MISSING YOU ALREADY, WORLD CUP 2022...! BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©


 

MISSING YOU ALREADY, WORLD CUP 2022…!

BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

Aw. I feel bereft today. The 2022 World Cup ended yesterday, the eighteenth of December, and now all I have to look forward to is Christmas with its tons of great presents, the FATHER TED Christmas special on telly and more delicious grub than you could shake a stick at. As I said, aw…!

The four weeks of exciting football and football excitement really took my mind off the pelting rain, the freezing cold, all the talk of future gas shortages and the sight of people on the News stocking up on little primus/camping stoves from the ‘outdoors’ and camping shops, just in case we’re facing into a new, Putin-led Armageddon.

2022 hasn’t exactly been the greatest year ever for good news, has it? It was the year Russia declared war on Ukraine, and we here in Ireland should know this because we’ve taken in about 65,000 Ukrainian refugees to date. We still have killer virus COVID-19 with us; I presume Monkeypox hasn’t gone away yet; and now we have something else horrible called Strep A targeting our younger children as well.  

As for the dreaded climate change, well, if 2022 with its landslides, earthquakes, tsunamis, blizzards, forest fires, sinkholes, floods, volcanic eruptions and unexplained building collapses hasn’t convinced you yet that we’re in serious trouble here, then it probably never will, and you’ll die surprised and screaming, ‘no-one told me anything like this was gonna happen…! Why wasn’t anyone expecting this?

On a personal level, this will be mine and my kids’ first Christmas in five years without any hamsters in the house at all. Our last hammies passed away in October, a week or two before Halloween, and, much as we’d like to rush out and fill the house with furry friends again, we’ve each agreed that the depths of a very cold, wet winter mightn’t be the best time to bring a new pet- or pets- into the house.

So, anyway, you can see why it was nice to have the World Cup to break things up a bit this year. Except for the fact that, this year, it wouldn’t be held in the summer holidays as usual, which was, well, a bit unusual. When it’s held in July, it gives my teenage son and myself something to do together and bond over, and we have all the time in the world to stay up late and watch it, instead of having to worry about getting up for school. (Not that I do; my alarm clock’s broken.)

This year, it was held in the month of December, something to do with the host country Qatar’s extremely hot climate, I think. How did Qatar, a dictatorship, one of the Arab nations, get to host such a prestigious event, anyway? It might have been something to do with the two hundred million dollars they shelled out on their bid, but don’t quote me on that.

Lots of controversy surrounded Qatar’s bid and hosting of the event. Apparently, you’re not allowed to be gay in Qatar, went the rumour mill, and you could be stoned to death for your trouble. Women had to cover themselves completely if they wanted to go out in public, and God help you if you were caught boozing it up in a country that forbade alcohol. Migrant workers in Qatar were dirt-poor and subject to terrible human rights abuses. At least one of these rumours turned out to be completely and utterly true.

Former football star David Beckham apparently accepted a hefty sum of money to act as ambassador to this particular World Cup, then people gave him a hard time for taking money to say that Qatar was a great place to be and to come on yer holliers to. Three little words, Dave… human rights abuses…

This was a strange World Cup for football, never mind politics. For one thing, Italy didn’t qualify for the tournament, despite having beaten England to the title of Euros winners of 2021. So relieved were us Irish at England’s loss (sorry, England!) that chants of ‘Donnarumma, he’s shaggin’ your ma!’ could be heard all night on the streets of Dublin.

Something very strange was going on with Portugal. Their captain and main star, Cristiano Ronaldo, had been recently sacked by Manchester United Football Club, for a combination of petulant, unsporting behaviour on the pitch and that television interview with his long-time friend and fan, Piers Morgan. (I’ve hero-worshipped and lusted after Ronaldo since 2012, but even I think he shouldn’t have done that career-killing interview behind his bosses’ backs. Poor form, Ronnie baby, poor form.)

Portugal boss Fernando Santos put Baby in the corner, I mean, Ronaldo on the bench, for their ‘Last 16’ match against Switzerland. A nifty young Portuguese player called Goncalo Ramos scored a hat-trick, and suddenly everyone was saying that Portugal didn’t need Ronaldo any more; the new young generation, in the form of this Ramos wunderkind, was already here. How that must have stung Ronaldo, and him being in the twilight of his career and all.

Strangely enough, in their next match, a quarter final, Portugal showed none of this remarkable new-found gumption and pizazz and lost to Morocco, a team enjoying its first taste of World Cup success. 

Without congratulating the Moroccan team (who also knocked out Spain), Ronaldo fled down the tunnel by himself, in floods of tears, an action that’ll probably haunt him to the end of his days. Certainly, his enemies and detractors will never let him live it down. I think this might just have been his worst World Cup ever. He confirmed on social media that it would be his last. Where next for the one-time footballing legend? We await further developments with bated breath…

Anyway, France did Ireland a solid and kicked England out of the tournament with a game that saw England captain Harry Kane miss that penalty towards the end of play. Did you see Mbappe’s laughing face when the ball soared over the net and into outer space?

Ze French having finally done their duty by us Irish, we were then quite happy for Lionel Messi’s Argentina to beat France in the final. Let’s not forget Thierry Henry and that handball in 2009, harrumph. We Irish receive special training that helps us never to put that fateful night out of mind. Lest we forget…

France’s Kylian Mbappe scored three wonderful goals in the final, the first two within the same two minutes, but the Argies just kept pushing and pushing and pushing and, ultimately, it was Lionel Messi who got to wear the see-through chiffon nightdress of success, lovingly placed on his body by no less a personage than the Emir of Qatar himself, whose bloodline can be traced back about one hundred and seventy years. Fancy that, lol.

Anyway, I don’t think too many people will begrudge Messi & Company their brilliant, hard-won win. And hard-won it was, right down to the wire. Thirty-six long years it’s been since Argentina won this trophy, and it’s Lionel Messi’s first time to claim it. If he wants to retire now, he can do so knowing that he’s won every title and trophy going.

Irish coverage of the final ended with a mention of all the stadium-building migrant workers who had suffered, even died, so that Qatar could bring us what some people are calling the best and most exciting World Cup ever. Quite right to bring that up; if we consider ourselves a decent country, then we must call it as we see it.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself now that STRICTLY COME DANCING and World Cup 2022 have ended on the same weekend. I only have Christmas to occupy myself with now, as I said earlier. Ah well shure. I can always break into the old selection box a few days early. Wait a minute, this one’s been interfered with already. Someone’s only gone and nicked me Crunchie…

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