Calaidescope World

Don't Talk to Me

I hate to see grown men cry. It makes me cry, too. And therein lies the beauty of football. REAL football, not "American football", where the ball is actually handled with your FEET, you run around for 90 minutes with 9 other guys who will do almost anything for the team (heck, for their country!) ,and the only protection you have against pain is a pair of shin guards and your talent that commands respect on the pitch. The players are human. The coaches are human. The fans are human. No one is afraid to show how they feel - happy, angry or sad - so openly. Bear hugging and kissing a teammate after scoring a hard-fought goal is nowhere near Brokeback Mountain.

But today continues to be a sad day. I'm likely to snap at anyone who so much as mentions the World Cup. Was it not enough that Argentina lost in a penalty shoot out, the worst possible way to settle a score? To say I am sorely disappointed with the Selecao is not enough. My blood is ashamed. Where was my team during the World Cup quarter finals? Where?! I can only imagine the kind of welcome the Brazilian football team will receive upon their arrival in Sao Paolo. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, actually.

But I've got to hand it to Zidane. He played a marvelous game. Les Bleus were all heart. Very South Korea in 2002. Am I routing for them now? I don't know. I think Germany is going to win this one...against Portugal. Wait...who said I was going to watch the finals? Do I even have a real reason to continue...?

Photo care of http://FIFAworldcup.com.

posted by Calai @ 11:20 AM