What day is it!?!

The days start to blur together, as one moment a team celebrates a victory and an advance to the next round, only to pack their bags and make the trip home a few days later.

Having said goodbye to big names such as France and Italia before the 2^nd round could even begin and sending home the Americans and Britts on the 1^st weekend of round of 16 things are really starting to get exciting now.

Nadia went to the Netherlands Cameroon game at the CPT Stadium last week and left me an orange shirt with a note “in case you need something orange to wear tonight” – so naturally i once again put on an unflattering colour to support a team that wasn’t even mine to start with.

On Friday afternoon i went to Beleza (my home away from home) to support the Portuguese in their battle with Brazil (1stly because H had bet a 100 on the Brazilians and I am taking every chance I get to get him excited about soccer, so I thought a friendly rivalry on Friday was appropriate, and secondly because the brilliant people at Beleza are proud Portuguese supporters and I wanted to join them in the spirit.) It was almost a disastrous outing because owner Ron almost kicked me out thanks to my diss of the Italian team the day before. Touchy subject when your team is the defending champion – who goes home in the first round. I do apologise Ron, sometimes my excitement of silly things make me say the wrong thing. My veg curry was exceptionally hot on Friday eve, and i think we are now even...

The game was pretty boring, and i have nothing to say about a 0-0 draw... (yaaaawn!)

Saturday i decided to take a day off from soccer as i drove a single speed bike through the windy Woodstock to hand out free art in the papergirl initiative, awesome experience, read more here – and then took a drive to Stellenbosch to watch the boys skate at the son skate park.

Sunday was GERMAN day
– as the BIG match drew closer we made our maiden trip to the grand parade fan zone – what a brilliant experience... the place was packed with German and English fans and a lot of passionate South Africans. It was nice to see locals in Bafana shirts or with SA flags painted on their faces, supporting either the Germans or the English.

And what a game. Karma got back at the English as we saw the flipside of the events of the 1966 SWC final when a goal that clearly crossed the line wasn’t awarded. But the Germans crushed them either way: 4 – 1 is a win you can hardly argue with.

This was always gonna be my day to spend with my best mate, lets just call him K. A friend since high school days, this passionate German supporter has so much love and respect for his German team that he has swept up a whole bunch of mates, and we were all there dressed in our black, red and yellow to show our support. He had JUST returned with a fresh round of beers when Deutschland scored their 2^nd goal, and in our excitement we spilled half of it on a family in front of us. Luckily when Dad turned around he had a German flag on his cheek and quickly forgave us with a big smile! Lucky for us...

Today I will return to the fan park, in Nadia’s orange, to show some Dutch courage and support... It’s the tall men, and the fact that i kind of understand their silly language, that swings favour their way.
But my money is still on ze zermans at the end of the day, and i feel very good about that...

Waking up from a good dream, still smiling...

You know when you have a really amazing dream and then you wake up from it, to the real world, to the fact that you have to get up and go to work... But the dream was so nice that it makes your whole day easier to take on, you still go to work with a smile...

Well that is how i felt when our boys beat the French, even though it wasn’t enough to take them to the next round. The dream is over, but I am still glad i had it, and it has left me proud and smiling.

Yes Bafana is out of the World Cup and we all need to pick a ‘second team’ now – although i am sure most people had one from the start – but they boys did really well and made us all VERY proud to be South African. They played with all their hearts on Tuesday, they showed us all that they were willing to fight for it and we couldn’t really ask much more. If you had told me on the day of the draw earlier this year that we would win one, draw one and loose one to end 3^rd in group A i would have GLADLY taken that. We might be out and there might be fewer SA flags flying high on cars and apartment windows, but we are still in this in a major way – we are hosting this competition and it is only really starting now.

I have been receiving lots of praise from friends all over the world – saying what a stellar job we are doing at hosting this event. Even the Germans, who hosted one of the best in 2006, admit that we are on top form. Tourists love this country, as was evident when i rocked up at Waiting Room just after kick off in the USA - Algeria game yesterday.

I might have mentioned before that I have a couch surfer staying with me for the month. Nadia, a half German-half Dutch girlie who has lived in the USA for over 10 years is in SA to volunteer at a charity – where she has met many other American volunteers. So i went to watch the game with her, secretly wanting to shout for Algeria, as an African Hope... but when i walked into the room full of loud yanks, i kind of changed my mind. For 90 minutes i sat ready with my camera to capture the moment they score, because i knew it would be a passionate celebration. And for 90minutes my camera would turn itself off every time the Americans missed another shot at goal. They had many opportunities (and i don’t think the offside call on the 1^st half goal was correct) but after that they just could not find the target. The Algerian goalkeeper was on TOP form though and it was always going to be tough to get past him. There were many calls of F FIFA and shoot the ref – but when they eventually found the back of the net, in over time, the room erupted.


Shouts of U.S.A, U.S.A!!! U.S.A could be heard for a long time after the final whistle as they spilled out onto the balcony to announce their win to Long Street with the call of the vuvuzela.

This is really good for American Soccer (as i heard one guy say when we left – “a great day for America”) and i think if they take on soccer more seriously in the years following this world cup they will definitely become a force to be reckoned with.

And then it was time for my ‘other team’ to play another African hope. I made my position clear this time though - a Facebook status told the world (or at least my world of 297 friends) where my allegiance lies with the statement: Sorry Ghana, but this is my team, GO GERMANY...

I didn’t really get to watch the game as we had a meeting (another plan for world domination, watch this space) but kept an eye on the screen and was delighted with the results, my boys won, and Ghana still gets to carry the African hope forward... Win-win!

I even planned my outfit yesterday around my team – wore all black all day, but then added my red jacket and yellow bag, to look like a walking German flag...

This competition is only getting started, today Nadia goes to Cape Town stadium to watch the Netherlands (once again making me wish i had bought a ticket), and tomorrow two teams on top form take each other on in what will be one of the most exciting games of the tournament when Brazil plays Portugal.

I’ve put today aside to do some work – it has been way too much play and too little work lately – and I am not planning on leaving the house or turning on a TV today.

Here is to being proud hosts of this momentous tournament. PROST!

Deutschland UPSET(s me)...

And so for the first time since 1986 the Germans lost a game in the 1st round of the World Cup. There. It happened. A record almost as old as I am has been broken. To all those anti the Germans: Enjoy it, celebrate it and get over it.

I think it might just be the wake up call that will fire them on to take it (well I sure hope so, because I did bet H & G hundred bucks each that Deutschland will take the cup – H going for Brazil and G putting his money on the Argentineans)

I had dropped everything and left my proposal for a new client open on my laptop to go watch the lunchtime game with a friend called Adolf (I thought it was only appropriate).
But they weren’t on top form, and they just weren’t on target. Ever. Podolski was striking hard, but never on target, in what turned out to be a pretty average afternoon for him. Average until he missed the penalty, at which point it started to lean more towards poor...

On the other side of the field the –ovic gang (did you notice almost all the Serbian surnames ended in an –ovic, very entertaining for me, as I’ve taken a special interest in surnames from different parts of the world) put on a very dramatic show. While the yellow card ALMOST burned a whole in the ref’s pocket.

But to be fair, the Germans played with 10 men for most of the game, and to hold your line like that still shows great determination and skill.

Completely off the point is another thing that caught my attention. Every time I watch the game on SABC 1 I am greeted by a news desk filled with men (few of whom speak proper English) all dressed the same. At least on Friday it was a little better than that night they all wore little leopard print scarves under their buttoned up shirts...

And so the world cup of upsets and draws continue. I watched so much soccer this weekend that all the games and goals are starting to blend together. But I do know this: big up to the New Zealanders, it is interesting to think of the possibility of the defending champions might be on the first flight back to Italia...

Up the underdog... I love the unexpectedness. Now we just need to see Bafana cause an upset!

WHAT?

l

No i will be the first to admit that that performance by the bafana boys was poor. They looked sloppy, they were too static when they got the ball and the passing and defending man to man just wasn’t there. I will also gladly admit that i don’t really know the rules of football that well. Im a rugby kenner, and while i know when someone is offside and the basic ins and outs... i am not to sure about penalties in and around the goal box, but what happened there just did not seam right!!

Was it really fair to send Kuhne off? To red card our goalie and allow them a penalty kick? Wasnt their striker offside, which should have made all of that redundant? Would a yellow card and the penalty to the offending goalie not have been the better option?

Wow.

That blew my mind. And put me in an entirely negative space for the rest of the game. The competitive Arian in me just could not take it. I was screaming and swearing and insulting players. I am sorry nr 9, you probably didn’t deserve all the nasty things i said, but that (in my mind) unnecessary red card threw us completely off our game, took Pienaar out of the attack and signalled a wave of supporters leaving the stadium. I am as offended by that as by the blatant diving and bad acting from the Uruguay players.

I cant even remember anything else i wanted to blog.

We went to the Adidas venue but (since we first had planned to cook some soup and H took forever to get to my house with the ingredients) we were too late and the lounge was full. So we watched amongst a small but passionate crowd in the Word Of Art studio downstairs, where a massive TV on some crates, a makeshift bar, cardboard couches and a sloppy half time DJ set the scene.

You should go check it out, the pop up store has some dope adidas merch (H if i wasn’t unemployed and i had R850 i would buy you those high tops on the spot – they are sooo you!) the T-shirt exhibition is cool (but can we PLEASE see some fresh artists already – i KNOW FOR A FACT there are some really talented illustrators and artists in this city, but the galleries and clicks always show the same artists’ work and – while i won’t argue that there is some real talent in there – they do all have a very specific style – and to be frank, i am bored of it...) and I am sure it just gets better once you get into the actual 3 stories.

So tonight the call of the Vuvuzela is a little less frequent; the facebook statuses a little more disappointed and even the flags on cars seem to hang limp as the Cape Town wind hides her head in shame somewhere.

Back to the drawing board for Carlos and the boys, but all is not loss, and stranger things than miracles have happened in world cups before.

And hey this is an interesting country; a month ago the bulls played two games in Soweto, tonight Bafana Bafana played at Loftus... The times they really are a changing...

my dutch-german (living in america) flatmate for a month Nadia feeling the gees...

Brazilian flair

I was sitting at Neighbourhood (again)contemplating how i was going to watch this game amongst all the drinking masses while sticking to my no booze plan – when H called with a different plan. So i left the party at the hood very prematurely and took a drive with the boys to Woodstock. We had been invited to watch the game at a friends place, and this i had to see.

In this apartment (where he has been for over a month now) R has a massive flat screen, plugged into his Playstation 3 (his girlfriend) and some very comfy couches (that the boys had to PULL up 3 stories through the balcony door one Saturday cause it was too big for the lift OR the stairway). And that’s about it. A few glasses and his clothes on the floor in the bedroom make up the complete picture. See – buying this TV to be able to play(station) was the 1st priority, eating and sleeping would come after that. Cutlery and crockery i believe is on the cards for month 3.

The boys are all rollerbladers, and before this world cup started i had never watched any sporting match with them (and I’ve known them for about 2 years...) so, i thought to myself, this invitation i could not pass up. I need to see these boys support a soccer match.

And the events that took place were close to miraculous. When we arrived they were watching something on the playstation, and i though it was only while we waited for kick off. But then we realised that the TV had never been plugged into an antenna, and had never been tuned into any station... But the dedication from a bunch of guys - who only ever watch ‘sport’ if it involves chris haffey doing some insane shit on street curbs and rails – to watch a game between two foreign countries was heart warming.

First two of them made the journey to the closest operating supermarket, to buy an extension that will allow us to get the tv plugged into the antenna outlet without moving the whole living room around, AND a little antenna, just in case that didn’t work... and then we spent a good 20minutes looking for SABC 1 and fine tuning the channel.

By the time we got good enough reception (although it still looked like we were watching a game from the 70s and all the little players looked the same, as they blurred across the screen chasing behind a white blob) there was about 15minutes left in the 1st half – and we were amazed to see that the Brazilians weren’t 2 – 0 up already.

So amongst discussions about the political state (or should i say POLICE state) of Korea we watched as those little red dots defended with their lives. And defend they did, as much as the yellow dots tried to show off their famous fancy footwork, there always seemed to be 5 Koreans around them.

The Maicon goal was pure magic though... no longer can anyone complain about the jubelani ball – swing too much? – this is the ball of the future, this ball you can curve into the net from an acute angle behind the back of North Korean goalkeeper ... and after that goal the South Americans were pumped up and ready to score. The individual flair of this team is as brilliant as ever and i would LOVE to see them play a strategic systematic team like the Germans. That well oiled Deutsche machine (its pure engineering and German perfection) has strategy and set plays down better than any team I’ve seen in a while, but it would be very interesting to see them play a charismatic team with the flair and individual brilliance such as the Brazilians.

I have to give it to the People of the Democratic Republic of Korea, as they played for their lives (perhaps literally we joked, you never know with these communists...) and it was an interesting concept to think about these Koreans, whose lives and views are so restricted by their government, being in South Africa, taking part in a World Cup and being exposed to the diversity of the world. It must be especially hard for them to concentrate on Soccer with so much new and strange going on around them.

Anyway, it was lovely to see the spirit of the world cup reaching even the most unlikely of characters, as H admitted to me that that was an interesting game... Tonight we head over to the Woodstock Industrial Centre to join in the Adidas 3 stories. They have some exciting things planned for the month(apparently the perfect mix between art and sport – sounds like my idea of fun) my friend does some live blogging for the events and H had been asked to submit art for an exhibition early in July so we have been meaning to go check it out. For more info visit facebook or pop in at 66/68 Albert Road, Woodstock.

The vuvuzelas have been going off again all morning, the anticipation is in the air as i see everyone has washed, ironed and put on their yellow bafana shirts...

Bring it ON Uruguay, lets see what you got...

and then June 11th 2010 arrived...

So i realise i missed a few days, but I think the whole of SA took the day off on Saturday. After 6 years of anticipation our boys made us proud and we deserved a lazy day. (Read: collective nationwide hangover) And on Sunday I just never got close to an internet connection – as we spent the day outside in the cold, having a braai – just to show that our patriotism was still running high.

So here is how my Bafana Day went down. After I failed to get my hands on a Bafana Shirt (all sold out! awesome news, except for me) in my I'm Loving Cape Town tee-shirt (also very true, especially amidst all the gees) I met up with my buddy M and we made the walk down town from where he lives in Tamboerskloof to Greenpoint / Waterfront.

This is where we would meet our friends (most of whom had to work till lunchtime) and where we wanted to watch the game.

The atmosphere was electric. From 12, when the noon gun set off thousands of vuvuzela calls all around us - you could feel that everyone was, for once, united by one goal. The interesting thing about the call of the vuvuzela is that no matter where or when you blow it; there WILL be at least one answer to your call. We made our way down town amidst armies of people all dressed in yellow. When we realised that the masses outside the MTN tent on Clock Tower Square at the V&A would not allow all of our mates to make it inside with us we managed to hook up a last minute (pimp) table at neighbourhood, our local hang out on Long Street (its good t have connections, thanks Stormy) so we made our way there. I was mesmerised by the hoards of people on the streets, the gees in the air was not something I am used to. I felt like a tourist in my own city, snapping pictures and taking videos everywhere we went...

Long street was amazing as we made our way upstream against a sea of bafana supporters. And that is when my trigger happiness caught up with me and the battery on my camera died, just before we reached our destination...

I have never seen the hood this packed. Everything was yellow and the call of the vuvuzela was ever present. Our front and centre table provided a great spot from where to watch the opening ceremony – a showcase that made me really proud. When TKZee took to the stage the crowd at neighbourhood erupted and everyone was on their feet dancing. Everything, from man’s 1^st steps from Africa to the world to the Dung beetle more popular than R Kelly – South Africa put on a showcase like no other. By the time the national anthems were being sung i had goosebumps EVERYWHERE it was AMAZING being amongst hundreds of proud South Africans. Even my friends who aren’t usually very patriotic and do not support team sports, were in it to win it on Friday.

The game started off slow and a lil messy from our side, it must have been nerves. This is the biggest moment in these boys’ careers, no LIVES. Everything you could ever dream off as a kid kicking a ball around in the dust... Representing your country, at the world cup, in the opening game, on home soil... And when Tshabalala put that Jubulani ball in the corner of the net, I thought we might all just fall thru the floor down into the shops below. I was up on my chair, waving my flag, people were dancing and hugging and screaming and shouting. In that moment, magic was made...

I might be (very) bias, but in my opinion that was one of the best opening goals ever, and the boys really made us proud. From there on it felt almost surreal as we lead the South Americans for the next 25 minutes. Our boys played their hearts out, Khune was a WALL and i think even though the Mexicans got one past him and we drew the match – it was more than good enough for us. Once the game ended the place quickly ran empty, i think everyone was on such a high we all just wanted to get out and onto the streets. Down on Long Street they had clearly stopped traffic access as the street seemed to be one big yellow river of people. The sounds and sights were amazing and as we sped through town H hooting at everything and everyone, including cops and traffic officers, and me blowing his broken vuvuzela with all my lungs, waving the little flag. People were dancing and celebrating everywhere and we got a great view of the fireworks on the parade as we sat in the parking lot at Disa Park (arguably the best view in town).

The boys all came over to my house for a bit of an after party and we continued to listen to the sounds of pride and victory outside. At the end of June 11^th 2010 Soccer had won, Africa had won, and South Africa had shown all her critics what she was capable of. As i scanned thru facebook on my phone i didn’t see ONE negative comment, and it was GREAT to see young opinionated, hard to please, SAFAS so united and proud.

Ayoba Mzansi, Ayoooooba!

(more videos as soon as im at a better internet connection)

one day to go... can you feel it!?!

I live right next to the party engen (capetonians will know what i am talking about – its a 24hr engen petrol station with a woollies food, quick shop and various fast food options – very popular at 4am just after all the clubs and bars close... its where the party continues) its also on a major intersection / traffic light. Yesterday morning we woke up to the sound of vuvuzelas, cars hooting and people screaming like excited school girls – for 2 hours during peak morning traffic this went on non stop! The energy and atmosphere is amazing.

I went for a walk around town to soak it up (and to buy my bafana shirt!) and it seems like every street vendor have exchanged their usual merchandise for flags, scarves and soccer merch.

Ever second car and human being has a SA flag proudly waving

and there are hoards of tourists in the gardens. (mostly Italians – mostly old - boring...)

Six years of planning, marketing and building has boiled down to this moment, and to tell you the truth I don’t want to be anywhere else in the WORLD right now. The weather in Cape Town is AMAzing and the spirit and fever even better.

I am a very active member of couchsurfing, and the german girl who stayed with me a few weeks ago kept telling me how jealous she is, how the spirit and atmosphere would blow us away, how she wished she would be here for it... NOW i understand what she meant. Now i feel it.

You know something big is happening when they switch the lights on to illuminate the mountain at night. Last night we sat on his couch in his flat on the 16^th floor of a tampon tower, facing the mountain, soaking it up while we watched the kick off celebrations live from Soweto, we listened to Sepp thank us and Jacob basically beg us not to rob the tourists and turned the sound down when the black eyed pees started to tell us that tonight was gonna be a good night... We kept an eye on the rest of the concert and turned the sound back on when we needed to figure out if that strange lil blond girl in the grass skirt and zebra (i am guessing) inspired leotard really was shakira (herman: what is she, my brain cannot process this human being... what is that?)

This morning saw the same chaos at my local traffic light, even bIGGER, and i found out it was the DA peoples, showing provincial government is also behind out boys...

every status on my facebook home page is something to do with the world cup, the bafana boys or the atmosphere of being proudly South African...

The day is here, the time is now... Can you FEEL IT?

Welcome to Cape Town – the city by the seaside, put on your dancing shoes – cape town welcomes YOU!

Let the games begin!

I was only 10 years old when we hosted (and WON!!) the 1995 Rugby World Cup. I cannot claim to remember too much about it.
But I remember for instance my dad came home with the joke “Kiwi meat 27-18” the day after Pieter Hendriks ran past David Campese with his fist in the air at Newlands.
I remember watching the boks swimming in that game against the French, chewing off my little nails.
And I remember the final. The goosebumbs after hearing the anthem, seeing President Mandela in the green and gold, and watching that booing fly over Ellis Park. I remember François Pienaar claiming "We didn't have 60,000 South Africans supporting us today - we had 43 million South Africans"...
And i remember the celebrations... Man, do i remember the celebrations...

We had to drop my sister at a bus stop somewhere in suburbia that evening, and i saw masses of people, of all colours and creeds, dancing and singing (mostly Leon Shuster songs and shosaloza) on the streets.

That was the day I fell in love with sport. That was the day that made it clear to me that sport can unite people in ways that very few other things can bring us together.

Thru mutual support for a team people can forget about their differences
Thru pride and joyous celebrations people can forget about their prejudice and barriers.

For years i was the most enthusiastic WP, Stormers and springbok fan EVER. I would make sure my dad took me to Newlands; that my guy friends have a plan for match day and that everyone gets together for the game. I had all the supporter shirts and I wanted nothing more than to be a sports journalist, or the media manager for the Springboks. I wanted to follow that green n gold jersey all over the world and share in its magic.

But times change and so do people and dreams. Now 15 years later my nation stands on the brink of hosting the biggest sporting tournament in the world. We are ready to show the world that we can do anything we put our African minds to... and I once again get that feeling of pride and unity.

As the flags pop up more frequently (I cant think of one place I’ve been in the last month where i did not see an SA flag) and the vuvuzelas start to wake me up on the morning I realise that there is nothing I would like to do more than report on the magic that is going to be happening in SA in the next two months.

This is what it’s all about. Ten years of planning and building, marketing and organising kicks into action on Friday, and I can’t WAIT.