Day Fourteen

Czech Republic 0 Portugal 1

At Christmas it's the Two Ronnies, on a royal anniversary it's the Sex Pistols, and every June in even numbered years they reel out the football nostalgia docs. If you invest as much of your emotional capital in major international football tournaments as I do, they're a reliable trigger for the remembrance of things past. So seeing David Platt's winner against Belgium in 1990 on my wide screen the other night instantly took me back to the tiny telly in the Midlands pub we used to drink in back then. I can almost taste the purple nasties - a snakebite with a dash of blackcurrant, if you're wondering. I think all the cells in my body that thought that was a good idea have since been replaced.

A week later we were back in the same pub on my birthday, watching them lose to Germany on penalties. By Euro 1996 I'd moved to Bristol, and I remember seeing Croatia v Germany in a pub in the Mendips with a friend, the last time we ever did acid. Germany won despite Davor Suker's trickery and the way the grass kept moving around like that. Gives purple nasty a whole new meaning.

So there are games that become a part of your personal history, and then there are games like this one. This was the kind of game you soon realise won't be cropping up in your Euro 2020 blog. This was more like Sweden v Holland at Euro 2004, a game I must presumably have watched, but have no memory of.

Both teams normally play in red, so the Czechs took priority in the matter of shirt colour, having won their group. Portugal had to play in white instead. This will also apply tomorrow, when Greece and Germany play, as they both play in white. Germany will take precedence as goup winners, and Greece will have to defer to them and play in the away strip. I wonder how that will go down in Piraeus and Heraklion?

Although they didn't top their group, Portugal were still favourites. If you don't know anything about football, and apart from me who does, you could still work out why just by rating the players' clubs by budget. Portugal's starting 11 play for clubs like Real Madrid, Porto and Man Utd. Most of the Czech players play for teams like Bordeaux, or Besiktas. Perfectly good clubs, with a strong record in Europe, but not at the very top of the European club scene. They can afford decent B-list players, but they're not world class, not galacticos, like Ronaldo or Nani.

The referee was Howard Webb, an Englishman, as the commentator was keen to let us know. Brooks no nonsense from players, Howard Webb, he said. I'm not so sure about that. Webb refereed the last World Cup Final, and I seem to recall him brooking rather more nonsense from Holland than most observers thought he should have brooked.

Once we got going, it was the Ronaldo show again. Six of Portugal's first ten attempts on goal came from him, and nearly all the close ones.

The first real chance fell to him, as he muscled ahead of the defence to get his shot in. It was well saved, and the ref gave a foul against him anyway, but it was an ominous sign for the Czechs.

A few minutes later he had another go, with an overhead kick after a poor defensive clearance came straight back in again. It flew wide. Then his free kick attempt, well hit, went a yard wide.

Meanwhile, Miguel Veloso was booked for a poor tackle on Darida. At least that was the official reason, but I noticed the back of his shirt said Miguel, not Veloso, so hopefully he was partly booked for that. You never saw Trevor Brooking poncing about in a shirt that said Trevor, did you? Think on, young man.

On 38 minutes, Postiga's hamstring seemed to go. They stretchered him off, and brought Almeida on. He's out of the semi-final, but might be back for the final if they get there. They'll miss him.

On 43 minutes there was a reasonable shout for a Portuguese penalty, when the defender clearly had a hold of Nani's arm in the box. Martin Keown thought it was a dive, as he only had it for a second, but if you ask me holding for a second is holding.

In first half injury time Ronaldo nearly scored. The ball came into the box, he did some of his technicolour jiggery pokery to get clear of Kadlec, and his shot hit the post. Keown commented that he could have had three or four, but it was very noticeable that he hadn't.

The second half continued in similar vein. Ronaldo had another free kick, and hit the post again. It looked like Cech might have just tipped it, but the replay showed there was no contact. Goal kick.

The Czechs seemed at times to be struggling with their defensive clearances. There are three basic techniques for a clearance: the measured pass to a teammate, the forward hoof up the pitch and the lateral hoof to row Z. If you're passing to a teammate you'd better be sure it gets there, if you're hoofing it you try to avoid the vertical hoof, in which the ball goes a long way up before coming back down right where it started from. Limbersky in particular seemed to struggle with these fairly basic guidelines.

Almeida had the ball in the net immediately afterwards, heading home from a Nani cross, but was offside. Always a joy to see those forwards running offside, said Martin Keown. You aren't a proper BBC commentator until you know how to act up to your image.

After a flurry of positive Czech moves, the next big chance was Portugal's. Moutinho got the ball, wasn't closed down quick enough and his shot was well saved.

It was all too much for Cech, who punched his teammate Kadec in the head and kneed him in the ribs. Simultaneously, which is actually quite athletic. He made it look like he was going for the ball, but I think he reckoned his defence needed a breather. Except Kadec, who needed to breathe a little less. I love to see keepers coming for those, said Keown. They always lead with the knee, and it's usually the defenders that come off worst. Now there speaks a man who doesn't have to defend any more.

He's a man who know which side his bread is buttered on, is Keown. I remember during the World Cup he was commentating on a New Zealand game, and he wasn't in any way backwards in coming forward to do the coverage for their next qualifying campaign. Fiji, Vanuatu, the Solomons, there was nowhere he wouldn't let us fly him.

On 75 minutes, Nani broke through and so nearly scored. Kadlec just got a slight deflection on it, and it flashed over the bar with Cech nowhere. You thought they'd never score.

Then they scored. Moutinho made the run, and got the cross in. Ronaldo got across Selassie, put his head to it and directed it down. It wasn't actually his best effort of the game. Down is the right place to put it, but it bounced slightly too early, and passed the keeper at a savable height. Fortunately for Portugal it was fast enough to beat Cech's diving reach.

The commentator took the opportunity to go off on one about Ronaldo, as they do like to. Apparently if you include Real's pre-season fixtures last summer he's played almost 12 months of continuous football, and you have to give him credit for that. I'd probably have nodded off by September at the latest.

Pereira had a good shot, with a chance to finish things off, but the keeper saved well. The Portuguese manager decided to put safety first, and brought on defensive midfielder Custodio for Nani. Yes, Custodio. Or Custodio Miguel Dias de Castro, to give him his full name. Now you know what I said about Miguel Veloso above, so you know what I affect to think on the subject of players putting their first name on their shirts, but if you're a defensive midfielder whose real name is Custodio there may be some excuse.

With three minutes left, Ronaldo fell over in the box and appealed for a penalty. Just like old times. The commentator tried to sugggest he'd been impeded, but Keown brushed the suggestion aside like Norman Hunter squashing a recalcitrant striker.

The Czechs only managed two efforts all game, but when they got a corner in injury time their fans still cheered loyally. Even Cech went up for it, but they didn't manage a strike on goal and he had to scamper back as fast as his little legs would carry him. Limbersky intercepted the Portuguese breakout, giving us one last chance to namecheck him and mention the way he's had me thinking about cheese every time they play, but the whistle blew and the Czechs were on their way home. Which is at least quite close.

Portugal face the longest journey home of any team at the Championships. But not yet.

Day Nine

Greece 1 Russia 0

Czech Republic 1 Poland 0

The final games in each group are played simultaneously, because otherwise the teams in the second match would know exactly what they had to do to qualify, which would give them an unfair advantage. It's the most equitable approach, and in modern corporate football any attempt to be equitable can only be applauded, but it does pose a challenge for bloggers in the habit of watching entire games uninterrupted, then writing about them.

As both games are televised on different channels, the usual thing is to watch one game, whilst occasionally flicking to the other. I decided to bring you the Czech Republic against Poland, as it seemed likely to be the most significant game.

Poland needed to win or they were out, but the Czech Republic would get through with a draw, unless Greece beat Russia. This being considered about as likely as the banks bailing us out, it was expected that Poland would make most of the running.

So it proved early on. Pilar did have a good chance for the Czechs after 4 minutes, but after that it was all Poland in the first half. Lewandowski pounced on a loose pass, but his shot crashed into the side netting. Polanski and Boenisch both had efforts, Boenisch forcing Cech to push it around for a corner. You started to wonder if Cech had any more major errors in him.

The Czechs weren't getting forward much, but in the 37th minute Baros nearly got onto a lobbed ball alone in the box. It wasn't quite apparent how he missed it, but in the event it came tamely through to Tyton. Two minutes later a deflected shot bounced kindly to him as well, then he slightly fumbled a Pilar shot, but recovered before Baros could reach it. None of this really stretched him, it just served to keep him fresh and focused.

I turned over to Greece v Russia at halftime, and was lucky enough to see the Greek captain Karagounis score against Russia, apparently completely out of the blue. Karagounis just took the ball from a poor defensive header from Ignashevich on the touchline, ran it into the penalty area and shot under the keeper.

This changed the whole strategic balance of the group. It meant that as things stood, Russia would top the group with Greece in second place. The Czechs started the second half much more offensively than they finished the first. You felt that when they had the necessary incentive they were a far more potent attacking force than Poland, who also still needed to win.

The third round is always the most exciting part of the group phase. Teams make plans, they run routines on the training ground and bring them out onto the pitch, they get halfway through a game and then suddenly they have to do an instant doubletake because of events somewhere else. No-one had expected Greece to do anything against Russia, and here they were a goal up.

I switched back over, but the football had been replaced by some theatre. It was Aeschylus' Oedipus trilogy, the scene where the protagonist, realising what he's done, is about to tear out his eyes with his mother's brooch pin. He rends his hair, a rictus of despair carved into his motherlicking face. Oh no, it was just Karagounis again. He looked a little upset.

It turned out that he'd had a penalty denied, been booked for dissent (or possibly simulation) and would now miss the quarter final even if Greece qualified. Just to add to the tragedy, it would have been the game that made him Greece's most capped player. It was fortunate that Aeschylus is safely in his grave, for the horror would surely have overwhelmed him.

The Greek manager substituted him for Makos. It seemed for the best. Firing one last expletive in the ref's direction, he handed the captain's armband to Katsouranis and left.

I turned back to see the Czechs take the lead against Poland. Hubschman stole the ball from Murawski, ran it up to the box and laid it off to Baros. He played a one-two with Jiracek, jinked to the right and blasted home.

Suddenly the Czechs were top of the group, and Greece were second. The Russians were out because now the Czechs had scored they were head to head only with Greece, who were beating them, and not with the Czechs, who they'd beaten.

It was hard to know which game to follow, it was all so tight. I found myself flicking randomly between games every time the ball in the game I was watching went dead. Poland needed two goals to win, one goal to take it from the Czechs and give it to Russia. They were the only team who'd never been on to go through all evening, but they were still trying.

So were Russia. On one visit I saw Arshavin get his head to the ball from a Carroll-like distance. Going for direction rather than neck-busting force, he saw it flash just wide.

I stuck with them for the last five minutes. Greece were under almost constant pressure at the end, but they stood firm, held the line and got their reward. Let's hope the same happens in their election. Of course, there's one killing irony, which is that they'll now most likely be knocked out by Germany.

For Poland it was the end of the line. Even a late equaliser wouldn't have helped them, it would just have given Russia back the top spot. As things finished, the two winning teams are the two qualifiers from the group.

So one home nation is eliminated. Ukraine are also out unless they can beat England. If they did, England would be out unless France lost to Sweden by more goals. Everyone but France wants Sweden to get a hatful, but realistically England's progress depends on putting out the last host.

Greece and the Czech Republic play two from Germany (likely), Denmark and Portugal (50/50) and Holland (unlikely). We'll find out their opponents tomorrow, or as it's known in real time, today.

Day Five

We've seen everyone now. These were the first games with teams we'd seen before. And there's poignancy in the fact. It's now two years until we see a team for the first time in a major international football tournament. The clock is ticking, people, the clock is ticking. Enjoy yourselves, enjoy yourselves, ...

Greece 1 Czech Republic 2

I can't believe I called Ireland v Croatia the comedy game before I'd seen this one. I'm not sure about running it before the dramatic one though. I don't think Sophocles would have approved.

I missed the first goal as I was making a cup of tea. A foolish mistake, it's clearly not the kind of tournament where you can do that.

As I was putting the milk in I heard the commentator say he was relieved by the Greek selection. "There was a concern that the back four would have twenty eight syllables in their names". Worse, there would have been two Papadopouloses and a Papastathopoulos. Fortunately for everyone having to speak or type Papastathopoulos was suspended and one of the Papadopouloses was injured, so neither were available.

The Greeks might have stopped the second goal if they had been. I wouldn't have trusted their back four to carry a table, never mind hold off the dynamic Czech attack. Four corners, four defenders, it would have baffled them. Six minutes in, Gebre Selassie made one of his overlapping runs down the right, picked up the pass that came through the line unchallenged and knocked it back across the box, past the keeper. Two of the three players chasing it were Greek defenders, but somehow Pilar got the first touch with his knee, and bumped it into an empty net.

The Greek team really are a depressingly poor watch for a hopeful blogger. I've been waiting all these years to write a post that compares them to Achilles or the 300 Spartans, and they've never yet given me a chance. The fans dress in bronze age helmets, but they never get the heroes they deserve. It wouldn't be so bad if they lost heroically, but they never go out with a bang, it's always a whimper.

They did get the ball in the net after 40 minutes with Fotakis' header, but it was given offside. It was very tight, but looked level. It would have galvanised some teams, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Greece.

Finally the Czechs gave them one back themselves. A limp pass from Samaras bounced amiably into the penalty area, and Cech went to grab it. Somehow he fluffed it, and it rolled to Gekas, who kicked it over an unguarded line and into the net.

Cech tried to blame the defender, Sivok, who'd been coming towards him at the time, but replays show he'd missed the ball completely before Sivok got anywhere near him. They did bump slightly afterwards, but a goalkeeper needs to be able to grab a straightforward ball and hold on to it through a collision in those situations. As far as I could see Sivok was guilty of nothing but having a Vulcan name.

The goal gave Greece some encouragement, but they never seriously troubled the Czechs themselves. Ignoring their freak year in 2004, Greece's record at major tournaments is played 14, won 1, drawn 2, lost 11. Now they have to play Russia.

Poland 1 Russia 1

This was the one we'd been waiting for in Group A. Poland were at home, and it was Russia's national day. There was also the political angle.

Which was rather sharper than for instance the one between Holland and Germany. Germany occupied Holland for five years, and were booted out two thirds of a century ago. The Russian occupation of Poland lasted two centuries, with a 30 year hiatus, and only finished in 1989. A stronger analogy might be to the Germany v Holland final of 1974, if the German support that day had displayed a banner saying This is Germany. Which they may have done, given that it was. Warsaw isn't in Russia though, and the Russian fans that chose to wave a banner saying it was may not have trying too hard to move on from a difficult past.

Officialdom were doing their bit to raise the tone. They covered the stadium in well meaning banners. RESPECT: say no to racism they said - in English. In English?? For fuck's sake.

This amounts to saying you know those people you don't like, the ones who bestride the world with imperialist fervour, whose money markets fuck you over like a good 'un, whose moneybags clubs take all your best players? They're the ones that don't like racism. I don't like pop tarts, but if someone told me bankers hated them I might see them in a different light.

Yes, you're right, let's focus on the football. And an excellent game it was too. The Poles had the best of the first half. After 18 minutes Polanski thought he'd scored from a Lewandovski pass, but it was just offside. It was Russa that scored first though, after 37 minutes, when an Arshavin free kick was headed on by Dzagoev. It followed a violent foul by Wasilevski, so there was some justice in it, but it was a kick in the teeth for the home crowd.

Lewandowski had some chances, as he did against Greece. He shot narrowly over from 25 yards in the first half, then went round the keeper in the first minute of the second, but the keeper got back at him. A few minutes later the keeper just beat him to a loose ball on the edge of the 6 yard box.

They got their equaliser on 57 minutes. It was a counter-counterattack, a clever trick if you can pull it off.

Poland were going forward with the ball, but lost it. Arshavin charged down the pitch and laid the ball along the edge of the Polish box, but it was intercepted by a Polish defender. They gathered the ball and played it up to their forwards, who were still in position from the previous attack. Obraniak passed it to Blaczszowsky, who cut inside and hit the best shot of the tournament so far.

The rest of the game was a tense affair, especially for me. I was drinking Guinness, and didn't want to miss any of the action, so I was waiting for somebody to be injured or substituted so I could go for a piss. In the end biology won, as it always will in this crassly physical world, then as soon as I got back Polanski had to go off for treatment. I didn't miss anything crucial, but it got me thinking anyway.

There's a sports bar up the Gloucester Road which has solved this problem. The urinals are positioned in front of a narrow window, starting at shoulder height. This protects the drinker's modesty, whilst the slanted glass enables him to see the TV on the wall just below.

There are times when it's supremely satisfying to be in a space which has been designed with your needs in mind. Surely a simple amendment to the next Housing Act could oblige developers to introduce this innovation in all new housing?

The full time whistle set up a tense final day on which all four teams might get through to the quarter finals, but no-one was guaranteed to. Any combination of two is still possible except Poland and the Czechs. In fact Poland now have to beat the Czechs or they don't progress. On their showing tonight I wouldn't bet against it.

Day One

Finally, after 698 days without a major international football tournament, we're under way. It's impossible to explain what this means to non-fans, some of whom are given to describing football as "always on". This is clearly delusional. I mean, it isn't on right now, as I type this. It wasn't on yesterday when I got in from work. There are loads of times football isn't on, even for people with Sky Sports.

The big tournaments, in particular, are rarely on. The 2010 World Cup lasted 31 days. Euro 2012 will last 24 days. That's 55 days in 4 years, a mere 3.8% of the time. Hardly a serious imposition for the haterz, and hardly adequate for us.

Yes, the other continents have their month, and there's stuff like the Confederations Cup. Plus, there's the usual club season for nine months of the year. 23 home games for Bristol City, the Champions League on ITV on a Wednesday, the FA Cup. I admit we aren't entirely ignored. But full on football jamborees remain rare and precious, and I fail to see how anyone can feel in any way miffed if they get a little attention while they're on.

The opening ceremony

They started with Group 1, as is traditional. This year it's considered the easiest group. Poland and Warsaw got the first game, so Ukraine and Kiev will host the final.

The opening ceremony was before the match, which is traditional as well. We were informed it was not to be "a long drawn out affair", which went down well with everyone. Seb Coe, take note.

There was the usual floor show, dancers, streamers, large polystyrene objects, you know how these things go. It was all colour coded, red and white for Poland, blue and yellow for Ukraine, all black for - well, for reasons that remained unclear. Either Poland has a nationally respected tradition of witchery, or maybe they were meant to symbolise the referees. Best not to wonder why. Best to just let these things wash over you.

There was a piano, and suddenly someone was playing Chopin. He was Polish, you know. So was Copernicus, but I didn't see anyone wheeling on a polystyrene orrery. They could have put a guy in yellow in the middle, and red, white and blue dancers could have whirled round him to the music of Holst. Or Tchaikovsky, who was Ukrainian.

If only they'd asked me to do the choreography. I could have saved them some mistakes. I wouldn't have had the pianist doing keepy uppy, for a start. As a ball juggler, he was an internationally recognised classical pianist.

Towards the end they got the audience to hold up cards of different colours, to display the 16 flags of the competing nations. I couldn't help wondering what would happen if they asked England fans to do that. Everyone colouring the foreign ones in red and white, probably. I haven't addressed the subject of hypocrisy and racism yet, but I may well make some quite trenchant comments in the near future.

So that was the opening ceremony. I always enjoy them, not so much for the spectacle as for the accumulated memories of anticipation I've acquired down the years. In many ways they're the perfect moment, given that you've never got as much football to come as you have just before it starts.

Poland 1 Greece 1

So the kick off is almost a sad moment, marking the moment at which the amount of football left starts to go down. On the other hand, they are finally actually playing some football. And the game turned out very well, considering everyone's low expectations of it. Poland haven't made it out of the group phase in 30 years, making them the Scotland of Eastern Europe, while Greece have an even worse record at major tournaments, usually qualifying in fine style before crashing and burning against teams from Korea to Argentina. They did win Euro 2004, though, so can't be ruled out.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Before the kick off were the national anthems. Not that I'm a fan of nationalism generally, especially the pointy-headed versions of it that like to hang around the fringes of football, but I'd miss them on these occasions. We don't have them at club games, except when Welsh teams come to Ashton Gate and our fans mysteriously sing the British national anthem at them, so when they are sung they contribute to the sense of specialness.

And the actual words of a song aren't always the point. I don't believe in some divine entity that wants to Abide With Me, but you like to hear it at a Cup final. Liverpool fans can still bring a lump to your throat even though they they probably do walk places on their own sometimes.

The Greeks went first. I was expecting "Money too tight to mention", or maybe "Buddy can you spare a dime", but instead we got the Hymn to Freedom. I recognise you by the sharpness of your fearsome sword, it begins. I take back the previous two paragraphs. I hate national anthems, they're so - nationalist.

Poland's anthem goes Poland has not yet perished, so long as we still live. It's a sentiment you might expect from a country with Poland's geopolitical dliemmas, but I would have gone with Dear God, thanks for the lovely country and everything, but did you have to sandwich us between Germany and Russia, you sadistic bastard? Choregraphy, national anthems, there's no end to the things I'll never be trusted with.

Poland's most familiar face was Szczesny in goal. He's the only Premiership player in the squad. The Greek keeper, Chalkias, is the oldest player in the tournament. Their only player who plays in Britain is Samaras of Celtic.

So not many household names, but you might have recognised some of them from European competitions, in particular Lewandowski, Piszczek and Blaszczykowski of Borussia Dortmund. They were champions of Germany this year, and all three are important to Poland.

And after a nervous first two minutes, it was Poland that took control. Lewandowski was clearly Poland's brighest hope. I know this because I typed Lewandowski is clearly Poland's brightest hope into my notes after 15 minutes, and in the 17th minute he scored. It would have been clever and insightful if it wasn't so fucking obvious. In other news, it's going to be dark in a minute. Told you.

He took his goal well. Chalkias came out for a cross he was never going to get, and Lewandowski came onto it while the keeper was in exactly the wrong place. He did what good strikers do in that position, he headed it down. He knew it would pass Chalkias at ground level, and wouldn't bounce up to a catchable height until it was safely beyond him and heading into the net.

A fine goal. And a home goal, just what the first game of every tournament needs. The crowd went wild. That's what crowds do in that situation, and it would have been weird if they hadn't. I've done it myself, without any sense of ironic distance. 

Things carried on like this for the rest of the first half. Perquis missed a rebound from a free kick when it seemed easier to score, then headed another one wide. The Greeks substituted a Papadopoulos. Sorry, the Greeks substituted A Papadopoulos. Capitals are harder on a laptop. They brought on K Papadopoulos to replace him, which made me wonder if England had ever done that. Cole, Neville, Ferdinand, there's a few candidates. Anyone know?

Sokratis Papastathopoulos (not to be confused with either Papadopoulos) picked up a yellow card for a fairly innocuous challenge on a high ball. A few minutes later he got another one and was off. He wasn't the first footballer to be called after Socrates, but he must have been annoyed to get hemlocked for rather less offence than the original.

So at halftime it all looked done and dusted. Greece brought on Salpingidis on for Ninis, though, and five minutes after the restart he scored an equaliser out of nothing.

It was Szczesny's fault, really. He came for a cross his defender was already challenging for, didn't get it, and ended up sprawled on the ground. The ball fell to Salpingidis, who knocked it past the defender and in. Salpingidis also scored the goal that woke the Greeks up against Nigeria in the World Cup. In that game Kaita was sent off, and the Greeks took advantage. This time they equalised with ten men.

Soon after, Salpingidis got through again. Szczesny brought him down, gave away a penalty and got sent off. He now misses the Russia game, although he'll be available again for the Czechs.

Although they may well stick with Tyton, who saved Karagounis' penalty. He plays for Eindhoven, and was little unknown outside Poland and Holland until yesterday. It's a hell of a way to announce yourself, and he did well for the rest of the game as well.

Still one all then, and that's how it stayed. Salpingidis got the ball in again after 73 minutes, but another player was ruled offside. It was a close decision, but correct.

Overall it was a great start to the tournament. It's hard to see either team progressing though. Which is a little depressing, because you want the home nations to do well, or the atmosphere around the event can fall a little flat. The Ukrainians could also get to a quarter final, but realistically it would be at England's expense, so let's hope Poland can do it instead.

Russia 4 Czech Republic 1

I was rude about national anthems earlier, but the Czech one is lovely. Here are the words.

Where is my home, where is my home?
Water roars across the meadows,
Pinewoods rustle among crags,
The garden is glorious with spring blossom,
Paradise on earth it is to see.
And this is that beautiful land,
The Czech land, my home,
The Czech land, my home.

No blood, no swords, no dulce et decorum est. Doctor Who could sing it without a qualm.

The Russian one is the old communist one, doctored. Never mind. At least there's nothing about Stalin in it any more.

Howard Webb was in charge of the game. Cue lots of Twitter jokes about Ferguson's comments about his fitness, which was odd, because the ref in question then was Alan Wiley. That's the thing about Twitter, false memes fly with the same speed as true ones.

The game was played in Wroclaw, which is only 50 miles from the Czech Republic. Most of the singing seemed to be in Russian though, as they dominated the game. Dzagoev scored 15 minutes in, after Kerzhakov headed against the post.

It was a lead they never looked likely to lose. 8 minutes later Shirokov doubled it when he got to a loose diagonal ball from Arshavin which Cech was expecting his defence to cut out, and dinked it over him.

The Czechs did their bit though, in another entertaining game. Maybe we've been deprived in the last few weeks, but I'm really enjoying things so far.

Russia could have gone further ahead. Every time they nearly scored, the camera cut to a beautiful woman in the crowd, for no obvious reason. Not the same one, that would be stalking, but it you couldn't help notice the male fans they zoomed in on weren't being selected for reasons of pulchritude.

A few minutes into the second half the Czechs got one back. Pilar got inside Anyakov for once, went round Malafeev and knocked it past the covering defenders, who couldn't get back in time.

The camera cut to another smiling young woman, with Czech face painting rather than Russian. Yet again she was (metaphorically) sandwiched between men of less immediate appeal. This constant appeal to the lowest common denominator annoys me so much. Rage? I'm stiff with it.

The Czechs might have equalised when Rosicky shot from 30 yards in the 73rd minute. Malafeev stopped it, but it bounced up off his left arm. With Czech forwards closing, he twisted athletically to grab it before they could get in.

It was their last hurrah, as the Russians scored twice in five minutes. Firstly Pavlyochenko passed to Dzagoev, who took his time, measured his shot and put it beyond Cech's diving reach.

Then Pavlyochenko scored the goal of the day. Running down the left, he turned the Czechs this way and that, made himself half a yard and hit it hard and true. It was a pure striker's goal. The defenders didn't do a lot wrong, they're just not Pavlyochenko.

The Czechs did score right at the end of injury time, but it was ruled out for offside. It seemed to sum up their night.

So now we've seen the Group 1 teams. Russia stood out, which was expected, and it's really any of the other three to go through with them. You'd expect at least one Group B team in the semis though. We'll see them tomorrow.