
The World Cup in South Africa conjures up a medley of rhythm, dance, magnificent skies, and limitless space.
It echoes the beginning of time. Surely all great athletes must have originated from its deep, baked, joyous soul and made the world run wild and catch its breath in the long grasses.
Decedents now flock to its shores gushing with pride, dashingly handsome to display flair and true artistry, caressing and stroking the lightweight golden ball hoping to proclaim, “This land is mine.”
England’s Trial
England’s special relationship with the United States will fracture if strikers Robbie Findley and Edson Buddle help boot England out of Africa, and the Yanks won’t come home till its over, over there.
England manager Fabio Capello says, “You can have a French man-ogre, a Scotch man-ogre, a Brazilian man-ogre. That is the little ‘English spirit’ that I want to see.”
It appears that the English spirit is now what Mr. Capello fears has always been lacking—that intelligent non-physical part of a person’s soul, especially after the warmup game in Graz against Japan, followed by the display against the South African club side Platinum Stars where it’s claimed Capello didn’t mix his words.
Good luck to the boys from the green and pleasant land, with their $150,000 weekly spending money, for far too long their forerunners Stanley Matthews & Co. suffered mean returns.
Nevertheless the process of the weakening of the spirit that comes with excessive wealth and comfort depletes the moral severity and all the accompanying unseen forces that bind and galvanize team spirit on.
There was a time when it was mentioned that the English are coming really caused a stir—not anymore.
But hope springs eternal. A famous general once said, “Give me the Irish and Scotch to get it and the English to hold it.”





















