England, oh my England, where did you go today?

You were meant to be in Africa, you had a game to play.

The defence stayed home, the team looked lost, the Germans ran amok,

The vuvuzelas gave the sound that best described our shock:


Song, a regular and always interesting contibutor to this blog’s threads, has sent a follow up to the Vuvuzela Concerto in B Flat. It is the funniest of many pictures doing the rounds and shows the annoying history of the ‘wasp trumpet’:

Song posted this in a comment on a previous post, but it is funny enough to deserve a post of its own!

What I am seeing of the World Cup is not too bad so far. Germany were great, Italy got a shock, the Africans are having one massive party and the vuvuzela is driving everybody mad.

I wonder if it is the swarm-of-killer-wasp noise that put Robert Green off his mark when he let the ball through his hands for the USA’s equaliser against England?

This reminded me of the epic game back in the 1960s when Liverpool were playing their arch-rivals Leeds United at Anfield and the Leeds goalkeeper, Gary Sprake, threw the ball into his own net. The crowd erupted into a full and comprehensive (even sarcastically tuneful) rendering of Des O’Connor’s number one hit Careless Hands. It was funny, witty and spontaneous.

What is lacking from this World Cup is any spontaneity, wit or fun from the crowd. All you can hear is the relentless drone of the vuvuzelas. Pity, really (especially if you hate wasps and wonder what God was thinking of…).