- Joined
- Jun 30, 1998
- Location
- Bierland
As an American - there are not many memories of the World Cup from the US since no one really cares there - except maybe recently.
In the States it's called "soccer", and growing up in the 60s, not many of us played it (at least in California) because it was a "foreign" game. It was a game for the Mexicans.
We did play it sometimes though - I played defense as either a full back or center back - they called me "the wall" since no one could get the ball passed me.
But in 1970, when I was in junior high - lo and behold, we had a assistant coach who looked like he was from south of the border - (or probably from the East Coast ). He was there to start soccer training for us 13 year olds.
I was all for it. But hen he started showing us how to hit the ball with our heads, I said - nope not for me. That is just plain stupid, it hurt, and it was something the Mexicans did. Different culture - different times.
Growing up and finally joining the US paratroopers as a young man, we played "combat soccer" which was basically no rules except you had to stay within the boundaries and only the goalie could touch the ball. Pushing, tripping, and ass kicking was par for the course. That was one of the first times I saw a compound fracture of the forearm.
It really wasn't until I was stationed in Germany when the wall came down, that I really remember the World Cup and the Germans going bonkers after winning it. I didn't even watch the game.
So no, I don't have any best World Cup moments from the days of yore to share - but I bet you do. So let's hear them.
In the States it's called "soccer", and growing up in the 60s, not many of us played it (at least in California) because it was a "foreign" game. It was a game for the Mexicans.
We did play it sometimes though - I played defense as either a full back or center back - they called me "the wall" since no one could get the ball passed me.
But in 1970, when I was in junior high - lo and behold, we had a assistant coach who looked like he was from south of the border - (or probably from the East Coast ). He was there to start soccer training for us 13 year olds.
I was all for it. But hen he started showing us how to hit the ball with our heads, I said - nope not for me. That is just plain stupid, it hurt, and it was something the Mexicans did. Different culture - different times.
Growing up and finally joining the US paratroopers as a young man, we played "combat soccer" which was basically no rules except you had to stay within the boundaries and only the goalie could touch the ball. Pushing, tripping, and ass kicking was par for the course. That was one of the first times I saw a compound fracture of the forearm.
It really wasn't until I was stationed in Germany when the wall came down, that I really remember the World Cup and the Germans going bonkers after winning it. I didn't even watch the game.
So no, I don't have any best World Cup moments from the days of yore to share - but I bet you do. So let's hear them.