Thank God for the existence of Iker Casillas. The Spanish keeper, team captain, and Legolas-like wonderboy made the final bearable for me. Casillas made me think back to 2002, when this unusually young goalkeeper was having a brilliant World Cup showing and Germany were doing what they did again this year: making me tear my hair out in helpless rage. Football has a tendency to repeat itself.

One can’t hate Spain, though, I’ve decided. Sure, it’s theoretically possible, but why would one want to?

Even after Spain demolished my boys, the Russians, and proceeded to wipe the floor with my other boys, the Germans (and let’s not forget Spain’s 2006 World Cup defeat of my original home team, Ukraine, which could only have been more embarrassing if the Spanish players pantsed Andriy Shevchenko and proceeded to slap keeper Oleksandr Shovkovsky with his own gloves), I can’t help but be happy for them.

When does Spain, an essentially good team, ever win anything anyway? Read More »