"The players in this show act with their legs for an audience of thousands or millions who watch from the stands or their living rooms with souls on edge." -Eduardo Galeano
Allow me, for a moment, to borrow my own stage and introduce myself and this little experiment: A month lived almost entirely within the context of this game we love so dearly.
I'll be writing here about the World Cup in South Africa, but it is my hope to touch on some things that stretch far beyond the confines of the game; I doubt these incursions into the real world will be intentional, as the real world finds a way to interrupt everything, even events as solemn as the World Cup.
In the interest of disclosure and for my part, I'm an American, though I support Arsenal, of London. I'm normally bitterly opposed to sports bigamy, but I'm extending myself a pass by virtue that Arsenal was the first club I ever really saw play, the World Cup in 1994 stoking my seven-year old brain's passion for the game into full-fledged obsession.
And here we are. I could share more details about myself, but I think I'll merely let this space and the words soon to fill it speak for themselves.
Whether you're a passionate fan of the game or a relative neophyte to this crazy little world of ours, I hope you'll watch with me and return here often to read more about this wonderful event.
Onward, dear friends.
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