A heartfelt reflection, written four hours before the World Cup begins.
Every four years, the World Cup sweeps across the entire internet right on schedule.
Trending hashtags flood the screen, social media feeds buzz, bars and barbecue stalls are brightly lit (though the time zone for the US, Canada, and Mexico is indeed quite unfriendly), and passersby casually discuss upsets and last-minute winners—as if, in an instant, we've all become die-hard fans.
Of course, some people treat the World Cup as a "startup venture," so Brother Di advises everyone to stay rational...
The excitement is temporary.
Once the glamour and noise fade, we must admit the simplest truth: Chinese people, in fact, aren't that fond of football.
True passion is a long-term commitment.
And football has never become a daily habit or a preference for the majority.
Many people, misled by the nationwide atmosphere during the World Cup, mistakenly think football is our favorite sport and a mass activity deeply rooted in everyday life.
But this frenzy is essentially just a collective emotional carnival happening once every four years—a rare entertainment diversion in people's mundane lives, not something coming from the heart.
What we truly love is never the sport of football itself, but the thrilling atmosphere, suspense, and passion that the World Cup brings.
To put it more bluntly, it's purely about joining the crowd.
Among Brother Di's followers, there must be hardcore football fans. If you see this expression, please don't argue or debate.
I'm speaking about the majority.

Writing this post is by no means a criticism of Chinese people for not loving football.
This is never a prejudice; it's simply an inevitable outcome of life choices.
The popularity of any sport depends on a suitable living environment.
A genuine, deeply rooted fondness never needs grand events to create hype or hot topics to sustain it.
Only those loves that can run through daily life, fit into our routines, and remain simple and pure can truly take root and grow.
Now, the once-every-four-years wind has arrived again, and the excitement is back.
But I've long understood.
The World Cup is always just a passing gust.
The wind can stir up temporary noise, but it cannot blow out deep cultivation of the sport.
China has never experienced a nationwide football craze—only one fleeting and illusory fervor after another.
Who's popular in Chinese football lately?
Dong Lu and his Chinese Football Little Heroes.
The U12 team winning a championship in an Italian tournament, a young player doing a backflip, and another bringing his talent to La Masia have all trended on social media.
But this isn't the first time the Football Little Heroes have achieved good results on the world stage.
And Dong Lu's project started back in 2017.
Over the past nine years, hasn't he been criticized as an "influencer" and "showman," ostracized by peers, and maliciously reported?
The backflip on the trending list is justthat moment, after years of deep cultivation, when it finally gets noticed.
But most of us only like winning...

What's more real is that the vast majority of Chinese people's enthusiasm for football has always remained at the level of watching others play, never translating into personal participation.
During the World Cup, everyone becomes a tactical master, freely discussing formations, strategies, and player stories, cheering for goals and sighing over upsets.
As a basketball blogger, I have to return to my own field and say a few words:
Given what's been said above, I think it's understandable, from a certain perspective, that Chinese football hasn't achieved results and hasn't made the World Cup.
But if the national basketball team ends up in its current state... they have no right whatsoever to constantly drag the national football team and show off their superiority.
Because Chinese people really do love basketball.
On this point, I never lie.
