The World Cup runneth over – with hype!
11/06/2010

So, are you ready for a summer of pagan face painting, primitive tribalism, public drunkenness, breast-beating tragedy and triumphalism? Yes, Wimbledon is with us once again. OK, just joking. I was referring, of course, to the World Cup, but just in passing whatever happened to Wimbledon?  Like everything else it looks like being trampled underfoot by the mad rush to attend the South African event, live or on the box.

As former Liverpool manager Bill Shankly famously said “Some people think football is a matter of life and death. I don’t like that attitude. I can assure them it is more important than that”.

Well, if you’re serious about trivia, he’s probably right. I mean, it’s all so inconsequential. I could put up with it if it wasn’t so relentless. All that wild speculation before the game and the bitter recrimination afterward, the endless agonising regurgitation of every tedious feint and tackle, re-enacted in the pub, at the water cooler, and over the garden gate.

Looking on the bright side, the 90 minutes when a match is actually in play is an interlude of heavenly peace. Go out on the streets and listen to the rare sound of silence: they haven’t been so deserted since the funeral of Princess Diana. Britain is momentarily returned to a 1930’s idyll of quiet country lanes and bird song, the roar of traffic replaced by the scamper of live hedgehogs.

Having said that, I must admit to a sneaking admiration for that guy in the Alpha Romeo commercial who steals away from the rest of the crowd watching the England v Italy match in a smart Roman bar. He backs his Alpha out of the garage and takes it on a full throttle racing circuit around the deserted streets of Rome. Now that’s what I call sport!

The Trickster – “The grumpy old man of advertising”