World Cup Wonder

There are no words. I have no way to convey the absolute transformation that my current 'home' country has undergone in preparation for Friday's big kickoff of the World Cup. Houses and apartment buildings have flags hanging from bedroom windows, cars have stickers covering windows and mini flags flying like they're in a funeral procession, pubs and restaurants have life-size posters and signs hung up depicting England's finest - the boys in white, most male bodies sport the white and red shirt, and vendors on the street have traded their Union Jack apparel for England's football colors. It's an insanely all-consuming spectacle that I've never experienced before. I'm scared to see what happens when the Olympics come to London in 2012.

Last night, of course, was the big night. In a crowded pub of over three hundred people, I was the lone American warrior. I kept my status on the down-low - didn't want to drawn any attention to myself, push someone over the edge, and become a sacrificial lamb or something. I really wasn't prepared to know what to expect - I mean, I've been watching football all season, cheering and yelling along with my mates as Manchester United tried for the championship, so I thought I had it figured out. But I just didn't see it coming. The masses of fans who had been drinking since noon (for a 7:30pm game), faces painted, screaming and cursing and cheering at the television like we were in a stadium rather than a pub. I think the singular shift was that everyone was for the same team. It was 300 people moving to the same beat, one full bar wanting the same outcome, feeling the same passion, and saying the same things. This wasn't Manchester United versus Chelsea - this was England versus the United States.

I'm certain that England will be on a continuous binge of celebration for the next month. And I'm so thrilled I got to see what it's all about.

I'm actually headed back to a pub tonight, this time to The Bedford (last night was The Grove), to watch the Australian game with my two Australian friends. Some of my Balham gang will be there too - when it's the World Cup - apparently it doesn't really matter too much who's playing, just the fact that someone's playing is good enough for an evening of pints and cheering.

The next England game is Friday...I've got exactly 5 days to learn the Queen's Anthem. As I looked around the crowded bar at the start of last night's game, not a single person shied away from singing on top of their lungs. I was jostled around, rocked back and forth by merriment, and two people even tried to sing slower and louder so I could catch on. Oh my. When it was all over, I got the pat on my back, the condescending look, and the "you'll get it next time." You're right. I will get it next time ;)

Cheers!