The photo to the left of two passionate supporters of Sweden's World Cup soccer team is all you need to know about why the US will never take the Cup as seriously as the rest of the planet. We simply can't meet this standard of devotion.
Not that I care. I honestly don’t care. I’m sick and tired of being told that I should care because Botswana, the Ukraine and Honduras care. If they want a world soccer championship so bad that it causes hometown women so cavort shamelessly then hey, cool. More power to them. But that doesn’t mean I have to care.
Soccer to me is bunch of guys kicking a ball and kicking a ball and kicking a ball until someone finally scores. It’s like hockey in that whenever anyone does score it’s so surprising that the announcer has a stroke, the players react with stunned disbelief and any player who does it more than three times gets nominated for sainthood in any Catholic country.
It's dull. Extremely dull. And unlike the Swedes and Brazilians, we'll never have the kind of fans who could make it a heckuva lot more interesting. Even the Poles know how to play. Their hooligans wanted to organize a World Cup ass-kicking tournament, my thug vs. yours, and make the best set of brass knuckles win.
Soccer looks like a sport which is a heckuva lot more fun to play than watch. I’ve had friends who play on the weekend and come in on Monday looking like they’ve gone to the mat with a horny mountain goat. But for me, yawn.
I write this as a local Sacramento sports writer goes on record against a local station choosing to honor its contract with the WNBA champion Sacramento Monarchs over the US vs. Italy game at the same time. Chill, the station says, we’ll run the game on tape delay after the Monarchs game. Horrors, says the writer. This is World Cup soccer and you’re letting lady basketball players trump ‘em?
Yes, because there are still probably more people around here who would rather watch ladies dribbling than Eyeties embarrassing Americans in a game few Americans really care about. Welcome to the real world of sports marketing, dude.
It’s not that I’ve never been exposed to soccer. I grew up near San Francisco’s Balboa Soccer Stadium, where marvelously named teams like the Hibernians and Sons of Italy took on Guadalajara and the Arab Americans. You could tell who played who after each game by the bottles left behind. Rose and Dos Equis meant the Sons vs. Guadalajara. Soccer was offered during gym class. But as a spectator sport I’d rather watch lacrosse. And I really don’t like lacrosse either.
So World, have your Cup. Enjoy your festive womenfolk. Party on like it’s 2099.
Just don’t bother me with it. I’m waiting for the Giants vs. Tigers in the 2006 World Series.
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