Quarterfinal
Germany vs. Argentina               Score: Germany 4-2 in a shootout

Amadeus
Augusta Ave.
Beverage: Stella ( the table in front of us had Sangria ...which always looks like fun but it gives me a headache)

Justin and Daniel have found this marvelous Portugese place in Kensington Market  to watch the Cup. They both have regarded watching soccer the last few weeks as a Job. They are serious, committed, focussed. Their mothers should be proud. Now if only it paid.....But they shared their insider info with us, so we got to sit in the heart of Argentine fervour, while on a pretty patio. Bueno! It was great to have Justin at the elbow dishing out little tidbits - like the fact that the Argentine coach was a cab driver 20 years ago. Never was a player, and the German background of Heinze, who plays for Argentina. Things That Make You Go Hmmm -all those Germans who went to South America....
The table right in front of us had some hilarious, scary, large loud women in blue and white. They shook their fists  at the refs and laughed and screamed and swore vigorously. Everything ended with.... "Putan!"
Spirits sank of course when Germany tied it on Klose's goal...and then Extra Time, and then yikes....the shootout. Monsieur LaRose called it - he knew the German keeper was better.
Und zo, the Stade in Berlin was crazy with flag waving, which used to make a lot of folks nervous, but hey, those young people got a right to come out from under.....eventually......eh?

Last of the 16....phew
France vs. Spain                  Final score France 3    Spain 1

Zazou,encore
Biere: Fischer -ooh la la , tres tres delicieuse

Well we really tried to go where the Spaniards were, 'cause they have a special place in our hearts. Jamie called the Spanish Language Centre. They suggested phoning the Spanish Tourist Office. I did that, and they invited us to come and watch with them on their computers, as they didn't have TV. But they also gave us a few restaurants to try. Jamie phoned The Flamenco (on the Danforth near us) and the very friendly owner said, pretty much, "There is no place the Spanish gather. We hate each other.Seriously. Even people from adjacent towns -don't have time for one another. The census says there are 3,000 people from Spain in Toronto and we do not hang out"  We laughed in recognition of something we picked up while there. And yet---the warmest, fun-est people on earth.

So allez allez back to Zazou. Which was fine with Rosie and Clare, because their grandfather either really is French or really hopes to be French. Anyway, their hearts were solidly behind Les Bleus, and fortunately Les Bleus were behind each other - backing each other up, executing, planning, pressing. They were confident. Which team did we see the other day? If it is this one that comes to play Brazil - mon Dieu! watch out!

But while France rules on the pitch, I have to say  that Espagne rules the Handsome Field. They know guapo.
Guapo del dia? del semana? del mes? Torres, Raul, Garcia....Take your pick from any nombre of them.

Well, thankfully, time to catch our breaths.Time to sober up and settle down When we come back,
a whole new ball game.

Day 9,252
Italy vs. Australia         Final score: Azzuri 1   Aussies 0

Hemingway's
Cumberland St.
Beer: Foster's

Hemingway's is a far cry from Betty's in terms of flag waving  intensity. Lots of green and yellow (shirts, balloons) but no singing, chanting, or stomping. What it DID have that I thought quite charming was several groups of women fans - the sheilas - watching every play, and every so often belting out: "C'mon Boys!". And you haven't heard anything until you hear a woman from Down Under yell "Dominate!" in that oh so Aussie accent.
Thanks to Clare and Rosie for continuing to be such enthusiastic sherpas on our World Cup vacation.

Things That Make You Go Hmmmm Department:

Beginning to notice a real cultural split round the World Cup. Both the Dutch and the Australians vocally mocked the Mediterranean (what Stephen Brunt calls "thespian") behaviour. One voice yesterday bellowed, mockingly "he looks as if he's about to cry!" as if that were a sight more amazing than Beckham puking on the field.
Hmmm. What is macho actually?

But the Socceroos played their hearts out and it is a shame that the game had to end with that piece of poor reffing.
Honk if you  live withiin three miles of College and Bathurst!

Portugal 1 Netherlands 0
Back at Betty's on King

We're about to leave to go watch our nine hundred and fifth (seems like) soccer game, but I have to get yesterday's out of my head (or off my chest) in order to keep the world and the cup in order.
Cuzzy did a fine job on the Brits yesterday...meanwhile we were delighted to have the Dubifforders from Rochester on our flanks as we followed the Orange army once again. But it was hardly the same experience, though the bar was fully bedecked, much to the amusement of our guest Yanks. Not the same because as the announcer put it, the Dutch "lacked creative talent mid-field". By the second half, the lack turned into frustration and frustration into impotence, and then of course we all know what impotence leads to....(well, violence if you didn't know)
yeah, yeah, the Portugese were not angels, but they played like the always do..and were cool as could be on defense.
what happened at our table was that four Holland fans and one Portugal fan (Clare always her own person) turned into five Portugal fans. Right there, in the sea of orange, Grolsch at the elbow, at Betty's of all places, disgusted with the Dutch. Disgusted with the Dutch? who knew ?

Here's a special guest blog from the East Coast English fan (Don't neglect to check out his blog site--the address is below)::

Day Whatever
France vs. Togo                                             Final score: France 2     Togo 0

Zazou Lounge
318 King W.
Biere: Kronenbourg

Just to confuse you, we'll talk about yesterday's French match. What the hell - it is after all,  la fete de St. Jean Baptiste today, and last night was Midsummer's Night, so everthing gets to be  topsy turvy.

Topsy turvy. That's one way of describing the French team and the fans. They don't really believe they will do anything but embarrass themselves. The start of the game the large turnout of tricoloures at Zazou Longe was dour and pensive. Then, when they scored,  they went beserk, as if Lazarus has just walked out of the tomb. Tears of joy. Then they sat down to prepare themselves once again for the worst. Another point in their favour. Sheer disbelief and and amazement. They are hilarious. I got high fives and hugs from total strangers - first time on this madcap World Cup journey.

We met Magali (la belle at the bar). She is in Toronto working for a media company that gives her half-Fridays in the summer. She was feeling down, prepared to go to her apartment and watch by herself. (Justin, are you listening?) Then walking down University Ave. she saw the jerseys and asked les enfants de la patrie where they were going. .She was so delighted and excited to discover that the French hung out somewhere in Toronto.
Me too.
Guapo del dia: I think Thierry is a cutie, but cuter than Jamie? mais non.

Casey was still on her Bruceback adventure with her best friend, Suzie (she just can't quit her), so I was happy to go to the Italy/Czech game with my good friend and passionate soccer afficcianado, Rocco. Passionate especially about the Italian team, Rocco is certainly the most informed soccer fan I know--and not just once every four years, either.
He brought the Italian paper to the restaurant so that he could show me the new configuration that the Italian team was using (4-3-1-2 instead of the old 4-3-2-1) because of player injuries and changes for yellow-card holders. And, of course, De Rossi being out because of the elbow he threw.
Italy scored at the 26 minute mark, but that didn't really keep Rocco in his seat every time the ball got near anybody's net. He cheered and groaned with every change of possession, like a real fan should.
After the red card to Polak in the added time of the first half, I relaxed a bit, but Rocco scrunched his face and held his breath until Inzaghi (Rocco's Dad's favorite player) scored the second goal.
Fianl score--Italy 2 Czech Republic 0
Drink of the day--cappucino
Guapa del Dia--I hope that girl comes to her senses and just comes home.

About three years ago, a beautiful and very intelligent aristocraatic Argentine woman named Maxima was vacationing in Spain, and there she met the handsome and dashing prince of Holland. They fell in love at first sight, and now she is the crown princess to Prince William of Holland. She is beloved by her people, both at home and in her new Dutch state. So this game today was deeply imbued with Romance with a capital Ro before the ball was ever kicked.
At least that's the story that the only two brunettes in the room, Thaniella and Mariaellena, told me. They were two lovely Argentine woman who recently moved to Canada, and were the sole cheering section for Argentina. I, natuarally, joined them in cheering for the underdog. We were essentially the only people in the room not wearing orange.
But the Dutch are a gentle people, and no nasty loooks, harsh words, or punches were exchanged in the ninety minutes of deadlocked play. Both teams performed well, if a bit defensively; and now Argentina goes on to meet Mexico in the next round.
Drink--Grolsch (two, in the middle of the day--yikes)
Guapa del dia--she's out of town. Not even a close second.

Day 11
Ukraine vs. Saudi Arabia           Final score: Ukies 4  Saudis 0

Ukrainian National Federation
145 Evans Ave.
Beer: Slavutich

We were enticed over to the west end by a newspaper blurb which said it was a huge hall with six screens..and it proved to be perfect. We just followed the flags off Islington Avenue at noon, as they careened around the corner and into the oops, large but full parking lot at Evans Ave. No fear, we followed the pace car which led the overflow to some side street they knew about,  lined with blue and yellow flags. Inside, lo and behold, a cavernous room that must be used for weddings. The photos show you the chafing dish table of pierogies and sausage, and the bar that only served 2 kinds of beer - both Ukrainian. With each beer you got a ticket for a draw for one of six  teeshirts being given away  at the end. You can see that Jamie was Victorious - though he did long to win the vintage Shevchenko jersey -- still.... what are the chances? pretty great!

The game. The crowd, almost all men except for the pierogie ladies, was tense at first. They had been embarrassed signifcantly by Spain last week. So each goal was a great celebation. And though possession clocks might not have shown it, the Ukraine dominated the entire match. Greatest adulation was reserved for Shevchenko, their oldest and most esteemed star, injured before the WC, thankgodfully returning, and he rewarded them all with the third goal.
After the teeshirt draw, the mc encouraged people to return . "See you  Friday night!". No doubt.
Guapo del dia: I wanted to name the very handsome Dokhi for Saudi Arabia just so I could say "Okey Dokhi!" But then my heart was stolen by Shevchenko's grin.

           

Day 10
France vs. South Korea         Final: France 1   South Korea 1

Somewhere on Bloor near Clinton
Beer: Blue  (everybody, I mean everybody, was drinking Bud. What exactly, is that about?)

Now I have been told that the Brasilians are the craziest -- salsa bands materialize out of nowhere to play when a goal is scored. And perhaps I will experience that shortly, but as of Day Ten, hands down, the Koreans are the absolute nuttiest. On the scream-o-meter? an Eleven, no question. After France scored first, I was confused because there was so much noise. I thought maybe I had wandered into a Vietnames/French bar. But no, it was the deafening sound of Koreans groaning - high pitched agonizing that bordered on euphoria. Same thing with a goal NOT scored for their side. Mad cheering and clapping for the effort of their countrymen. And singing. Lots of singing. Chants and patriotic songs - not always the same one, but three, or four  choices. My favorite sounded a lot like "O, Peace and Gloriiia!" (I'm sure Gloria is Korea). Later a fan told me that the words to that one translate roughly as " We must win Korea!". He was the one who also told me that the name of the restaurant - which is only in Korean on the outside (good luck finding it) translates as Bistro Seven. I love that.
Here's a tip: if you choose to see a match next time Korea plays, arrive at Bloor and Christie WAY ahead of time. The fans come early. I tried a few places before I squeezed in at Bistro Seven which was full of young people crammed into traditional wooden booths that looked like they were hammered together let's say, oh, ten days ago. Nothing on the walls. Screw holes where other stuff used to be. Mercifully air conditioned. The waiter, (the cutie in the picture with the beer bottle) ran out repeatedly with trays of Bud and dishes of popcorn and slices of watermelon. (?) On the TV,
it was a Korean station at commercial time, but the play by play was in German -  a new touch. Instead of talking heads at half time, there was quite a long highlight reel from recent and long ago games. That was a treat. 85% of the fans went out for a smoke.
And then, after the glorious goal and the hanging on, then they poured out into the street, for the dancing and the honking and the celebrating. For a tie.
Overheard on my way to the subway (by a non-Korean): "You can always count on the French to blow it". Ouch.
Bring on the Brasilian fans!
Guapo del dia: the waiter, natch.

Day 9
Italy vs. U.S.A. Final score: Italy 1 U.S.A. 1

Rock Residence
5 Playter Cres.

Well I meant to watch the game at Corso Italia...but what the? is with this weather? Freakishly stifling, so I decided to watch where Americans hang out (no, not where Justin suggested "at the McDonalds in the Eaton Centre") - the Americans I know hang out close by - in the cool dark of my basement in front of the Big Screen!

Good thing too, because before I knew - what the? - I was doing something I haven't done in like, thirty years...I was rooting for the Yanks! I mean, like full out screaming and shouting "Get In!!" everytime a ball came near the Italian net. Something primal and completely World Cup-ish took over. What the?
And what the? was with that Uruguayan ref? At least he seemed to hate both countries equally.
But really, even the most ardent America hater would have to admit that that short handed team played with a lotta guts against big odds. Not to mention the crucial stops by the aging but marvelously named goal keeper Kasey Keller. I was all ready to agree with the announcer who referred to them as Nine Resolute Men, but then he had to go and wreck it by mentioning that George Bush would likely be calling them later...and s-s-s-, the air went out of my Happy Balloon.
I tried to take photos of me, the flag, and my basement, but my poor camera skills may come to the light when Jamie gets home.
Jamie and Joe also intended to watch this match from a sports bar in Cleveland, so hopefully we can look forward to a report from the field.
Guapo del dia: Landon Donovan - receding hair line and all. No problem.

Day 8
Netherlands vs. Ivory Coast                  Final Score: Netherlands 2    Cote d'Ivoire 1
Betty's
240 King St. E.
Beer: Heineken and Grolsch

Well they weren't kidding about the Dutch fans dressing up in all things orange. I have several photos which will delight and amaze.....but unfortunately I don't have Jamie to download them. ( I know. I know. But it is enough that I have learned to publish the blog.) He will post them upon his reurn from Cleveland.
I was smart enough to bike down, a) because parking there mid-day is a nightmare. b) still working on the beer belly. c) that's what the Dutch do! Seriously, the only thing more prevalent than orange shirts was bike helmets! I used mine to save space in a booth for Jackson, Marijke, her mom Gillian, and Justin. They all came in after watching Marijke graduate (yay!) and even Ms.Marijke Anbeek was a little stunned at her countrymen and their, uh, er...enthusiasm!
Justin and Jackson showed their provocative natures by chanting "allez Elephantes allez!" in the midst of the sea of orange. (Elephantes the team name of Cote d'Ivoire) They received many shocked looks....but of course nothing more.
Food was tasty, beer was cold, service good natured. One lovely Spanish bus boy who ran his ass off was headed immediately uptown to La Mexicana to work his second job, and second Cup game of the day. He acted like he had the best life in the world.
The game: Holland's goals were pretty and sharp and back to back almost. It looked like they might run over Ivory Coast.  But then Kone responded with a brilliant one, which settled Betty's down considerably. The second half was tense and defensive, with the dikemen managing to hold on for the victory.

Guapo del dia: should be the bus boy but I didn't get his picture. Probably then it should go to Ruud Van Nestlerooy. Ruud is a stuud

Sweden vs. Paraguay               Final score Sweden 1   Paraguay 0

Irish Embassy
49 Yonge Street
Beer: one Embassy Red, one Soda Water

okay, we were kinda pathetic today. We watched half a match between a Scandinavian and a South American team in an faux Irish pub in the financial district....
But, we kept the faith! Jamie had bizness downtown and I had the good fortune to catch the afternoon Blue Jays game at the Dome, but we rendezvued in order to keep our attendance record unblemished.

The game: This is the pathetic part. We had to leave at the 70 minute mark - before Sweden scored. The atmosphere did nothing to bring us into the game at all so we watched a lot of very blond heads in very blond shirts look really frustrated. I bet the game was way better at Ikea.

The weekend reportage will be a challenge. Jamie is in Cleveland - separate vacations are so modern, but we will look forward to his exciting coverage of the Saturday U.S. vs.Italy from the heart of the rust belt. SO I will be on my own to provide the snapshots of Toronto World Cup 2006. Feel free to join me, anyone. I'll buy ya a beer.

That's the unfortunate choice of words, (doncha think?), used by the TV commentator to describe how Poland endured the last few minutes of their game with Germany today. Alas, for the fans we were with at Gabby's on Roncesvalles, Poland was once more overrun by the Germans.  FInal score: Germany 1   Poland 0
We tried to go to Chopin's next door, but it was full so we joined the younsters at Gabby's. We tried bottles of Tyskie, while they ordered pitchers of something and ate wings and french fries. They also broke into rounds of "Polska! Polska!" slam-slam-slam (whacking the table three times after each chant)
The game:
Seeing as we went 92 minutes without a goal, I wondered if Poland was just about to bore Germany to death. It was a good strategy and it almost worked. They certainly lasted longer than anyone figured they would. We continue to enjoy the coverage. The lack of hoopla: no Dance Pak, (no women at all ANYWHERE come to think of it) -  no Grapes or Charles Barkley, no half-time grandstanding by aging rock stars, no melodramatic profiles of the orphaned, learning disabled, rehabiltated, rags-to-riches athletes.  Maybe that is all covered post match shows, in League championships or regular club play - but here, day by day, it seems to be just about the game . A-h-h- refreshing really.
Guapo del dia: Jamie Paul Rock

Day Five     France vs. Switzerland            Final Score: Zip-Zip
Esplanade Biermarkt
68 The Esplanade
Beer:  Steigl, Leffe

New York run by the Swiss is how they say Peter Ustinov described Toronto....and our World Cup experience today seems to fit that model. A very decorative, restrained, small polite crowd watched a match that also seemed neat and orderly - defensive, protective, few flashes of brilliance.
Nice place though...and certainly About Beer, as the photos indicate. I tried hard to find a Swiss beer - no luck, so I chose Austrian, thinking well, at least it's Alpine. Jamie had the Belgian (they should've been in the WC, except, of course, they're BELGIAN.)
In our first forays out into World Cup World, we have realized we are having one of two experiences, either the culinary or the cultural. Today's was more culinary. Not only was the beer great, but we had a charcutierie plate - great cured meats, pate, cheese, pickles---yum. Also fab french fries with two kinds of mayo---how Belgian! how happy was Jamie?
The game:
If the French were confident, that passed me by. Toward the end there seemed to be some nasty exchanges between Zidane and his mates. The ref was a real buttinsky too. I found myself rooting for Switzerland, their keeper was amazing  and/or it  could very well have been due to the winger, the
Guapo del dia: Philipp Degan, yodel-lay hee-hoo number 23!
We are recording our spending on this month long pseudo European vacation. We are also recording weight gain. It remains to be seen whether either of those figures will be shared with you.
A bientot!

Well, Casey had to work today, and I had a few meetings downtown.....
so--between meetings I dropped into C'est What-- a very popular (I was told) sight for watching the World Cup games. I was the ONLY customer there. The waitress was drinking a beer at the bar when I came in, and the chef was eating a burger.
NO ONE ELSE!!
And they had cheesy bar music, which they refused to turn off, so I could hear the game-
but I think they were just mad that I was only drinking soda water.
Anyway--Italy vs. Ghana.
Not a spectacularly well played game, from what I could tell over the Carly Simon tapes.
But, at about 73 minutes, Vincenza Iaquinta took a hit and fell to the ground screaming and crying like a.... well you know what. They carried him off on a stretcher and (no kidding) 20 seconds later he was running back onto the field.
What is with the drama queens who play soccer? Explain that to me.
Italy won 2-0.
And--in other news--the USA was dominated by the Czechs.
Don't make them mad, Group E.

Day Three
Mexico vs. Iran Final score: Mexico 3 Iran 1

Dos Amigos
1201 Bathhurst St.
Beer: Dos Equis

The Spanish tv play by play guy, whose name I must learn, starts every match by shouting "Ahora!" (Now!) We had planned to bike to La Mexicana on Yonge Street for a late breakfast, but Jamie had the smart idea of calling first. Waitress said they were already full, a hour before game time! So a quick change of plans and a hop in the car to the very cute Dos Amigos at Bathhurst and Dupont. Of course now we think we were Brilliant. A great, friendly, smiley crowd. No standing for the anthemn (what is that horizontal arm across the chest thing the Mexicans do?) but all the servers were in jerseys and passed out flags to the crowd. Lots of little kids and grandmas after church. The place was also intimate enough to actually get served -good Hueveos con chorizo and Enchilada de huevos (plus dos cafe con leche y ChocoFlan por postres...but I had only one beer! though of course no cycling - yikes)
The game:
Again, en espanol on the telly, but from what we observed and understood, even though Mexico seemed flustered at the outset, they got their game together eventually and dominated after the break. Bravo to Bravo for those two goals
Guapo guide: Top score to Marquez
Our coverage may slow down over the next two days due to annoying work and life interference, but we'll do our best to keep up.
Hasta luego

Day Two.
Argentina vs. Ivory Coast         Final score: Argentina 2 Ivory Coast 1
Plaza Flamingo 423 College St.
5.00 cover included two drinks tickets (Canadian or Bud only - phooey - but we drank it)
This was where we were advised to watch Mexico (tomorrow) by the owners of our favourite Mexican joint - El Sol  -  but we decided to catch Argentina there, and it proved to be a spot where Espanol will reign, no matter the country, so it is a find. There is a cavernous "Salsa Bar" upstairs where they have a one giant rear projected screen, and one smaller one. There is a raised dais around the room with small tables, a la Saturday Night Fever.  They also lined up single plastic chairs movie theatre style in the dance floor area. It was pitch black in there, and I'm sure there used to be disco balls, maybe there still are. All the white shirts of the Argentines glowed int he dark, as did our hand stamp. It could have been winter and the middle of the night for all you knew of the outside.

But inside it was, Hot, Hot, Hot!
Everyone stood for the national anthemn,chanted "vamos Argentina!",  went crazy over the goals of course, flags waving, blowing whistles and stomping. I wouldn't say the place was jammed - but as the rounds progress, I'm sure it will get nuttier.
The game:
Ivory Coast played hard, but the Argentine defense was spectacular. We were kinda happy when Drogba for IC got a goal, cause he is so amazing looking. (Ladies and gay friends of mine--you must tune in to soccer: my oh my oh my.there are some gorgeous faces and bodies out there)
There are some finer points of play that I'm sure we missed, but as the coverage was in Spanish, we couldn't figure some of the calls. On the other hand, it was fun to be watching in Spanish because it made us remember Spain - Jamie trying to find the NBA playoffs between World Cup matches and all he could find was some lacrosse/basketball hybrid he ended up naming "Goofyball".

Oh yeah. And we rode the bikes today. Woulda been perfect (cause it's pretty much a straightaway to College St) but there was a heavy duty north wind - so the thighs are currently trembling. And not just because of  Hernan Crespo. But good for the beer bellies.

Casey here......

We're on vacation! In Toronto!. Last week we were remembering (nostalgically) that we were in Spain and France in 2002, and in London in 1998. We were introduced to the madness that is the World Cup. We thought- where could we go -quickly - to watch some soccer? Portugal maybe? Then financial and time constraints forced us back to earth. It was time to think Global and act Local - or Loco as the case may be.So we hatched our Travel the World in Toronto plan. Where else can you see so many differing jerseys and car flags in one month in one city?

A couple of necessary preparations: Mohammed "Mo", Jamie's haircutter,
gave him the World Cup do. Cropped on top and pretty short all the way around.
I like to ruffle the front whenever I get the chance.
Jackson's friend Justin has emailed us with his pub research so far. That boy is all over it and is even phoning embassies to find out where, for instance the folks from Togo will be watching.

The accompanying photos will record our progress around town. The shot of our hand stamps was from last night - our pre Cup foray to prove we can stay up late. We went to the Horshoe to see Jets Overhead. They were fabulous and rocked the Rocks. Jackson made me drink Labatt 50 which I won't be doing again. It's as bad as I remember. I think we had better bicycle to matches or our bellies will be as round as the Cup when this is over...
So
Day One. Germany vs. Costa Rica.
The Bottom Line 22 Front St. W.
Beer: pints of Creemore. Coulda gone Beck's but it wasn't on tap and I don't like it that much anyway.
Food: We enjoyed the schnitzel, but too bad there wasn't any Sachertorte (get it? Soccertorte?)
Not exactly a place with either German or Costa Rican atmosphere (very Bay Street actually) but it had two things going for it. The chef decided to serve the food of the countries for that day - and it was conveniently located to the shopping we had to do after. Big dinner tonight with Jets and Lucas and Susan Bryant.

Germany certainly kicked butt in this game, controlling the play for most of the match. But Costa Rica made them sweat a little when the score was 3-2. It was fun to watch the lovely Wanchope, CR's number 9 - legs like a gazelle. Okay, I'll try to keep my prose less purple in the future.
Only a few of the boys in suits at the Bottom Line were into it - but we enjoyed watching the kitchen staff running out whenever they had a chance to look at the score. That's what it's really about. That - and the kids kicking balls all over the neighbourhood on their way to school when I was out for a run.
Day One. Big Fun. It's good to get away...