But enough of that, onto links and classic videos from South Africa 2010.

The final was not particularly memorable but for the dirty Dutch and Iniesta’s wonderful strike in injury time. Here is that strike again…

The only thing sharper and more brilliant than that sweeping Spanish attack was Nick Dunmore’s satire of the latest incarnation of Dutch Football, known simple as “Total Bastard Football.” You must read it. Here.

Brook at DirtyTackle has done an admirable job of aggregating every single amusing celebration-video-gone awry. The first is what happens when you combine Germans’ two loves: fast cars and celebrating their national team’s success on the international stage.

I assure you no Kraftwerks were injured in the filming of that video. Conversely, Spain celebrated their first title in style, with Pepe “Reigning King of Mirth” Reina a bit tipsy on the team’s bus after too much sangria.

Pepe Reina’s antics began several hours earlier, though, where he led a drunken conga line in the airplane that carried the Spaniards home.

Does anybody else find it odd that he is so excited to have won a title? After all, Liverpool finished a respectable semi-finalist in the Europa league and have a new manager. I hope he does not expend all this “title celebratory energy” too early on and not have enough gas in the tank come next May.

The Tournament’s Best Player, Diego Forlan, showed a samuraiesque mastery of the jabulani. While others complained about the shape, size, and flight of the new ball, Forlan spun miracles with his right foot. His first goal of the tournament, against South Africa, defied gravity, aerodynamics, and your lowly expectations of Uruguay.

Forlan was not done there – in the quarterfinals against Ghana, his spinless free kick fooled the keeper, finding the far corner and even fooling one of the cameramen. (Please ignore the commentator)

But, ahem, he similarly was not done. With his charrua compatriots overmatched by the mighty Dutch, Forlan’s fearsome left foot let go from distance, again fooling the keeper and keeping the match close.

I know what you’re thinking – yeah, this guy has a cannon of a shot, but where’s the touch, the timing, the grace, the balance? Is he just lugging a rocket launcher around the field? Nein. Just ask the Germans…

Wow. Shades of Zizou? Yes. Granted, the third place game is not as grand a stage as the Champions League final, and it was on Forlan’s favored right foot, but the bouncing was beyond fantastic. For you Spanglish speakers, the proper term would be “picadita.”

So there you have it – drunken Spaniards and dancing Uruguayans, the World Cup summed up in a handful of Youtube videos as you get ready for the European transfer rumor mill and a boring August. Hasta luego…

I, however, prefer to be a bit more general my blame, so that those accused cannot defend themselves. And the largest group of individuals with the least opportunity to defend themselves is children.

So, yes, I know your immediate reaction. It was mine as well. When Matthew Upson failed to head away a simple long ball, when Jay DeMerit misread a hoofed Hail Mary, before the ball had rippled the back of the net, my mind buzzed…

One simple fact dawned on me – are the English and Americans not doing enough to expose their soccer playing youth to the aerial game? There’s this perpetual myth that our kids don’t play the “continental” way, that if we dress up our six year old boys in leotards and ballet slippers then in ten years time we will dominate the World Cup, crushing the Germans and Brazilians beneath our heels.

First, let’s look at the German’s opening goal – a moment of intricate build-up play and brilliance.

Now, let’s take a brief look at the game winning goal from Ghana.

The delicately weighted passes, the subtle pivots, the heel flicks, is there anything more beautiful and easy on the eye? I thus conclude that there is only one way for England to regain prominent and the US to rise even higher – we must teach our children to hoof the ball 60 yards by instinct, bypass midfield play, and outrun and outmuscle centerbacks.

Because we are not already doing that. And it’s the only explanation, aside from the prospect that the US never had the horses and England’s horses were too old.

Amidst this backdrop, people criticize the selecao for being negative under the Dunga regime. Ironically, this same Brazilian side has produced perhaps my two favorite moments of the tournament: Robinho’s split pass and Maicon’s wonder shot-goal. Let’s enjoy them.

First, Maicon.

I love Maicon’s goal precisely because it has generated such strong debates about “volition” and the nexus between “brilliance” and “intent.” Some people view sport as an escapism, an alternate planet where, upon transportation, the shades of gray of the “real world” melt into a simple and childish black and white. Thus, the Maicon goal is an affront to their understanding and enjoyment of sport. The singular, simple “X hit Y to score in goal Z” equation does not apply. We watch Maicon’s movements before and after the game, but in the moment, in the split second that he strikes the ball, we can’t tell his intent.

This ambiguity provokes the ire of the cynics and the praises of the optimists. Surely nobody could achieve that feat at that speed. Let’s conveniently forget the fact that Roberto Carlos, another famous Brazilian wingback, has done Mr. Maicon one up. Meanwhile, others rush to sing his praises. Maicon used a clever head fake to trick the keeper and shoot shortside! I did the same thing once in a 5 a side game comprised of drunk and out of shape 50 year olds. Therefore, surely a professional athlete could.

But why does any of this matter? Hence the meta-narrative of sport – the individual with fate firmly grasped into his hands. Soccer, to an extent, casts doubt upon this very concept. After all, eleven men must coordinate their actions, so the opportunity for collective blame and abdication of responsibility abounds. Some Americans, with our stop-and-go traffic sporting culture, view soccer as “uncoordinated.” A coach can’t call a timeout? A coach only has three subs? But what if….what if…I have to go to the bathroom and there’s a goal?

So cruelly time marches on as the individual is drowned in the hopeless collective black hole. Then, bing, a moment of individual brilliance. And the debate on intent begins. But here’s the crux of the issue – does Maicon even know his intent? Did he study tape deliberately before the match and decide to head fake a cross and shoot short side based on carefule analysis of videos of the North Korea goalie? Perhaps he was just checking his watch, waiting to do so at exactly the right moment. Perhaps he wanted the floodlights to be behind him in the second half, so as to blind the keeper.

But what if his action was less deliberative, what if it was instinct. What if he had a general intent? What if he wanted merely to put a low box into a dangerous spot of the field in the hopes of either an own goal, a goal, or an assist? Is such general intent deliberate enough? And what if Maicon himself did not know his intent?

Whatever. It was a hell of a goal.

Second, the Robinho banana split pass and Elano’s cherry on top.

There is no underlying philosophical tension in that goal. But watch if again, and hope for more.

I don’t want to come off as too conceited, but I am 90% sure that one of the following three possibilities will occur: (1) Madrid will win, (2) Barcelona will win, or (3) Neither team will win.I GUARANTEE that both teams cannot possibly win. Not a chance. And you heard it here first.

Of course, something odd or bizarre may come up. And the strange happens more than we would like to think  (or fathom).

I have a theory – search engines prove that machines will never ever be able to supplant human beings, only replacing the flesh & bone eventually with cold steel. Leo Messi has boldly left the cocoon behind, never again to caterpillar up or down a leaf. Is he secretly the lovechild of a Maradonna mariposa? How far can his golden wings take him? Only the wind knows….