You could see it in the seaside park in Redondo Beach, normally a haven for moms and scuba divers, but now packed with more than 1,000 seething, war-painted fans.
Or outside the gates of Disneyland, where the throng rose and put on extra-big voices to sing the national anthem.
Or at countless desks, counters and loading docks, where laptops and smart phones glowed with the signal from Arena Fonte Nova in Salvador, Brazil.
America was looking for a rare breakthrough Tuesday into the quarterfinals of soccer's World Cup, and Southern California leaned in, held its breath and stopped to take notice. From mass viewing parties to solo living-room vigils, the showdown with Belgium captivated much of the Southland for 90 minutes of regulation and 30 minutes of extra time.Even as the Americans' desperation comeback fell short, 2-1, fans celebrated both their love of soccer and of finding a common cause in a sport many of them had only realized they could like in the last two weeks.
For Josh Sanchez of Riverside, the best moment came at the beginning, when the crowd at Downtown Disney in Anaheim joined the players on the jumbo screen, hands over their hearts, singing the "Star Spangled Banner."
"You could feel something happening," said Sanchez, 18, his hair sprayed red and white, his shoulders draped in an American flag. "You're not the only one feeling it. This entire group of people standing next to you is also feeling it."
The same might have been said of the American team's entire two-week run in the world's most popular sporting event. Fans who had spent their lifetime worrying about free throws and first downs suddenly tuned in. They tried on a new language of touch lines and challenges and players who were "good in the air."
Team USA offered personalities and intrigues and fans rallied around that too. Would striker Jozy Altidore recover from a dubious hamstring (he wouldn't), would indomitable goalie Tim Howard rise to the occasion (he would) and could American grit find expression on something called a pitch (it did)?
"It's night and day from what it was four years ago," said Todd Hummer, 48, watching with his daughter, Merae, her club soccer teammates and about 20 others at a packed Claremont restaurant. "Nobody then would have known what was going on. Now I have friends saying 'I'm taking off work to see the game.' It's amazing."
No comments:
Post a Comment