Bring back the singing

We are just over a third of the way through the World Cup and for the most part it's not the football that has been the main talking point.

No, the word on everybody's lips is vuvuzela.

We are told, in no uncertain terms, that this large plastic trumpet-like device is part of South Africa's football heritage and, as such, we should embrace it for what it is.

Organisers and tournament officials have insisted the vuvuzela is here to stay, which means we have another 40 or so games left listening to a million angry bees being chased by a herd of nervous elephants.

From what I have seen so far, it's almost like the football is a sideshow during a series of vuvuzela concerts.

I can understand the theory behind the tradition argument but surely the fact that these tuneless, boring and somewhat ridiculous trumpets are destroying the tournament's atmosphere should also be a consideration, shouldn't it?

Broadcasters, viewers, fans and even players have all bombarded organisers with complaints. Broadcasters say the noise is ruining the television spectacle and, as an armchair fan, I can readily agree with this.

Many fans inside the stadiums are having to buy earplugs just to cope with the noise. Those that don't are wandering out after the final whistle like people who have been up close and personal with an unexpected explosion.

And the players think the vuvuzela noise is affecting their performance on the pitch, making it difficult to communicate between them and almost impossible to get instructions from the bench.

Of course, the latter could well just be an excuse for the way some of the bigger teams have played so far, but I am sure there is a big element of truth in the argument that the constant, deafening buzz is not doing the football any good.

Yet the argument persists that the vuvuzela is traditional and there is no way it will be banned. World Cup spokesman Rich Mkhondo said this week that vuvuzelas are "ingrained in the history of South Africa".

With all that in mind, I thought I would do a little bit of research about these 'musical' instruments. And, from what I can uncover from the internet, although they have been around for a long time, they only became popular at football matches in the late 1990s.

Then, in 2001, some bright entrepreneur started making the plastic versions which are now being blown by every Tom, Dick and Harriet in South Africa.

Call me biased if you like, but a 'tradition' that has been around for just over a decade is hardly what you would describe as an integral part of South Africa's football heritage. More like a craze than a tradition.

It would be easier to tolerate the noise if it at least came with a purpose. Like if something exciting was happening on the pitch. But the constant droning, even during substitutions and player injuries, starts to make your teeth itch.

Football matches should be about singing and shouting and dancing and screaming and crying and laughing. It should be about supporters being able to actually support their teams.

The vuvuzela is all but killing these essential ingredients in South Africa, and this World Cup will be poorer for it. Noisier, but poorer.

Tout of this world

In a startling revelation, Fifa last week admitted it may have made mistakes in the way it allocated tickets at the World Cup.

And what will they tell us next? That the world is spherical? Or maybe that water is wet? Talk about stating the obvious.

I wrote a few months ago that the ticket allocation system was seriously flawed. And that came from personal experience. I had applied for tickets to all England's matches only to receive an e-mail from Fifa telling me my application had been successful and I had been awarded two for this Wednesday's Slovenia match.

A lot of use that is. I was, according to Fifa, supposed to drop everything and fly halfway round the world to watch a single game. And not exactly a classic at that.

To add insult to injury, I was not allowed to actually have my tickets until I got to South Africa, to try and cut down on ticket touts.

Another joke, as tickets are openly available on the black market. Tickets for last Friday's England game against Algeria, for example, were 'illegally' changing hands for £200 each, just a few metres outside the official ticketing office.

The upshot of all this is simple. Many of the games we have seen so far at this tournament, including ones supposedly full like Italy vs Paraguay and Portugal vs Ivory Coast, have had rows and rows of empty seats.

Fifa, of course, in admitting they haven't got it completely right, have still insisted things are going well and claim the average attendance up to Wednesday was around 92 per cent.

But that still means there have been tens of thousands of empty seats at the matches so far, which is a tragedy for a tournament where every seat could be filled if things had been organised a bit less like a wild pub crawl.

I am sure England's match on Wednesday is a 'sell out', at least on paper. But I know for a fact there will be at least two empty seats in the stand. Mine.

I say again, if anyone out there fancies going to the England game, just give me a shout. The tickets are yours for the price of a vuvuzela, a can of petrol and a box of matches.

Blaming the tools

And now, in a surprising twist, I am going to stand up for Adidas and Fifa in the growing row over the Jabulani football. The complaints from players and managers are growing as the tournament progresses, but I think it is about time they faced the facts:

• This new ball has been made following stringent Fifa guidelines and, as such, is not significantly different from any other approved football.

• It is not lighter than other balls, which is the most common complaint. It is actually the same weight or heavier than previous designs.

• The new ball was made available to all participating nations back in February, which was plenty of time to get a few practice shots in. Countries like Germany, Argentina and the US have been using the Jabulani in their domestic leagues for months without complaint.

• The ball was used during the African Nations Cup and we didn't hear a peep about it being the 'worst ball ever' then.

The single biggest factor affecting the flight of the ball in South Africa is altitude. The single biggest problem facing the players who are complaining is attitude.

Just shut up and get on with it. A good workman doesn't blame his tools.

Your say

Thanks for all your e-mails on the question of patriotism. Last week I asked if you thought that we Maltese were any less patriotic for supporting foreign teams during the World Cup.

Well, the general consensus is no.

You all seem to feel that throwing our allegiances behind England, Italy, Germany and any of the other football teams in South Africa in no way diminishes our love for our own country.

Instead you feel, like I do, that this is an almost inevitable consequence of the fact that the Maltese team, at least in our lifetime, is unlikely to ever make the finals.

John Attard writes: "Despite being an England fan, I would support my country against any other in the world, without question. Yet the fact that Malta never qualifies or even comes close to qualifying means I am forced to find another team to get attached to. In an ideal world, this wouldn't be the case. But as Maltese football fans we don't live in an ideal world."

Italy fan Irene Borg feels the same: "I support the Italians because it gives me something to get excited about during the World Cup and the European Cup. They aren't my first choice. But I don't see why I should have to support nobody just because Malta is not there."

I received numerous e-mails on the subject and the theme was the same throughout. Although one chap whose first name was Julian, did have a very valid point:

"Malta is and always will be my number one national team. However, I don't think that is the case for everybody here. When England played in Malta back in the 1990s, I recall going to the stadium and there were thousands of Maltese supporting England against their own team. That, for me, was very wrong," he said.

All in all, I think we are agreed. We would all love to one day support Malta at a major tournament. It's a dream. But until that day comes it is unfair to think any less of us for supporting other teams.

It's not something we do through a lack of patriotism, it's something we do through lack of choice.

sportscolumnist@timesofmalta.com