Was it always thus?

7 06 2010

We see two interpretations of the headline “Measuring your life in World Cup milestones“. 

Interpretation number one;  the world cup is an important thing.

Interpretation number two;  if you think your life can be divided into world cups your values are so far out of kilter with polite society you should never go out.

The Jet Set prefers the first interpretation so we got to thinking; how would the article look like if we wrote it? We had a think about it and saw the article to as a chance to rediscover lost joys. It would be chance go beyond the cynicism and bullshit that plague the mind of the Jet Set. Could we do it?

Our story would start with Espana ’82. The only thing we recall about this tournament Czechoslovakia, proudly their  badge in the middle of their chest,s versus somebody. We seemed to enjoy Mexico ’86. Luis Fernandez was a hero and we liked Maradona’s dribble around Belgium but this one‘s a bit hazy too. 

Our memories were limited at this stage but our love was total. Ladybird books were our Mills and Boon, Panini provided the glue in our relationship and a film called Hero was our Pretty Woman.

For some reason we were thrilled by Italia ’90 and we tried not to miss a game. It was all great, from the rush home to watch Cameroon v Argentina, to supporting Germany, to cursing Gary Lineker’s second penalty against Cameroon, to marvelling at Yugoslavia v Argentina. With help from Match we kept a world cup log book.

Following USA ’94 led to unexpected failure in the lower Sixth Form exams, watching Holland v Saudi Arabia at midnight isn’t ideal preparation. In this world cup our main interests were cheering on Romania’s opponents and hoping that Italy would get dumped on their arses (a smug acquaintance had tipped them). Seeing a goal collapse in a Mexico v Bulgaria match and watching the Police chase OJ Simpson during the Switzerland v USA indoor match are two of our more cherished memories from this tournament. One month after the tournament ended we left our school, shamefaced and dishevelled.

We spent  the 1998 and 2002 World Cups ensconced in leafy academia. During this period we slowly fell out of love with the simple joy of watching international football. The world cup now seemed to transform erudite sophisticates into laddish xenophobes. This sordid sense will never be expunged from our psyche, the disappointment is burnt into our memory. It’s disappointment is on the grandest scale imaginable, the failure of humanity to aspire to a dignified existence

During the last two world cups we have gradually felt the taint of hysteria upon society’s shoulders, it goes without saying that the situation is now almost intolerable. As you will have noticed, this time we’re trying to ignore the world but resistance is futile when you’re surrounded by gingerbread men wearing rice paper England kits.

If the Jet Set were  measuring its life in world cup milestones it would show an early descent into grumpiness.




2 responses

7 06 2010

They’ve got form (Starts at 8:10) and here too

7 06 2010

USA ’94 was out favourite. The tone was somewhat raised by a certain country’s abscense.

Sadly they’ve qualified this time: Fucking New Zealand.

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