Let's go back 16 years. The 13-year-old me was ready to watch the Cup but with jaded pessimism. With Jim Rome's anti-soccer talk in my ears, I was raised to think soccer was a silly sport. I was an American snob in training and watching the 1998 American team finish dead last made it feel even more like I was right.
I knew the big soccer stars like Ronaldo and Zidane and I became a fan of the bald French goalie Barthez. But I wasn't about to dive deeper in soccer and there was no way I believed America would ever matter since I knew the best soccer talent was worldwide. So I stayed segregated in my growing hoop/pigskin/baseball world.
And here I am now. More geeked for the World Cup than I've ever been. Fully immersed in the previews (hat-tip to my Bro Jackson brethren killing those) and anxious to see Brazil kick it off, while praying the turmoil there doesn't get too overshadowed.
