Before the World Cup started I saw an article on Facebook claiming that while 90% of the world would be watching this global event, only 1/3 of my beloved countrymen would be joining.
I thought of my friend group, realizing that while most people I'm close with fall into that 33%, the split in spectators and difference in sports fans often comes down to global awareness and education. I went to a small college where most people I know not only studied abroad, but studied abroad with required research projects on the Masai or signing language contracts while living with a host family in Europe. We love the world and we love the world's game.
Traveling in a powerhouse continent for this beautiful sport, I was never at a shortage for places to watch a game. I unfortunately left Argentina just as the pursuit began, watching the first group games from Lima. Staying with my sister I didn't have cable or a TV "at home", pushing me to find a bar. After traveling for so long I never hesitated to just plop into a place, as many locals do. You don't have to buy a drink or a snack or have a single friend with you, unlike anywhere in the States.
I found myself at a hostel I wasn't staying at for about half the games, picking new names of staff members there each time to claim "I was visiting". Julio, Mike, you name it, I was their guest at one point or another. I drank the free coffee and bought nothing from the bar.
During another stretch I had a view of the Pacific Ocean to my left out the door as I sat in an outdoor courtyard with a bar and TV. In between games I plopped into the ocean with my surfboard, checking back in on scores when the waves were minimal.
I watched in fancy hotel lobbies, airport bars, garden patios, and our own hotel rooms. I occasionally bought food, sometimes took a seat, often pretended I was from one country or another depending on who was playing, and nearly cried for many nationalities and disappointments (my teams are as follows and in this order: Spain, USA, England/Argentina). I painted my face with national colors, wore colored hats, and draped myself and my beverages in a few flags.
South America was the perfect place to watch this World Cup. I met dozens of fans making their way east to Brasil through Argentina and followed their crazy journeys to soccer/fútbol paradise, living vicariously through them.
My only regret? Being back in the US for the final three games. I found more disdain and hate for soccer and for the countries playing in these games here than I've ever found. I realized how closed-minded so many of my countrymen are, being labeled as the crazy liberal who thinks soccer a "real sport".
For the record, old man and friends and acquaintances I had to hear it from: when you complain about how "boring" soccer is, how they're whiny and the game is slow and "why aren't there stoppages or commercial breaks?!" I want you to think on what I see. I see people who fear change, who perpetuate a closed-minded North American opinion of superiority and therefore inability to join this global society. I question your ability to appreciate competitive pursuits, thinking your fanaticism for American football has more to do with the Doritos commercial at the next down than the beauty of a game or the finesse of the athlete. Soccer is beautiful, in the same way that hockey has few goals or basketball has points at almost every change in possession. It's a dance, slow moving at times with incredible bursts of touch and strength. It's a game everyone can play, in all parts of the world, creating a true stage of nations. And I've said it before and I'll say it again... If you don't like soccer, you must not like music, dance, or foreplay.
No comments:
Post a Comment