June 18 Day 9
USA 2 Slovenia 2 Ellis Park
Having apparently solved the Johannesburg parking horrors, we headed straight for the Westgate facility. The weather was better, in the high 50's, warm in the sun. We no longer bothered to check the precipitation forecast. There is virtually none in this season, except sometimes along the coast.
When we pulled up to the Westgate guard station, we held our breath. We have found in South Africa that when one asks people for information, you may get it and you may get correct information. Or, you may not. No matter, the guards let is in. We were surprised how few cars were in the dirt lot.
Brian gave 40 rand ($5.20) to the attendant who had guided us to our parking spot. South Africans almost uniformly express profound pleasure when we tip them, as if they have received a truly wonderful gift. Without our asking, the man said, "I will make sure your car is safe." We considered the gratuity a wise business investment.
The Rea Vaya platform is right there and we boarded a bus, after one trip now fully experienced with the routine. The ride to Ellis Park Stadium is longer than to Soccer City. The line winds through the central city, taking 30 minutes to arrive at the Ellis Park platform. Even at that point we had 90 minutes to game time. What luxury beholds a simple convenient parking lot!
On the way into the stadium, I spotted a shopping complex with stores offering Chinese goods. The sign even had Chinese characters. Of course I had to take a photo.
Inside the gates, MTN, the very successful South African cell phone company, had erected a screen, showing the day's 1:30 pm match, Serbia v Germany. Of course we stood and watched as long as we could, while munching on our World Cup meal (foot-long hot dog, with Diet Coke for me and Brian beer). As in Pretoria and at Soccer City we even saw vendors peddling Coke and ice cream. Are the beer men soon to follow?
At half-time, the MTN people announced that FIFA officials had ordered that the screen be darkened, as the location was too close to the entrance gates. It was not. Perhaps these officials might wish to spend more time overseeing the parking and game transport facilities for the ordinary fans. The pooh-bahs get police-escorted buses and automobiles. The flashing blue lights can often be seen rushing through the streets surrounding each venue. Some day, I will follow such a procession, to at least get to the stadium environs quickly through the traffic. Who knows: if I tell them I am Mr. World Cup (men's and women's) they might let me have a vacant parking space in the pooh-bah lot.
The MTN people assured us that the Germany - Serbia second half would be shown on the big screens in the stadium. I wondered about that, since in all my World Cup experience, they infrequently announce scores of other games, much less actually show another game on any stadium screen. We went to our seats, skeptical but hopeful. Of course we waited and waited, in vain. No Germany v Serbia. We were sure there had been an intentional to lie to avoid provoking the viewers. FIFA, my favorite donkeys (with earnest apologies to donkeys).
We lounged in the bright, cloudless African winter sun and waited for warm-ups, which started about 45 minutes before game time. Better to be relaxing than dashing madly for our seats before kick-off. Did I mention the FIFA people are donkeys?
We sat up in the second deck corner, four rows back, opposite the player's benches, to the right as the players viewed the field. Most fans around us were South Africans and foreigners, though of course there were many fellow Americans.
Finally, the game began. We were dismayed at how poorly the USA played. Our passes were not sharp and we saw numerous mental gaffes. The tactics were ineffective as well: repeatedly we sent long, high balls up the middle, hoping our guys could corral a ball and so something. None did anything.
Defensively the Slovenians played a physical game, focusing on Altidore. They held him and they knocked him down. The referee spotted their tactics and handed out a couple yellow cards. However, Brian and I could see, after so many years' soccer experience with hundreds of referees in the youth level and at the World Cup, that this official was prancing around the field in his bright referee's yellow shirt and black pants in such a manner to suggest he might do something goofy, like issue a red card for no apparent reason; body language, shall we say.
Offensively, the Slovenians are a sound European team with good teamwork. They played well, though not spectacularly. Our suspect defense allowed the Slovenians a few excellent chances, and to their credit they scored two in the first half. Things looked really dark for the USA, if we lost this game. Brian speculated Coach Bradley might consider returning to the USA on Brian's flight two days later. We were very discouraged about any comeback, while playing so awkwardly.
The second half began. After more than two minutes, in an instant, below us on the far side, we could see Donovan gather the ball. He was clear. Donovan dashed straight for the goal, coming at a very sharp angle. We wondered what he would do with the ball. In a flash, at full speed, he struck the ball hard and high, and sent it past the goalkeeper into the goal roof, a fantastic goal! The stadium erupted, as for this game, most spectators were cheering the USA.
We had hope!
Time went on....and on. Overall the USA was still not playing well. We agonized. Then, late in the game, below us, we saw a scramble in the penalty box. The ball spun loose. Bradley the son jumped on the opportunity and sent a hard shot into the net. The game was tied!!!
People were jumping, yelling and screaming wildly. We yelled and yelled uncontrollably. What a huge difference a second makes!
Now that our team had climbed the mountain, we had to stay there. We had to hold on!
The Americans had the momentum. The stadium was electric and boisterous.
The USA attacked and attacked, like a heavyweight boxer, throwing punches again and again. Then, miraculously, another penalty box melee erupted and another American shot went into the goal below us. Wow, we were ahead!!!!!!!!! Or, so we thought. We heard later than no team in World Cup history has ever won after being down two goals at half-time.
Seemingly everyone was yelling and yelling. We joined them for about 15 seconds. Then we could see something was wrong. The referee was standing in the penalty box. NO GOAL! "What happened?" "What happened?," everyone was asking. No one but God and the prancing Malian referee knew the answer.
When the game ended a few minutes later, we could see Altidore below us shouting at the referee. We hoped someone would hustle him away before that unpredictable official issued a red card, banning Altimore from the next match.
Finally, calm reigned and we streamed out, relieved that America's World Cup place was preserved, at least until another day.
We arrived back at hotel with no problems at all. World Cup commuting life can be good. We quickly changed and met Angelo and Stana for dinner at nearby Montecasino. This casino is pure Las Vegas in scope and decor and facilites. Angelo told us there were many such casinos in South Africa. The gargantuan size was all the more amazing. The place was crowded, and we saw both locals and foreigners
We ate dinner at an Italian restaurant, of course positioned so we could watch that night's game. After dinner, we took a wrong turn on the highway and lost at least 30 minutes. Such loss we did not need as we had a 4:30am wake-up call to catch a 7:10am flight to Cape Town. Those arrangements did not look nearly so good as when we had made them.
USA 2 Slovenia 2 Ellis Park
Having apparently solved the Johannesburg parking horrors, we headed straight for the Westgate facility. The weather was better, in the high 50's, warm in the sun. We no longer bothered to check the precipitation forecast. There is virtually none in this season, except sometimes along the coast.
When we pulled up to the Westgate guard station, we held our breath. We have found in South Africa that when one asks people for information, you may get it and you may get correct information. Or, you may not. No matter, the guards let is in. We were surprised how few cars were in the dirt lot.
Brian gave 40 rand ($5.20) to the attendant who had guided us to our parking spot. South Africans almost uniformly express profound pleasure when we tip them, as if they have received a truly wonderful gift. Without our asking, the man said, "I will make sure your car is safe." We considered the gratuity a wise business investment.
The Rea Vaya platform is right there and we boarded a bus, after one trip now fully experienced with the routine. The ride to Ellis Park Stadium is longer than to Soccer City. The line winds through the central city, taking 30 minutes to arrive at the Ellis Park platform. Even at that point we had 90 minutes to game time. What luxury beholds a simple convenient parking lot!
On the way into the stadium, I spotted a shopping complex with stores offering Chinese goods. The sign even had Chinese characters. Of course I had to take a photo.
Inside the gates, MTN, the very successful South African cell phone company, had erected a screen, showing the day's 1:30 pm match, Serbia v Germany. Of course we stood and watched as long as we could, while munching on our World Cup meal (foot-long hot dog, with Diet Coke for me and Brian beer). As in Pretoria and at Soccer City we even saw vendors peddling Coke and ice cream. Are the beer men soon to follow?
At half-time, the MTN people announced that FIFA officials had ordered that the screen be darkened, as the location was too close to the entrance gates. It was not. Perhaps these officials might wish to spend more time overseeing the parking and game transport facilities for the ordinary fans. The pooh-bahs get police-escorted buses and automobiles. The flashing blue lights can often be seen rushing through the streets surrounding each venue. Some day, I will follow such a procession, to at least get to the stadium environs quickly through the traffic. Who knows: if I tell them I am Mr. World Cup (men's and women's) they might let me have a vacant parking space in the pooh-bah lot.
The MTN people assured us that the Germany - Serbia second half would be shown on the big screens in the stadium. I wondered about that, since in all my World Cup experience, they infrequently announce scores of other games, much less actually show another game on any stadium screen. We went to our seats, skeptical but hopeful. Of course we waited and waited, in vain. No Germany v Serbia. We were sure there had been an intentional to lie to avoid provoking the viewers. FIFA, my favorite donkeys (with earnest apologies to donkeys).
We lounged in the bright, cloudless African winter sun and waited for warm-ups, which started about 45 minutes before game time. Better to be relaxing than dashing madly for our seats before kick-off. Did I mention the FIFA people are donkeys?
We sat up in the second deck corner, four rows back, opposite the player's benches, to the right as the players viewed the field. Most fans around us were South Africans and foreigners, though of course there were many fellow Americans.
Finally, the game began. We were dismayed at how poorly the USA played. Our passes were not sharp and we saw numerous mental gaffes. The tactics were ineffective as well: repeatedly we sent long, high balls up the middle, hoping our guys could corral a ball and so something. None did anything.
Defensively the Slovenians played a physical game, focusing on Altidore. They held him and they knocked him down. The referee spotted their tactics and handed out a couple yellow cards. However, Brian and I could see, after so many years' soccer experience with hundreds of referees in the youth level and at the World Cup, that this official was prancing around the field in his bright referee's yellow shirt and black pants in such a manner to suggest he might do something goofy, like issue a red card for no apparent reason; body language, shall we say.
Offensively, the Slovenians are a sound European team with good teamwork. They played well, though not spectacularly. Our suspect defense allowed the Slovenians a few excellent chances, and to their credit they scored two in the first half. Things looked really dark for the USA, if we lost this game. Brian speculated Coach Bradley might consider returning to the USA on Brian's flight two days later. We were very discouraged about any comeback, while playing so awkwardly.
The second half began. After more than two minutes, in an instant, below us on the far side, we could see Donovan gather the ball. He was clear. Donovan dashed straight for the goal, coming at a very sharp angle. We wondered what he would do with the ball. In a flash, at full speed, he struck the ball hard and high, and sent it past the goalkeeper into the goal roof, a fantastic goal! The stadium erupted, as for this game, most spectators were cheering the USA.
We had hope!
Time went on....and on. Overall the USA was still not playing well. We agonized. Then, late in the game, below us, we saw a scramble in the penalty box. The ball spun loose. Bradley the son jumped on the opportunity and sent a hard shot into the net. The game was tied!!!
People were jumping, yelling and screaming wildly. We yelled and yelled uncontrollably. What a huge difference a second makes!
Now that our team had climbed the mountain, we had to stay there. We had to hold on!
The Americans had the momentum. The stadium was electric and boisterous.
The USA attacked and attacked, like a heavyweight boxer, throwing punches again and again. Then, miraculously, another penalty box melee erupted and another American shot went into the goal below us. Wow, we were ahead!!!!!!!!! Or, so we thought. We heard later than no team in World Cup history has ever won after being down two goals at half-time.
Seemingly everyone was yelling and yelling. We joined them for about 15 seconds. Then we could see something was wrong. The referee was standing in the penalty box. NO GOAL! "What happened?" "What happened?," everyone was asking. No one but God and the prancing Malian referee knew the answer.
When the game ended a few minutes later, we could see Altidore below us shouting at the referee. We hoped someone would hustle him away before that unpredictable official issued a red card, banning Altimore from the next match.
Finally, calm reigned and we streamed out, relieved that America's World Cup place was preserved, at least until another day.
We arrived back at hotel with no problems at all. World Cup commuting life can be good. We quickly changed and met Angelo and Stana for dinner at nearby Montecasino. This casino is pure Las Vegas in scope and decor and facilites. Angelo told us there were many such casinos in South Africa. The gargantuan size was all the more amazing. The place was crowded, and we saw both locals and foreigners
We ate dinner at an Italian restaurant, of course positioned so we could watch that night's game. After dinner, we took a wrong turn on the highway and lost at least 30 minutes. Such loss we did not need as we had a 4:30am wake-up call to catch a 7:10am flight to Cape Town. Those arrangements did not look nearly so good as when we had made them.
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