It’s a Culture That We Can All Share
As Thursday night bleeds into Friday morning, as Brazil and England fight through the most anticipated match of the monthlong World Cup tournament, Zabumba, a small, colorful dining and dancing place in Culver City, played host to fans wearing the colors of Brazil’s flag.
Four miles away, in a drizzle fit for London, a hundred or more mostly men pack a place called the Cock N Bull Pub. They drink Guinness by the gallon and cuss colorfully at their beloved English players and the confoundedly creative Brazilian opponents.
The plan is to watch a half of Friday’s World Cup quarterfinal at a place where Brazilians have gathered and then to watch the second half at a place where Englishmen have gathered.
Zabumba, a small, yellow building with a gated courtyard outside and a small, cozy dining room/dance floor/bar inside, is owned by Monica Burgos. Burgos is an enthusiastic woman from Rio de Janeiro who came here 12 years ago and opened her small club on Venice Boulevard in Culver City eight years ago.
Zabumba exudes an energy that is different from our normal sporting events. Laker fans do not gather four hours before a game to dance a sensual rumba or a sweaty meringue. Five hours before the game, Nikki Collins, Sania Seedat and a group of friends have commandeered a table near one of the four televisions that are set up around the room.
Collins and Seedat are West Los Angeles residents and have no particular ties to Brazil. But they have fallen under the spell, Seedat says, of the beauty, spirit and creativity of Brazilian soccer. “It is soccer from the heart,” Seedat says. “Sport from the heart.”
An hour and a half before the game, more fans are standing outside Zabumba than inside. They are pressed against the front door, hoping to be the first in if someone leaves.
Brian and Danielle Schween have driven from Tustin. Danielle is Brazilian. She came here four years ago to go to school and now she is married to Brian. California is home but Brazilian soccer is her lifeblood. As a band plays a rowdy rhythm and the room grows hotter by the second, Danielle pulls Brian from his chair to dance. “I get my energy from the music,” Danielle says.
As the televisions, tuned to the Spanish broadcast, fill with Ronaldo, Rivaldo and Ronaldinho, the Brazilian heroes, the band stops and silence takes over. It is serious now. And when Michael Owen scores the first goal in the 25th minute for England, the happy colors of Brazil seem out of place.
A few moments later, two members of the L.A. Fire Department enter the room. Anyone not sitting must leave and the people standing outside must go away. Police stand watch. Everyone obeys. If it’s be tossed or sit, sitting happens and so it is as if a giant pogo stick is unleashed when Rivaldo scores the tying goal during the extra time before the first half ends.
At the Cock N Bull, there had been a collective groan, Tony says, when Rivaldo scored that goal. Tony wears an Owen jersey and says his last name doesn’t matter. “I’m just a subject of the English football team,” he says.
Tony’s mood blackens further when, five minutes into the second half, Brazil goes ahead on a free kick from Ronaldinho.
Nervous men in tight England T-shirts pace outside the pub, smoking cigarettes in silence.
Inside the windows are steamed, the air heavy with the sweat of fear and disappointment. The TVs were tuned to ESPN and the English-language broadcast here. As the English failed to capitalize after Ronaldinho was sent off and the Brazilians had to play 10 against England’s 11, the cursing became louder. The final seconds ticked away on Brazil’s 2-1 victory.
Back in Culver City, with the police and firemen gone, the Zabumba hopefuls who had been shooed away returned from hiding. They waved Brazilian flags and honked car horns. An angry neighbor stuck her head out a window and yelled, “Shut up!” Someone shouted back, “Let us be happy.”
There was one thing, though, that was the same at Zabumba and the Cock N Bull. Whenever the TV announcers, be it the Spanish or English broadcasts, promoted the Germany-U.S. match, a chant went up, “U.S.A., U.S.A.”
The U.S. team has become a common denominator in our multicultural landscape. Spanish-language broadcasters and fans have taken to calling the U.S. “el equipo de todos nosotros.” The team of all of us. That’s a triumph almost as good as winning the World Cup. Almost.
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Diane Pucin can be reached at diane.pucin@latimes.com
