Lookout Landing

As a fan of any big important international competition I have been following the World Cup religiously these past few weeks. Almost literally as adjusting to a schedule centered around few sleeping hours per night and 4am wake ups feels very monastic. However, when I think back years from now and the sufferings that go along with such tiredness have been forgotten, I will recall with nostalgia the pre-dawn mornings the way I recently had a pang about studying for finals in college. Brains are stupid that way.

Unlike with my recent Olympic experience, and perhaps in part because of it, I had no waffling over rooting interests coming into this Cup. I was rooting for US wins first, England losses second, and then some other random events a distant third. Draws like the one setting up US vs. England on a prime Saturday slot made the conspiracy theory seem plausible until you consider the other two game times for the US.

No matter, I was present for all three, first at Neumos with about 600 other fans who though certainly passionate didn't seem worried enough to bother showing up much ahead of the match which left my 6am wakeup and arrival pretty fruitless. Sort of the opposite of the Olympic Hockey final. I was at Doyle's in Tacoma for the Slovenian game, arriving on a full one hour of sleep and powered by four cups of coffee, which I never drink and thus had a profound effect on my tweaking level. The first two draws were each memorable in their own ways and both ended with more luck on our side than people seem to realize.

I am not interested in writing a review of the USA-Algeria game from a focus on the actual participants. What interested me after the fact was my own emotional roller coaster. Me and some untold amount of people were huddled together watching the game as it went through its agony and delight and frustration. When reaching back to summarize my experience that morning, it would be easy to say that Donovan scoring perhaps the most important goal in US Soccer history made it all worth it. That is certainly what I would have originally expected. However, my feelings after the game lead me to think otherwise now.

After the initial surge of joy from the goal wore off around 30 minutes after the final whistle, I found myself remarking how it would have been really perfect, from my perspective, if Slovenia had drawn with England and knocked them out. Don't get me wrong, I was still pleased with the day. I was just already moving on, musing about how it could have been different and what was up next.

I know I'm different, faster to return to equilibrium than most others I have encountered. But still, we all return to normalcy eventually. A championship by a team that we root for is not going to fundamentally change anything about you. That may sound distressing. What's the point of it all then? What's the point of enduring all this sadness if in the end the pay off is so short?

It's in the process. It's in the rooting. The experience. The shared bonds. 2001 didn't end how it should have, but nobody can take away what those 116 wins felt like. And what sticks out about them to me are the shared qualities. The random conversations I would have all season long with strangers, standing in line at the grocery store or wherever, marveling over another win. I remember how incredulous everybody seemed. How we took winning almost for granted and then every time it approached that point, we would suddenly gain perspective and appreciate it all over again.

Jeff touched on it with his four-part Mariners win the World Series posts back in 2009 and while many thought the conclusion was depressing, I think it's spot on. What makes the enduring worth it is the experience. The US team is out now, victims again at the feet of Ghana. I am sad that is over, but those four games gave me a memory I will always hold and people, even strangers, with whom I can always share it with. 

Once you finally reach the destination then it's the journey that becomes meaningful, that becomes remembered. In the meantime, the pursuit of the goal sustains most of us and sharing in that trek allows me to find humor in the lows and more joy in the highs. The destination, once reached, can be reached again, but the path will never be the same. You have to enjoy it for what it is.