I Remember My Location as If It Were All a Dream

Where were you?

I remember where I was when I learned the wife was pregnant for the first time, and what race they were running at Arlington Park. Lost by a nose, too.

I remember where I was when the youngest daughter told me she was getting engaged to the Grocery Store Bagger because I hurt myself falling off the stool.

And 10 or 20 years from now when folks recall where they were when our side stunned the futbol world with a stirring 2-nil win over Mexico in a tension-filled televised World Cup match, I’ll have to explain why I was sleeping.

I just couldn’t bear to watch.

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NOW TO be honest it usually takes something really special to keep my eyes open after 10 p.m., and Sunday night it was just the wife and I in a San Diego hotel room and the TV didn’t have HBO. Frankly, we probably should have checked out.

“I’ll stay up with you and read my book if you want to watch soccer,” the wife said, and there’s something about hotel rooms that makes her wild and crazy like that.

I had something else in mind, of course.

“Why don’t we go to sleep so you’re not crabby in the morning.”

I guess she took my advice because I never heard another word out of her before I dozed off, and I probably would have slept the whole night had it not been for the screaming in the next room.

Someone had scored, and from what I could tell, it was an American, and although I’d rather attend a Dr. Phil seminar with the wife than watch a single minute of soccer, I think every one of us is excited when an American scores at anything. And apparently it was 1-0 in favor of the U.S. soccer team.

Now awake, with my eyes open in the dark, I wondered if we could hold on. I thought about waking up the wife, but I had a feeling there might be a penalty kick involved, and decided to leave her snoring.

And that’s the darn thing about soccer; it can really hurt you. In fact, that’s probably the main reason I’m not interested in the sport--I want to live longer.

When the World Cup began they said a billion people would be watching, but already that number has plummeted to something like 999,999,991. They keep playing this thing much longer and world over-crowding will no longer be a concern.

One person died after a fight over the TV remote control to watch a game. I think back to those nights when I thought about trying to switch from “Felicity” to “The Best Damn Sports Show Period,” and I’m so glad I just left the house instead.

Another person died in a fight after losing a soccer wager, several have succumbed to heart attacks because one of the soccer teams apparently scored two goals in the same game, and the list is even longer of those injured seriously by celebrations gone amuck.

I’ve seen how excited our neighbors Tom & Aida get after a Sparks’ win, so I guess it was a good thing we were staying in a hotel when our guys beat Mexico. We came home to find just a flat tire on the car we left behind, and no sign of any police cars. I worry now, however, about what Tom & Aida might do if we beat the Germans, or worse, I worry now what they might do if we don’t beat the Germans.

I worry now I even know we’re going to play the Germans next.

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THE GROCERY Store Bagger gave me the latest edition of “Soccer Digest” for Father’s Day, and declared himself a diehard soccer fan. I was hoping he was going to declare his undying love for someone else, and make it a real Father’s Day.

“Let me guess,” I told him, “you’ve been a soccer fan ever since Brandi Chastain tore off her top.”

That’s when the daughter piped in: “Wait until Ronaldo takes off his top.”

A cold chill ran down my spine: Imagine having to go to a soccer game some day to watch the grandchildren play. It could be worse, I guess. They could play soccer in the summer, and hockey in the winter.

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THE ANSCHUTZ Empire announced it has pulled out of the football business for the second time because it can’t stomach competition. That’s a shame, because if Phil Anschutz and Tim Leiweke can’t stomach competition, that would have made them ideal owners of the Los Angeles Chargers, who have proven consistently over the years they can’t handle competition.

Now we’re supposed to believe, and blame, the Coliseum for forcing the Anschutz Empire to call it quits.

I believe it’s all part of a plan to rally support for the Anschutz project, turning politicians and the NFL against the Coliseum and then uniting them behind Leiweke.

I don’t believe Leiweke is finished with football.

Some time after November, when Councilman Mark Ridley-Thomas leaves office, and the Chargers have done their stadium dance with San Diego officials, look for L.A. Mayor Jim Hahn to invite/plead with the Anschutz Empire to re-enter the football market and save the day.

I’d like to know if the Anschutz Empire is still holding onto the land options for the football stadium. That would mean they’re still in the football business despite what they say publicly. Wouldn’t that be a shock to learn Leiweke & Co. weren’t telling the truth all along?

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TELL ME, is there any athlete more annoying in all of sports than Sergio Garcia preparing to hit a golf shot?

Jack Haley talking basketball on Fox doesn’t count. He’s an ex-athlete.

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TODAY’S LAST word comes in e-mail from Samuel S:

“How come you haven’t written anything about the hookers at that golf course in Norco?”

I see hookers on every course I play; I don’t think they’re just in Norco.

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T.J. Simers can be reached at t.j.simers@latimes.com.