No Business Like Show Business

Ah, THE World Cup. That bloody World Cup.

Transports both fans and players straight into Never-never land, that place where legends are born that shall never die.

But what’s the whole point of the World Cup?

“To determine the best team on the planet”

Rubbish.

To determine the best team in the final more like it, or the one that held its nerve during penalties, as Italy did in '06.

Whatever they tell you about best or worst players, whatever statistics they pull out, whatever history they all point back to, don’t believe them folks because it doesn’t mean jack:

It’s ALL a show.

How many times have we heard it all before: France are host nation in ’98, with not a chance to win the damned thing in their own back yard, for the French have never won it before, and they’ve got no strikers see? And champions Brazil are too good – why, they’ve even got Ronaldo! Besides,
France coach Aime Jacquet doesn’t know what he’s doing!

But did France have any good strikers at the time? Guivarc’h was meant to be great but I doubt anyone remembers him now except for me and his mom. Top scorer in Ligue 1, but not a goal scored throughout the tournament. Trezeguet and Henry were still babies at the time, although they bagged four in the group stage. Veteran genius Dugarry stepped on and scored in the first game before being carried off injured, and only turned up again in the final. A final France won: 3-0 AGAINST BRAZIL!

Roll on to the next world cup in ’02, with France now reigning world champions AND are also the champagne champs of Euro 2000. Certainly it’s theirs to lose? Certainly is: they lose to Senegal (WHO?!!!) in opening match before crashing out in the group stage! How can it be? They were phenomenal on paper!

Is anyone now predicting that the same thing will happen to Spain? Of course not: “they may be a little bit old” say the more cautious amongst us, including me. And surely they’ll make mincemeat of Australia, is the general opinion. But can we really rule them out of the running? No. Can they possibly crash out in the group stage? Who knows - but would it surprise me? No!

That’s the point: it’s all a show! And better still: it’s not scripted either!

We can probably all point to countless other examples were the experts were made to look like dummies and the clueless punters made to look like experts.  The ball is round, it’s a game of flipper, and surely that’s why we watch it.

‘But wait!’ I hear the purists amongst you shouting in the background, ‘there surely must be some merit as to who places first? Surely they deserved it!’

As Clint Eastwood's protagonist hisses at the end his masterpiece ‘Unforgiven’:

‘Deserve’s got nothing to do with it’ Boom!

Then why do we watch it?

I know why I watch it. The greatest bloody show on earth: mind-blowing feast of various nations and peoples, a celebration of the most democratic of sports known to mankind, and – in my most unbiased opinion – the most beautiful spectacle created by man – bar none.

Ah, THE World cup. That bloody World Cup.

Elusive little beauty isn’t it?