Spoilsports

Unlike most of North America (and a large percentage of their blogospherical representation) I'm not about to pretend that I am oblivious to the World Cup. Granted, I may not be able to hold forth for hours on the intricacies of the Offside rule in the same way that I can discuss the evolution of Cadbury's in the late 20th Century, but that doesn't mean I'm about to pass up on the opportunity to partake in the part-y.

You don't even have to like, nay, understand The Beautiful Game: Just acknowledge that it makes a refreshing change to see everyone all fired up about matters other than politics, misery and mayhem in these 'ere parts. And everyone to their own: For example, while I am not inspired to wear St. George's flags as earrings like some Tourguides I could mention, I'm nevertheless finding myself somewhat infected by the spirit. And I maintain, that's not a bad thing.

Exhibit A: See what fun there is to be had getting creative with fruit? Desert from the World Cup-themed Birthday Dinner of one allegedly jaundiced commenter

Meanwhile, this week I've learned that a ridiculous majority of (both sides of) Jerusalem seem to be backing Brazil, and support for the Iranian team is on the wane on the eastern side of the city. And I've learned that even people who don't understand English remain more updated about Wayne Rooney's medical status than I will ever be.

And finally, upon catching two ultra-orthodox teenagers attempting to retrieve their football from over the leisure center wall, I re-learned a time honoured and timely truth: Startled by my uncharachteristically confrontational "Excuse me, boys, what do you think you're doing?" (having watched them hoist themselves up onto a makeshift wooden platform, gaining a full view of the Ladies Only hour) they were resolute not only in their desperation to get their ball back and continue their game, but also in their purest intentions.

"Oh- you thought we were peeking! Of course we weren't looking! We just want our ball!" entreated one. "And anyway, we much prefer football to any of that!" assured the other, with a cheeky smile.

I would hope that even those out there who think that "football" is a game using your hands, resembling rugby yet played in padded suits and protective helmets with cheerleaders, Justin Timberlake and commercial breaks every ten seconds would find that sentiment strikes a chord. Enjoy the positive energy while it lasts.