Soccer Comes to the United States

As a kid, one of the most painful cultural shocks is the day you realize your favorite sport, the one everyone in your country loves, is irrelevant elsewhere. I couldn’t fathom that there were kids around the world who weren’t Real Madrid fans. I still don’t get it. It’s like someone saying they don’t like beer. I mean, go see a doctor, a mechanic, or something — maybe you’ve got a flat tire in your foot, or you’re leaking oil, or who knows. Something’s clearly off. Beer and Real Madrid are nonnegotiable loves for anyone with a soul, and I’m not open to debating it.

But sports have changed. Globalization has spread all the world’s misery across the globe, but among the garbage, some good stuff has gone global too, if only to purify the phenomenon. One of those is the fluidity of sports fandom. Isn’t it amazing? Before, you only had 90 minutes a week to enjoy your team’s game, but now you can grab a case of beer and spend the whole afternoon on the couch, flipping from soccer to the NBA, then the NFL, baseball, cycling, and end up throwing popcorn at the screen because your favorite sumo wrestler (probably named Wong Chu Hung, Shi Tzu, or something like that) lost a match. Dave Barry dreamed of this. The other night, I woke up on the couch at dawn still watching a chess match. I’d been asleep for three hours, and no moves had been made. Okay, not everything is a sport. I, sitting on the couch, was being more athletic than those guys.

Anyway, way more people in Europe are following the NFL now, and the soccer that drives us Europeans wild has spread to every continent. I’m writing this because in two weeks, a new international soccer tournament, the FIFA Club World Cup, kicks off in the United States. It’s an event that aims to be massive, and I can’t think of a better country to host it.

A few months ago, FIFA’s president took the trophy to the White House to show it off to the world, and I can’t get Donald Trump’s indifferent expression out of my mind. Infantino’s not exactly a charming guy and has never come across as the most trustworthy. I bet Trump was more worried about him pickpocketing than about the trophy. Plus, the cup was covered with a cloth and unveiled to the press for the first time. Since it’s the inaugural edition, there was some curiosity about whether it’d look nice. The Spanish league trophy is nice, the World Cup trophy is nice, the Champions League trophy is gorgeous. But the Club World Cup trophy? It’s the tackiest, most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen. You can’t hand out a trophy that spins and comes apart, leaving you wondering if it’s a prize, Ptolemy’s sphere, or a carrot slicer.

Aesthetics aside, I’m really curious to see how my American friends will experience the Club World Cup. I imagine the general vibe will be indifference, and I get it. The good news is that, among a bunch of teams, the greatest club in the world is competing — and as you probably guessed, that’s Real Madrid. Yup, my team. Watching Real Madrid play is the closest thing to poetry in sports, to put it in a way kids can read if they’re still up.

The tournament will also mark the farewell of Luka Modric, Real Madrid’s most decorated player, a Croatian of a rare breed: insanely talented at soccer, a great guy, smart, funny, and always putting human values and family first. He’s retiring at the top of his game, and it’ll be a privilege to watch him one last time in Real Madrid’s jersey. He’s not even gone yet, and I’m already missing him!

The Club World Cup wraps up on July 13, my birthday. It’d be thrilling to celebrate with Real Madrid lifting the trophy on American soil. If not, I’ll be raising some glasses in Spain. To forget. I admit I’m not the most mature sports fan — more the visceral type. The kind who doesn’t speak for three days when my team loses. In other words, a normal guy. I don’t get people who go to work like nothing happened the day after their team loses a trophy final. A loss-induced sulk is the most justified sick leave in the world, way more than a car accident, the flu, or falling down an elevator shaft. We’re surrounded by weaklings.

If you’re unsure who to cheer for, I’m counting on you: root for the white jersey, root for the most decorated badge in the world. A quick anecdote: Real Madrid’s stadium is the Santiago Bernabéu — a must-visit when you come to Spain. It’s named after the club’s most famous president. In the stadium’s locker room tunnel, there’s a wall with his image and his most famous quote: “Real Madrid’s jersey can be stained with blood, sweat, and tears, but never with shame.” That might be all you need to know about Real Madrid and what it means to us. Soccer’s great, sure, but it’s more than that: it’s a damn attitude toward life. The right one. And that’s not up for debate either.

READ MORE:

The New Diplomacy Doesn’t Care About Old Friendships

Men Love a Big Carbon Footprint

The post Soccer Comes to the United States appeared first on The American Spectator | USA News and Politics.