Blue-eyed Satan 1 - Algeria 0

You cannot comprehend the euphoria in Loftus Versfeld Stadium following Landon Donovan’s goal in the 90^th minute. It was complete ecstatic mayhem! But let me back up.

The day started rather quiet. When I got off the shuttle from Jo’burg, there were very few Yanks to be seen on the streets. I wandered down a street that was filling up with Algerian supporters. I made a u-turn and continued looking for an American bar. I found one. The beers were flowing served by exceptionally cute waitresses, but the crowd was not especially boisterous. I think we were all a little nervous, knowing the match ahead was do-or-die.

I found my seat on the lower tier and greeted my stadium friend Steven from New Orleans. We’ve sat together at every match. Just before the teams came out an enormous Algerian flag unfurled from the terrace above. Outrageous! I jumped up and grabbed a piece to pull it down. Other Americans grabbed a hold. The Algerians above fearing they would lose their flag quickly pulled it back up. It never appeared again.

We started a new song when the goal in the 21^st minute was called back, feeling their may be some kind of FIFA conspiracy behind the growing number of calls against us across our 3 matches. It went: “Fuck you FIFA!”

You all saw the match so I won’t replay it for you in words. But wow! Holy crap! I was so moved I honestly found it hard to breathe after Donovan scored. I could have cried. Maybe I did. Everyone was jumping around and hugging and cheering and waving flags. This went on for 20 minutes after the match had finished and the teams had left the pitch.

I hate comparing soccer to other American sports. But it is worth illustrating the difference in how goals are celebrated on the pitch and in the stands. Your average American, the type that doesn’t care for soccer, often finds it difficult to understand why we, both players and fans, go bananas when a goal is scored. It is simple. It is impossibly difficult to achieve. So when it does happen there is an incomparable euphoria. Basketball: it is so easy to score it is almost boring. No need to celebrate. Baseball and grid-iron football: also fairly easy to score. But then the games stretch on for an eternity which increases the likelihood of scoring and decreases the need for excessive celebration.

There is another factor in World Cup football that adds to the goal scoring mayhem and that is country. There is something special and thrilling about national competition. There are those that will argue, and I would not dispute it, that club football is a superior brand of football. That is, Barcelona, AC Milan, Arsenal, etc. play better football than any national team in the World Cup. This fact only increases the joy of scoring a goal in the World Cup. You may have only three chances to do it (first round), and a maximum of seven if your team makes it to the final. At the club level goals happen week in and week out. If your team fails to score this Saturday there is always next Saturday, from August to May.

The US matches have been nothing if not exciting. While not the most talented team in the tournament, they certainly have pluck, as they say. These boys will keep you cheering and cursing and crying until the whistle blows, because they do not give up. It is a different group of Yanks that play for our national side now. In the old days, if we went a goal down heads were hanging low and the fighting spirit evaporated into the night. That, for me, is the greatest improvement US soccer has made. We believe.