Curious Georgie: All that fuss for a few games of football?

World Cup fever has got me all a flutter, with houses decked out with flags, singing and dancing at the opening ceremony, it's almost too much to handle

A Brazil fan at the World Cup
A Brazil fan at the World Cup

Strange things have been afoot at Telfer Towers II this week.

The first puzzle came thanks to Big Bro Fred’s sudden and immediate obsession with Blu-Tac - or lack thereof - in our miscellaneous supplies cupboard.

Not often displaying dog-with-a-bone tendencies, Fred’s unflinching determination to procure a packet of the sticky stuff (which I can only assume comes from a steady supply of Smurf off-cuts) got my attention.

When he was unable to find any among the batteries, freezer bags, broken dog collars (we keep them, why?) and myriad of practical spoils from the past two decades of Christmas crackers, he moved onto the scary territory under the stairs... Dad’s DIY cupboard.

Resembling a small, but significantly and chaotically stocked branch of B&Q, the space under the staircase offers a ridiculously high chance of injury should you dare to open the door... and is therefore best avoided. So what could be so important, that Fred was willing to risk his life (or at least his big toes) for?

Football, apparently. Can you hear me rolling my eyes?

Having spent the past few weeks getting excited by sticking shiny stickers in a book (I thought that was just me) and enlisting Dad’s help to find online friends with which to exchange ‘swapsies’, Fred’s new focus was the yellow and green chart for his wall.

Hence the need for Blu-Tac.

“It HAS to be up there before the World Cup!” he pleaded with Mum, without giving any indication of what cataclysmic events would ensue if it remained laid out on the floor.

“AND IT’S STARTING ON THURSDAY!”

Rarely have I seen my big brother so excited. Aside from the day I arrived to complete his life, of course.

In addition, I can’t remember a time when Mum has seemed so non-plussed... but Dad says I’m not to worry. Her apathetic expression (and occasional sigh when she flicks through the Radio Times listings for the next couple of weeks) is apparently standard practice for a World Cup Widow.

And now I’m in full possession of the facts - and witnessed what can only be described as a technical shambles of an opening ceremony – I’m 100% in agreement with her attitude.

Did you all know that it’s just football, football, football?

No gymnastics, no tennis, no watersports, no throwing a variety of metal objects. Just football... and then some more football.

That’s hardly an equal opportunities tournament is it?

What about all ball players of the basket, net and dodge variety? Do they get a World Cup hooplah complete with sticker books, new stadiums, Jennifer Lopez and a rapper called Pitbull?

It’s outrageous. As soon as I work out who can sort redressing the balance, you can be sure I’ll be writing a letter... or at least fashioning some sort of potato print to illustrate my displeasure.

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