It is customary to start any post about the World Cup by stating that you should care. We won't do that. Y'all know what a big deal it is and how pretty much every part of the world that isn't Canada or the U.S. is effectively shutting itself down for a month to watch. Besides, we have a feeling part of the reason soccer has never really taken off here is because too many people tell you that you have to care. So getting into soccer becomes something like eating broccoli or the metric system or any other things you are told to do because it's good for you. As a result, people here start getting all huffy and get all "nuh-uh, we're 'merican's damnit. We like our sports with non-stop action, lots of beer commercials, and scoreboards telling us when to cheer and when not to cheer, you Euro Weenie One World-ist!"
Instead, we're going to try and get you into it by showing you just how much fun the World Cup can be. Picture it not as something you have to do because you have to be like everyone else, but as, well, kind of a way to travel around the world in a month without ever having to leave the city.
Here's what we mean. If there's a big game involving Italy, go to an Italian cafe in North Beach (Steps of Rome is SFist's fave place to watch the Azzurri) and watch the game from there. Places like Steps will wheel out a big screen TV and the game will be watched be actual, real Italians (not Italian wanna-bes who often frequent those places) who will spend the entire game talking Italian, drinking espressos, and genuflecting at the TV screen (we've seen it). Or for a big Brazilian game, go to a Brazilian restaurant/bar (Canto do Brasil or the South Beach Cafe might do the trick) and enjoy the drums, the passion, the scantily clad Brazilian women. And you have to go to an English Pub (Mad Dog in the Fog is THE place to be) to watch a big English match. One of our favorite sporting moments, like ever, was watching the epic England/Argentina game in '98: the game started at 12, we got there at 10, the bar was packed tight by 11, and by 11:30 the Brits started singing every English soccer song known to ever exist. It was more fun watching that game than any big Niners or Raiders game, partly because if we could squint we could easily picture ourselves in a London pub at that very moment.
So you see how this works? For a French game, go to the Cafe Claude or Cafe Bastille and drink wine with real French people. Grab a cerveza and a burrito and watch a Mexican game in the Mission (trust us-- the Mission will get pretty raucous if the Mexicans win a big game). For a game involving the Swiss, have fondue at the Matterhorn. Actually, we have no idea if the Matterhorn will get itself up for the World Cup, but you get our point.
But what if, you may be asking, it's a game involving, like, Togo or Croatia or Australia and it's not totally obvious where to go? Well, first off, any ole sports bar will do, although any with an English/Irish bent will better than your average American bar. The Mad Dog is usually a pretty good place to go for just about any game, especially involving European teams.
If that doesn't work for you, just follow this handy-dandy guide to Who Roots For Whom, in order of preference. This should point you in the general direction of which kind of bar to go to:
People Root For-
1) Country
2) Continent*
3) Country that Colonized Them**
4) Brazil
*With the exceptions of Germany and Argentina. Everyone hates them
**People will vociferously root against countries that colonized them when they play each other (Portugal vs. Angola should be a real barn-burner) but will root for the colonizing team when they play anyone else because of the close ties held between the countries.
So, if it's a game involving an African country, maybe try the Baobab. Or a game involving the Dutch, any ole Irish bar. And if you want to root for Germany, do so in the privacy of your own home.
See, what makes the World Cup, and soccer in general, isn't necessarily the game, but the passion involved in it. We played soccer throughout our youth (not well, we might add) but it wasn't until going to Europe that we got into it. We've been awakened by rowdy, singing fans in some small Italian city whose soccer team was getting onto the train in the middle of the night for a big game in Rome. We've watched the '98 finals on a beach in Tel Aviv with hundreds of Israelis. And we've stood on a table at Oktoberfest and sang "Ole" with at least a thousand or so drunken revelers.
That's why you should watch. Not because you should necessarily, but because it's fun as hell. And because, really, it is kind of lame we're the only country not to care.
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