Are You Watching?

If you haven't noticed yet, there's a World Cup on. I think that you should be watching avidly, and if you think otherwise, I offer the following nine reasons to change your mind:

1. The Value of a Goal
Consider this: In twenty-nine World Cup matches thus far, there have been an average of 2.24 goals per game total for an average score of 1.86 to .38. This means that a goal is an enormous accomplishment with an enormous impact on the tone of the game. I will even risk over-superlativizing and say that a goal in soccer is more significant than any single action in any other sport. The one thing that comes to mind as being close is a home run in baseball, but only three run dingers and grand slams really compare.

The hugeness of a goal means two things: First, any time a team is pressuring on offense and possessing the ball around the goal, the tension level goes through the roof. One single touch of the ball can change the entire game - and even the entire tournament - so you watch on the edge of your seat, waiting for that huge and rare moment. Second, once the ball is in back of the net, the impact is accordingly gigantic. The celebrations are positively insane, and frequently put NFL showboat touchdown celebrations to absolute shame. The fans go completely insane, and the players jump and hug and dance and do really ridiculous things like, for instance, pulling a yellow spiderman mask out of their shorts and putting it on their head. So yes, while goals are rare, they are well worth it.

2. All the Things That Aren't Goals
Soccer is, let's be honest, downright un-American. The scoring is absurdly low, the action is extremely fluid and unstructured, and there are almost no statistics. As such, you must pry your brain away from the results-addicted nature of American sports and reorient it to fall in love with the art of potential. Soccer is all about potential. A great cross that is headed over the goal is not a failure, it's a brilliant success because next time, it might go in. A simple one-touch pass between two defenders that advances the ball but doesn't result in a shot is not meaningless, it's a well-executed application of pressure, a searching for an opening. Making a great run on a give-and-go is beautiful even if the ball is turned over six touches later. These are highlight-reel moments, equivalent to a double-play or a breakaway dunk, but they don't result in any measurable outcome, so they frequently go unappreciated. Learn to love the thousand moments of perfectly unrealized potential, and you will find yourself enjoying the game.

3. Ties
Yeah, yeah, I know, the tie - and especially the 0-0 tie - is one of the many reasons that Americans hate soccer. In the group stage of the World Cup, however, the tie can be crucial and downright exciting. There are eight groups, four teams per group. In each group, the teams all play each other, and are awarded three points for a win and one point for a tie, and the top two teams advance to the next round. This means that when tiny underdog Trinidad and Tobago plays European power Sweden to a scoreless tie, it is a huge triumph, because the upstart Caribbeans were not even expected to earn a point in group play. The fans go crazy as the Toboggans (okay, that's wrong, but it's what I'm calling them) thwart shot after shot from the relentless Swedes, and when the game is over, Trinidad and Tobago celebrate like they've won the Super Bowl. This is compelling sport despite the lack of goals.

4. International Intrigue
This is a worldwide event, so you've got compelling non-soccer storylines that add to the interest of the games. This year, the presence of the Iranian team offered some interest, because if Iran advanced to the second round, there was the possibility that Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad would come to Germany to see the game. Mr. Ahmadinejad, however, is an outspoken denier of the existence of the Holocaust, which in Germany is a serious crime, so Iran's group games had an overtone of "potential international incident" written all over them. The players, however, were not up to the task, and the Iranians will not advance. In the Ivory Coast, a revolution has effectively been put on hold during the cup, which is pretty impressive. And it's always a little extra-tense when two teams play whose countries have fought a war in the last twenty years (See England vs. Argentina: 2002, soccer; 1982, Falkland Islands).

5. The Language
Unfortunately, most of the matches broadcast in the U.S. this year are being called by U.S. announcers. They're doing a pretty reasonable job, but it's hard to beat European - specifically British - commentators. First, they refer to national teams in the plural, as in, "England are looking to go ahead here." Beyond that, non-American announcers use wonderful, almost intellectual terms when describing a match. A cross isn't amazing, it's brilliant or clever. It's not "a spectacular pass," it's "a useful touch." An unexpected touch on the ball isn't crazy it's "cheeky." With Argentina leading the Ivory Coast 2-1, British announcer Adrian Healey noted that "The air just exudes an aroma of goals today." Keith Jackson has nothing on these guys.

And the soccer journalists are similarly detailed and quirky in their accounting of matches. As in: "The interval scoreline was harsh on the Ivorians, who sped about the pitch like lightning bolts and created a series of half chances, all of which went begging. But, just as the life was starting to ebb from their legs, Drogba turned home an Arthur Boka cut-back eight minutes from time and from that moment on, Argentina were the ones hanging on." Beauty on the pitch, beauty on the page. Nice work.

6. The Beauty of the Game
As in goals like this:


And this:


And, even though it was against the U.S., this:


Also because of not-goals like this:


7. The Names
You just can't make up names like these:
Zinedine Zidane (France)
Razak Pimpong (Ghana)
Shaka Hislop (Trinidad and Tobago)
Aldo Bobadilla (Paraguay)
Loco (Angola)
Gilles Yapi Yapo (Ivory Coast)
Haykel Guemamdia (Tunisia)
Josip Skoko (Australia)
Dejan Stankovic (Serbia and Montenegro)
Dado Prso (Croatia)
Bastian Schweinsteiger (Germany)
Zlatan Ibrahimovic (Sweden)

Add to this nearly the entire Brazilian team, most of whom embrace the national tradition of going, Madonna-like, by only one name, as in: Kaka, Cafu, Dida, Ronaldinho, Robinho, Ronaldo, and yes, seriously, no kidding, Fred.

The good old U.S. is a little behind the cool-names curve (no thanks to the likes of white-breads John O'Brien, Eddie Johnson and Eddie Lewis), but we're slowly catching up with help from Steve Cherundolo, Carlos Bocanegra, and Oguchi Onyewu. I am disappointed, nay, dismayed, that Onyewu has not demanded to be referred to as "The Gooch" in the press.

Not to be outdone, the coaches have some solid names to offer. Consider Togo's Otto Pfister and the Argentina's Jose Pekerman. If these teams ever play each other, thousands of ten-year old boys (and me) will suffer near-fatal giggling attacks during the pregame discussion of the Pfister-Pekerman battle.

8. How Freaking Far the Goalies Kick The Ball
Seriously, we're talking sixty, seventy yards in the air, either from a punt or from a goal kick off the ground. It's impressive every single time.

9. The Game Times
This year, games are generally on at 9 a.m., noon, and 3 p.m. I mean, what are you doing during the day anyway? Working?