The rallying call is heard more than a block away.
“We bring the noise! We bring the ruckus! USA ain’t nothing to …” and the chant ends in an awkwardly rhyming expletive.
Two bicyclists sporting white-starred blue shirts ride down Capitol Avenue, the lead cyclist wearing cowboy boots and hoisting a large American flag in the air as he steers his fixie with one hand. Passing the River Cities Travel Center in downtown Little Rock, Central Arkansas Transit Authority patrons yell back at the two riders: “Shut up!” “We don’t wanna hear that!”
Unruly individuals in downtown Little Rock are not uncommon. But this Thursday morning is not a regular Thursday morning. In less than an hour, the USA faces Germany in a 2014 World Cup match. Advancement to the knockout stage of 16 is on the line for the U.S. men’s national team, and World Cup fever has clasped Arkansans. Bars and restaurants across the metro open doors early before the 11 a.m. kickoff. One of these many venues is Dugan’s Pub, which opens shortly before 10 on this day.
Just a few minutes past 10 and the River Market venue is already populated with USA soccer fans, with more and more streaming in. The mass of soccer fanatics is young. The two cyclist soccer fans are there. Most of the crowd is dressed in some mix of red, white and blue. American flags as capes. There are red, white and blue bandanas around necks. Around foreheads. Do-rags. And some in the crowd wear USA national team soccer jerseys.
The crowd at the bar is two and three deep 30 minutes before kickoff. The drink of choice is macro-brewed American beer, served in plastic cups. Liquid patriotism for $2.50 a cup. A random bloody mary or two is spotted. Those are the outliers. No, this is a crowd that proudly needs union-made beer for its morning drinking. The median age of the crowd is that perfect age where “grown ups” don’t mind swilling beer at 10:30 in the morning.
During pregame commercials, the room hums with conversation. But TV shots of crowds around the U.S. — there are huge outdoor crowds in places such as Kansas City and Chicago — or clips of the U.S. national team bring out chants. “I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win!” There are whistles and more cheers, but nothing is louder than when the American flag is marched onto the pitch in Recife, Brazil, a port city on the Atlantic coast and site of this World Cup match between the U.S. and Germany.
The room erupts with the appearance of the American flag roughly 4,700 miles away. “USA! USA! USA!” And then the national anthem begins. The packed crowd at Dugan’s — patrons, servers, bartenders, all in unity — stops, stands with hands over hearts and sings along. This is patriotism rooted in a post-9/11 America.
Anthem over, the favored chant of the day surfaces again. “I believe that we will win!” There’s this beautiful intonation to the chant. The reciter builds the chant by screaming out “I believe” with the crowd howling it back. He then adds one extra word each time on the chant, the crowd cries back the steadily assembling chant and soon the chant is complete.
The match starts promptly at 11 a.m. The pregame excitement exhales from the room. One can hear the announcers analyze the match. For all its pregame chants, cheers and hoopla, soccer is still a dull sport compared to other sports the U.S. favors. Soccer fans might be upset with that statement, but it’s true. The sport lacks the continuous, exciting movement of football and basketball, and the tension of baseball.
The Germans keep the pressure on the U.S. in the first 10 minutes, but a yellow card on a German player elicits cheers from the mob at Dugan’s. And missed German shots are the only reason the crowd yells at the TV. The American team looks to be sleepwalking through the rainy match in Recife.
A late arrival to the flag fashions in the congested restaurant? Red, white and blue sunglasses. And then a shout of “Beer coming through!” Quickly following the gap created in the parting crowd is a server, hoisting high on a tray three waters in red solo cups. Some people have to return to work it seems. The bartenders and servers mirror the action on the pitch. They, too, are running, ducking and dodging, delivering drinks to and through the disruptive sea of soccer fans gathered.
The U.S. and Germany are members of Group G in this World Cup, along with Portugal and Ghana. With a win, the U.S. advances to the knockout stage of 16. (The World Cup started with the group stage consisting of 32 teams in eight groups.) Only two teams from Group G advance. A win makes U.S. advancement a certainty. A tie or loss? Then the various tiebreakers come into play. Portugal and Ghana’s match, playing at the same time as the U.S. and Germany, plays heavily into tiebreaker scenarios, so when it’s flashed on the various TV screens hanging around Dugan’s that Portugal scored, the crowd cheers. In World Cup tiebreakers, that’s welcomed news. There’s not much cheering watching the U.S. match, except for U.S. goalkeeper Tim Howard, who makes save after save.
Then halftime arrives. A 0-0 tie at half is OK. Some fans head outdoors for cigarettes and breaths of fresh air. The room’s collective focus on Dugan’s TVs turns inward, into groups of friends.
Fifteen minutes later, play resumes with more “USA! USA! USA!” chants. Some punctuate the patriotic cry with fists punching the air. And then, in the 55th minute, heartbreak arrives via the foot of Germany’s Thomas Mueller, who scores a goal. The Dugan’s crowd groans as one. Hands go to foreheads. Hands cover mouths. In soccer, a 1-0 score can easily be a winner. “That’s not Howard’s fault,” someone says above the defeatist din. “That’s just poor defense.”
Along with Germany’s goal comes more bad news: Ghana has tied Portugal 1-1. A blanket of tension hangs over the crowd, and then, the chant arises: “I believe that we will win!” The Dugan’s crowd lustily joins in. A yellow card on a U.S. player brings out screams. The Dugan’s crowd disagrees. Raised open hands are stretched toward the TVs. The clock ticks closer to the 90-minute mark. The crowd grows more and more subdued. There’s only so much energy in a bar at lunchtime on a weekday. Patience with the match wains. Frustration grows.
But … Portugal scores! The room explodes. Portugal is ahead 2-1 over Ghana. The U.S. is down 1-0 to Germany. Don’t bother with the math. This is good news. Soccer life is fresh again. The round of 16 is not a certainty, but the possibility of U.S. advancement is closer and closer. The crowd knows it. Chants resurface. There’s a palpable sense of joy in the crowd.
“USA! USA! USA!”
The U.S. pressures Germany as the match nears its end but doesn’t score. Germany wins 1-0. Portugal wins 2-1 over Ghana. Soccer math is complex, but the U.S. advances into the round of 16 based on something called goal differential. When’s a loss by America a win? On this Thursday. The bar empties. “I’ve never been happier for a loss,” a fan says.
“USA! USA! USA!”
This is a soccer match in Little Rock. Part entertainment. Part confusion. Part sociological experiment. But a U.S. soccer match is an event worth checking out for sports fans.
The U.S. plays again 3 p.m. Tuesday against Belgium. Bars and restaurants will once again be filled. A win against Belgium, and the U.S. moves into the quarterfinals, facing off against the winner of Argentina and Switzerland. That match is Saturday. If — if— the U.S. plays soccer again Saturday, plan accordingly.