World Cup

A Lebanese Whine, an Italian Wine

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The games have started, and unfortunately, so has the coverage. What am I going to do with these announcers? For a moment, I’ll be xenophobic or what have you and say it: what am I going to do with these American announcers? Some of them might be British, but believe me, they are American. No one on ESPN does play by play anymore.

It would have been nice if there was less chatter and more “Dos Santos passes to Rafa who gives the ball to Blob, I mean Blanco.”

After listening to Daniel’s father calling a game on audio, the announcers today seemed especially irritating.

There was a point when one of the announcers said something like, “We haven’t mentioned Vela’s name since the first fifteen minutes of the game.” 

I screamed back at the television, “No $x*&! You haven’t mentioned anything of significance since the game started, you ^*&%^%#(*^&%$!”

And then it was time for my medication.

While watching a game during the 1990 tournament in Italy, the ABC (I think it was ABC) announcers spent about ten minutes discussing the different wines they consumed the previous night at dinner.

“My Chianti was smooth and fruity.”

“I’ve never had a better Dolcetto.”

I think that was the day I began to scream at my television.

What the hell were they doing? Chianti? Chianti?

Everybody knows that a Barolo goes much better with risotto.

I know I can turn down the volume, but then a soccer game without crowd noise isn’t the same. Without the vuvuzelas?

I could watch the Spanish channels, which is what I do during the season, but I get ESPN in high definition, but not the others. It’s a conspiracy.

I know, there are bigger problems in the world than my annoyance with the ESPN announcers. Hell, there are bigger problems in the World Cup than the announcers! Can you say Domenech? Or worse, can you say Blatter?

Leon is right about that ball, too. Its flight looks really strange.

Still, being a fan is being able to whine without guilt. I don’t care if there are other problems right now. Let the players worry about the most recent update of the Ball from Hell. Let the French worry about Dull Domenech.

My fandom is all about me.

How am I going to watch the tournament with these silly announcers? 

Rabih Alameddine is a novelist. His most recent is An Unnecessary Woman.

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