Ah, Hell. Let's grab a beer.

   This is a blog about my experiences in Brazil for the 2014 World Cup.  As I'm writing this, my days here in Brazil are coming to a close.  Although I’m ready to get back to Seattle to see my family, friends, girlfriend and get back to work, I’m going to leave Brazil with so many different valuable things. Memories, a newfound appreciation and love for the Brazilian culture and people, as well as an ever increasing pride for my home, the United States of America, and their National Men’s soccer team especially after a spirited knockout stage performance on Tuesday. 

   The final whistle vs. Belgium had gone.  Another stressful day at the office.  This time accompanied by feelings of despondence rather than jubilation.  Sad? Yep. Upset? You bet. Speechless? Of course. I continually juggled in my mind what could have been if this or that, how it could have been, whatever. As Bennett, Ben, Ari and I dejectedly walked away from the 2-1 defeat, our heavy heads tried to concentrate on our feet kicking up the imaginary dust on the clean concrete sidewalk.  We had set on returning to the house instead of staying out so we could kick this sore throat that had hit us all. Before we could hail a taxi, we heard some guys about 50 yards away yelling at us.  “USA!! What a great game, guys! We love America!”  A quick hand in the air and a wave of acknowledgement to shut them up would be sufficient.  “Come have a beer with us, guys!  Come on, it’s on us!”  We walked on in our haze of disbelief, our sour moods keeping our lethargic pace.  One more shout came, and I gave a half roll of the eyes as I said to the guys “Ah, Hell, let’s grab a beer.”

   We turned around and joined a group of 7-8 guys ranging from about 35-55, all hanging around a taco truck-like structure with Heinekens in hand.  We feinted smiles as we entered the area and noticed all of their faces lit with excitement and encouragement.  Maybe beer, as well.  I first shook the hand of Carlos, a short, bald, overweight Brazilian, who ordered us four Heinekens.  He had the biggest, and admittedly the dumbest-looking grin out of the lot.  I couldn't stop my fake smile from turning sincere before I even said a word.  The Rev. Al Sharpton-look-alike behind the counter pulled the beers out of the fridge and wrapped the twist-off tops with a napkin to help the grip.  Nursing my way through the Heineken, I wasn't in a mood to drink, and already had more than I should have while recovering from a cold.  Every gulp stabbed my throat, and I was out of cough drops. 

   We finished the first beer with a lack of conviction.  I don’t really recall exactly what we talked about at first – futbol in Brazil, in the States, American Football, Seattle, a couple stories on all sides, I don’t know, and it doesn't quite matter.  My smile indicated my response to the offer at a second beer, still a bit dejected but in much higher spirits than the first.  By this point we were very comfortable talking, joking and sharing stories with the guys. My mind wondered in and out of the Belgium game, but it was far from hogging my thoughts like it was 20 minutes prior.  Instead, my mood was being set by our new acquaintances - a group of bankers that work together down the street.  Carlos has been many of their “English teacher” for a few years.  What started with teaching his co-workers a few words here and there turned into four or five guys becoming very competent in the English language.  This story stuck out to us, no question.  It was far from the best story they were to tell all night.

   As I sat down and opened another beer, we posed for a picture for one of the guys that didn't speak any English.  We were told he was sending the picture to his friend living in the states.  Tiago(pronounced chee-ah-go in this part of the country), who spoke the best English due to living in Australia for nine years, sat across from us and offered to tell the story about how this “piece of shit beer stand” came about.  I always love a good story, and as it appeared, he liked telling them.

   The guy behind the counter, we’ll call him Al(I'm associating him to Al Sharpton's heavier years), was homeless five years ago.  One day, he rode his motorbike with a cooler full of beer strapped to the back to the busy street corner just outside of downtown, put the cooler on the ground and started selling for $4 Reis(about $2 American).  The group got off work together that day and said “Ah, Hell, let’s grab a beer”. 

   The bankers walked up and got a beer. Then another, then another, and another.  Al was wiped clean on his first day of his new job.  Day 2, he brought 2 coolers.  The bankers wiped him out again.  Day 3, 4 and 5 went by, Al had a new means of a modest income, and the guys had a new post-work hangout.  The motorbike with limited capacity turned into a beat-up compact car that held much more.  Al, who was living out of this car, kept providing the beer, and the bankers kept drinking. 

   Soon enough, Al saved enough money to buy a hot dog stand.  “The hot dogs were shit, but we just came to drink”, I was told from Tiago and his Australian accent.  The hot dog later stand turned into a little hut and a barbecue.  Al generally gave away his food to most people, as long as they kept buying beer.  A year or two went by and Al, no longer homeless, had added to his hut by installing an overhang, table and chairs, and even built a bathroom on the side(I didn't try it out).  Someone from the group donated a TV and the place was as good as home.  Today, he sells barbecued and fried food, non-perishable snacks like chips and candy.  Oh and I guess alcohol as well.  Al is living the American dream.  An idea combined with hard work, struggle, grit, determination and a little bit of luck brought him from living on the streets to running his own successful and sustainable business.  I had Tiago translate to him that I love his story, it’s wonderful to hear his success, and it’s the perfect example of the American Dream.  My words to him seemed to mean as much as his story did to me(as did the $20 Reis tip).

 We left the street corner all smiles – energetic, happy, and very thankful for that small phrase.  One that turned Al's life, turned our moods, and one that continues to bring these bankers together year after year, evening after evening, beer after beer.

“Ah Hell, let’s grab a beer.”

Tiago bottom, Al to his right, Carlos above to Tiago's left

David's favorite 11 players in the final 8

A little late as two teams are already eliminated, but here-goes.  Notice I said favorite - not necessarily best.  The World Cup is a great time for young up and comers to shine, so this list is a bit biased towards young players.

Goalkeeper:  

Manuel Neuer - Germany.  Great with his feet, so valuable coming off his line so Germany can press high, great in the air, very good shot stopper as well.   Timmy Howard would be here if USA had squeaked through.

Defenders:  
David Luiz - Brazil CB.  Great tackler, very smart picking off passes and tracking runners, a confident distributor, can dribble like a midfielder, great in the air and a master with set pieces from distance.  Can play holding CM if needed, but I don't think we'll see that as Tiago Silva is out vs. Germany and I predict Germany 3-1 Brazil in the Semis.

Patrice Evra - France RB. Invaluable as a 1v1 defender, great distributor, his experience is huge for any world cup team.  In my opinion he's a very underrated player in the EPL as well.

Pablo Zabaleta - Argentina Wing back.  Remember I said favorite, not best.  Perhaps the most dynamic defender out of the last 8.  He gets caught too high and lost defensively a bit, but a hard-nosed workhorse, fantastic going forward and a menace to any Argentinian opponent's left side.

Midfielders:
Paul Pogba - France DCM.  Possibly my favorite player in the cup.  A young star that ran the field while France was still in it.  Fantastic possessing on the ball, great distributor, great break-up player as a lone DCM in France's 4-3-3.

James Rodriguez - Columbia ACM.  An absolute firecracker that can score from anywhere.  Scored 6 goals before he lost just a few minutes ago.  Turns 23 next Saturday, and will likely be pushing for Miroslav Klose's 15 World Cup career goals record.

Nigel De Jong - Netherlands DCM.  Invaluable to Netherlands, and it showed vs. Mexico once he went out early in the game.  His positioning is second to nobody(less maybe Pirlo).  I love his physical defensive style of play. He's great in possession and competent on the ball - he might not beat many people 1v1, but he doesn't need to, just break pressure and possess.

Neymar - Brazil ACM.  Best I've ever seen running with the ball(sprinting with the ball, really).  His skill and versatility speaks for itself, and he's excelled in the spotlight of the host fans with the highest expectations.

Forwards:
Arjen Robben - Netherlands.  Love him or hate him for his embellishment, the guy can play.  He can absolutely take over a game, like he did vs. Mexico and Spain.  Speed, ball control, unpredictable, great distributor in the final third, and a fantastic finisher.

Joel Campbell - Costa Rica.  Can play out wide or up top as an out-and-out striker.  The Arsenal man(loaned to Olympiacos) is fantastic holding the ball up, fast, skilled, and powerful.  The young stud will be a forced difficult to contain in the next couple years.  It will be very interesting seeing him vs. Netherlands tomorrow.

Thomas Muller - 4 goals in the tournament thus far, but wasn't very impressive vs. Algeria.  Muller is a typical german Goal Scorer.  Fast, powerful, but most importantly is smart in front of the goal and can finish in dangerous spots.  He's a player that not only will score himself, but get assists and create goal scoring chances for his teammates.


Honorable mentions:
-Hugo Lloris - France Goalkeeper.  All-around quality goalkeeper.  I don't like him cause he's a Spur, so I couldn't possibly put him in the top.
-Phillip Lahm - Germany Defender.  Can play left or right, and also played great vs. Algeria as a holding midfielder.  The German captain's leadership, experience, services into the box, 1v1 defending and versatility is unmatched.  He should take Zabaleta's place, honestly, but I'll stick to it for no good reason.
-Angel Di Maria - Argentina Winger(not sure to put him with mids or forwards).  The man can play.  He can play left or right, but mainly will play on the left.  Fast, great crosser, great finisher. Cuts inside well.
-Fernandinho - Brazil Holding Midfielder.  Had to win the starting role from a disappointing Paulinho, but after he did has never looked back.  Very good on the ball, works his tail off for 90 minutes, great distributor and great at breaking up plays in the midfield on a underwhelming Brazilian side.
-Rafael Varane - France Center Back.  the 20-year old is a regular starter at Real Madrid, as well as the #1 choice CB for France.  Wise well beyond his years and will be one of the all-time greats if he keeps it up.
-Javier Mascherano - Argentina Holding CM.  The Barcelona CB has shown his versatility playing as a lone CM in Argentina's 3-5-2 with wing-backs.  He has a ton of space to manage and is the only player on the Argentine 23 that can do that job.
-Lionel Messi.  Enough said.
-Luis Suarez.  Just kidding.

Locals vs. Gringos

One big thing we really wanted to do in Brazil was play some futbol with the locals.  Futsal, Beach soccer, even on a dirt or grass pitch.  We just wanted to play.  It was 2 weeks in before we finally got the chance, and how sweet it was.

We got to the beach around 11 and met up with Kyle and his group.  They had just finished kicking the ball around with some kids, so we spent an couple hours just sitting around on the beach.  After they went to lunch, Bennett and I walked the beach until we found a game.  The sand was shin-deep, the players weren't great, and the hog in the Germany jersey on our team didn't know the concept of passing or teamwork.  A little unsatisfying, but still fun.  Bennett and I were clearly the best players, so we moved on after 20 minutes.

We met up again with Kyle and his group after they finished lunch.  We sat down at a huge futsal area with 4 courts in a quadrant followed by courts and fields as far as the eye could see up the street. Every court was filled with 5v5 plus at least 10 people on each sideline, either waiting to play or just watching. The best game was front and center.  These boys could play.  This is where we wanted to be.  At first it was fun just watching them.  We didn't think we were going to be able to get on the court as it was only locals.  Nobody was wearing shoes.  Teams were just understood or figured out - no shirts v skins or lights v darks. Rules were very lax, and a little shirt grab, hack to the ankles or high elbow was fairly common. Not really understanding the atmosphere or the players at the time, I thought a fight would break out on a couple of occasions.  They were arguing, a couple pushes and aggressive finger-pointing, but nothing malicious...  To their standards.

We gathered our team, laced up our shoes(I was barefoot), got in position to be in line to play, and we waited.  We waited with the sun on our backs.  We waited as the sun started going down.  We waited as the sky turned from light blue to yellow to light orange.  Finally the final goal went in on the game before us, and we walked onto the cement court.  Winners start with the ball.  Game time.

"Gringooos!"  We were well used to being called that.  Hell, I kinda liked it.  The game kicked off and it was of pace and quality - two or three of their players were very skilled - great control, quick little buggers, could put it on frame from anywhere and were smart defensively. Notice all the sole of the foot everyone used.  We gave up the first goal after a minute or two.  After waiting this long, we weren't going to go out that fast.   It seemed to take us a couple minutes to really figure out the game, but we started getting 2 people wide once I got the ball, having 3 options to move the ball quickly.  See James facing towards me wide left.

Bennett(White shirt) took over the game with a sweet bit of dribbling before punching a ball into Kyle(long blonde hair with red shoes) who did a moving cruyff-flick to slot it back post to tie it up. We quickly took the upper hand and won 3-1.  Here's a content Bennett after the first goal

We lost the second game 3-2 by giving up goals from a mix-up that gave them a tap-in, then a deflected own goal.  The sky had changed to red by this point and it was time to move on.  A beautiful evening - my favorite picture below.

Out of all the cool stuff we've done, this really ranks up there as one of my top single memories of the trip.  It was rugged, scrappy, a little unexpected and a heck of a game.  We got to play in a few more games after that, which were all a lot of fun, no question.  These games, in Brasilia, the much wealthier national capital, were much cleaner than the game in the poverty-ridden Recife.

The Red, The White and The Flood

The following is a description of the events that occurred on Thursday, June 26.

   I woke up with butterflies in my stomach around 8:30.  We didn't get to sleep until 2am as our friends Raquel, Joel, Zach and Scott came in at midnight and we stayed up chatting and watching condensed match replays of games we've seen twice already.   Iara and Isabella, our hosts, came to the apartment every morning to cook us breakfast.  An absolute feast.  grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, eggs, fruit, coffee, juice... more than we can possibly handle.  Neither one of them speaks more than a handful of words in English, so communicating is very difficult.  Thank God for Google Translate.  We got out of the apartment at around 10:30 after trying to communicate with Iara to figure out the best route.  She took Zach and Scott to the taxi station before looping back to pick us up.

   We got to the main road and had to go rather slowly, there was 3-4 inches of brown water streaming down the street. After backtracking to get on the main road, we finally turned left onto the street next to the beach and drive north for a couple slow kilometers.  We had to pick up the tickets, so turned left on a very busy road.  It wasn't promising.  Cars packed in the street.  Motorbikes with half of their wheels submerged spraying excess water onto our windshield.  We got back on track after picking up the tickets at a hotel, crawling only a car length or two every minute.  Finally a group of kids splashed their way through the middle of the traffic to yell and signal to Iara not to drive past the next block, as the flooding was too severe for her car to handle.  What a fun day for these kids – no shirts, obviously with good intentions, just having fun together directing traffic during the heaviest rainstorm in Recife in years. There was over 3 inches of rain reported that morning before 9am.

   The back streets would actually end up being better anyway. Until we hit the next main street.  This is where it got even more interesting.  Hitting more traffic, we were able to cut through to get onto a street that would take us close to the train station.  We turn right and look in front of us to find the street we want to be on – no cars on the road.  That would have been very exciting, the only problem is that the road was also flooded, over a foot deep.  Another group of 4-5 kids fumbled into the screen, this time teaming together to push another compact car through the river to the next street. They succeeded in getting the car to the other side of the road, smiles from ear to ear.  A quick wave and it was off to the next struggling driver.  Bennett, Raquel, Joel and I couldn’t believe our eyes.  We ended up cutting through a gas station and stop to contemplate entering the river.  Joel suggested the sidewalk.  So that happened.  Barely getting off the sidewalk back onto the safe street, we were finally near the train station.

   We ran up the train and were well on our way to the stadium.  About 10 stops, a train transfer followed by another six or seven stops and we were at the stadium stop.  The train ride was crazy, as we were packed to the brim with other Americans, not because we were all stressed, sweaty, ticked and wet, but because of what was outside.  Flooding everywhere, as we had already seen, but the ride showed a whole different part of Recife that we had not yet been introduced to yet.  Slums.  The real slums.  Bennett and I didn’t need to say anything to each other, just a quick glance to make sure we were seeing the same thing.  Scattered pieces of wood, metal, cardboard even comprised the structure of the houses.  Plastic roofs if they were lucky.  Houses the size of my closet.  Many raised up on stilts to handle this exact event.  My guess is that many people living in this area were soaked inside of these shambled boxes.  No wonder there is so much crime in Brazil – the salary for a minimum wage worker is $760 Reis(Brazilian Currency) a year – equal to about $360 dollars.  Expenses and cost of living is lower than USA, but not by a significant amount. Here is the best picture I could get. There was another section that was much, much worse.

   After the slums, we got to the stadium stop, which was still about 3 km away. Busses next, racing the hundreds of other fans to get onto the first bus at 1:20pm for the 1:00 game.  As we finally got a glimpse of the first stadium vendor at the bottom of the hill about a half a kilometer away, the bus started slowing down, and pulled into a stop.  Moans and groans accompanied everyone’s realization that we had to walk the rest of the way.  We got off the bus, and I looked to Joel.  “Want to get a move on?”  So we ran.  Half a kilometer to the bottom of the hill, then another half a kilometer to the stadium entry.  I divvied out the remaining tickets to my friends and we finally got inside.  We’re on the 4^th level, opposite side of the stadium.  Soaked, sweaty, scared and excited, we put our heads down and ran some more.  As I passed the sign for the second tier, I picked up the pace.  A little glimmer of hope – a burst of energy overwhelmed me.  I realized what just happened, what I had just been through and where I was going.  I’m about to watch USA vs. Germany in the final group stage match in the World Cup in Brazil.  A couple yells and shrieks of encouragement and we were all nearing a sprint as we got to our section.  The numbering was horrible, and two different stadium personnel pointed us up the wrong staircase after showing them our tickets.  We finally sat down, but only for a minute.  Bennett and I shared a quick moment of embracing and celebration before devoting our full attention to the game.  35^th minute.  Let’s get started.

   The game was rather boring, honestly.  Two teams understanding their fate – USA trying to not lose 4-0, Germany trying to at least tie.  Once Muller scored, nothing really changed.  The majority of the 55 minutes of the game was devoted to soaking in the experience, taking pictures, checking with the American behind us for score updates for the Ghana/Portugal game, looking around at the fans and cheering.  Once Ronaldo scored for Portugal in the 80^th, minute, the American celebration of a 1-0 loss had begun.  Once the final whistle blew, we all celebrated.  Americans and Germans embracing one another, taking pictures together, singing, dancing, and drinking.  We sat around in our nosebleeds and hung out with everyone else.  We slowly made our way to the 1^st level, where we found a German group of Germans celebrating in German soccer songs.  Their call and repeat was really cool, I got a few seconds of it on video.  They also did a chant where they all yelled “get down” or something in German, then jumped up at the same time and started singing again.   After another 10 minutes of recruiting a big group of Americans for the below photo, we slowly made our way out of the stadium so we would miss the rush of people getting out of the stadium.

   Stopping for a beer outside from the vendors at a roundabout, it was a big party.  Mostly Americans, but scattered of everyone, a few people were taking advantage of the warm temperature and intense rain, the grass area inside the roundabout was quickly turned into a Brazilian slip n’ slide.   After a few minutes, Bennett says “should I do it?”  He really didn’t have a choice after those words.  So I joined him.  I won’t show the video, but here's the after affects.

   We apparently one-upped everyone else, but the other two slip-and-sliders spent some time hanging out with us.  We ended up hanging out with drunk guy to my right for a long time that night.  I gathered that he was actually kind of cool once he sobered up... five hours later.  As we were walking back to the bus with drunk guy and his sober friends, we got to talking to a guy that had a GoPro on a stick, he got our slide on video.  Turns out, he is a player on a certain Seattle Seahawks Football team(the Pro-Bowler asked to stay private).   We took the bus with drunk guy, Seahawk and Seahawk’s brother the dentist back to the train.  We got some great USA chants – Yanks go marching in,  I believe, USA, We Love Ya just off the top of my head.  The bus administrators in front of us were blown away at the energy everyone was bringing.  Germans led one chant, then we led one. Back and forth it went. I'm going to try to load a video when I get home, but it's not coming up properly today.

   After getting off the bus, It was a crammed walk up the ramp to the entrance of the train.  Lining the streets were a bunch of locals – kids of all ages, mostly, all yelling and screaming USA and “America”.   It was really cool.  The eight stops, train transfer and other 8 or 9 stops was quite another experience, details aside.

   We took a cab to the Fan Fest area to sit and relax a bit.  There was still a good amount of other people out and about, as it was only 5 or 6 by then.  The sun was gone and after relaxing for an hour or two, we were ready for the next chapter of the night.  We cabbed back to a bar called The Underground pub which was a mix of people from the states, England and Brazil.  I bought a Budwiser and Jack Daniels because it felt right.  We spent more hilarious time with Seahawk and his crew, met new people, sung a couple more USA chants, and Bennett and I had a great time chatting with Bea - a Brazilian girl that speaks good English.  She also went to the game with a friend, but unfortunately had German gear on.  We talked about Portuguese and American words and their meanings, creepy guys at bars, and we all took turns bragging about our significant others.  By the end of our chat, she was in full support of the USA.   A job well done by us.

We headed home at around 1am with a good buzz of alcohol, pride and amazement.