The Agony of the Feet

The Czechs made mincemeat of Team USA, the fifth-best team in the FIFA world. Who knew the difference between 5 and 2 equals humiliation? Even with Koller down, tricky Rosicky danced circles around the Americans.

As the game went on, my eyes lingered on defender Eddie Lewis. When the announcer mentioned his hometown, Cerritos, California, it hit me: Eddie Lewis is the same Eddie Lewis from my high school Spanish class! He sat to my right, played varsity football (American, I believe), and was quite cute back then. Mr. Gutierrez would often pick on him with a sneer, saying “Ehhhh-ddie, ¡Qué lástima!” when he didn’t hand in his homework or failed to answer a question properly.

I’d let Eddie copy my assignments every now and then, like learning the lyrics to songs (“Me sube la bilirubina” will never leave me). He was older, popular (even voted “Most Popular” of his class, I believe), athletic, and had all the typical Heathers-esque qualities that should inspire hatred and violence found on most football pitches. But I found him to be quite personable and funny.

Now he plays for Leeds and is in the World Cup. Something tells me he’s picked up Spanish along the way.