I think one of the weirdest aspects of The World Cup is that the collective citizenry of the United States acknowledges it with as much enthusiasm as one usually applies to his or her alarm clock. It’s there. You’re supposed to pay attention to it, but you mostly ignore it. Such is the way of the typical American -- yeah, soccer… whatever. Let me know when it’s time for the NFL again.

I have been a casual soccer fan since I was young. I used to go to see the Canton Invaders play their brand of indoor soccer at the Canton Civic Center. Notoriously minor league, but still a really fun time -- especially when the team charged out of a giant, glowing, smoke-enveloped soccer ball at the start of the match. The star player’s name was Kia, and he was the shit. (Well, at least as much as any minor league player could be.) I also played a little myself during my formative years (indoor and outdoor), as a lot of kids did and still do. And like what happens with most kids, soccer fell by the wayside in favor of other sports. Or, in my case, was replaced with being tremendously lazy and playing a less taxing sport called “sitting in my room, reading books.” In current years, I occasionally keep up with the professional European leagues, and follow my local Major League Soccer team, The Columbus Crew, with passing interest. But for the most part, I admire the sport from a distance and don’t claim to be anything resembling a serious fan.

Although now it comes time for what many would argue to be the greatest sporting event in the world, save for -- or possibly even eclipsing -- the Olympics. As it turns out, the rest of the known universe plays soccer, and for once it’s our nation that is playing the role of the backwards country that just doesn’t quite get it. (See also: Foreign Policy c. 2000 - present.)

The immediate problem -- and I suppose it’s not actually a problem so much as a personal irritation -- is that when the day comes that the USA National Soccer team actually achieves success on the world stage, our bravado (read: rampant patriotism mixed with a superiority complex) will come to the fore. And good golly, the people of the United States are just going to go apeshit for soccer. My friends, we live in a bandwagon nation, a country plagued with Sports Affective Disorder (SAD) -- our mental state is dramatically altered by the sporting events around us.

You see, there’s a pattern to how this works, a developmental cycle of about four steps, with each step tied to a distinct level of American interest:

1) We’re not good at something. Lots of other people are. We will consequently deny the existence of whatever we can’t handle.

2) We finally manage to obtain a moderate level of success, which is enough to get the attention of people who call themselves “die-hard fans.” The rest of the world continues to go about its business, and graciously acknowledges that we don’t entirely suck anymore. The average American has now vaguely heard of it, but it’s in the same category of things like unicorns and the Tooth Fairy.

3) An American team or individual succeeds on a level that shocks the world. Our national response is to suddenly look up, see that we’re competitive to the point of being better than a lot of other people, and we proceed to start chanting “USA! USA!” until we’re blue in the face. We’re also blue in the face because we’ve painted it, and we’ve taken off our shirts. As long as we maintain a high level of competitiveness, three out of four people will claim to have been a soccer fan all their lives. We totally own the rest of the known universe, don’t you know? We’re the USA! This will continue until…

4) We suck again. Go back to step two, except now the die-hards become extremely bitter that nobody supports their sport anymore.

If you care to see examples of this process in action, I encourage you to look into a little thing called Le Tour de France. After a simply amazing era set forth by cyclist Lance Armstrong, we’re riding high on step three (with bonus points in place because France really hates us for it, and we Americans love little more than annoying the snot out of the French). The effect is widespread in the aforementioned Olympic Games, where SAD is as inevitable as the tide rolling in and out -- don’t even begin to tell me that you’ve been a ballroom dancing fan all this time. You’re only saying that because you heard Bob Costas made an off-hand remark that the USA had a team (a ballroom dancing team!), and you watched the last season of ABC’s Dancing With the Stars because you thought Drew Lachey was hot. Same thing with baseball -- yes, you know deep down that it’s an Olympic sport, you’re just repressing it because we’ve not been good at it in recent times. You see, our national pride just can’t handle the fact that we don’t own everyone else in a sport we invented. Why exactly do you think it felt like such a personal insult when our National Basketball team (comprised of professional players) completely imploded on the world stage? That team ruined our utter and indisputable dominance of the sport, which was the best thing that we ever had going for us bravado wise. “Dream Team,” indeed.

So soccer waits and bides its time, currently mired somewhere in step two. I for one am going to go about my business in the meantime and hope that when soccer catches on, it will stick around. In the meantime, I will dutifully watch the World Cup games, and cheer on either Germany or England, because the much-hyped USA team has thus far fizzled, postponing the beginning of a golden age of United States soccer for at least another four years.

(There is a corollary to this: it doesn't apply to women's sports. The USA Women's Soccer Team alone can prove that you could go on an amazing run of victories on the world stage, and yet, strangely, people don't seem to care.)