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Showing posts with label World Cup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label World Cup. Show all posts
Friday, June 27, 2014 13 comments

You Know You're A Parent When...#19: World Cup Fever :)

Aloha,

It's been about a month since the last edition of my You Know You're A Parent When... series, so enjoy - especially if you are a soccer (it's "football," people ;) fan!

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My wife came home from work Thursday and said, "Isn't soccer a funny old game?"

As a naturalized U.S. citizen (ecstatic the U.S. made the last 16 of the World Cup again) who was born in Ireland (didn't qualify - again #sigh) from a Dutch father (also in the last 16), I had to smile - again :)

Bradley, Dempsey and Howard of TeamUSA (Courtesy: ESPN)


"Especially now, because it's the World Cup," I said after watching yet four-hour-day of soccer (okay, I don't actually sit down and watch four hours of soccer, but Disney Channel and Nick jr are personas not grata in Casa Koopmans until mid-July.

What's funny is that two weeks ago I could barely name one player on the U.S. side - and still don't know anyone on the Dutch side, but I am rooting both teams on like nobody's business.

I mention this only because (most of) my writing has fallen to the wayside and my current, and much-used hashtag on Twitter is #amNOTwriting :)

See, I remember my Dad and I watching the 1974 World Cup Final between Holland and then-West Germany and now here I am, 40 years later, watching with my three boys. How awesome is that?

That was such a sweet memory and I do hope my sons will watch the 2054 World Cup with their kids (God willing.)

I say it was a sweet memory because the other day I may have traumatized my poor children after I got caught up in the action... and forgot I wasn't 21, single and drinking in a bar alongside hundreds of other lunatic soccer fans screaming at the small-screen TV (as if the referee could hear us:)

 When the U.S. scored a second goal against Portugal, I jumped out of my chair and let out a huge roar of "GO ON, MY SON, GO ON!!!"

Truly, I must have sounded like a sick and injured banshee (who discovers yet another parking ticket on her windscreen.)

Our three boys - who were all quite happy, either watching the game or playing with cars - looked up at me with big bug eyes as if I was reprising a role in The Exorcist.

"Don't worry, children, it's just Papa watching soccer," cooed my wife. "He'll be better next month."

I do hope they're not scarred for life - I'll report back after this year's final - and in World Cup '18 to let you know :)

So is the drama of the World Cup - and long may the chanting/screaming at little TVs last :)


"Hup Holland!!!"


USA! USA! USA!


Clint Dempsey, Tim Howard and the *coolest* ball boy :) Courtesy: A Livesey/Getty Images





 
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