A Truly World Cup

 

I have been doing my best to follow the World Cup, now taking place in South Africa as I write. The ultimate soccer championship takes place every four years and is arguably the greatest tournament in the world.

Unlike the misnamed "World Series" - a tournament between teams only from the USA (with the occasional team from Canada, once every twenty years or so) – this festival of the world's best soccer teams is really incomparable to anything else. There may be some vague similarity between, say, the Stanley Cup play-offs, but it's a stretch. The only link I can make between these two events is that, at some given point, there are sixteen teams vying for the same goal – athletic glory.

I follow and understand hockey (I'm a Canadian, eh!); I do not follow and understand soccer. Well, I understand it a little, but I do not follow it. For example, in hockey, there is bumping and grinding and crashing; whereas in soccer – at least at the World Cup level – there seems to be a lot of standing around, with occasional outbursts of dashing hither and yon.

I say the above tongue in cheek, because I actually admire all the precise passing, the adroit footwork, and the gutsy headers. I tried that header stuff once in grade nine: The ball hit the side of my head instead, so I took up inter-varsity ping-pong the next year.

However, what I find most intriguing (a euphemism for "irritating") about soccer are the theatrics. Not the half-time show type of theatrics; not the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders type of theatrics; and certainly not the moronic touchdown victory dance type of theatrics.

No, these are the knee-in-the-groin-I'm-going-to-die theatrics. Oh, the pain! My, the writhing! What anguish! This is what we call an embellished reaction. That is, until the ref tells the actor, er, player, to get up, get going, or get out of the game, courtesy of a yellow card. Their instant recovery would make a faith healer blush.

In hockey, we call that diving, and there is a two minute penalty for that. Soccer's version of time in the "sin bin" should be as definite, if not harsher. It really cheapens the game and detracts from what I sincerely consider a great sport.

The other "however" is the strip tease show after each goal. Okay, okay, not total undress, but this goofy practice of taking off one's shirt, dashing madly to the sidelines, then sliding on one's knees, is just a little too much for me. Cartwheels, yes; maybe even a little can-can; but running like one has just won the lottery seems to be a waste of time, energy, and common sense.

As far as I know, Canada didn't quite make it to South Africa this year. I think they are about 152^nd in the world, somewhere between Iceland and Greenland. And I don't think there is any real shame in such a low standing. Canada is good at many things in the sports world, hockey being the most notable. I suggest we stick with what we're good at, and let the Brazils and Italys of the world play in the World Cup.

Now, if we could train them to keep their shirts on, we would have a world class act.