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Where were the dancing girls in body paint indicating their national allegiances, where were the youthful carnival drummers and the electric atmosphere at game after game and after in the town squares and streets?
Where was the awe inspiring skill on the field?
In all previous football World Cups, it has been about the party, the exuberance, the colour and singing and sheer joy of youth, in South Africa, it seemed to be all about a country saying “look at me, it’s all about me. Praise me!”
This is the first Football World Cup I have seen come to an end without a sense of loss.
Usually there is a lingering sorrow when a great international sporting event finishes. We are left alone on the wharf as the many ships sail away, and we know it will be years before we can feel that good and young and excited again.
We talk about it with the people we view it with, we talk about it at work, we love the sharing, the arguing, we adopt teams when ours falls.
The result in the end doesn’t matter as much as the experience.
In the Rugby World Cup in Sydney, it was a fantastic thing to see, even the singing and chanting and sheer bloody silliness of the Pommie fans made it special.
It was the same but different in France. Rugby has got it right so far.
And usually football gets it so right. It’s usually a beautiful event, and silly, and funny and controversial and passionate, and a little bit debauched.
Like a great sporting carnival and we all get to share it.
This time we were let down, this time it ends, and the feeling is … so what?
And South Africa must be regretting its bid. It wanted to throw a ball and be seen to be special, and it looked dull, miserable and lost. It looked vain, and nobody much went to the party. It wanted us to see how great it was, instead it looked dishonest and sad.
So I propose that Australia makes the next bid, because outside of Europe, whatever the political correct mafia say, Australia is the only place that can pull off the great, generous, fun filled celebration of youth.
And that galls me a little, because I’m not an Aussie.
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