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World Cup Blog | Bruce Crumley

For Fans, Now Comes The Hard Bit


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Posted Wednesday, June 28, 2006; 10.41BST
Come in. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable as possible, because this isn't going to be pleasant.

This entry represents a textual version of the American social institution known as "intervention". For those of you not familiar with the act, "intervention" is a form of collective behavior excess whose function is decrying
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individual behavior excess. A person finds himself among loving family members, dear friends, and concerned colleagues who force the summoned party to face and correct his self-destructive abandon to abuse or addiction, or run the risk of indefinite disqualification from playing any reindeer games.

Since no readers of this blog would have any of those (ie. intimates who care about them, not the excesses), I've decided stand in as a proxy, one-man quorum who will carp and moan until you to wake up and smell the hard-love coffee (unless one of your addictions happens to be caffeine in which case you'll have to find some other blogging geek to read). For the rest of you, get ready to ache.

You think you feel all right, don't you? Getting along just fine; doing your job, functioning normally, eating lots of fiber and flossing after every meal. Well, you're not fine, and the reality of that is about to hit you harder than a Mark van Bommel face-level tackle. Because today, June 28, is the first day in nearly three weeks that no World Cup matches will be played. Not three, not two, not one.

And there won't be any tomorrow, either. Kickoff time for the next game on the 30th, meanwhile, is 5pm central European time — meaning you've got three full days of soccer-less time to kill before you get your next fix. I can hear your sweat popping and eyes darting from here. Face it: you're a footbaholic.

Oh yeah, sure — you're saying "no, not me. I just watch casually. I don't need Cup matches to feel good". Yet you're already rifling the TV guide in panic at discovering the vintage My Mother The Car reruns where the nightly game usually is. And that's just the start of it. Tonight, unable to find relief from football deprivation in sleep, you'll seeking substitute comfort in midnight sports talk shows hosted by balding guys you hate. By 2am, you'll have stooped to re-broadcasts of 1989 Canadian Curling Championships (Under 18), if it isn't the definitive debauchery of pro wrestling.

At sun-up — shaking all over, your sweat flooding the neighbor's apartment below — you'll experience the horrid shock of catching yourself zapping between home shopping channels, keeping score based on which is flogging the least horrible product. And you'll be really, really into it. Good god, just look at you.
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By Friday, when the Germany v Argentina quarter final rolls around, the back end of this jolt of cold turkey will have you believing you've got your soccer dependency mastered. You'll think, "I can watch just this one game and stop there. I don't need more than that", only to find wind up chug-a-lugging the Italy v Ukraine game later that evening — then bingeing on the other two quarter finals the following day. After that, it's another 72 hour withdrawal hell until the semis, cold comfort three days later with the consolation final (AKA The Epic Clash of Losers), and final splatting on the bottom when the final whistle on July 9 brings the month-long footballing orgy to a resounding end. How will you live?

Don't ask me — I'm in the same boat. We all are. Every four years, the World Cup sucks us in, monopolizes our time, enflames our passions, raises (then atomizes) our hopes, ruins our marriages, infuriates our bosses, provides us some of the best sports moments we'll have for the next four years, and then leaves us weeping and orphaned forever (or at least for the month until our local pro leagues kick off again).

It's thrilling yet ultimately excruciating adventure, yet each time billions of us all willingly relapse all over again, loving each vicarious second of it. Except Americans, of course, who can't figure out why anyone wastes their time, ruin their health, and tarnish their reputations with soccer addiction. The lucky ducks. I wonder what they're intervention-ing about today.


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Matches
Sun, July 9 20:00*
FINAL: Berlin
Italy v France
1 (5) 1 (3)

*local time (CEST)

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