COMMENT: Every four years I get engrossed in this game that just about all the world loves. I don't love it. Dribbling a ball at my feet did nothing for me as a kid and on television it normally leaves me cold. But four mornings this week I got up before dawn to watch its World Cup, spell-bound.
Often I wondered, what is holding me here? The games seemed aimless for an hour or more. I was watching the clock with more interest than the play. I have to live through the struggle to enjoy the highlights. After 45 minutes of no scoring, half time felt like an achievement. Only if the score was tied at full time would I allow myself to fast forward to a goal in extra time, or more often this week, that farce called a penalty shoot-out.
It reduces the game to one of pure luck. Russia won a penalty shoot-out against Spain. For 120 minutes on the field Spain had made Russia look second rate. The Spaniards flicked the ball around among themselves, threading it here, hoofing it there, enjoying 80 per cent of possession and never bothering to get out of second gear.
Yet it was enthralling. Every morning it was enthralling. It is not the game, it is the event that appeals to me, is the contest of nations. The way a country plays football might not be a fair reflection of its national character, attitudes, culture and politics but that is what I'm watching.
No other team sport shows you so many different countries. The best in the round of 16 this week looked to be France and Belgium. France looked young, fast and lively when they beat Argentina, every bit the team of Emmanuel Macron. Poor Argentina. It is a country that looked to be coming right after electing disastrous left wing governments for so long. But after setting out to tackle inflation with sound monetary policies and liberalising parts of the economy, President Mauricio Macri is finding the going as tough as Lionel Messi did last Monday morning.