A Football Report

Tomhet, Idel Tomhet: Remembering Ivan Turina

We tend to have a habit of talking about a ‘football family;’ a sort of community of fans, journalists, players and coaches who all interact to make our small corner of the world possible. Though we may bicker over rivalries, and obsess over insignificant rumors, we are all nevertheless interconnected. Our successes and moments of joy are shared, just as those moments of pain. This past week, the football family suffered a great loss with the sudden death of AIK goalkeeper, Ivan Turina. Here’s Özgür Kurtoglu, remembering Ivan.

The first time I met him was outside a modest but popular bar called L’Angolo in the posher part of Stockholm. My best friend was DJ-ing that night, probably a mix of mild house and odd techno tunes, and the bar was in the same building, just a few floors down from the Croatian Embassy. Outside the embassy, in a corner of the bar, sat Goran Ljubojević and Ivan Turina, new signings to a team on the brink of implosion and relegation on the heels of a treble-winning season. Six months later, Goran left, tearing up his contract in mutual consent, saying “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you with more goals, but I can help by not taking your money when I leave.” And Ivan, well, Ivan stayed. I haphazardly thanked them both that night for coming to our rescue with an embarrassed laugh. They laughed in return, thanked me for the support, and Ivan went back to drinking his wine (as Croatians do) and smoking his cigar. 

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What happens in your head? “Magic, magic…”

It was one of those rare moments. It was one of those moments when language languishes into nothingness and even the most eloquent descend into senseless drivel. It was a moment when all opinion was void, and instead replaced with pure, universal awe. And Zlatan’s bicycle kick from 30 yards out was not a mistake, nor was it a singular ounce of brilliance. This was not a mediocre player scoring the goal of his life; no, this added a fourth to an already sensational hat-trick against England. Zlatan ripped his shirt off and ran to his applauding teammates, but his post-match reaction? “It was a nice goal.”

We were left speechless. Then Swedish reporter Anna Brolin asked, “What happens in your head?”, and Ibrahimovic replied, “Magic, magic.” There was no rebuttal to be had. An arrogance we would normally detest transformed into something beloved, something unquestionably justified. We sit here struggling for words, but what was your reaction? [GIF by Josh. Words by Eric. Follow AFR]

Through Ryu’s Lens: Germany vs Sweden

The Germans were winning 4-0. They’re the Germans. 4-0 is beyond over. Except it wasn’t. In the second half, Sweden marched back and scored four of their own unanswered goals. Zlatan led the charge, and our man Ryu Voelkel was on hand in Berlin to snap a few photos and watch the Germans collapse in an ineffable manner in front of their home fans.

(You can interact with Ryu on twitter @Toksuede and explore his Flickr)

Football’s about to get really important. The Champions League final looms, and the European Championships are not so far away either. Millions will be euphoric; millions will be heartbroken, and the way one’s emotions swing depends as much on the 22 players out on the field as the man in the middle. If you find yourself with a spare half-hour, make sure to watch the Swedish documentary The Referee – you might think twice before launching another volley of abuse at the television over the coming weeks. [Posted by MG]

“Rättskiparen (The Referee) is short documentary about Martin Hansson, the referee who missed Thierry Henry’s handball. A Swedish television program had already committed to this project before the infamous incident which kept Ireland from going to South Africa. The station’s plan had been to track the country’s top ranked referee in the months leading up to the 2010 World Cup - as fate would have it, the story of course got more complex with that one game. It’s an incredible portrait - part of a wave of films looking at referees. This one has an unusually personal quality to it. “

A life of enforcement unappreciated by the world. The most selfless of professions, but virtuous as well? I’m not so sure. Communication is the key to any sort of leadership, and we all know that if you confront someone personally, then usually the truth will arise. An impersonal approach to refereeing takes away all reasoning for their not to be technology in football. Interaction allows for the truth to arise, and if Henry was asked whether or not he had handled the ball, then we could very well have seen Ireland in South Africa this past summer. Anyway, this documentary is spectacularly intricate and even dark. Definitely worth a watch if you have time on your hands. What do you make of the life of a referee?

(Source: cheekychip)