Thursday, July 5, 2018 6:09 AM

In the lunchroom, the big screen shows the World Cup. Workers stare at it, engrossed and chattering. Onscreen, men run back and forth on grass. Some kick things. Some fall over. I've heard announcers in English, Hebrew, Russian, German, and something I can't make out. They share the same cadences: a steady patter that rises in pitch and tempo as the camera movement gets faster then hits a long high syllable when the people cheer the most and the men on the screen stop running. It's a curious endeavor, somewhat like dance, except that other men decide which groups of running men win and lose, and people who aren't playing are emotionally invested in their doing so. I wander off when I'm done eating. It will still be there when I return. The men onscreen will be doing the same things. Most, I expect, will be wearing different shirts.