Football fever is here! The FIFA World Cup in Germany, I mean, the four-yearly kick-fest, full of jingoism and male chauvinism. Man, the aggression, the tension, the pride – they are so tense some don’t sing their national anthems – the cheering, the color, the painted faces, the ultimate expression of man’s need for letting out their pent up joys and frustrations. A cruel sport, have patience, I will come to the cruel part.
So the swearing takes place in front of cameras, the medieval jousts are fought in front of an audience of billions from a 191 countries around the world. I presume, because there as many countries that are members of the United Nations.
Now, ahem, about the cruelty party. Have you seen the players staring murderously at each other, tearing each other’s team jerseys, murderously tackling each other? And some of them are taken out in stretchers. And these are the guys that play for the same teams in other competitions elsewhere. Like, like, well, I don’t know. Beckham made polite conversation with the Trinidad and Tobago player he plays with though they were competing murderously yesterday. But Beckham is a civil guy, nodding all the time, like an elder stateman to the lesser mortals who can’t control their flabby mouths.
In my day and age we played football and we didn’t tear at each other’s jerseys. And we didn’t need yellow cards. [Note: The writer played soccer for his college, though, was only a substitute player.] Makes me wonder if it is a sport anymore. Duh, I am growing old!
FIFA World Cup|David Beckham|United Nations|Trindad Tobago
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