Well, it is. The World Cup is every marketing agency’s dream. According to FIFA, the final is watched by over 715 million people, with the tournament itself pulling in a whopping 2.2billion viewers. I’m not one for text speak, but this is one occasion where I won’t find the use of OMG! inappropriate.
I go mad at the World Cup. Crazy. I’m even looking forward to watching Greece verses the Korean Republic on Saturday, and I’ll no doubt cast an eye over New Zealand against Slovakia, those two powerhouses of the modern game. Tim Lovejoy expressed it perfectly when he described to Louise Redknapp the worst football match he had ever seen - “Amazing!” (I overheard him while my wife was watching Something For The Weekend...honest!)
Obviously, being born in India and raised in Wales, I’m pretty much neutral every time the World Cup comes around although I’m obviously rooting for England, but I don’t feel the pain and heartache that the die-hard English fans do. They feel it the same way that I would if Wales were involved, but the last (and only) time we qualified was in 1958 and, let’s be Frank (okay, can I still be Garth?).
However, during the hype (on TV the other day we saw a football-based ad in every single slot in a break. Every single one!) you can’t help but pick up on it, even if you don’t have football-radar eyes and ears like mine. For instance, I bought some clementines from the supermarket the other day and was traeted to a small pack of football cards that kids up and down the land will be poring over as we speak, the days stretching ever onwards before that magical first whistle is blown. I browsed through them, a tear coming dropping from my eye, reminiscing about Roger Milla in 1990 and Ray Houghton in 1994, when I discovered a Chilean player that may have finally resolved my allegiance issue. Sorry England, this guy is just too cool.
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