Nothing cures jet lag like having to wake up early and making the two-hour drive to Rustenburg for the USA vs England match. Especially when the match isn’t until 8:30 p.m. and you realize you realize, once again, you won’t be getting to bed until 2:30 a.m.
We were fortunate enough to be able to follow Mrs. Davies, the lady who has generously been putting us up for these past few days, to a place just outside of Rustenburg where we were meeting up with some friends for lunch before heading to the game. Being able to follow someone certainly helped take a load of stress off and was a nice opportunity to get some more wheel time and settle in to this whole driving on the wrong side of the road and wrong side of the car business without having to worry about where I was going. Of course, we were following two ladies and had they not pulled over every ten minutes or so to inform us of how much more lost we were than the previous time they told us, we would have had no idea we were lost at all.
One of the things I found rather exciting, though it’s truly quite sad, about taking the scenic route was my first exposure to slums. I’m strangely fascinated by them. These shacks are built out of left over scraps of metal and wood, they have no electricity or running water (at least I can’t imagine they do, I sure as hell wasn’t about to pull in and ask them for a tour,) and are smaller than my bedroom. Knowing that a family lives in there sure puts things in to perspective about how well off some of us are. Especially once we got to the house where we were meeting up with our friends for lunch: inside a gated community, floor to ceiling retractable walls, a beautiful back patio sitting just off the fairway of a golf course, giant wall mounted HD flat-screen, and a wet bar with multiple bottles of Johnny Walker Blue Label. Unfortunately I didn’t have the nerve to pour myself a drink. What really got me about the slum village places we had passed through were the people walking around inside some of those village; dressed in pristinely clean and fashionable clothes, smiling, laughing and appear as happy as can be. I’m freaking out that I’ve yet to find free wifi in the past two days, I can’t even imagine not having electricity to be able to keep my laptop charged – or not having lappy at all.
The town of Rustenburg looked like a city that was put inside a time capsule around the 1950’s to 1960’s (and I say this based off of movies I’ve seen set in this time period, I know I’m old but I’m certainly not that old.) We were tired, but jacked off adrenaline realizing the fact that we were not only in Africa, and at the World Cup, but also on our way to watch England play the USA for the first time in 60 years! So, we were on a mission to get to the game and since the stadium was about 13 km north east of the actual town of Rustenburg we just drove straight through the main drag and didn’t stop.
Once we finally found the park and ride lot we claimed the second to last spot. A bit of advice learned from that adventure, never trust that the pack of cars ahead of you knows where they’re going; stick to what the signs tell you. Once we parked and rode the walk from the drop off point to inside the stadium was nothing shy of a Mecca. Carlos was shedding clothes and claiming his armpits were on fire having to make the entire trip on crutches. Once inside we found our seats and realized how epic they actually were. Eleven rows from the pitch, just off the half way line and so close to the beer vendor and mens room that we barely had to get out of our seats! It was exciting seeing all the players that we’ve seen on TV and in pictures for the past few years in the true flesh and blood. And after looking through the pictures I took at the game I’m beginning to think my obsession with Wayne Rooney, the player whom I dubbed as the “Best Player in the English Premiership” yesterday before escalating to the “Greatest Multi-Celled Organism Ever” today, might be bordering on the unhealthy side of the spectrum.
The game was fun, the result was tolerable, I obviously would have liked to see The Greatest Multi-Celled Organism Ever score rather than having a fairly quiet game, but I guess that just means I’ll need to go to England next year and watch him play for the mighty Manchester United at Old Trafford. The guy to my left was a Limey and certainly passed my test without me ever having to ask him any questions. I’d said I watched more English Premiere League soccer than anything else to which he asked me, “So do you like any of these over-paid assholes then?” Before going on to admit he was a rugby fan and soccer players were nothing more than celebrities. Steven Gerrard’s fourth minute goal was nothing shy of brilliant, while Dempsey’s happened with an awful lot of luck, thanks in part to the English keeper. Either way, the result was pleasing.
Check out the full photo album here.
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