Football unites us all, a beacon of shared passions that connects nations across continents, the Opening Ceremony MC informed us. With a straight face. Well, as long as she was well paid.
We have seen enough of these global pageants to separate truth from tosh. Some, like this kaleidoscopic showpiece in Mexico City, are suitably light and jolly. Others more profound, projecting power and eminence.
The lead-up to this moment gave Fifa the World Cup it deserves, racked with tensions and distrust, overly policed, overtly politicised, eco hostile, brazenly monetized to the benefit of itself, cue projected $9bn (£7m) dollar windfall, and callously detrimental to the community that actually cares about the game: football supporters.
None of that touched the sides, of course, swept clean under the red carpet by the alternative reality choreographers cosplaying utopia in the Azteca. Credit to Ian Wright for cutting through the froth 2,500 miles away on the banks of the East River in Brooklyn. Spirit of the game? They have no idea about that here, he said. Keep politics out of sport? Do me a favour.
The man who made this tournament possible, according to Fifa president Gianni Infantino at least, the venerable Donald Trump, would at least appreciate the welly in Wright’s message. Trump was mercifully absent from Mexico City.
