Oh, dear God, really!
Just look at the amount of words used to explain it.
Enter soccer: there is a boy, there is a ball, there is a goal... go get it in. End of story!
Good grief! Even I know better than that: you need to begin with at least twenty-two boys or, these days, girls. There is
strategy, without which it would become boring... then there is chanting, a part of strategy, but played by the supporters' clubs, which is mainly insulting to the opposing team and meant to raise their collective temper and force them into making mistakes. There is also same-side chanting, where players of your own team are mocked and/or taunted, often because of race, where scoring goals takes secondary position to not being colour-coded according to the regulation Pantone System. Just another kind of penalty, in a way.
This can be a very subtle tactic enjoyed by those who want to have their own team punished by the relevant football authorities either through fines or by being banned from several matches. It can be useful if they know the club probably faces a thrashing somewhere down the line. Being banned is not humiliating; losing is.
Then there is the money. It will
buy bring you beautiful, over-decorated, over-madeup, over-amplified empty women who will play their part cleverly and gaze up into your face in rapture at all public occasions where there is a camera. These creatures will make you feel so good, much as did delightful Delilah poor old Samson. And in the end, they may well cost you just as much. I don't think many of them buy diesel cars.
Photographers can only look on in envy and wonder why they got it all so wrong.
