Why I Love Copenhagen and Hate Spain

Over the last several days, I've come to love Copenhagen and am increasingly glad that we decided to spend a full week here at the end of the trip. The weather has just been spectacular, which has made it all the easier to get out and appreciate the city's spectacular waterfront. I've walked all along the canals and harborfront, taken a canal cruise boat and admired the magnificent architecture from the waterways, and even been out in a kayak with my good friend and generous host Thomas Emil Jensen to get a more intimate experience of the Copenhagen waterways. It really is an amazing place. An interview with a local featured in my guidebook emphasized that to appreciate Copenhagen, one needs to spend as much time along the waterfront as possible, and I'd have to say that I agree.

One of our favorite ways to spend time in Copenhagen thus far is to get out and watch the World Cup matches at an outdoor venue right on the harbor, sponsored by the national sports television network. The venue, situated at a place called Ofelia Beach, is located adjacent to the national theater and directly across the water from the practically brand new Opera House, which is at least as beautiful (if not more), as its counterpart in Oslo. We've spent the last two nights out at Ofelia Beach, watching the evening (European time) matches between Brazil and Chile and then Spain and Portugal last night. The crowds have been fantastic and energetic and it's provided some of the best people watching opportunities of our trip thus far. It was especially packed last night for a highly anticipated match between Spain and Portugal, which was something of an Iberian grudge match.

Which brings me to the second half of the title for this particular post. Last night was the second time we have watched Spain play during this World Cup and both times I have been left with the distinct impression that this is a team almost entirely comprised of conniving pretty boys who would curl up in the fetal position if they were ever presented with a truly physical challenge. In the first game that we watched in Oslo Spain was playing Chile in a group play match. One player, Ramos, twice drew my attention for his flagrant histrionics and overall dishonesty. The first instance involved a play where he actually kicked the goalkeeper in the mouth and then acted as if he had been viciously fouled. In the second instance he took a dive, once again acting as if someone had ripped his achilles tendon from the bone when no one had been within a foot of him.

Last night's match featured more of the same from Ramos and the majority of his compatriots. The last straw, for me, came in the closing minutes of the match. Portugal was down 1-0 and appeared to be knocking at the door. Seemingly out of nowhere, the referee sent a Portuguese defender off with a red card, leaving them down a man for the final three minutes. The replay shown on television showed that the play was a total dive and there was no contact made between the two players whatsoever.

In these last two games the Spanish team has demonstrated the worst of what I have come to know about the game of soccer over the years - namely that the best teams in the world succeed not on talent alone but by their ability and willingness to be blatantly dishonest on the field of play. This is not to say that there isn't regular dishonesty in sports. There is near universal agreement that doping and the throwing of games is wrong. In the sport of golf, it is a cultural norm to call penalties on one's self and players who fail to do so are generally shunned. There is always an interesting debate to be had about whether one has the obligation to notify a referee if one has benefited from a bad call and knows it. I've personally debated that with friends, coaches and teammates for most of my sporting life.

But it seems to me that a distinction needs to be made between benefiting from bad calls that are inadvertent and those that are drawn by premeditated deceit on the part of the player. Basketball has a long history of players who were considered "floppers," by essentially acting as if they had drawn contact when there was none. There's no doubt that it works from time to time, but again, there is a prevailing cultural norm that goes against such behavior and rarely to players consistently and substantially benefit from flopping. The same is not true in soccer. It seems that those teams that are the best actors, and who do so consistently, are those who are the most consistently successful on the world stage. This should be an embarrassment to the game and its organizers. Lip service is paid to the efforts of soccer's international governing body to clamp down on flopping, but it seems obvious that it's been completely ineffectual.

Teams like Spain are the reason why I can't take soccer seriously as a sport and why I will continue to pay attention only once every four years. They give credence to those who assert that it shouldn't even be considered a sport. And that's all I have to say about that.