Every four years, thirty-two of the world’s nations drop their weapons, paint their faces, and come together despite their differences to kick a round, spotted ball back and forth for 90 minutes. Until recently, most Americans gave hardly a thought to such international tomfoolery, writing it off as—to quote the great Robin Williams—a sport for damaged people (with French accent). Thankfully, over time, the American people have come more and more to begrudgingly support soccer, despite its many flaws: dirty headbutting Albanians from France, Itals that take dives more often than Greg Louganis, 0-0 ties, and, worst of all, the stupid crybaby grimaces that each and every player gets on their face anytime they are even close to being touched by another player.
Anyhow, being that we Herms are, indeed, Herms, and therefore huge bros, it logically follows that we truly love sportsball in all its various forms. Despite its flaws, soccer is one of the earliest and most popular forms of sportsball ever played. Thus, the 2010 World Cup was one of the major reasons we planned this little shindig down in South America.
La Copa began June 11th. Unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, the first day of matches resulted in a 1-1 tie between South Africa and Mexico and a real barnburner that saw Uruguay and France both kiss their sisters: 0-0. But the real action didn’t start ‘til Day 2, when both Argentina and the USA were in action.
We woke up around 9:30am, popped open a few Quilmes, and donned our Argentina gear with a layer of USA gear underneath in preparation. We weren’t sure exactly what to expect, as many locals had been pretty consistent in their prediction that the entire city more or less shuts down during Argentina’s games. Initial evidence would suggest this, as we found it impossible to catch a cab and then found the subway totally empty en route to Plaza San Martin, where they show all the games live on a massive big screen. However, the crowd there was not quite as impressive as we had imagined, given the steady rain and the sheer terror that any and all Argentines emote when the weather is anything but perfect. That being said, the rain did well to root out all the fair-weather fans (pun intended) and allow us to party with only the true diehard hooliganistas of BsAs (as well as a hoard of other gringos from Boston College).
The match turned out to be much more lopsided than the score would indicate, as the trio of Gonzalo Higuain, Carlos Tevez, and Lionel Messi (pictured below) managed to control possession and deliver a 1-0 blow to the heart of the Nigerian squad. We picked up a quick snack of Lays Stax potato chips, some bologna, and more Quilmes before heading to a bar to watch the main event of the day as TEAM USA took on those limey bastards from across the pond. Luckily enough for us, we walked into a bar with a contingent of Brits posted up in the middle of the room, ripe to be slayed by our undying patriotism and love of freedom.
Things didn’t start out too well for AMERICA, as Steven Garard put in a goal for the redcoats no more than 10 minutes into the game. With halftime approaching and the group of Brits becoming more and more confident, we fretted that we might have to resort to reminding them of our sheer dominance in clashes that actually have mattered throughout history—American Revolution, War of 1812, WWI, WWII just off the top of my head. Fortunately, the intercontinental hate would remain relevant to this game, as midfielder extraordinaire, Clint Dempsey, managed to squeak a shot by for a goal shortly into the second half. Some say it was lucky, as English goalkeep Robert Green seemed to let go a shot that most seventh graders could stop. I say Manifest Destiny. The Brits at the bar were soon after treated to an elegant and much deserved chorus of “AMERICA, FUCK YEAH!” and “USA,USA,USA!” Yes, it was a tie, but we’ll take it given all the cocky smirks it wipe off the face of British people everywhere.
After that, the day gets a tad hazy, as our supposed nap around 7pm turned into a 12 hour sleep back at the apartment.
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