This match was judged by Hal Hlavinka. For more info on the World Cup of Literature, read this,<\/a> and download<\/a> the bracket.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWelcome on this glorious summer evening to another match in the 2014 World Cup of Literature! We\u2019re here in beautiful Brazil, where Bosnia and Herzegovina faces off against Iran. I\u2019m Chaz Flippo, here with the lovely Cindy Mignon on point to call the match for readers tonight.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s right Chaz, we\u2019ll be taking you through the pregame here momentarily as both countries get ready to square off with their strongest recent books: Sa\u0161a Stani\u0161i\u0107\u2019s How the Soldier Repairs the Gramophone<\/em> for Bosnia and Mahmoud Dowlatabadi\u2019s The Colonel<\/em> for Iran.\u201d \u201cThe books are in the tunnel now, getting their covers\u2019 straight, stretching those sentences and phrases and prepping for any and all narrative turns.\u201d \u201cChaz, what would you say is the goal for each team in this matchup today?\u201d \u201cWell, to put it bluntly, Cindy: goals! Ha ha!\u201d \u201cHa ha! Indeed, Chaz, and when you get one strong chapter to the back of the net it only takes another to really help conclude the whole thing.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s right Cindy, the key will be control, pacing, and, if we\u2019re lucky, a little twist thrown in for good measure.\u201d \u201cI\u2019ve heard that the Iranian book has a particularly nasty little turn set up for the start of the match, with the Colonel\u2019s wife getting executed by his own\u2014\u201d \u201cTut tut, Cindy! We don\u2019t want to get ahead of our readers here. That would be like jumping to the Bosnian war section of How the Soldier<\/em>, where Aleksandar deliberately changes the name of\u2014\u201d \u201cChaz, please! Look at us here, giving all the spoilers away.\u201d \u201cWe\u2019ll be more careful, dear readers! It\u2019s a wonderful day for a match, the field glowing green under the hot jungle sun, beating down on your head like you just spent all night in the jungle talking to god!\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s, uhmm, that\u2019s right, Chaz!\u201cAnd here come the books now! The Colonel<\/em> is hand in hand with the youth escorts.\u201d \u201cMy are those some spritely future football players accompanying The Colonel<\/em>.\u201d \u201cYes yes, to be sure, but I have to admit to you, Cindy, the Iranian looks a little old for this match\u2014just a little too wrinkled walking out there hand in hand with the children.\u201d \u201cThere was some talk in the WCoL\u2019s Governing Powers about the The Colonel<\/em>\u2019s age, but apparently it slipped right through. One wonders, with these things, how much of this might have to do with a briefcase or two.\u201d \u201cTut tut, my girl, let\u2019s not jump to any conclusions. Conclusions make the head pound, and, to be frank, I had quite a long night last night. You see, I had something of and adven\u2014\u201d \u201cNot now, Chaz, not right during coverage.\u201d \u201cOh and how marvelous! Here comes How the Soldier<\/em>, walking tall and proud as ever. You know, this Bosnian book really might have what it takes to make it deep into the later rounds. It has the playfulness, the rigor, the complexity to really mix things up here tonight and come out ahead.\u201d \u201cIf it can manage to handle The Colonel<\/em>\u2019s dense, elliptical style, well, sure, but I wouldn\u2019t count on it. The Iranians are lucky enough to be represented by a book that was banned in their own country, so you can imagine what a feat of writing it must be.\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s a dark book, to be sure, but one wonders, watching it warm up before the match, if it\u2019s perhaps a little too relentless, a little too brooding. But really, last night was the most marvelous night of all my years.\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t you think it can wait?\u201d \u201cTut tut, Cindy! Always business first! Oh, and would you look at that! One of the Bosnian escorts is doing pirouettes right there on the pitch! How fun!\u201d \u201cHe\u2019s all hands and feet, isn\u2019t he Chaz? All hands and feet, that one. My what a lovely cultural moment this all is. That\u2019s really the only way you can put it, a lovely cultural moment.\u201d \u201cCindy, I\u2019ve been milling around the stadiums, and I\u2019ve seen the beaches and the beautiful people and the architecture and all that\u2019s peachy, but last night I saw something more.\u201d \u201cYes, let\u2019s just say peachy and end it there, Chaz.\u201d \u201cI\u2019ve taken to spending lots of time outside the heavily guarded, fenced off areas of the cities, and Cindy, let me tell you about a friend I made last night named Mr. Huasca.\u201d \u201cChaz I don\u2019t think that\u2019s very appropriate for our readers.\u201d \u201cNo no, that\u2019s alright, everything is alright now. It was all like the dream of the breath from a god playing a flute.\u201d \u201c. . .\u201d \u201cI awoke this morning with birds all a flutter in my head, deep in the jungle, ready for the game, and ready to tell my story.\u201d \u201cWell we\u2019re just a few minutes away from kicking off the next exciting match in the World Cup of Literature, and\u2014\u201d \u201cAnd, if you\u2019d excuse me for one moment, I can tell you what it feels like to squirm around in football\u2019s primordial soup.\u201d \u201cChaz, please, not ag\u2014\u201c \u201cNo no no, it\u2019s alright, it\u2019s alright, it\u2019s topical. You see, I was staying over at my grandparents house, the ones that grew up right around Kent\u2014this was, say, forty years ago, in the vision of course\u2014and, and this is all in my head, you see, because my grandma and papa are long since dead, but here I found myself, lying on my back under their kitchen table watching all of their feet stir by, their loafers and slippers speeding past, keeping to the rhythm of the music coming from the gramophone, the kind you hear in a dream, sleigh bells and clarinets and French horns\u2014oh yes, the French horns!\u2014filling up the space like a vapor, my grandparent\u2019s making laps around the\u2014\u201d \u201cChaz, I really thi\u2014\u201d \u201ckitchen shuttling plates from counter to counter, and I can hear my parents in the other room drinking cocktails with my auntie and uncle, prattling on about my marks\u2014or lack thereof ha ha!\u2014in voices that seem almost to well up from inside my own head and pop out and around a little hale from ear to ear and then slip right back inside, breaking apart into a million pieces, these voices, and out of nowhere\u2014and this was really out of nowhere, you see, like out of some void right there at the room\u2019s edge\u2014comes a giant black dog, skulking low and sniffing\u2014\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s really not appro\u2014\u201d \u201cat every surface, pushing his giant maw under every shoe, every chair, the table cloth, the placemats, everything, coming closer and closer, the size of a pony, smelling of meat and sweat and garbage, and he\u2019s coming closer and closer, pushing the chairs out the way now to put his giant nose right in front of me, right over my head, and then he\u2019s opening his mouth, he\u2019s baring his teeth, his tongue dangling loosely over my hair like the floppy flaps in a car wash, and I hear a rumbling coming from the pit of his stomach, and then a heaving, a heavy, hollow, heaving pushing right up out of from his belly and through his chest, and my hands are bound by my sides with some invisible force\u2014I was a worm, in fact, my hands and feet were no longer separate dangles but all one body, one worm-body, so I\u2019m totally helpless beneath this table, this music, these people, this dog, and just as I\u2019m sure he\u2019s going to vomit all over my head, what comes out of his mouth, but a giant football. And I knew right then and there just what I had to\u2014\u201d \u201cCHAZ! Chaz, listen to me here. Are you okay? You look faint. Would you like me to get you a doctor?\u201d \u201cI ate it.\u201d \u201cAte what? You really should drink some water and maybe get some sleep. You look as white as a\u2014\u201d \u201cThe vomit football.\u201d \u201c. . .\u201d \u201cIn the vision, I wiggled up like a worm and ate it.\u201d \u201cChaz, this is hardly the time.\u201d \u201cI used my tongue to scoop it up and once it was in my throat it just dissolved\u2014\u201d \u201cWe\u2019re just seconds away from the start of this round\u2019s match\u2014\u201d \u201cand I felt a great calm.\u201d \u201c\u2014between the Bosnians and the Iranians for the chance to take on Honduras in the semi\u2014\u201d \u201cI was like a child again.\u201d \u201c\u2014finals, the chance of a lifetime to play for country\u2014\u201d \u201cLike a little boy hiding.\u201d \u201c\u2014people\u2014\u201d \u201cLike a little coward, ha ha!\u201d \u201c\u2014and literature.\u201d \u201cThere I was, a worm under a dog beneath a table inside a dream, munching on a football!\u201d \u201cAnd the match starts, with The Colonel taking possess\u2014\u201c \u201cLet me just get down here on the ground and replay the scene. Would you kindly hold my pants?\u201d \u201cChaz, no!\u201d<\/p>\n Bosnia-Herzegovina: 1 \u2014 Iran: 0<\/p>\n