Cote d'Ivoire wearing green and Brazil in Yellow. 0 - 0 tie for a long time. I'm looking in the refrigerator and Brazil scores! Halftime. No one has EVER come back to beat Brazil when they're leading at halftime, in the history of the WORLD.
That funny sound isn't because of cheap microphones, as once suggested, but because every single person in the stadium is blowing on a plastic horn called a vuvuzela. If you close your eyes, I guess, you could imagine it's New Years. At least it's not bagpipes! Some people absolutely freak out because of the vuvuzelas. They say because it sounds like a swarm of killer bees. There are two types of people, I've found. Those who enjoy the vuvuzela and those who despise it. Which are you? Maybe American sports fans, particularly football, should adopt the vuvuzelas at their contests! One positive it would have is that while you've got that thing in your mouth you're not downing quarts of beer and hotdogs. So there is an upside, healthwise. Though it's probably not good for the hearing. Plus, I'd bet Americans would make a battery-powered version of the vuvuzela so that they could continue to drink beer and eat hotdogs. And those might be even louder. I'm sorry I mentioned it!
Now it's the second half. Brazil scores again! And again! Finally Ivory Coast scores. Now it's a game! But then fights break out. An old-fashioned Donnybrook. Kaka gets a red card! "Caca" yell the Brazilian players at the officials. Where's the instant replay? Answer: Soccer hasn't yet been RUINED by instant replay, like American sports. Though guys laying all over the field like it's a Civil War reenactment isn't a very pretty sight, either. Is it THAT rough out there? Then get some pads. Or are they just flopping like a bunch of trout? If that's that case, then there really is no hope. Look, I can't even get up to get a beer until halftime and I already missed four goals, so while I'm sitting here, I expect to see action, not a bunch of guys writhing in pain. And if it's fake, well, that's the other thing that's ruined American sports: bad acting, or good acting... in a word: acting. Save it for the dinner theatre, guys.