I feel kind of dumb for never posting anything about watching the World Cup in NYC this year. More so because I don't have any kind of recap from the last World Cup (2002, Korea) when the games were at 3am and I'd set my alarm, wake up and ride my bike across town to watch the gamesat Nevada Smiths or Krucoff's.
Anyway, this year was rad. For the first round of games, I tagged along with Grellan (who was writing a story for ESPN on experiencing the games in someplace as culturaly diverse as NYC) which brought me to an AppleBee's clone way out in Jamaica, Queens run by natives of Trinidad and Tobago, dualing Argentian / Brazilian bars in Soho (and one sorry TV with a 5-second delay), not to mention the dipolmatic estate of the U.N. Ambassador to Angola (er, more on this in a minute). If you haven't read Grellan's piece, you really should.
So, but back to last Sunday - World Cup Finals between France and Italy. Me + Kevin.K made a solid effort to get to Slainte early enough to snag a seat for the final game, but showing up an hour early left us with standing room early. We searched around for a backup plan - 288 (packed), Pioneer (closed), 4th St. Bar (sent McD and his crutches to scope it out), before we got Youngna's dodgeball message about a block party down in Soho. So we headed down...
... to find a few thousand people crowded onto Spring Street btw Bowery & Elizabeth watching this ad hoc jumbotron (sponsord by Adidas? Where did this thing come from?)
We grabbed some bagels + vitamin water from the bodega next door (disaster, btw) and sm.ooshed in (hi, sm!) with the masses to watch the game.
Two things that sucked:
1. The screen was about 10 feet too low. Meaning that for anyone, say, 5'9" or shorter I could barely see. Who invited all the mf'ing tall people anyway. Oh, and I was standing on the high part of the curb.
2. The cops CUT THE POWER TO THE JUMBOTRON with about 15 mins to go in the first half. What the heck! I have expected a rioting crowd to start looting to Jen Bekman Gallery.
Apparently the cops cut the power because so many people showed up that the traffic on Spring and Elizabeth was just shut down. I get it, but would it kill you to wait the 15 mins till halftime? Or at least make an announcement! [video]
Anyway, with everyone scrambling to find a backup plan, I get another dodgeball msg from Spangler inviting everyone in the area over to HappyCorp (thanks Matt!)...
So, we ran down to Happy Corp, met up with 50 of our closest friends and watched the rest of the game on a 24" screen. Still, awesome (thanks again, HC) and Best. Headbutt. Ever.
Can I take a timeout or a second, rewind a few weeks (June 11) and go back to the U.N. Ambassador to Angola's estate to watch the Angola v. Portugal game? I never put these pics online, but here's three of mine. These words are from Youngna's recap (be sure to click on the links!)...
Then, the pinnacle of my soccer-watching life is sunday afternoon after we venture north an hour from the city to the diplomatic residence of the Angolan Ambassador to the United States to watch the game in the TV room. The estate, Goose Lake Residence, is complete with duck pond, pool house, a large bottle of Hennessey to pass around, and a full Angolan feast at the end of the day (cassava root, grilled tilapia fish, roasted plantains, chicken, rice, etc...delicious!). Despite the Angolan loss (0-1 to Portugal), it was the best. soccer viewing experience. ever. [more]
When we initially drove up the driveway to the estate, we passed this mansion on the right and were like "Oh, this must be in" only to realize it was the caretaker's house. What!
That's the ambassador on the right talking to Elliot.
ps: the scallops wrapped in bacon = delicious.
And on the ride back, Elliot sporting his best Angolan pride. (ps: Angola lost 1-0, much less of a blowout than everyone expected).
ps: And yes, I am now aware of shady dealings in Angola... though I only realized this after the fact.
And, so that's the end of World Cup 2006. Thanks for coming out. And before I get out of here, a few weekend odd and ends...
Thursday = a rowdy night at Motor City Bar. If there's one thing that Maker's Mark taught me...
... girls love it when you write your name on their arms with a Sharpie.
Also, DO NOT respond to random girls who text you via Facebook. (cue: Bad Idea Jeans soundtrack)
Saturday. Sorry about your lost cat.
Sunday. Since the new Hudson skate park still isn't open, Randy and I hit bowl at Chelsea Piers (thanke for the pic, man)