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The World Cup's hold on us


It is the only exquisite time when not participating is no barrier to pain or celebration, writes Rohit Brijnath

Only in football will the removing of small balls representing nations from glass bowls become a televised live event of universal fascination. Only in football will middle-aged fans watch team groupings unfold, then reach deep into an ancient memory of mathematics to immediately decipher the possible routes of least peril to the semifinals.

Only in football will dear, desperate England look at its World Cup group-mates (Sweden, Paraguay, Trinidad & Tobago) and go, "Fellows, it looks like we could win the cup. This no mere draw, it is a drawing of destiny."

Only in football will all this hope and calculation take place for a tournament that is still six months away!

As much as we are accustomed to this delirium — Polish bishops once reportedly interrupted an ecclesiastical conference to watch their team play — it is a reminder that the World Cup's hold on us is unequalled.

As a sporting universe, we profess allegiance to a single faith, football, sport at its most elemental and elegant. It is the only exquisite time when not participating is no barrier to pain or celebration. It is the only event where Kolkata street corners can turn into a Brazilian shrine. The only Socrates we know is a bearded, booted philosopher.

For a static ceremony, the draw is electric. It is also vastly entertaining. No one wants to be in the group of death, but many will clamour they are the one. Everyone wants to beat Brazil but no one wants to play them, which is a difficult proposition. An Australian reporter asks Pele if his team can beat Brazil, and the legend, always polite, says "why not" and it is a cover story Down Under. Hope is everywhere, it is everything.

Intriguing grouping

Poor little Serbia and Montenegro is drawn alongside seeds Argentina and threatening Holland, but its coach is an upbeat fellow, who disarmingly says: "This is a group of four excellent teams. Perhaps it should be called the group of joy or the group of happiness."

Every team deserves to be in Germany, but some will make up the numbers.

Elsewhere, Italy, ranked world No.12, is grouped with Ghana, the U.S. (world No. 8) and the Czech Republic (world No. 2), but will not bat an eyelid. Ranking is nothing in front of history and the Italians have won the cup thrice. Football may be the beautiful game but the Azzurri are accomplished at winning ugly.

Pedigree here is everything. Or is it? A wary eye will be cast over Ghana, Ivory Coast and Angola of whom little is known but much should be feared. The mere fact that Cameroon, Senegal and Nigeria are not here tells us enough about them. Africa anyway is known to dance surprises around people. One day a team from there will even win it all.

More established teams will begin collecting trainers, physios, gear stewards, faith healers, chefs, but first spies must scurry off on reconnaissance missions. Smaller nations will pack fewer personnel but fill suitcases with optimism. Once, Liberia's George Weah used his own money to pay many team expenses. Money matters, even in the seemingly equal world of soccer.

Everyone will commence praying, even the Brazilian coach Carlos Albert Parrerira, for if his team does not win, like Tele Santana once, he may require police protection. Already he must wonder: Ronaldo, Kaka, Adriano, Robinho, who must he offend with the bench? Riches in football do not always mean peace.

FIFA has shown perspicacity by insisting on a four-week gap between the end of leagues next year and the commencement of the cup, for tired footballers with wounded bodies are an inadequate advertisement for the great game. Nevertheless, players will beseech personal Gods to keep injury at bay, find a new resolve to make late bids for selection, and the occasional fan will announce to a tearful bride that their wedding, alas, must be postponed for a more pressing fixture awaits that day. For football, everything stops.

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