Well, here we are. The rosters are out. The chips are bought. I think I am staying in so that I don't weep in front of strangers which ever way this goes. This is a hard emotional attachment to explain but I very clearly remember its beginning, jumping up and down on my couch in 1994 as the USA dropped Columbia. It was the most American I had ever felt and I loved yelling for my country and meaning it.
I was fortunate enough to be in the stadium in Suwon in 2002 when Portugal fell and I sulked through 2006. And here it is. The U.S. versus England. It doesn't determine the whole cup. It doesn't mean everything. When Ed and I got back from Korea, full of all the exhilaration of history, our English friend brushed it off, "But that was just a fluke really, wasn't it?" Of course my stake in this game isn't so petty, but it would be nice for those of us who grew up playing the game to not have to put up with condescension and derision from those who grew up watching it on TV and therefore feel more knowledgeable. Hubris is a fat straw and it is usually America that is having to bend over and suck hard at it. Not in this case. I, as usual, wish the English team well. I very much want them to win the World Cup. I think bursting their little bubble will be just the thing to put them over the edge.
USA 2 England 1
It could go any myriad of ways. It could get sloppy and out of control. It could very easily be a tie. Somehow I just see it happening.
Prepare your stanky leg.