The Arrogant Emu

It being the day of Italy’s game against South Korea in the World Cup, Dr. vom Muntvelt called a halt to the day’s excavations early, and soon the whole crew from field and lab alike congregated in San Venanzo at the "Bar Centrale", where the tables had been pushed aside and the chairs set up in ranks before the television. We were there, mostly Americans, and also a number of the bar’s regular patrons, little old Italian men who liked to hang out and play cards in the sun. They shouted enthusiastically at the screen whenever someone did something particularly good or particularly blameworthy.

What fun! This was something like! I’d never really gotten into the watching of sports - I cannot follow the rules and don’t really care enough to make the effort - but there was something about the World Cup that was really captivating. Perhaps it was because it was nation-against-nation rather than one silly team against another, perhaps it was because of the heraldic atmosphere of the engagement, or perhaps it was because the soccer players were pretty cute.

(This is true, actually - one gets out of the habit of thinking of sports players as handsome when one sees them running around in padded suits crashing into each other - but both the Italian and the South Korean team had a number of remarkably handsome players.)