Nurse the Hate: Hate The World Cup
If you would have told me three months ago that I would be
driving around listening to some Irish guys call a soccer game on the radio
between Algeria and Belgium, I would have said you were out of your mind. However, I was doing just that, white
knuckling a foolhardy wager I had made on Belgium to soundly defeat the “Desert
Rats” of Algeria. It is important to
note that I know almost nothing about futbol, and even less about these two
specific national squads. I do love
having some action going on in International Events played in the afternoon like
this though, where I can bet based on sound principals like beer preferences
and random prejudices.
Let’s take this game for example. I’m not even 100% positive where Algeria is
located, but I’m pretty sure it is really hot and dusty with lots of
Anti-American sentiment. Meanwhile the
good people of Belgium have given the world La Chouffe, Abbey Ales, French Fries,
and excellence in the art of the chocolatier.
Most of the people I have met in Belgium have been exceptionally nice,
and usually quirky in a fabulous way. I
picture them all gathered at some pub all jacked up on high alcohol ale
watching this match. Contrast that with
the fact I don’t know anyone from Algeria, and I think of kids in rubber
sandals throwing rocks at me (though I am pretty sure I am confusing Algeria
with Yemen). That’s right; I’m all in on
Belgium.
I couldn’t bring myself to bet on Mexico, who are sort of
the Chicago Cubs of international soccer.
I’m staring at their game vs Brazil right now, knowing full well like
everyone else on the planet that Mexico will lose in heartbreaking
fashion. I have always loved traveling
to Mexico. The people are warm, have an
unbelievable work ethic, and are about as libertarian as anyone in Belgium… though
you very seldom find a dozen headless drug cartel victims hanging from highway overpasses in
Belgium. In
Mexico people do what they want to do. I
like that. Fellow wagerers take
note: I have noticed in very careful
observation on my travels there that the Mexicans are not an athletic people. Two things that one will rarely see while
traveling in Mexico… 1) Mexicans
running. 2) Mexicans lifting weights.
These are for the most part a short hefty people. Success on the pitch is probably not easy for
players that are 5-4 and 210 pounds.
Their poor little legs can’t move that girth. How can they hope to run around with all
those tanned long legged Brazilians that do nothing but play soccer since
birth? Isn't Pele on that team? See? The key is to avoid the facts and embrace
flimsy stereotypes. Bam. I’m on Brazil.
I am mostly mystified by the game. I don’t understand most of the rules. I don’t understand what they are trying to
accomplish when they keep kicking it back to their goaltender. The biggest problem I have is regardless of
where a player is hit by another, he immediately grabs his face like acid was
thrown into it. A guy gets kicked in the
shin, and his hands go to his face with a “Holy Christ! My eyes!
My fucking eyes! I’m blind! I’m blind!”.
Then the trainers rush out and spray a mysterious chemical on his shin,
and he walks off like nothing happened.
Meanwhile when a guy really gets hurt, like that American that got
kicked in the face yesterday, it becomes immediately apparent what a real injury looks
like when compared to flop acting.
Nobody seems to mind though. It’s
like when a batter walks out of the batter’s box 100 times in at bat I suppose.
I also really like how this is an international event where
the US doesn’t just show up and destroy everyone else. This places me in a fan position I am
comfortable in thanks to living in Cleveland; being emotionally invested in a
team with almost no chance of winning the championship. There was probably no louder crowd than the
one at the bar I was at on Monday when the US beat Ghana. As NE Ohio fans, we all know that you have to
take your joy when it makes itself available.
Crushing defeat is lurking around the corner. Still, it was odd to be rejoicing like the
Indians won the pennant when our enormous country’s team beat a tiny African
nation that probably no one in the room could identify on a map (myself
included).
As this nationalistic pageant unfolds, I am struck by how
much better it is than the Olympics. The
Olympics were great when the USSR were the bad guys and we had someone to root
against. Now with my past travel and
petty prejudices, I finally have a reason to root against nations I otherwise
have no real beef with at all. What
could be better than seeing a nation of fans in a country that never crosses
your mind like Uruguay leaves a stadium in tears? Then, on top of that, be able to make a few
bucks by betting against them? Viva la
World Cup! When does that Russia v South
Korea match go off anyway?
1 Comments:
Come on Greg. You have been betting on football your whole life. Just the wrong football. Welcome to the club and it is only two ears until the European Championships kick off in France. The Euros is the World Cup, without Argentina and, er Brazil. Better beers. Better quality.
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