Can we not imagine The Rump picking up the phone, and the following conversation taking place:
Hi Gianni, how are you today?
Oh hi Don. I’m good. How are you?
I’m good. Listen, Gianni, I’ve been thinking. Since our man had such a great game yesterday between two warring nations, have you thought about rewarding him by giving him the Final on Sunday? It would also be a way to thank the United States for being the host country [sic] of this fabulous tournament.
I’ve been thinking along the same lines, Don.
Terrific. I guess Pierluigi won’t be too happy as he’s kept all those other guys here to be in with a shout, eh?
Oh don’t worry about Pierluigi. I call him Sandie nowadays anyway.
I don’t get it, Gianni.
[There now follows a brief discussion of the Eurovision Song Contest and singers
with bare feet, which I shall not bore you with].
So that’s settled then, Gianni. Our man for the Final. I know he’s of Moroccan descent but he’s an American citizen and that’s what counts. Ciao Gianni.
Ciao Don. See you on Sunday.
[I’m only joking of course. I mean, such outside interference with the appointing
process of a World Cup Final would never take place. Would it

??]