The Onion, the satirical news site that actually has its finger on the American pulse more often than not, got it right again last week with its story headlined ”Nation wakes up from strange dream where they were watching soccer.”
”I wasn’t just willingly viewing it, I actually cared who won, and I was tuning in right here in the United States instead of watching it in Europe or someplace like that,” said (fictitious) 27-year-old Philadelphia resident Erika Sloan, who I feel sure is a composite figure whose views mirror those of many of us.
Except that I spent these last three World Cup weeks in Europe, or someplace like that: France, for two weeks of shouting ”Allez les bleus!” when it seemed its national team was a sure thing to go all the way, until it didn’t, and then a week in Scotland, whose citizens were just happy their team had made it to the big show at all.
Scotland had already been eliminated by the time I got to Edinburgh. But that by no means eliminated enthusiasm for watching the remaining games of the Cup in the pubs in which I hung out after dinner in the rough-and-tumble Newington neighborhood of the capital’s Southside.
Weeks later, ale and whisky drinkers were still happy to regale a Yank with tales of how the legendary Tartan Army, as followers of the Scottish national team are known, drank up all the beer in Boston on game days there. At the Samuel Adams Taproom, the Scots drank four times as much Boston Lager as the bar typically sells during a four-day holiday weekend like the Fourth of July, according to ESPN. Hennessy’s Bar said that their sales tripled those of a typical St. Patrick’s Day. In Boston, mind you. And over and over I heard that The White Bull Tavern ran dry of almost everything except Bud Light, which even a thirsty Scotsman won’t down.
Point being, the World Cup is the biggest shindig in sports to literally the entire rest of the world. Here, it was a big deal because it was held in North America. Yes, hardcore American fans, and there are some, have watched the every-four-years FIFA championships with enthusiasm when they were held in Qatar and whatnot. But many American sports fans are like me: Our soccer fandom peaked when our daughters finally quit AYSO, also known as All Your Saturdays Occupied.
And perhaps it helped that in Scotland, the only thing better than their team winning is England losing. I was hoisting a wee dram in the crowded dive bar Drouthy Neebors — ”Just four quid for a double, love!” — as Argentina beat The Three Lions 2-1. Zero tears were shed at the end of extra time.
My biggest fandom by far had been for the great U.S. women’s team. And I definitely didn’t realize that the World Cup by its nature is political to the core. With all that encompasses in this world. Racism, for instance. As when former Spanish Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy wrote in an op-ed prior to the semi-final match between Spain and France that while the French squad is top-tier, they “don’t have any French players.” Whereas in fact, it has all French players. Many of whom just happen to be Black.
But the largest political moment for Europeans was their outrage at our current president lobbying FIFA’s president to lift a one-match suspension after U.S. striker Folarin Balogun was hit with a red card. It wasn’t that they thought the penalty was a good call; everyone knows it was a bad call. But to them, a red card is a red card. Daddy doesn’t get to fix it. But he did.
Best thing about the tournament? Now everyone knows Cape Verde, an island nation of 530,000, and how little countries can do big things.
Larry Wilson is on the Southern California News Group editorial board. lwilson@scng.com