world cup fun

One of my favorite moments as a sports spectator came four years ago in a New Orleans Irish bar filled with Brazilians.
It was the final game of the 2002 World Cup, between Germany and Brazil. The game was being played in Japan or South Korea (I don't remember which country hosted the title game) and so kicked off at 5 a.m. New Orleans time.
My buddy Wright and I started the night before, with the goal of ended up in the Quarter at a bar we were told had been adopted by the local Brazilian community for the tournament.
We showed up an hour before game time, and the bar was nearly empty. But in the next half hour or so, every square foot in the bar was packed and everyone was rooting for Brazil.
Fans hung flags and banners, chanted throughout the game and there was even an air horn among the crowd.
It was all of the best aspects of watching sports: a roomful of strangers turned into best friends, united in every Brazil attack, euphoric at each Brazil goal. I would have barely cared about the result if I'd watched the game at home, but in the midst of the revelry, I could share in the euphoria of the contest and eventual victory. The fact it all happened between 5 and 7 in the morning just added to the atmosphere of the whole event.

I'm reminded of that World Cup fairly often during this one. Not because I've had any experience similar so far this time around, but simply because the games are once again at an impossible time.
Four years ago, it was impossible to casually watch any of the World Cup, because all the games kicked off sometime between 2 a.m. and 6 a.m.
Four years later, it is impossible to casually watch any of the World Cup, because all the games kick off sometime between 2 a.m. and 6 a.m.
Yes, somehow I've managed to once again end up on the opposite side of the globe from the World's Biggest Sporting Event. It takes dedication to watch sports at times like those. You either have to stay awake until the game finishes or force yourself to wake up at strange times.
Unusually for me, I've actually had more luck waking up at odd hours. Last night, for example, I dragged myself out of bed at 2:45 a.m., after about three hours of sleep, to head out and find a pub showing the US/Ghana game. (The first-round games are only showing on cable, which the hostel doesn't have).
I wandered downtown to my first choice, only to find the bar was only showing Italy playing the Czech Republic. I headed to another pub rumored to be open, to find the US game on a big screen in a back room.
There were about 15 fans watching, most of whom appeared to be displaced Americans (I'd guess most were studying abroad at the University here). I didn't arrive until halftime, however.
There was no opportunity for bonding through sport here. With the States down 2-1 and needing two goals to advance, the mood wasn't celebratory. I watched a mostly desultory half of soccer before heading home for another four hours of sleep.
Regardless, I'm glad I headed out. I feel like I've achieved something each time I say I'm going to watch a game and actually manage to do so. And even when there isn't a celebration, there's something about wandering the deserted early-morning streets, opening the door to a bar open specifically for World Cup fans, and finding a group of people who are just as idiotic as you are to be up at a time rarely seen simply to watch a game of soccer.

(One of the best single moments of watching that game with the Brazilians: There were two constant chants from the crowd. One was easy to pick up: Ole, Ole, Ole, Ole, Bra-zil, Bra-zil.
The other I couldn't make out, After about 30 minutes, I turned to the fan sitting on my right.
"What are you chanting?"
"Oh, that's 'Fuck the Germans,' in Portuguese."
I think that's a phrase that should be in the guidebook for every country. It seems like a sentiment most of the world is united behind.)