Man bun

It’s hard to believe the whirlwind the FIFA World Cup has stirred around here and even harder to believe I care about it. Surely you agree that this global event, much of it on Canadian soil, has been a fun distraction from the realities of the world.

Well, that is until the American president interfered with players’ rules and the president of FIFA allowed it. Where’s the red card on that decision? Oof. 

For all that drama, I didn’t think soccer could ever bring me close to tears, until I heard of the loss suffered by Netherlands forward Cody Gakpo and his partner Noa van der Bij, who suffered a miscarriage. This is a loss we can all comprehend. Gakpo decided to remain to compete with his team. I watched the footage of his goal in the 72nd minute of the round of 32 match against Morocco, just two days after the news of his family’s loss. 

He scored a goal then fell to his knees, overwhelmed by emotion, pointing to the sky in a prayer, as his teammates surrounded him in a giant pile-on of support. An authentic reminder that even in the fiercest competition, we’re all connected by our humanity.

They call soccer the “beautiful game,” and I see the grace in it. Incredible athleticism. The talent is impressive. I can’t get over the amount of constant running these guys do on a pitch that is ginormous. And punting balls off their heads like it’s no big deal is insane. That action makes for some crazy plays. 

This is why I wanted to love the game. All those svelte soccer players, fit and fast, makes NFL football look, well, less fast. Stop. Start. Stop. You know what I mean. What can I say? I still prefer a sport where tackles and hard hits are part of the play. I guess I like my sports ugly. I’m good with that.

While soccer isn’t for me, I’ve seriously enjoyed watching soccer fans lose their minds in the excitement, travelling great distances, having the time of their lives in the spirit of the ultimate fandom. They cried when they won, cried when they lost, celebrated either way. I guess this means I’m a fan of soccer fans. 

My spouse, the Carpenter, is cheering for England and at the time I write this, they are still in the running. But you know I can’t cheer for his team, on principle. So when England faced Norway in the quarterfinal, I jumped on that Norwegian bandwagon, er, Viking ship, and got to rowing on the couch. 

I threw in the “ro” fan chant for good measure. Then I started reading aloud facts about Erling Braut Haaland, the unofficial star of the team, who has become a media darling. The Carpenter didn’t find me nearly as amusing as I found myself, which is a pity really, because that only spurs me on. 

Also, because the Carpenter is consciously balding, I suggested he try growing out a nice man bun, just like Erling. What? It might be a good look. Sexy Viking ancestor. Sigh.

England won, but if you were in my living room for that match, you’d know I won too. Me and my Beautiful ‘mind’ Games.

FIFA will come to an end on Sunday. I’ll be applying for my passport and starting a bank account for a trip to Norway, because I want to party with those fans. I may actually have to row. So be it.