Union worker. I make soap. I used to coach kids. Trying my best to travel the world. Welcome to the shitshow. Leave everything better than you found it
One thing Americans who don’t follow soccer might not know
Everyone will be supporting @USMNT or at least wanting you to do well
When the hosts are still in the tournament, there’s better energy, bigger crowds, more excitement, it just makes the World Cup experience better
Imagine traveling to the States thinking the World Cup would be a highlight of your life...
...and within days you've become a modern Tocqueville, chronicling a nation and its people in real time for the entire world, during what now amounts to a VIP all-access tour of America.
cracking up that the replies are almost exclusively Americans saying that every shower in the whole dang country inexplicably has different controls and all of us do the same humiliation ritual at hotels
the English World Cup team getting hit with natural disasters, equipment theft, and a series of other unfortunate events during America's 250th birthday celebrations is like the most delayed receipt in history
USA. A breakfast counter. The waitress recommended the biscuits and gravy, and when the plate arrived, I thought something had gone wrong in the kitchen.
I say this with shame. The dish looked like a construction site after rain. Pale mounds. Gray ladle-fall. Speckles I could not identify.
In my land, the eye eats first. A meal is arranged like a garden. This meal was arranged like weather.
"Is it… finished?" I asked, carefully.
"Honey, that's what it looks like."
The man beside me was already eating his. He did not look up. "Just try it."
I am a man who has charged hillsides at dawn. I raised the fork. I tried it.
I must now formally apologize to the biscuits, the gravy, the waitress, the kitchen, and the entire breakfast tradition of the American South.
It was magnificent. Warm. Peppered. The biscuit drank the gravy the way a field drinks rain — THAT is why it is shaped like that, you fool — and every mound I had insulted was a soft fold of comfort that my homeland, in eight hundred years, never once thought to invent.
"Well?" the waitress asked.
"I judged it," I confessed. "By its appearance. I am ashamed."
"Everybody does, hon."
Everybody does. A national dish that forgives you for doubting it. It expects the doubt. It waits for you on the other side of it.
Do not judge the gravy by its face. Judge yourself, for hesitating.
I order it every Saturday now. I no longer see the construction site. I see only the garden.
It was a garden the whole time. The eye must be trained.
people ask why others get so deeply involved into being sports fans:
it creates a sense of effortless community. regardless of whether you love or hate the same team, the magic is in the connection and the hope it brings. even if it's only for a few hours at a time, you get lost in something that's bigger than whatever's happening in your life. and for some people, it feels like the little treat they need.
Call it “soft as fuck” if you want but one thing the World Cup always seems to do, almost as soon as it begins, is remind you that you’ll likely enjoy your life a LOT more if you welcome people in and try to have a laugh rather than being consistently aggy.