Disappointed by the greeting received in France, our travellers decided to go to Great Britain whose Fortunate Bigboss had praised the scrupulous respect of the habeas corpus to them.

They arrived to London to one moment when the spirits started to warm up. A historical event was going to proceed in an immense London stadium. The English national team of football, made up of Brazilian, Italian, French, Portuguese, South Korean, Russian, German, Algerian, Norwegian, South-African and a Nigerian, plus three substitutes (a North-Korean, an Ukrainian and a native of the British Islands) was going to meet, in an international final, the national team of football of South Africa, made up of English, Scot, Chinese, Chilean, Canadian, Hungarian, Bielorussian, Japanese, Croatian, Canadian, Pakistani, plus three substitutes (Icelandic, Finnish and Greenlander).

On the occasion of this vital confrontation for the future of the United Kingdom and that of its ex-member of the Commonwealth, the medias had been mobilized.

With television, distant natural cataclysms (floods, civil wars, earthquakes, inter-monk massacres, of more than 1.000 km and less than 1.000 victims) were ignored. Quasi-sacrilege: the adventures of the everyday life of the royal family came from there to be neglected. Only imported the moods and the gastric tummy rumblings of the national heroes (?).

The tabloids were not indebted. The private life of the gods of the stadium was dissected until in its least details: sorrows of heart, joys of the wallet, divorces and companions, sexual and food manners, small disappointments and great hopes, all the small details of the heroes of the round balloon made howl the impressive rotary presses of the powerful groups of press. Whole forests had disappeared, transformed into enormous paper rollers which fed the insatiable curiosity of an avid readership to know the last whims of his idols.

The rising generations did not have anything to envy their elder. Any child, of some sex which he was, with some social or cultural background which he belonged, was to practise the religion of the round balloon. Most gifted aspired to becoming future actors, the least endowed, but not the least impassioned, reinforcing the rows of the supporters.

Like any religion, the round balloon had its priests and its financial. The financial ones negotiated the contracts, transferred competences, bought, sold and repurchased the players, adulterated the receipts, placed on the Stock Exchange... in short, managed the shop. The priest-leaders maintained the dogma and supported proselytism by many ceremonies celebrated in immense sites-stadiums in which took part of tens of thousands of faithful.

Fortunate Bigboss, which had revealed with our travellers all the mysteries of the new religion, was assailed by questions by his companions.

Candide: " If I seized well all that you described us, it acts of the emergence of a new civilization ".

Pangloss: " With its values, its heroes, its epics, its myths... "

Martin: " Its weaknesses and its ignominies! "

Fortunate Bigboss: " It is exact. It is all that ".

Candide: "With new ideals! "

Fortunate Bigboss: "Yes. The aspiration of million young people, it is stardom ".

Pangloss: "It is the knighthood of the third millenium. It is admirable! "

Martin: "That seems to me a bit mean like ideal ".

Candide: "Why ? It is comforting to note that the third millenium opens on a new altruistic civilization which gathers crowds in a same faith, a same enthusiasm... "

His matter was brutally stopped by the demonstration of enthusiasm of the supporters of the two national teams which were going to clash the same evening.

Hundreds the enthusiastic ones of the English national team, whose enthusiasm had been boosted by the absorption of essential and many rations of stouts launched out to the attack of the supporters of the opposing team. The latter, of the hundreds of other enthusiastic, which had crossed thousands of kilometers to give their support for their idols were not indebted of enthusiasm.

The result of the confrontation of two enthusiasms was up to those: 8 deads, of tens of casualties, the hundreds of windows burst in hundreds of devastated streets, a few tens of vehicles flarings... No rape was deplored. The tradition was scrupulously respected.

Less enthusiastic, our travellers had managed to take refuge at the bottom of an immense pub whose only frontage and a few tens of tables had been ransacked. The rejoicings lasted a few hours during which Candide and his companions could comment on with leisure these merry events.

Cynical Martin drew the conclusion: " Your new civilization is rather devastating! "

Pangloss, not out of countenance, retorted: "As for any medal, there is a place and a back. We attended back there.... "

Candide: "And the place? "

Pangloss: "It is the splendid meetings where the valorous representatives of two people honestly clash! "

At 21 hours, the 253 hooligans which tried to invest the stadium were driven back by 13.500 police officers powerfully armed.

The historical meeting proceeded then without notorious incident: only two referees were molested, only three players were attacked by their adversaries, a small hundred enthusiastic spectators came to blows. Nothing exceptional. Except the result: a null match which made it possible to the organizers to program a new very profitable competition.

Martin succeeds in convincing his companions to leave Great Britain which had disappointed him.

Fortunate Bigboss decided to make them taste with the delights of the New World.