We Needed This World Cup
Even more than we realized.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Seattle so alive.
This past Friday, we didn’t have tickets to the U.S. Men’s Soccer Team playing Australia in the World Cup but that didn’t stop us — or the rest of Seattle. On this Juneteenth in the year 2026, we all flooded into the streets to forget our squabbles and troubles and cheer for our American boys.
It was an unusually brilliant day of sunshine and warm temperatures in this often rainy and dark city.
And boy did the Emerald City shine on Friday.
But First We Had to Get to the Stadium Area
My wife and I took the light rail — and 2.5 hours before game time, at our underground neighborhood station in northern Seattle, a very full train car pulled up. Some folks might have been daunted but I’ve ridden the packed trains in Tokyo and I grew up riding the subway in New York City.
I was getting on that train.
I pushed my way into the sea of tightly-packed bodies, but my wife (behind me) said, “I can’t fit. I’m still in the doorway!” So I politely pushed again (“Sorry! Trying to fit in!”) and found enough space so she just barely cleared the doors.
It was so tight that you could tell exactly who forgot deodorant that morning (I was looking at you, tall man in front of me) but everyone was SO happy that nothing really seemed to matter. A few yellow-shirted Aussies on the train chanted “Aussie! Aussie! Aussie” … only to find no one responding with “Oi Oi Oi.”
A young dark-haired woman near me yelled, “Yay, U.S.A.!” And then she said more somberly, “Said no one about our country ever.”
I smiled but I felt sad, too, because I thought, “This young gal doesn’t know what it’s like to be proud of her country.”
Because if you don’t have a few white hairs at your temple like me, you may not be old enough to remember when America was the good guys. You can’t remember back when we responded to calls for help from the world instead of bullying our way around the world.
You may not really understand why some of us still get choked up when we hear the National Anthem — because you’ve lived for the last 10 years in a country where the flag is used as a threat and the anthem gets twisted into a measure of right-wing devotion.
So maybe the World Cup came to America at just the right time.
Game Time!
Off the subway, we chose Pioneer Square for the enormous watch party.
Pioneer Square is close to the soccer stadium but it’s also the historic heart of Seattle — and the origin of the phrase “Skid Row” where loggers used to skid giant trees down the hill to the Seattle port.
Those timber boats left long ago but the hard time hobos (usually) remain in this area, along with a vibrant community of artists in old brick buildings. This neighborhood holds restaurants, coffee shops, book stores — and a whole lot of character.
We were so close to the soccer stadium that, at the end of the national anthem, we watched the military helicopters fly over the stadium on screen … and then continue right over our heads.
At our halfway point on this huge tree-filled square, we often didn’t have a great view of the large screen showing the game but, surprisingly, that didn’t matter.
What mattered was that we were all together as Americans.
What mattered was that we were standing shoulder to shoulder with our fellow Americans, yelling for a sport that some think isn’t very American — in a city that some decry as the most liberal in America — and we were all cheering for our America to win.
Our America
The one that all of us own. The one that all of us belong to. The one that I raised my right hand to 40 years ago and swore to defend to the best of my abilities against all enemies, foreign and domestic
The America that I once pledged my life to.
That America.
The one that cares for all of its citizens, not just the wealthy. The one that keeps its promises to the elderly and the children and the sick and the veterans that stood up and said “Take us. We’ll defend the others.”
That America.
The one that we can be, if we all work together. The one that welcomes immigrants and new ideas and hard work. The one that is without kings — and where the only queens we know are welcoming and self-appointed.
That America.
Even in these dark days, I have hope that enough of us still believe in that America. And I could see that America again during the World Cup.
“U.S.A.! U.S.A.!”
And, as we stood shoulder to shoulder in that crowd on Friday in Pioneer Square, the U.S. scored a goal. The crowd erupted and we all chanted “U.S.A.! U.S.A.!” in a way that wasn’t a threat.
It wasn’t code for MAGA
It wasn’t a euphemism for our dismal and mean president
It wasn’t code for anything
This “U.S.A.! U.S.A.!” was just an expression of love.
Love for our soccer team. Love for the land of the free and the home of the brave. Love for all of us together.
Love for human beings living free.
And there — in the middle of a pack of people in a big American city that the right-wing television pundits deplore — I was reminded once again that the American people can come together and that we are not done yet.
I know we can find our way back.
I could feel the hope in Seattle on a brilliant day that I’ll never forget.
And then our team won. 😎
Fun Fact: I was at the World Cup match in Palo Alto, CA on July 4, 1994 when the U.S. played Brazil. I’m not a big soccer fan but we lived a few hours away and managed to scalp tickets right after the match started. Fun! But that game doesn’t hold a candle to what happened in Seattle on June 19th. Not even close.
So true! Between this, the tartan army in Boston and the Obama library event I feel like we have turned a corner for the better!
Loved reading your recap of the day 🇺🇸
Preach, Lis! So good. ❤️🇺🇸❤️🇺🇸