As World Cup’s went though, I’d ALWAYS watch the final match – also distinctly remember doing some arbitrary chore at a silly hour of the morning when Brazil won the Cup against .... memory fails me, but it was the 90’s, possibly 1994 so please forgive me? I cannot remember the others and for the life of me, if I hadn’t done a competition campaign for the WC in the past month I wouldn’t have known who the reigning champions were either. Why? You may ask... cause I stopped watching for the game and have since watched purely for my own visual satisfaction. WOW! Those bodies are sculpted to absolute perfection, I couldn’t really care what their faces look like as that would just be the cherry on the top, you feel me? [those of the male species would understand my sentiment]
Either way, let’s put it this way – I distinctly remember the moment we heard that the 2010 WC would be held in SA. Now I’m no political genius, actually I participate, watch and read less about the topic than I do soccer. Those guys couldn’t get my attention if they choked me while taking my money and telling me it’s for my own good. Oh wait, they’re already doing that, still – haven’t found any of them even remotely visually stimulating, rather visually vomatible [I know the word does not exist – but if Jade (America’s next top model season who knows ) can make up her own words, so can I]. Also, the most basic price of EVERYTHING has gone up. Alcohol and cigarettes – indulgences – I understand, but food, fuel, gas... why?
Needless to say, I haven’t been particularly patriotic or supportive, just going with the flow type thing. Apparently this city is the liveliest of all in SA at the moment. For the past month, people have had flag’s (of all country’s) sometimes 2 or 3, protruding from their car windows or aerials or both. Nauseating I tellya. Houses, schools and businesses have flags on their properties. Every single f&#ing street corner vendor sold flags, mirror covers, vuvuzela’s (all the memorabilia imaginable), everywhere, in fact they still are. In every single shop, on every single website in every single Mall, SA was making the most – no taking absolutely every single opportunity to exploit this. Every Friday since April... I think... has been dubbed “Soccer Friday” where everyone gets to wear their Bafana Bafana T-Shirt or jersey to work and school. Uuuuum WTF! Seriously.
Problem is, today while driving into work, I saw the most interesting garden display – okay, I have seen this display for weeks already and only today did it actually pull me toward it, make me stop my car and take a picture on my phone, then slowly drive away.
I suddenly felt this overwhelming feeling then heard this voice saying “Dude, the soccer world cup is here! In your country! On your doorstep! Are you actually going to let it pass you by without glancing at it, even just for a little while?” Coincidentally, I get to work and there’s these yellow things on my desk. A beanie and a scarf, in support of our team. I thought that was quite cute, then I get this mini vuvuzela “weird” too. I’m dressed for work, btw – jean’s, smart top and high heeled boots. I’d heard that there was to be a “blowing of vuvuzela’s” in support of our home team and the WC being here. Didn’t have a clue why I had to walk to a parade where the team would be (2min drive from the office = 35min walk in high heeled boots). They were kidding right? WRONG!
We walked, but while doing so, there were other companies, people, households – everyone participating, walking and blowing their vuvuzela’s. Drivers were hooting, passengers and some drivers were blowing their vuvuzela’s too. Apparently there were 185 000 people in our area today, this excludes the other centre's around and out of town.
The atmosphere was awe inspiring and an experience I will never forget. That made me feel a tinge of sadness when we returned to the office, but my legs and feet who were carrying me completely ungraciously toward our destination, were certainly grateful for the end of the torturous journey.
It was the first time I had actually participated and supported (just a tad) something for and in SA. I was born and raised here, but I never wanted to be and for the first time in my life, I was actually proud to be South African.
But I wouldn’t post that shit on my Facebook page or tweet about it.
When we finally got back to the office, I sat down to try regain feeling and relieve the pain in my calves and feet when I read a news post that some foreign journalists were held up at gun point in their lodge last night. Well, that was the extent and end of my good deed for the month. I did my duty as a South African and remembered why it pains me to think of what some of our leaders are doing to this wonderful country. The one I had to learn [the hard ugly way] to appreciate and treasure.
I’ll not try predict the winning team, but definitely cannot wait to see Italy, Brazil, Germany and Spain’s hotties all sweaty and gorgeous in those short pants. Damn... the leg muscle, OMG – when they take their shirts off and reveal their abs and that special muscle at the bottom which induces involuntary salivation. Haven’t a clue what it’s called though - I call it the “OMG you have that sexy muscle!” muscle. Maybe I’ll actually watch the opening match this time... we get off work early either way so may as well check it out as most conversations have some kind of soccer connotation to them lately... Wonder the fuck why?
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