I used to enjoy trolling people who loved soccer, but then I realised I was being a gigantic fuckwit. I still don’t like the game. But so what? Billions of people love it and it’s a tiny little dick move to troll them for their love.
I will admit, however, to enjoying one aspect of the World Cup. The perennial delusion that Australia matters. In soccer terms, we are the America of world cup cricket. We make up the numbers. We are the practice ball for real teams like France to kick around.
There’s always this fun couple of weeks where everyone tries desperately to pretend otherwise. It’s characterised by dozens of feel-good human interest stories around the Socceroos. My fave this week has been their ‘secret weapon’.
A barista who made a decent coffee at the team hotel. That was the secret weapon.
Oh boy, those other teams better watch out because we are really good at drinking coffee.
And then reality hits.
Hard to say how much I enjoyed this. Not because I’m mean. Just because, you know…
Okay. I guess I am mean.
Still, enjoy the Cup. I guess.
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