I moved to Milwaukee in late-summer2008. While walking down Kinnickinnic Avenue I saw the Highbury Pub and did a doubletake. I could not quite believe that a football bar was literally around thecorner. The very existence of such an establishment pleasantly shocked me. Inmy subsequent, myriad visits, it was impossible to ignore the diversity ofpeople the pub attractedall ages, all interests, all nationalities, allsharing the same passion.
In Italy, footballhas even changed the way Sundays are experienced in the Catholic capital of theworld: Church is important, but the afternoon match surpasses the sacred. As Igrew olderand I grew accustomed to the States after my move to the Midwest atthe age of 16Fiorentina, my hometown’s team, gradually carved its way into myheart and football as a whole has become ritual for me.
Every weekend (and evenduring the week), first as a patron and now as a bartender, I get to experiencea ragtag collection of internationals cheering on their respective teams fromall corners of the globe. Spend a few hours, if not a few minutes, at the barand you will feel like you walked into the United Nations’ lunchroom. You willhear different languages being spokenSpanish, Polish, Italian, Serbian, Germanand moreand you will hear people exchanging stories from their own culturalbackgrounds.
Highbury patronsencompass the gamutyou will find lawyers, aldermen, nurses, teachers, postalcarriers, writers, etc. What could easily become a natural breeding ground forarguments and disputes is instead a fun and comfortable hub of culturalexchange, endemic to Milwaukee’simmigrant history. There is no hooliganism, and there are no bar fights, andwhen a match is over groups of opposing fans mingle and resume conversation.
ThePower of Football
The fascinatingcoagulation of individuals is telling of the power of this sport. What makesfootball so distinct is its beautiful simplicityall you need to play it is aball, and the rules are few and simple. The emphasis on the quality of the game is what makes thissport unique. Because goals are not easily scored, and the score itself isgenerally low, each goal becomes something incredibly precious. Scoring is onlyone theme being developed in this poem. You watch the approach, the style ofplay, the playerswho’s injured, who’s not, who's red-carded and why (just whatdid that midfielder say about the referee’s mother?). The game is beautifulbecause it presents an assemblage of moves and tacticsdribbles, eye contact,cunning versatilitythat form an incredible mosaic. At the end of a game, 0-0matters (literally, a team gets one point for a draw), but the final judgmentof the match is whether it exhibited the verse and verve that has held theworld outside of America captive for 125 years.
I have had not only theprivilege of watching “the beautiful game” during work hours, but I have alsohad the time to observe what football does to peoplehow it transforms them,unites them, and what it means to them on an intimate level. Their eyes followthe dance of the players as they make their way across the pitch like apaintbrush dances across a fresh layer of canvas. The artistry on the pitchculminates in something ethereal and elegant.
Football is a wonderfulteacher when it comes to cultural inquiry. During the World Cup we will seecountries come to a temporary peacea midday truceto follow the elegant flightof a long cross into the box. If you are just a wee bit curious, I suggest youpop your head into the pub between now and July 11, as you will get a sense ofthe passion and the camaraderie of the world's most cherished sportand seewith clarity just how football can bridge our differences and heal our wounds.
It is this way that Ihave seen the American melting pot embody its idealistic sphere and make itselfevident. There is something powerful about a sport that traverses theboundaries of cultural and racial identity, and transforms the masses intooneunifying otherness into a universal language that everyone can speak andthat all can and want to hear.
Forza Italia!
