Shalzed wanted to learn more about Earth culture, so I invited him to join me in watching a World Cup game at “The Final Score,” a sports bar near my apartment. When we arrived they were showing Canada’s opening match.

A waiter handed us a menu, then asked if we wanted anything to drink right away. “I’ll have the big apple,” I told him. The waiter looked at Shalzed, who glanced at me. “Bring him one also,” I said.

Shalzed was immediately captivated by the game on the big screen, but then he seemed confused by the momentary excitement when a Canadian player took a shot on goal that went just above the crossbar. “They almost scored,” I told him.

“But it was quite clear from the ball’s velocity and launch angle, combined with Earth’s weak gravitation, that even the random motion of the atmosphere you call wind could not possibly have redirected it to pass into that structure,” he said.

“Sure,” I replied. I wondered if on his planet they had actual sports or more what we would call a math Olympics. The news came on the one tv in the corner that didn’t have sports, and that got Shalzed’s attention. It showed a picture of the FIFA ball in front of Toronto’s stadium covered with a sign that said, ‘Kick Israel out of FIFA.”

“Is Canada playing against Israel?” Shalzed asked. “I thought. . .”

“No,” I interrupted. “Israel isn’t even in the tournament. They just always protest against Israel, no matter what.”

“But why?” Shalzed asked. “They should protest against Canada, since it was recently accused of genocide by an international tribunal. Or they should protest the countries that do have teams in the tournament. Saudi Arabia murders and abuses migrants, discriminates against women. . .”

“They don’t care,” I interrupted. “They just target Israel.”

“But why would they single out one country? If the human rights movement violates its own principles, what good can it do?”

The waiter returned and placed our mugs on the table. Shalzed stared. “That’s not an apple,” he said.

I laughed. “It’s a cider,” I said. “Try it.”

Shalzed took a sip. “It tastes. . . unusual,” he said. “I don’t understand what it has to do with apples.

“It’s apple juice that’s fermented,” I said.

Shalzed sighed. “You humans are so confusing.”