By Adam Williams, Kamloops This Week

Does anyone else find World Cup fever a tad strange?

Don’t get me wrong. I like soccer as much as the next guy, perhaps more. My time in the Tournament Capital has seen me grow to enjoy watching the world’s beautiful game.

I once detested covering TRU WolfPack soccer matches, but now look forward to them.

Like many others in the River City, I will be watching my fair share of World Cup action over the next month.

But, here in Canada, soccer isn’t in the mix when it comes to talk of major professional sports, which is why I find the fascination with the World Cup to be somewhat strange.

Let’s face it, Canada isn’t exactly a soccer nation — our men’s team is ranked 110th in FIFA’s world rankings. I would bet our country has more fans with intimate knowledge of the Ottawa RedBlacks than we do people who know Association Football.

Yet, every four years, World Cup soccer comes around and we’re glued to our TVs, taking long lunches or calling in sick, hiding online streams behind other windows on our office computers so the boss doesn’t know what we’re doing.

Heck, I even spent the morning writing a story on what’s happening around the city in celebration of World Cup.

I’m adding fuel to the fire.

But, isn’t it strange for a country that’s more or less indifferent to the sport for the three years and 11 months in between tournaments?

What’s perhaps more disturbing than our bandwagon obsession, though, is our willingness to turn a blind eye to some of the disgusting realities of FIFA and the World Cup.

Let’s be realistic — we do the same thing every four years with the Olympics.

Like the parents of the elementary-school bully, we see what we want, ignoring everything to the contrary.

The World Cup is entertaining and fun, so who cares what happens behind the scenes?

Brazilians, for one.

According to Al Jazeera America, Brazil has spent more than $14-billion US on the 2014 World Cup, more than any other nation in the tournament’s 84-year history.

Preparation across the country’s 12 host cities has been marred by protests and strikes. Locals argue against the construction of multi-million dollar stadiums and people are starving in the streets.

FIFA, the World Cup’s governing body, is again at the centre of allegations of corruption, this time regarding its selection of Qatar as tournament host in 2022.

There’s little argument certain aspects of Brazil’s preparation defy logic — the $300-million Amazonia Arena built in Manaus springs to mind.

The stadium will host just four matches during the World Cup and won’t be used by an elite soccer team following the tournament.

Its location, in the heart of the Amazon rainforest, is miles from any other population centre.

Those issues are only the tip of the iceberg. Just as countless column inches were devoted to the euthanizing of stray dogs and construction delays in Sochi during the Olympic Games, Brazil has drawn the media’s ire.

Yet, when Brazil and Croatia kicked off the tournament’s opening match on June 12, few seemed to remember the protests and security issues.

As the tournament progresses, most won’t give a second thought to whether the government acted responsibly or if the Brazilian public deserved better.

We’ll sit back with a beer, make bets on office pools and pretend like soccer is a sport we care about year-round.

Isn’t there something wrong with that?

I read a Sports Illustrated (SI) story the other day, a 1980s tribute to Jim Murray, one of the greatest sports writers of our time.

According to SI, Murray “would mumble and fuss that he had no angle, sigh heavily and then, when he had finished his column, no matter how good it was, he would always slide back in his chair and say, ‘Well, fooled ’em again.’”

Something tells me that would have summed up his thoughts on the World Cup, too.