Canada, the boiled chicken of the woso world

Efficient if not a little boring: that’s been the story of Kenneth Heiner Møller’s tenure as Canada boss, and the Canucks’ first match in France was no different. Against a chaotic but passionate Cameroon team, the North Americans created but there was still no spark, no promise of more, just a bland piece of boiled chicken served on top of white rice.

Don’t get me wrong, I like chicken and rice, but not for every meal and, maybe throw in some seasoning? Add a bouquet garni… salt and pepper are your friend, Kenny.

There isn’t even a degree of irony in the fact that the bland way Canada have been playing has left me salty.

Not every team has a spicy Marta or herbaceous Marozsán or even a tall glass of cooling Greek yogurt (Lavelle) but it’s Canada; where are the cheese curds? Where’s the gravy? Where’s the steaming cup of freshly brewed Tim Hortons?

I shouldn’t even be mad because good defences win tournaments and if you don’t concede you can’t lose but for a team ranked #5 in the world... watching Canada is harder to digest than a week old Big Mac. Sure, I’ll still eat it but that’s partly because I hate myself, partly because I’m hungry.

90 minutes of Canada is like snacking on a bag of popcorn, it’s not sustaining, and you’ll be left trying to get the uncomfortable debris out of your teeth for a month. A team with Christine Sinclair in it should have most salivating especially when you factor in the goalscoring record [THE RECORD] but it’s an underripe strawberry: appealing at first but ultimately disappointing.

So, Kenny and the Canucks, go and see my friend Mrs. Dash about adding some flavour into your style – you don’t have to go mad and throw in a handful of ghost peppers but what about a pinch of salt? Deliver a dish that I want to chow down on, not this bland nonsense that does nothing to showcase the players you have at your disposal.