The World Cup

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The World Cup
Ah, the World Cup. The passion, the patriotism, the excitement, the athleticism—the boys. As another World Cup comes to a close (sniff), I find myself pining for the wonderful men who made the games so worth watching—not so much for how they played as how they looked while playing. Ladies, you know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about sinewy, agile bodies leaping into the air, hurling toward the ball, high kicking, running, colliding. I’m talking about sweat-soaked shirts clinging to lean torsos. And after the game is over, the sweaty shirts come off. Seriously, what more could a girl (and a few boys I know) ask for? You didn’t need to understand the rules of the game to enjoy the World Cup, you just needed a pair of eyes and a beating heart. Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m a serious fan of the sport. Having played high-school soccer, (or football as it shall be henceforth called), I am well versed in the game. And when it comes to the World Cup, I give new meaning to the word, “fanatic.” For four weeks my life is given over to it, my entire identity wrapped up in it. I preset all the appropriate TV channels, designate the FIFA World Cup Website as my Web browser home page. I download pictures, print out lineups and schedules, study the stats, record the games. I am a full-blown FIFA geek. A Trekkie of the World Cup—a Cuppie. And when it comes to the boys of the World Cup, I’m just as serious—a Cuppie-Groupie, you might say. I have all my beauties in a desktop slide show so I may gaze upon their godliness as I work. I’m positively eighth-grade about it. You had only to watch the matches or click through the photos on fifaworldcup.com to know what I mean. Who needs rock starts when you have sexy Zidane (FRA), handsome Totti (ITA), adorable Ronaldo (POR), bad boy Frings (GER)? With all that beauty, it was hard to concentrate on the game. While some teams had their star hottie, others like Italy, had an entire squad of gorgeous men. Beyond Beckham, beauty was not limited to the top teams. Did you see some of the boys from Togo or Iran? Good golly. The Japanese team looked like a boy band complete with pop-star haircuts. But I’m barely scratching the surface and could easily exceed my word count just listing names. It begs the question: Is handsome a prerequisite in football? Do you have to look good on camera before you get the gig? Is it just one of those Alpha male phenomena (powerful AND beautiful)—God’s little way of letting us know that some people are just better than the rest of us mere mortals? Or maybe, it’s simply that a muscular man in motion will always seem hotter than say, the chubby guy slumping on the couch next to you.   It occurs to me, as a football-starved American, that much of what I have said here is so much yesterday’s news to the rest of the world. Elsewhere on the globe, posters of campo cuties have graced girls’ wall for generations. It irks me no end that the game has yet to catch on in the U.S., and I fear this World Cup won’t make much of a difference. Maybe the U.S. team just wasn’t sexy enough. Did they need an American Luca Toni or Andriy Shevchenko to help boost ratings stateside? I know yours truly would have paid more attention. But when it came to choosing sides during the ITA/USA game, it was no contest—we sided with the hotter guys. Forza Italia. And that’s the beauty of football, ladies. If you were watching a World Cup match that did not involve your team, no need to be disinterested. You had only to pick the team with the cuter players and cheer your heart out. They often won. Case in point: A woman from Munich, when asked whom she favored (France or Italy) to win in the World Cup finals said, "I am convinced that Italy will win…because not only do they play the best football, but they also have the most attractive players."* Sometimes I would choose one special player and root for him. The only problem was the inevitable heartbreak when his team was eliminated. One by one I lost them: Mirzapour (IRA), Prso (CRO), Nedved (CZE), Marquez (MEX), Ljungberg (SWE), Reyes (ESP), Essien (GHA), Saviola (ARG), Terry (ENG), Figo (POR). During the semi-finals I was rooting for France simply because I couldn’t bear to lose sight of my beloved Zizou, especially since this was my last chance to see him play. Imagine how I felt, when after he had made it all the way to the finals, his little stunt sent him home early anyway—and in disgrace. (Oh, I just made myself cry.) In the end, just as the German woman predicted, it was the “attractive” boys of Italy who prevailed. Was it skill or beauty that put them at the top? Certainly, they had plenty of both. And certainly, this Cuppie-Groupie didn’t mind a full four weeks watching them strut their sinewy, agile, sweaty, shirt-clingy stuff. For me, those were the greatest weeks of 2006. What ever shall I do with myself now that it’s all over? Guess I’ll go download some more pictures. *Source: fifaworldcup.com ——————————————————— THE GIRLS’ ULTIMATE WORLD CUP TEAM* In tribute to the best of the best of…
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