It’s been fun watching the World Cup, even though I scarcely understand the sport. What I like most is the display of sportsmanship–for example, the player who offers a helping hand and an apology to an opponent he’s just knocked to the ground. I also like that the rules of the game are strictly enforced and not overturned, save for one instance when a red card was negated by a Trump card. No matter, the president’s Jedi mind powers failed to achieve a win in the ensuing match against Belgium. (Think Luke Skywalker employing the so-called “force” to drop a proton torpedo into a two-meter-wide exhaust vent located at the far end of the main trench of Darth Vader’s Death Star.)
Kicking a soccer ball into a net past a goalkeeper and eleven defenders is equally difficult; in fact, a score in soccer is nothing short of a miracle. Yet fans of the sport never lose hope, no matter how long the odds.
I’m reminded of a game we used to play at a Peace Corps training camp many years ago. Sapo is a traditional Peruvian game wherein contestants toss tokens from a distance of ten feet at a hole representing the open mouth of a toad. Basically, it’s like throwing coins at a vending machine in hopes one might miraculously find the coin slot. To my knowledge, no one in our group ever scored, and perhaps that was the point–to condition us to persevere in a hopeless assignment; i.e., bringing peace to a troubled world.
And I guess that’s why I’ve so enjoyed the World Cup. What a treat to watch young men from nations large and small compete on a level playing field in hopes of achieving the impossible dream. And, if things don’t work out, accepting defeat like responsible grown-ups.