The World Cup Beckons
I despise football. I really do. It’s everything it stands for – the appalling, vulgar display of tasteless, oafish, dare I say “chav” behaviour. It’s a thin, insubstantial sport populated by overpaid primadonnas who behave appallingly and set a terrible example to youth.
What a pompous old git I am!
It’s a completely different thing isn’t it when it gets infused with the spirit of international competition?
It’ll never be rugby though, so those that want to see the original, totally uplifting South African story go to the 1995 Rugby World Cup finals. That was a similar occasion but with a proper sport. In fact, go to Invictus, the absolutely fantastic movie which tells the whole story.
I have been taken up by it though. Africa has a wonderful exuberance and I was caught by the romance of the first match, delighted that South Africa managed a draw. Then, who could resist a chance to see the French go down? And go down they did! Well, they scraped a draw against a 10 man Uruguay side when they were the favourites. Lovely to watch!
So it looks like I’m hooked in. There’s nothing else on anyway. It’s been a welcome relief from the tribes of harridan, conspiracy-obsessed bloggers in the US. As a Brit, a Welshman living in England, I am grateful to live in a country which has a sense of perspective. We are not of Europe. We are certainly not of either the Middle or Far East. Thank God we’ve got more history than the Americans. This is still the land of the free. Nowhere else comes close.
And tomorrow Barack Obama is going to find out whose arse is “gonna get kicked”. Then maybe he’ll mind his manners and remember who his friends are.