What makes this THE sporting event of the planet ?
What makes millions of people all over the world gasp when they see the Cup ?
What makes 4-year olds and granddads from Boston to Borneo tune in to their local sports channel all round the clock to watch 22 grown up men wearing shorts kick a ball around for 90 minutes ?
Its difficult to describe the sensation. I’ve been a part of a footballing family, and every four years in the summer, things at home ground to a halt. All the broken TV sets got repaired, the remote got a fresh set of batteries, and eating in front of the TV was not tabboo anymore. Exams and tests could wait, the ladies weren’t allowed to so much as squeak.
It would be an understatement to say that the FIFA World Cup is a festival. It is the penultimate in sports celebration. As the feverish excitement of one world cup dies down, teams all around the world gear for the fierce rounds of qualifying games. As these matches go on, the common man’s interest slowly dies down. Truly speaking in many cases the qualifiers are a tad too academic for the lay man. But as the also-rans get thumped and the giants and underdogs emerge, the pitch rises up again.
Whole nations go into hypnosis as their 11-man army battles for a place in the finals. For the surprise packages, its almost a question of life and death. Just making into the final few is prize enough. For the blessed few nations who make it to the finals regularly its a question of national pride, satisfaction of having met targets, and new challenges, that is if they make it; if they don’t, then the team suffers the ignominy of being treated virtually as traitors, and many a footballing career have seen a gory end like this.
By the time the list of teams are ready, the tension slowly gets tangible. The punters and die-hard fans are ready with their favorites and predictions. The World Cup must be unique in its ability to generate violent passions in nations who do not have representatives playing. In Asia particularly, the passion is no less than that of the South Americas or Europe. No more regionalism here, the Bengali Babu from Calcutta and the Gulf-return Malayali from Kannur will both readily give everything to see their pet Argentines pick up the ’’Cup of Life’’.
Then theres the music, media, and the millionsin advertising too. There are people who will always remember the Grana Padano ads from Italia 90 and not have a hint of what it actually was. Ricky Martin had his shot at World Cup fame too. and you have songs and ditties that become ballads.
Once the tournament starts, there is no stopping the pulses and emotions. Seldom do people remember the grand stadiums or the extravagant opening ceremonies, each World Cup will be remembered by only the football, the goals and the winners. Myths, legends are created in minutes, whole nations and population thrown into the depths of anguish the next. All for that one cup.
Football is a merciless sport too, the last gasp goals, the penalties, the wrong calls by the referee, the magical individual performances, the inhuman swerving free-kick, have all rewritten world cup and football history. Grown men cry in front of their TVs, wives scream in agony.
And finally after weeks of sweat, rumour, scandal, and pure passion, somebody will lift the cup. At that one moment, millions of people all around the world will be in rapture, while another millions worth fight back the sobs in vain. Every soccer fan will remember every final in his life.
And now its time again, and I can feel it inside me. The game beckons, the T-shirts, jerseys and posters come out, fancy a game anyone ???!!!!!