Watching a World Cup game or two started me thinking that there  are any number of uncomfortable sports metaphors in the world’s most popular game:  avid, frenzied fans on the edge of their seats, waiting expectantly, minute after endless minute, hoping for a sudden flash of the ball crossing into the opponent’s goal, (and not being arbitrarily called back by a confused referee), seems eerily close to that other pastime, observing political scrimmaging with unending minutes of added time.  In the chaos and cacophonous vuvuzela-induced drone, team supporters hold tightly to the hope for victory, against all odds, until the final whistle.  There ensues a wild celebration by the victors and stunned disappointment by the losers, but when all is said and done, nothing of real consequence has changed.  The most ravished countries remain so, the hatred and mistrust between and within nations continues, the real battles still wage and the oil still spews.

The sportsmanship at the World Cup is at a relatively high level compared to that of too many modern day professional matches wrought with bad behavior and brawling by players and fans alike.  But, as much as one might want to believe in the far-reaching benefits of global competition, the real quest is for bragging rights not diplomacy.  If these rare opportunities of focusing the world’s consciousness were truly about fair play and respect for one another, perhaps we could chip away at the divisiveness that keeps us on the brink of disaster.  Maybe that’s what the other international tournament, (the G8), is all about.  But who’s going to watch that?  No snacks…no swag…no slo-mo, (strike that…the whole thing is in slo-mo)…and no goals!