1776 part 2

The day was finally here. Ever since the World Cup draw was completed, this was the game all Americans were waiting for. A chance to prove to the old Mother Country that we knew a thing or two about soccer (yes I called it soccer on purpose). The day started a little foggy...OK, a lot foggy. I keep getting the feeling that I am in a Hank Williams Jr. song except all my rowdy friends haven't settled down, but the hangovers DO hurt more than they used to. Ouch. Anyway, we arrange to take a FIFA sponsored bus to Rustenburg rather than try to drive the 110km at night. We take some taxis down to the Pretoria City Hall to try and find the guy who will sell us tickets. As luck would have it, the bus leaves 1 1/2 hours after we were told it would. "No worries" the driver says, this bus will get in at 6:00. We get on the bus, and off we go. It started off well enough. We met some Australians, some English, and some other American supporters and everyone was in high spirits for the game. This lasted about 45 minutes when we hit the traffic. You see, it seems that South Africa doesn't really handle large groups of people very well. The highway between Pretoria and Rustenburg has several Toll Plazas, and these plazas are extremely effective at bringing traffic to a soul crushing halt. We quickly realize that the hour and half late start cost us dearly. After a lot of moaning, groaning, and 2 bathroom pitsops (several of our English companions had been drinking on the bus, and Jimmy decided to take advantage of the situation), we rolled into the stadium parking lot a mere 40 minutes before game time. After entering the stadium we decide that our bodies are ready for some more beer and head to the beer stands....where we again find a glaring example of African efficiency. Amidst the chanting and howling USA and England fans, there are 3 concession attendants trying to satisfy the demands of approximately 300 thirsty football fans. Not a pretty sight. We split up and tried several lines, and eventually Jimmy and Clint got through and ordered 10 beers...they let them order 10. Nice. Off to our seats.
The first time I see the field it is awesome. It always is. There are a refreshing number of US supporters but the English presence was was impressive as always. The entire stadium was ringed with the English flag. There were so many St. George's Crosses it looked like the frigging crusades. I make my way to the seats only to find that 2 English "gentlemen" were right next to us. They made some snide comments to a few of our chants, but pretty low key. I have to be honest here. I have watched the game since and you can't here any of the supporters singing. Those damn vuvuzelas are drowning out everything. I can assure you, though, that we were singing our asses off. 5 minutes in, disaster strikes, and England score. The "low key" gentleman next to Clint goes Linda Blair on us and starts to pump his fist and scream like a madman. It was at this point that I thought Clint was going to throw him down the stairs. The game proceeded and after the initial defensive gaff, the US came back into the game and it wasn't long before David Green gave the US fans something to cheer. It's a shame that the goalkeeping blunder detracts from the skill that Dempsey displayed to get himself room for the shot, but that is what everyone will remember. I am sure the "bloke" next to us will remember it...he was in the midst of a near riot as we pretty much freaked out in the stands. 1-1. sweet.
At halftime German shows up in our section. He had been seated on the opposite corner from us with a bunch of English fans and decided he had had enough, so we made his way through 7 sections to find us and stand with us. A few minutes later Ryan did the same. There were no empty seats in our section by no minded shoving in a few extra bodies. The group was complete and we cheered our boys on for the rest of the match. The US did us proud and played with, arguably, more poise and determination than our more prestigious opponents. We also got to hear some new chants that were obviously concocted for this particular game. "Dental Hygiene" and "USA the original Insurgents" were a few of the more fun ones.
After the game, it became very apparent that we, as US fans, were no longer trying to "fit in" with the rest of football fandom. People don't like us? So be it. The concourses around the stadium were filled with cheering US fans (the Brits hightailed it pretty quick) and we went Wu-Tang on their ass. "USA ain't nothing to F*** with!" You know? I think we are developing an identity.
The ride home was a bit somber. One of the South Africans on the bus got the driver to pull over on the side of the road at a small shack where we bought beer. It was a shack full of locals drinking, dancing and singing. There was a steel cage in the middle where a woman was selling beers in the bottle. Needless to say Ryan and I raised some eyebrows as the only other white guys in the building, but Ryan quickly made friends. An older gentleman kept shaking our hands and managed to inform us that his name was Opa and figured out our names. Ryan bought him a beer and all was good in the world. This is a good thing since, on further reflection, we could have gotten our asses kicked in that joint. Anyways, the beer was 10 rands a liter (roughly $1.25) and we took several back to the bus for a jolly ride home.
Tomorrow. Ghana v Serbia