20 years later, I still remember the warm beer
what I actually love about the world cup
so the world cup is happening right now... and I've got a confession.
I don't follow it. like, AT ALL. couldn't tell you who has to beat who to who, or name any of the players.
never been my thing.
so do I pay attention? do I actually watch it? ... I guess not.
but I LOVE it. couldn't name you a single player, and I can't stop watching.
and last night, I figured out why.
so I'm on a ship in the western caribbean this week, and they've got the games up on this giant screen on the pool deck. so naturally I wander up, drink in hand, zero clue who's playing.
caught the end of mexico beating south korea. 1-0. so the excitement was... limited.
but something happened up on that deck I wasn't expecting.
it threw me twenty years back. just like that.
never the game, really. it's the CROWD.
it's what a few thousand people do together when a ball is about to cross a line. that's the thing that reached up and grabbed me, standing on a pool deck in the middle of the ocean.
it pulled up one of the best nights of my life.
(a night I wasn't even at the game for. stay with me.)
the 2002 world cup trip I still think about
picture it. 2002. me and my buddy henrik, one of my closest friends to this day, going all the way back to when he was a foreign exchange student in high school.
we drove from norway, down through sweden, into denmark. and somewhere on that drive I did something deeply, profoundly pointless...
I stood with one foot in norway and one foot in sweden. at the same time.
groundbreaking stuff, I know. (I've got a picture somewhere. you'll just have to trust me.)
but the borders weren't the point. we were headed to a festival. and I had no clue it was about to hand me a story I'd still be telling two decades later.
it's called roskilde. biggest outdoor music festival in europe, far as I know. tens of thousands of people. unbelievable concerts.
and the thing that stuck with me? wasn't a single song.
it was the soccer. (of course it was.)
the whole drive down, we kept ducking into pubs to catch games. and these guys, all these europeans crammed into tiny little rooms, were SO into it I couldn't look away.
I didn't know the teams. I barely knew the rules.
didn't matter. by the end of that trip I'd somehow become a die-hard italy fan. francesco totti. fully, embarrassingly obsessed. for a guy who three days earlier couldn't have named ONE player.
then we got to the festival. and the obsession got a stage.
the night a screen beat a stadium
so picture thousands of people. camping out. drinking warm beer (which... was a new one for me, and not in a good way).
now add this. the world cup is running at the same time, so they've got the games up on these giant screens all over the grounds. I remember the one by the orange stage.
mostly because I love orange. (that's the whole reason. I'm a simple man.)
and then they kicked off. and I still can't fully explain what happened next.
thousands of people, spread across these huge fields. flags from every country. singing, chanting, feeding off each other.
you'd feel something start to build. low at first... then a little more... then one player makes a run, a couple passes link up, somebody takes a shot...
and the entire place EXPLODES.
now here's where I should've been completely unimpressed.
I've been a minnesota vikings season ticket holder for years. I know a loud stadium. my seats are close enough that I can feel the sound coming down from behind me.
a roaring crowd? not new to me.
except this beat all of it. and that's the part that never quite made sense...
we weren't even IN the stadium. the game was being played somewhere else entirely. we were sitting in a field. in denmark. staring at a screen.
and somehow it felt like we were standing right there on the pitch.
the crowd did that. not the match.
the energy in a room is the thing people carry out the door
so here's a test. ask me who won any of those games.
go ahead. I've got NOTHING. couldn't give you a single final score if my life depended on it.
but ask me what it FELT like? and I'm right back there. every time. twenty-some years later. the sound. the energy.
still sitting right there like it was last week.
oh, and one more thing I can't fully defend...
I bought the totti jersey. skin tight. very much NOT me. still hanging in my closet to this day.
bought it before I even understood who the guy was. which is, I'm pretty sure, the most american soccer fan thing a human being can admit to.
but the jersey isn't really why I kept it.
it's this. the thing that stuck with me for twenty years wasn't the game. wasn't even italy.
it was the ROOM. a few thousand people all locked onto the same thing at the same time... and whatever came off of that.
and that's the part nobody can schedule. the score gets forgotten. the sound stays.
which is exactly what I think about with the rooms I'm in now. you can't always control the game.
but the energy a group puts into the same thing at the same time? THAT'S what they carry out the door. that's what they still feel on the drive home.
a week later. apparently twenty years later, if you're me.
so this year's tournament is the biggest one ever. 48 countries, spread across the u.s., canada, and mexico... which is right where I'm floating past this week.
and you can bet I'll be back up on that pool deck.
not for the scores. (you already know I won't remember those.)
for the rest of it.
