Now, and soccer

I was just about to write how quiet it was. Both doors are wide open after a warm almost to the point of dragging out the fan day. One cat is sprawled on the (newly vacuumed, I'm pleased to report) carpet; the other is outside on the front porch tracking the activity of the birds overhead. The birds were the only things making noise in the dimming twilight until an helicopter flew over and a few cars drove by. Still, this is a favorite time of time of day. Most people have arrived home, so not many cars are on the street. It's cooling off. There are three or four kinds of birds trilling in the trees. I've turned off the television after watching the NewsHour. Occasionally I hear the clink of dinnerware as a neighbor family finishes their evening meal, then the voice of a child who has come outside to play for a few more minutes before it's too dark.

I thought I'd take this (rare) opportunity to write about a sports event I watched yesterday: the U.S. men's soccer team vs. Uruguay in a pre-World Cup match. I happened to catch the very exciting second goal by DaMarcus Beasley on the U.S. team.

Chevrolet Man of the Match Beasley was dangerous all afternoon, recording the game-winning goal in the 40th minute. Only a great save from Uruguayan goalkeeper Gustavo Munua in the second half kept Beasley’s name from appearing on the scoresheet a second time. Beasley helped create the first goal, earning a corner kick with his work on the left flank. Agoos curled the ensuing free kick to the near post, where an onrushing Tony Sanneh nodded the ball just under the bar into the upper left corner of the net.

Beasley did all the work alone on the second goal, intercepting an errant pass in the midfield and carrying the ball into the penalty box. Beasley cut the ball around defender Gonzalo Sorondo and fired a shot that Munua saved. Beasley jumped on the rebound and knocked it home before going to celebrate his second career goal with Sam's Army in one end of RFK Stadium. (From the U.S. Soccer's World Cup 2002 Plus site.)

The advent once again of the World Cup reminds me that it was two World Cups ago that I moved down here and witnessed the post-final match euphoria in the the streets of my city when Brazil beat Italy. (Speaking of helicopters overhead, my apartment at the time was directly under the departure flight path of the helicopters that covered the matches. So, each night after a match finished—around 11:00 PM—a convoy of helicopters flew over. Just as one got out of earshot, another one would drone into hearing range.)