Time to return...

It's been a couple of days since the U.S. lost to Ghana 2-1 in the second round of the 2010 World Cup. It was time some of us needed to get over the disappointment, yet, hopefully, look positively at soccer in the U.S.

I was at the game, and from the stands, one could tell is was not like any of the previous three games. The U.S. had played England at this stadium two weeks earlier, so we kind of knew that the stadium did not lend itself to much emotion, at least in our view.

No need to go into the details of the effort it took to get to the stadium or to get out (debacle!), but I can tell you that it's a beat down. We had faced it two weeks ago, so we made sure to avoid some of the issues by arriving five hours before kickoff. NOTE: you can't park cars at ANY of the World Cup stadium, so you're left with utilizing the means provided by the local venue.

We met even more fans this time that were either stuck in traffic, in the long bus lines at the park n rides, or lost. Some fans were already walking in stressed, and then you notice that there is no one section of the stadium where a large majority of USA supporters are placed. Instead, everyone is spread out - unlike the Slovenia or Algeria game, where U.S. supporters filled in entires sections side-by-side.

Our Colorado group, sitting in the corner behind the goal where the goals where scored, tried to lead the chants and cheers, but the feeling in the stands was not there from the onset. It wasn’t loud – there weren’t enough fans to help spread the fun. And, there were so many fans supporting Ghana.

The crew that carries the big USA flag, often at the center of the fun, was sitting across the stadium in the first half. They saw our sections effort and found their way to our corner for the second half. It helped, but in the end I think we were all just spent.

When the U.S. tied the game, there wasn’t a new level or raised excitement. It was not the euphoria that you may expect, or that quite possibly you felt by watching it on TV. There was something missing in the stadium this day. Fans in general felt as tired as the players looked in that last overtime period. We had given it out all.

Many stayed to applaud the players. We made our way from row to row, section to section saying goodbye to so many that we'd seen at all four games. Fans of most MLS teams, that had traveled from all over the U.S., began to know us as the Colorado crew, because at least one us always had a Rapids' beanies or jerseys or sweatshirts on.

The taste of defeat is often shocking, for some reason. We had never discussed the U.S. winning the World Cup, but we were disappointed and sad when the game ended.

Why is that? Maybe because we still came to South Africa, thinking what if? Or because of the run the U.S. had that gave us optimism? Or maybe because of how positive the world seemed to be talking about soccer from the U.S. Or maybe because we just didn’t want the fun to end.

It doesn't end. The Rapids and British Bulldog will host another street party for the World Cup final on July 11, and I'm looking forward to being there (and at other partner bars for the Quarterfinals and semis). We'll all have another chance to come together again and remember how fun this ride was, and realize how bright the present and future of soccer is in Denver and throughout the U.S.

Time to return...

Witness to the drama!

Where do I begin; or better, how do I begin to explain what it was like to be in the stadium yesterday to witness the USA’s 1-0 win over Algeria.

It was game day, and the game was being played in our temporary hometown – a 15-minute walk.

Three hours before kickoff, I was already antsy. I wanted to get out to Hatfield Square to see how fans were arriving; check out the atmosphere hours before kickoff. Two of us took off while the rest of the crew applied the facepaint and otherwise prepped.

We walk on the street that borders Hatfield Square – it’s been closed off to traffic. The pedestrians – all Algerians!

I don’t know how it was coordinated, but the hundreds of Algerian walking the street were dressed almost exactly the same: in a white jersey and green sweatpants. They waved flags as they walked around chanting in their language. We understood the words Washington and Algerie – that’s it.

We decide to walk towards the stadium in search of what for sure had to be a large group of American fans, somewhere.

On our way we stop at a bar and see the first Americans fans, quietly eating at a couple of tables. This was definitely not the scene I had anticipated, and it was bit concerning given that it was only two hours from kickoff.

We begin to see more Americans flags as we approach the stadium, but not too many. We spot ABC / ESPN / Univision crews on the street. We also notice the raised level of police presence – and watch how closely cops are looking for scalpers.

Walking a little further, we find a shopping plaza with a restaurant that hosts about 200 hundred decked-out American fans. Finally!

We catch up with the rest of the group – they had all been at Hatfield Square for the past hour, and tell us it was a boring environment. We walk in to Loftus Versfeld Stadium about 30 minutes from kickoff, wondering how this crowd will look.

Coming out of the tunnel into the stands, we’re realize we’re in a sea of red, white, and blue. There are so many Americans, all already loud and ready.

The U.S. National Anthem comes on and from above a large U.S. flag begins to be unrolled down from row to row. We’re now under this 20’ by 40’ foot flag, singing the anthem louder than can be imagined - joined by the other thousands of neighboring American fans.

The chanting starts before kickoff. “USA, USA, USA…USA, USA, USAAAAA…USA, USA, USA, U.S.Aaaa, U.S. Aaaaa.”

We breathe a sigh of relief when Algeria hits the crossbar in the first minutes.

“Oh when the Yanks, go marching in. Oh when the Yanks, go marching in.”

We grab our faces and hold our heads when they call back Dempsey’s goal.

One guys pulls up the England score on his phone – they are winning, and we need them to tie.

We briefly sit down in amazement when Dempsey’s shot hits the post, and his rebound is wide.

“Stand up, for the USA. Stand Up, for the USA. Stand up, for the USA, stand up, for the USA!!”

We’ve had so many chances, but it’s not going in.

We look at each other, that look that says we’re all thinking the same thing: it could be one of those days where the ball just won’t go in.

We don’t stop, and neither does anyone in the entire section. We yell louder, making sure everyone can hear us. Our group has loud voices: what we start is quickly picked up and spreads through the section. The vuvuzelas have nothing on us today!

We’re in stoppage time, but the energy the players are showing makes the crowd stay strong and loud. We sense it. There's still a level of confidence that it CAN happen.

Tim Howard catches a soft shot, and we see Landon take off down the right. Howard hits him in stride, like a quarterback to wide receiver. Landon’s first touch advances the ball. Jozy Altidore and Clint Dempsey are right next to him. It’s a counter attack that has so much promise.

The chanting stops, it’s now quiet, it seems.

Landon passes right to Jozy, who enters the box. We couldn’t stand any taller, but try to so by getting on our toes.

Our heads move slowly as the players run by down below. Our eyes see Dempsey running in the middle. Jozy sends cross – which I think is a shot. Dempsey, the keeper, and a defender collide. Everything is in slow motion.

The ball is sitting 10 feet away from the keeper, who is on the ground. From the stands, we all think we can reach it to knock it in. Landon is there, and neatly touches it in the back of the net.

Hysteria in the stands. We have no idea how the player celebrated. A brief look at the assistant and central refs, and it looked like the goal stood. Did we really just see this?

Our group ends up rows apart – jumping up and down the entire section. Someone grabbed me from behind and gave me a massive bear hug. I have no idea who he was. I actually see an older American male crying two rows behind - he couldn’t even scream, couldn't believe this just happened. Tears of joy. The little kids in front of us were hugging each other. It's just a reaction - you do whatever comes to you to celebrate. You lose your head in emotion and joy!

We miss the final three minutes, just going crazy. Waving whatever we have up high, chanting, singing. Some just can’t. They can only hold their heads, mouths closed. Yes, you just witnessed that, I try to tell a few.

For the next 45 minutes, you would think the USA won the World Cup – it was so awesome to look around and see the madness, and be part of it. Three quarters of the stadium had emptied, but the U.S. fans remained in the stands. We see the players on the field looking up at the big screen watching the replay. They come over to the sidelines and give their routine waves and appreciation to. I wondered how cool the stands had to look to the players.

We see some fans from Colorado, evident with the big state flag they are waving, and stop for photos. After some 30 minutes of celebrating in a near empty stadium, fans begin to walk out. But, most stopped on the concourse – thousands, it appeared.

Our group, many who have been to many world cups, looked on from the side, smiling. To see so many American fans – and celebrating like the biggest soccer countries in the world – it was something to step back from and notice once again how far soccer in the U.S. has come. It was, just amazing.

Witness to the drama!

Ellis Park, USA Game Two

Our group with the two local kids entering the USA vs. Slovenia game.

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With USA gear on, we depart Petroria for Johannesburg, an hour drive to Ellis Park for the USA vs. Slovenia game. We've all seen the horrible call at the end of the game by now, so what follows is about the gameday experience, rather than the game action.

Since we had two cars, we agree to follow the signs to the Park n Ride near Ellis Park - it's a place where we can park our cars and take the free shuttles to the stadium. The highway ride is pleasant, meaning no traffic, but the smoke that is visible as we approach Johannesburg is amazing. The dry grass on the side of the highway and internal areas is literally on fire – we can see the flames, but can’t react fast enough with the cameras.

On one left turn, we find ourselves in a very different environment. We are on a street that I expected to see much earlier. So many locals had advised us against driving in neighborhoods that look like this, so you can imagine what goes through your mind when you’re driving through it.

A few blocks away, traffic slows as we near the stadium, and we are approached by no less than 30 people trying to get us to park on the hills and open spaces they are creating on the side of the road. No one seems official, and the number of people that approach our cars asking us to follow them to a spot is a bit intimidating. And, most of them are wearing different colored 'vests', some of which say security or guard and / or are ripped or faded.

We kept driving and eventually settled on a Park N Walk location, run by the city's World Cup organization. Once parked we enjoy a celebratory beverage and then begin our walk to the stadium.

It's possibly one of the cooler strolls I've taken to a game, through a neighborhood street in Johannesburg, South Africa. Houses on this street did not have electronic wires protecting their front yards. Instead, they had people grilling and selling all kinds of meat for those of us walking by.

A woman and child are holding up a hand-written sign inviting us to their school - which was turned into a bar to raise money.

A little further down, a larger group of little kids are cheering "USA, USA, USA," as we approach. They want pictures, and so do we.

Everyone we pass waves and say "hello," or "good luck." Some approach and ask how we like Africa. It's a bit touching to feel such love from a place that others had described to us as dangerous.

The final block to the stadium was filled with vendor tents and tables, selling all kinds of food and gifts. In a twist from other games, we actually had an extra ticket to this match from a buddy that couldn't make it. We see two little kids playing by their family's vendor tent and we want to try get them in the game. We see another American fan holding up one ticket, so we ask if he'd be willing to give it up so we could offer both kids a ticket to the game. The guy didn't want to.

A few minutes later, we see one of the little kids running from the tent and towards us, waving a ticket. It set us up perfectly to give our spare ticket to his relative / friend. If you could only have seen how big their eyes got when we asked if they wanted our extra ticket. They quickly run back to their family and then join us at the turn style.

Once inside we pose for a photo, the two kids only saying "too much" when we ask if they are excited. They can't contain their excitement and make a dash into the stadium. We find other friends and take up 10 standing spots in the top rows of the lower level.

There are many, many American fans in this section. We can see when arms are raised but can't hear what is being said - the vuvuzelas drown out any attempt to have unified singing.

When it appeared the U.S. tied the game, we all ended up all over the place, hugging and high-fiving everyone within a ten-row area. Within 30 seconds, we realized it had been taken away, no one with a clue as to why.

The comeback over and a point secured. We pose for many photos - with other Americans, with Slovenias, and with many African fans. Our return to the car allowed to stop back at the school, and order more food from the street vendors. We had just watched a great game. We believe we made two little kids very happy. It was a great experience.

Ellis Park, USA Game Two

The Annoying Vuvuzelas

If you've been watching or reading anything about the World Cup, you surely have an opinion about the vuvuzelas, the trumpets that are now a symbol of South Africa and this World Cup.

I'm going to take a minute to give my rant of this annoying instrument, from an in-stadium perspective (we've somewhat learned to tune them out when watching a game on TV, but it's much different in the stadium).

I've been to many soccer games around the world, and one of the aspects of the games I enjoy most are the fans: how they dress, celebrate, cheer, chant, sing. At this World Cup, any attempt at song by fans is almost completely killed by the sound of the horns, which, in my opinion, don't add any flavor to the atmosphere.

We've been to four games this week, and we've seen fans of the participating countries representing their colors in good numbers. We can see them jump around, pump their fists, wave their flags. But we can't hear them, even if they are only one section away. It's unlike any of the recent World Cups, where it felt like the section could be heard from across the stadium.

You're left hoarse after a game, as much for the attempted cheering as by trying to talk to the person next to you. I understand it's a popular way to enjoy a game down here. I just wish that for even short stretches of a game they would stop to allow the visiting fans to enjoy the game as they know how.

The Annoying Vuvuzelas

The Argentina game

After a failed attempt at scalping tickets for the South Africa vs Uruguay game that was right down the street, we moved on to our next attempt.

On Thursday morning, we drive down to Johannesburg to try to watch the Argentina vs. South Korea game at the new Soccer City stadium.

The hour-long trip takes longer because there is so much traffic. There is clearly an attempt being made by everyone to make the game experience smooth. However some things we may take for granted, stand out here.

For instance, signage. You can follow a sign to the stadium – but once off the exit ramp, and with the option of turning left or right, you may not see another stadium sign again, so you guess.

Or, as happened to us, when one traffic police person tells us to stop at an intersection, and another other across the way is waving us to drive. We’re stuck in the middle of a decision, watching the two argue.

We park in a casino parking lot and approach the police at the end of the road to ask for walking directions to the stadium. ALL of them tell us no: "it’s too far and too dangerous." We walk to the free shuttle buses about a block away and are on our way, arriving at the stadium 45 minutes from kickoff.

It’s really the first facility I’ve seen that has World Cup written all over it. It’s the size of any large stadium in the U.S., with huge parking lots and long sidewalks that lead up to it. It’s also far from anything, it appears, so the transport buses keep driving in unloading passengers.

After a few photos, two of us tickets at face value from a Canadian guy that is decked out in Argentina gear. Three of the guys find tickets, and then we get the final missing pair. With 30 minutes to go, we're all!

My seats were actually great, right at about midfield and high up. An awesome view of the field. We see the two huge flags the Korean unveil during their anthem. Amazing. One flag was at least 55 yards wide.

There are a ton of Argentines in the stadium, most attempting to start the popular songs and chants. It’s unfortunate that there are so many vuvuzelas that drown out any such attempt at a normal soccer chant. Still, at one point, the Argentines fight through and can be heard. The loud ones are mostly downstairs.

Halfway through the first half, one of our crew texts us to let us know there are plenty of seats around him. We join them at halftime, in the corner of the lower level, in the middle of a large group of Argentines.

There are many “No Smoking” signs in the stadium, but apparently that means nothing in this section. These Argentines don’t sit, and exact seat locations are also a meaningless thing – this makes it easy for us to jump in. We notice the Boca Jr. flag - hard not to notice since it's about 20 feet long.

Before I made it down there, some of the rowdier fans approached my buddies and asked them to pay some money. Really. After denying the 'request,' the Argentines in front of my friends turned and said, "You're lucky this is the World Cup, because if you say no to those hooligans in Argentina, there would be trouble." Incredible!

The second half is underway, and soon it starts...

“Vamos, vamos, Argentina. Vamos, Vamos, a ganar.” I’m jumping around pumping hands in the air, as are the other three.

“Se mueva para aca, se mueve para alla.” (And we move over here, and we move over there)…And we hop a few places to the right, then back to the left.

“Es un sentimiento, no puedo parar!” (It’s a feeling, I cannot contain)…singing non-stop as we waive anything in a circular motion high up.

As I jump around and watch the game, I have flashbacks to 1994, when my parents took brothers, sister, and me to Boston for the three Argentina World Cup games. The irony to look to my side and have three American buddies standing in their places, enjoying their first Argentina game as we I did back then.

The Argentina game

Africa Unite!

We wake up on Sunday morning and had already made plans to attend the Ghana versus Serbia game, which was being played at Loftus Versveld Stadium, about a 10 minute walk from where we are staying.

The World Cup stadium have a lot of security around them. The streets are blocked in a big perimeter, so even walking around a stadium can be a long journey, as we found out.

It's a walk worth taken, we thought, because as you walk around you see the colors of the teams and fans excited to show their support.

We walk in and see that we are smack in the middle of what in our eyes is an awesome section of Ghana fans. We're talking drums, huge hats, bright colors, costumes, dancing, swaying - non-stop. At halftime, about 3-4 rows walk down the the field level, where a barrier separates a walkway from the field. This is great, because they allow the fans to march around the field. It's hard to explain how cool it looked, and sounded.

We ask and are accepted to jump in and celebrate with them. Ghana scored on a penalty kick late in the game, and we're in the middle of a massive party.

The South African's we meet are also behind Ghana. It's about uniting Africa, we are told.

Africa Unite!

Rustenburg - Royal Bafokeng Stadium

On Friday, upon landing, we found out at an airport info booth that there were buses scheduled to take fans from Petroria to Rustenburg for the USA vs England game. A nice lady at the info booth had requested we call her cell phone to set it up once we were ready.

We called her on Saturday morning. She takes our names, and tells us to be at the Petroria City Hall for the 3 pm bus, and that a man named Andrew would have our tickets for the bus.

We show up and there is a trailer parked at the Hall that says something along the lines of World Cup Transport. Inside, on a card table, a person hand writes our receipts that indicate we've paid for the bus tickets. Change is given from a person's pocket, not a register. It's all very interesting to me - no computers or high tech anything, but functional.

We are also told that the bus would not leaving at 3, but rather at 3:40. Shortly after boarding with maybe 20 other people, we're told that we'll be waiting until 4:30 to depart, but are reassured that the driver "he will fly," and we'll get to the stadium by 6:30, two hours before kickoff.

A little over an hour into the drive, we realize that the traffic on the one-lane highway will make it impossible for us to arrive by 6:30. We also see our first sunset. Pretty incredible.

Cars were not only passing us on the right, but also from the shoulder. Enough on the drive. We pull up to the stadium about 40 minutes before kickoff, write down the license plates, and begin a fast walk to gates.

We pass one security stop point, then a place where they tear the bottom of your ticket, and finally through a metal detector and ticket scan. Now inside the stadium, we each go to our respective gates since we have seats in different spots: three together, two together, and two on our own, including me.

I'm down low, three rows from the track, in a corner behind the U.S. goal, and, with English fans in front, to my right, and behind me. It was a bit lonely to be a U.S. fan in this seat, especially when I could see the larger contingency of USA fans off to my right and a few rows behind.

I heard some interesting chants when England scored first. And when Dempsey evened it up, I turned to realize those immediately around me were not in the mood to high five.

At halftime I walked across five sections worth of rows, and made it to the upper deck, where I find three of our crew. Another guy, also sitting on his own and in a similar situation, spots me and also joins us. We explain to the other US supporters were we were sitting, and they tell us to stay in this section. They'll make room.

When the game ends, the New York / New Jersey crew that brings that huge U.S. flag takes it out and I'm underneath it. When we take it down, we realize that almost all the English fans have left the stadium, and realize how many American fans were there. To our right, left, below, way up in the upper deck. All singing and chanting. The U.S. players walked to each section and clapped high in appreciation.

We begin to walk out and in the concourse, a large group of U.S. fans had gathered to continue their chants. Pictures are being taken from all sides. The party continues outside, as everyone begins to walk to their cars.

We see and greet MLS Commissioner Don Garber and U.S.A Bid Committee Executive Director David Downs. They know Denver was represented!

Rustenburg - Royal Bafokeng Stadium

South Africa, first view...

I've made it to South Africa. It was a long flight, about 3.5 hours from Denver to New York, and then 14.5 hours from New York to Johannesburg.

When you arrive in South Africa, you immediately notice all the signs and ads that make sure you know this is the home of the World Cup. As you walk past customs, you are greeted by the obnoxiously loud sound of the famed vuvuzelas - the plastic trumpet horns that in many ways are a symbol of South Africa. No pictures can describe what it's like to hear this droning and monotonous sound.

I think every country's fans is represented at the airport, with Mexico and Brazil fans being the two that most stood out. (Algeria fans in photo).

We wait a few hours and meet two friends that flew in on two other flights, rent our car and drive to our lodge in nearby Petroria, where we meet up with the other three guys that made it here the day before. The lodge is new and appears to be in a really nice neighborhood, and then you notice that all the houses and lodges have electric wire fences above the walls in their front yards. We are a few blocks from the Iraq Embassy, among others.

The FIFA ticket center is in a mall, where we go to claim our tickets. After an hour wait, much patience is required as one of the guys is told his tickets can't be claimed. It appears they had some glitch - so a short while later and after a bit of nervousness it's all figured out.

There is at least one person selling South Africa flags at every corner, it seems. You see the flag or at least the colors on just about every car driving around. South Africa was about to kick off the tournament against Mexico at 4:30 pm local time, and the streets were buzzing with activity. Everyone was walking around with the yellow jersey on.

We all decide not to battle the crowds at the Fan Fests, so we settle in the TV room at our place. Although Mexico is our neighbor and part of CONCACAF, we decide we would like South Africa to win because we know how cool it is when the host country is winning. When South Africa scored first we could only imagine what it must have been like at a big gathering place. We walk outside to see if we could hear anything, and of course, we could hear the sound of the vuvuzelas. It was like a swarm of bees was hovering.

When the game ends, it's dark outside, yet only 6:30 pm. We now want to watch the second game with others, and wondered where buzzing sound was actually coming from. We find out there was a fan fest not too far from where we are staying. However, when we ask how to get there - walking - we are told it's not a good idea: not safe, was the reason.

I ask more questions, because there has not been one person that has not warned us about safety. It just couldn't be that bad, I thought - but when the locals tell you not to go walking around, it sinks in a bit better. The lady at the front desk further explained, in a soft and matter of fact voice, that it's not that they carry guns, but rather they approach you with knives.

She then says that if there are more than three of us going, we should be ok so long as you walk straight to a main road. She tells us that if we go, to only carry a small amount of cash, no cards and definitely not our passports or anything of value. The seven of us nervously begin our walk, following the directions she had given us.

Not too far into the walk we are at ease. It's not that bad. We made it to a small fan-fest like square that had a decently large outdoor screen to watch the Uruguay vs. France match. It was packed with people, mostly South Africans, but also fans of many other countries. We find a spot on a terrace of one of the bars that overlooks the crowd and is directly across from the screen. This is where we perched ourselves for the next few hours.

So here were are on Saturday morning, day two. In a few hours we'll be taking a two-hour bus from Petroria to Rustenburg for tonight's USA v England game. Soccer fans in the U.S. have waited a long time for this day - I hope everyone finds a way to enjoy the game, which if you're not here you will likely do so without the sound of the vuvuzelas.

South Africa, first view...

A Coloradoan in England

One of the guys that I'll be traveling to South Africa, Brett, is originally from Grand Junction, Colorado, and even spent time working with the Rapids back in the day. Though he now lives in England, he still follows his hometown Rapids and the U.S. National Team.

I asked Brett if he could describe for other Rapids fans what it's like to be a Colorado / USA soccer fan living in England. Below is his story:

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I, like some of you, am preparing to head off to watch the greatest sporting spectacle on Earth…the World Cup.

The excitement is building, and I am counting the days until I can board that big jet plane that will take me to the Dark Continent. While I have been to the last 4 World Cup Finals, coached and played the beautiful game since I was a child, and worked in many capacities in the professional game, I am just like most of you.

This might lead you to wonder why I was asked to write this article, or why you are bothering to read it. Good questions, I must admit. I am a proud member of Sam’s Army, but I will be travelling to South Africa as a force of one surrounded by the enemy. I live in Northern England, the home of soccer and coincidentally our first opponent this Saturday.

I was recently asked how the buildup to the World Cup in England compared to that of the United States. The short answer is: it doesn’t. In fact, it doesn’t compare to anything in the US at all. Every aspect of daily life here now revolves around this amazing quadrennial tournament. To demonstrate this I would like to recount a couple of days last week that truly put things in perspective.

I was walking into to town with my wife and son, and everywhere I looked St. George’s cross was flying high…and I do mean high. The pub where I ended up watching the Mexico v England game has a 30 foot flag adorning the building.

This wasn’t a gradual transition mind you. It was as if there was a traditional English calendar that stated, “Exactly three weeks before the start of the World Cup Finals, all good Englishmen must present their colors”.

It’s as if the entire country began singing along with The Clash to “This is England”. We popped into the Mark’s & Spencer’s, a local grocery store, and they had converted an entire 100’ aisle into an English Supporters Section.

I asked a store clerk, “Um, excuse me. Where did the bread go?”

“Down on aisle 12, I think,” he said. “But we have a lot of England kit here!”

After assuring him that I didn’t really need any new kit, we picked up the groceries and continued down the main shopping street to find a place to have some lunch. Every store we passed had obviously used the same decorator, as that damn red cross was everywhere.

Within three blocks I realized that the entire town had been transformed. The health food store, the cell phone stores, the travel agents, the book stores, the florists, the charity shops…yes, the charity shops all had their windows painted in dragon hating pride. Each of them offering some incentive to cheer the boys to victory.

I probably could have lived the rest of my life without seeing a sign that urged me to “Help beat colon cancer in the spirit of Bobby Moore and England” (Sir Bobby was the captain of the Cup winning English side of 1966 and died of colon cancer). With the health of my colon imbedded in my mind, we continued on our way.

After getting nearly run over by a Peugeot with twin England flags proudly displayed, I was really starting to dislike the damn things. Truth be told, though, I was secretly begrudging of the national pride the country as a whole displayed for the sport I had loved since I was a child.

Returning home, my son wanted to watch some television. I acquiesced, and while scanning the menu was bombarded with a dizzying array of programs: The 20 Greatest Players in World Cup History, The 20 Most Embarrassing Moments of the World Cup. The 30 Greatest Goals in the World Cup…the list went on and on.

Which one to watch?

Of course my son, who was thinking more along the lines of Ben 10, was not amused. The Cartoon Network won out, but not before seeing a commercial that seemed to cement the day’s experiences. It was for a national banking chain and they promised to deposit 25 pounds in every current account if England won the World Cup. Every customer, 25 pounds. That is commitment. I went to bed that night wondering if I should move my checking account.

The next evening, I made my way down to the pub to watch the England vs Mexico game. Due to some very odd scheduling, which was the source of three newspaper articles, the match was on a Monday evening.

Thinking it might be a light crowd I showed up about 20 minutes before kick-off. Bad move. The place was packed, and people had obviously been there for hours. I managed to find a place standing at the bar where I had a view of one the big screens just as the game kicked off. While the game was less than exhilarating, the atmosphere in the pub was electric.

Everywhere around me, there were conversations about the team that Fabio Capello, England’s Italian manager, had put out. When England finally scored their first goal, it was met by a roar, but also a fair amount of cynicism.

That is the thing with English fans. They constantly expect their team to win, but just as often criticize it when they don’t do it with style and panache. At half-time I managed to wander over to a tall table where a spot had opened up, and struck up a conversation with the other residents of the precious real estate. I asked one of the guys what he thought of the game,

“Dreadful” he said. “It’s bloody Mexico, for ........ sake. The only thing they are good at is the Wave”

“Mexico are good team,” I said. “They have advanced to the second round in four straight World Cups.”

“They are crap. They qualify in a weak conference,” he replied.

Sensing a general bias here, I asked, “So you think that Mexico, and the US are only in because they qualify from a weak region?”

“Of course it is…..everyone knows the Yanks can’t play football.”

“But a lot of our players play for clubs in Europe, several in the Premier League.”

“Aye, but none of them are stars. You are a bunch of squad players. You have no one who can deal with Rooney, Lampard, and Gerard.”

Things got a little more contentious when I stated “Andorra did. You only beat them 2-0 and they only have 84,000 people.”

He smiled at that, bought me a beer, and we began arguing about how the English can claim that CONCACAF can be called “weak” when they qualified in group that contained Belarus, Andorra, and Kazakhstan. By then the second half had commenced and England started to look like the English team these 300 crazed and none to sober fans had expected from the outset.

Mexico’s performance was beginning to make my argument look very weak, but I continued the good fight. I even threw out the Holy Grail of Belo Horizonte Brazil where the US beat England 1-0 in 1950. Of course, the battle was lost from the beginning, because I am one of the aforementioned Yanks, and Yanks know nothing about football. Everyone knows that. Except us.
After the game, the mood in the pub was raucous, and I had made a few new friends, sort of. I had at least proven that I knew the game, and that when having a conversation with me you couldn’t take me for granted simply because I was a Yank.

I think the metaphor was lost on them.

I did agree to meet them 5 days later, same time, same place to watch the England vs Japan match. As you can imagine that one was a bit more fun to discuss with the natives. (Japan was winning before scoring two own goals to give England the victory).

Brett

A Coloradoan in England

The South Africa Blog - Intro

The 2010 FIFA World Cup begins on Friday, June 11, and for the next few weeks, I’ll be hoping to provide a first-hand account of what it’s like in South Africa during the world’s biggest sporting event.

Allow me take a few lines (minutes) to give you a little background on who I am, and why you may want to check out this blog.

My name is German, I’m the Director of Digital Media for the Colorado Rapids and an avid soccer (and sports in general) fan.

I know I’m lucky to have this opportunity to attend a World Cup, my fifth consecutive. I consider myself fortunate to do what I do, and I don’t take it for granted. I appreciate that my job is to help grow soccer. I appreciate that I’m part of a group of professionals that get to continuously look for ways to engage our fans while also looking for ways to grow the base.

If you’re reading this, there’s a good chance you’re a Rapids / soccer fan. If not, maybe you’re caught up in the buzz that’s been created as World Cup nears.

I’m hoping that the combination of being a Rapids fan and my experiences traveling the world will allow me to give those of you that are not going to South Africa a picture of what the country and tournament is like through my eyes.

I will be joining six friends and friends of friends in Petroria, South Africa. We have plans to attend all the U.S. group stage games and other games in between.

So, in between watching and searching for online details about the event, come back if you want a different read. Leave comments, ask questions, share with others if you’d like.

The Rapids will be hosting viewing parties for all the matches at a bunch of area bars and restaurants. We hope to see many of you at one of these locations throughout the month.

And if you don’t come back to the blog or can’t meet others at one of the viewing locations, we hope that in one way or another you enjoy the tournament that has the power to unite the world.

The South Africa Blog - Intro