World Cup Update

Hello Folks,
It's been a while and I have over two months of adventures to fill you in on. But while the story is hot, I'm posting a piece below on my world cup adventures. The renowned writer Alex Katz has connected me with the Boston Globe and I've been sending them updates about what's been going on in South Africa 2010. They'll be printing some of my stuff on a regular basis, but I'm posting it now below, so you have a chance to get a sneak peak of these stories before it hits the heavy print. Enjoy and go USA!

I am travelling all around South Africa by bus. FIFA, which despite all the good it is providing this country through bringing the world cup here, has taken an almost martial law role, taking control over many public industries during the world cup. All trains, except for one route, are reserved for FIFA officials throughout the duration of the world cup, which is why I will have to take buses instead. Also, in regards to FIFA's role in taking control of the regular running of the country, many vendors who daily sell their goods near Greenpoint stadium in Cape Town have been forced to move elsewhere to make room for the official FIFA vendors. Not only does this take away the opportunity for these vendors to make more money, it restricts them from continuing to run the everyday business that they rely on to support themselves. FIFA associates are favored in such a way that often serves to help FIFA out while neglecting the interests of the local population. A few days ago, a Nigerian man was arrested for selling FIFA world cup tickets. Under FIFA martial law, which surprasses South African law, he was sentenced to three years in jail. Hopefully when the world cup is over, the South African goverment will have the courage to stand up to a bunch of highly paid soccer hooligans, and re-enforce their own constitution.


Overall excitement- there has a been an extreme buzz about this world cup the street bums to high academics. Even in politics class, the topic of 2010 has been consistently raised, as it has brought in a wave of optimism and economists debate as to whether the world cup will bring sustainable growth to the economy or whether it will merely be a short-term boost to the country, and won't have any long lasting effects. Also, a huge subject that is regularly discussed is whether the world cup will benefit those that need it most- the poor and the unemployed, which make up over 40% of South Africa's population. Amongst friends, classmates, and even strangers on the street, the subject of the world cup, and what YOU will be doing and where YOU will be when it happens, is always eagerly discussed. There have been countdown clocks to the start of the world cup all over the city- in malls, banks, and even on the University of Cape Town homepage. As the clock has ticked down, more and more people are getting into the world cup vibe, as expressed by the numerous South African flags hanging on car windows. Occasionally at the grocery store or bank, all the employees wear bafana bafana jerseys to work, the uniform of the South African national team.


During the past few days the excitement for the world cup has, as expected, reached even higher levels. A few days ago was national vuvuzela day, in which at exactly noon, people all over the country went out to the streets to blow their vuvuzelas, a South African horn that is used to make noise during soccer games. At a club the other night, K'Naan's Waving Flag song, the "unofficial-official" Anthem of the World Cup was played, and immediately the entire dance floor turned into a scene right from a backstreet boys concert. Everyone, boys and girls alike, jumped up and down, screeching each and every lyric with a huge smile on their faces as the song played on.


Today, the opening day of the world cup, the buzz has been elevated to an even higher level. Driving around today, the suburbs were full of vendors selling South African apparel, and the butterflies in my stomach would not dissipate. All over the city, drivers honked just for the sake of it. Strangers smiled at each other as if they were greeting long lost friends. The sun was shining in the middle of Cape Town's winter and it was purely a glorious day.


On my train ride into town, the cart was full of people dressed in the blue, white, green, yellow and black of South Africa's flag. Vuvuzelas were abound, and people were blowing them just for the sake of it. The train ride was going on at the same time as the opening game, and at one point everyone on one end of the cart started cheering. Like a rolling wave, the jubilant noise spread down the compartment, as everyone thought that Bafana Bafana scored a goal. It turns out that the source of this cheering was just a general sense of excitement, but its contagious quality just shows how in tune everyone was with the vibe of the day.


Getting into town, the fan park designed to be a place to watch the opening game, was completely full. 25,000 people. A variety of stores, from barbershops to hardware stores, put TVs in their windows, and crowds pressed their faces against the glass, watching South Africa's opening match with every ounce of their attention. Despite South Africa's under-dog position, the locals have real high hopes that Bafana Bafana can do some serious damage this world cup. Walking around the city, this same sight repeated everywhere. Hoards of people crowded around a glass window to gaze at a single small TV set. With every close shot, the crowds on the street would jump up, shouting, so you could tell what was happening without even looking at the TV. Finally, I managed to get into a very overcrowded bar after talking to the manager, and I watched the second half of the opening match there with my good ol' mate, Jon Bellar. Inside, the place was so crowded, I had to sit on the floor. When South Africa scored the first goal, the place went down in screams and Vuvuzela blows. The sense of hope was no longer a dream in this moment that South Africa took the lead. Some steam was blown out of the celebration when Mexico evened up the score, yet the celebrations after the game were still ecstatic. Crowds took over the street, blowing vuvuzelas. Strangers hugged me and even took pictures with me. Various nationalities represented themselves in self-determined marching parades, that were marched to the beat of hand drums and cowbells (Santos lives on!) A South African call and response song, Shoshaloza, was song with enthusiasm throughout the night. It is a song relating to the resistance against apartheid, and its rhythm and flow unifed the crowd like nothing else. It's something you all must hear when I get back.

I watched the Uruguay V France game in greenpoint stadium. The stadium is beautiful and grand from the inside out. The most surprising aspect of the game was that the Uruguay and French fans did not have nearly the same amount of energy as the South Africans. Waiting in line to get into the stadium, which took almost an hour and included a blackout, I heard the "Shosholoza" being sung much more than any Uruguay or French chants. Once inside, the fans were surprisingly passive, as besides standing up to participate in the wave, stayed in their seats quite quietly. You know it's too quiet at a sports game when you can easily carry on a conversation with the person next to you, which is something I did much of the game.


Heading back to the downtown district after the game, the South Africans were still going wild about the opening match that they didn't even win, but tied! Locals peered down from bar porches above, dancing and smiling, eager to make eye contact with anyone in the crowd below and exchange a moment of pure connection. These people love to engage and interact, and are amped about getting a smile out of anyone in the crowd. Long Street, the party street in downtown Cape Town, was still covered in people. At a certain point, this became such a problem for the cars, that a line of 16 police cars drove through the street, hoping it would clear off the crowd. The effectiveness of this plan was minimal, as immediately after the caravan of police cars drove past, the crowd would simply return to the street.


The people of this country have been waiting five years for the celebration of a lifetime. This country is plagued by the highest inequality rate in the world, devastating levels of unemployment, and lack of access to proper education and housing for the majority of the population. Yet, in light of all of this, the people of South Africa are eager to put their problems aside for 4 weeks, and focus on bringing out a gusto for life and an overall sense of unity that is a rarity in even the most developed of countries.

I was at the US V Slovenia game last night, so I think its best if I capture that experience.

When applying for world cup tickets, I made sure to purchase matches that would bring out the wildest and craziest fans. So far, to tell you the truth, I had been disappointed in many of the followers I have seen, which has included blockbuster teams France and Spain. Not so with the red, white and blue painted fans of last night's USA V Slovenia game (Slovenia, along with Australia and many other countries, also sport red, white and blue flags, but I can trust you know who I'm talking about.) I've heard that there are more US fans in South Africa than any other country, and last night's game proved that to me without a doubt.

Upon arriving a half mile away from Ellis Park stadium, the streets were already filled with bodies dawned in American flag capes. Walking closer to the stadium, the buzz of the vuvuzelas continued to increase along with the display of American pride in the form of painted faces, cowboy outfits, and even Thing 1 and Thing 2 (Everybody knows Dr. Suess was American). More than the Spanish, French, Uruguayan, and Spanish combined, the Americans came out to cheer for their side like nothing I've seen in this world cup. And they say we don't care about soccer hey! The sense of comraderie was most apparent in fellow Americans sympathizing with me with a hug when I told them I was from Boston in the wake of the Celtics game 7 loss(of course, except for Lakers fans, whom I had to excert much self-control to see them as fellow Americans rather than as my all time historical rival).

The buzz of the Vuvuzelas was painful to my ears and unfortunately I forgot my earplugs so graciously given to me by Jos Horowitz. I was deeply concerned that I would be a victim of permanent hearing damage, and seriously considered stuffing my ears with toilet paper. Lucky enough, I did not have to resort to these desperate measures. Outside the stadium, there was a cellphone company that was handing out giveaways from a raised stage. I pushed my way to the front and stuck my hand up, shouting: "hey bru, feed it to the post!" Although the bus rides around South Africa have been especially painful due to my height, here was an opportunity where it gave me a great advantage. The post was fed, I opened up the giveaway, and waa-laa: there were a pair of earplugs inside. I immediately put them on and didn't take them off until I left the stadium over 2 hours later.

Upon entering into the stadium, the star spangled banner blew from all directions. I was surprised to see that even on the Stadium's ceiling an American flag was hanging, with no Slovenia flag next to it. Surely, it was the work of some clever American fans. The best part of it all was that almost all the South African locals were supporting our nation, as I could hear the South African accents joining into the constant chants of U-S-A. In the stands, there was the scarce Slovenian here and there, one of whom, unfortunately for his sake, happened to be sitting next to me, alone, deep in pure-bred American territory. The Slovenias were an extreme minority at this event, as common as an Italian in the South end.

Until yesterday, I never truly understood the full excitement behind a soccer game. Unlike traditional American sports, such as football and basketball, the scoring in soccer is minimal, with few opportunities to get excited over your team gaining some points. However, during the USA-Slovenia game, I realized that what makes watching soccer such an intense experience is not the goals themselves, but the build up to the ecstatic moment of release when your team finally puts one in. Starting the first half off 2-0, I can't begin to describe how frusturated I was watching team USA play. Slovenia scored with ease, burning our defense multiple times, allowing easy one-on-goalie shots. Meanwhile, the USA offense blew one chance after the next, failing to finish off key plays with a simple header or redirection kick. It was a tease like no other. With every failed USA attempt, I felt like a child at an ice cream store, reaching over the counter for a double-scoop waffle cone, only to have it fall to the ground just when it touched my hands. The angst and tension was entrenched in the energy of the USA crowd.

In the second half, Donovan aggresively attacked the goal, shooting one straight to the top of the net, and the crowd exploded like a canon in the American revolution. A pale friend of mine all of a sudden turned red in the face like a sirloin steak. In celebration the USA bench cleared, strangers embraced, and little children cried amongst the chaos and noise. A single goal contained all the sports ammunition and adrenaline of a Ray Allen playoff buzzer beater ( I can still imagine, can't I?). Yet, we were still down 2-1, and more work was left to be done. As the time ticked on, each and every missed opportunity brought about a drastic rise and fall in my heartbeat. We passed the 80th minute, and butterflies flapped in my stomach at the dreadful thought of the American nation, of over 300 million people, losing to the mere 2 million people of Slovenia. On the 82nd minute, Michael Bradley striked with destiny, as the coach's son laid another one in, tying up the game 2-2, and bringing screaming tears back to any little children that found a few moments to rest in between the goals. The crowd erupted once again, as the "shot that was heard around the world" was reincarted in the form of a soccer goal. The adrenaline pumped straight from my heart into the veins of my arms, exploding so much energy into my blood, that I felt like the Sith lord at the end of Star Wars episode 6, on the verge of releasing red, white, and blue lighting bolts from my very own fingertips. I finally understood what soccer was all about.

Before the end of the game, the US scored another goal that was immediately taken back. Without a doubt, the call was incorrect and the US deserved to win the game. Nonethess, the US fans were stoked, as the tie against Slovenia leaves our world cup destiny in our own hands. With a win against Algeria next week, the USA will move on to the round of 16. Despite being robbed of our hard earned victory, the USA players put on a spectacular effort in front of an American crowd, and a collection shift in the world perception of USA soccer is well under way. America is here to play.