S p o r t s Welcome To The Game

By Charles Huntley Hello thrill seekers! Welcome to the leisure class, old money and new! All are welcome here. I’m here to answer the question "What in the world is a person supposed to do in this day and age for entertainment?" You’ve run with the bulls in Pamplona…..bo-ring, you’ve trekked to the North Pole….yawn, you’ve done Everest…..who HASN’T done Everest? Well I’m going to tip you to the next big thing. My friends and I are already in, and this is sure to be HUGE in the not-so-distant future: we have been attending World Cup Soccer matches outside the United States! Yes, my friends, this has been the most consistently thrilling experience I’ve had in a long, long time. And the best part is, it’s repeatable in different countries with a different set of thrills each time. My first trip was to Mexico City, Mexico. My heart was pounding as we left the relative safety of the hotel and arrived at the stadium, where we were outnumbered (literally) 1000 to 1. We circled the wagons (figuratively) and headed for our seats behind the American goal. The boos and jeers were deafening. We held together and roared back. We sang American songs ("The Star Spangled Banner," Lee Greenwood’s "I’m Proud to Be An American," and "YMCA"). We had our flags and our red, white, and blue top hats and suspenders, and pride surged through us. The game, for the most part, was boring. Deep into the 3rd period, Mexico scored, and the crowd seemed to swell like a torrential river overrunning its banks. A rain of D-sized batteries hailed down upon us, and we were peppered with cups and plastic grocery bags filled with urine. We hid under a giant cardboard cut out of the Planters Peanut Man dressed as Uncle Sam, and though we cowered as the urine bags fell, I’ve never felt more alive in my life. We were eventually ringed by security and led through the mob to our buses, where we received a police escort back to the hotel. In France, we stayed at the same hotel as the U.S. Team. The hotel staff was full of soccer fans and sympathizers. Someone was marching the halls banging garbage can lids together. They must’ve been working in shifts, they went all night long. Nobody slept. Numerous calls were placed to security, with no signs of action taken. This night was especially thrilling, because we were split up. We were alone in our rooms, afraid to call one another for fear of curious ears tapping the line, and afraid to venture out into the hall for fear of being taunted or possibly smashed with garbage can lids. At one point, delirious from lack of sleep, I mustered enough courage to shout a Lee Greenwood chorus through the locked door. The noise patrol was clearly infuriated – they concentrated on my door, bashing away for a good 20 minutes directly outside. I lay motionless, hardly breathing, never making another sound until they went off down the hall. Around noon the next day, I ordered room service, but refused to open the door when it arrived, for fear of poison in the food or a rush from the hallway guys playing possum (it had been quiet for some time). The tension was thick at the hotel, it dripped from the walls. I couldn’t bring myself to leave my room for the game itself. I escaped out a window and headed for a standby flight at the airport in the 2nd period. [Paragraph deleted. Please note: there will be no further discussion of nor travel to the nation of Turkey or any of it’s border nations until issue # 1698456979-US7 is resolved and all/any resulting prison sentences have been served in full and all/any probationary periods have terminated.] So, you’ve read this far, you’re definitely more than a little interested. I can tell. Well, I’ll tell you, I can’t get enough of this stuff, so I’ve decided to move from student to teacher. I will be guiding groups of similarly-minded fans on trips around the world. We can start with the training trip to Canada. Perhaps we’ll return the favor to some visiting fans for some home games. A high-level trip to London is planned for the fall, but you’ll need a pretty impressive resume to qualify for that one. World Cup Soccer is often the one thing that other nations had over the U.S., the one card they held. We’re getting into the game now, and they are pissed, which is just more fuel for my fire. Let me know if you want to come with me.