Good morning, Hank, it's Monday, and uh...you're gonna die.

You're gonna die and I'm gonna die and everyone we've ever loved is gonna die and then one day there will be no one left to remember that anyone ever did anything! And because there will be no one left to remember the books we wrote or the World Cups we won or the mathematical proofs we proved or the in-your-pants jokes we made, someday, it will be as if those things never happened. Hank, I remember one time when I was at the planetarium at the Orlando Science Center when we were kids and they explained that in about six billion years or whatever the earth is gonna fall into the sun, or some--I don't remember, I'm not good at science.

But anyways, it was the first time I ever had to grapple with the fact that the habitability of the universe itself is temporary. And I asked a question about it and my teacher was like, "Aw, but it's a long way away," and I thought, well, it seems like a long way away to you, teacher, because you're old! I'm eight!

It's very plausible that with advances in medical science I could live for six billion years! Now, Hank, some people seem to think that talking about death or endings or the inevitable temporariness of the entire human experiment is somehow pessimistic or nihilistic. But, Hank, I thought your video on Friday which so brilliantly explored games and losing and non-attachment was actually quite optimistic.

What you pointed out in your video is that while we don't get to choose whether we're going to lose the games we play, we do get to choose which games those are. We don't get to choose whether to care, but we do get to choose what to care about. And when I find myself caring about a game I like to be challenged to think about whether that game helps the people who are here with me now, whether it honors those who came before me, and whether it paves the way for those who come after me.

Because all this is temporary, but we have a say in how temporary it is. By the way, somebody gave me an anglerfish. It's cute, right?

I choose nerdfighting and I choose books and yes, even though it's silly, I choose the World Cup. Because it transcends geography and ethnicity and wealth and politics and puts the world where we belong--playing on the same grass with the same ball. Actually, dumbass, it takes more than one ball to play a World Cup soccer match.

Yeah, I realize that, but if I had said "playing with the same balls," you would have been like, "heheheheheheh he said 'playing with balls.'" That's right, I would've. By the way, who's the lucky guy who gets to have the pair of balls that the whole world plays with? Shut up, Mister Filthypants, I'm trying to make a point here.

So, Hank, your brilliant video on Friday did not make me change my mind about whether to watch the World Cup. But it did force me to think about why I care about soccer and it also reminded me that caring is a choice. And I'm grateful to you for that.

So grateful, in fact, that you have inspired me to make a World Cup episode of Truth or Fail in the hopes that by sharing in the hope that by sharing my World Cup knowledge with you, I might turn you into a football fan. So, Hank, don't forget to be awesome, I will see you on Wednesday, and here's Truth or Fail! Hi, there, you're watching the World Cup Edition of Truth or Fail, YouTube's only game show.

And I am watching Spain play Switzerland. Sorry, but I've watched every single World Cup match since 1994, and I am not going to let this edition of Truth or Fail break my streak. Here's how the game works: I'm gonna tell you two purported facts and you're either gonna click on the true one, or you're gonna click on the wrong one and fail worse than England at a World Cup penalty shootout.

Here's your first set of facts. Fact One: The goal the United States scored against England in the so-called "Miracle on Grass" 1950 World Cup was in fact not scored by an American but by a Haitian. Or, Fact Two: The term "soccer" is derived from the fact that early football players often played not in cleats, but in their socks.