Even in England, Australia Has a Way of Kicking It

A global city plus an ongoing World Cup equals a hundred pockets of magic, and you never know when you might happen upon one.

So you can watch Brazil finish up against Japan on the TV at the gym, finish a brief conversation about Ronaldo’s plumpness, presume the night’s other match is finished, walk out idly into the piazza as it fades toward sleep at 10 p.m., turn the quiet corner thinking of nothing at all, and ...

An abrupt roar, blaring out of some tavern mid-block.

Passersby stop. Necks crane. Eyeballs peer through the doorway into the throng. The people inside hop up and down. What just happened? The roar persists. The flag in the window has the Union Jack in its corner and the six white stars in its blue field.

Voila, an Australian World Cup pocket, among the world’s first. And in a claustrophobic branch of a hamburger-bar chain. But never mind that, just gawk at those revelers -- you know, those happy sorts who’ve grown up for generations beneath sunshine, beside beaches, far from the lousy world.

Australia had just finished tying Croatia, 2-2, in perhaps the 2006 World Cup’s most epic match, a feast of yellow cards, red cards, theatrics and goals. This might be Australia’s second World Cup ever, and its first in 32 years, and its first with any, you know, goals, but those folk inside the bar know enough to know the non-victory’s import.

Australia will go through, to the second round, to a sumptuous match with Italy on Monday. Squint through to the big screen inside, you can see crestfallen Croats in checkerboard uniforms.

So more people gather on the sidewalk, and a couple in theater finery stops for a grin at the little scene, and some people walk up and ask what’s up, and we’re all looking in as the rowdiness once reserved for rugby or Australian rules football or swimming finds its way to soccer.

To the Socceroos, that nickname of inarguable coolness.

This means Australia’s Dutch coach, Guus Hiddink, will have led Holland’s 1998 team to the semifinals, South Korea’s 2002 team to the semifinals and Australia’s 2006 team to its first knockout stage. It’s 5 a.m. already in Sydney, and somebody at the Morning Herald writes the headline, “WE’VE GOT GUUSBUMPS,” but just now, back on the London sidewalk, you can sense just a mild lull in the roar, as if it’s rearranging itself somehow.

And oh, glory be, here it comes, belting out of the hamburger bar:

“Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda

“You’ll come a Waltzing, Matilda with me ... “

Here’s one American who never discerns whether they’re singing “You’ll” or “Who’ll” and never knows whether the jolly swagman waited by the billabong or till his billy boiled, but I do know one unmistakable effect of Australians’ breaking into that song.

The back of my neck loves it.