Amwal Al Ghad English - 2014-06-14 08:57:34
This time it probably was worth saying. A minute after the final whistle went, the stadium announcer at the Arena Fonte Nova followed a new trend from this World Cup and declared: “The final score was Netherlands 5, Spain 1.” Normally it is redundant message but here it seemed meaningful somehow: Yes, five.
Holland had got what the Spanish describe as a manita, a little hand: a goal for each finger. This was the worst defeat a defending champion had ever suffered at the World Cup and it was the first time Spain had conceded five at the tournament since they were last in Brazil, 64 years ago.
At the final whistle Daryl Janmaat fell to the turf and kissed it, lying there in disbelief. This was astonishing, barely believable. Four years ago, Holland had lost the World Cup final to Spain. Now, they had humiliated them. They had scored five; they could have scored more.
The Spanish goalkeeper, Iker Casillas, made two stunning saves in the dying minutes that will not bring redemption for what went before and Robin Van Persie smashed another shot against the bar. By the end, they had taken 13 shots.
Towards the finish, the Dutch were an unstoppable tide; the blue shirts just kept coming forward for more. Olés were their sound track but they were not satisfied to simply pass the ball, to keep it: they wanted to go on plunging the knife in, insatiable, almost sadistic. There was something about the goals, especially the fifth from Arjen Robben, that spoke of an immense superiority. Holland were enjoying this. More»