Sunday, July 09, 2006
The Whole World Is Watching
It’s the eve of the 2006 World Cup Soccer Championship game. Sad to say the good ol’ US of A did not advance out of their group. The longer a team stays alive, the longer the country is united and has something to cheer about. It was exciting to see the surprise teams of Ghana, Australia, and Ecuador make it to the second round. The excitement and passion on the faces of the players, coaches and fans say it all. This is what this tournament is all about. Even though American fans had little to cheer about, I’ll still be watching until the end. I’ll not only be watching because of my love for the game and the tournament, but because I have something at stake. At the onset of the tournament I got in a pool. Now, this isn’t an office pool or one amongst a big group of friends. This pool has only two participants, me and my dad.
I came up with my own rules, where before Game 1, we pick the winner of every game in the first round, then pick the final 16, the final 8, the final 4, the third place winner and the champion. It’s based on a 500-point system. You pick the winners and sit back and watch. My dad also came up with his own rules. His is based on a 1,000-point system and required us calling in our predicted winners at the start of every round. He did take what he liked from my proposed rules and incorporated that into a complex bonus points system. So complex in fact, that I haven’t quite figured it out. I just keep picking the winners and he keeps letting me know that I’m still in the lead.
We both invested a lot of time into this. I would get up and turn on Univision, the Spanish television station, to see who was winning the 8am game. I paid attention to teams representing countries I’ve never heard of before. I would check the scores online and figure out the next match ups. According to my mother, my dad has had newspapers, crayons, color-coded charts, and an adding machine cluttering up the entire living room for the past month. She assists him in watching the newscasts just in case they mention something about soccer. My parents are living up in the Wisconsin Northwoods with no cable, Spanish stations or computers. I’m living in one of the biggest melting pot cities in America. Every country in the tournament probably has a community in Chicago and I can go to their viewing parties and experience their passion. It’s funny. With this much involvement, which at times borders on obsession, you would think we have something big riding on this: large amounts of cash, a trophy, an “if I win you get to be my personal servant for a week” wager. But no, there’s been no mention of any of that. We don’t even have a dollar riding on it. I guess there are bragging rights, but that will get old after about 30 seconds. Neither one of us had to be talked into playing or talked out of betting on it. We both just jumped in and went for it. No amount of money, prizes, or glory can equal the fun of playing, and yet we’re both playing to win. As the tournament progressed we paid even closer attention to the points and Dad had to develop some risky strategies to stay in the running.
Our involvement of viewing the game and cheering loudly feels like we’re contributing to the outcome. Watching soccer can be a mood-altering drug. People around us are actually affected by our competency of picking the winner. Our moods will affect their moods which will affect others. Our seemingly harmless soccer pool has the power of an epidemic and there’s no turning back. And yet there’s something magical about bonding through a shared interest. For my dad and me, it’s been soccer. He coached me from 3rd grade all the way through high school. We attended games during the ’94 World Cup and the ’99 Women’s World Cup. In 2003, we watched the US and Mexico national teams play to a scoreless tie in a sold-out Houston stadium. So when the World Cup came around, we didn’t think twice about putting our everyday lives on hold for a month. For us, it’s about connecting with each other and the world. For the past month, along with the rest of the world, we’ve watched the colors, the flags, the fans, the goals, the saves, the yellow cards, red cards, the penalty kicks, the jubilant celebrations and the brain-numbing disbelief that hits both fans and players alike when it’s all over for their country. It’s all passion and I feel richer for having shared in that collective passion. The way both our pool and the tournament is designed is that there can only be one champion. It’s just a matter of hours before the captain for Italy or France hoists the trophy for the whole world to see. But even the coveted trophy can not even hold a candle to the real prize… Connection. One Game, One World, Oneness.
Peace, Love and Donuts,
Danny Donuts
© 2006, Danny Donuts, dannydonuts.com
I came up with my own rules, where before Game 1, we pick the winner of every game in the first round, then pick the final 16, the final 8, the final 4, the third place winner and the champion. It’s based on a 500-point system. You pick the winners and sit back and watch. My dad also came up with his own rules. His is based on a 1,000-point system and required us calling in our predicted winners at the start of every round. He did take what he liked from my proposed rules and incorporated that into a complex bonus points system. So complex in fact, that I haven’t quite figured it out. I just keep picking the winners and he keeps letting me know that I’m still in the lead.
We both invested a lot of time into this. I would get up and turn on Univision, the Spanish television station, to see who was winning the 8am game. I paid attention to teams representing countries I’ve never heard of before. I would check the scores online and figure out the next match ups. According to my mother, my dad has had newspapers, crayons, color-coded charts, and an adding machine cluttering up the entire living room for the past month. She assists him in watching the newscasts just in case they mention something about soccer. My parents are living up in the Wisconsin Northwoods with no cable, Spanish stations or computers. I’m living in one of the biggest melting pot cities in America. Every country in the tournament probably has a community in Chicago and I can go to their viewing parties and experience their passion. It’s funny. With this much involvement, which at times borders on obsession, you would think we have something big riding on this: large amounts of cash, a trophy, an “if I win you get to be my personal servant for a week” wager. But no, there’s been no mention of any of that. We don’t even have a dollar riding on it. I guess there are bragging rights, but that will get old after about 30 seconds. Neither one of us had to be talked into playing or talked out of betting on it. We both just jumped in and went for it. No amount of money, prizes, or glory can equal the fun of playing, and yet we’re both playing to win. As the tournament progressed we paid even closer attention to the points and Dad had to develop some risky strategies to stay in the running.
Our involvement of viewing the game and cheering loudly feels like we’re contributing to the outcome. Watching soccer can be a mood-altering drug. People around us are actually affected by our competency of picking the winner. Our moods will affect their moods which will affect others. Our seemingly harmless soccer pool has the power of an epidemic and there’s no turning back. And yet there’s something magical about bonding through a shared interest. For my dad and me, it’s been soccer. He coached me from 3rd grade all the way through high school. We attended games during the ’94 World Cup and the ’99 Women’s World Cup. In 2003, we watched the US and Mexico national teams play to a scoreless tie in a sold-out Houston stadium. So when the World Cup came around, we didn’t think twice about putting our everyday lives on hold for a month. For us, it’s about connecting with each other and the world. For the past month, along with the rest of the world, we’ve watched the colors, the flags, the fans, the goals, the saves, the yellow cards, red cards, the penalty kicks, the jubilant celebrations and the brain-numbing disbelief that hits both fans and players alike when it’s all over for their country. It’s all passion and I feel richer for having shared in that collective passion. The way both our pool and the tournament is designed is that there can only be one champion. It’s just a matter of hours before the captain for Italy or France hoists the trophy for the whole world to see. But even the coveted trophy can not even hold a candle to the real prize… Connection. One Game, One World, Oneness.
Peace, Love and Donuts,
Danny Donuts
© 2006, Danny Donuts, dannydonuts.com
