[Chapter 799: The Hottest in History]
A huge plan was swirling around in Soros's head. His backing was indeed the Federal Reserve, but expecting him to fully comply was impossible. Once a sufficiently large benefit appeared, even the Fed would be helpless.
What Soros hadn't anticipated was that he wasn't the only one focusing on the emerging economies. There were eyes always watching this disruptor.
On June 17th, William White felt a bit of heat in his rear. Damn it, a kickoff ceremony at this time was utterly absurd. He should have gone to Montana; at least that would be cooler.
"Is it really this hot, William?"
"Damn, why Chicago? Wouldn't Montana have been better? Haha, you're actually wearing a suit."
Bush Jr. shot him a look, somewhat unconvinced. What he needed right now was attention. Besides, what kind of fool wears a basketball jersey and shorts anyway?
"Look, George, I let you wear your sports attire today. You don't want the legendary team? What about the US team?"
"Today's match is Germany vs. Bolivia. What's with the club's jersey? Good lord, I shouldn't be sitting next to you."
William White certainly realized how inappropriate it was. However, whether he cared or not was secondary. The Major League here was rather lacking, and taking advantage of the World Cup to promote was better than nothing.
Americans really liked soccer?
Looking around the packed stadium, fans all over the world were puzzled. Didn't Americans only play football? It turned out they liked soccer too.
Cough-cough, they were actually mistaken; there were people playing every sport in the US. Even that very mediocre ping pong.
Winning many gold medals didn't matter much; public participation in sports was far more important.
"Did the match end already? Were there any goals?"
"Hahaha, it's fine. One to zero. I was thinking, if it ended in a draw, oh my, would all seventy thousand fans go nuts?"
"Ahem, well, William, there were indeed fewer goals. Poor Bolivia; they should've at least scored one."
"The defending champions are always tough to beat. It's been four years; the world has studied your tactics and your players. It's just that their bus is pretty solid. Not bad, not bad. Of course, the opening ceremony was more spectacular. That shot when the goalpost collapsed was just perfect."
"William, are you staying in Chicago, or going back to Los Angeles?"
"Of course I'm heading back. You know I've had some issues with Motorola lately. Never mind, it's better not to annoy them on their turf."
"Well, I'm also leaving. The opening ceremony was passable. Let's hope our boys can create some miracles."
"They will; even if they don't go very far, they might not be entirely useless."
The World Cup stadium certainly lacked the excitement of club matches, especially the atmosphere in the English Premier League. The team at the highest level certainly wasn't in the Premier League, but in terms of excitement, they were the best.
"Is investing in soccer really profitable?"
"You're joking, George. Soccer might still seem mediocre now, but it will definitely be big later."
"Hmm. By the way William, what's the situation in Rwanda?"
"I don't know; my people are far away. Judging by the number of refugees fleeing, this is a disaster for humanity."
Bush Jr. shrugged, somewhat unaffected. Since these folks didn't like others interfering, that was just fine. The good thing is Pentagon didn't get involved; otherwise it would be quite a heavy burden.
The two were chatting on the airplane, and time flew by quickly. Bush Jr. was actually grumbling internally that the flight his dad booked turned out to be cheaper than Clinton's.
...
Once off the plane, the weather remained hot. It felt like it was the hottest year in recent years. Concerned about athletes suffering heatstroke, this World Cup allowed drinking water. You can imagine how hot it truly was.
FIFA wasn't concerned about how hard it was for athletes. You can't rely on Europe to develop this. As for South America? Cough-cough, their economic situation was average; it wasn't much help either.
"Hmph, why do you think of me today?"
"Nastassja, you saying this really hurts my feelings. I rushed back with great effort, and you're so unfeeling."
"Pfft, your two women have gone to Lanai, right? Hmph, you thought I wouldn't know?"
"Cough, I think so, but it's not important. I came to see you first; that's the main point."
"Alright, alright, how was the game? Were the viewers disappointed?"
"It's okay; at least one goal was scored. Good lord, you have no idea how worried I was."
"Hahaha, let's just hope America doesn't lose too badly, dear; you should send them off to Milan."
"Why? I have Manchester United; what's Milan got?"
"Pfft, I'm a fan of AC Milan. You shouldn't have bought Manchester United; AC Milan is much better."
William White just smiled and said nothing. Serie A was certainly good. Surely, you thought the little World Cup was just a casual mention? But alas, they had too many match-fixing incidents; or rather, the clubs were too focused on results.
You guys keep rigging matches, and it's killing the bookmakers. In such an atmosphere, who would want to invest in the league?
Oh well, the bookmakers were also resolute, literally digging up the cables. They said let's just replay it; this time doesn't count.
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