GOM World Cup Diary #18 – Whatever Happened To Expectations?
Yesterday brought the end of the World Cup group stage.
England qualified for the knockout rounds and now face DR Congo.
Scotland packed their suitcases.
Uruguay, twice World Cup winners, headed home with just two points.
Three countries.
Three very different emotions.
Which got me thinking.
Whatever happened to expectations?
If you’d told England supporters before the tournament that they’d qualify for the knockout stages, most would probably have taken it.
Perhaps not with quite so much sideways passing along the way, but they’d have accepted it.
If you’d told Scotland fans they’d be heading home after the group stage, there would have been plenty of disappointment…
…but probably not complete surprise.
Hope springs eternal north of the border.
Reality, unfortunately, has a habit of catching up.
Then there’s Uruguay.
Two-time world champions.
A proud football nation.
Yet after three matches they found themselves on the plane home with just two points to show for it.
Sometimes football has a wonderfully cruel way of reminding us that history doesn’t score goals.
And that’s the funny thing about expectations.
The result often matters less than what we expected the result to be.
One person gets promoted at work and is disappointed because it wasn’t the job they really wanted.
Another gets offered a steady job and celebrates all week.
One family complains because the hotel only had two swimming pools.
Another is simply delighted to have escaped the rain for a fortnight.
The same outcome can feel like success or failure depending entirely on what we imagined beforehand.
Football supporters are exactly the same.
Before a ball is kicked we’ve already decided who’s going to surprise us, who’s going to disappoint us and who’s destined to lift the trophy.
Then the tournament politely ignores all our predictions.
Which is probably why we keep watching.
Of course, I should admit that before the World Cup started I’d worked out exactly how I thought it would unfold.
Needless to say, the tournament has already ignored several of my brilliant forecasts.
Apparently the Football Gods don’t read my notes.
Perhaps that’s for the best.
Football has always had a habit of rewarding hope while punishing certainty.
And maybe life does too.
The older I get, the more I realise that expectations can be both a blessing and a burden.
Hope keeps us going.
Expectation sometimes sets us up for disappointment.
The trick, perhaps, is to enjoy the journey and let the destination take care of itself.
Mind you, I’ll still be expecting England to beat DR Congo.
Some lessons clearly take longer to learn than others.
Anyway, what do I know?
I’m just a grumpy old man.
Were England lucky to get through? About as lucky as me persuading you to post a comment?
