The Beautiful Game
Weather: Hot and Sticky. And that’s just when I’m trying to sleep.
CD: John Lennon - Outtakes
On the Nightstand: Wir Kinder vom Bahnhof Zoo
My all-time, Top 5 stadium atmospheres that I’ve ever experienced.
1.) The Summit, Houston Tx. 1994 Game 5 of the Houston Rockets - Phoenix Suns playoff series.
2.) Olympic Stadium, Berlin Germany. 2006 World Cup match between Sweden and Paraguay
3.) Rose Bowl, Pasadena California. 2006 The University of Texas against the Greatest Team of All Time, the University of Southern California
4.) Enron Field, Houston Tx. 2002 Barry Bonds hits his 70th home run on his way to hitting 73 for the season, the cheating bastard.
5.) Any moment in which tears welled in my eyes during a Longhorn sporting event, which occurred with spectacular consistency all things considered and could easily compromise its own list. 1999-
Surprised you a bit, didn’t I? I’m not the orange-blooded, open-book you thought I was. The Rose Bowl, which I’m sure everyone except for myself would have checked as “my” top moment, was a beheomoth of athletic-fielded atmospheres that certainly gave me shivers, but there’s something about that Houston Rockets game that will forever stick in my mind. That was during the Choke City/Clutch City campaign — I still have my Clutch City poster from that game haning on my wall. I don’t know that I would be so impressed with the atmosphere had it had happened when I was 22 years old, but I was young and it was the first time I can remember the noise in the stadium giving me goosebumps.
Being in the Olympic Stadium for the World Cup last week is a whole nother league though. I finally understand the magic behind the beautiful game.
A friend had tickets to the Sweden-Paraguay game, but was unable to go due to work, and thus asked if I’d like to accompany his family to the game. My response: “Does the Pope wear a funny hat?” (in German though). We found our seats amidst the sea of urine-colored yellow the Swedes bathe themselves in as the national color. I joined the masses by borrowing a Swedish jersey from my roomate Jan. We stood for the national anthems as the teams came out to the field and for no reason other than the awesome-ness of the moment, I found tears welling up in my eyes. The game kicked into gear and for 89 minutes we were teased and tantalized with near-goals and hard misses. Then it happened. A header from the right side. Emotions exploded in shouts for Sveriga. My ears were left with a dull ringing as we left the stadium.
Soccer will suck you in. Unfortunately for Team America (*%&$ Yeah!), soccer simply sucked. A horrible game against Ghana left me to indulge myself in my American drink (Sir Jack), then put all my energy towards the German team. For the first knock-out game against Sweden, ironically enough, I managed to crowd myself on to the Strasse des 17. Junis with 700,000 of my closest friends to watch the game on one of the many screens set up on the street. Germany won, 2-0. Madness and euphoria were once again the order of the day. The next evening, the boys and I met up to play our own game. As Hilmar dribbled the ball down the field, I heard him chant to himself… “Auf geht’s wir schiessen ein Tor…”
The World Cup is incredible and I wish people in America could understand that. The people, the passions… But perhaps Michael Davies could explain it better than I could. His daily collumn on espn.com always manages to leave me with a smile.