At my age, and having grown up in a Latin American country where fútbol is more than a sport, I have watched hundreds, perhaps thousands, of matches. I have seen Pelé and Bobby Moore. I have watched World Cups come and go. I have witnessed the transformation of the game from grainy black-and-white broadcasts to high-definition spectacles transmitted instantly around the globe. And yet, there is one part of every match I never skip.

Long before the opening whistle, before the first pass is completed or the first shot is taken, I find myself glued to the screen. The players emerge from the tunnel. Children accompany them onto the field. Flags are unfurled. Captains exchange pennants. National anthems are played. For a few brief moments, the game pauses before it has even begun.

It would be easy to dismiss these ceremonies as mere pageantry. After all, they do not change the score. They do not affect tactics or determine who will win. In an age of instant gratification, one could easily change the channel and return when the action starts. But I never do!

As the years pass, I find that these........

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