World of memories of watching the soccer
When Germany won the World Cup in Brazil four years ago I was at home in Ireland and in the middle of a difficult summer due to family illness. And so, although I have loved watching the World Cup ever since I was a child, the 2014 tournament is all a bit of a blur.
Go back another four years, however, and you’ll find that I was glued to the coverage. That was the year it was hosted by South Africa. The year when we all added another word to our vocabulary – vuvuzelas – when they became the ‘musical’ accompaniment to that year’s competition. I also watched a fair bit of that 2010 World Cup in Italy, the same country where I watched a chunk of the 2002 competition – the one where Roy Keane threw his toys out of the pram in Saipan and headed for home.
I love watching the World Cup – or any summer international soccer competition when I’m abroad. Italy is a brilliant location, of course, because the locals are all so mad into soccer. But irrespective of where you find yourself, it’s great to just pitch up to a bar and take a seat among the locals and tourists alike. Myriad countries are always represented and the atmosphere is usually fantastic. Lack of each other’s language is never any impediment to discussion and it’s just great fun.
In Italy in 2010 we were staying in a small village a short distance from Sorrento and the craic was terrific at one of the local bars whenever a match was on. What is always really noticeable in Italy in that kind of setting is the fact that very few of the young men gathered to watch the match are drinking alcohol. Soft drinks, coffees and even ice-creams far outweigh the evidence of bottles of beer or glasses of wine.
The lack of alcohol certainly doesn’t dampen their passion for the beautiful game, however. They shout at the screen, jump up and down from their seats, shake their fists and generally make a great – and hugely entertaining – spectacle of themselves. And that applies to young and old alike.
I’d love to have been watching in Italy for the 2006 final when, in the Olympiastadion in Berlin, there was all kinds of drama (including France’s Zinedine Zidane being sent off) before Italy finally beat France 5-3 on penalties. I wasn’t in Italy, though, I was in Croatia that year, staying in Cavtat, a pretty little town not far from Dubrovnik. We had actually just arrived the evening of the final, with my teenage son and his friend almost beside themselves that they wouldn’t make it from the airport to the hotel in time for the kick-off. It was a close-run thing alright but we made it into the bar in Hotel Croatia with just minutes to spare before the kick-off. The 2018 extravaganza gets underway in Russia on Thursday and two days later I’ll be in Crete for my usual summer sojourn in Paleochora. I don’t arrive until late on the Saturday, so it will be the Sunday before I wander along to Yanni’s bar and get myself a good outdoor seat for the Costa Rica/Serbia match, followed a few hours later by Germany/Mexico.
I watched the ‘Euros’ here a couple of years ago and the atmosphere was fantastic. I don’t know if there will be many Costa Ricans or Mexicans in Paleochora next weekend but there will probably be Serbians and there will certainly be Germans aplenty.
Nico, Yanni’s son is a perfectionist. With his sister Joanna, Nico runs the bar these days while Yanni takes it a bit easier in his retirement, pottering around the town on foot, or driving slowly around on his beloved motorbike.
Nico spends ages setting up the television outside the bar, so we can all see the screen from our various vantage points. He moves it this way and that, tilting the screen, adjusting the angle, until he is happy that it is just right.
With neither Ireland nor Greece participating this time (nor, unbelievably, Italy) it’s a hard call when it comes to nailing my colours to the mast. I think, though, that those colours, one way or another, will be red. Spain or Egypt? I still haven’t decided but as a lifelong Liverpool supporter, Mo Salah is certainly tipping me in the direction of the Pharaohs. Let the games begin...