Um, qué?
The moderately corrupt (but only in a fun, European way) officials are thinking that maybe diving is killing the sport. Yes, diving. Solution? TV. They want to bring about video evidence so that refs can more enthusiastically punish players like Dida, whose sanctified noggin was not actually grazed, no matter how many acrobatic “reaction” flips he busted out.
Getting caught diving is an automatic yellow card, by the way, for the 93 percent of the people reading this to humor me. Bad diving in big spots means bigger penalties and the eternal scorn of the acting community.
Now, at first blush, this is horrible. A sacrilege, perhaps. Isn't soccer supposed to be a little dramatic and maybe even slightly off-kilter?
But let’s think: could the advent of stricter regulations somehow force footballers the world over to, gasp, man up? No more writhing in pain, no more rolling around on the ground after being struck by a stray piece of grass, no more tears. Like Johnson and Johnson! See:
It’s uncanny.
It’s two-sided, though. On the one hand, I don’t have to be shamed by some of the top players in the sport. On the other, diving is kinda of awesome. I mean, the level of skill in executing a good dive – it’s Brian Boitano-esque. If a dive is especially good (rolling around, shin clutching, gritting his teeth in pain), I’m likely to overlook any eventual loss of masculinity and simply applaud.
Do you snicker when Burt Reynolds cries after his daughter/mother/girlfriend/pet/best friend from high school/scuba diving partner gets brutally murdered in Death Wish, parts I to IV? Of course you do. But you still wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley afterwards. (And I’m just assuming he cries. I can never get past the movie description on my TV.)
Final thoughts: Let the boys cry, yo. Let ‘em cry. Bad dives are instantly apparent to the refs and should be punished for what they are. The Meryl Streeps of soccer need to breathe for their art.
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