The World Cup fever catches on!

By Lenox Mhlanga

Feel it … it is here! The Soccer World Cup is finally underway in South Africa. It was surely a long wait but it was worth it. If you have not caught the football bug then you must be dead, or worse. Alain de Botton, a newspaper columnist puts it this way, “Football phobia is a problem for which there is no public support. In fact alcoholism draws more sympathy.”

With this spectacle, as has been the case with the last one in Germany, women have come to the forefront in supporting what has essentially been a male pastime. I remember reading somewhere about a lady’s comments made after her husband had taken her to her first match.

When asked what the whole experience was like, she replied, “I still do not find watching 22 grown men kicking an inflated spherical object for ninety minutes entertaining. In fact I sympathised with the lone player in black who ran so much throughout the game but never got to kick the ball, poor man!”

Since time immemorial, the fairer sex has suffered from the excesses of the male species. They have continuously been the victims of the World Cup mania that grips the globe once every four years. But ask any man and they will tell you that such an accusation is incredulous. They say it is not their fault that women find it hard to understand the game, let alone like it.

Now who would like a game that made them endure many long and lonely nights as their mates sat transfixed in front of the television set? Others have to deal with absentee husbands who would be glued to the big screens mounted at the local pub, doing untold damage to the family budget as they buy countless rounds for the lads.

There is no greater crime than not showing interest in the world’s greatest game. A full bloodied heterosexual male cannot admit hating football without suspicions being raised. Confessing lack of interest is fraught with the dangers of being labelled an alien just landed from Mars.

Imagine this; Cristiano Ronaldo dribbling the entire opposition’s defence capping it with a spectacular volley to the corner of the net. It’s as if the height of human happiness (besides orgasm) resided in scoring and celebrating a goal! Everyone — particularly the males — literally lose their heads, shattering decibels. This is one of the few occasions when people can go bonkers without the fear of being shipped off to the funny farm.

It sounds rather odd to hear that some bosses would like pretend to be immune to the fever pitch excitement going on all around their ears. What kind of a boss schedules a meeting on the very afternoon that the World Cup kicks off, which is a Friday for God’s sake? Even the heartless of bosses will be expected to look the other way when bleary-eyed subordinates stumble in late after a particularly engrossing night game.

It’s called World Cup Fever, a disease that has already left a trail of destruction in homes as football widows try to find alternative means of occupying themselves. Is there a possible solution for the millions of women who will be tearing their hair out in frustration and running off to divorce lawyers?

One solution would be to recreate the bar environment at home. Swallow your pride woman and encourage him to bring his obnoxious friends home. It means having to contend with a flooded loo, broken pieces of furniture and the mandatory vuvuzela. The bonus will be that he is within shouting distance, at least.

It is also a fact that while face powder may catch a man, it’s the baking powder that keeps him. Lasso your man with the best cooking money can buy. If you can’t, these are the desperate times that your mother warned you about. They require desperate measures. Ship in your favourite aunt if you can or hire that loony chef from hell’s kitchen! Your man will be like putty in your hands running around the living room like an English poodle.

It should be made clear that the exclusive 5-star service is only for the duration of the World Cup. There should be non-negotiable conditions that include not moving beyond a one-metre radius of the flat screen unless when answering the call of nature or taking out the rubbish. No walking the dog in case the temptation to wet one’s lips becomes too much to bear. Pubs are definately out of bounds.

Today, every newspaper, television station and website and every conversation one joins seems filled with reference to that preposterous sporting event taking place in South Africa, whines one journalist. Zimbabwe got its moment of glory when they played Brazil. It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for the World Cup being staged in South Africa. Not that we don’t see it, it’s here, it’s all around us, it’s everywhere … we feel it!

Lenox Mhlanga is a freelance writer and a communications consultant based in Botswana.