Category: CO soccer trips

Why the January Friendly is so important

LA tailgate. In the sun. In Jan. Rough life.

4. It started with four, four years ago. 4 guys driving down to LA from San Luis Obispo on a cloudy January day in 2008 to watch some American soccer. 2007 was a good year to be on the West Coast, there was a full first team friendly against China in San Jose (the last full first team friendly on the West Coast? I think so) before the Gold Cup and a Gold Cup group stage match at the HDC. 2008 was a new year, and we were off to support the US. I remember the weather sucking and us watching Donovan score a PK directly in front of US. We drove home that night after yelling a lot and me enjoying the game but being disappointed that we were some of the only fans standing and cheering the entire time. The following year our group more then doubled to ten to see Sacha bag a hattie and us to yell SASSSSCCCHHHHAAAAAAAAAA all night. We got there earlier, brought food and drinks and knocked the ball around in the parking lot. Some other American fans forgot their ball and asked if they could join us, we said certainly. We shotgunned beers with them as an exchange of goodwill and American soccer. What is better then that?

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45 Minutes in Cape Town

How do you define your team’s World Cup and your support for them? In my case, it was 45 minutes in Cape Town.

Let me paint you a picture. One you likely remember clearly, with simple thoughts. Most of them include swear words. Mine certainly did. After a promising draw against England where Altidore scuffed the post and sent my heart on a path it likely will never recover from, team USA looked to have steam behind them as they faced Slovenia. We were in Cape Town for the England-Algeria game, one that I will never forget thanks to the fact it was so boring a bird roosted on the goal for the entire second half undisturbed. Strike and I got decked out and we headed to the fan zone in Cape Town to find lots of our brethren ready to cheer on our boys. A pleasant surprise to say the least. A day full of anticipation and wonder was off to a marvelous start as we approached kick off with nice weather and lots of USSSSSSAAAAAAAA chants. Quickly that day turned into a nightmare. If the Brazil – USA Confederations Cup first half felt like I was walking in a dream, this was the utter and total opposite. I was stranded in a nightmare that I could not believe was real.

By halftime, I was near tears. Completely frustrated and helpless. It’s not often that you see everything you have dreamed of slipping away right in front of your eyes. I remember just getting down on my knees and praying. Desperately. That my team, the guys who had come inches from locking up the driver seat only days before were suddenly inches from boarding a flight home after a meaningless game against Algeria. Everything I believed in was being pushed to the brink. Could I deal with heartbreak in two consecutive summers? Where would I find Flamin Hot Cheetos and Entourage seasons one through three to console me like I had for two straight days after the US-Mexico game at Azteca? How would I get past this one? These thoughts were blazing through my head like heat searing my soul. I was clinging to a thread of hope, a desperate string that a team that looked utterly worthless in the first half could deliver a miracle on the world’s biggest stage. I had turned down Chamo’s offer to buy me a very large beer because I knew if the score stood I would quickly become irrational and alcohol would not help that cause in the least. And then 45 minutes began.

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The Darker Side of the Greatest Event on Earth

When you were a kid, did your parents ever have company? Mine did, and my mom was always so insistent on the house being spotless for them. I never understood it. Why is the goal when you bring other people around to make your house looks like no one lives there? So generally I would clean for about five minutes, wait until she walked out of the room to deal with something else, then shovel my mess under my bed. Efficient, effective, and over. I still don’t understand it to this day. In South Africa this summer I got a flashback of my own experience doing that. It was if South Africa decided they didn’t want the world to see their mess, so they shoveled it under their bed. Yet one of the moments that is most vivid in my mind still brings me back to the spot where I saw a glimpse of South Africa’s mess.

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Statistics and Best-Of for CO’s Trip to South Africa

We were in South Africa for two weeks, plus had a good four days of flights to get to and from, so naturally there are some interesting statistics that go along with our trip. Some are very basic, some a bit funny, and some just plain stupid, but I hope you enjoy the list.

Hours Spent Flying to South Africa (average): 35 hours (including layovers)

Hours Spent Flying back from South Africa (average): 23 hours (including layovers)

Matches Attended: 5

Stadiums Visited: 3 (Green Point in Cape Town, Moses Mabhida in Durban, and the one in Pretoria)

Flights Taken Inside of South Africa: 9

Flights Paid for Inside of South Africa: 8

Planes Seemingly Constructed as a Steel Tube of Death: 1 (thanks British Airways/Comair)

Hours Spent Inside of Airports: 30

Nights Slept Inside of Airports: 1

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Days 11, 12, and 13

After three rough days of traveling, walking, watching and cheering, as well as being reduced to a two-man team after Striker left us, Biggy and I went into relaxation mode. Day 11 started by sleeping in, till about noon, given the blatant lack of sleep we had accumulated recently. We had decided the night before that we would explore the little town of Fish Hoek that Fifa had so elegantly placed us in. Our hotel was conveniently placed about a block away from the beach, so we strolled towards it in search of some seaward views. Unfortunately, the weather decided this was not the day for sights and the entire coast line was fogged in.

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The Three Day Extravaganza (Days 8, 9, and 10)

Nice field, best stadium, gorgeous.

WARNING: If you are in any way related to Biggy, Chamo, or Striker, you may not want to read this post, if you still insist on reading, try to skip the part JUST after the USA-Algeria game. Should you read it, know we are alive and well, in good spirits, and laughing about the situation now (kind of). That said, this post covers three intense days, in three different cities, where we witnessed three entirely different matches, therefore it will be a rather long read. We hope you enjoy (especially if you don’t have any emotional stake in our well being).

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Days 6 and 7

Table Mountain, before we conquered the beast

So I mentioned in my last post that our plan to climb Table Mountain had been foiled by some cloud cover, but after researching the weather the morning of our 6th day we found that we had prime mountain climbing conditions. We had earlier been informed that it took a good four hours to conquer, which we thought was rubbish, and turned out to be, though our cabbie (who we never really liked anyway) was convinced we were insane for wanting to walk up. There is a gondola/cable car that takes you to the top in only four minutes, but to counter the beer consumed thus far on the trip, we felt a good hike was in order.

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Days 4 and 5

Cape Town was very welcoming

Didn’t post last night due to my dismay after the England result, and I’ll preface this post by stating I will not be delving into the details of that game. That is mainly due to a lack of details to even mention, the game was awful, it was a terrible showing by the Three Lions, and just like every World Cup I have been alive for, they are failing to meet any expectations. That said, I managed to wiggle my way into the 8th row of the expensive seats right behind the bench for the second half (due to Striker’s CAT 1 ticket he bought, more on that later) which was a treat, in the sense that its as close as I’ll get to most of my heroes, probably ever. That, unfortunately, was the highlight of the match.

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Days 2 and 3

It is a sight from all angles

Biggy reported on the Spain v Switzerland match that we attended yesterday, so I won’t go into reporting further about that wonderful match we were present at, thus I will consolidate days two and three into one wonderful post. The weather in Durban was gorgeous yesterday, so we spent most of our time down by the beach, walking between the fan zone and the casino that lead to the gateway to Moses Mabida Stadium. I have to say, the stadium they constructed in Durban is nothing short of spectacular, something that you must see if you ever go to South Africa.

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Day One*

Yes, finally both here!

Well not really day one, Chamo was here a full day before Biggy got in, but used that day to catch up on sleep, accumulating 16 hours and waking up again at 6 AM this morning. Today was the first day that we both finally made it to Durban, South Africa, though it took Biggy some time to find our wonderful little hotel, since the cab driver had no idea where it was. Apparently, Durban decided to change a majority of its street names in the run up to the World Cup, leaving cabbies invariably flustered. Finally, after we both managed more than 32 hours of traveling the past few days, we were reunited at the Road Lodge in Durban.

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