We’re knee-deep into the World Cup. The beautiful game (o jogo bonito) has taken the center stage. Flag waving, patriotic face-coloring, and sleep deprivation is spreading globally. It’s more contagious than Covid! The No.1 tournament of the world’s most popular sport. Thirty-two teams play 64 matches. Over a billion.two fans will be watching—and that’s just for the final game!
And so far, there have already been a few shockers: USA and England’s tie and the Saudi’s 2-1 stunning win over Argentina. Even Pope Francis Tweeted WTF?! to that one. Mr. Bone Saw’s (aka Crown Prince MBS) team had less than a nine percent chance of winning that match but somehow did. Still, better odds than a Detroit Lions victory on T-Day or the Leafs winning the Stanley Cup!
I love soccer, such a great sport. The most democratic of all team sports—you just need a ball. No tennis or golf club memberships required, no $300 hockey sticks, no travel team supplements, and no 6AM practices, either! Bitter? You betcha.
I played soccer (and baseball and basketball) as a youth until grade 8, when I could legally start hitting people. Then I quickly switched sports to the macho-man trifecta of football, hockey and lacrosse—the UFC wasn’t around then. Teenage hormones, I’m guessing? And I enjoyed watching my hard-working daughter, Petra, play well into high school on some outstanding Santa Monica teams and then my talented son, Lucca (aka The Boot), play until he lost interest. More work than play, he said. Too much running, I say.
My non-national teams are Liverpool, Barcelona, and the Boca Juniors of Buenos Aires. And you can’t not like the passion and ginga-play of Brazil’s national team. Their fans always seem to be having the most fun. But I’m pulling for the Canadians to finally score a World Cup gooooaaaal. Time will tell. And I want to see the greatest soccer player of our era, Lionel Messi, finally, win one. Ain’t a Saint Maradona needs replacing.
I have been to Qatar (kuh-taar). I took in a futbol game in Doha—an amazing hi-tech city BTW. It was April 2013 at Khalifa International Stadium. The unknown Lekhwiya team defeated an even more unknown Al-Sadd SC team 3-2 in the similarly unknown Heir Apparent Cup (aka Qatar Cup). But I remember it because there was an air-conditioning vent under my seat and no women in the stands—or a beer in my hands, for that matter.
The Economist magazine reports that Qatar spent more than US$220 billion on the 2022 World Cup. That’s a lot of money, considering it only cost Russia $12 billion to stage their World Cup—and that included Putin’s usually 25% vigorish. And that was the most expensive ever. So yeah, $220 billion really is a lot of money! Some would say obscene. But obscenity, along with homosexuality and beer apparently, are outlawed in Qatar. Makes total sense to be holding the tournament there…what could go wrong?
I’ll be watching select, non-sleep-depriving games on TV. Oddly, the contests are co-sponsored by FOX-TV. Seems rather incongruent for FOX to be broadcasting 64 live games of a sport no one in America really likes between international teams from countries that no one in America knows the whereabouts of…Quick, find Cameroon, Croatia, and Uruguay on the map. I’ll wait.
BTW…If I haven’t sold you on soccer yet, this should put you over the top: Because the best thing about watching it on TV is…get ready…are you sitting?…there are NO commercial interruptions during play, ever. Crazy, huh!?
My first awareness of the World Cup as a global happening occurred in the summer of 1982 in Toronto. My buddy Vince and I, who lived on Bleecker Street in Cabbagetown, went to Little Italy after Italy’s 3-1 win over West Germany. It was bedlam. Everyone was so happy and partying wildly in the streets. Like St Patrick’s Day, everyone had turned Italian. It was so much fun kissing strangers. This was pre-herpes era after all.
Since then, I have made my own World Cup memories because, fortunately, I’ve been to three so far.
In 1994, I attended the USA vs. Colombia game at the unairconditioned Rose Bowl with 93,869 of my closest friends. It was a scorching late afternoon game in Los Angeles. And it was also electric: fighter jets, flags, chants. At 35 minutes, defender Andrés Escobar scored an unlucky own goal, and the US went on to upset Colombia 2-1. Crazy celebrations ensued. I remember getting into a limo (no parking issues for us) with my associate Wayne to get to a West LA eatery for a political event, changing into a suit and tie in the back on the 10 freeway. Little did I know that the event’s hostess with the mostess would become my wife nine-plus years later! But the USA summarily lost 1-0 to eventual World Cup champs Brazil in the first knockout round. But that Rose Bowl match was macabrely noteworthy because apparently someone back in Medellín, Colombia, had mucho pesos riding on that game and wasn’t happy with Escobar’s own goal, and he was brutally shot dead outside a nightclub when he returned home. They take soccer seriously in Latin America.
Next up was 2006, when my daughter and I headed to Germany to enjoy the World Cup festivities. Another hall pass. Frankfurt was buzzing with excitement. Festive fanfests galore, giant big screens in parks, and fans from all over the world. We attended two insignificant but sold-out matches: Togo vs. South Korea in Frankfurt and Saudi Arabia vs. Tunisia in Munich. It was great fun. This was the World Cup of Zidane’s infamous boned-headed head butt that gave Italy the Cup.
But what I remember most was being able to teach my daughter an important life lesson in the Hofbräuhaus am Platzl in Munich. It was mostly a wholesome, fun Bavarian atmosphere of dancing, drinking and music. First, I showed her how I, of course, reasonably enjoyed my single stein of beer while she ate a pretzel. Then I showed her a few fräuleins dancing a little too gaily by the oompah band, noting they had had two beers. Then pointed out a couple of staggering lederhosen-wearing fellows holding each other up, cautiously informing her they had had three beers. And when she returned from the loo telling me the horrors of witnessing some lady unbecomingly throwing up in a toilet, I fatherly shook my head and said four beers! She understood. She also learned on that trip that whenever dad stopped to have a beer, she got ice cream. It was a win-win.
Finally, when we still lived in British Columbia in 2015, I took the kids to BC Place to see the quarter-final match of the women’s World Cup between Canada and England. They proudly wore red maple leaf’s on their cheeks. It was a wonderful day with a great atmosphere, although sadly, England prevailed 2-1 before us 54,000 fans.
All that said, you probably don't know much about soccer, do you? You probably don't care, like my buddy who prefers watching paint dry…and golf!? Okay, here are ten fun facts to help you enjoy the most beautiful game in the world:
• When watching soccer, remember it is a combination of athleticism, ballet, luck, and geometry—think ever-changing moving triangles.
• Soccer players are among the best-conditioned athletes (and actors) in the world: soccer players run on average 11 kilometers (about 7 miles) in a game…In comparison, NHL hockey players travel about 5 miles (40 sprints a game), NBA players run about 2 miles, non-line NFLers run about 1.25 miles, and baseball players .03 miles. Nuff said.
• Team USA is young, very young, with an average age of just 25. But will their fresh legs offset their inexperience?
• There are, on average, 1,300 touches of the ball a game…so the more time and space you can achieve, the better your results. For example, in a recent World Cup match, all eleven players touched the ball through 35 passes leading to a goal. Amazing team play.
• Goals are rare. Deal with it. It makes soccer the most uncertain of all team sports. Less than 3 goals a game (2.66) are scored at elite levels. Teams score in roughly one of eight/nine shots taken…so with maybe 12 shots a game, you do the math. And most goals are scored in the second half, when it matters!
• A third of goals result from set pieces—corners, penalties, throw-ins, or free-kicks. Improvisation and athleticism produce the majority.
• Soccer is a 50/50 game of skill and luck…in fact, data suggests that half of all World Cup matches are decided on chance. Do you feel lucky?
• On penalty kicks, 57% of the time, goalies head left, 41% right…which means goalies stay in the center only 2% of the time. So mathematically, the best play is to shoot it hard up the middle, but they rarely do. Maddening!
• One moment can change a match…and a career. And one game can change a tournament. And that’s the magic of soccer…you have to wait for that moment. Cue Carly Simon’s “Anticipation.”
• Soccer fans subscribe to one of two theories: either to the Great Man Theory (Pelé, Ronaldo, Maradona, Klose, etal, can single-handedly change a game) or the Perfect System Theory: Spanish Tiki-taka = possession and short passes; Brazilian ginga – emotional and imaginative play; British longball = dump and run (aka hit and hope); Nordic physicality; the Dutch Total Football System; and Italy tough-nosed defense, and then whine a lot. Pick ‘em. Frankly, there is no winning formula, but many ways to win…and it’s fun to watch the matchups.
Enjoy the rest of 2022 World Cup.
Thanks for the privilege of your time, it is the most precious thing we have, and I appreciate it. Be well.
William D. Chalmers © 2022 GreatEscape Adventures, Inc. All Rights Reserved.