It’s a rare moment when I express even mild interest in metric football, otherwise known as soccer. This year, however, North and South Korea have both qualified for the World Cup, which holds the distant promise to beat down the saccharine we-are-one, brotherly-love hippie crap of the 90’s. According to this pernicious stupidity, sports could overcome differences between nations with diametrically opposed interests, values, and psychologies. It hasn’t quite worked out that way.
It’s enough to make you retch. On more than one occasion, it did make me retch. South Korea’s idea of brotherly love with the North was laden with venom, even racism and an easy tolerance of the most profound evils occurring in our time. I ask you — what, short of war, would do more to bathe, shave, and detoxify this hippie pablum than a nice, bloody soccer riot — a Korean War redux on the field? In war, there is no substitute for victory, even if what it takes to win is to send in the Hanson brothers and plant a few of these guys in the stands:
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