There are three things I remember about the only World Cup match I have ever
attended: Bulgaria’s 2-1 victory over Germany at Giants Stadium in the quarterfinal
round in 1994.
- The banging sound of a Lothar Matthäus shot, from great distance, when it hit
the crossbar — you could hear it clearly in the upper deck; - How my barber, a native of Bulgaria, could still recall every moment of the game,
30 years later — it remains one of the greatest moments in the country’s history,
sports or otherwise; - That I didn’t take my future wife to the match.
Now, many have heard the tale that Lori and I were married seven months after our first
meeting. (When you know, you know.) But at that point, we had only known each other
for a few weeks. It’s still unclear if we had gone on a first date yet.
This much was certain; she wasn’t a sports fan. And at that time, sports in the U.S.
meant baseball, basketball and football — certainly not soccer.
***
I had always been a soccer guy growing up.
I went to NASL games when I was a kid. I saw the U.S. National Team play at a high
school stadium in California that held a few thousand — and there were empty seats. I
remember the U.S. returning to the World Cup in 1990, led by a few guys I went to
college with at UVA: Tony Meola and John Harkes.
So, when the World Cup came to the U.S. in 1994, I sent in an application by mail
(seriously, by mail) to get tickets for any game at Giants Stadium. I was selected to get
two tickets for a quarterfinal. I don’t recall them being very expensive — two digits,
certainly not three.
I do recall the country being swept up in the Cup, far more than I’ve seen this time
around.
U.S. players seemed to be on ads everywhere, with Alexi Lalas and his ZZ Top goatee
and Cobi Jones getting most of the attention. And when Ireland stunned Italy, 1-0, in the
first match at Giants Stadium, the area went nuts.
Even non-sports fans were interested.
***
Here’s the funny thing about all this, at least to me. I had a hard time giving away that
second seat.
No one at the Star-Ledger sports department, where I worked at the time, had much
interest. No one seemed to care at Papa Razzi (my second job), either. Finally, Paul
McEwan, the younger brother of a close friend, jumped at the opportunity.
He understood. He was a soccer guy, too.
So, we drove to the game. Parked at Giants Stadium. Sat in the upper deck and
watched Bulgaria score late goals in the 75th and 78th minute to stun a defending
champion that had reached the previous three finals.
At the time, I had no idea Lori had any interest in soccer or me. I quickly found out. Two
weeks later, I had an extra ticket at the Beacon to see a new band that was just
beginning to catch on: The Counting Crows. I shot my shot.
We’ve been together ever since. And every four years, she reminds me of the first date
we could have had.
