Earlier this month, Johann sent me a link to an article in The New York Times called A Clueless Fan’s Guide to the World Cup.
If you think that headline seems insulting, wait until you read the article summary:
“Confused by that other sport called football? Roger Bennett of Men in Blazers answers your pressing questions about this year’s best-looking jerseys, hottest players and trending hairstyles.”
Naturally, I didn’t read it. I have no pressing questions about jerseys or haircuts and I already know who the most attractive player is: Robert Lewandowski, the one and only. Surely you all saw that one coming. I mean, only the most clueless reader of this blog would expect me to miss a chance to rep Poland.
I joke. The real reason why I didn’t want to read a garbage article about football fashion and famous girlfriends is that I was already planning on writing one of my own. I have to keep my clueless observations fresh, you know? What I lack in authority, I make up for in authenticity.
For the past few weeks, Johann and I have been watching at least one World Cup game a day together. Never have our differences been more on display than during those 90 minutes.
I like to root for the underdog, such as Nigeria and Morocco, whereas he mostly favors the powerhouse teams of Europe, like Germany, Spain and France. To me, that’s a real missed opportunity. I don’t know much about football, but I still know that there’s already a tournament just for Europe. It’s called the Euro Cup and two years ago Portugal won against France. How many times do we have to watch those two go at it before we get bored?
Don’t try to feed me a line about rivalries. I doubt the French have the energy to keep one of those going. I’m American, so I should know. Besides, it’s been, like, 90 years. Pardon the pun, but isn’t it time we kick it up a notch? For the sake of entertainment, shouldn’t we all be hoping for an upset by Panama and a final that includes Japan? At the very least, they’ll clean up the stadium after their win.
Actually, I can understand Johann’s allegiance to Europe – but only to a point, that being when he starts cheering for countries that once occupied his own.
“Sweden?” I asked. “You’re going to root for Sweden?”
“They’re a good team,” he replied.
Be that as it may, I’ve listened to him complain about the injustice of having to learn to speak Swedish since the day I met him.
“I cannot believe you want Sweden to win,” I said. “Are you going to root for Russia and Denmark too, just to round it out?”
“I’m not rooting for Sweden to win the whole thing,” he said. “I’d rather Germany win. They won last time and if they win this year, it’ll be the first time a country won two in a row since Brazil in 1962.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s it? Two in a row, even though someone already won two in a row? Excuse me while I open a can of So What?”
“Germany is playing against Mexico today,” he continued. “They should win it easily.”
“I like Mexico,” I replied.
“You live in Germany!” he pointed out. “You have to root for Germany!”
I shrugged. “Out of curiosity, when’s the last time Mexico won the World Cup?”
“Mexico?” he said. “Probably never.”
“Well that seems like a bigger deal to me than back-to-back wins by the most winningest team in the world.”
“That’s actually Brazil,” he corrected.
“Oh!” I said, throwing both hands up. “Well that changes nothing!”
“You’re rooting for Mexico now?” he asked.
“Not exactly,” I said. “But I’d rather they win than Germany. They need it more.”
And then, as if to prove it, two sensors in Mexico City detected “seismic movement” when Mexico scored a goal later that day – which some experts have attributed to celebratory fans jumping up and down in unison. Like I said, for Mexico, a win would be, quite literally, an earth-changing event.
You can tell a lot about country by the way their football players behave on the field.
Iceland is all go, no show – the exact opposite of England. The French are great, although I think they should be even better considering what they have to work with. The Brazilians and Argentineans are loads of fun, but they’re also kind of hysterical, which makes it hard to appreciate their talent. The Germans act like they’ve already won while Nigeria plays like they have nothing to lose. The Poles, on the other hand, just look thankful for the opportunity. And the Russians – well, they have a reputation for being brutes, but I don’t notice any real difference.
Americans, meanwhile, are absent from the world stage and bitter about having lost before things even got started. China’s also a no show, but no one’s asking any questions about why a country of one billion can’t manage to get a team of 11 together. And everyone – I mean everyone – is talking about what the hell is happening with Italy.
Half the time, when I listen to the announcers, I don’t think they’re talking about football at all. I know I’m not.
You can also tell a lot about a country based on how they win – or, in the case of Portugal, how they tie.
Honestly. I have never seen a man more excited to simply not lose than Cristiano Ronaldo after kicking a penalty to bring the score to 3-3 at minute 88 against Spain. It was great kick, don’t get me wrong. Even I could appreciate it, but, my goodness, his reaction afterwards seemed outsized.
“Do they know they didn’t win?” I asked Johann as the players jumped on top of one another at the final whistle.
He nodded.
“Do they know it’s the first day?” I asked as they fell into a pile three men deep.
He nodded again.
I sighed. God grant me one-tenth of the confidence of Christian Ronaldo after a game-one draw.
While I haven’t done much to master the rules of the game or understand its flow over the past few weeks, I’ve come to appreciate the World Cup for what it is: a spectacle, an escape, a wingding. You don’t need a clue to take part in that.
As we head into Round 2, I’m willing to pick my team for the win: Croatia. They play hard and they play well, but they still play like a scrappy underdog. A win for them isn’t exactly feasible, but it’s possible – and it would be fantastically entertaining if it happened. For the clueless fan, that’s the only thing that makes watching worthwhile.
Ha! I can relate to this one so much. I don’t care about most sports, but I do admit that I get swept up in the fun of the World Cup and I root for teams in a similar fashion as you do: always the underdog. At least… I go for the underdog until my country is playing (Sweden) — but Sweden even plays with humility I think, so I’m okay with it.
Oh, and give Johann my condolences for Germany… :)
I actually was rooting for Sweden against Germany… for a time at least. I got a little annoyed when I realised they were only playing to tie – not to win… that was cheap. I was also underwhelmed during the Croatia/Denmark game last night. I’m on record as being firmly pro-Croatia, but that match was lame. The only redeeming part was the Danish goalie, who looked like what would happen if Johann had an older brother who was really into sports.