In previous entries I have describe games as beer storms filled with loud hooligans who’s passion out weighs sensibility. Obviously watching the game in the middle of the commotion is entertaining and exciting but on the other hand my clothes still smell like Budweiser and Kimmie has a reoccurring nightmare that she is being followed by three men in eagle suits singing “when the ‘yanks’ coming marching in.”
After talking to an old family friend we were given tickets to the Portugal verse Korea DPR match. We had no clue where our seats were but we were thrilled to be given the chance to watch another World Cup Match, and how can you pass up Portugal tickets? Our only instructions were to arrive at the hotel before the match to be bused over to the stadium. (previousely we had to go to a designated parking lot in order to be bused in-standing room only). When our coach bus arrived I was impressed, and relieved since it had been raining all day and it was quite cold. Arriving at the stadium we realized our tickets had “VIP” printed on them. Intrigued I asked the security guard “where are our seats?” She looked at me then at the tickets than back at me and said in her smooth South African accent “Sir you need to check downstairs then go up in the elevator.” Check in? I already was in the stadium what could I possibly need to check in for?
Hearing the opening whistle I quickly ran down stairs to “check in” where I was given a wristband and told to walk through a huge metal detector. Where was I? Everything was marble and granite, and the men and women were in full dress attire. No spending time to ponder my unusual situation I ran to the elevator took it up to the 4th floor and when those glass doors drifted open. I saw a seen I had only dreamed about. In front of me lay a bountiful buffet filled with local favorites and old classics. Followed by a dessert table and an open bar that almost brought me to tears. But before I could dive into the treats there was a game to be played.
Asking the usher for the location of my seat, I was directed past the red carpet(yes I am still in a stadium at a football match) to a leather upholstered chair. as the game progressed everything appeared to be the same, the fans cheered at close shots, and boo’d at poor calls. They even got up and partied for the first Portugal goal (minus the beer shower). At the end of the first half our privileged group escaped the rain to the warm restaurant, mingling, eating, and drinking to our heart’s desire.
Several minutes later the second half began and fans filed out of the restaurant back to our cozy seats. That is when I noticed a familiar looking gentlemen sitting a couple row in front of us. O yes that was the president of Portugal and several of his delegates, you know just another game in the park. Next to the stately looking man were the representatives from Korea DPR(they left early, I don’t blame them). I was sitting with heads of state in my jeans and soccer coat. Nevertheless the match continued as Portugal racked up the score to a final of 7-0.
At this point I was completely satisfied with my day at the stadium but it wasn’t over. After exiting, aka walking underneath Green Point to the bus to return us to the hotel, the North Korean team drove past waving( I don’t think they were too phased by the loss). The day in the life of a FIFA big shot was amazing and it ended with a soccer ball shaped coke and lopsided match report. The only bad part of the whole experience is tomorrow at USA verse Algeria I am back to the beer storm.
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