Sunday morning was a gloomy one. Out on Bruin Walk, you could have counted on one hand the number of people walking around, and the campus, as usual in the summer, resembled a ghost town.
But just a short walk away from the Bruin statue, the mood couldn’t have been more different.
Soccer might not be the most popular sport in the U.S. right now, but at least once every four years, just the anticipation for World Cup games gets people excited. Sunday ““ the day of the eagerly anticipated final between Spain and the Netherlands ““ was no exception.
That anticipation drove me to catch the game on the 140-inch HDTV at Ackerman Union. I wasn’t ready to try to find a blurry live feed online again in my TV-less apartment, so I decided to get an early start to my day and head over to Ackerman where I was sure that I’d be joined by some die-hards.
I grabbed a seat about 45 minutes before the start, and slowly, more fans joined me. Some were clad in orange, more brought their red garb, most decided to voice their support rather than wear it. One boy in an orange shirt even brought his Jabulani ball along with him and rolled it around at his feet.
By kickoff, the crowd was about 300 strong and standing-room-only, which didn’t deter anyone from watching one of the greatest sporting events in the world.
They all came to Ackerman for a variety of reasons. Abdul Faye, a UCLA Transportation employee originally from Senegal, told me he made a habit of stopping by before work whenever possible to watch the games.
“I like the atmosphere,” he said. “It’s very cosmopolitan.”
He had to leave midway through the second half to get to work, and he wasn’t the only one. Many of the employees from the nearby restaurants strolled by whenever the crowd roared. Raul Gaina, a student who works as an ASUCLA building manager, shuffled chairs around and told people to move to avoid a fire hazard (“Next time we could have a theater set up in here,” he told me) before finding a place to stand and watch.
ESPN showed shots of Amsterdam and Madrid, where hundreds of thousands were gathered to catch a glimpse of their respective teams on one big screen, more so to celebrate with their countrymen than to watch the match. Ackerman wasn’t exactly like that, but I’d like to think it was a scaled-down version, perfect for the casual fan.
Every save, shot and slow-motion replay set off a loud collection of oohs and aahs. Defensive stops were applauded, dives were booed, and every time Spain found the side of the net ““ which was often for some reason ““ hundreds celebrated, only to quiet down.
Extra time did nothing to ease the tension. I felt bad when one guy made the mistake of getting up and blocking the screen before a corner kick, after which he was “politely” told to sit down or leave.
When Andres Iniesta broke through just four minutes before penalty kicks, you probably could have heard the screams in the room from Hedrick Summit. Plaza de Colón and a small gathering of fans in Westwood rejoiced as one when the final whistle blew and La Furia Roja held the trophy.
Maybe in four years, we’ll all pack Bruin Plaza to watch the U.S. soccer team in the finals. For now, Ackerman Union will do.