New friends

I think it’s safe to say most of us, a mere three weeks ago or so, couldn’t have named a single soccer player if our lives depended on it.

I know that, if pressed to come up with any name, the first in my mind would be Pelé — which of course horribly dates me — and second would be David Beckham, which dates me only slightly less.  With considerably more effort, I could come up with the big names of the current soccer era: Neymar, Messi, Mbappé and Cristiano Ronaldo. Upon doing a little reading, I came across other names I recognized but certainly couldn’t have pulled out of my brain without the additional prompting.

Now, as World Cup competition is winding down, this former non-fan, who openly admitted to nearly 100-percent ignorance of the sport the rest of the world covets, is a convert. I’m so proud of so many of these players you would swear I had given birth to them. I know their tournament stats, I know about their parents and siblings, I know how many daily calories they consume, I’ve learned about their home countries and I know all about their recovery routines and game day rituals.

My new son, Erling Braut Neal Haaland. Photo credit: Getty Images

Though he is listed as one of the world’s top players, I had never heard of Erling Haaland of Norway until this tourney. I have now adopted him (don’t tell his parents) and I can’t get enough information about him. He seems to be quite generous with the time he spends with media members, seems to have a great sense of humor and is absolutely filled with national pride.

The online content featuring him is eclectic, amusing and informative. There are videos of children mimicking his head-forward stance/walk. There’s an interview about his typical day, when he talks about his daily walk, his workout routine, the cooking he does for himself (he explains that he’s been on his own for a long time and if he didn’t cook or clean, who would do it?). There are stories about his father, Alf-Inge “Alfie” Haaland, who played on Norway’s national team from 1994-2001, and on various professional teams through 2013. I learned that Erling Haaland added “Braut,” his mother’s surname, to his World Cup jersey so both sides of his family are recognized.

I’ve also been tracking tourney scoring and know that, as of the writing of this post, Kylian Mbappé and Lionel Messi are tied for the tourney’s Golden Boot award, with eight goals each. I’ve learned that, should a goal tie exist at the end of play, the award is further determined by assists and then fewest minutes played. Mbappé is the reigning Golden Boot holder, having scored eight times in the 2022 Cup.

During the writing of this column, France eliminated Morocco in the first quarter-final game. France moves on to the semi-finals and six teams remain to duke it out in the quarters: Argentina, Belgium, England, Norway, Spain and Switzerland. 

I’ve been cheering for Norway all along for a variety of reasons, Haaland and the now famous crowd rowing display chief among them. With the U.S out, I’m officially a Viking from here on. I’ve also been cheering for England, so the Norway/England quarter-final will be a heartbreaker either way.

At the risk of being repetitive, I bring this all up to show how important events like World Cup are, even if you hate sports. Big international sporting tournaments open up the world in ways few other happenings can. Many of us believe our nation has never been at a lower point in its history, has never been so widely disrespected on the global stage and, quite frankly, many of us are depressed. We go to bed terrified and we wake up terrified, wondering what new hell our nation’s leaders have created over night.

We are being told on a daily basis how horrible we are and how horrible the rest of the world is. Everyone is mean and nasty, journalists are the enemy of the people, all Democrats are communists, media outlets (except Fox) are spouting fake news — you get the picture.

But the World Cup has reminded us of the world as it actually exists — filled with hard-working, loving, caring, enthusiastic, patriotic people who, in spite of lingual, cultural, religious and political differences, are more alike than different.

Many foreign visitors have raved about their visits to North America and have admitted that their nations lied to them. The America they witnessed was not the America their leaders told them about. I honestly think more effective diplomacy takes place in subway cars, stadium seats and on bar stools than in situation rooms and palaces.

Thinking about it, it saddens and angers me that just a handful of people can so stain the image of an entire nation. But I’m grateful that a sporting event can begin to clean up that stain simply by having real people share a meal, sit side-by-side on a bus, learn each other’s chants and trade memorabilia.

The World Cup has made the world a better place. Even if only for five weeks.