World Cup Diary 3 July: When the favourite becomes the underdog

World Cup Diary / Dave Farrar / 03 July 2010 / Leave a comment Free £25 Bet

It would have been a first for an African side to reach the semis but Uruguay haven't had much to cheer about either for the last half a century or so

Dave Farrar tells us why it wasn't just money that made him side with Uruguay last night and how despite being a Holland fan for much of his life, he doesn't want this class of 2010 to come out on top...

"The romantics may think that Ghana were the only team for them on Friday, but take a nation of three million people, and one which has been weighed down for forty years by the burden of past successes, and put them into a completely unexpected World Cup semi final, and there’s romance enough."

I feel like the most unpopular man in Johannesburg. The whole of Africa, and it seems, the whole of the world outside Montevideo, wanted Ghana to become the first African team to reach a World Cup semi final. And there I was, on Friday night at Soccer City, cheering on Uruguay for all I was worth. I was definitely the only person in my section of the ground who was doing so, and my loud, double fist-pumping celebration of Diego Forlan's equalizer didn't go down overly well with the vuvuzela blowers all around me. Maybe I should explain myself.

Firstly, there's money. I'd backed Uruguay at [20.0] to reach the semi final, and at [130.0] to win the World Cup. I always felt that a team which was rock solid at the back and which contained Diego Forlan and Luis Suarez shouldn't be that price, and I guess that I was right, although my joy at Uruguay's win isn't about gloating or being a smartarse after the event, I'll leave that to those of you who revel in that sort of thing.

I was sat behind the goal into which Sebastien Abreu, a man who'd spent the previous hour leading the forward line about as effectively as Vanessa Paradis, chipped the winning penalty. It was audacious, unbearably cocky, and quite brilliantly done. The spirit of Antonin Panenka was alive and well in that split second, the impish soul of the man with the Zapata moustache transported to the mind of an awkward, rather effete, and utterly insane South American. The man who I first saw playing for San Lorenzo ten years ago, the man that they've always called "El Loco", had made the most of his moment in the sun.

Most of you watching at home probably saw Ghana as the underdogs, and I can understand why. The desire to see an African team in a World Cup semi final, and for the most downtrodden continent to have something to smile about, is perfectly justified, and far more right thinking than my standpoint. Inside the stadium, though, it was the Uruguayans who were being booed, who were having every yellow card cheered by a partisan crowd. And as I looked down at their magnificent fans, I realized that it was they who were the ones on the outside looking in, they were the gatecrashers that nobody wanted to win. And so, putting the money to one side, they were the team that needed supporting.

The noise was remarkable. There must have been two thousand supporters in pale blue against 82,000 with black stars painted on their faces, and yet when the ball hit the bar and the bubble burst, the level went from cacophony to pin drop in the flicker of a heartbeat. It was the first time in 120 minutes that you'd heard the Uruguayan fans: and they couldn't believe their luck. I spoke to a gang of them outside, and, wrong though it may sound, they truly believe that their name is on the trophy. It's been such an odd World Cup that I won't be the one to tell them that they're wrong. The romantics may think that Ghana were the only team for them on Friday, but take a nation of three million people, and one which has been weighed down for forty years by the burden of past successes, and put them into a completely unexpected World Cup semi final, and there's romance enough.

Of course, they'll probably lose to Holland. Although, if I was going to pick an underdog to shock the Dutch, then it would be Uruguay. There won't be much space around for Wesley Sneijder and Arjen Robben, and their weakness in the centre of defence could be exposed by the second best striker at this tournament, Diego Forlan.

And while I've wanted nothing more in my sporting lifetime than to see Holland win a World Cup, I don't want it to be this Oranje generation. Sneijder is a throwback to 1974, as is Gregory Van Der Wiel. But Robben is a cheat, and Mark Van Bommel a thug. This team doesn't represent the qualities that I fell in love with as a boy, and so I'll wait for an ageing Sneijder to lead the next generation in eight years time. I hope, really hope, that Uruguay finish them off, and I'm off to buy a blue and white flag to hang from my window.

Whatever happens, we're in for an historic final. It could be 1978 all over again, it could be Spain against Holland, or a Rudi Voller/Frank Rijkaard reunion game. And Paraguay aren't finished yet. But next Sunday I want to watch the battle of the River Plate in Soccer City, Diego against Diego, and may the best team win what has ultimately been not an African, but a uniquely South American World Cup.

Tags: Daniel Agger, Diego Forlan, Ghana players, Sebastien Abreu, Uruguay fans, Uruguay football team