As we were sipping our drinks and talking in my beloved’s apartment yesterday evening, we started hearing loud screams from somewhere down the street. It was hot and the windows were open. From the screams, we realized there was a large group of people watching a soccer game. There were so many screams in a row that my beloved went to the World Wide Web with her mobile phone to check the results. “Five to zero for Germany,” she reported. “Gosh,” I shook my head, “that ain’t soccer!” After a while, there were more screams. “Seven to zero,” my beloved reported after another check. I just could not believe the results, and so I went for my laptop. By then, the game was over. Brazil scored one goal, thus spoiling the incredible symmetry. “Brazil, Brazil…,” my beloved started singing and waving her hands. “Such scores are unknown in soccer,” I kept repeating, “except in friendly matches between widely unequal teams. But this is the semifinal of the world soccer tournament!” And in Brazil, of all places. Judging by the online newspapers I checked this morning, everyone who watched the game was aghast. Brazil was crushed yesterday evening. Nay, annihilated. As many commentators put it, Germans might have played against a bunch of people selected at random along the Copacabana. Soccer, what soccer?