Sunday, June 16, 2013

Clint Dempsey is on my list

Few things in life make me happier than U.S. soccer. There's something so electrifying about being in a stadium full of thousands of fans wearing red, white and blue and chanting in unison. (It only takes a couple of people -- or one very loud person -- to get a chant going.) We all sang the National Anthem. It was beautiful.

I wish the soccer had been. It wasn't the best game I've ever seen. The reffing -- how do I say this? -- kept things interesting. I try not to yell at the refs because a) I'm not down there, b) it's really disrespectful, and c) I really hate it when people tell me I'm doing my job wrong, so I really shouldn't return the favor. Oh, and also because two months ago a community soccer referee died when a player got frustrated and punched him in the head. But wow, the calls.

Anyway, we made it through the first half with a few close calls on the field. We got into the second half and got treated to a real show -- a guy two seats down who was a wee bit toasted (he brought a hookah pipe into the stadium) got into a swearing match with a sloshed Honduran two rows up. At one point more people around were watching these two guys yell at each other than were watching the game.

And then we scored. And I banged my knee on the seat in front of me jumping up and down and screamed until I couldn't talk anymore. And life was good.

Pre-game. You can't tell, but a couple of those flags down there are the flag of the original 13 colonies and the "Don't Tread on Me" flag.
 
Marissa, me and Sam. Fortunately for this picture, I have very long arms and can fit all three of us in a groupie.

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