WORLD CUP USA ’94 / MEMORIES : MIKE DOWNEY : His Month on the Road Became a Virtual Barnes-Storming Tour
A round the World Cup in 31 days:
June 17--I go to Chicago. I am certifiably one of my newspaper’s 99 part-time soccer correspondents, including our regular international football guy, our regular American football guy, our regular World Cup woman, our visiting Rome bureau guy, our Pulitzer Prize-winning guy, our Nobel Peace Prize-winning guy, our Spanish-speaking travel agent, our Irish-speaking editor, our Irish editor’s Spanish-speaking translator, our skiing writer, two hockey writers and our temporary World Cup stand-up comic. We brace ourselves. We place our hands in front of our laps. We begin.
June 18--I go to Detroit. For indoor soccer. Only in America. I suspect soon we will host World Cup skiing indoors.
June 19--The illustrious Simon Barnes of the Times of London refers to soccer as “footy.” This is one of the many reasons why the writing of Simon Barnes of the Times of London is often compared to Hemingway’s best work--Mariel Hemingway’s.
June 20--Belgium plays Morocco in Orlando. But I miss it. Damn. I almost never miss a game between Belgium and Morocco in Orlando.
June 21--Greece goes goal-less.
June 22--We teach that crazy Colombia a thing or two.
June 23--Italy wins. About time.
June 24--Mexico wins. About time.
June 25--The quotable Simon Barnes of the Times of London writes of American columnists’ vain attempts at being “humorists.” Then Simon, cheeky monkey, proceeds to his next column item, “Best Haircuts of the World Cup,” with its simply marvelous reference to Alexi Lalas and his “red Frank Zappa goatee.” Oh, Simon! Oh, gallant keyboard knight! If humor be the song of love, write on!
June 26--USA loses. About time.
June 27--Greece still goal-impaired.
June 28--Some rubber-legged Russian puts five past Cameroon keeper. Cameroon coach considers using radical, new, one-player, 10-goalie defense.
June 29--Maradona squirts away Argentina’s chances.
June 30--Greece lays geese eggs.
July 1--The devilishly handsome, Cardinal Richelieu-goateed Simon Barnes of the Times of London, regarded around the world as the Benny Hill of soccer journalism, desperately tries to think of something frightfully clever to write next, so he can really impress the Queen.
July 2--Chicago’s last game. Crazy man with lawn mower is found in Marshall Field’s, going in circle after circle after circle. . . .
July 3--Brazilians say: “Yes, we fear the American players tomorrow. What were their names again?”
July 4--We get our butts Bebeto’d right out of the tournament.
July 5--Television ratings out. Smaller than COURT-TV, bigger than Chevy Chase.
July 6--Rest Day. I take out garbage.
July 7--Rest Day. I write new garbage.
July 8--Rest Day. I take out fresh garbage.
July 9--Either Netherlands loses at Meadowlands or Meadowlands loses at Netherlands, I forget.
July 10--Deutschland, Deutschland, guten abend.
July 11--The latest dispatch from Simon Barnes of the Times of London exposing the incredible number of American athletes who resemble members of the Zappa family is pushed back to Page 3 to make room for the more important DIANA PHOTOGRAPHED WITH NO SHOES, PRINCE CHARLES TALKS ON PRINCESS TELEPHONE, QUEEN SEEN SELLING CROWN IN PAWN SHOP, ENGLAND CRICKET EVEN WORSE THAN ITS FOOTBALL headlines on Page 1.
July 12--Roberto Baggio ready to play, despite long black beaver tail protruding from back of skull.
July 13--Roll over Bulgaria, and tell Stoitchkov the news.
July 14--Someone wakes Brazil goalkeeper, tells him yesterday’s game is over and he can leave.
July 15--Italy team eats lunch, says California pizza “tastes like Baggio’s hair.”
July 16--Brazil trains to Xuxa music. Xuxa says she’s xextatic.
July 17--Game over. World Cup over. Last one out of Pasadena, turn off the smog.
