DORTMUND, Germany - Soap operas have nothing on Togo's bizarre World Cup melodrama.

Abandonment. Heartbreak. Threats. Reconciliation. Money squabbles. Even "I Will Survive," the anthem of scorned and bitter folks everywhere, blaring as the players trudged off the field.

"Turbulent? Yes. Extremely difficult is what I would say," on-again, off-again and, for now, on-again coach Otto Pfister said Monday after Team Turmoil was officially eliminated with a loss to Switzerland.

Togo had all the makings of one of those cute-and-cuddly stories that enchant international gatherings of sport. A World Cup newcomer, the tiny West African nation ¡ª it's no bigger than West Virginia ¡ª was such a runt it ranked last among the tournament's 32 teams.

Its people are poor, earning less than $400 a year growing coffee and yams, and few had either the money or the paperwork to come watch their team in person. Aside from their diamond earrings, the players have about as much in common with Ronaldo and David Beckham as 8 year olds who play in the park. Only one, Arsenal's Emmanuel Adebayor, is in a big-time league. Most are buried deep in Europe's weaker divisions, if they're there at all.

Best of all, the Sparrow Hawks came complete with a witch doctor, a genuine Voodoo chief fetish priest. What about this team wasn't there to love?

As it turned out, just about everything.

"I think we helped save some of Togo's honor," forward Mohamed Kader said after Monday's game. "Even just to be at the World Cup was a victory."

But it came at a mighty steep price. The team heads back home after Friday's game against France, the butt of endless "Togo or Not To Go" jokes.

"It's not for me to say if they drew any lessons," said Pfister who was brought in to coach the team in March after Nigerian Stephen Keshi was fired. "The future will tell us."

Togo's first trip to the World Cup should have been good for months of partying. But that old villain, money, got in the way ¡ª and the trouble began almost as soon as the Sparrow Hawks qualified last fall.

Each team gets $5.7 million from FIFA for playing in the World Cup, and the players thought they deserved a portion. Their demand: $200,000 each, plus $39,000 per win and $20,000 per tie. The national soccer federation stalled, saying it couldn't pay such exorbitant rewards, and the soap opera was off and running.

The players and federation were still haggling when the team arrived in Germany. Some days the team would practice. Some days it wouldn't, a protest in the ongoing dispute. The prime minister even flew in to try, unsuccessfully, to broker a deal.

After a month, Pfister had enough. Three days before Togo opened against South Korea, the veteran coach walked out of camp.

"You start with the people you're sending to the World Cup all having a defined role, and all are willing to work 24 hours a day for the team," Pfister said Monday. "Then you might have a chance."

Pfister returned in time for the first game, but it's been an uneasy truce.

He threatened to sue a senior Togolese federation official, who accused the coach of being a drunkard and a traitor. He says he doesn't drink. And with the pay dispute still raging, there was no telling whether he might storm away again.

Turns out, Pfister wasn't the one to bolt.

A day after saying they would play for the honor of their country and families, the players threatened Sunday to boycott Monday's game against Switzerland. No team has ever boycotted a first-round match, but the Sparrow Hawks knew any leverage they had would disappear with their elimination.

FIFA stepped in, threatening repercussions and promising to guarantee the payments. Togo would play ¡ª only to be eliminated with the 2-0 loss to Switzerland.

Being the overwhelming outsider couldn't have helped. Teams can usually count on their fans taking over a corner of the stadium, but few Togo supporters made it to Germany.

There were several pockets of fans, including a group wearing crowns and banging on drums, and some Europeans and Americans adopted Togo. A group of Germany fans with Togo flags tied around their necks bopped around before the game chanting "To-go! To-go!"

One man in a Brazil jersey had covered "Brazil" with "Togo." And some Americans were decked out in Togo gear, having snatched up the last T-shirts at a shop outside the stadium.

"I'm neutral," said Thomas Austria, a German who wore a Swiss T-shirt and a Togo baseball cap. "I'm from Germany and I'm here with my friend from Switzerland. But I also wanted to show welcome to the people from Togo."

Forget the welcome wagon. A truckload of cash, and this whole debacle could have been avoided.

"We will get it in the coming days," midfielder Alaixys Romao said Monday. "Before the end of the tournament."

In other words, stay tuned.