Tomorrow you can ask what all that buzzing was about but not tonight; tonight is for finding sound and loving it.
I was walking along, trying to find a spot to watch and, just as importantly, folks to watch with. My laptop would work, if a TV broadcast was all I was looking for. But it wasn’t. My first shot was a pub that didn’t look promising; following that, I found out I was in a spot with no TV. Finally, I found a food joint and got lasagna.
I normally rush through my food, but I took as long as I could, though my lasagna was growing cold. Trying to stick around, I saw almost all of that match’s first half. In slow-motion, it was vibrant; colors approaching, colliding, tumbling. A color flashing down again and again. I had to tilt backwards, but it was okay: I saw what I was trying to.
Nobody was waiting for my booth, so I paid but sat still. Not so much drama, but nothing that would count from any attack.
Though now and again, a shot would almost go in. And from an adjoining room, sound would follow that.
I wasn’t rooting for anybody, and was glad for bonus football. I had to go to a bathroom, but didn’t sit back down in my booth; picking up my cup, I sat down in that adjoining room.
Almost as soon as I did, I found out what I hadn’t had in my first room. Sound. Discussion from guys on TV–and, too, fans’ music. This World Cup had a hum to it. Not a song with a protagonist I could latch on to, rooting and hoping from start to finish. Not phony chords, harmony about harmony. Not just discord and frustration. No, it was many thousands in unison. Annoying to fans hoping for familiar chants, possibly. But without a sight of TVs pointing out of windows so I could watch from roads, not in this small town, it’s sound that can drag a non-rooting patron in.
And though I didn’t root, though I wouldn’t mind PKs (okay, I’ll modify that paragraph…broadcast sound can annoy if I don’t know who all is playing for Spain, Bud and Lou could work on this), I could groan or gasp at good shots. “Ohhhh” just sounds right in a group. I didn’t ask if anybody was rooting, and still don’t know now. But that’s okay.
Finally, a goal. I didn’t shout for long, not caring who won, but I did shout.
So, if you saw this championship as part of a crowd–probably not my crowd, but any crowd–as a proxy for all of us wanting a match to pull us in, wanting to know this sound; thank you.