I like to think I am a pretty open-minded girly. I don’t mind watching the odd game of football. I can appreciate that the World Cup is a fantastic event and the hype surrounding it is for the most part, understandable, but one week into the tournament and I am literally tearing my hair out.
I hate to sounds like a stereotypical, nagging, moaning female on her high horse but… (breathe) needs must.
First of all my television (yes I paid for all 42 inches of it) has been commandeered as if it is my other half’s God-given right to watch every single game of the World Cup. Dare I even suggest that there may be something on that I wish to watch, I am met with a glance that indicates I am possibly the worst-girlfriend-in-the-world-ever.
My lack of interest in the matches is not through want of trying to endure 90 mins of sweaty men on the pitch, but I, like so many others, simply can not bear the incessant noise of those blooming vuvuzelas – I was previously given into trouble from said boyfriend for calling them horns, idiot that I am.
I was however promptly informed with delight that clever producers are working on showing the games without the vuvuzelas sound. Oh joy.
Aside from the matches themselves, it seems that every blooming programme is World Cup themed. Even my beloved Come Dine with Me subjected us to a footballers’ special, putting me off my dinner with the sight of a naked Razor Ruddock. WAGs beware – that’s what they look like when they give up the game.
I am not completely dead to the passion surrounding the tournament. I love seeing the fans dressed up in their football colours, face paint and crazy wigs and I think the South African fans especially, are a joy to behold.
I quite enjoy immersing myself in the buzz of it all and it’s especially fun when you can soak up the atmosphere at the local tapas bar whilst Spain are playing or happen to be dating an Italian (previous World Cup) and can ogle the slightly more attractive men on the pitch (oooh feminists will love this) but, for the most part, I just don’t get the tears and the extremists who paint flags on their houses. Idiots.
WHERE'S ALL THE WAGS?
- WAGs fly out to rescue World Cup
- Coleen records Gell for Wayne - oh help
- Robbie Williams girl leaves him during World Cup
- Jong Tae-Se: World Cup cult hero
This brings me on to ‘hero’ Jong Tae-Se. My dear colleague Andrew Coyle wrote a ‘moving piece’ on the World Cup greeter that quite frankly brought a tear to my eye for all the wrong reasons.
Now I am all for a good heart-warming story. It’s nice that the young man was clearly delighted to be playing for his country and quite rightly so, but come on, it was hardly an excuse to blub like a big girl’s blouse in front of the world.
Even worse, why do a few tears in football ensure you go on to become a hero? Gazza, although a fine footballer in his day, has made a living out of those waterworks from Italia 90. You can almost see Walkers crisps drawing up the contract for Jong Tae-Se now.
Andrew kindly informs us that Jong is a hip-hop-loving, Hummer-driving, snowboarding, J-League star. All very macho off the park then, not sure what P-Diddy would make of his on-pitch blubbering antics.
Not taking anything away from this man’s football action. He clearly played very well but his gushing has lifted him to a new level of god-like status that somehow makes it ok for even the hardiest of males to unleash their softer side because it’s all in the name of the ‘beautiful game’. Pah! Pass the sick bucket.
Dearest Mr C completes his piece with an Oscar worthy paragraph about Jong Tae-Sa: “Tuesday’s display showed he has taken that passion onboard to an almost unbelievable degree and his efforts drew many a neutral over to the North Korea side against Brazil. If he fulfils his promise to score in the finals his story will have the kind of feel-good ending that attracts movie scriptwriters. Sad thing is, if his journey does get the Hollywood treatment, it will never be seen in the country that moves him to tears.”
Very moving and poignant. I am now awaiting today’s headline – Jong Tae-Se: The new Susan Boyle.
So it is with eager anticipation that I wait for the World Cup to be over. I will regain my television, my man and the male population in general will come out of this emotional, impassioned bubble where it’s ok to kiss, cuddle and cry with your mates in public. Now that’s worth blowing a vuvuzela for.
