Day 20; Di Smal Di Maria and How about Howard... sorry.

Apologetically backtracking somewhat, through reasons I'm personally putting down to the direct correlation of lack of work rate to sunny weather, not laziness, day 20 wrapped up the second round fixtures, and it's summary by myself may have somewhat of a 'skim-through' feel to it, as I try to make up for lost time, whilst still making the last month of my blog look pretty come the day of the final, with every single day previous being summed up wittily and sarcastically, as well as factually by it's exhausted curator.

Now I won't just say 'Belgium and Argentina went through, Tim Howard made loads of saves and Di Maria scored,' but that is pretty much what happened. Perhaps more interesting than much of the football on show during game time, was the almost hilariously negative BBC analysis of the Argentina versus Switzerland game. Alan Hansen, making his punditry swan song in this tournament with one final flurry of criticising defences whilst overly leisurely sitting back in his chair, was along side younger, significantly balder models, Alan Shearer and Danny Murphy as the trio ridiculed just about everything going on in the fixture, as if they had a bet on who could be the harshest, with occasional help from usual good guy, Gary Lineker. 

Mentionable moments included their tri-agreement that Gonzalo Higuain's powerful goal-ward header, which forced a brilliant save by Benaglio in the Swiss goal, was not in fact almost a moment of quality from either player, where the game was almost won or lost, but instead 'a header straight at the keeper,' brushed over as if it was barely a highlight.

But most bemoaning was saved for Angel Di Maria, the large facial featured playmaker of Argentina, who often thrives off the space given to him by his opponents' obsession with man marking and doubling up on Messi. In fairness, the Real Madrid man was woeful to an extent. A high extent. He gave the ball away over fifty times in the 120 minutes played, turning over possession at a 'Joe Cole at Liverpool-like level.' Most of these turnovers in fairness were the result of risky passes, mainly crosses, but for a player often used on the wing, this didn't provide an excuse for such statistics, especially when he had plenty of time and options to pick out in the first half, when wide of the box to the right. Instead of crossing with his weaker right foot, or even stopping to cut back onto his favoured left, Di Maria connected with the ball in a way which FIFA Street players will know as a 'Rabona,' or more simply 'like a flashy twat.' With potential goalscorers in the box, awaiting a good cross which could make them a national hero should they convert it, the ball span off his feet, and flew high over the bar, looking like more of a weak attempt on goal than the abysmal cross which it actually was, cueing outrage in the BBC studio.

Once finished ripping into ninety minutes worth of Di-smal Di Maria (Probable Sun headline should Argentina have lost), the punditry team watched extra time unfold along with us and those millions around the world we keep hearing about. Just when every single one of us thought it was heading for pens, the South Americans finally broke through, after 118 minutes of prior knocking and nothing more, guess who scored? You already know, not only did I tell you earlier but you all defintely have a TV, Twitter, access to a back page, or even Teletext - it was Di Maria. An even later timed missed-Swiss chance meant his goal was the winner, causing Shearer to chuckle that 'no one will remember how badly he played, all that matters is the goal.' Well it's at least a couple days later, Alan, and I remember.

Later, Tim Howard made loads of saves. Playing with the passion of George Washington within him, the Everton goalie who tweeted like many other Americans that he believes that they will win (see pic), denied that pesky dark horse, Belgium, time and time again. Sixteen times in fact, a World Cup record which in its creation must've had the Belgians thinking that it's going to be one of 'those' days.

But like the game which had preceded it, deadlocks were unpicked in extra time. A young, former Chelsea Belgian broke through Howard's wall of might initially (Kevin de Bruyne), before a young, current Chelsea Belgian added the second (Romelu Lukaku). 

When USA pulled one back late on, but not too late on, the game erupted, as our trans-Atlantic soccer playing pals showed all the grit, pride and determination to play for their country, that St. George would expect from England. Many called the period of extra time the greatest ever, as the match turned severely manic with the leaders holding on and the eventual losers reluctant to deserve such a title, but eventually it ended and the audience was able to breathe and divert their attention towards iPhone screens again. The Argentina-Belgium quarter final should be a tasty affair, in fact in hindsight, I can tell you it was only slightly appetising, but still worth reading my piece on it, should I get round to it in more efficient time.

Day 19; Sweeper Keeper

Day 19 was inhabited by two comparingly similar games, two group winners and established World Cup super powers, France and Germany, met Nigeria and Algeria respectively, with both nations trying to put Africa on the map. In World Cup terms, obviously.

Algeria had put themselves in the first knockout phase of their history, whilst Nigeria to emulate the Super Eagles' who found success at France 98, through the power, pace, skill and entertaining hairstyles of Taribo West and Jay-Jay Okocha. But overcoming an impressive so far French side who had been scoring at will earlier in the tournament was not going to be easy, nor was defeating a German side for Algeria, on the grounds that they're simply German, and therefore capable of emotionless efficiency in footballing prowess.

Entertaining hairstyles

The games were played out similarly also, with France-Nigeria being the earlier game, allowing the play to bask in the immaculate sunshine as well as the lime light of the TV cameras. Nigeria looked to sit back and keep their sheets clean, keeping a sturdy, well organised back four, protected by John Obi Mikel, who looked to initiate counter attacks every now and then utilising the pace of Ahmed Musa, scorer of a great solo goal in the group stage, and Martin Keown's 'Power Horse,' Emineke. All this, in addition with the the fact France were starting Giroud in replace of the far more exciting, Antoine Greizmann, meant Les Bleu had their work cut out when trying to break the deadlock.

Hours later, it was the same thing was cooked up by Algeria and Germany. Not for the want of trying, Deutschland food it difficult to tika-taka and 'False 9' their way through the Algerian barricade. With frequent counter attacks being inflicted over the high altitude heads of Mertesacker and Hummels, as the pairs well known lack of pace was attempted to be exploited, especially as Germany held such a high defensive line to intensify pressure on their opponents. Fortunately, Manuel Neuer had appeared to embody of the defensive abilities of Franz Beckenbauer, sweeping up everything beyond his defence in lightning quick time, charging off his line and cleaning up any mess made by his teammates like the Kaiser himself would've in the seventies. A perfect display of the 'Sweeper Keeper' role, and at times, an example of a darn good centre back.

Neuer's sweeping shown via gif. Algeria would've went one-on-one with him on 89 minutes

Neuer sweeping shown via heat map.

At nil nil both games remained, until France finally broke down the wall, via the head of Paul Pogba. Vincent Enyema had been sublime not just in France's national league, or 'Ligue' if you prefer, but brilliant enough in this fixture to deny France on repeated occasions. But with 10 minutes remaining, the Nigeria keeper flapped at a corner, which found it's way onto the tramlines and dyed head of Paul Pogba, whose looping header gave him his first of the tournament, and agony for the African side. Greizmann, finally swapped for Giroud, provided a second goal in injury time, to put France into just their second quarter final since Zidane's headers won the 1998 trophy.

Their opponents for such a tie were still unclear, as they waited on the 90 minute-long, yet exciting stalemate between Algeria and neighbours, Germany. The game drifted into extra time as result of missed German chances, and more outstanding goalkeeping in this tournament, not just the sweeping Neuer at one end, but M'Bohli of Algeria at the other. Another reason for the stalemate was a disappointing performance from Ozil, as the ("Yah") Gunners ("yah!") playmaker, quite simply struggled to 'make play.'

"How do I even deserve this?"

But two minutes in the extra half an hour, Andre Schurlle, on as a half time sub for Mario Gotze, reacted quickly and improvised well, as low cross came to him at speed and behind him, before the Chelsea man flicked it from beneath him and beyond the formerly unbeatable M'Bohli. This consequently opened the game up, with Algeria forced to attempt to control the game. Whilst doing so, they conceded a second, Mesut Ozil sprung through one and one with goalkeeper, with a chance to make amends for his lacklustre performance, with a composed, classy finish. But he completely bottled it. Perhaps scared of making a bad day even worse, he opted to unselfishly/cowardly lay the ball off to Schurlle, whose miss came straight back to Ozil, this time with an even easier, almost unmissable task of putting it in the empty net. He did just that, a undeserved goal if ever I've seen one.

Unlike Ozil, Algeria did eventually score a goal they did deserve, when Djabou converted Feghoui's pass in the 121st minute of yet another excellent World Cup tie, a phrase I seem to be repeating daily. The Germany and France quarter final should contribute to this trend.

Day 18; An emotional Sunday of World Cup football

The dressing down of Spain, form of Robben and fact that their manager is one of sports media's most sought after, due to filling Sir Alex Ferguson's Old Trafford dugout after Moyes had kept it warm and probably sweaty for him, are all reasons which have put Netherlands right in the spotlight at this World Cup, as they've emerged as one of favourites. Day 18 saw them enter the knockout stages against Mexico on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

Whilst enjoying the chicken dinner on offer, the first half action witnessed over my grandmother's shoulder was struggling to maintain heat, unlike the gravy drenched potatoes on my plate, as Mexico disrupted Holland from finding any real rhythm, as sent out by their repeatedly enjoyable to watch manager, Miguel Herrera. Arjen Robben going down in the box, not for the first time in his career, more like the thousandth time, provided the only real Dutch threat in the first half, but his trademark open-mouth, wrinkly faced appeal, fell on deaf ears.

Never have I seen someone so determined to win a penalty. Big fan of a spot kick is Arjen.

Day 17 (and 16); Brazil shoot out Chile, and King HA-MEZ Rodriguez.

As day sixteen was the first time that no games were played since the World Cup began with Pitbull in those white trousers, I shall brush over it and go straight to the seventeenth day, and the start of the knockouts. On the day off, news stories seemed to conveniently emerge back home rather than in Brazil, with transfers being sealed, swooped and confirmed as well as players arriving at training grounds for medicals, proven by footage of them walking in and out of parked cars, and even players holding up the shirts of their new clubs with fixed-smiles.

"Day 16."

Day 14 & 15; Group stage is over, now let's move on.

The group stage is now over, and so is that delightful honeymoon period of the beginning of the World Cup, but unlike the stereotypes of many post-honeymoon relationships, our love affair with the World Cup should get even better now the initial stages have concluded. Through reasons which mainly circulate around the sheer depressing nature of England's campaign, motivation to write, talk, or even talk about football has been at somewhat of a low, thus the entwining of days 14 and 15 as I try to, unlike England, get past the group stage and enjoy the remainder of the tournament, and as quickly as possible.

Time to change my phone background?

Before this could happen though, groups E to H had to be resolved, whether teams had already qualified or booked plane tickets home or not. Wednesday saw last sixteen anticipating France, met Ecuador, with chances of qualifying still very much possible, hinging on fellow hopefuls, Switzerland's match against 'next-flight-home-Honduras.' Out of all four teams on display, only one team managed to trigger the Goal Line Technology, and only one player, Xherdan Shaqiri. The Bayern Munich winger, built like a solid muscular cube, and linked with a transfer to a number of clubs, one of which wears a red kit on Merseyside, put in one of the individual performances of the competition to date, and providing it with it's first hat-trick, displaying a range of attributes in all three goals. 

The first was undoubtedly the most pleasing to the eye, initially showing ridiculous strength as the seemingly three-foot tall young man held players twice his size off the ball, and then, moving away from goal, outside the box, hammered a shot past the Honduran between the sticks to put his country one up. Half an hour into the game he had his second, this time catching the opponents on the break as he tore up the ground with silly pace to make himself available for a simple pass, to finish a one on one with composure I'd love to liken to Michael Owen if you'd all let me. After scoring, he insisted on over-complimenting the seemingly simple assist, pointing at his team mate several times to make the crowd aware of the part he played in the goal, heartwarming, but somewhat awkward as Shaqiri and Drmic exchanged points and smiles as if to say; "this guy!" "No no, THIS guy."

Drmic and an apparently drunk Shaqiri, exchanging points  

Meanwhile, France and Ecuador were playing out a nil-nil draw, enlightened only by the odd penalty appeal and another red card for Antonio Valencia, who on the back of his red card worthy-tangle with Raheem Sterling in the pre-tournament friendlies, seems to having be having a mid-career crisis, trying to reinvent himself as a 'no nonsense hard-man.' His namesake and nothing more, Enner Valencia, seemed the most likely to score for the South Americans, and not just because he's their only player to score in the competition, but also because of his gigantic leap when attempting to win headers that were, to quite Andy Townsend, 'in and around the box.'

But elsewhere, Shaqiri alone was continuing to supply everything the France-Ecuador game didn't, goals, he completed his hat-trick with a third left footed finish, and second unselfish celebration, as the Swiss team pointed and hugged themselves into the second round, alongside the previously free-scoring and now deadlocked, French.

Earlier on this day, Argentina who had ready qualified with much help of Messi's brilliance on the biggest stage of them all, added further momentum with a 3-2 victory over Nigeria, with much help of Messi's brilliance on the biggest stage of them all, creating a general consensus that this may really be the World Cup where he reaches the legendary status of Maradona, although hopefully without heartbreaking handballs 'from God,' severe obesity, terribly presented Argentine television programmes, and cocaine. Lionel's most impressive moment of the fixture was his free-kick, which curled into the top corner in a manner which could've only been sent there by a player on top form, with pretty much everything he's touching going right. However for Vincent Enyema, touching things appeared to the problem, as he watched the free-kick glide past him, barely moving a limb. The Nigerian goalkeeper seemed to beaten by the fact that the free-kick was taken by Messi, rather than the actual quality of the strike.

Enyema joined the thousands in the stadium and millions at home, as he watched Messi score.

'OMG ARE U LIONEL MESSI?'

The other, dramatically less viewed game was Bosnia versus Iran, in which the European side (that's Bosnia for those of you without a big enough brain or atlas) with nothing to play for, sunk their opponents who still had fairytale dreams of escaping the captivity of the group stage. Edin Dzeko hit a ball in a goal, after having the worst shots to goal ratio in the tournament beforehand; A very high number of shots : 0 goals.

At 2 nil down, the outstandingly surnamed Ghoochannejhad gave Iran hope on 82 minutes by pulling one back, only to have their dreams torn up and handed back to them a matter of seconds later as Bosnia reinstated their lead, and that was day 14.

The day after saw USA under German, Coach Klinsmann, meet their now Californiacated manager's motherland, Germany, in a match that if a draw occurred, both teams would qualify at the expense of Portugal and Ghana in the formerly known; 'Group of Death,' and now referred to as the group with 'Everything to play for.' But the worry was that the only thing USA and Germany would 'play for' would be a draw, fuelled by a similar situation in 1982 when Germany met best buds Austria and conjured a German victory, the stereotype that Germans are awfully slimy characters and the Illuminati.

Illuminati.

But the contest was well fought, with Müller's ridiculously technically efficient side-foot shot into Tim Howard's net the only difference between the two sides. Well not the only difference, as USA also had a couple of players with dreadlocks, not to be found in the German ranks. Despite the loss, Ghana's shortcomings and Ronaldo's inability to score more than one goal per World Cup finals meant his Portugual side were eliminated, despite a 2-1 victory over the African nation, lead by Asamoah Gyan, the richest man with the number 3 etched into the side of his head. Portugal ultimately paid the price for their poor opener against Germnay/Pepe being a nonce.

Group H was by far the least entertaining group, bucking the trend that this World Cuo has been the most enjoyable yet. The fixtures responsible for providing one last Group H snoozefest, sharing the blame with Capello, were Algeria versus the Italian's Russians, and lightly shaded horses, rather than dark, Belgium, against South Korea. 

When so called 'Russian Golden Boy,' Kokorin, nailed in a header in the sixth minute, Capello must've thought his World Cup misery was finally ending, looking somewhat excited in his little red sweater vest. But normal service was resumed, and again Algeria were making the best paid manager in the tournament look silly. Slimani's equaliser was enough to put Algeria through into the last sixteen, whilst condoning Russia to elimination and Capello to join Hodgson and Prandelli, as the least successful but most rich managers in Brazil. 

Belgium yet again bored us for most of a match, with rare excitement provided by one of their midfielders seeing a red cats for a randomly over aggressive challenge. The over aggressor in question was Steven Defour, whose surname sounds like that of Jermaine Defoe, being pronounced by a Jamaican. The team whose pre-tournament hype has meant they were stripped of their 'surprise package' tag, did still steal three points as Spurs centre-back and Belgium left back followed scored a rebound in the 77th minute, another late(ish) goal for the not-so-much-surprise-package-more-like-expected-delivery-which-arrived-on-time-and-was-pretty-much-what-we-anticipated-if-not-are-a-little-underwhelmed-by-it. 

Verthongen after scoring for the dark horses with a red and yellow diagonal stripe through them.

Day 13; An almost 'bite-pun-free' roundup.

Was today even a day? Like, there was the England game, in all it's mind numbingly depressing glory, then Luis Suarez bit someone again, then there were some other games afterwards, I think. After checking BBC Sports' results page, I can tell you in hindsight that today was the day that as well as Group D's ugly curtain coming down, was also filled with Japan versus Colombia and Greece against Ivory Coast.

To the tune of; 'Don't look back in anger, I heard you say.'

But undoubtedly the main even kicked off at 5pm as England's 'young lions', so, cubs, opened up the surprise package, Costa Rica. Sadly, inside the package was a dull game, despite containing England's first point of these finals. Insult to injury for those among us who remain optimistic, defend Roy, defend Rooney and defend the way we defend, as our loyalty was still not rewarded with anything to shout about, other than an appeal for a penalty when Sturridge, on the cusp of surely scoring, was tripped up, to the disinterest of the referee. 

Simultaneously, another rather dull game was being carried out. In contrast to England-Costa Rica though, this may have been due to the nerves of what Italy and Uruguay were playing for, rather than the so called 'pride' that we were competing for, which is just a gift-wrapped way to describe having nothing to play for. England's conquerors were playing for the final Group D place in the last 16, after the first one was stolen (fairly) by Costa Rica. However, a draw would've been enough for the Italians, famous for being able to frustrate the world's greatest strikers, throwing clean sheets over them regularly when needed. And they literally did frustrate the world's greatest striker, the very frustratable, Luis Suarez.

With less than ten minutes to go, his country needed a goal to make all of his hard work worthwhile, not just in destroying England, but on the training ground and medical rooms to even get fit for this World Cup. The anger and deep, deep content this could cause on a player is obviously serious, especially in the adrenaline-filled mania that is professional sport, but not for the first time, the way Luis Suarez dealt with all this was simply unthinkable and inexcusable, especially considering he'd done this all already. Twice.

This picture genuinely makes me feel sad 

Suarez took a bite out of Georgio Chiellini as the two tangled inside the box, and in doing so, created the biggest controversy of the World Cup so far. The weird thing is, this tenacious, almost animalistic side to the Liverpool striker was supposed to have been well and truly tamed. A year on after sinking his teeth into Branislav Ivanovic, the impact of Rodgers' arm around Suarez and other man management methods had turned his disciplinary record around. Missing a chunk of the season, Suarez returned to football in October, instantly winning back the respect of many, scoring goal after goal and bar a Gerrard slip and Crystal Palace collapse, would've possibly fired Liverpool all the way back to the top, picking up the PFA Player of the Year award in the process. Along the way, we all got an insight into his lime, the negative attention allowed us to see Suarez, the family man, a seemingly genuine nice guy, albeit with a nasty temper.

Which leads this quizzical onlooker to thinking, surely this little genius of a footballer is actually a bit mental? I find it hard to believe, a man clearly so intelligent within his field, likeable off the pitch as far as I'm aware, (through such thorough research as a FourFourTwo interview with him and what Stevie G says about him) would really have an underlying evil enough side to him to think it's logical and justifiable to bite an opponent. Of course what he did is in no way defendable, but rather than trying to disgrace this man, maybe an element of sympathy should be donated as well, for there is undoubtedly something going on in Luis Suarez's fascinating brain that we, and maybe even he himself, does not quite understand.

Away from psychology, the match was settled by Diego Godin, shortly after Suarez's gnaw, and Uruguay qualified for the last sixteen at the expense of Italy, who many raved about after they narrowly beat England, maybe an indication of just poor we really are currently. Another indication was the final result in the previously mentioned dull-affair with Costa Rica, which despite the attacking prowess in our weaponry, finished nil-nil.

Not how a happy ending to a World Cup looks

The day's later events featured Greece's late gasp victory against Ivory Coast and consequent qualification to the the knockout round for the first, with the uncomfortably feminine looking Giorgos Samaras converting a softly awarded late penalty. Greece were yet to score in their campaign before this game and progressed on the traditional 'skin on their teeth' total, that is fourn points, at the expense of their African opponents. The other group C game's final score was much more one sided. Colombia, one of the most impressive and enjoyable teams to watch at these finals so far, defeated Japan by four goals to one, with help of yet another classy display from James Rodriguez, typified with the piffest of piffy goals. Already with two assists earlier in the match, the youngster whose name is pronounced 'Ha-Mez,' not James, ran onto the ball with a defender blocking his route to goal, with a jig-like shimmy the last man was thrown the wrong way before Rodriguez just lifted this deft chip over the keeper's head and peeled away to celebrate the most suave goal of the World Cup 2014. But all of this was eclipsed by a Uruguayan man biting an Italian, and all of the easy puns in headlines that it has caused. Food for thought?

Piff goal.

Day 12; Group A and B conclude, in non-alphabetical order

The final round of group games have arrived, and qualifications and plane tickets home are set to all be confirmed. Whilst minnows such as Englamd and Spain may already know their doomed fate, and heavyweights like Costa Rica already have one eye on the knock-outs, day 12 saw three teams play who are yet to confirm a top two finish in group A. Group B's matters had already been settled, with Holland and Chile qualifying ahead of Australia and Spain as they end their golden era, fittingly dressed in all black. (Ignore the fluorescent trimmings.) However the final placing of the two qualifiers was yet to be confirmed, and depending on who finished top, the chances of meeting Brazil, should they qualify, hung.

This meant the colourful-fan-derby between Netherlands and Chile, was key to the final group B standings, with a draw for the Oranje being enough to keep them above the Football Hipster's pick. The match itself was a "tactical" encounter, an adjective used by those in a studio who don't want to admit that a game has been dull. Chile possessed a large majority of the ball, but left enough men back to survive the expected counter-attacks that were so effective for the Dutch when they conquered Spain. Yet, on the counter Holland were still a threat, via the everlasting and always increasing pace of Arjen Robben, who predictably flew across the pitch diagonally from right to left, to angle a shot on his favoured foot, which he dragged just wide.

Colourful.

Meanwhile, Spain versus Australia had a testimonial feel to it, with David Villa, Spain's record goalscorer and general legend, playing his last game for his country, and fittingly marked it with another goal, stretching him another strike ahead of any other legendary Spanish striker or Fernando Torres. Also making their international bow, was the elegant Xabi Alonso, as the pass master mastered his last pass, on the international stage at least. The holders actually finally put in a champions-ish performance, albeit against a somewhat second-string Australia side, arguably the weakest of second-strings available in Brazil, likely to tear under any great pressure. On 69 minutes, Torres pulled the strings apart further, adding a second Spanish goal with a neat finish, sparking exclamations of; "He's back to his best," few seriously and hopefully mainly in irony.

Villa and Alonso, standing back upright after making their 'international bow.'

Back in São Paulo, Netherlands and Chile's deadlock had finally been broken, via an unlikely source considering his employers, Norwich City's Leroy Fer. The substitute leapt above the factually tiny Chile tea,, and power a header into the extreme-right hand side of the net. Yet another #SuperSub in this tournament, possible evidence of the humid conditions tiring those outfield all game long, emphasising the fresh-legged and in this case, fresh headed, substitutes effects on the outcome of the match. This goal on 77 minutes, all but secured Holland's position as group leaders, before Robben's outstanding pace yet again flung him through, this time to provide an assit for yet again a substitute, to score. Memphis Depay was the man apply the tap-in, his second of the tournament which hit the back of the net ten minutes after Juan Mata had added a third Spain goal in their simultaneously played match.

Then it was time for 'Everything to play for Group A,' incidently taking place after group B had concluded, the alphabet is said to be furious. Cameroon had experienced an awful World Cup so far, including no goals scored, a terribly stupendous red card for Alex Song and fighting between teammates on the field. Forgiveness could be issue to those who assume the scenes inside the dressing room are even worse. However, after ruining their own tournament, they still had the ability to ruin everyone else's by causing a shock defeat to Brazil which could not only knock the hosts out, but trigger a rise in riots and general national uproar already situated in the country. At times it looked like that was possible, the team with only the abstract noun, pride, to play for, caused Brazil's defence a few problems, out-pacing the paciest defence.

Mr. World Cup 2014, Neymar, put Brazil ahead with a composed finish with the most text book of text book side-foot finishes. But after Thiago Silva hit his own cross bar, and along with other chances created, Cameroon pulled back to severely panic everyone. Whilst all this was happening, there was still a stalemate between Mexico and Croatia in their decider, the winner would guarantee a place in the next round, but more interestingly for us neutrals was the effect that fixture could have on Brazil's qualification, especially as both games were finely poised in the balance.

But, Neymar, with all the pressure on bis team but let's be honest, mainly him, continued to run this tournament. Some said he wasn't that great despite his two goals against Croatia, prbably the same people who say he was poor against Mexico, but surely no-one can dispute just how good he was here. He skipped through and applied a goalkeeper-deceiving finish to put Brazil back in control, and put him as the front runner to try on the Golden Boot. On the confidence of this, he produced a section of skilful play, 'YouTube search: Neymar Skills and Goals' worthy, controlling a high ball well, flicking over and opponents head afterwards, then charismatically over his own head to pass to another yellow shirt, before making an off the ball run which ensured him possession again, which he welcomed with feint touch off the outside of his foot to complete another pass, spinning full circle whilst doing so, arguably the move of the World Cup so far. All that was missing was another return to the number 10, and the net bulging.

To execute such skill, whilst apparently holding the weight of the world on his shoulders, or at least that of Brazil

The hosts went on to dominate, punishing Cameroon who dropped back into their bad habits of poor defending and simply poor football-ing. A Brazil-esque move after Mbia squandered possession rounded the game off, securing their place in the last 16 against Chile. Back in Arena Pernambuco (named after Juninho possibly? The guy with the free-kicks?), Mexico's World Cup veteran Rafa Marquez headed them into the lead, to delight his neckless, extravagant manager, Miguel Herrera. Then, with their World Cup very much on the slide, Croatia crumbled. Mexico went 3-nil up in a matter of ten minutes after scoring the opener, and although Perisic pulled a goal back for the Croats, their campaign still finished on a down note as Rebic was given a classic 'red card out of frustration' before the final whistle blew.