Almost exactly 40 years ago, I stopped watching, or caring about, sports played by other people, particularly professionals.

For the 2-3 years leading up to that time in 1970, I lived and slept baseball. I played it and I followed the Washington Senators (“First in war, first in peace, and last in the American League) religiously. I hid my (tube) radio under the covers to listen to west coast night games. Then Robert Short bought the team and moved it to Texas to become the Rangers. My childhood idyll was destroyed, but I learned an important lesson: “Not a sport, a business.”

That has saved me countless wasted hours and untold dollars watching, following, or even mildly caring about professional sports.

But with my time spent in the UK and my European network of friends, I got some sense of the excitement building around the World Cup. Lisa and I actually turned on ESPN-HD a couple of times and found ourselves really enjoying the whole scene (modulo the vuvuzelas). I particularly enjoyed how the coverage draws heavily on South African culture and music – it’s wonderful to think about how far that country has come in the mere 16 years since apartheid ended.

Here’s the thing: the World Cup is the global celebration of the world’s game. We can have all the “World Series”  and “Super Bowls” we want, but everybody (including us) knows it’s not true.

The whole planet has been having this extraordinary party every four years and we really haven’t shown up. This year, we came with bells on and we’re showing everybody some Travolta-like dance moves. I love the ESPN commercials against racism. I love watching opposing players hug and exchange jerseys after the game. I love the South African soundtrack (not the U2 bullshit) and can’t wait to see some newly minted world music fans come out of this whole thing. I love being part of the global party.

I was in a pizza/pub in Asheville yesterday morning when Landon Donovan scored the winning goal at 90+1 minutes. The place was packed and it nearly came off its foundation – approximately three seconds after the goal went in (we all held our breath to see an official would flag the goal illegal for some reason).

But as I studied on it, I realized that it wasn’t so much about winning. I was just as happy as everybody in the pub when that goal went in. But not because I care that we win. It’s just that, well, it’s an amazing wonderful party for the planet and I’m not ready to go home yet.