The World Cup

So, there’s this game of football – known to some as soccer – and apparently it’s even come to the attention of Americans that there is a World Cup contest held every few years (and yes, it involves a whole slew of different nationalities, with one team per country, unlike the American-dominated baseball and basketball equivalents).

Well, the Portuguese natives and English tourists are equally soccer-made. This has a very odd impact on the population of the little tourist town of Alvor. Fortunately their rivalry doesn’t set them at odds. But in the middle of the day, I can walk down the main streets which are at the same time empty of pedestrians yet teeming with noise from avid supporters as they are all glued to the big flat screen TVs that are hosted in all bars.

And although this is a good time to get things done, I’m not immune either. I got sucked into the NZ-Slovakia match where I couldn’t believe the refs allowed the first Slovak goal when their players were offsides (even though I had to be reminded what this infraction meant). And I was equally elated when the All Whites tied it up with only 10 seconds of penalty overtime left to go. It really was an excellent match.

Unfortunately I missed the remaining NZ games, though I was eager to know the results afterwards. Yet with all the options for allegiances I share – NZ, USA, UK, Portugal – I’m already without any clear team to support. Now they’ve been knocked out, I wonder if the Portuguese support will default to their neighbours the Spanish?