I really wanted to write about Detroit today, I have some really cool things to tell you about. Something else is on my mind though and the muse won’t be quiet.
Love of a Man over Love of Country
I threw out a lot of bravado about the England versus USA World Cup game. To be honest, I thought team USA were going to get spanked. I’m a proud American and went out to root for them anyway.
First Confession:
I was rooting for both teams. I am SO American it’s silly but I was torn. Singing God Save the Queen and The Star Spangled Banner at the top of our lungs gave me chills. My heart melted.
These are my favorite two countries in the world! Of course, they’re also the only two countries I’ve lived in. So, yes, I was rooting for both teams.
England scored first. Awesome!
Second Confession:
Then the weird thing happened. Team USA scored and my heart sank.
That’s how you know which team you’re really rooting for. It happened earlier this year with the Canada vs. USA Olympic Gold Medal hockey game. Only this time my heart went the other way, it went against my own country.
Football, footy, footie, futbol, soccer. Call it what you want. To me it means England.
If there isn’t anything more American than baseball, apple pie, and Chevrolet then certainly England is footy.
But it’s more than that. I looked at my husband sitting next to me with his England cap on and the flag of England draped around him like a cape.
This is his first World Cup away from England; he hasn’t been back to old Blighty since late 2008. It’s his first World Cup without his mates; they’ve been friends for over 20 years.
My husband & his mates cheering on Bournemouth in the playoffs in 2003.
He misses England; I know that. He misses his friends and family. I know what it’s like to be far from home, to be in the minority, and it’s not fun.
If England had won the game it would have given my husband massive amounts of joy. So which would you pick? Rooting for your country or rooting for your husband?
For me it was easy, the love of a man and his happiness is much more important. Does that make me Un-American? I don’t think so.