Posted by Chris Jones
DURBAN, South Africa -- German coach Joachim Loew has announced that he'll once again be wearing his lucky sweater for Wednesday night's semifinal against Spain, the same smart-blue cashmere number that he wore during Germany's four-goal outbursts against Australia, England and Argentina. He's also announced that he won't have washed it. He is an international man of mystery.
Loew looks like the classic European coach, iron-crisp, often with a snappy scarf thrown over his shoulders. He has, perhaps, the most enviable head of hair in the world.
Yet this same man has been caught several times demonstrating questionable self-grooming practices. First, fans roared when he tucked his hand into his armpit on the sideline and then quite clearly sniffed it. And then, twice after, he was spotted mining his nose for Bundesliga and then eating it.
Now, he's airing his dirty laundry in public. "There's no way I'm changing my sweater, or even washing it," Loew said. "I am not really superstitious."
Once again, he's an enigma. Not washing a sweater because you believe that it brings you luck is pretty much the definition of superstitious.
But there's something endearing about Loew's quirks, too.
The Germans, as one of history's most dominant soccer teams, have a reputation for self-discipline, tactical intelligence and mechanical efficiency. But now they have a coach who won't wash his clothes lest he lose some mysterious mojo, and the entire country has been enraptured by something called Paul the Psychic Octopus, an apparently clairvoyant mollusk. Two national networks interrupted their programming Tuesday to watch Paul, horror of horrors, pick Spain to win Wednesday night. The national gasp that followed was pretty comical -- made all the more comical because it came from the normally sober-minded Germans.
On first glance, Loew seems to embody that old German stereotype -- everything in order, nothing left to chance. But his and his country's sudden reliance on faith and magic has made this German team seem more human than its predecessors -- as though the Germans possess a kind of scrappy, underdog spirit despite their precision passing and clinical finishing.
It's as if we've suddenly learned that the machine has a voodoo doll at its heart.
And that the suave-seeming man in charge is a 4-year-old boy at his.