By Susan Lee
The relentless march of time is a remarkable thing. Some mark its passage by noticing the changing seasons of the year, the roses blooming once again in the front garden or the ice back in the bird bath. Others watch it race ahead by counting the grey hairs or their children's birthdays or the arrival, once again, of a new series of Strictly. Me? I mark it by World Cups.
It feels literally not a moment ago when I was writing about David Beckham becoming a brand ambassador in the last competition in Qatar. That was just weeks after Queen Elizabeth II had died - and he'd queued up to pay his respects with the public - yet it feels like no time at all.
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The competition before that took place in a world where - unbelievably - nobody had heard the words Covid or lockdown. I can recall vividly arguing with my son, who wanted to decorate the front of the house in red, white and blue to show his football devotion - yet that was in 2012 when he was a stroppy teen. Now he's a grown bloke with a baby of his own.
And can it really be as far back as 1982 when, a little in love with Glenn Hoddle, I cut out every newspaper article I could find about the squad and started a scrapbook? So you see, I love the World Cup and always have. This despite the fact I can't kick a ball for toffee and struggle to adequately explain the offside rule. It might be the anticipation or the drama or perhaps the hope that maybe, just maybe, this time we will win. This year, though, it all feels rather different.
We are living in divisive, disrupted and dangerous times. The news is full of violence and chaos and hate. The planet can feel, some days, like one gigantic bin fire. The host of the competition itself, the USA, is not a place where many feel safe to travel, its politics is horribly polarised and marked by nationalist-populism. Its President is erratic and its ICE agents a threat.
Should there really be a global competition held on this soil? Given the enormous cost and controversy, should the tournament be held at all? Yes, is the answer. To both. Because the World Cup offers hope.
Despite the inflated ticket prices, the games held in a country at war with one of the participants, the gun culture and the huge carbon footprint, the competition unites the world together like little else.
Yes, it delivers the hope of great entertainment and skill and victory but also the hope that comes from strangers coming together to enjoy nothing more than 22 people kicking a ball. It's so simple but so powerful - hope unites where hatred divides and to see it play out on a national stage is what we need right now. Football cuts across race and creed and sex, It is a common language.
And the World Cup among its greatest conversations. One more thing...
There are very few things my husband and I fundamentally disagree upon. How to stack the dishwasher is one. The benefits of an afternoon of retail therapy is another.
But the garden occupies a we'll-never-see-eye-to-eye category all of its own. I say garden, I mean the lawn.
I aspire to what little grass we have at the back of our house looking like Number One court at Wimbledon - immaculate, close cropped, devoid of weeds and daisies. My other half prefers the more natural approach or, as I like to call it, letting it all go to hell.
The arrival of No Mow May is a Godsend to him. The idea, which he embraces all too strongly, is that you let your lawn grow long so it encourages wildlife and insects and plants. And I get it. I'm not averse to nature and enjoy Springwatch as much as anyone else.
But No Mow May has turned into Just Can't be Bothered June and will inevitably evolve into Absolutely Out of Control August. By September we'll risk losing a small child out there. This is pure neglect rebranded as conservation. Kick the idea into the long grass, I say.
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Susan Lee has been a journalist for more than 35 years writing for both national and regional titles including The Mirror and OK! Magazine and the Liverpool Echo where she was print editor. She is founder and co-presenter of the award-winning podcast The Menopod, author of The Friday Book Club Newsletter and writes a regular column for daily regional titles across the UK. You can contact her via X (formerly Twitter) @SusanLeeJourno
