No chants, no nuance equals no atmosphere

The constant drone of cheap and tuneless plastic horns is

killing the atmosphere at the World Cup.

Where are the loud choruses of “Oooohhsss” from enthralled

crowds when a shot scorches just wide of the goalpost? And the

sharp communal intake of breath, the shrill “Aaahhhhss,” when a

goalkeeper makes an acrobatic, match-winning save? Or the

humorous/moving/offensive football chants and songs?

Mostly, they’re being drowned out by the unrelenting

water-torture beehive hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm of South African

vuvuzela trumpets. Damn them. They are stripping World Cup 2010 of

football’s aural artistry.

Vuvuzela apologists – a few more weeks of this brainless white

noise will perhaps change, or melt, their minds – defend the din as

simply part of the South African experience. Each country to its

own, they say. When in Rome, blah, blah, blah.

Which would be fine if this was purely a South African

competition. Fans could then legitimately hoot away to their

hearts’ content while annoying no one other than their immediate

neighbors.

But this is the World Cup, a celebration of the 32 nations that

qualified and of all the others that did not but which still play

and love the game. Hosting planet football brings responsibilities.

At the very least, South Africa should ensure that the hundreds of

millions of visitors who come in goodwill to its door, both in

person and via the magic of television, do not go home with a

migraine. How many TV viewers who long for a more nuanced

soundtrack to go with the show have already concluded that the only

way to enjoy this World Cup is by pressing mute on their

remote?

In Tweeting “No offense to the vuvuzela posse but, man, it’s a

bit much,” seven-time Tour de France champion Lance Armstrong was

not alone.

Attending or watching a match should be a feast for both the

eyes and the ears. Those two senses work better together, each

augmenting the other.

Sounds should ebb and flow like tides with the fortunes on the

field. That adds to the drama. Fans reacting with their voices to

action on the pitch, to events in the stadium and to each other’s

sounds, songs and chants are part of football’s theater.

A sudden crowd silence can also tell a story – perhaps of the

heartbreak of a late, defeat-inflicting goal or of the collective

shock of seeing a player horribly injured by a bad tackle.

Sometimes, you should even be able to hear a coach bark orders from

the touchline or players shouting at each other for the ball.

There are stadium sounds other than vuvuzelas at this World Cup

– just not enough of them. They are being bullied into submission

by the trumpets’ never-ending screech.

In Rustenburg there were scattered unison chants of

“In-ger-land, In-ger-land,” a few bars of “God Save the Queen”

and the occasional “USA! USA!” when England played the United

States on Saturday night. But vuvuzelas ultimately won the battle

of the bands. They and the result – a disappointing 1-1 tie –

silenced England’s fans, who usually are among the best-drilled

noisemakers in football.

They take their singing seriously, with chants that are cheeky,

taunting and often just insulting. But at least they are inventive,

too.

The same cannot be said of vuvuzelas. They are simply mindless.

Their pitch doesn’t change, just the intensity. Blow hard. Blow

soft. The only range is from horrifically loud to just annoyingly

so. Because of that, we absolutely could not hear the rich African

voices of Ghana fans who sang lustily Sunday at the Loftus Versfeld

in Pretoria, vibrantly clothed in their national colors of green

and red. What a shame.

Please, South Africa, make the trumpets stop. Give us a song,

instead.

John Leicester is an international sports columnist for The

Associated Press. Write to him at jleicester(at)ap.org.