FIFA World Cup 2010 match 1 - Group A
South Africa v Mexico, 11th June - Johannesburg

South Africa: Khune, Gaxa, Mokoena, Thwala (Masilela 45), Khumalo, Tshabalala, Pienaar (Parker 83), Modise, Letsholonyane, Dikgacoi, Katlego Mphela.

Mexico: Perez, Rodriguez, Salcido, Marquez, Osorio, Aguilar (Guardado 56), Juarez, Torrado, Franco (Hernandez 73), Vela (Blanco 69), Giovani.

It was difficult to guess how South Africa would cope with the spotlight of being World Cup hosts. Playing at home has its' obvious advantages but would one of the weaker playing squads be lifted by the support and the historical nature of the event or be burdened by the weight of hope and expectation? The early signs were that they might simply play true to form, with honest endeavour but lacking genuine international class.

Mexico soon had control of possession and the game, keeping the hosts on the defensive for the most part. South Africa's attempts to attack lacked guile or real purpose. Mexico were neat and controlled but without genuine penetration.

There was a real possibility that South Africa might gift the Mexicans the opening goal as their defence and goalkeeper started nervously. Khune spilled a low centre from the right at the feet of Giovani but was rescued by the lunging block of his captain Mokoena. Even more alarming was the lack of marking from two set pieces which gifted Franco free headers in front of goal but each time the Mexican striker was woefully off target.

Juarez gained the tournaments' first yellow card for a combination of handball and then preventing the free kick from being taken quickly. When South Africa did hoist the ball into the box it was immediately cleared and Mexico were threatening on the break after more tentative defending. Giovani was allowed to run unchallenged from halfway before slicing his left footed shot wide from the edge of the box.

Mexico did have the ball in the net following a corner through Vela but the strike was rightly ruled out for offside. Again South Africa were somewhat fortunate, however, because the Mexican was only left offside by a mad rush from his line by Khune which got him nowhere near the ball but did inadvertantly catch Vela in an illegal position.

South Africa's one moment of promise in the first half came when Tshabalala produced a delicious cross from the left but Katlego Mphela was unable to catch up with it in front of a gaping goal. Dikgacoi, who apparently plays for Fulham, sent in a half decent header from a corner that was comfortably wide but the hosts must surely have been happy to reach the interval with the game still goalless.

Half Time: South Africa 0 Mexico 0

The second half started in mundane fashion until South Africa suddenly took the lead with a goal which, given their performance hitherto, was almost impossible to comprehend. Some slick one touch passing around the halfway line ended with Dikgacoi sliding a wonderful diagonal ball through to the charging Tshabalala who drove deep into the box before unleashing a magnificent drive across Perez into the top left hand corner.

From here on in there was little in the way of real chances as Mexico strove to get back on terms but still without any real belief in and around the pnalty area. Giovani did break a couple of challenges cutting in from the right hand side to smash a rising drive to Khune's near post but the keeper reacted well to turn the ball behind.

South Africa were threatening little themselves but Modise had one chance to double the lead only to shoot meekly at Perez and the hosts were then brought back down to earth as their ineptitude at set pieces finally caught up with them eleven minutes from time.

Mexico worked a short corner, none too convincingly, on the left which gave the South African defence time to push out of the box before the centre came over. Critically one man, Mokoena, stayed back which played three Mexicans onside and the last of these, Marquez, had all the time in the world, well eleven minutes to be precise, to bring Mexico level which he duly did with an uncomplicated finish from point blank range.

It now seemed certain that the game would end in a draw and so it did, but only after one heart stopping moment right at the end. Khune launched the ball downfield from his own six yard box and suddenly Katlego Mphela was running clear of the last two Mexican defenders. His charge took him to the edge of the six yard box but his left footed poke hit the outside of the near post with Perez stranded.

So Mexico ended with a draw from a game they should have won but tried to lose and South Africa happy with a draw, glad they didn't lose but gutted they didn't win. If you see what I mean.

All in all not a bad opener.

Full Time: South Africa 1 Mexico 1

South Africa Ratings: Khune 6, Gaxa 5, Mokoena 5, Thwala 4 (Masilela 5), Khumalo 5, Tshabalala 8, Pienaar 5, Modise 5, Letsholonyane 5, Dikgacoi 5, Katlego Mphela 5.

Mexico Ratings: Perez 5, Rodriguez 6, Salcido 6, Marquez 7, Osorio 6, Aguilar 7 (Guardado 5), Juarez 5, Torrado 6, Franco 4 (Hernandez 6), Vela 6 (Blanco 6), Giovani 7.

Referee: Ravshan Irmatov (Uzbekistan) 7
It seems strange that an Uzbekistani should get the opening game of the World Cup finals but Mr. Irmatov did okay in a game that was generally pretty easy to control. Top marks to the liner who spotted the offside on Vela's goal though.

Good: Siphiwe Tshabalala's finish was right out of the top drawer and into the top corner and I also liked his celebration. I'm sure it was an exact copy of FIVE's dance routine from Keep on Moving (the bit were they sing "Take a good look around") and I notice he wouldn't let it start until four of his colleagues had joined him. Nice.

Bad: South Africa's defending at set pieces and Franco's shocking attempts to punish it.

Ugly: Those ridiculous hooter things that are going to plague the World Cup. Don't call me a killjoy, imagine sitting there for two hours with eighty thousand of those things ringing in your ears.
That's the trouble with nouveau football supporters, in the old days fans used to tell you that you were going to get your fucking head kicked in but you generally didn't. Now the fans are obviously not going to kick your fucking head in but you go home feeling like they have done, all eighty thousand of them.


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