For those who know me personally might find this a bit strange. This is the year of the FIFA World Cup and me being a football nut/junkie/fanatic/addict, I have yet to discuss anything on my blog even remotely related to football or soccer, depending on which side of the planet u live in. Strange isn't it?
Having spent the last 4 years gearing myself up for the biggest event on any football mad person, nothing has yet to come out of me is indeed surprising, even for me. No, it's not a case of me going cold turkey to cure myself off my football addiction, it's just that I felt there was no interesting thing to discuss. I mean look around you. Banners are everywhere. So are the posters. Not that I have lost interest, far from it, I just did not see the need to discuss my thoughts on the shocks of this tournament when there are countless footballs pundits all over the world waiting to give their take on things. I'm not about to join Gary Lineker or Bryan Robson as a pundit.
But let's looks at the hype surrounding this event or any football event for that matter. Just point me to any major football tournament which do not generate as much hype and interest. As the commercials go, "We all speak football". Well, I know that sports, in general, trancends any barriers, be it, religious, racial, language, ideologies and politics. However, any kind of organised sports still at it's very core administered by a bunch of people, who are, nevertheless, politicians. And you know when politics come into play, things will get cloudy.
I pity the football millionaires. I really do. I mean look at how many of them have fallen by the wayside. Prime example amongst them, the legendary George Best. Acclaimend by many to be the most gifted of footballers, he threw his life away when at the age of 26 he walked way from it all. Overcome by the trappings of success, he just didn't know what to do with all his money and spent it all on the booze. It's a very common tale, poor young boy comes to the city to play his favourite game, gets noticed by the thousands of scouts, signs a huge contract with more zeroes he could count, gets better, becomes more famous. Remmber Garrincha? The World Cup winner with Brazil in 1958, a team-mate of the immortal Pele, well, he died penniless.
While George Best is not the only one, he remains the epitomy of fame getting into the head of a young footballer. And this was way back in the 60's and 70's when football has yet to reach it's financial pinnacle. Owing to the fact that there will always be the insatiable demand to watch the skills of top players, tournaments are created to exhibit these very skills. And at whose expense? Of course, without the spectators, the footballing gods will not be as rich as they are now. But success always come with a price. I mean they are being thrust into the limelight and not all of them are comfortable with a microphone shoved in their face, flashes going off everywhere.
Then again, without these sporting administrators and the whole media circus, we would never be able to witness the many unforgettable skills on show. Way back in 1970, only a handful of people would have been so lucky to be able to watch the Final itself. Now, in 2006, almost everyone had access to the games, even those poor detainees in Guantanamo Bay. While I dislike the commercialism that is so prevalent in my beloved sports - The Beautiful Game, I have to admit that without such overt commercialism, we would not have had the luxury of witnessing the rise of South Korea in 2002 or the triumph of Zizou and France in 1998 or the gut-wrenching penalty miss by Robberto Baggio in 1994.
I have to admit that while it is crazy to wake up at the unearthly hours here just to watch 22 men chasing after a ball, many amongst us would miss the games for anything in the world. Not me, I'd gladly fork out my money all over again to watch that freekick by Beckham against Colombia in 1998, that wonder solo goal by Owen in the same tournament, that superb strike by Bergkamp against Argentina in 1998 and the long range strike by Gheorghe Hagi in 1994. Pieces of skills that we, mere mortals, could only dream of.
2010, yeap, I'll be watching. Again
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