Malachy Clerkin: You’re fooling nobody - you will watch the World Cup

People are going to watch the World Cup. Sorry to shock you, now. But it’s true. Millions upon millions of people. People you know. People you love. People who are literally you, yourself. Yes, even you. You are going to watch the World Cup.

You may think you’re going to boycott it. We’ll see. It gets dark these nights at five o’clock, remember. The weather is still disarmingly mild for November, but it’s not like you’re sitting on the canal bank with a few cans to pass the time. And anyway, that’ll turn soon too. It’ll get colder and wetter and windier and Spain are playing Germany in a fortnight, at seven o’clock on a Sunday evening. You reckon you’re not going to watch it? Come on.

This is the World Cup. Still. And only just. The weasels at Fifa have so hollowed it out that it staggers upon us as a cheapened, raddled husk. How could it be otherwise, once the governing body ransacked it for their own ends? Of the 22-man committee who awarded Qatar the tournament back in 2010, 14 have since been variously indicted, sentenced, accused, arrested or banned because of football-related corruption. It’s a wonder it has made it this far at all.

[ Sepp Blatter says awarding World Cup to Qatar was a ‘mistake’ ]

But it has. And here it is. Deformed, mangled and panel-beaten like no other World Cup before it. Sixty-four matches in 29 days, making it the shortest tournament since Spain ‘82, even though back then there were eight fewer teams and 12 fewer games. It was due to be even shorter – the first game wasn’t supposed to be until Monday week. But Qatar decided on a whim just three months out from the tournament that they wanted to play in the opener so they got it moved to the Sunday.

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It’s a stain on humanity that so many workers have died, been injured and have had to endure brutal working conditions to build the stadiums

This is what the World Cup has been reduced to. A plaything, a kitten’s ball of wool. A makeweight between governments as they shake each other down outside rickety stalls at the global bazaar. According to noted grabber Sepp Blatter – cash, Hope Solo’s backside, he’ll take anything he gets his hands on – Qatar were awarded the World Cup and a few months later bought fighter jets worth $16.4 billion from France. All in the game.

Qatar lied about playing the World Cup in the traditional summer slot and got away with it. They have lied, repeatedly and relentlessly, about their treatment of migrant workers and they’re still getting away with it. The one thing they haven’t lied about is their medieval attitude to being gay and they’re not one bit annoyed about what you think of them for that. The whole episode is, of course, a grotesque parody of how something of this size and importance should be organised.

[ ‘Qatar was a mistake - the choice was bad’ ]

[ Qatar World Cup ultimate proof that football does not love us back ]

Here’s the thing, though. None of that is enough to stop you watching the World Cup. The thieves and autocrats and corporate greaseballs can all do their worst but they have no impact on your relationship with the tournament. If you think you’re sticking it to them by staging some sort of ostentatious boycott, fine. But you’ll only be affecting one person and it won’t be any of them.

Don’t mistake watching the World Cup for ignorance. We know, you know. It’s a stain on humanity that so many workers have died, been injured and have had to endure brutal working conditions to build the stadiums. We know this. It’s ridiculous to be playing a World Cup in a desert in November. We know this. It’s one of the sleaziest, rottenest, ugliest examples of corruption in the history of sport. We know this. Don’t you think we know this?

The World Cup is a precious thing. Every football fan on the planet can count their lives out in these tournaments

On top of which, we also know it’s not going to be great. There’s no point pretending this tournament will be anything other than a grind. Every country is missing players before the thing even starts. The groups stages force teams into three games in eight days, as opposed to three in 10 as it was in previous World Cups. The knock-on is obvious – games slowed down, injuries racked up. It won’t be pretty.

But it will still be the World Cup. We live in an era where the football well has been so thoroughly poisoned that it can often be difficult to locate the simple beauty of the game any more. Leagues scoured of competition. Clubs gutted by hedge fund vampires or co-opted by nation states to launder their image. Tribalism so wretched and toxic that singing about death and tragedy is what passes for enjoyment. Supporters wrung out like tea-towels for every last cent they have, all the fun and colour drained away.

Fifa and Qatar and all the spivs and charlatans have done so much over the past 12 years to demean and cheapen the World Cup, but even they can’t change what it ultimately is. A genuine global event. A piece of cultural thread knitting the planet together for the best part of a month. Thirty-two countries saying the same thing – here’s the best of ours, let’s see the best of yours. There’s still magic in that.

The World Cup is a precious thing. Every football fan on the planet can count their lives out in these tournaments. The one with your first sticker album. The one you got to watch at school. The first one you went to the pub for. The one where you won the office sweepstake. The one you watched in the middle of the night feeding the baby. The players. The goals. The epics. The rows. All of that is yours and yours alone.

This World Cup has been a disaster every step of the way. Not watching it will only make it worse.