(Argentinian players are scrumming or something in this action shot from ESPN).

Old Jim summed it up pretty eloquently last night at the bar as the mind-numbing match between two incredibly talented defensive teams from the Argentine and Holland battled to an inconclusive nil-nil tie in extended time.

Then they picked a couple guys and gave them shots at the goalie, and the South Americans appeared to have won something that had very little to do with the actual match.

“Weird,” I said. “That is two hours out of my life that I am going to miss.”

Jim growled and took a hit of Budweiser. “That game between Germany and Brazil made me think Americans might wind up liking this sport. There was action, and consequences, and real emotion.”

“And a boatload of scoring,” I said, taking a sip of whiskey. The situation was too dire for white wine.

“Precisely. The Germans played like they were in the NFL. This was a waste of space.”

I nodded and swirled my drink. “I don’t get the whole penalty kick thing. Why don’t they just start taking players off the field until you get down to the two goalkeepers duking it out, like the end of a hockey game with no one in net.”

“Beats me. Americans will never go for it.”

“I wish the sound wasn’t broken on the television,” said Jim. “It might make it easier to understand what the hell is going on.”

I cleared my throat, and tried my radio voice: “It was hardly surprising that it went to penalties. Argentina kept their nerve, The Netherlands didn’t and now the men in light blue and white progress to Sunday’s final in Rio against the Germans, a repeat of the 1990 decider when the then- West Germans were successful.”

“ So Lionel Messi gets the chance to assume the mantel of the world historic figures, his fellow Argentinian Diego Maradona and Brazil’s legendary Pele, and lead the South Americans to a world title,” he said, “You going to watch the final?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Is there a baseball game on? I would like to see something with scoring. I used to think baseball was sort of slow.”

“I don’t know if I will. But you have to admit that the World Cup is better than the circus here in Washington.”

“Or on the border,” I said. “Soccer will be the national sport sooner or later. It is just a matter of time.”

“The US team will probably get better when all those kids grow up, you know?”

“You might be onto something there,” snorted Jim and waggled his finger at Jasper to get another beer.

Copyright 2014 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Twitter: @jauare303