Soccer Is My World Cup Of Tea

Something very serious has happened to me in the past four days and I fear I am losing control.

Addiction.

The word itself is simple, the meaning behind it, crippling.

I would never have believed it was possible to go from being a casual dabbler to a heavy user in less than a week, but here I sit, itchy, twitchy, counting the hours till my supplier shows up in the morning.

My home is getting dirty - cleaning just doesn't seem a priority.  Food?  Feh.  While in the throes of a solid high I go hours without even a trace thought to physical nourishment.  My email is backing up, I know I have bills I need to pay, errands I must run, and my dog reminded me she needed fed last night by throwing her bowl at my head.

Help.

I mean is there any scientific data available to help me understand the power of stimulant addiction and just how one faces the inevitability of having to go cold turkey once the main supply has run dry?

Don't answer that. I don't think I could possibly give this up - it feels too good, it makes my blood race faster through my veins, in fact, I find myself screaming, pacing, cheering, kicking, and exulting as the high kicks in...

But...addiction is WRONG, right? I should get help. I should go on the offensive and fight harder to overcome these foul demons.

Alas, I do not believe there is any 12 step program available with the goal of overcoming this particular addiction, so perhaps I should start one for my fellow sufferers (and I know there are millions...)

Here goes...

Hello, my name is Linda Sharp, and I am a World Cupaholic.

That's right - it's June 2006 - meaning the World Cup is once again runnething over, this time in Germany, where teams have come from all over the world to participate in what is truly the globe's game: SOCCER.

Sure, we Americans may slobber over football, but it is futball that makes the world go round. Soccer is an international language, with followers more faithful and dedicated than those found in most religions. The "beautiful game" has been played for centuries, with America coming to the soccer party late, and we are still dribbling full speed to catch up with the international clubs that turn players like Beckham and Ronaldinho into rock stars.

I admit, my own invitation to the soccer world must have gotten lost in the mail because I have only discovered the joy and the artistry of the game since my own children began playing roughly four years ago.

They play at the recreational level, and as they have learned, so have I. As they have grown proficient in their skills, I, too, have embraced this sport which often times only produces a single digit score at the end of each game.

To those who don't "get it" - and I completely admit, I used to be one of them (not good for someone married to a man who attended college on a soccer scholarship), a 1 - 0 score isn't exactly thrilling. Those 78-23 basketball scores and 38-15 football finals seem to hold more excitement.

That couldn't be more wrong.

And watching these World Cup participants - some of the world's most fit athletes - is to come away humbled by the stamina, endurance, and years of practice that go into being able to pull off a 1 - 0 win.

That single point - and rarely do professional level soccer game scores go higher than the number 3 or 4 - is the result of 90+ minutes of constant running, timing, accuracy, teamwork, footwork, forethought, speed, patience, and oftentimes, plain old luck.

When a game goes 0 - 0, it is easy to think, "Oh big whoop. You mean no one even scored?"

Such was the case with the 0 - 0 game I watched today between France and Switzerland. The score may be boring on paper, but the watching was anything but. These two teams played with every fiber of their being, suffering injuries, frustrations, sweating gallons of fluid that drenched their bright new uniforms.

And for what? To score nada?

Yes.

In tournament play, that gets them one point - added towards what they can knock out in the next two games they play.  And that one point may make the difference between moving out of their group and having to wait for the next World Cup in 2010.

Watching the games is a quick way to discover just how geographically ignorant you are.  Again, these teams come from everywhere, countries large and small, remote and easily accessible, industrial and highly millenniumized.  For instance, most people can find England or Spain, but can you point to Trinidad and Tobago on a map?  How about Togo?  Probably not, which means, like me, you'd be surprised to also learn these countries play soccer at such a high level.

I think what has addicted me the quickest is not just the skill level and the good looking hard bodies from every country, no, rather it is the amazing sportsmanship being displayed by all these men. Sure, there are fouls, in a soccer game those are inevitable. There have even been a couple men red carded (ejected) from the games for dangerous plays or abysmal behavior, but those are far and few between.

The overriding thing I see are hundreds of men who respect the heck out of one another and the skills they bring to the pitch. They pat each other on the backs, check on opposing team members when they train wreck into one another to make sure they are OK, and at the end of these hard fought battles, exchange jerseys with their position rivals as a sign of respect and admiration for a game well played.

My daughters - budding soccer stars both - have been glued to the TV with me. They study the footwork, plays, passing, artistry and positioning (and the hot guys), learning more they are now eager to take into their next season of play.

But they, too, have also noted the way the players behave towards one another - whether the outcome is victory, defeat, or a seemingly boring 0-0 draw, and I know they will take that with them as well the next time they take the field.

Today I witnessed the reigning World Cup champs - Brazil, favored to again emerge victorious in July and arguably comprised of the finest players in the world - in their first 2006 World Cup game - this one against underdog Croatia. (To Croatia's credit, they played spectacularly, losing by that single point, 1-0)

While much has been written and trumpeted about Brazil's artistry, skill and level of play on the field, and it is all true - to watch Ronaldinho, Ronaldo, Emerson and Kaka is to watch a gorgeously choreographed (albeit sweaty) Swan Lake - what struck me the most is that they play with joy. They play with verve. They play like my daughters - because they love the game.

Sure, they love their millions of dollars in salary and endorsements too, but I daresay, were the cars, money and babes taken away? They would play anyway.

And that is why I am now firmly in the grips of this addiction. Yes, my ability to watch owes a great deal to my actual understanding of the game itself, but my enjoyment - my high, if you will, comes from watching a bunch of highly skilled, full grown men who welcome their inner children onto the field to play with them.

Now, you'll have to excuse me ... there are three games tomorrow and I need to go set my TiVo...

My name is Linda Sharp...and I am a World Cupaholic. Someone pass the soccer bong, please...

Comments

[TONIE]

HI LINDA
YOU KNOW I LOVE READING WHAT YOU WRITE AND I LIKE WRITING TO YOU AS WELL, BUT I HAVE ONE QUESTION FOR YOU.....AREN'T YOU A TEXAN? TELL ME YOU ARE WATCHING THE BASKETBALL CHAMPIONSHIPS TOO. PLEASE. I UNDERSTAND SOCCER, I TRIED TO PLAY IT, COULDN'T HANG, ASTHMA AND ALL THAT RUNNING DON'T MIX, HOWEVER I AM A FLORIDIAN, AND AS A GENERAL RULE ALL SPORTS WITH THE EXEPTION OF FOOTBALL ( THE NFL KIND) ALL SPORTS ARE A NO NO FOR THE TV. I WILL GO TO A GAME, I WILL GO TO BAR TO WATCH A GAME, BUT I CANNOT SIT THRU 2 HOURS OF A HOCKEY GAME, WHEN I CAN'T EVEN SEE THE PUCK. I HAVEN'T TRIED SOCCER, BUT I AM WILLING TO GIVE IT TRY. I HATE BASKETBALL, REALLY, BUT I HAVE FOUND MYSELF GLUED TO THE TV DURING THE FINALS AND THE PLAYOFFS FOR THE LAST TWO YEARS. MY HUSBAND IS FROM DETROIT, SO YOU CAN ONLY IMAGINE THE FIGHTS THAT GO ON AT MY HOUSE. I AM INTRIGUED THAT MEN, CAN MOVE THAT FAST, JUMP THAT HIGH, RUN THAT LONG. ( THEN AGAIN NO ONE IS ASKING THEM TO FEED THE KIDS, DO THE LAUNDRY, OR TAKE OUT THE GARBAGE). I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU LOVE SOCCER, I FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT FOOTBALL, AND BEING IN SOUTH FLORIDA, ESPECIALLY THE AREA THAT I LIVE IN, IT IS LIKE LITTLE BRAZIL, SO I DON'T HAVE A WHOLE LOT OF CHOICE ABOUT WATCHING IT'S EVERYWERE. BUT PLEASE TELL ME THAT YOU ARE WATCHING THE NBA FINALS TOO.

GO HEAT!!!!! ( SORRY )

[Lori in Texas]

Although I have never been a soccer (...excuse me... FOOTBALL) fan, I am blissfully married to an Englishman and, therefore, all life in our home comes to a screeching, smoking halt every four years during the World Cup. Hold on a sec... I have to interject something:

GO ENGLAND!!!!!!!!!

OK, I feel better now.

Anyway, I don't understand the game much at all. I'm not a soccer-mom and neither of my kids plays the game. And, to me, it looks a lot like a grassy hockey match with no scoring and slightly less violence -- back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, whistle, fall down, get up, more back and forth. But my wonderful hubby has made the supreme effort to try and help me understand a little more. I've actually watched a few games - and listened to most of them.

I totally "get" your observation about the respect level of the players, too. And another thing that I love about the international football matches are the fans. I have as much fun watching the fans in the stands as I do watching the gameplay on the field. I'm right there with you, Linda. Not an addict, but enjoying the tournament, nonetheless.

Excuse me, now. I have to go make sure the VCR is taping. Poor hubby's head will explode if he misses a match!