The phone calls and texts have started. People are incredulous and exasperated over this whole German triumph in the World Cup. "JBelle!" they say. "Good Lord! woman!" "How can you throw Argentina over for Germany?" "Argentina! Whom you swore would win and with whom you have matched samba move for samba move all through their undefeated swing through the brackets to the very moment they met Germany?"
Well, here's the deal: not even the USA let England score at 2:39. If you're going to play candy ass, Sky Hawk football, even for a moment, let alone in the quarter finals of the World Cup, you'll see JBelle exiting the stadium, leaving her jersey stuffed in the folded up seat. JBelle just doesn't root for losers.
"Lord, Girl, that's cold," you say. "Cold! Where's your loyalty? You call it, get a team, are, as they say, caliente in the fervor of your team's advancement and then dump them in a stunning reversal of loyalty over a few silly missed balls, bungled plays? "
(Chuckling) You don't know anyone more loyal that JBelle. You never will know anyone more loyal than JBelle. You just won't. But you, probably like many, misunderstand. And as a episodic fan, I completely forgive you and indemnify you from your error. I know you'd like to get it.
My loyalty is to the football. Lionel Messi is only interesting to me to the extent that he executes cunningly and flawlessly. I don't frigging care what he did in last week's match. Just don't care! I care about what he could do and might do in next week's match. My loyalty is to the game.
So I'm late to the party but I've jumped in the back of the German pick up bumping down the road to the final. My cousin's here, he scored the goal at 2:39, making the point that it's never too early or too late to score; the goalkeeper looks a lot like Son the Younger, especially when he's making a goal kick; turns out there's a Turkish kid playing that has a rocket for a foot; and most of these guys are like me: pretty inexperienced, quite idealistic, but with a work ethic second to none. So I'm in. Turns out my people are my people.
The 'Kan EWA