The news reached the Bluestocking Library at breakfast.
“Apparently,” said Gumption, reading over the top of a newspaper three times her size, “the World Cup has already started.”
Twenty-three gerbils immediately stopped what they were doing.
Gladiator, who had no involvement whatsoever in the tournament committee and had intended to keep it that way, looked up from her coffee. “What do you mean, started?”
“The opening ceremony was yesterday.”
Geography dropped a pin. Glyph dropped a magnifying glass. Gazetteer dropped an entire lever-arch file.
“Yesterday?” said Gussie from inside a cabinet.
“Yes.”
“We haven’t had ours.”
“No.”
“We haven’t even built the stadium.”
“No.”
“We haven’t appointed referees.”
“We have appointed referees,” said Gumption.
Everyone looked at her.
“The elephant shrews.”
That was different. The elephant shrews had been appointed immediately because they looked authoritative and possessed impressive noses.
A meeting was called. This resulted in six meetings. By lunchtime, the situation had become considerably more organised and therefore much worse. A giant chart now covered one wall. Another chart covered a second wall. A third chart attempted to explain the first two charts and had achieved only limited success.
“The problem,” said Geography, standing on a ladder and pointing at something with a ruler, “is that we have become distracted by country selection.”
“We spent four days arguing about whether Atlantis should qualify,” said Gazetteer.
“It has excellent historical credentials.”
“It doesn’t exist.”
“That is merely one interpretation.”
“What happened to Wales?” asked Glyph.
Nobody knew. A search party was organised. Wales was eventually discovered in Group F underneath a pile of administrative notes relating to Luxembourg.
By mid-afternoon, the gerbils had accepted a difficult truth. Real World Cup organisers did not spend weeks debating the geopolitical status of fictional island kingdoms. They simply got on with things.
“Right,” declared Gumption. She drew a thick line across the giant chart. “New plan.”
Everyone leaned forward. “We have five weeks.”
“Reasonable.”
“We need stadiums.”
“Yes.”
“Fixtures.”
“Yes.”
“National anthems.”
“Yes.”
“Opening ceremony.”
“Definitely.”
“Commentators.”
“Important.”
“Merchandise.”
“Very important.”
“Security.”
“Less important.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re all attending anyway.”
This was considered sound reasoning.
Assignments were distributed immediately. Geography began constructing tournament maps. Glyph started designing programmes. Gazetteer produced a twelve-page briefing document entitled A Short Introduction to Every Country in the Tournament, which was neither short nor an introduction.
Granite started building a stadium. Nobody had actually asked her to build a stadium. Granite simply assumed one would be needed and had already completed the foundations.
Meanwhile, the elephant shrews arrived for referee training. This consisted entirely of walking around looking stern. To everyone’s surprise, they were exceptionally good at it.
By evening, the library buzzed with purpose. The tournament was behind schedule. The opening ceremony was overdue. The infrastructure was largely imaginary. But at last the gerbils were moving in the same direction.
Which, for the World Cup Committee, represented a significant and largely unexpected improvement.
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