World Cup, Schmirld Cup

I hate the World Cup. There…I said it. But I’m not your typical World Cup hater.

At the beginning of the tournament I ignored all games except those that the Trinidadian team played in. Since I was born and partially raised in Trinidad I was naturally inclined to see them demolish their opponents. Trinidad did not go far in the competition and as a result I was on-edge, ready to snap at anyone who mentioned the fact that we lost…twice.

After I got over the loss of my home-team, I became a fan of France. I’ve never been to France, didn’t know a single french person and haven’t eaten french fries in months, but I took 5 long years of French in middle and high school, so I felt the need to give back to the country with my support.

When France defeated Spain, I was happy. When France defeated Brazil, I was ecstatic. When France defeated Portugal, I was jubilant (thank you, But then the final game of France vs. Italy came and I was, once again, on edge.

Due to other duties that needed to be fulfilled, I caught the final game at the 49th minute, but that didn’t spare me any distress. Each time France took the ball near their goal with their bright white, seemingly-angelic outfits, I was ready to jump through my 52”, 1990’s style big-screen television and kick the ball to the goal for them. This couldn’t have been good for my blood pressure.

The game went into overtime and the France player, Zidane, head-butted the Italian player in the chest. Although I consider the act of frustration to be 100% gangsta, it made the team suffer, which made me suffer…emotionally.

The game went to penalty kicks, which I’ll call “shootouts” because of Zidane…the gangsta. The French player tried to be cute and kick the ball high into the air, rather than directly into the goal, and as a result the ball was rejected by an inanimate object…the goal post. Give me a second to rant about this…

I’m neither a soccernista nor a mathematician, but I would imagine that the height to width ratio of a soccer goal is 1:5. Why on Germany’s green grass would you kick the ball up into the air rather than left or right into the goal?!? WHY?!

Because of this foolish move, Italy won 5 to 3 on penalty kicks and they flaunted their victory in my face. This act of showmanship arose feelings of repressed disgust for the Italian team for defeating the French, and somehow affected my physiological status.

Basically, I hate the World Cup because it puts me through a roller-coaster of emotions…and it doesn’t even have the decency to give me a reward for the anguish that I suffered. Thanks, World Cup… now you’ll have thousands, if not millions of people in therapy for years! and its affiliates do not condone Zidane’s actions, nor do we support random head-butting by its readers; however, you have to admit….that was cool!