Many are hoping and praying that this weekend comes quickly.
World Cup. And not just World Cup. But World Cup in South Africa.
Back in the early 80’s, we wouldn’t expect to see World Cup in S Africa, or the Olympics in Beijing.
We were still standing on this side of the Wall at the time.
I click on PROFORMICA every morning to read Vietnam-related news.
And the site shows a fruit vendor in cone hat, with cane over her shoulder, and a straw basket on each end.
It begs the question:
the fruit vendor and the soccer player.
Both are hard at what they do: sweating it out .
Yet, how much utilitarian value do we get one from the other?
Why do we as a society reward so much prestige , power and the purse to the players more than the vendors?
Your answer is players got skills.
And they at the top of their game.
My reply: but the vendor will still sell me fruits after World Cup is over (satisfy my hunger.)
The players will be long gone, if not forgotten.
Yet, you could argue that the players command a larger audience, while my vendor will only be there for prospects on her daily route.
OK. So the players command a larger audience.
How? Satellite television coverage, paid for by the advertisers.
Now, we got to the heart of global trade. Both are vendors, but one relies on high-tech (digital) and the other low-tech (analog, her voice).
It just that the players are the service layer, a front, for a much thicker stacks of middle suppliers of soap, soup and cereal.
Over the next month, many of us, male, will be sitting at the altar of the gods (tourism and consumerism).
Black, white and anything in between (global audience, in HDTV).
And we will salivate at Pavlovian beef (or no beef).
It’s our reunion. It’s our male-bonding ritual, celebrating our being alive and our addiction to speed, coordination, team work and excellence.
It’s a month-long of WE, not ME.
That’s what sports is. Pointing up to the direction where we would like very much to self-project. What color will you be wearing? and preferably, what number?