World Cup Fever

Right now I'm rather obsessed with the World Cup. They say the first step in overcoming your problem is admitting you have one. I don't really want to overcome this particular problem because it's quite enjoyable, but right now I need to stop obsessing about a goal that wasn't, so I'm blogging about my obsession instead. Here's my list of things about the World Cup that drive me crazy:

• Vuvuzelas. I do not tune into matches to hear what sounds like a very large swarm of angry bees.
• Referees who don't have to explain themselves after they make horrible calls on imaginary fouls.
• The fact that I live in a country that doesn't come to a standstill when our team is playing. I'm seriously considering being sick Wednesday morning until about 10:00.

Now some things about the World Cup that make it one of the few things worth getting up in the middle of the night or really, really early for:

• No timeouts, no cheerleaders, no commercials—just 45 minutes of 22 men playing the beautiful game, followed by a short break and then another 45 minutes.
• Kids get to escort the players onto the field before every match. Watch the kids' faces as they walk into the stadium holding the hands of some of the best players in the world—totally cool.
• Really good-looking men in shorts, even if my German boyfriend, Michael Ballack, isn't there because he's injured.
• The U2 songs ESPN uses in their commercials and previews of upcoming matches.
• It's inspired my missionary brother and the other elders living in his apartment to get up every morning to play a soccer game, since they can't get up early to watch one.
• My ability to get emotionally invested in a game, even when I'm watching a recording of it and I already know how it turns out. My poor neighbors.
• The complete unpredictability of it all.

It really is a magnificent spectacle. Now I just have to figure out how to move to Brazil or England or Argentina—heck, anywhere but America—for one month every four years. Olé, olé, olé, olé!