Robert Robus on soccer

Soccer is a thrilling and glorious sport, though I've never deigned to play it myself. Were the ball to come my way, of course, I would quickly evanesce; but players such as Cristiano Ronaldo seem to do all right. The object of the game is to score a point, or "goal," the which is accomplished by smashing the ball with one's foot until it hits the netting. (One may also use one's head, of course, though said technique is rumored to be less than salutary to one's cortex.)

I talked about the sport to an Englishman the other Saturday, and he claimed the sport was called "football." I retorted that soccer and football were completely different entities, and that, if one does not wear a helmet and shoulder pads and catch an oblong pill, or "ball," then one is not playing football. The Englishman rolled his eyes and walked away. Then I tried to convince a Spaniard that the sport commonly referred to as "fútbol" in his native land should really be called "soccero." My reception was equally sarcastic; and I, Robert Robus, have not a clue why.

While I myself am not a sportive gentleman, I must admit I enjoy watching soccer. Since it was not my wish to be trampled by a legion of enthusiastic fans, however (and I, Robert Robus, seem to possess a marked proclivity for getting trampled by enthusiastic sports fans), I decided to watch the World Cup from my abode. In any event, one thing is clear: whether one calls it soccer or football, it's a decided gas of a time! Tartar and I have been watching all the games--he eating doughnuts, I salad--and rooting for all our favorite teams. While I must admit that it is out of character for such a personage as I, Robert Robus, to take part in such activities, I do send telegrams during commercial breaks and call for my fiddlers three at halftime. So it is verily not that odd.

Please return another day for more vauntiferous musings from the desk of I, Robert Robus.