Last night I had dinner with a friend who's never had much of an itch for sports, and he mentioned how much he was enjoying the World Cup. It occurred to me to include him as a test subject in my ongoing Dull-Off Debate, but I thought better of it because he thinks all sports are boring. I honestly think he'd watch Manning-to-Burress at the end of Super Bowl XLII and ask, "That's good, right?"
Which of course depends. If you grew up in New Jersey idolizing Harry Carson and think even Voldemort has a tough time saying "Pisarcik," then yes. If you support a team led by a cheating jerkface with a complete charismectomy, not so much.
During this Juneblop I've spilled a lot of pixels trying to 1) defend baseball as absolutely nonboring, and 2) squirt children's Tylenol down the throat of World Cup Fever. It would figure that today, when I take it up over at DadCentric, New Zealand scores one of most improbable equalizers in the history of anything, and my alma mater gets spanked out of the College World Series in the dullest, most humiliating way possible.
But hey. That's sports. It's drama without scripts. Sometimes you're the truncated icosahedron, sometimes you're the foot.