Football is not a game, games are for toddlers. Football is for the spirited, the passionate and the courageous. Little boys have to leave at the group stage in order for real men to start playing. Football is not for sissies! This frenzy has taken me to random spots and gatherings to catch games and celebrate with hardcore fans. I take cultural immersion very seriously. See, what I have learned is that if you don’t watch football, you haven’t lived yet.
World cup comes around once in 4 years and when it does, I have to write about it. What else am I suppose to do? Where do I start? There are a few names you need to know to sound hip around us. Don’t crucify me, I am just a messenger. Don’t throw names like Messi, Beckham, Ronaldo and sit back… there is more where those came from. If we are talking old school you may mention Pele, Maradona, Ronaldo No.9 and Roberto Carlos. In the recently retired generation there is Ronaldinho, Jay Jay Okocha, Rivaldo, Zinedin Zidane, Gerd Muller and Kaka. In our time CR 7 is kind of a big deal, so is Messi, Van Persie, Drogba, Yaya Toure, Rooney, Iniesta, Ramos, Torres, Fabregas, Suarez, Robben and Eto’o. Most of these guys are known on 1st name basis, that is how big deal they are.
So before I get all sucked into the players, let’s discuss where they come from. The clubs where they get coached; where the skill is mastered, their art primed, pruned and perfected before they show up on our lovely screens at the world cup.
Spain vs Italy game
Those who have made it in this business have trained at stadiums like Old Trafford, Stamford Bridge, Santiago Bernabéu and Camp Nou with Man U, Chelsea, Real, Barcelona etc. The full names are actually Manchester United, Real Madrid, FC Barcelona, Bayern Munich, Chelsea FC, Liverpool FC but who needs a mouth full when you can say cool nicknames like the Red Devils, Los Blancos (The Whites)/Los Vikingos(The Vikings)/Los Merengues (The Meringues)/ Los Galacticos(The Galactics), Barça, Der FCB (The FCB)/ FC Hollywood/Die Bayern (The Bavarians)/ Die Roten (The Reds), The Blues/Pensioners, The Reds fancy huh? It gets interesting. Origins of these names are even more fascinating. Bayern Munich fans claim it earned its FC Hollywood name from the legendary world-class players always present in its line-up. The truth is far from this. The mid 90s were some of their worst years and to add salt to injury, the players prominently featured in tabloids and gossip columns at times even badmouthing teammates and the club. There was a public rivalry between the then stars Jurgen Klinsmann and Lothar Matthaus who greatly despised each other. Despite all this, they still enjoyed German media’s coverage and so opposition fans coined the term and it has stuck to date. Fun-fact, Jurgen Klinsmann is the current coach for TeamUSA.
I was rooting primarily for the Black Stars of Ghana. I also threw my support behind Les Éléphants of Côte d’Ivoire, Team USA, Colombia, La Roja of Spain, Super Eagles of Nigeria and of course the Samba Boys of Brazil just for Marcelo though.
This world cup was hot fire, really really entertaining. I vividly remember Colombia’s James Rodriguez handling the ball and Kenya’s Origi charging for the Belgians. That boy is only 19 and was scoring goals at the world cup making me look at my life and think hard. Really hard. Netherlands’ Robben had me at the edge of my seat the whole time. At the semi-finals his wife and little kid were on the front row and he went to cry with them after their loss to Argentina; they looked really cute.
Celebrating with Real Madrid fans at Plaza de Cibeles
Apparently Team USA shipped some Germans to join its squad. Ok-they have dual citizenship; nonetheless, they made up 45% of the line up. After seeing the well oiled and structured German machine butcher the Brazilians on home soil, we now know why. Team USA had so much spirit and I was in such a moral and personal dilemma when they played against my boys from Ghana. The sacrifices I made to watch that game! I was to travel back to the USA the following morning so I stored my luggage at Schipol and hopped on a train to Amsterdam. From the central train station I dashed into the nearest bar I could find. To cut the long story short, I was that cluless girl at some bar full of tourists watching the game. Wait for it…. in the red-light district! That was quite a discovery especially since I only noticed after the game. Interestingly, the place was full of college students which was very surprising.
Seriously though, am I the only one who got a little confused by team France and England? As politically incorrect as it sounds, I had been cheering for 15 minutes before I realized they were not African teams. Then it stuck me that I could actually start a #bringbackourboys campaign and see what happens.
I was hoping Team USA would advance further in the challenge so that they can at least call it football like the rest of us and call that other game which I will not mention soccer- wishful thinking on my part.
If all this has been a rumble, think of football as the game in which grown men run in circles chasing after a piece of leather for the world to watch. It does get interesting huh?
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