Racing Trains

Joga bonito.

See, if your knowledge of foreign languages consists of five years of high-school Latin, and the occasional Spanish at family get-togethers from my mother's siblings that grew up for a time in Puerto Rico, like mine, then you have absolutely no idea what language that is, let alone what it means.

It's OK, don't worry, I didn't either.

I didn't, but I certainly do now. (It's Portuguese and it means "play beautiful")

This year has been full of once-in-a-lifetime opportunities for me. Just look back through the blog and you'll find Puerto Rican basketball games, and the US Open, but this most recent one could be the rarest of all. I got the chance to attend the Clash of Champions at Soldier Field in Chicago Ill. which matched up the U.S. Men's National Soccer against the Brazilian Men's National team.

Seeing Brazil play is, by definition, a once-in-a-lifetime opprotunity. They are arguably the greatest team to ever play the world's game. They have a two-time FIFA Footballer of the Year in Ronaldhino and the player that many think is a lock for this year's honors in Kaka.

Naturally, my three friends and I were up for the almost 5 hour trek to Chicago for a 90 minute game. It cost us a mere $49 dollars for a ticket and another measly $22 for gas (which I have still yet to pay). For those of you who may have forgotten, $72 dollars is a large chunk of change for any 20-year-old college student. Regardless, it was money well spent.

On the way there I got us lost right outside of Chicago. I use "lost" very loosely though, because we were heading in the correct direction the entire time. I just chose the scenic route. We went through the Hyde Park area of Chicago until I found the road we were supposed to be on the whole time.

We got to the stadium at least an hour and a half early, and parked in a garage for $25. Yes, that is no typo. I think we paid a dollar for every foot under ground we parked. It was hot, sticky, and straight-up uncomfortable. If you couldn't tell, I strongly dislike/fear parking garages, but that is a story for another day.

We went straight to our seats. They were the best seats $49 could buy. We were the second row in the second section right behind the south goal. We couldn't have been any happier.

The national anthem for both countries played, and for the first time in my life I heard the crowd actually singing the national anthem of the United States. It was a spine-tingling scene as both teams warmed up and eventually took the field.

As for the game, the US actually showed up and took an early 1-0 lead off of a corner kick. The place exploded. That is to say the minority of the US fans exploded. The crowed of 43,543 was at least 51% in Brazil's favor. I guess it's to be expected. As my buddy Tim put it: "If you go to a Texas Rangers game in Arlington against the Yankees, you shouldn't be surprised to see more Yankee fans." And that is exactly what US soccer is. We are the Texas Rangers to their Brazilian Yankees. Maybe even worse.

But you wouldn't know it by the level of play in the first half of the game. Granted, Brazil imposed their will on the US and scored four goals (the fourth was an extra time PK, and
the third came on a Ronaldhino free-kick after a questionable call). The US came to play, and I was proud to see them compete with Brazil. Although the end result was 4-2, the US could find plenty positive things to hang their proverbal hats on.

The difference between the teams is two-fold. First, and most obvious, the Brazilian's are ridiculously more skilled than the Americans (and the rest of the world for that matter). The second is that the Brazilian team thinks about the game differently than the American team does.

I guess the latter comes back to the idea of "joga bonito." If the Brazilian's goal is to "play beautiful" than kudos to them, because their performance was nothing short of beautiful, and if anything, exceeded it. They see things the American's don't. They can play balls the American's can't. And, most importantly, they want to make the game beautiful and exciting, and they certainly are capable of that.

I can't do the Brazilian skill and the American's toughness and resiliancy justice, so watch this clip of highlights from the game with ESPN's Dave O'Brien and Eric Wynalda on the call.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzcwYYtbkow&feature=PlayList&p=CD8A0108B2494418&index=19

After all the excitement we got in the car and headed home.

It wasn't until the ride home that I finally realized how the US team felt. As we merged onto I-90, the Chicago L-Train was gaining on us out the left window and Tim stepped on the gas because he wanted to race the train. Us on the road and the train on its tracks. It was then when it hit me. Playing Brazil was like racing trains. You can play the best game of your life, and you still can't win. Just like us. We were gunning the Oldsmobile, and still couldn't beat that train.

The train will always be faster, and maybe Brazil will always be better.