World Cup confession time: I really don’t like soccer.
My love for the game was obliterated way back in 1982 when I was but a wee lass, secretly dreaming of running off into the sunset with Karl-Heinz Rummenigge – Bavarian striker and then captain of the German national team, when the Germans were defeated 3:1 by the Italians in the final game, exactly 32 years ago, today.
Looking back having to watch both mine and Mr. Rummenigge’s dreams simultaneously getting crushed live on a tiny TV in a Pizzeria on the shores of Lago di Benaco while on a summer holiday with my family – drowned by a shouting, heaving mass of hot headed Azzurri followers, probably had something to do with the fact, that not only Mr. Rummenigge as a potential spouse, but also the entire game of soccer somehow, magically lost its appeal that night.
Not even the extra large free portion of consolation ice cream brought to me personally by the matriarch of the restaurant to stop the ocean of tears was able to change that.
Soccer and I parted ways that night. Somewhat amicably, mostly because of the extra large ice cream, I suppose.
Consequently, despite the fact that the Swiss qualified for the World Cup this time round, the tournament has caused about as much excitement at our house as the opening of the latest email from Mr. Wumi Butulezi promising that I inherited a gazillion dollars from a distant Nigerian relative.
Until the Germans kicked out the world cup’s host country Brazil in an excruciating 7:1 act of humiliation.
Twitter was ablaze. The mandatory internet memes ensued.
Then the tweet from this bloke caught my eye:
I thought: YES!
People are catching on.
It’s all about achieving things together!
And suddenly I felt a warm glow of happiness.