Posted by John Brewin

JOHANNESBURG -- A rest day, two of them in fact, what now for the frazzled football journalist? Tuesday was the 19th straight day of matches. I myself have traveled to 16 games on those days, a quarter of all fixtures that will be played in this tournament, though I lag far behind a colleague and friend who has attended one a day, no quarter asked and none given either. Of the 32 teams who made their way to these finals, I have seen 22 play. Despite the fulsome and hugely welcome list of things to do and see on this pair of free days, there are definite withdrawal symptoms being felt.

It barely seems a proper day without the strapping on of accreditation pass, a scramble for desk space in a packed media center and a queue for match tickets that must be swiftly followed by careful negotiations for mixed zone or news conference passes. My friends and family must beware on my return to England; I have become institutionalized and am beginning to fear if I can actually talk about anything other than football. How will I be able to stomach anything other than the chicken burgers that are actually the only-in-any-way-approaching-edible items from the FIFA media food concession? Will the experiments with heavy caffeine use that have sustained my tired mind and body have any long-term effects on my health?

For four of the venues that have hosted South Africa 2010, the show is already over, the circus having skipped town for the last time. My visit to Pretoria on Tuesday saw the bringing down of the World Cup curtain on Loftus Versfeld, a stadium I have enjoyed. As with Rustenberg on the previous Saturday, the staff was making sure that we knew that this would the last time, to paraphrase fellow stadium denizen Mick Jagger. The ending of the later Portugal-Spain clash saw the flat-screen televisions that relay matches, news conferences and other information to journalists not just being switched off but dismantled before our very eyes. Nor were the handy fact sheets that tell the story of each game handed out. This place was closing for business.

Despite an announcement claiming the center would be open again Wednesday, it will be a husk of a building that greets the hardy journalistic visit to Loftus on Wednesday. You'll be lucky to get a packet of crisps, let alone a chicken burger.

Just eight teams left too, with a healthy supply of surprise packages to stand in for the European giants whose performances have flown in the face of heavy pre-tournament endorsements and advertising. There is something refreshing in that, a proof that a World Cup cannot yet, on the field at least, be dictated to by commerce. This is not yet fully an entertainment franchise, despite the attitude of some of its audience.

For me, there is a fortnight to go in South Africa, and a maximum of four more games to attend, if I retain vain and vague hopes of getting into the final itself. The end will soon be nigh. And that's a very confusing emotion indeed.