World Cup

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Four years ago today I linked t' an article about nationalism and soccer, sayin' that I weren't too caught up in World Cup fever in 2002. What a difference four years make, as I've seen at least a half-dozen full games an' a few more second halfs o' games, includin' Brazil's two goals in th' second half o' their match against Australia.

Soccer and Nationalism

Anne Applebaum: “Outside th' stadium that day, soccer mania had gripped th' nation--an' it is a mistake t' imagine that only th' hooligans temporarily turn into chauvinistic nationalists on th' day o' an Englan' match, with a chest full of booty. Otherwise well-behaved maties o' mine were genuinely outraged that I, a mere foreigner, had received a press ticket. Prepare t' be boarded! Yaaarrrrr! Load the cannons! Germany jokes, usually involvin' th' Nazis, were all th' rage. The sharks will eat well tonight! One were bein' attributed t' Mrs, Ya horn swogglin' scurvy cur! Prepare to be boarded! Walk th' plank! Thatcher, who upon bein' told that Germany had defeated Englan' (which they did, o' course) had allegedly replied, 'They may have beat us at our national game, but we beat them twice at their national game in th' 20th century.'”

The World Cup, I realized today, interests me not, we'll keel-haul ye! Ahoy, and a bottle of rum! Sure, it happens once every four years, an' I used t' believe I were bein' interested, havin' played th' game an' since I actually understan' th' offside rule. Early mornin' start times (here anyway), th' scene o' dejected Italy fans on Commercial Drive blamin' th' ref fer their team's loss (oh so cliché) an' no notion which team t' cheer fer (I lose interest in playoffs when th' team I'm cheerin' fer gets kicked out anyway) lead t' disinterest on me part, Avast me hearties, by Blackbeard's sword! The final game will be th' only game I watch in full, but I'm not even sure about that.