So I Can Be Batman Now?

In light of what many of us grudgingly anticipated, corporations (which, as we know, are people, with hearts and brains and souls) can now exercise their religious convictions and flout democratically-enacted law whenever it interferes with the practice of said faith (even when that faith proves inconsistent with itself). To celebrate this new freedom, I plan to now break several different anti-vigilantism statutes as I don the cape and cowl in the name of Our Lord, Batman. Because that is my faith and I will brook no infringement upon it.

The fact that Antonin Scalia looks kind of like The Penguin leads me to believe that I should start at the Supreme Court. I'll teach him the meaning of Original Intent... Of Fear.

Batman out.

Sorry, Brazil (World Cup 2014)

 
I enjoy the Olympics theoretically. Spectacle is good, controversy is mildly better, but the athletics feel like filler. It's not that it's not impressive--it totally is and I couldn't dream of performing any of it even at an amateur level against asthmatic kindergartners. I'm just not terribly invested in people running or swimming or whatever the hell else is going on. The thing's a damp squib.

The World Cup, on the other hand, is about a sport I actually like and understand. And that makes all the difference. You still have spectacle, of course. And controversy: if you haven't already seen John Oliver's take on FIFA's truly Herculean corruption, it's worth thirteen minutes of your time. I, for one, am patiently waiting for Qatar 2022 to totally implode. And on top of all that, we also get a genuinely exciting game to watch with it.

Admittedly, part of me looks forward to the Cup because somewhere a Fox News personality is dusting off his incredulous face for all the attention the World Cup will get. "But it's soccer," he'll sneer (and it'll be a "he") and that just makes me want to watch more. More than that, though, it's surprisingly easy to get caught up in something when everyone around you is really, really into it. Even the most defiantly contrarian among us notice when a religious fervor sweeps through our peers, regardless of other identifying factors. You may not necessarily glom on to the thing in question, but only a terminally incurious person doesn't at least take a look for themselves. Deign to travel abroad and the American will find that, true to stereotype, that thing is soccer.

I came home with the foreign malady some years back, and it's hard to maintain the symptoms when the conditions for the virus aren't around you all the time (a shiny donkey to whoever who can point out exactly where I stretched that analogy too thin). The World Cup is a booster shot, gearing even apathetic Yanks back into the game. That's why I don't begrudge the bandwagoners. Half the reason I root for the USMNT is in the quixotic hope that a U.S. win will keep the celebration going and supplant other athletic fixations with the beautiful game (I mean, do we need hockey?). Knowing that even that won't do it allows me to cheer for England on the side without much guilt, another largely fruitless endeavor (I have my reasons). And though we're nothing if not hopeful, a lot of Americans develop an easy secondary attachment in soccer--Brazil, or Spain, or somebody else who may actually win. And it's not just international tournaments either--how many people prefer MLS to La Liga or the Premier League? That bet-hedging and internationalism probably does nothing to improve soccer's standing among its American detractors. And if I thought anything was likely to bring them around, I'd suggest we quit it.

So it's left to the rest of us to absorb the dichotomy of our love for this great sport and the organization that runs it. Sure, the NFL can be impressively shady, but it's a girl scout compared to FIFA. You'd think the reflexively anti-soccer crowd would cite FIFA or Sepp Blatter in their arguments, but that would involve rather more effort. And anyway, it hardly addresses the quality of the on-field portion of the sport. Still, whether it's the Olympics, the Super Bowl, or the World Cup, hosts get stiffed with a staggering bill and not much in terms of benefits. You know, aside from the fun of figuring out what do to with all those new stadiums and villages and airports. And the pride. Can't forget the pride. $11 billion worth of pride. SPORTS!

As for picking a winner, a kinder, sensitive soul might think Brazil is the way to go. After all the money they've spent and the nightmares they've endured, it just seems to give them a little ray of light, doesn't it? But then the ray of light is the story and everyone forgets how shitty it is to host such an event and no one--anywhere--learns any kind of lesson (no, I don't know why I feel people should be learning something). So I'm going with Portugal, because then you have a soccer megapower throwing a party for its former imperial overlord and the enormity of what's happened can't help but dawn on everybody. Also, Portugal at least has a shot at winning. Otherwise, for maximum facepalm, you choose somebody like Iran. Sorry to make you the fall guy, Brazil, it really isn't personal (I love churrasco!).

Enjoy the matches, everyone. 

(Image via Project Babb)