Before you soccer…er…football…jump on that utterly obvious title, just hear me out. I’m here representing the somewhat common American man. One that loves BBQ, beer, baseball, football and kickin’ ass. Soccer doesn’t fit into that equation very often…more like only every four years.
But every time the World Cup rolls around now, I find myself swept up in the excitement and actually devoting days to watching Uruguay and France duel. (I honestly had forgotten that Uruguay was a country.) I’ve never particularly cared for soccer. I played it for one year when I was four and promptly quit after taking a ball to the face. That’s probably why I stuck to sports that involved protective head gear from there on out. That, and the fact that I was terrible.
But the 2002 Cup resurrected my interest of the game. I stayed up for the 3 a.m. start of the U.S.-Mexico second-round match and it was the first time I had been riveted by soccer. I’ll never forget Brian McBride and Landon Donovan and that 2-0 win. And this year I’m all sorts of amped up for the U.S.-England match tomorrow. Why? Well, here are my reasons to love the World Cup after the jump: