Bob Wire Has a Point (It's Under His Cowboy Hat)

Everyone’s Buzzing About the World Cup

That sound you hear is a billion TVs being turned off in disgust.

By Bob Wire, 6-12-10

 
  "Hey, World Cup organizers, thanks for ruining my rep!"

It’s time for World Cup Soccer! At last, the one sport enjoyed by virtually every country in the world takes center stage, and 24-hour TV coverage will ensure that everyone can get their fill.

I have to admit I’ve never been interested in soccer, outside of shuttling my kids to a few thousand youth league games. In the span of one or two generations it’s become the Great Equalizer of kids’ sports in the U.S. We didn’t have soccer when I was a kid. Somebody mentioned soccer, and you looked around for a girl to punch. We played baseball, kickball, football, hoops, kick the can, buck-buck, red rover, BB-gun tag, lawn darts, and my favorite, Storm the Treefort.

But soccer has infiltrated the American culture to the point where the term “soccer mom” long ago entered the lexicon, a term used to describe a harried housewife who spends her days driving kids to and from soccer practice, taking frequent breaks to shovel empty Capri Sun bags out of her Chrysler Town & Country. Soccer moms (by no effort of their own) actually became a demographic, a desired voting bloc. Much like Hungover Lawnmowing Dads did in the 1970s.

So now in the U.S., soccer has been woven tightly into the social fabric of families from coast to coast. The Wire tribe is no exception, and I thought it would be interesting to see the sport played at its highest level, on an international stage in a stadium packed with 100,000 rabid, slobbering fans. So I walked into the living room to find Rusty watching the Argentina/Nigeria match. I was immediately confused, as the announcers were nearly drowned out by the hum of a zillion bees. “What the hell is that? Is something wrong with the TV?” I asked him. “Is this on Fox?”

“Naw,” Rusty said, not looking away from the screen. “They give out horns to all the spectators in the stadium.”

“You mean this buzz is going to go on for the whole game? Every game?”

“Yeah,” he said, taking another mouthful of cereal. “Every game.”

“Screw that,” I said, walking toward the back door. “I’m gonna go mow the lawn.”

[Share this column with all your hardcore soccer fan friends. Especially if they’re beekeepers.]

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Comments

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