The rest of the summer schedule is of limited interest for those who are not following the soccer championship, writes ANN MARIE HOURIHANE
IT'S NOT that the World Cup is not interesting. Who could fail to be transfixed by the Uruguayan national anthem, to select only one of the weekend's highlights? The anthem, which seemed to come straight from the mountains of Ruritania and makes Ireland's Callsound like Don't Want to Holiday in The Sun. And even those of us who are not soccer fans are aware of the tradition which dictates that thereis always one unfortunate England player whose life is ruined by a World Cup game.
We also recognise that, soccer bosses have to look after their players and not allow them to play on after multiple head injuries.
To the uninitiated, it looks as if soccer bosses, hardly the gentlest of souls, seem less inclined to let their players grind themselves into the dust. To say that the rugby players insist on doing this is to miss the point.
Rugby players, like most professional athletes, are young people. Young people are notoriously bad at protecting themselves; they have to be protected by older, wiser authority figures. Like medical authority figures, to give just one wild and crazy example.
Yes, it was a pretty busy Saturday for a non-sports fan who would only do the highlights if given the choice. First of all, England drew with the US and then what were presumably the worst bits of Ireland vs New Zealand, the edited version going out at 10pm, and dimly visible through a gathering mist of male tears.
It’s not that you can resent the World Cup, it’s just that there is so much of it, and that the alternatives to it are not that strong. The Catholic Church is offering us the year of the priest, and the Pope is enthusiastic, but I’m not altogether convinced that it’s going to catch on.
We're the World Cup refugees, and, strange though it is to say, we're not all going to be watching Big Brother X, or whatever they are calling it this year. Television has no real alternative to the World Cup for drama and for sheer bulk, it is unbeatable.
So we're not really that transfixed by Cheryl & Ashley: Where It All Went Wrong, which was shown on TV3 at 7pm on Saturday, according to the TV schedules which did not even grace it with a question mark.
But the magnanimity of this piece of programming was somewhat undermined by the fact that Ashley Cole is a soccer player and on the England team.
Some Cheryl pundits say what went wrong with their marriage was the fact that Ashley had been reared within the confines of the soccer world, man and boy, and consequently had to phone a friend when he wanted to make Pot Noodle.
Oh yes, we all have our theories and we can busk with the best of them. But, in these circumstances, can Cheryl & Ashley: Where It All Went Wrongbe offered as serious alternative programming to the World Cup? We submit not.
As a World Cup refugee you are also expected to amuse yourself by going to see Sex And The City 2, in that rather manic girlie way, which is awkward if you are a male refugee and doesn't work that well if you are a female either.
We're going to end up seeing Sex And The City 2in our anoraks in a chill multiplex in some rainy Irish seaside town. Isnt that how we saw the last one, or was that a dream?
Anyway, the anorak, the seaside town, the pouring rain – that’s July, isn’t it? Even the World Cup has to be over by then. RTÉ’s rather low-grade alternative to the World Cup, Hollywood Leading Ladies, seems to consist of forgettable films starring Jennifer Aniston and Julia Roberts. I love Aniston as much as the next man, but no one believes she has ever been given a decent film role, or even a bad role in a decent film. And is Julia Roberts one of Hollywood’s leading ladies anymore? The computer says no.
There’s no point in being half-hearted about it. If you’re going to work the Hollywood leading ladies thing, then you should open with Joan Crawford, play Vivien Leigh when the opposition is least expecting it then and bring on Ava Gardner at half-time. Grace Kelly and Elizabeth Taylor are world-class strikers, and the clothes alone would keep the crowd happy.
Marilyn Monroe is always popular on the terraces. Put the two Twilightfilms on mid-season to bring in the young ones, and work your way up to having all Jane Austen films on a permanent loop. Now that is a leading ladies season if you like.
But the World Cup refugees, and those of us who are just not that bothered about it, are expected to be content with any screen presence in a skirt. You have to say it is insulting. They shouldn’t bother trying. We’ll find some butter to churn, or some reed baskets to weave instead.