This is a guest post by TampaBayScene’s Ryan Hatter
Something was different this time.
I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something has changed. Perhaps it is a dramatic change; perhaps it is subtle. But trust me, something was different this time.
No, the Stars and Stripes did not hoist the World Cup trophy, but it was never really about that, was it? Let’s be honest: this Cup was always a means to an end. It was a pit stop on a road that extends far beyond what the eye can see. I experienced a piece of this change and I was lucky enough to do so both in Brazil and in the States.
“BELIEVE.”
I’m sure you’ve heard it by now, the rallying call that swept America off her feet. “I BELIEVE THAT WE WILL WIN!” Beautiful in its simplicity, America was able to rally around the chant that seemed to propel our team forward for just one more goal, one more win. From the stadiums in various cities across Brazil to sports bars across our country, we believed. We believed loudly. In Natal, when John Anthony Brooks (who has been proclaimed the greatest American since Lincoln) headed home the winner against Ghana, the stadium erupted around me. Beer drenched my hair and shirt. One of my eardrums may have ruptured. I didn’t care. I screamed and laughed and cried (Literally. I cried). From that moment on, I knew our United States Men’s National Team was going to make some waves during this World Cup.
I returned home after we secured our advancement from the “Group of Life” (We aren’t dead, are we?) and I rounded up a crew to watch the game at a shoulder-to-shoulder packed Peabody’s. If you were there, you surely noticed me; I was the lunatic starting all the chants. You all saw the game; I don’t need to tell you what happened, but I might need to tell you what you felt. With our backs against the wall, down 2-0 in extra time, we clawed one back with Julian Green’s deft goal via a sublime assist from Michael Bradley. Everyone at Peabody’s, and surely everyone across the country, believed we would tie the game and win it in penalties. That didn’t happen, of course, but something more important did: American soccer culture was born.
Via: lastwordonsports.com
There is something Americans can identify with our national soccer team. Hard work, perseverance, diversity, camaraderie, never-say-die. Clint Dempsey, for example, rose from rags, familial sacrifice and tragedy to become the American superstar he is today. Tim Howard has overcome Tourette Syndrome to earn his spot in front of the goal for his country. And man, did he inspire us or what! Maybe the next Michael Jordan has ripped off his Lebron James jersey and replaced it with a Dempsey or Howard one. Hordes of Americans became soccer fans for more than just two months every four years. Surely now I won’t be the only one on my Twitter timeline who will mention the game we win which will qualify us for the 2018 World Cup.
Via: blog.edufii.com
I’m not a fool. I know soccer won’t suddenly take over football as the most popular sport in our country. Nor will it take over baseball, basketball, or hockey, but it continues to grow. Slowly, yes, but the tortoise beat the hare. The staggering TV ratings for this World Cup are a sign of things to come. MLS just secured a landmark network deal with ESPN, Fox Sports and Univision that will only serve to increase viewership and exposure of the beautiful game to our beautiful country. The tides have turned. Soccer is a thing now in America and it’s here to stay.
Call me crazy, but here is what I BELIEVE: The United States of America will WIN the World Cup next time it is hosted in America. That is not far away, either.
Via: gaia.adage.com
Featured photo courtesy of: globalfire.com
