Star-Spangled Banter

“Don’t stand there.”

“Why not.”

“The U.S. team is going to walk right past you.”

“So?”

“So, in a few minutes, it’s going to be raining.”

I laughed. I stayed.

But my friend was right. In a few minutes, as the U.S. soccer team walked off the Coliseum field after its 1-0 loss to Mexico on Sunday, it was raining.

Raining disrespect. Raining anger. Raining what could easily be interpreted as hatred.

From out of the stands soared plastic bottles filled with water, crashing on the U.S. players’ heads, splashing and bouncing at their feet.

What followed was an avalanche of water and beer-filled cups, a lemon, a giant empty box, more water, more bottles.

The garbage covered the U.S. team like an ugly blanket. It was accompanied by a chorus of words screamed in Spanish.

It was enough to make a man want to scream back.

God bless America. Land where American soccer players, playing a game for their country in their country, are treated like the enemy.

*

“Why would any Mexican living here not like the United States? This country has given us everything our country could not give us.”

The question posed by renowned Univision anchorman Jorge Ramos on Monday afternoon was a good one.

Why, indeed, would about 91,000 of the 91,225 fans in the Coliseum on Sunday act as though they hated the United States? Why would U.S. citizens and residents blow horns and boo loudly enough to drown out the U.S national anthem?

Why would those who attend U.S. schools and receive U.S. medical care feel it necessary to pelt any U.S. player running near the stands with water and beer?

It’s one thing to cheer for Mexico, the native country of many of those 91,000 fans.

It’s another thing to boo and ridicule the U.S., the home country of those same people.

Ramos laughed. The question, you see, was a rhetorical one.

“Of course those people don’t dislike the United States,” said Ramos. “This is not about politics, it’s about soccer. You have to make that distinction.”

Sure, but it’s tough when you are sitting in your country watching your country’s flag get jeered by fellow countrymen.

“What happened at the Coliseum Sunday is exactly what happens in games at Mexico City,” Ramos said. “Throwing things, the violence, that is not good but . . . but being loud and cheering for our team, that is one way we feel truly Mexican.”

Ramos, a former resident of Los Angeles who is based in Miami, put it another way.

“When the Dolphins play the Cowboys in Miami, people who cheer for the Dolphins aren’t perceived as being anti-Texan,” he said. “It is the same thing here. You have to understand, it’s nothing against the U.S. It could have been any opponent. This is just sports.”

Sure, but it’s tough after watching a U.S. player hit with a water balloon while preparing for a corner kick in an American stadium.

“I would have no problem with Mexican Americans who wanted to support the U.S. team,” said Kasey Keller, U.S. keeper. “After all, you live in America. Why don’t you become American?”

That is the larger question facing everyone involved in Sunday’s unsettling afternoon.

When it comes to sports, when do Mexican Americans begin giving more weight to the American part? Or will they ever?

The answer is not as simple as it seems.

Does U.S. citizenship or residence, demand loyalty to everything American? Of course not.

Without hassle, we buy foreign-made cars and watch foreign-made TVs and generally give jobs to the hardest workers, no matter what their nationality.

This is true even in sports. It wasn’t that long ago that half the country was secretly hoping the U.S. basketball team lost in the Summer Olympics just to see the expression on the face of pompous John Thompson.

Does living in America mean you must “become” American?

Not necessarily.

Seeking an economic and physical comfort zone, many newly arrived Mexicans move into Mexican neighborhoods, where they continue living the Mexican culture.

A colleague spoke of Mexican American friends who have lived for years in Los Angeles with established jobs and residences, yet never need to speak a word of English.

For those people to leave home on a Sunday afternoon and drive to a stadium and cheer for the U.S. against the foundation of their daily lives, that would be silly.

This city likes to think of itself as a melting pot. But, as Sunday proved, it is more like an ice tray, the nationalities divided into little compartments, living side by side.

Some days, everyone is popped out and thrown together in a joyful clatter.

Other days, everyone remains frozen in place.

Sunday was one of those other days.

That’s not wrong, it’s just life in a democracy.

What is wrong is when Pat Orland, who brought her son and his friend from Sherman Oaks to cheer the U.S., can’t hear the national anthem.

“It’s very strange,” she said. “It feels like I’m in a foreign country.”

And it’s wrong when the U.S. players are subjected to a barrage of potentially dangerous flying objects by U.S.-based fans.

This would be the same if those fans were white, black, brown or green.

To cheer somebody simply because of his nationality is fine.

To ridicule somebody simply because of his nationality is wrong.

You’d think everybody in this town would know that by now.