Thursday, June 08, 2006

The World Cup? That must be a big cup!

Well, It is world cup time again. If you are anything like me, this means absolutlely nothing. In fact, you might hear a conversation like this from me, or someone like me, to myself, or someone like myself:

"Oh yeah, World Cup...that's soccer right, I mean phoot-bowl? Well great, but doesn't that happen every year?"
"It turns out that world cup is played every four years dummy, and every four years I find myself paying just as much attention as the year before."
" Hey wait, didn't I just say it was played every four years, though? Then what do you mean you pay just as much attention as the year before?
"Yep, you got it. It was a snide, highly sarcastic, and possibly insulting remark."
"...But I am you, your having a conversation with yourself, me!"

I'd better stop there before I drive myself crazy and get in a fight.

The oddity of it all is that I played soccer as a child growing up, and if I remember right, I think I enjoyed it. So let's analyze this a second. Let us break it down. Dig through the cushions of life and see what kind of change, food crumbs, and random objects we can find to make sense of it all.

When I was a kid I enjoyed playing soccer. I also enjoyed throwing rocks at girls I liked on the playground, digging deep holes, collecting toe nail clippings, playing the 'track and field' game on regular Nintendo, signaling with a pumping motion of my arm for semi-trucks to blow their horns, and trying to grab on to the back bumper of moving vehicles while on my skateboard --in an attempt to have it pull me like Marty on Back to the Future. So, as you can clearly tell, as a kid, I knew what fun was.

Now that I am older and unmistakeably wiser, I look back and realize that soccer was an outlet for me to run around as much as I like, make myself silly, and not get in trouble for it. On the other hand, Soccer was an outlet for my mom to let me run around in a field, (instead of the house) burn some of my inexhaustable energy, and relieve her from going silly. It was a win win situation.

Then I broke my leg. It was devistating to my soccer career and devistating to my mom who all of the sudden had an overly energetic kid, immobilized, and doing his best to keep her entertained while stuck at home. All right, relax, take a deep breath, it will only be for about three months. Oops, I broke my leg again right after I got my cast off. It was devistating to my...yadda yadda yadda...! Now my parents were in need of finding a new energy-releasing outlet for me. So, they opt to convince me that another sport will be even better. "For our sake and for the sake of your obviously frail bones, let's try baseball!"

So here I am, older, wiser, and not living at home. I realize soccer isn't the fastest moving sport, there isn't as much money in it, (which is so important) and World cup is captivating almost the whole world every four years. So what am I going to do different this World Cup year? Probably just write about it in this blog! Other than that I will just go about life normally and four years from now say, "Wow, World Cup again...didn't their moms just send them out to run around last year?"

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

aron is standing over my sholder making sure I write a comment to show that he is popular... we all know the truth. RISKY aron -- a new blogger attacking a popular sport like soccer in his second post. RISKY aron RISKY.

Most people do tend to go towards baseball when they are older -- you can be old - overweight - and lazy and PRO. Ill stick to soccer thanks.

Anonymous said...

Soccer is a sport designed by, played by, and loved by poor people. Baseball players may be overweight and occasionally lazy, but at least they can afford to eat meat with their rice adn beans!

Anonymous said...

I enjoyed reading your post, don't feel at all intimidated by Danger's comments. Soccer is a popular poor-country sport. Plus, my guess is he's overweight too.

Anonymous said...

Great read cuz, How often are you going to make posts, everyday, week, month?

The Saturnine Examination of Saul Goodman