It Was Great

Sorry if anyone caught the earlier version of my previous post. I tried, rather unsuccessfully, to give a brief update of the night but ended up writing a bunch of nonesense.
Anyway, I'm about to leave Germany for Amsterdam and Belgium for a few days, and I'm wrapping up a column that should appear shortly in the Bulletin.
As for the match, the pain was terrible, but never in my life will I experience something like it again. I met people from all over the country and the world -- my pictures with the Czech fans are great -- and the stories are sure to never leave me.
There was singing, chanting, celebrating and drinking. The sense of national pride was unlike anything I've ever seen. And although we were left in a most disappointed state, a large number of followers returned to our original gathering place near the Gelsenkirchen train station to turn our frustration into passionate cheers for Ghana to pull off the upset against Italy, which did not happen.
Once again, there was singing, chanting celebrating and drinking.
Aside from my friend -- who I lost for about 20 minutes upon walking off the train to head toward the stadium, a product of posing for pictures with a few Czech fans -- I spent the late hours of Monday with a guy from Cleveland, a girl from Wisconsin, a few of her friends from the German exchange program they were on, an Englishman who shared my feelings regarding how talented a striker Brian McBride is, and a group of Czech fans who taught me some celebratory dance that has you constantly jumping up and down. Truly, it was a special night, although beign at a bar helped all of us make good attempts to forget parts of the festivities.
I even saw a man wearing a Brazil jersey trade his shirt for the one being worn by a Czech fan, who pumped his fist upon completing the transaction. The swapping of shirts off one's back is tradional for players after both internatonal and professional matches, but I wasn't expecting it among supporters at a bar, although it made for a memory I won't soon forget.
Another highlight was when a German man traded me a Euro for a $1 U.S. bill he so desperately wanted to show his children. At least that's what a woman told me he wanted to do with it. Hey, I ended up making 20 or so cents on the deal.
The man, quite drunk when I walked into the bar at around 11 p.m., then began to chant capitalism and democracy. Quite a scene.
I have no doubt that the rest fo my trip will continue to fill my memory banks, but I know the night and events of the first match I ever saw in the World Cup will be with me forever.
Lastly, the big winners of the day were not the Czechs, but rather the owners of Gelsnekirchen's Hibernia Brauhaus, which was chosen by Sam's Army to be the gathering place for U.S. fans prior to the match. When we arrived, the only way to enter the bar was to run up a short flight of steps and through a series of American flags. There were at elast 300 people outside the place, and locals were even takign pictures of our celebration, another sign the U.S. soccer program is in full swing.
The bar, which served excellent beer, was difficult to move within for a good four hours and I saw at least 20 boxes of new glasses -- either four or six per box -- being opened in order to meet the demand.
They're probably still counting the money.