• And We Danced, by The Hooters
• Are You Gonna Go My Way, by Lenny Kravitz
• Don't Let Me Go, by Melanie Chisholm
• Where Do You Get Love? by Matthew Sweet
• All My Life, by Echo and the Bunnymen
• I Can't Stand the Rain, by The Commitments
• This Sullen Welsh Heart, by Manic Street Preachers (with Lucy Rose)

If there is some sort of coherent theme, it's probably a fairly sad one.

So, only a few weeks left until my next MRI, and then we'll see what we can do about patching up my dodgy spine.  Until then, chins up.  Literally.
My apologies for gamely using a self-conscious repetition device, but it represents a certain amount of exhaustion and weariness on my part when searching for a conclusion.
Until next time, good night England, and the colonies.
—mARKUS