As many cheeseburger-loving Americans long feared, soccer has finally driven the world stark-raving mad. Wanting to create an international buzz in the worst way, the World Cup unleashed something called the vuvuzela on an unsuspecting planet. Ears bleed from Amsterdam to Alabama.
And the world screams back: Hey, put a sock in it!
The vuvuzela looks like a harmless plastic trumpet. A mere toy, at first glance. But more than 500,000 vuvuzelas have descended upon South Africa, and faster than you can say “Didier Drogba,” tournament organizers have a plague of white noise that disrupts every game and disturbs every telecast.
“It’s almost as if South Africa has been invaded by a million bees,” TV play-by-play announcer Ian Darke bellowed Sunday. The audio feed sounded as if ESPN was broadcasting from the dark side of Mars, with the action on the pitch drowned out by the unrelenting din of vuvuzelas, which can generate a mind-splitting 125 decibels.
For folks who don’t speak the language of soccer, the buzz is pronounced: voo-voo-ZAY-la. It is sold as a musical instrument of mass destruction. The vuvuzela poses the greatest threat to permanent hearing loss at a stadium since Roseanne Barr received a lifetime ban from singing “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
These garishly hued plastic horns cost 3 bucks, are as long as an elephant’s trunk and threaten to swallow the biggest sporting event in the world.
“We have asked for no vuvuzelas during national anthems or during stadium announcements,” Danny Jordaan told reporters in South Africa, admitting his World Cup organizing committee has considered banning the trumpets. “I know it’s a difficult question. We’re trying to manage it the best we can.”
Where on earth did this fascination for soccer fans blowing their horn begin?
While the exact origin of the word is clouded in mystery, some intrepid etymologists have traced it to Zulu and believe when loosely translated, vuvuzela means:
Bored to deaf.
Now, at risk of revocation of my natural-born right as a U.S. citizen to supersize my meals at Mickey D’s, let me confess to be one American who truly, deeply and passionately loves soccer.
The 1-nil scores don’t upset me. I even kind of dig the wacko tradition of hooligans trying to burn down bleachers with flare guns in celebration of a goal. The vuvuzela, however, is turning a beautiful game into nails on the chalkboard.
This is not to say American ingenuity is without guilt when devising mindless ways to make a racket inside an athletic venue. So we will take the rap for the cowbell, the thunderstick and the immortal wave, where everybody, including your Aunt Nancy, waits to stand up and be identified as overserved.
But as we watched Team USA tie grumpy old England 1-1 on TV, how many millions of Americans had the same immediate reaction as cyclist Lance Armstrong?
“What is that horn going off in the stadium?” Armstrong tweeted. After determining the source of the noise pollution, he chirped, “No offense to the vuvuzela posse but, man, it’s a bit much.”
Aren’t soccer crowds supposed to sing? As rock stars from Paul Simon to Bono can attest, no continent can lift up its voice in song the way Africa can.
How hard could it be to set up collection bins outside every World Cup venue? If Americans will dump bottles of cold beer before entering an NFL game, then soccer fans can surely be trained to surrender a vuvuzela at the gate.
Kill the buzz. Please.
For the love of Pele and everything soccer holds sacred, put an end to this endless torture of white noise.
Are we just being ugly Americans to complain? Hey, don’t make us send Will Ferrell, the “Saturday Night Live” alum who also played a soccer dad from Hades in the classic soccer movie “Kicking & Screaming,” to Johannesburg to clean up this mess.
Because do you know the only stadium sound that could be possibly be more annoying than a vuvuzela?
More cowbell.
Mark Kiszla: 303-954-1053 or mkiszla@denverpost.com
