I won’t bury the lede. Prior to a week ago, I’d never watched a soccer game. In my life. At any level.
As you can surmise, this isn’t by happenstance. Soccer is the world’s most popular sport, with an estimated 3.5 billion fans globally, a number so hyperbolic and large it seems fake. It has taken a massive amount of effort to avoid (motions grandly) *soccer* for precisely 40 years. I even joke that my biggest apprehension about having children is the fear that they’d want to play it.
As a fourth-generation Texan, I am, despite this introductory paragraph, a sports girlie. (I was FOOTBALL SWEETHEART in high school, ok?? A fact I managed to drop in a World Cup story.) I fluently speak football. Hablo present tense basketball. But soccer? Well, it’s all Greek to me.
With World Cup mayhem in full swing in the Big D, I decided to fall in the proverbial deep end of Dallas Stadium (lol) and accepted a generous invitation to a “match!” Two magic words coaxed me— “VIP experience.” That, and as a culture writer, I want to be a part of the action in Dallas, and the World Cup is the action. In hindsight, it feels particularly on-brand for my first soccer game to be a World Cup match between England and Croatia in my hometown that sports pundits unanimously declared “thrilling!” More on that later.
Kitted Out
I prepared for the game the same way I prepare for anything else in Dallas; I figured out what I was going to wear. The night before the match, I headed to The Mothership. At NorthPark Center, I took a lap. Every single person appeared to be an international visitor, arms full of purchases, here for the World Cup, and ready to stimulate the economy. (Who can blame them? It’s the best mall in America.) It also seemed like every brand was activated for the occasion. I found Lacoste’s country edition polos particularly chic, their iconic crocodile inspired by each country’s flag, but I ended up purchasing a vintage-inspired England mini ringer tee from Levi’s. Every bit a diplomat, I paired the England tee with a red gingham skirt from Lela Rose that felt like either a respectful nod to the Croatian flag or the tablecloth at an Italian restaurant. Suffice it to say, I didn’t see any other taffeta ball skirts at the match, just a whole lot of “kits.”
Dallas Stadium seemed almost overly-staffed with employees to direct visitors, but none of them gave me the same directions. It was a lot of “you gotta go up or down to go across,” but #neverthelessshepersisted. I finally arrived at my appointed section, 209, where hospitality group On Location holds court for the promised VIP experience that accompanied my objectively sick seat. (How much did it cost? It’s hard to say and depends on when you look. $5k? More?)
Very Important Amenities
Along with my enviable seat, my On Location ticket package granted me access to its VIP lounge with a buffet and open bar. I ordered a Diet Coke (a test, but also my personality) and was delighted to see I’d arrived at the glass bottle Diet Coke tier of hospitality, like ordering a soda at a Michelin-starred restaurant… or anywhere in Europe. Compared to the lines I saw amongst The Normals seeking hydration and sustenance in the rest of the stadium, I didn’t have to wait for my frosty beverage, and, well, that’s not nothing. The buffet menu felt random, starting with a bowl of mixed greens (pass), limoncello burrata ravioli (lofty, fine), red curry cauliflower that looked like tempura (pass), and mini chocolate cupcakes (plentiful! safe!). I suppose it just felt like a missed opportunity to serve Tex-Mex or BBQ, but maybe I’m just being served too many Reels of Europeans loving their Texas pilgrimage.
Having recently returned from the women’s finals at Roland Garros in Paris, I similarly relished the pomp and circumstance preceding the match. As America prepares to turn 250, I love a national anthem and a flag presentation. I sat near a British journalist (with stereotype-defyingly flawless teeth) who writes about “the business of sports.” Motioning to Jerry World, I said, “Well, this is the epicenter of the business of sports.” I told him that while I had NOT ever watched a soccer game before, I HAD watched Ted Lasso. “You’ll have to let me know what you think!” he said.
After brazenly asking comically dumb soccer questions (“Are there four quarters?” “So the refs can randomly just add time?” “Who is in the blue?”), I locked in. I saw the six(!) goals. I rode the wave of secondhand euphoria from buzzed and delighted Brits when Their Guy, Harry Kane, delivered. (Twice.) The vibes were undoubtedly high, the excitement palpable. I… loved it.
When I got home, my Instagram fed me reel after reel of the English players watching their loyal fans singing Oasis and “Hey Jude” to them. Who’s cutting onions?
You know that time Harry Styles said, “My favorite thing about the movie is, like, it feels like a movie?” This sporting event felt like a real sporting event, pulsing with energy and impossible to forget.
A bona fide sports journalist, on location with On Location. If you’re going to do something for the first time, you might as well do it right.
Slip inside the eye of your mind // Don’t you know you might find // A better place to play?