At last the Gods have put a dent in Raymond's road, and while the wagon he haphazardly drives is on the road, only one wheel is following orders and the mob out back is thinning as people jump before going over the embankment.
The final group game leaves France's destiny out of their hands as Mexico face fellow group leaders Uruguay, with both teams not eager to risk yellow cards and to rest key players. France will face a host eager to give their fans a reason to blow the vuvuzelas besides the noise appeal. Unless the other game ends in a rout (hardly likely given their collective form) and France rout the South Africans (even more unlikely), the French can pack their souvenir tartan rugs they wore on the bench and endure the long flight home. Coach Domenech (a tautology in itself) will be keen to see his family from the customs exit, not for warmth and comfort, but so he knows where the rotten tomatoes are coming from as his family get first in line.
Nothing about the French performance provided any hope. They were outplayed by a Mexican team confident to attack in numbers and defend likewise. Thierry played no hand in the debacle, and will no doubt first to shove his mouth at the microphone when the merde hits the fan. Zizou has already made his thoughts clear.
Expect the retribution to be more brutal than a liberal party election loss, even with the foreknowledge that Laurent Blanc will be taking the reigns the moment the final group game ends. Even if the French miraculously escape the group, all concerned will declare in protest that it is in spite of Domenech.
Karma est un chienne.
GP
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