CATCH THE FEVER...OR CATCH SOME Z’S by Chris Joseph There has been a virulent strain of World Cup Fever going around this summer, and fortunately, I was not afflicted. Admittedly, I had never watched a soccer match in my life until this year’s World Cup Final. My only exposure to the sport came when I signed up for it as a gym class in college. (I needed a phys ed credit to graduate, and the only other class available was something like Beginning Square Dancing for the Rhythmically Challenged.)
I didn’t like it very much, possibly because I spent every gym period lurching up and down the endless grass field, praying for oxygen and the intestinal fortitude to keep down the dozen Old Milwaukees I’d consumed the night before. But I’ve since come to realize that the real reason I’ve never enjoyed soccer is because of the chronic lack of action. There’s probably more scoring after a Saturday night dance down at the Senior Center. So, my expectations were not high when I tuned in to the title match between Italy and France. Right away, I figured the French team had no chance since the match was being played in Berlin. I kept waiting for them to surrender, begging the Germans to spare them from a Luftwaffe strafing. In a futile attempt to stay awake during the match, I somehow managed to record the following journal: 2 p.m. EST (Eastern Snoozing Time?) Unlike the typical American sporting event, the match actually starts on time! Not even the obligatory Cialis commercial. (Note to self: need to experiment to see if it really lasts 36 hours.) 2:01 Frenchman down! It’s Paris, 1940 all over again. A stretcher crew runs on the field to scrape up the victim. A referee jogs by holding a yellow card in the air, looking like he’s hailing a cab. Meanwhile, the clock continues to run. What, no commercial? 2:06 Goal! A hairless Frenchman scores on a penalty kick. One small kick for man...one giant leap for the bald man. 2:18 A goal by Italy ties the score. Could I be wrong about the lack of action? Me? Wrong? 2:22 The TV coverage switches to a crowd shot in Rome. There’s what looks like a bonfire burning in the background. I think I can see Nero playing a fiddle... 2:31 The cameras pick up a riveting action shot of a player tying his shoe...Where are the commercials? It feels like both teams are kicking my bladder. 2:47 Finally, halftime. Relief!...I wonder if there will be a Janet Jackson performance to liven things up. What this match needs is a nice, wholesome wardrobe malfunction. 3:14 Ten minutes into the second half, and nothing is happening. Eyelids getting heavy...drifting...drifting... 3:51 No, Angelina, don’t stop. I’ll still respect you...Ah, the dreams. I wake up to find the score is still 1-1, and there will be not one, but two overtime periods. I consider committing suicide by choking myself with a stack of Pringles. 4:17 In the second overtime, France’s captain head-butts an Italian player in the chest and is ejected. Now that’s more like it! I wonder if they’ll give him the guillotine when he gets home. 4:35 The second overtime is complete, and, surprise! It’s still 1-1. The teams now engage in a series of penalty shots, which apparently consists of the goalies always diving in the opposite direction that the ball is kicked. 4:41 It’s all over. Italy wins! Two questions: Is Rome burning? And, is there any way I can get 161 minutes of my life back?
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