The World Cup ends today. One game left. By tomorrow most of you visitors will be packing up, heading to the airport, going home.
So before you go, let me say the thing I actually want to say.
A few weeks ago I wrote a silly post about all the things you were discovering here. Free refills. Free water. Ice like civilized people. Chips and salsa before you even order. Air conditioning that is a fact and not a moral debate. Drive-throughs. Ranch by the gallon. The Germans standing in the HEB meat aisle in reverent silence, finally understanding why we do not have trains. Buc-ee’s, for which there are still no words.
It blew up, because it was true, and because you were so delightfully stunned by all of it.
Even the Wall Street Journal caught on. Their headline this week: how the US lost the World Cup and won over the world. We did not lift the trophy. But apparently we lifted something else.
We even learned a few things about ourselves along the way. Like the fact that Elon Musk, the single richest man on the planet, shops at HEB. Just rolls in and queues up for fresh tortillas with everybody else. The man could buy the tortilla company, the state it is in, and the moon it sits under, and instead he is standing in line at the hot-tortilla counter like the rest of us, because that is where the good ones are. Only in America is the wealthiest human alive elbow to elbow with a mom of four at the salsa bar. That is the whole country in one aisle.
And here is the part I want every one of you to hear on your way out the door.
None of it was a show.
We did not roll all this out because you were coming. The ice was always there. The refills were always free. The grocery stores were always the size of aircraft hangars at ten on a Tuesday. The stranger who adopted your whole section, the guy who gave you a ride, the waitress who remembered your order, the family that invited you to the cookout, that is not World Cup America. That is just America. That is Tuesday.
We are exactly like this when nobody is visiting. Loud, generous, ridiculous, overfed, and genuinely thrilled you came. We will still be exactly like this tomorrow when the stands are empty and the flags come down.
So thank you. To everyone who came, who sang in our streets, who cleaned our stadiums, who turned our cities orange and filled our bars and taught us your chants. You were wonderful guests, and you made a country that just turned 250 feel young and seen and loved.
And to everyone who could not make it this time, the door does not close today. We meant all of it. Come whenever. The porch light stays on, the fridge stays full, and there is always room for one more at the table.
You found out who we are these last few weeks.
Good news. We are like this all the time.
Safe travels home.
Y’all come back now, you hear. 🦋
@USMNT Makes me proud to be a former player, coach and referee in US Soccer, and mostly, as an American. As much as your fans hurt, I know your pain and resolve are there to continue to improve as an organization, and as a team. God bless you all and the United States of America 🇺🇸
On this day in 1776, the United States was actually born. Not July 4. July 2. That's the day the Continental Congress voted to break from Britain, and John Adams was so certain of it that he predicted July 2 would be the great American holiday forever. He nailed everything except the date.
The vote came down to the wire, and one man had to ride through the night to save it. Delaware's delegation was split, one for independence, one against, which meant the colony's vote canceled itself out. The tie-breaker, Caesar Rodney, was 80 miles away in Delaware. He got word that he was needed and rode all night through a summer thunderstorm, sick and in pain, boots and spurs still on, and made it into Philadelphia just in time to cast Delaware's vote for independence.
The other holdouts fell into place too. In Pennsylvania, the men most opposed, including John Dickinson, deliberately stayed away from the chamber so their colony could swing to yes. South Carolina came around for the sake of a united front. When the roll was called, twelve colonies voted for independence and not a single one voted against. New York simply abstained, waiting on permission from home.
And so, on July 2, 1776, it was done. The colonies had legally, officially declared themselves free. The next day Adams wrote to his wife Abigail that this day "will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival," with "pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations." Fireworks and all. He was describing the Fourth of July two days early.
So why do we celebrate the 4th? Because that's the day Congress approved the final wording of the document explaining the decision, the Declaration of Independence. The vote to be free happened on the 2nd. The paperwork got finished on the 4th, and history remembered the paperwork.
The country was actually born in a rainstorm and a roll call on July 2, thanks in part to one sick man who refused to let a tie decide the fate of a nation.
🚨🗣️New: Thierry Henry reacts to the USA vs Paraguay stoppage for TV commercials:
“I’ve spent my entire life in this beautiful game — as a player at the highest level, as a fan, and now as someone who analyses it every week — and what unfolded during that USA versus Paraguay match left me deeply frustrated. The fourth official standing there on the touchline, arm raised high, instructing the referee to hold the restart… not for any injury, not for tactical reasons, and not even primarily for player hydration in that scorching heat. No. It was because the broadcast team hadn’t finished airing all their commercials. That’s not football. That’s a television show pretending to be a World Cup match.
The beautiful game is being strangled by greed. Players are out there in the heat, ready to restart, momentum building like a storm about to break — and we pause everything so the sponsors can cash in. It’s like stopping a symphony mid-crescendo because the advertisers want their jingle heard. Football didn’t conquer the world by turning into American sports with endless timeouts and ad breaks. We had rhythm, flow, emotion that flowed like a river. Now? It’s dammed up for dollars.
This isn’t about hydration or player welfare anymore — it’s a slippery slope where the soul of the game is sold piece by piece. Fans deserve better. Players deserve better. The referee on that pitch looked like a puppet on strings controlled from some broadcast truck. Enough is enough. We need to protect what made this sport the greatest on Earth before it disappears completely.”
The World Cup should be football’s cathedral. Instead, we’re turning it into a shopping mall with a pitch in the middle.
And here’s the question nobody wants to answer: if the fourth official is waiting for commercials, then who is really running the game? FIFA? The referee? Or the broadcasters?
Because the moment football starts asking advertisers for permission before asking the players, you’ve crossed a line.
The World Cup is supposed to be the showcase of football. Not the showcase of who paid the most for airtime.”
@arizonaalumni Who was in Tucson in the mid-70s? ~ 1974 or 1975, my first UofA football game, THIS was the logo? ‘83 grad so my favorite is different from my most memorable. Like the cactus logo.