When I was growing up in England, recess meant playground soccer wars. And it was always some Cheetos-cheeked 3rd-grader named Harry or Miles or Nigel who'd kick our only ball over the fence. But while that was our only ball ball, we had plenty of backup balls.......including pencil sharpeners, cherry coke cans.....semi-sucked Ring Pops.
You see - it took almost nothing to enjoy a sport that to much of the world, meant everything. And though I wasn't from one of the many countries who claimed the World Cup as Ecstasy, I thirsted to comprehend the phenomenon.
It was that thirst that sucked* me into my first World Cup in 2006. (*#plasticstraws4eva) Since then, I've gone for refills at 3 of the past 4 World Cups. And while figuring out why the drink's so delicious is an unquenchable quest, let me give you some sips of my suspicion:
THE MAGIC OF THE WORLD CUP
1) Since most spectators are from abroad, most fans' phones don't work in the host country. So with the only reason to reach for your phone being to be the hero whose phone case replaces a lost ball, undistracted strangers unite to trade stories, defend doctrines, hug butts.....with other undistracted strangers.
(from Instagram: Mexico and Colombia fans lift a disabled Egyptian fan so he can see the screen more clearly)
2) In reality, most strangers at the World Cup don't even speak the same language. The only common language is Song and Dance, which any Spelling Bee dropout can tell you are both Romantic languages.
It reminds me of an American friend when he was living in France and dating a girl from Colombia. He said the reason their relationship worked so well was that neither spoke French well, so they only said what had to be said.
Sometimes it's words that can get in the way of expression. And because World Cuppers don't share enough words to dance around the truth, they sprint, stripped, straight to the point. And it's that stripped race that unites race.
3) It also creates a fertile landscape to dissolve "Difference Myths." I'm convinced that the main cause of a lot of social problems and pillow fights is that humans tend to overestimate their uniqueness. The truth is the tendencies of our minds are universal, but people need uniqueness to pretend they have purpose.
We're trying to sell the world on the value of our existence, while overstepping the bounds of our control.
But when you're in another state where your "control" gets electrocuted by a language fence, you're in your most vulnerable state. And when vulnerability strips your lacquered facade, everyone's remaining tootsie-pop core looks and tastes just the same.
It's why shared hardship (i.e. a vulnerable state) can coagulate a bond beyond breakability.
It's why a group of travelers can briskly bump their tier 2 friendship to a Platinum Bond rewards card.
It's at the World Cup, though, that the bond can be brewed before your breath.
In 2006, a friend and I decided to buy next-day flights to "be near" the World Cup in Germany. Some 48 hours later at our first Fan Fest, some locals overheard my friend describe how Cameron Diaz in "The Mask" caused the first of many red rover battles between his penis and his jeans.
It just so happened that the Germans were also indebted to Diaz and her movies, for helping them learn English. It also just so happened that we had lost the phone number of our host family, which meant we'd lost our way home. But our new friends, knowing that we didn't have enough money for a taxi, drove us an hour out of their way, all the way home.
The World Cup, wherever it is, always has a way of making you feel at home:
(a Moroccan fan expressing gratitude to the hospitality of the Russian people)
THE MAGIC OF RUSSIA
It also has a way of feeling like a sweaty slumber party with air electrified by high-fives.
Except, Russia actually electrified the air by hiring hundreds of people just to give high-fives on every corner. And they actually had Free Vodka as a common lunch special....which may not have been World-Cup specific as much as it was weekday-specific.
And yes, the official guidebook for tourists devoted loads of prose to uprooting a wrong impression the Russian Government thinks the rest of the world has about Russia........you know............that it's filled with bears:
(photo from World Cup Tourist Guide)
Americans assume that Russia is an elephant graveyard, covered in a grey cloud of communism. But consider that most of what you know about Russia is not about Russia, just about the Russian government. In comparison, consider how offended we'd feel if foreigners assumed all Americans thought like the US government.
The truth is that, like most places, if you get to know the people, the people are sincere. In fact, one Russian sincerely asked me, "Just the way Russians love vodka, Americans love........gay?"
I sincerely said yes.
Even their hospitality was sincere - when we asked the hostess at a crowded restaurant for a table, she said there'd be a two-hour wait. Some locals sided with our sighs and offered to squeeze us into their booth so we didn't have to wait.
That's the human side of Russia that their external relations team forgets to tweet out to the West.
But be careful about what you tweet - we had a friend who was called into private meetings with local KGB for messages sent in a Whatsapp group that were found to be "disruptive."
The one thing the government has done well is stripped its people of the lust to disrupt. When we tried to play a drinking game called "Get A Local to Talk Shit About Putin" or GALTTSAP for short), it was medium-impossible to get to GALTTSAP a sip.
But remember - the Russians, underneath that government-coated glaze, and inside those square-shaped heads, are as wonderful and cuddly a people as any communist blankie you've ever snuggled with. Deep down, their actions and your actions are just designed to make the world want to snuggle with you.
THE MAGIC OF SOCCER
It was immediately after my second World Cup in 2010 that I wanted to snuggle with soccer forever. So I immediately signed up for a volunteer program to teach soccer to toddlers in Ghana. While in reality, they taught me, the most memorable day was that first day, when Ghana beat the United States to earn their first berth to a quarterfinal.
And let me tell you that you haven't seen true joy until you've been in a third-world country who's just beaten America in A Televised Event.
The truth is that I'll never be able to truly root for a country like that, who truly needs soccer and the World Cup.
In countries where there's no running water or private places to shit, they need soccer. In homes where there are no mattresses or birth certificates, they need soccer.
And in humans who don't have citizenships or homes, they still have soccer.
In America, we don't need soccer. In fact, we think we don't need anything or anyone to survive. But if our minds are to survive, sometimes we need to shed the shimmer we want others to see, and let our similarities shine instead.
Because that is what we need - a way to unveil our common bond.