In praise of European entertainment

With the arrival of the World Cup, many in North America have expressed boredom. Without the context of soccer hooliganism or photos of David Beckham wearing nothing but a sarong, the excitement has been lost on those who did not grow up with "the beautiful game".

I am one of those people who grew up with very little exposure to European football, even though my father was a football fan in exile. But I have found myself enjoying the games because it is the opposite of most North American entertainment, which tends to feature blaring music, pumped up commentators, and manic camera action.

When I watch a World Cup game, I find myself lulled by the combination of constant action and a leisurely atmosphere. The smooth, melodious tones of the British commentator act like a nice audio massage. I mentally tune in when something exciting happens on the field but otherwise, I find myself thinking about my day, writing up a shopping list, or even daydreaming. All in all, I enjoy myself immensely.

My World Cup experience is similar to how I feel when I watch the Tour de France, which I have been a fan of since before Lance Armstrong. During the three hours of broadcast on an average day, I watch the cyclists weave through the scenic French country side, listen to the constant genteel banter of the British commentators, and think about my exercise schedule for the week. When someone makes a break from the pelaton or sprints for the finish line, I come to attention. All in all, I enjoy myself immensely.

My European entertainment spectatorship is not limited to sports. A History of Britain, a documentary series presented by Simon Schama, has the same appeal. As I watch 13 hours of Britannia, lulled by Mr. Schama's voice and endearing physical quirks, I think about doing the laundry and what to eat for dinner. Then I am jostled from my thoughts by Mr. Schama's tale of one mad British king's painful death after a red hot iron poker is shoved up his anus. It goes without saying that I enjoyed myself immensely.