(Mexico's human punching bag, Guillermo Ochoa)
Brazil had so many opportunities to score without doing so versus Mexico today that I became bored with the match.
Ochoa, the Mexican goalie, was brilliant, if you call having your face smashed repeatedly by the soccer ball from five feet brilliant.
Hey, Neymar, Fred, Oscar, the rest of you jokers--I have an idea for you. Use some cunning from here on out. Quit blasting the little round ball right at the goalie. It was pretty obvious to me that Ochoa's pain threshold was off the charts.
No matter how you battered and abused him, he kept coming back for more. Did you think he was going to flinch--in the World Cup?
Throw up his hands and cry, "No mas, Tio! No mas, por favor!"
Listen guys, I know it happens fast. The game is complex. I'm a futbol aficionado, have been since the first time I kicked the little round ball in P.E. back in 8th grade and scored against Donna Bean (my only score with her in a long career of caring).
Your speed and overall futbol expertise are wonderful. You're the best I've seen.
Use your damn brains next time. Move the ball a couple of feet either direction. Make the goalie work. Make him have to dive or otherwise show his cat-like reflexes.
Here's the awful truth, Brazil. For a bunch of idols you looked like crap out there today. You let a team with clearly inferior talent hang around.
Then, but for the sterling play of your own goalie, you almost let Mexico score late!
From here it looks like you guys are having a hard time. Perhaps fewer caipirinhas nightly and a little bed rest would do you good?
Oh, did I neglect to mention the score--0-0?
This has been the RBP World Cup Occasional Bog reporting, live from a feverish nightmare wherein I'm wearing Ochoa's shoes and definitely feeling the goalie's anxiety at the penalty kick.*