Hello and welcome back this week to Factually Deficient, where any question your heart could desire will be answered with the most absurd falsehoods your mind might crave! As always, this opening paragraph is reserved for my heartfelt pleas that you, my favourite people ever, continue to send me questions about facts and truth, so that I can answer them with fiction and lies.
This week’s question comes from Mr. Jack Alsworth:
Why exactly is the World Cup called the “World Cup”? And the Super Bowl confuses me for the same reason.
This is an excellent question, my good sir, especially in light of the confusion in recent days regarding what exactly is a World Cup. Fortunately for all of us, your question has come to the right place.
Many years ago, in the dawn of time (before Jim United shared his land with his siblings, before even the great schism between pines and spruces), when the world was young, in addition to the average size dinner sets, there were some of larger than average size. Massive dinner plates, super bowls, gigantic silverware, world-sized cups– you name it, they had it. And, once, these items were widely available, for people of larger than average size and/or larger than average appetite.
But the problem with elephantine dinnerware is, true to the aphorism which goes “The larger they are, the harder they fall,” they are extremely breakable due to their large size. Around the world, these oversized dinner sets began to break, and due to the expense involved in investing so much material into one item, they fell out of production, until only a few pieces from a few disparate sets remained.
These pieces, for the most part, became renowned and even nicknamed in honour of their large size– among them, of course, the items in Mr. Alsworth’s question, the “Super” Bowl and the “World” Cup.
Once, still, these special cups and plates were ready to be purchased by anyone who had the desire and the sufficient funds to acquire them. However, world opinion gradually shifted, and people felt that such a magnificent utensil was too valuable to be on the open market. Instead, for a time, these items were gifted to those individuals who exemplified all things meritorious in their society.
But, especially in today’s world, merit is increasingly difficult to gauge, and even more difficult to find. One young man named Stanley, who had earned his massive cup on his own merit, decided, when he despaired of finding anyone worthy of being bequeathed it in the traditional way, that he would instead endow his eponymous large drinking cup to whosoever proved particularly excellent at the sport of sportsball, of which Mr. Stanley was a fan.
Inspired by this young man’s example, the remaining oversized dinnerware pieces became likewise dedicated to winners of sportsball, in lieu of quantifiably meritorious people.
Perhaps, had they known what a purpose it would have been bent to had it survived, the owners of the last Massive Plate would not have mourned its loss when it smashed, but rather rejoiced that it was spared such an indignity; or perhaps they would have hastened more to save it in order to donate it themselves to that very cause: we will never know.
Disclaimer: Most if not all of the assertions in this blog are patently false. The writer neither explicitly condemns nor explicitly supports players/games of sportsball, and there is no truth to the rumour that she owns a secret replica of the Massive Plate.