Here we go, Here we go, Here we go!!!!

I decided to write this before we headed up to Rustenburg for the big US game for a few reasons: 1. Last night was crazy and Curtis was so damn funny I didn't want to forget anything. 2. It is a 2 hour drive to R'burg and the game is at 8:30. This means late night.

Soooo, yesterday was again bittersweet. We had to say farewell to another member of our Wolfpack. Clint's flight was at 7:00 pm which meant another drive to the airport to deposit a good friend on a big flying tube. Earlier, though we visited the local flea/craft market to get some last minutes goodies. The place was vibrant, and the Spaniards and Chileans were out in force for tonight's game at Loftus. (I will get to that game in a bit). Clint had been wanting to get food at the Lebanese takeaway place nearby since we got here, but we were discouraged yet again, but the presence of the Algerian Barbarian Brothers. The two biggest Algerians I have ever seen, just lurked around the entrance, with scowls that said they would like nothing more than to rip off some American's arm and beat them to death with them. Of course, we did our best to look "local"....except, in a show of solidarity, we were all wearing matching sky blue Denver Nuggets headbands...we really know how to blend.
We get to the market, and do a little shopping....except for Curtis who was doing his impersonation of a little old lady at a yard sale. He kicked every proverbial tire in that market for a second consecutive time, and again walked out with nothing...yeesh. We then realized that Clint, German, and I had to leave for the airport in an hour, so a real "sit down" lunch was probably not feasible. We had been seeing Wimpy Hamburger joints all over so we figured we might as well try it. "I would gladly pay you Wednesday for a hamburger today"....no? I am getting old. Anyways, our quick lunch took 35 minutes to get, cost about $10 each and was questionable at best.
It was a quick and uneventful trip to the airport, and German and I said our goodbyes to Clint and then we were five. We got back to the lodge in time to catch the second half of the Brazil v Netherlands game, and then the fun really started.
You see, when we first got here and were looking for tickets to other games, we found that each stadium was allowed to sell Premier tickets for their own games. This meant luxury suites, that were only slightly more expensive than regular Category 1 tickets. I had decided early on that I wanted to watch at least one game from a suite. Spain v Chile seemed like the best game going. Corey and Curtis decided to join me on this little extravagance, while Jimmy and German decided to try and get cheaper tickets outside the stadium.
On the way to the stadium, Curtis seemed a more jovial than usual mood, and it wasn't until He, Corey, and I got to the stadium that we learned he had already drank a bottle of red wine while blogging...queue for wild night. We find our hospitality entrance and the lovely young lady informs us that we were getting an upgrade. One level closer to the field, and free booze and munchies...you see it coming don't you? We get to the box, and Curtis immediately makes friends with several South Africans. They are all supporting Spain, so Curtis agrees that we will support Spain to, as long as they root for the US in Rustenburg. I, on the other hand, was getting acquainted with our bartender. His name was Kealabogo, which means "Thank You" in....some language here in South Africa. While everyone else (this box was shared with about 40 people) was haranguing him about everything you could imagine. I asked him if he was allowed to except tips. He said, "Of course." and with that I passed him a 20 rand note and a beautiful friendship/partnership was born. We did not have an empty glass for the rest of the night. The box came with an assortment of munchies, and among them was some biltong. For those of you unfamiliar with this particular delicacy, it is jerky made from Cape Buffalo....and it is damn yummy. Since we had not eaten since our Forgettable Wimpy experience earlier, we partook heavily of the biltong. When it ran out, you would hear the warcry for the rest of the evening: Curtis yelling "BILTONG!" in a regular rhythmic chant. At one point in the second half we couldn't find him for about 20 minutes and he showed up grinning from ear to ear. "You want some Biltong?", he said and opened up the pocket of his fleece. It was filled with about 2 pounds of jerky. He had gone into every box in our section, one by one, and appropriated all of their biltong....more red wine anyone?
Somewhere in all of this Spain won the match, I got into an argument with an Argentine about why I detested Spain, divers, and most especially Fernando Torres, and Kealebogo was about 140 rands richer. I think we were the only ones who were tipping him, and he was so thankful, telling us that we made his job easy. Sweet. Finally his manager made us all leave the box, and Curtis decided that he wanted to get his picture taken with her. She smiled, obliged, said "AYOBA!" and this started a trend that was to last the next several hours. Every person we passed had to get their picture taken with Curtis. Those of you who know about Curtis' "Martin" alter ego understand what I am talking about and Martin was unleashed.
At one point he asked a group of Chileans to take a photo. They grudgingly acquiesced, and let him hold their bass drum. They then looked disinterested so Curtis yelled "How Fucking Lame are they?" to Corey and I. He began banging a good beat on the drum, and was instantly in the middle of a Chilean uprising. Singing a good Chilean fight song to Curtis' beat with this little gringo in the middle. It was at this point that Corey and I texted German and Jim (who hadn't made it into the game), we are handing him over to you guys when we get to the Stone Lion (a local pub).
After several more paparazzi sessions we made it to the bar and Corey gave German a high 5. German said he was glad we had a good time, and Corey said, "That wasn't a high 5! I just tagged you in!" We had passed off Martin wrangling duties. We had a great rest of the evening talking to some local South African students. I believe we have photographic evidence of some other goings on, but I am going to let someone tell that story....
By the time German and I got home it was nearly 4am....I am too damn old for this. I got up at 8:30 to politely let the lodge owners know that I was not going to be eating breakfast, called Jen and Gage, and then promptly went back to bed until noon. Now I am showered, rested, and ready to go cheer on some Ghana ass kicking.
Here we go, here we go, here we goooooooooooo