I Know What I Know

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Rich at the bar is a big guy, both fat and wide and tall, the kind of guy a football coach gets really excited about. He has scars on his neck from when he broke it in a forklift accident. He likes NASCAR. A lot. Every time he’s on shift, there the cars are, driving around, turning to the left. Rich would have all seven televisions on the race, if he could get away from it. Most of the time, it’s NASCAR, golf, and football.

NASCAR always gets the big TV in the middle of the bar, though.

Last summer, I decided that I wanted to watch the World Cup in the company of other people, so I went down to the bar to watch US’s match against England at noon. When I asked Rich to put the game on, he was appalled, and only changed the channel if he could bitch and moan about it. He made fun of us and the players and all of soccer for the rest of the match.

When I asked him to put the sound on, you’d have thought I had asked him to fly to the moon. He explained that the rules are that the music has to be on. I told him that I’d been in there when the TV sound was on. I told him that there were only 5 people in the place, anyway, and that most of us wanted to watch the game.

He grudgingly put on the sound. We responded to assaulting him with our vuvuzela apps on our iPods. As the game moved on, people trickled in (including some Brits!), and at one point I went up to Rich and said “Hey, have you noticed that everyone in this bar is completely glued to the game? The whole bar is cheering for the national team. Except the Brits. When you have NASCAR on, people just ignore it.”

He admitted that I was right and that this was kind of cool.

We spent the month of the World Cup watching every US game at the bar, and Rich got to where he knew the schedule and would have the TV on and the sound up for us. I assured him that once the US got knocked out of the tournament, we wouldn’t bother him anymore.


Sunday, we went into the bar to have a couple of beers and eat their wonderful pizza. When he saw us, Rich came over and started asking us about the women’s match against Brazil. He had watched the whole thing and thought it was amazing.

He also seems to have a bit of a crush on Hope Solo–but so does half of America, it seems. They don’t seem to recognize the genius that is Megan Rapinoe, but that’s another post.


Tonight, I went to the bar to pick up the keys to our friend Cory’s cabin. Tomorrow, Shelley and I are going up on the mountain to get off the grid for a couple of days. When I walked in, Rich was there, sitting at the end of the bar. His back was turned slightly, and so I slapped him on the back and said “Did you watch?”

“Yup! The whole thing! Good game! I told Cory to tell you that I’d have the final on for you Sunday at noon!”

“Fantastic game,” I said. “But, you know, we’ve played France 12 times and have never lost.”

What he said next made me think that it’s possible the World Cup has created another soccer fan. He said “Yeah, and we play Japan on Sunday, and our record against them is 22-0-3.”

Next, I’ll see if I can get him to pay attention to RSL matches.


Written by srogers

July 14, 2011 at 4:47 am

Posted in World Cup

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