Euphoria for Spain

They had their doubters, their skeptics. And rightfully so.

On the outset, they arrived as favourites. The giants that every other team would need the match of their lives to knock off.

But an early-tournament hiccup against lowly Switzerland in their first match of the World Cup finals, a 1-0 loss, instilled a nervous skepticism, rich with historic evidence to support the thesis that Spain's dream to stay atop Cloud Nine of the football world, has ended.

No team has ever lost their first match and recuperated in time to win the most popular tournament in the world. But the men in red, yellow and blue proved that if anyone could break tradition, it was them.

Fresh off a 2008 European Soccer Championship, Spain proved to the world they were the best of their continent. In June, they were determined to expand that modest title to include the rest of the football-crazed globe.

Now, Spain's 1-0 Extra-time victory over the Netherlands in the World Cup final has given a nation it's dream come true when the collective country had been battling one nightmare after the other for the past few months.

If a country ever needed a blissful and euphoric interruption to the recent harsh realities of the global economic recession, this was it. Extreme national debt levels, rising retirement levels, immense austerity measures to combat a failing domestic financial system, and massive bailouts by the European Union has hindered the Spanish populous from any kind of exuberance. But like Canada's quest in the 2010 Olympic Winter Games, Spain found their pride through trial, a slow start, and a momentum that may in fact guide the country out of some of its troubles.

Midfielder Andres Iniesta played hero of the day, and in doing so, etched his name into his nation's immortal collective conscious after his impeccably timed strike with just over 5 minutes of play remaining in the extra frame.

His strike reduced his own goalkeeper, Iker Casillas, probably the greatest goaltender in the world currently, to his knees and to tears as he watched his teammate lift Spain to glory.

It capped off a chippy affair in what was expected to be the beautiful game at its best. Two teams, brimming with skill, speed and wits, who didn't need the oft-overused tactic of writhing in pain after a brush with an opponent. Spain were known for their remarkable skill in precision passing. For Holland, it was their adaptability; their indescribable knack for scratching out the victory, even against insurmountable odds.

Instead, 84,000 at Soccer City, Johannesburg witnessed a match that took on a life of its own. The skill was there, but often bookended with confrontations between the players involving high kicks to the chest, knee stomping, and shin kicking. Nothing new for a sport barred from hand use, but in a World Cup final with so much at stake, the amount of player cautions, warnings, and bookings was unheard of. Countless yellow cards were handed out by English referee Howard Webb, and one red, issued to the Netherlands' John Heitinga.

The stars were noticeably absent, or failed to produce anything of substance when the world was watching.

David Villa, the tournament's co-leader in goals with five, shot wide in most of the chances he garnered. Ditto for Holland's Arjen Robben who possessed numerous breakaways and failed to pot the relatively easy strikes the world is so used to seeing from the talented Dutchman. Robben had more time and space than he could ever ask for on multiple occasions, but was stifled by his own inability to finish, or brilliant goalkeeping by Casillas.

Spain's championship marked an iconic finale to a World Cup highlighted as much by what was transpiring off the field as much as on.

Questions surrounding South Africa's performance and ability to host such a prestigious event were silenced and their hosting duties went off without incident. Nelson Mandela's appearance on the final day of the tournament revived a nation, desperate to showcase their emotional former president to the world, and rightly so. Issues raised included either lax (a striking stadium staff) or overbearing security that arrested and imprisoned those that committed what would be considered minor offences in North America. Chinese journalists had their equipment stolen early on in the tournament, and protests that tickets were overpriced for the average South African were evident, but South Africa's third highest attendance record for World Cup action, made the case that accessibility was not an issue.

Vuvuzelas became the hallmark poster-item for South African spirit, and the bee-buzzing racket was originally protested by those watching on TV, but the opposed reluctantly held silent, after seeing what kind of a cultural icon and tradition the noisemakers had become.

Temper tantrums and on-field fighting felled the French team into national disgrace status after disputes between the coaching staff and players affected their play and ultimately their tournament. The French program is now in shambles and in desperate need of proper leadership.

The Italians, English, and Brazilians failed to live up to lofty expectations, with the defending World Cup champion Italians not even making it past the qualifying Group stages, and the English suffering an embarassing 4-1 defeat to the Germans. The English press had a field day with World War II references during their confrontation in the quarter-final. Brazilians' hearts were broken with an incredible early exit in the quater finals versus the Netherlands.

Other highlights included mounting criticism from the world and especially North American audiences over the non-use of video replay to determine valid goals or non-goal calls. Every other professional sport in the world has enacted the technology. FIFA's refusal to do so over its argument that it takes the "human element" away from the game is not a valid counterpoint in the 21st century anymore.

Despite these distractions, upsets and unpredictability, casting at times a very dark cloud over the world's beauiful game, it was the Spaniards who found their moment to rejoice they had desperately been seeking on the world stage. The Netherlands meanwhile, have cemented their status as a future contender, mentioned in the same breath as Argentina, Brazil, Germany, and Spain in the upper-echelons of soccer supremacy.

Casillas' tears have signified a reversal of trends, and his tears of joy will now willingly replace those of sorrow for Spain.

While it is up in the air where the economic fortunes of the country may lie in the near future, Spain will prosper on top of the football world for the next four years to come.

If boys on the pitch can teach a thing or two about clutch performances to the nation's parliamentary syndicate, Spain will again be in fine form come 2014.

I Sense a Trend...

It seems like the G20 world leaders aren't the only ones to come to Toronto, stay for the pleasantries and promptly make their hasty exit just as things around them are turning sour. Chris Bosh, the Toronto Raptors franchise leader in points, and for all intents and purposes the face of the club, has skipped town to surf the beaches of Miami with the Heat, just as things have turned ugly.

It punctuates a disturbing trend in the town of T.O. that has seen three marquee and all-world talents leave their respective sporting clubs to join greener pastures elsewhere.

Let's go back to Christmas, 2008. The Vancouver Canucks awoke to find Mats Sundin, nestled in their stocking all ready and primed to win Stanley's mug with his new team, fresh off of rejecting to renew his contract with the Toronto Maple Leafs. Few could have ever pictured the big Swede in any other colours except the blue and white (save for the earlier hockey purists who remember the captain in a Nordiques jersey... newer Leafs fans couldn't tell you what a Nordique is).

In a move that Sundin said (now read carefully, this part's important), was based purely on winning and not cashing in any lucrative contracts, he felt he had a much greater shot at Lord Stanley's Cup in Vancouver than in Toronto, where he served as captain for 11 years. There isn't much disputing evidence to the contrary where Toronto fans are concerned.

No, the Swedish captain; long the fan favourite and consistent point producer for a Toronto team that at times showed promise (2002 conference finals), finally wanted out. He left as a legend to fans, but never could bring that elusive Cup to the city that has painfully been deprived of an NHL championship for 43 years and counting.

Next up, enter Roy Halladay. At one time, maybe even still today, you can't mention the Toronto Blue Jays without thinking of 'The Doctor'. It seemed that Doc had a cure for all the Jays' ailments when he took to the mound every five games. What he couldn't cure however was managerial incompetency that produced mediocrity in a division where mediocrity will never even be close to good enough. The Yankees, Red Sox, and now the Tampa Bay Rays all lay claim to the American League East's top spots.

Halladay didn't see a future that included a World Series title in Toronto and split for Philadelphia, a team fresh off of two straight World Series finals appearances, including one championship. He didn't leave for the bucks. He left to win.

And just like that, make it two franchise players in a span of 1.5 years to make their marks, mark their careers in T.O., and then leave the city in their wake.

The Raptors must have been watching. How could they not? The lesson was; in order to keep your pivotal players in town, you need to prove to them that you are committed to winning. Leafs GM, John Ferguson Jr. couldn't do it with Sundin. Jays Manager, J.P. Ricciardi failed to show Halladay that drive to win at all costs, even in a murderous division. Now, add Raptors GM Bryan Colangelo to that unfortunate list of losers.

Bosh is gone, and like the Blue Jays' dismal attendance record this year shows, if fans can't see an All-Star play on their team, day in and day out, why bother showing up? What's the incentive to go to a Raps game now? To see their next best player, a disgruntled Turk, Hedo Turkoglu, who in his home country told journalists (and not management) that he was wronged last year and wants out? That'll sell tickets.

So what does all this mean?

Unfortunately, the future looks very grim in terms of recruiting players to Toronto. What will Colangelo's offer pitches to prospective players look like now? Hey (insert NBA All-Star here), I know Chris just left cuz' he felt we were going nowhere, and our prized free agent signing of last year has given up after one season, but how 'bout YOU take a gamble?

Not going to fly. It will be many years before the Raptors will look like a team on players' radar to win big, and that's assuming the boys in charge don't pull any gaffes.

The good news is, the seemingly poisonous management that has plagued the city's big three franchises have all been kicked out the door. Ferguson and Ricciardi are gone, replaced by (so far) competent personnel who look like they have a plan in place.

If Colangelo treads cautiously and patiently (because the only way this Raptors team can be rebuilt properly is through successful consecutive annual entry drafts), he can manoeuvre his way out of perhaps the biggest devastation to hit the Raps in their 15-year history and build a contender in the next 4-5 years.

It's not what fans want to hear, and they may stay away in the near future because of it, but in time, with a successful drafting and developing record, they will eventually come back.

Perhaps then, they won't see their stars shoot out of town for a brighter future.

A Changing of the Guard?

It probably couldn't happen on a more fitting stage. And when self-contained, the event may not look all that extraordinary, but when judged and deemed on a grander scale, the evidence crystallizes itself that much more.

Roger Federer, maybe the most beloved Swiss adornment since fine chocolate may perhaps be slowing down. It might seem blasphemous to those who follow the strangely enticing and hypnotic sport of tennis on a yearly basis, but the signs are conspicuous now more than ever, and show up more frequently and at a much higher, and alarming rate.

His early exit at the All-England Club in Wimbledon this past week (a quarterfinal meltdown to 21st-ranked Czech Tomas Berdych) serves notice to the world that the Roger Federer of old, as well as his dominant, merciless, and stylistically enchanting style of play may be dissipating, much to the chagrin of his legion of followers and fans worldwide.

To add poetic rhetoric to the tale, a young Spaniard who is just hitting the prime of his career is taking up residence in the throne that has been held by the Swiss master for the past seven years.

Rafael Nadal, or 'Rafa' as he has come to be familiarized to the world as, defeated Berdych and took London's most fabled prize at Wimbledon on Sunday, and while that may be nothing new to those who know his overpowering style of play and constantly agressive tactics on the court, the 24-year old may as well make himself comfortable in that coveted number-1 position as ranked by ATP World Tour rankings. It seems more and more unlikely that Federer may never reach that threshold of dominance again.

The declining trend started months ago, and while pinpointing the genesis of the greatest tennis player of all time's descent into- not mediocrity, but certainly not the commanding style of play that we're used to seeing from the Swiss great, may be difficult, the DNA evidence doesn't need the CSI folk to trace.

The 28-year old, who celebrates his 29th on August 8, lost to Robin Soderling, the 5th-ranked Swede in the French Open quarterfinals last month (while fittingly, Nadal would win that title as well), and while winning the Australian Open this past year, has seemed to struggle at times in matches he was picked by pundits to be the clear favourite in.

Accompanying his meteoric rise to grace has been his trademark modesty and patience with the media, always playing down his historic and record-breaking accomplishments that until now, have seemed to come regularly. Federer seems to have bucked that trend as well, complaining in his post-match interviews about the newest injury that hampered his chances of winning the match that got away from him. From hamstrings to thyroids, journalists may need a medical dictionary if he keeps breaking out new injury updates.

This of course downplays his opponents' achievements in beating Federer, and makes the once-modest Swiss master seem more like an excuse-hungry amateur, looking for a back-door way out of the losses he's gathered.

Of course, it may just be a slump he's in. A rough patch in his ever-winding road to the 'greatest tennis player of all time' status. But mix his recent shortcomings with his 29-year old frame, add a crop of rising tennis stars lurking in the weeds and throw in the rise of 'Rafa', and you may just have the recipe for the beginning of the end for Federer.