FanHouse's World Cup Review: Reflections on South Africa

The World Cup is over, and FanHouse has returned to the U.S. after five weeks in South Africa and 18 additional hours in seat 40G on a South African Airways A340.

The sports world and 24-hour news cycle don't allow for too much reflection, but before we turn the page and shift our focus toward Major League Soccer, Americans abroad, the European game and the future of the U.S. national team, here are some memories, observations, thoughts and photos from a compelling, fascinating and exhausting trip.

THE GAMES

I covered 15 games in six stadiums over the course of a month, comprising all four matches involving the U.S., nine group-stage games, two in the round-of-16 (USA-Ghana and Brazil-Chile), the Germany-Argentina quarterfinal in Cape Town, both semifinals and the final.

Best: Spain-Germany in the semifinal. This was the sport played at its highest level, and after seeing the way the Netherlands approached the final, more credit should be given to Germany for its attempt to play some soccer against the eventual champs. La Roja really were tested, and watching them slowly wear down the energetic Germans with their precision possession and then triumph on Carles Puyol's goal was compelling. The Durban setting was fantastic too -- a beautiful stadium on the beach in a city that offered all the hospitality and activity you could hope for after three weeks in imposing Johannesburg (photos of Moses Mabhida Stadium and the Durban skyline below).







Share Worst: Brazil-North Korea in the first round. Watching the co-favorites flail as they struggled to break down the worst team in the tournament at freezing Ellis Park was maddening. Brazil's reliance on individual skill over team play was evident even in its first match, and while Maicon brought the crowd to its feet with his brilliant near-post finish in the 55th minute, the goal couldn't mask the deficiencies that eventually would cost the five-time champions. North Korea's consolation strike in the 89th minute also betrayed a lack of Brazilian discipline that would come home to roost in the quarterfinals, when they melted down in the second half against the Netherlands.

Toughest to Cover: USA-Algeria in the first round. Objectivity is hard to muster when watching your own country squander chance after chance in a must-win game. I've been covering soccer for 13 years, but have been an American soccer player and fan for 30. I felt every minute of that history as the clock ticked down on our hopes for advancement. With about 20 minutes left at Loftus Versfeld Stadium, I resigned myself to writing the "U.S. loses 0-0, is eliminated from World Cup" story. It was tough to bury the frustration. I was about 800 words in when Landon Donovan forced a rewrite. I've never been happier to have to delete that much work and conjure a whole new story in 10 minutes. Professionally, it was immensely challenging. Personally, it was exhilarating. My view of kickoff below.



The Final: Spain-Netherlands. I went to the 1994 final between Brazil and Italy as a fan, and as the match between Spain and the Netherlands entered overtime, I was convinced I'd never see a goal in a championship game. Thankfully, Andrés Iniesta delivered. This was another contest where journalistic objectivity was tough to maintain. Holland was disgraceful and should have been down to nine men by halftime (their post-game complaints about the refereeing added stupidity to injury), and there was genuine fear that the Spanish, so worthy of the title, might be forced to penalty kicks. Yes, the Oranje should have had a corner kick right before the play that resulted in the goal, but that's a technicality. Spain deserved it, and Iniesta's artistry, both on the heel pass that started the 116th-minute attack and on the finish, was a joy to witness.

Frustrations included the cold, Shakira's awful pregame lip-syncing and the fact that Sepp Blatter handed out the trophy right below the press tribune in Soccer City's upper deck, ensuring none of us could see it. But overall, it was a satisfying night. Nelson Mandela made an appearance, and the right team won the right way. Here's my view of the teams lining up for the anthems, part of a stirring pregame that included the closing ceremony, Mandela, the sound of a heartbeat blasting over the stadium speakers and Jimmy Jump's play for the World Cup trophy.



THE PLAYERS

Here's our World Cup XI, compiled from players I saw in person. For the record, I covered the following teams live: Algeria, Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Denmark, England, Ghana, Germany, Honduras, Ivory Coast, Netherlands, North Korea, Slovenia, South Africa, Spain, Uruguay, USA.

Goalkeeper: Iker Casillas (Spain).

Four shutouts in the four knockout-round games, plus the two outstanding saves against Arjen Robben in the final, make this an easy choice.

(Honorable mention to Ghana's Richard Kingson).

Defenders: Maicon (Brazil), Gerard Piqué, Carles Puyol and Sergio Ramos (Spain).

Yes, Ramos and Maicon are right backs, but we'll figure out a way to get them both on the field. They're just too good to leave out. And the Barcelona partnership in the middle of the Spanish defense didn't receive nearly enough credit for the team's performance. Puyol is all will and scored that huge goal in the semifinal, while Piqué boasts a surprising amount of ball skill for a center back.

(Honorable mention to Brazil captain Lúcio, Germany's Per Mertesacker and Philipp Lahm and Uruguay's Diego Lugano).

Midfielders: Diego Pérez (Uruguay), Xavi Hernández (Spain), Thomas Müller (Germany) and Wesley Sneijder (Netherlands).

Pérez was the best player at the World Cup whom I'd never heard of prior to the tournament. He was a beast in defensive midfield (right) and a very capable catalyst for the attack. Müller was dynamic and very deserving of the award given to the best young player -- we wonder if the semifinal might have been different had he been available. Germany was so fun to watch thanks in large part to the 20-year-old. Xavi wasn't the best man on the field in the final, but he clearly was the engineer of the possession game that led Spain to the title. And Sneijder was the tournament's top player through the semis. Holland's limitations were exposed in the final, making his contributions to the silver medal all the more impressive.

(Honorable mention to America's Landon Donovan, Ghana's André Ayew, Germany's Bastian Schweinsteiger, Holland's Dirk Kuyt, Spain's Andrés Iniesta, Chile's Jean Beausejoir, North Korea's Ji Yun-Nam for his goal against Brazil and South Africa's Siphiwe Tshabalala -- for having the World Cup's best name and for the thunderous strike against Mexico that left the country buzzing, literally).

Forwards: Diego Forlán (Uruguay) and David Villa (Spain).

Five goals each told only part of the story for these marksmen. In a World Cup that featured so many struggling strikers, Forlán and Villa not only finished the chances they should have, but created goals out of nothing. That audacious confidence to shoot from anywhere (see: Villa against Honduras and Chile or Forlán against South Africa and Germany), to consider any play a scoring opportunity, separated these two from the pack.

(Honorable mention to Argentina's Gonzalo Higuaín, Brazil's Luís Fabiano and the USA's Herculez Gomez, for being so much fun to interview. He's got a rare sense of humor and his brother is an MMA fighter. It's gold.)

THE TRAVEL

FanHouse was based in Johannesburg through the second round. All four U.S. games were within driving distance and the Americans were staying in Irene, a small suburb just south of nearby Pretoria. Jo'burg is a modern city in the worst sense -- a downtown to be avoided at all cost (although I didn't, thanks to a patient driver from Zimbabwe who showed me around a bit, including an elevator trip up the Carlton Centre, the tallest building in Africa), suffocating traffic at all hours of the day and next to no public transportation. Everything -- houses, businesses, hotels and shops -- is surrounded by walls, fences, barbed wire or some combination thereof. The city is sprawling and incoherent, and there's nowhere to walk. I spent most of the World Cup's first few weeks shuttling and idling between the hotel in Braamfontein, the stadiums and the U.S. camp in Irene. South Africa was experienced through the window of a van. That being said, the people could not have been nicer or more hospitable.



The U.S. stayed at a hotel next to a working dairy farm that was a popular place for families to have a leisurely lunch. The shop and restaurant there accepted only credit cards because it had been robbed recently. The sausage rolls were excellent. The white tent above, located just behind the restaurant and cow pens, is where U.S. coach Bob Bradley and the players met with the press each day. We were searched by the secret service before entering, and bomb-sniffing dogs occasionally patrolled the area. Recordings of interviews inevitably had chicken and dog noises in the background.

It doesn't take long to recognize that South Africa is a country of both considerable wealth and crushing poverty. Time spent on the M1 highway connecting Jo'burg and Irene means passing all kinds of businesses, malls, warehouses, offices and other signs of a bustling economy, while at an exit ramp you're sure to be confronted by people selling whatever they can get their hands on (flags, golf balls, furniture coverings) as they try to scratch out a living. Drive further afield and you'll see roadside villages comprised of dilapidated metal shacks. The jump from first to third world is jarring, and it's hard not to wonder as you fly past whether South Africa had its priorities in order when it bid for the World Cup.





The silver lining to the U.S.'s elimination was the opportunity to see a bit more of the country. FanHouse traveled to both Cape Town and Durban, the former on the Atlantic coast, the latter on the Indian Ocean, for the quarterfinals and semifinals. The cities literally were a breath of fresh air (Jo'burg is really dusty). Cape Town is dominated by the imposing Table Mountain, from which the views of downtown, the famous Victoria & Alfred Waterfront, Green Point Stadium and Camps Bay (a stunning suburb) were spectacular. The more pedestrian-friendly nature of the city also allowed for more interaction between the fans. There were supporters wearing light blue or orange gathered at the waterfront (now a high-end shopping and tourist destination) hours before the first semifinal kicked off, and the "fan walk" that connected the city with the waterfront stadium along Somerset and Main Roads was World Cup atmosphere at its best.

The first photo below features the waterfront and Table Mountain, the second some of the scene before the semifinal. The Dutch were more plentiful and had more interesting outfits, but the Uruguayans won in the prop and volume department.





Durban, site of the Spain-Germany game, was fascinating. The city boasts a huge Indian population and is famous for bunny chow, a dish featuring curry dumped into a hollowed-out loaf of bread. It'll tide you over for three days. Like in Cape Town, the stadium (top) is right on the water and within walking distance of the best part of the city. The Durban beach was practically a carnival. There were women in bikinis and women in burkas, kids of all colors playing every sport imaginable along the boardwalk (including cricket), food stands, buskers, rides, a concert stage and enough noise and distraction to nearly make you forget there was a game. Below, a local fashions Soccer City out of sand. After the match, the kitschy Suncoast Casino offered curry pies, slot machines and blackjack.



Thankfully, we had the opportunity to get out and see a few animals as well. It wasn't exactly a safari, but a day trip to Pilanesberg Game Reserve, about three hours northwest of Johannesburg, offered a beautiful glimpse of Africa at its natural best. The great George Vecsey of The New York Times was in our group of four American reporters and wrote about the experience. We didn't see all the "Big Five", but did spot an elephant, or what used to be an elephant, that ran afoul of some hungry lions, and got great glimpses of living elephants, giraffes, zebras, wildebeests and a lazy crocodile. If you wind up in South Africa at some point, give Polish expat and tour guide extraordinaire Witek Kozlowski a call.




THE FRUSTRATIONS

Much of the annoyance at a World Cup can be summed up with one word/acronym -- FIFA. The all-powerful overlords of the game have their fingerprints on everything, and you can't turn around without being reminded who's running the show. South Africa was transformed into a giant billboard featuring the governing body and the names of its valued 'partners', and one just had to wonder how many of the people living in the shadows of all that Visa, Emirates and Sony signage would ever have access to any of their products.

Every day we ran into fans, hotel employees, taxi drivers, waitresses, shopkeepers, stadium/press center volunteers and other random South Africans who dared not dream of attending one of the games in their own backyard. FIFA originally offered tickets for sale only on the Internet, a luxury many locals can't access. Even once they were available over the counter, most could not afford them. At every game I covered except for the semifinals and final, there were at least 1,000 empty seats. Whether they were earmarked for tour groups or sponsors or the general public, it was inexcusable. While many South Africans celebrated the World Cup, either for cultural or financial reasons, many others said they felt alienated and left behind.

I felt especially sorry for the boerewors (delicious sausage) vendor at the Sandton "Fan Fest" in Johannesburg who claimed he was operating at a loss because the organizers subcontracted by FIFA overcharged for his vending license, failed to provide the tents or electricity they promised and severely miscalculated the number of people who'd watch a game in the middle of a park in one of the most inaccessible, dangerous cities in the world. I was there the night of the Spain-Portugal match -- about 400 people showed up.

More:

The refereeing at this World Cup was horrendous, and yet another sign of FIFA's arrogance. While fans across the planet grew more and more frustrated with the pictures they saw on their hi-def televisions, the governing body refused once again to make use of available technology, or simply more pairs of eyes, to make the games more fair. It took a grotesque mistake -- the denial of Frank Lampard's goal against Germany in the second round -- to finally stir the suits from their slumber. General Secretary Jerome Valcke told the BBC that FIFA would consider changes for 2014. Let's hope he was serious. From an American perspective, FIFA's obstinacy on the issue gave ammunition to the soccer haters that is pretty difficult to refute.



The massive press centers constructed around each stadium (above) were a nice idea, but far from adequate. Seating was limited to the point where you had to arrive at least four hours before kickoff simply to ensure you had a place to work. The food at all but the one at Soccer City was like something out of your worst elementary school cafeteria nightmare -- overpriced and fried to within an inch of its life. The floors vibrated like a moon bounce. The one at Ellis Park wasn't heated. The bathrooms were cramped trailers located outside. Postgame news conferences were held in pointlessly small rooms and access was extremely limited. They were broadcast on the TVs around the press center, but that wasn't much help if you don't speak Dutch. Occasionally the drivers operating the shuttles between the hotels and stadiums got lost.

The stadiums had no clocks or scoreboards. The two video screens at either end occasionally showed the time in the corner, but it usually was impossible to make it out. It's 2010, and FIFA expects us to keep track on our watches. Ridiculous.

The food was difficult to handle. South Africans love fried food, mayonnaise and mayonnaise on fried food. It's all meat, starch and oil. I probably gained 10 pounds. The best line from the entire trip came from a South African a few of us met at a bar where we were watching the Cameroon-Denmark game. We mentioned the heavy cuisine, and he said, "When I want a vegetable, I eat chicken."

THE DELIGHTS

There were many.

The World Cup is a melting pot. Not only does it offer the opportunity to mingle with people from the host country, but it presents so many chances to chat with journalists and fans from all over the world. That gave us the chance to educate people on American soccer, because the vast majority of them (especially foreign reporters) think the sport still trails curling and tiddlywinks in popularity. In their defense, they asked good questions, and I wound up doing interviews with radio stations or newspapers from places like Colombia, India and Sweden (read it here).

At the same time, the U.S. performance in South Africa impressed many. Both professional observers and amateurs said they noticed and appreciated the unity and team spirit among the Americans. The national team won some fans in South Africa. In addition, foreign reporters accustomed to players walking past them in the mixed zone like they were late for an appointment were stunned that the Americans would always stop and chat. The U.S. may have exited the World Cup in the second round, but it did so with respect.

It was great to see new stars emerge. Nike and adidas hold too much influence over which players become household names, and it was fascinating to watch the likes of Wayne Rooney, Cristiano Ronaldo (taking over a Johannesburg skyscraper below), Fernando Torres and Lionel Messi struggle to live up to expectations while Forlán, Sneijder and others who aren't shoved down our throats on a regular basis showed their quality. We were introduced to Róbert Vittek of Slovakia, Keisuke Honda of Japan, Mesut Özil of Germany, Asamoah Gyan of Ghana and others who are just as worthy of some big-time endorsement dollars/euros.



South Africa defied the doubters. The annoyances described above were insignificant compared to the outstanding spirit the nation conveyed as they hosted the world. That performance transcended logistics -- it's a lot easier to handle a traffic jam with a friendly taxi driver, or a faulty internet connection with sympathetic and helpful hotel staff (the maids at mine sang in the lobby every morning, and they were really good). Everyone, even people who clearly were struggling, was ready with a smile and an offer to assist. It made South Africa an easier place to be.

In addition, the nearly total enthusiasm for the event was heartwarming. As we chronicled early on from a rally to support Bafana Bafana, South Africans from all ethnic and economic backgrounds were united behind their team and the tournament. The 7 a.m. vuvuzela wake-up calls were easier to tolerate because of the genuine enthusiasm behind them. Everyone, from kids and old ladies at the grocery store to the flight attendants on SAA, was wearing a yellow South Africa shirt. Bafana's first-round elimination sucked a bit of life from the streets, but the first two weeks was fantastic, and the spirit picked back up as the semis and final approached.



The stadiums were stunning. The older ones, like Loftus Versfeld in Pretoria, featured steep stands with great sight lines (a sharp contrast to the shallow stands at several of the MLS facilities here in the U.S.), while the newer grounds were architectural marvels that demonstrated way more creativity than we find in the larger American stadiums. Compare your average NFL stadium to Durban's (top), Soccer City or Cape Town's Green Point Stadium (below, from Table Mountain).





Also: Diego Maradona's press conferences; New Zealand (led by former D.C. United captain Ryan Nelsen) finishing as the only undefeated team; the Peri Peri chicken at the MacRib restaurant at the Garden Court Milpark; the South African flag-inspired sideview mirror covers that could be found on half the cars in Johannesburg; Landon Donovan putting his money where his mouth was; the incredibly helpful P.R. staffers at U.S. Soccer (especially David Applegate, who let us hitch rides on the Ubuntu van); Giovanni van Bronckhorst's stunning goal that set the semifinals alight; Paul the Octopus; reports from friends about packed bars in Washinton, D.C.; the Sunday African craft market at Rosebank mall, the fact that Jay DeMerit, who left the U.S. to play amateur soccer in England because no MLS team wanted him, started all four games in the World Cup seven years later; my cameo on the Colbert Report; Spain lifting the World Cup -- the best team won.

Thanks to AOL and FanHouse for sending me, and thanks to you for reading. We hope to do it again in four years.