A Sense of Disappointment

That's what the Brazilian women are giving off these days. They seem disappointed, some of them a little bit, some of them a lot. It's like they think that I'm the one, the man who won't spend the entire World Cup watching the games. They're wrong. The woman Saturday afteroon, who wanted me to miss the Argentina-Ivory Coast game to see her, was disappointed that I, too, place a higher priority on the World Cup. And the woman yesterday, who offered to "keep me company" while I watched the games was disappointed that I actually wanted to watch the games, even while she was in my apartment. Fortunately, there was an hour between games, and then time unlimited after the second game, and ultimately we were both satisfied.

The US plays today, and tomorrow Brazil kicks off. Which, of course, marks the real beginning of the tournament. From what I hear, even the busses stop running when Brazil plays. I know Brazilians, not just the two women mentioned in the first paragraph, who don't like soccer. At all. I wonder what they do when Brazil plays. Stores close. Offices close. Maybe I'll call one of these friends tomorrow to find out what they are doing. But I can only call during halftime.

It's like heaven, having three games per day. But it's tough to get anything done. (It would be easier if I didn't insist on watching every game, I know.) I do my grocery shopping late at night, buying only food that I can cook quickly in the hour between games.

Anyway, halftime is over, and I need Australia to score two in the second half.