World Cup fever

These two children joined the many who were cheering from windows and thronging the streets in Florence in 2006 when Italy won the World Cup. (Photo (c) Don Dale)

You can't pick up a newspaper or watch TV this week without seeing coverage of the 2010 Word Cup matches in Cape Town, South Africa.

It was pure happenstance that a friend and I were traveling through Europe when the 2006 World Cup soccer games were being played in Berlin. Neither of us even knew the games were going on until we arrived in London the day before the England team won the game that put them into the final eight.

London was gripped in the throes of World Cup fever. Huge TV screens showed matches at outdoor venues. England was victorious on our second day in London, and the streets were so crowded with flag-waving and body-painted -- and tipsy -- fans that it was at times hard to make one's way. The pubs were so crowded that patrons sporting Union Jack emblems spilled out onto the sidewalks and had to be held back from the streets by police. The fun was contagious. We managed to snag a beer at one overflowing pub. Later, we waited an hour before we found seats for dinner in a raucous restaurant overflowing with celebrants.

Several days later we flew to Florence -- just in time to celebrate an Italy team victory. It was London all over again, but with an Italian twist. Men in medieval costumes, on horseback and carrying enormous banners, rode four abreast that afternoon through the crowds thronging the Piazza della Signoria near the Uffizi Gallery. We ate at an outdoor restaurant that night and watched whole families leaning too far out of ancient second- and third-story windows, cheering and waving. Their enthusiasm was infectious. (The Italy team later won the Word Cup championship for 2006.)

We were being followed by World Cup victories as we traveled.

We arrived in Amsterdam just as the Netherlands team beat Côte d'Ivoire, kicking off another outburst of national pride. At dinner that night at our hotel's enormous beer garden and restaurant, we were surrounded by fans who had watched the game on big-screen TVs and then stayed to cheer the evening away. We socialized with buoyant Dutch men and women seated near us who bought us more beers than we really wanted. But who could refuse such hospitality? Not us.

The British, the Italians and the Dutch love their "football," and their celebrations were spirited, mostly mellow and always gracious. Sure, the crowds at our every stop led to longer-than-normal waits at restaurants and made navigation through the streets sometimes hazardous. But as we were engulfed in each country's national pride, the vacation took on a deeper dimension than we had planned. I wouldn't have missed it for anything.