I love the World Cup. I remember Italia ’90 with Bobby Robson, Roger Milla and those little Coca-Cola footballs. I love the World Cup draw, so much so that I would usually do my own mock draw before the real one and then predict all the different results and decide who would win the World Cup in my world.
Maybe I’ve got a slightly better perspective on life, maybe not, but what a load of faff just for a few balls and a few excitable old men. I mean, is it really worth all the glitz and glamour and ceremony? Is it really sensible flying 1800 of the world’s media in to cover it all? Sport is wonderful for so many reasons but I think we allow it to loosen our grip on reality and what is important a bit too much sometimes.
And then you get all the middle aged men ‘back in the studio’ debating for hours whether England should fly straight into the Amazon from Miami or stick to the original hotel in Rio. And then they move onto whether it is better for us to actually finish second in the group so the climate in round two will be a bit better but then we might end up playing a stronger team. It really is ridiculous. I think we all know that the only factor that matters in deciding whether England will qualify for the second round or not is whether the players can actually be bothered or whether their egos remain the only thing bigger than their bank balances.
I am really going to enjoy the World Cup, I will be up at 2am in the morning cheering England on against the Azure. However, let’s please keep it all in perspective. It is only a game, and a pretty silly game at that.