Little Iniesta comes up big for Spain
By Dan Wetzel, Yahoo! Sports Sunday, Jul 11, 2010
Follow Dan Wetzel on Twitter at @DanWetzel
(Luca Bruno/AP)
JOHANNESBURG – For 116 minutes, the Netherlands and Spain had battled and bruised, fought and flopped and produced a game that became more pressure packed by the second. Each side was stopped on a breakaway. Each had headers fly high and clear shots curve wide.
And with the moments growing lonely and the air getting colder, with a penalty kick shootout looming, Spain’s Cesc Fabregas made a brilliant pass to set up Andres Iniesta on the right side of the goal.
Iniesta touched it once and blasted it past Dutch goalkeeper Maarten Stekelenburg and inside the far post. It was a kick for glory and a shot for history that set off a series of celebrations and heartbreaks across not just a jammed Soccer City here but across Western Europe.
In one corner of this stadium, Iniesta, the 26-year-old, son of bartender from the little village of Fuentealbilla, had ripped his shirt off in mid-run to expose a tribute to his friend and Spanish footballer Daniel Jarque, who recently died of a heart attack.
“We wanted to pay tribute to him and we thought this was the best opportunity to do so,” Iniesta said of Jarque.
Soon Iniesta was mobbed by his teammates in a hug for the ages. The Dutch players either sprawled out in exhausted depression or charged the referees demanding an offside call – when in fact Iniesta was fully onside.
Minutes later, after extra time with extra drama, Spain would capture the nation’s first World Cup and cap a dramatic month of soccer in Africa. The Dutch and their army of frantic, orange-clad fans were bridesmaids for a third difficult time.
It was a fitting conclusion if only because not everything at the 2010 World Cup was pretty or perfect. There were controversies and complaints and a dearth of goals (the second-lowest scoring tournament after Italy ’90).
What the event never lacked, though, was competition. And while it took nearly two hours for the scoreboard to move a bit, the fight on the field was fierce.
The game would conclude with 13 yellow cards, eight of them called on the Netherlands, who finished the game with just 10 players.
The Dutch had said for days that they weren’t going to be intimidated by Spain and its precise passing game that had delivered 30 wins in their last 32 international games and made it the favorite with everyone from bookmakers to octopi.
The men in orange proved it immediately by getting physical, knocking the Spaniards off their balance and their timing. They came out and kicked them in the shins and let them know they were there. Then the Netherlands withstood early Spanish pressure, found its timing and launched waves of attacks of its own.
(Martin Meissner/AP)
For a game with just one goal, there was no lack of opportunities.
The Netherlands’ Arjen Robben had one clear breakaway and another semi-breakaway only to be stoned by the acrobatic Iker Casillas. Not to be outdone, Stekelenburg made game-savers on Fabregas and David Villa.
Because this is an event that comes just every four years, the pressure to perform is impossible to quantify in American pro sports standards. It’s not that players don’t feel immense pressure in a Super Bowl or NBA Finals, but here, there is no next year.
Even elite players make just two or three World Cups and to get just one chance at a final can define a career.
Yet with the world watching, with their countrymen everywhere overcome with nerves, with each minute passing adding to the urgency, the play seemed to improve. The Netherlands would lose but leave every bit of its life on the field. The Spaniards would win, but they’d know they needed every bit of their own reserve to get it done.
At the end of this game, at the end of this month, it was just Andres Iniesta and the ball and the opportunity of a lifetime. He’d grown up in a 2,000-person village, his entire family working in the small tavern, Bar Lujan, which his grandfather owned.
Once, when Andres was 12, his father took him on the nearly five-hour drive to Barcelona to see the professional clubs play. The boy was hooked. He dreamed big. He practiced hard.
And in the most desperate minute in the history of his nation’s soccer fortunes, he never hesitated.
Shot. Goal. Spanish flags waving in pride.
One hard-fought World Cup in the books, with the legends from this epic to only grow from here.