RIGHT, I promised I wouldn’t do this, but we’re one game in and already I’m feeling sufficiently indignant to warrant venting my spleen on these pages.
The first game of the tourney has kicked off, a rather lackluster and dull affair between the host nation South Africa and Mexico which ended one goal apiece. The football was predictably mince, Mexico getting the most of the play but South Africa playing much nicer football.
But what really got my back up was those bloody vuvuzela’s, a sound not unlike a swarm of bees, or a squadron of bombers over Germany (albeit in first gear). The wife thought the telly was broken, and even the kids (I’ve four of them so between them all I’m pretty immune to annoying background noise) where getting pretty irritated by the noise of these infernal devices.
Why they’re not banned by FIFA, an organisation for whom “fun” and “football” don’t always mix is beyond me considering what Wiki (so it must be true) has to say about these infernal devices:
They have been associated with permanent noise-induced hearing loss, a possible safety risk when spectators can’t hear evacuation announcements, potentiality spreading colds and flu germs on a greater scale than coughing or shouting. Commentators have described the sound as “annoying” and compared it with “a stampede of noisy elephants”, “a deafening swarm of locusts” and “a goat on the way to slaughter”.
Now, if none of those are not valid reasons to stop using the fecking things immediately, I don’t know what is.
Your average football fan has a lot to put up with these days. If it’s not Chick Young, it’s Darren Jackson. Or worse, Anton fucking Rogan. Inside the stadium you’re not safe from the cheeky escapades of fellow supporters either. If it’s not some Ultra group pulling a huge flag down over your head while you’re watching the game, then it’s a brass band two rows in front of you or some arsehole with a stovepipe hat, offensive tattoos and a great big bell getting in your way.
Yes, there’s enough to get your blood pressure going without having your eardrums battered by some dick with a drum, or some fat bloke from Newcastle with one of those fucking vuvuzelas blowing spit and germs in your ear from four rows back – especially after spending the kids inheritance getting to South Africa in the first place.
Thank goodness we no longer live in the days before colour and social welfare, when rattles, enormous flared trousers, flatcaps and rosettes where the thing to have whilst cheering on your team on.
Imagine sitting next to this lot (right) for the best part of an hour and a half. We all know that rattles where eventually phased out because they got on everyone’s tits, and nowadays you’d not get into the stadium with a rosette pinned to your flared lapels either: if the Casuals don’t get you first, the stewards certainly will.
Likewise, this is the way it needs to go with the vuvuzela. It’s annoying. It’s irritating. Someone will get hurt. Get rid.
And don’t get me started on the opening ceremony. I didn’t watch that either. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not some joyless member of the Wee Frees fresh off the boat from the islands (no sailing on Sundays), but it’s all so unnecessary. Do we really need a dancing display, or a performance by that well-known lover of the roundball game, Shakira? Or R. Kelly? I don’t think so. A beautifully played game of football is better than any of that, surely? Cut the crap, cut the patter and just GET ON WITH IT!
Right. Rant over.
I contributed a wee piece about my World Cup memories a while back, but the posting has now appeared on Scotzine along with those of a few other contributors to their site. The original article appears here, along with the links to the videos which Scotzine don’t seem to have linked to. And The Scottish Football Blog (be sure to congratulate them on on their 500th post even though they called me the Victor Meldrew of Scottish football blogs) continue their look back at great failures in Scottish Football history with Del Amitri. Nice.
Tags: World Cup
The noise was awful, I tried watching the first half with the volume so low I could barely hear the commentary, but gave up on the game completely after half an hour.
lol Victor Meldrew of Scottish football blogs lol Dont want to know what they would call me lol
I know, I couldn’t believe it, the cheeky sods. Not that I disagree mind, but still…