It's another summer in Amsterdam, another opportunity to drink good beer, eat excellent cheese and hop/skip around Europe visiting places yet unseen and/or possibly revisit old favorites. Yet, here I am 3 weeks into the summer and I have only partaken of 2 out of 3. I have yet to leave Holland. The reason for this unimaginable lapse: La Copa Mundial aka the World Cup aka that big ass game that took place in South Africa and permanently embedded Waka Waka into my brain.
By the time we arrived in the Netherlands, the men in orange had already qualified for the Quarter Finals against Brazil. My Dutch friends and acquaintances were justly proud and were near universal in their resigned acceptance that they was going to get crushed by Brazil. No other outcomes were seriously entertained. As a result, I got my first lesson in football. Apparently, Brazil ees berry, berry good.