Everywhere Other Than Here, It's Football
It's early on a Thursday morning. To my far right I can see a friend's deck, dock, and Lake LBJ beyond. To my slight right, I can see my phone propped up on a wine bottle and a World Cup match between Denmark and Australia. The volume is down because I don't want to wake the three other women who are still sleeping. I figured I'd put in a little work before the day gets rolling and let the soccer game run in the background, I'm uncharacteristically a lot of things right now. For one, I'm on a girls' midweek weekend break with members of my tennis team, i.e. I've stepped away from my routine and I'm being social. For two, I'm watching soccer, i.e a sport that traditionally competes with curling as my least favorite. For three (perhaps related to #1), I skipped my workout this morning in favor of coffee, work, and soccer.
I can easily rationalize my odd behavior on two of the three points above. Arguably, the day is still young and if it's not too blazing hot I can get in a run later or hop on my Spin bike when I get home. I refuse to call it an "off day"... yet. And I promised myself a few months back that I'd try to step out of my introversion on occasion and foster better connections with the people in my life. Given that these gals seem to accept me as one of their own - as one pointed out yesterday, we are all different in some way - I have no choice but to love them back...and come on lake trips that they host.
The soccer, though, I have disliked since childhood. I suppose I'm hopelessly American in that regard, but unlike some Americans who have little or no exposure to the game, I grew up around it. My sister played and, not being old enough to stay home alone, I was dragged along weekend after weekend to games and tournaments. If that wasn't enough, we had season tickets to the Sockers, San Diego's professional outdoor AND indoor soccer team. Since small screens hadn't been invented yet, I staved off boredom by reading (and oolging my first crush, one of my sister's teammates). Then my sister injured her knee and soccer mercifully disappeared from my life.
Until this year's World Cup. Why is this year different, you ask? I mean in the thirty-five years since my sister had to quit soccer there have been nine world cups. Nine. Until I googled, I couldn't have told you who won or lost, or even what countries were still decent. I might have recognized a name or two from the top eschelon of players, but I couldn't have picked a one out of lineup. And I didn't give a rat's butt one way or the other. Then I bumped into an article Umgas Magazine posted on their FaceBook page about Sweden's chances in the Cup. For whatever reason, it got me thinking and I realized something very important about my future -
(1) I want to live somewhere other than the U.S.
and
(2) Everywhere somewhere other than the U.S. loves soccer with an insanity that probably ought to be medicated.
My ah-ha moment? If I want to fit in at least a little once I reach my goal, if I want to one day seem like I'm something other than an American, I need to learn to tolerate soccer...er, I mean football. I might even have to start liking it.
I figure the World Cup is as good a time as any to dig in. There are plenty of games, lots of news coverage, and more people talking soccer than normal. I'd like to gain an appreciation for the game, if that's even possible, by learning more about the players, teams, strategies, and rules. I am somewhat disappointed to learn that the basics haven't changed much in forty years. Kick ball. Chase ball. Block gonads. Cry like titty-baby and writhe on the ground to get Yellow Card. Watch grass grow between goals. Oy.
Maybe I need a team to root for? Sweden has my soul so of course I'll cheer for them until they are ousted. Which I've been assured will be at the end of the "Group Stage" (or whatever this round-robin phase is called) because we (see how I did that?) are in the same group as Germany and Mexico (who I guess are pretty good?). Thus far, I've been picking the teams from the countries I've visited or plan to visit. Like, I've been to Mexico so I rooted for them to beat Germany; I'll be in Iceland in October so I had them over Argentina (Sorry, Analia and Carlos). Denmark vs. Australia was a tough one - I've been to both countries - but I found myself pulling for Denmark (a more recent history perhaps?). Iceland vs.Croatia promises more of the same - I haven't been to either yet, but I will go to both in the next nine months. So far, so fun. At least when I watch games I have a reason to determine which jersey belongs to which team.
As the tournament progresses, though, I'm going to need a bandwagon to hop on and chances are I'm going to need a different strategy. I've asked several of my soccer fan friends who the favorite is (so I can pick someone else), but apparently the World Cup doesn't have its version of the Yankees or Patriots. I do have a substantial list of "dark horses", like England, Brazil, and, if they can emerge from this group thing, Argentina. Supposedly Germany, Spain, France, Portugal and Mexico are long shots.
Let's be honest, a mere goal separates winners from losers. One. Goal. One. That's it. Everything else is just a bunch of guys tripping over each other's feet and crying about it. Who's better than whom? Your guess is as good as mine. Sure, it's parity but it's also boring to those off us that don't get the small nuances.
I thought I'd like that games are only ninety minutes with a running clock. Until they started tacking on minutes at the end. The first game I watched I counted down - three minutes, two, one, then the seconds. Game over!!!!!!!! Winner, winner, chicken -- what? The game isn't over?!?!?! Sweet Jesus. Extra time?!? Plus how many minutes? For WHY???? Ok, I googled it so I know why per the rule book, but why? No one scores. Hell, if they collectively only score ONE TIME in NINETY minutes, what are the chances someone's going to even come close given five more minutes? You could add ninety extra minutes and 9 times out of 10 NOTHING would happen. No goals. None.
F*** me. We have three more week of this to go? The tennis Grand Slam tournaments are two weeks long and that is more than plenty. And I love tennis. Love it. I think there's something I'm missing with soccer...football. Maybe I need to watch a game with one of my rabid friends so his or her enthusiasm can rub off on me. I guess it doesn't have to happen during the World Cup; afterall I'm not relocating anytime soon. And truthfylly soccer might be an acquired taste, like coffee and vodka - you gotta try it a bunch of times and a bunch of different ways before you come around. If I can find just one thing I kinda sorta like, I'll be all set.
Because I love sport, need sport, and can't not have sport... Because I truly intend to sell my heart to the highest bidder and move away from the U.S... And because wherever I go, there will be soccer... I need to figure out a way to appreciate and like the game. If not, I'll be in for a long life of eye rolling, flipping of news channels, and abject boredom. And that simply will not do.
I'm open to suggestions. When I was twelve an innocent lesbian crush made all the difference. I wonder if that would work at forty-nine... Like I said, suggestions?
I can easily rationalize my odd behavior on two of the three points above. Arguably, the day is still young and if it's not too blazing hot I can get in a run later or hop on my Spin bike when I get home. I refuse to call it an "off day"... yet. And I promised myself a few months back that I'd try to step out of my introversion on occasion and foster better connections with the people in my life. Given that these gals seem to accept me as one of their own - as one pointed out yesterday, we are all different in some way - I have no choice but to love them back...and come on lake trips that they host.
The soccer, though, I have disliked since childhood. I suppose I'm hopelessly American in that regard, but unlike some Americans who have little or no exposure to the game, I grew up around it. My sister played and, not being old enough to stay home alone, I was dragged along weekend after weekend to games and tournaments. If that wasn't enough, we had season tickets to the Sockers, San Diego's professional outdoor AND indoor soccer team. Since small screens hadn't been invented yet, I staved off boredom by reading (and oolging my first crush, one of my sister's teammates). Then my sister injured her knee and soccer mercifully disappeared from my life.
Until this year's World Cup. Why is this year different, you ask? I mean in the thirty-five years since my sister had to quit soccer there have been nine world cups. Nine. Until I googled, I couldn't have told you who won or lost, or even what countries were still decent. I might have recognized a name or two from the top eschelon of players, but I couldn't have picked a one out of lineup. And I didn't give a rat's butt one way or the other. Then I bumped into an article Umgas Magazine posted on their FaceBook page about Sweden's chances in the Cup. For whatever reason, it got me thinking and I realized something very important about my future -
(1) I want to live somewhere other than the U.S.
and
(2) Everywhere somewhere other than the U.S. loves soccer with an insanity that probably ought to be medicated.
My ah-ha moment? If I want to fit in at least a little once I reach my goal, if I want to one day seem like I'm something other than an American, I need to learn to tolerate soccer...er, I mean football. I might even have to start liking it.
I figure the World Cup is as good a time as any to dig in. There are plenty of games, lots of news coverage, and more people talking soccer than normal. I'd like to gain an appreciation for the game, if that's even possible, by learning more about the players, teams, strategies, and rules. I am somewhat disappointed to learn that the basics haven't changed much in forty years. Kick ball. Chase ball. Block gonads. Cry like titty-baby and writhe on the ground to get Yellow Card. Watch grass grow between goals. Oy.
Maybe I need a team to root for? Sweden has my soul so of course I'll cheer for them until they are ousted. Which I've been assured will be at the end of the "Group Stage" (or whatever this round-robin phase is called) because we (see how I did that?) are in the same group as Germany and Mexico (who I guess are pretty good?). Thus far, I've been picking the teams from the countries I've visited or plan to visit. Like, I've been to Mexico so I rooted for them to beat Germany; I'll be in Iceland in October so I had them over Argentina (Sorry, Analia and Carlos). Denmark vs. Australia was a tough one - I've been to both countries - but I found myself pulling for Denmark (a more recent history perhaps?). Iceland vs.Croatia promises more of the same - I haven't been to either yet, but I will go to both in the next nine months. So far, so fun. At least when I watch games I have a reason to determine which jersey belongs to which team.
As the tournament progresses, though, I'm going to need a bandwagon to hop on and chances are I'm going to need a different strategy. I've asked several of my soccer fan friends who the favorite is (so I can pick someone else), but apparently the World Cup doesn't have its version of the Yankees or Patriots. I do have a substantial list of "dark horses", like England, Brazil, and, if they can emerge from this group thing, Argentina. Supposedly Germany, Spain, France, Portugal and Mexico are long shots.
Let's be honest, a mere goal separates winners from losers. One. Goal. One. That's it. Everything else is just a bunch of guys tripping over each other's feet and crying about it. Who's better than whom? Your guess is as good as mine. Sure, it's parity but it's also boring to those off us that don't get the small nuances.
I thought I'd like that games are only ninety minutes with a running clock. Until they started tacking on minutes at the end. The first game I watched I counted down - three minutes, two, one, then the seconds. Game over!!!!!!!! Winner, winner, chicken -- what? The game isn't over?!?!?! Sweet Jesus. Extra time?!? Plus how many minutes? For WHY???? Ok, I googled it so I know why per the rule book, but why? No one scores. Hell, if they collectively only score ONE TIME in NINETY minutes, what are the chances someone's going to even come close given five more minutes? You could add ninety extra minutes and 9 times out of 10 NOTHING would happen. No goals. None.
F*** me. We have three more week of this to go? The tennis Grand Slam tournaments are two weeks long and that is more than plenty. And I love tennis. Love it. I think there's something I'm missing with soccer...football. Maybe I need to watch a game with one of my rabid friends so his or her enthusiasm can rub off on me. I guess it doesn't have to happen during the World Cup; afterall I'm not relocating anytime soon. And truthfylly soccer might be an acquired taste, like coffee and vodka - you gotta try it a bunch of times and a bunch of different ways before you come around. If I can find just one thing I kinda sorta like, I'll be all set.
Because I love sport, need sport, and can't not have sport... Because I truly intend to sell my heart to the highest bidder and move away from the U.S... And because wherever I go, there will be soccer... I need to figure out a way to appreciate and like the game. If not, I'll be in for a long life of eye rolling, flipping of news channels, and abject boredom. And that simply will not do.
I'm open to suggestions. When I was twelve an innocent lesbian crush made all the difference. I wonder if that would work at forty-nine... Like I said, suggestions?
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