Dateline: Minute 70. Uruguay vs. Netherlands. Thanks to the wonders of modern cable packages and DVR, I am in the midst of what USC IR majors might call “a moment of true global community.” Announcers are calling Wesley Sneijder’s crooked-looking goal in five different languages, and I get to hear all of them. A crucial score on the highest stage for the world’s most beautiful game. The entire planet, billions of people, all undergoing the same emotional roller coaster/bobsled/tuk-tuk ride. This synchronicity is beamed to my television; I am one with the world, courtesy of AT&T. Ubuntu, they call it. It’s why they put the World Cup in South Africa. Flummoxing expectations, the Portuguese were the most enthusiastic, while the Japanese showed the most restraint.

All ironic distance aside though,I will admit that I felt in those moments a tinge of that fuzzy worldly interconnected feeling ubiquitous in Cisco commercials  and organic food packaging. After all, how many times a decade do ABC’s and Al-Jazeera’s programming directly overlap? Even so, masses, I beseech you: Stay your apotheosis of the World Cup for just a moment. For with only one game left I come to bury this international football tournament, not to praise it. Well, maybe to praise it a little.

I’ll readily admit, I’m a bit of a noob when it comes to the World Cup: I didn’t even know its frequency until the 2006 edition, but upon the first taste I could understand why it’s causing people to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to watch soccer. The World Cup is unique in its status as a sporting event and as an international affair. The rules of the World Cup seem to be the only international accord that every country can actually agree on, and it’s most definitely the quadrennial jingoistic jousting match of the future.

For starters, it delivers on all the lofty promises of the Olympics, which looks increasingly antiquated, but still as obsessed with its own greatness. The World Cup is only about one sport, a sport whose rules everyone understands, and simplicity is key in fostering global understanding and community. Even more refreshingly, the World Cup came out of a pure desire to prove which country was the best at soccer, which is to say that it’s not a product of a bunch of bored, rich hellenophiles trying to add more gravitas to their gentlemen’s’ games. The World Cup is right at home in Thomas Friedman’s newly flattened world, while the Olympics feel more as though they belong in the day of when people believed the world was actually flat.

For players in the rotation but coming off the bench, the World Cup carries just a little bit more jubilation than its five-ringed counterpart. It’s really the global version of the World Series, or the NBA Finals. The Olympics were always about something else: imperialism, fascism, the Cold War, and now, thinly disguised Yellow Peril, turning the games into a literal arms race. Meanwhile in the World Cup, the big bad powers are Brazil and Argentina, countries most famous for Carnaval (or Carnival, in Argentina’s case), gorgeous supermodels and dictators that break into song, and who have kept their megalomaniacal tendencies in check. People view Brazil the same way they view the Lakers, which allows for a delightful level of historically driven trash talking. What’s more, I can ask people, “Why are you against America?” without irony and actually wave flags without looking like an extremist. There weren’t even as many distressing stories about South Africa not being ready for the World Cup in time because they get to spread out the events around the entire country, instead of having to treat a city’s infrastructure the way Joey Chestnut treats his digestive tract.

Even so, world, we would all do well to remember that even though it’s a pretty awesome gaming event, it’s still just a game. The people that benefit most from trumpeting the World Cup’s unifying and transcendent qualities through their vuvuzelas are the ones selling you the World Cup, like Adidas, Nike and ESPN. An American victory would have done nothing to fix unemployment, nor the oil leak. And to all you humanitarian-minded liberals out there, rooting for Uganda and Ghana did not help to lift those countries’ spirits. For war-torn and poverty-stricken countries, the World Cup is as much a distraction as it is a cause for rallying. And though it might be one of the most well-run transnational organizations on the planet, FIFA is still a long way off from having a real effect on the course of geopolitics. Though considering how much everyone loves the World Cup, maybe the U.N. ought to reconsider that position.

E-mail the bets you think the leaders of the Netherlands and Spain should make (a la Super Bowl mayors) to [email protected].