Schooled. We were, quite simply, schooled in the art of football. Soccer to North Americans. By Congo (although I’m unsure of whether it’s the Republic of or the Democratic Republic of). Either country of which barely has a functioning telephone system (according to the CIA Factbook).
Not to denegrate their achievemnt, though. Not the least. Many of their under 20 players are quite literally playing for their lives. A chance at a professional salary, and a way out of their own country.
Our boys… well, they’d be happy with a goal.
So me and Justin and Bradyn, at my urging, travelled up to Edmonton’s Commonwealth Stadium to go watch a World Cup match. My rationale was simple; it’s the best soccer we’re likely to ever see in Canada. Even better than Toronto FC of the Major League Soccer, um…, league. So we sort of had to go. Just for bragging rights.
And it’s my kids’ birthdays. Bradyn, on the right, is 20. Justin’s 22 tomorrow.
It was a double header. The first game showed Mexico vs. New Zealand. New Zealand’s like us (with no wins), only they score goals.
Next up was Canada vs. The Congo. I was able to snap this shot just before the rain came: the Canadian cheering section.
Yes, the rain came. Despite what Accuweather.com forecast (pox on them). By the end of the first half (of the second match) we were soaked through to the bone, and we evacuated to watch the rest of the match at a pub on Whyte Ave.
And then home, with the loss. Neither a win nor a goal to show for it. Our’s is simply now a soccer culture. Go Barcelona FC!