Latinx Files readers and Times staff share what the World Cup means to them. Read more on Page 2 and online at latimes.com/graciasfutbol.
From watching highlights of Pelé in 1970 on an old projector to staying up late to watch the U.S. qualify in 1990 on a Paul Caliguiri goal, my household has always made a big deal out of the World Cup. ¶ Through the years, my mom and my aunt would become the viejita version of Andres Cantor, breaking down matchups and anticipating knockout-round possibilities. No matter how old they got or what health issues would present themselves, once the World Cup rolled around they were locked in. ¶ In 2010, my aunt was in the hospital and had no access to a TV during the key game between the U.S. and Algeria. The U.S. needed to win to advance and the game was scoreless for the full 90 minutes and into extra time. ¶ My mom would call the hospital every 15 minutes and the updates involved a lot of “no, todavia no han anotado.” ¶ Then it happened. Howard’s outlet, Landon’s run, Altidore’s pass, Dempsey’s shot and then Landon’s goal. As I ran around the house celebrating the goal that would get the U.S. to the second round, I heard my mom screaming into the phone “anotó Donovan, anotó Donovan,” and then laughing and cheering with her sister in the hospital. ¶ I couldn’t help but take a moment between the joy — and, yes, tears — to see these two viejitas cheering and acting like schoolgirls thanks to a goal from Landon Donovan. And to realize that they had been sharing these joys and memories of this amazing event for longer than I have been alive. ¶ This is the first World Cup my mom won’t have her sister with her to talk about the World Cup. My aunt died in 2021. I’m glad the U.S. is back in the World Cup, but I’m most thankful I’ll have another tournament to share with my mom.
Germany 2006. My son and I had tickets to watch the U.S. play Italy in Kaiserslautern and Ghana in Nuremburg in the group stage. For a week and a half, we did nothing but eat, sleep and football. Germany was buzzing — flags everywhere, official and unofficial fanfests in every city and town. The high point for me was the Italy-USA match. The stadium was old and small and steep, and it felt as if the entire crowd was on top of the pitch. The U.S. was coming off a thorough 3-0 drubbing by the Czechs and needed a result. Italy was on its way to winning the World Cup, beating France in the Zidane head-butt match. But not on that day — it was the only match that Italy did not win in the tournament. There were three red cards — one for Italy and two for the U.S. — so Italy had one extra player for the entire second half and the score was tied at 1. Kasey Keller at goalie had a day surpassed only by Tim Howard against Belgium in 2014. A constant cheer of “Ka-sey Kel-ler” rang out while beers were thrown toward the field. I’ve been to Super Bowls, Stanley Cup games and March Madness, and I’ve never seen a crowd as torqued up — and the players responded. National pride on the line will do that. As we walked out at the end, I told my son, then 12 years old, that in a way I felt sorry for him because I was pretty sure he had seen the greatest live sporting event of his life, and he was still so young. Then I reached over to tousle his hair and found it was completely wet. Mine was, too. We had been soaked by the constant rain of beer.
— Scott Burt
One of the first fútbol moments that had a definitive impact in how I see the game was Senegal’s win over France in the 2002 World Cup. I still remember El Hadji Diouf ’s gambeta and speed, and Papa Bouba Diop’s dance after scoring what ended up being the winner. Senegal’s performance in that World Cup taught me that anything is possible on the world’s biggest stage, as the team went all the way to the quarterfinals. I just hope that one day it will be El Tri’s turn.
— Nayib Morán Rivera
Mi primera Copa del Mundo. La que me convirtió en un aficionado al futbol llegó a los 10 años en mi natal, Yucatán, México. Aún viven en mi mente los comerciales de la televisión hablando de la llegada de “Italia 90,” algo que se repetía por la radio y productos en las tiendas, aunque aún no entendía el concepto de un Mundial de futbol.
Recuerdo preguntarle a mi mejor amigo en la escuela: “¿Qué es un Mundial?” y él me respondió: “lo mejor del futbol.”
Parecía una respuesta demasiada simple, pero con los años entendí que era verdad. A diferencia de competencias de calidad como la Champions League de la UEFA o las competencias de las ligas europeas, el Mundial tiene una dosis especial de patriotismo, orgullo y sufrimiento que no se vive en otras justas.
Tenía un calendario de bolsillo que marcaba el 8 de junio de 1990 como el inicio del Mundial. Ese día le pedí a mi madre no ir a la escuela porque quería presenciar el inicio de la Copa del Mundo. Sorpresivamente, me dio permiso de faltar a clases y así viví mi primera inauguración por televisión de un Mundial.
Esa mañana vi la ceremonia de inauguración en el San Siro de Milán y cómo Camerún daba la sorpresa al doblegar a la Argentina campeona defensora de Diego Armando Maradona. Poco a poco me fui encariñando con Camerún por ser la “Cenicienta” del torneo y por jugar con pasión, liderados por el legendario capitán Roger Milla, de 38 años.
La canción de Italia 90, Un'estate italiana (Un Verano en Italia), se escuchaba todas las noches en el resumen deportivo nocturno de los canales en México. Ese verano, cuando jugaba con mis amigos en las calles de mi pueblo, imitaba ser el casi imbatible arquero italiano Walter Zenga, el oportuno artillero italiano Salvatore Schillaci, que salió de la banca para ser el goleador del torneo.
La vida y mi profesión luego me llevó a vivir otros Mundiales, pero siempre recordaré ese primero, de las “noches mágicas italianas” que no fueron las más emocionantes, pero sí el mejor para mí, porque fue el que me hizo enamorarme del juego y que al final dictaminó varios pasajes de mi vida. —Eduard Cauich, Los Angeles Times en Español sports editor