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The World Cup - A male perspective

Football
A Langwith match
Friday, 11th June 2010
A few weeks back I was in Manchester and the DJ decided to play Vindaloo. This particular venue had a boy/girl ratio which swung favourably in my direction (there were so many girls they had to kiss each other), yet the dancefloor had never been so crowded and the roofs never shook as they did for that song. Everywhere I looked people were sweating their way through every upbeat of it and singing along to Alex James’ thunderous bass line. Hands on my heart and tears in my eyes I recited Keith Allen’s immortal words; we all did.

The World Cup is the time when the fairer sex embrace football. Throughout South African stadiums and bars around the world, Argentinean chicas and flag-wearing American girls will behold the almighty spectacle of ’22 men chasing a football for 90 minutes and the Germans usually winning’. This year promises to be better than ever, with a few unfamiliar faces and fresh tactics as well as the best opportunity in a long time for two less familiar teams to make the final. Of course there will be old standards for the traditionalist fan and while Brazilian and Portuguese players provide the magic on the pitch I get to enjoy the magic off it.

At the same time my body will go through the motions as England threaten to make history. Wayne Rooney will either score or get sent off, Joes Cole and Hart will be the stars of the tournament should England pull together, Steven Gerrard has the opportunity to be the lion who leads England to their first legitimate World Cup, and Fabio Capello can prove to everyone whether money really does buy glory. At the same time referees will make the wrong decisions and unfairly put a country out, some teams and players will go home having made fresh enemies, and England will meet either Argentina or Germany in the match of the tournament.

Every match has the potential to be as big as the assassination of JFK, and your country of choice will send you on a roller-coaster ride throughout. I can still remember where I was when Michael Owen scored against Argentina, the taste of Coca-Cola Light I was sipping during Zinedine Zidane’s last ever action of a footballer still lingers in my mouth, and Ronaldinho’s free kick sailing over David Seaman still provides me with sleepless nights every few months. Football has that amazing power to become a life event except it is bigger even, because of the amount of people, from every background, that it brings together. The World Cup is the time to accept our differences and celebrate those of others, particularly ones who speak Portuguese.

Most importantly though, the 2010 World Cup is an opportunity for people of different nations to meet and learn more about each other. This is where you sing to your heart’s desire – you don’t need words tune or rhythm, just that beautiful, sexy, wonderful feeling that life is something to celebrate.

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