So in about seventeen and half hours, the US will finally begin it's part in this year's Copa. With all the games that have been played so far (for those scoring at home, or even if you're alone, we're 11 games in as of this post), and all the drama that's taken place, both good (the first goal scored by Holland's Van Persie against Spain was an-un-bee-leev-able thing of beauty, even if you're not a soccer fan) and bad (what the hell happened to Spain?!?!), it'll feel like this show will finally be on the road after our boys get their first caps, and we get to be there to see it happen. Quite stoked, actually.
We got into Natal at about 6:45 local, so it was too dark to see any of the area that well as we pulled in to town. It was clear from the airport, however, that the place would be overrun with Americans, for both good and ill. We were met by reps giving away free 10oz cans of beer to any takers coming off the plane; how great would that be if it happened regularly in the States? Sadly, it was World Cup commemorative cans of Budweiser; oh, the terrible injustices we sometimes, and usually negligently, inflict on the rest of the world.
The three men on the trip shared a hearty meal of picanha steak with all the fixings, including farofa, rice, feijoes (in an interesting twist with which even Mr. D was unfamiliar, we got black eyed-peas instead of the expected black beans), and fries(?), alongside many Skol beers and a couple of caiparinhas that didn't survive their trip to the table. After dinner, took about an hour-long walk along the malecon (don't know the Portuguese equivalent), and happened across the Natal version of the FIFA Fan Fest of which we partook on Thursday. Given the matches were over for the day, the place was shut down tight, but this was just the calm before tomorrow's storm of red, white and blue washes up on shore.
U-S-A! U-S-A!
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