No Other Home by Matt Besler

Author:Matt Besler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Andrews McMeel Publishing
Published: 2017-10-26T21:05:55+00:00

Section six

The Group of Death, a Gut-Wrenching Loss, and a Great Big Decision

My First World Cup Cap: U.S. vs. Ghana, Estadio das Dunas, June 16, 2014

Walking onto the field for warm ups, I immediately felt a buzz in the stadium in Natal, Brazil. Everyone has heard that expression before, but it really is true—it’s a feeling that’s rare. Only a few other times in my career compare to what the stadium felt like that night: the MLS Cup 2013 in Kansas City, the World Cup qualifier against Mexico in Azteca in 2013, and the 2015 CONCACAF Cup Final in the Rose Bowl. The atmosphere was electric. As I walked onto the field, I felt alive.

During warm-ups, I ran back and forth across the field about twenty times to get loose. It wasn’t planned, but my Kansas City teammate Graham Zusi ended up running right next to me the entire time. After we’d fallen into step together, I looked over at him. Maybe it was nervous energy, but I just started laughing. “How did we end up here?” I asked him. We had been through a lot together as professionals. Now, we were both about to play a World Cup match for our country. “We’ve come a long way from your parents’ basement.” Graham joked, referring to our rookie year when we lived together in my parents’ basement to save money.

This brief exchange lasted only a few seconds, but that moment meant a lot and is one I will always remember. It helped me calm down. It gave me perspective and allowed me to go out and embrace the opportunity ahead. I was about to play in the biggest game of my life, but I wasn’t that nervous. Having one of my best friends by my side to share the experience with was a major factor in helping me to relax.

I honestly don’t remember much at all after the start of the game. The nerves and adrenaline probably caused my memory to go south. I do remember Clint Dempsey’s goal thirty seconds into the game. I have no idea how it happened—all I remember is seeing him shoot across the goal and the ball hitting off the far post and into the net. The crowd erupted, and I sprinted sixty yards downfield to celebrate with him and the rest of my teammates. The next forty minutes were fairly uneventful, in large part because I don’t really remember anything that happened. (Again, adrenaline makes it hard to remember sometimes.)

“My wife often reminds me, ‘There’s always someone better off than you. There’s always someone worse off than you.’”

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