Woke up around 7:30 Mexico time. Turned on ESPN and then Fox Sports and then three different local stations, one of which had a big clock counting down to 3pm. Went outside the hotel around 9 to show the colors. Saw two americans in the lobby nodded gave the thumbs up. Walking outside, I thought the whole world was looking at me. I lit a cigarette on the sidewalk, and a cabbie reading my shirt, said "hey O'Brien need a taxi?" I smiled, said no, we talked soccer, Mexicans and americans congregated. Ole Ole was good but pricey, I went to check out the 10am buffet at 9:15, and it was already open. Open bar, met a lot of Californians and a lot of southerners, Georgia Texas NC etc. One guy had a "Mississippi state flag" which grated on my liberal nerves, but I said nothing. A documentary was being filmed on Americans at Azteca, so they got footage of us getting on the (4) buses. We had police escort which was cool, sorta felt like that Nike or Gatorade commercial. We probably averaged 20 miles an hour in heavy traffic. Mexican Flag vendors indicated we were were in Azteca's neighborhood. The windows were smartly blacked out because guys in our bus were trying to give the finger right back to Mexicans who, I think, took us to be the US team. Don't know why, no markings whatsoever on the outside. Police escort the only indication we were the enemy. Azteca's parking lot is just like RFK or Riverfront or etc (if you put them on a plateau in the middle of the rocky mountains). The Ole tour of 200 or so walked in as a group. Mexicans were taking pictures, so I made the peace sign, with a zero after it. Then they indicated 5-0 back but more often the finger. Whistling apparently means something derogatory too. To be continued. Talked to Junior, Donovan, Davies, and Chernudolo at the airport after. We were in the upper deck corner, which is perfect for me since I like to see both the width and depth of the whole field at once. Sam's Army had taken the subway and were already seated in the section to the left as you view the field, the other section's first few rows were also seated, so I grabbed the first aisle seat I could find about twenty rows up. Security Police had escorted us through the parking lot to the stadium where Riot Police with shields took over. This all felt unnecessary until we were in our seats. The fence on my left was lined with police with shields. There was no fence on my right just a line of police with shields. Looking up there were still another 20-25 rows above me. To the left, the fence made a jog so I was a long ways from missles coming from above in that direction.....and Sam's Army was a closer and unmissable target for them anyway. To my right was a different story, I looked up made eye contact with some Mexicans frantically yelling "f you" and giving me the finger. I gave them a long peace sign..........then slowly raised a zero. 5-0 was flashed back yadda yadda FU FU FU!!!!! I turned back to the field to soak in the atmosphere........Azteca......is gigantic and ........incoming! Splash! splash! behind me, from the right. Big beer cup wizzes over my head and blasts Sam's Army, everyone turns around FU FU FU!!!!!!. Funny things: Mexican riot police are simply there to watch the game, hold their shields, and seperate the fans. No beer chuckers are thrown out. But.....in order for Mexicans to lob a cup of beer down at us, they have to underhand it and then let gravity take over. So, baseball style, we start trying to catch the slow moving, almost full beers. Sam's Army drinks a few.......from the left, a little below my level, a battery or some small heavy object lasers just over the fence into Sam's Army . I don't see any blood, but it feels serious, if sporadic. Its an hour until game time. Warm ups are loud. Howard and Guzan first out. "USA USA USA" quickly drowned out by noise makers and "Mehico Mehico". They are determined that no American chant will be heard, the moment we make noise, they make more noise easily, almost pointless for us, but at least the Mexican fans know we're here. The line-ups are announced and I have visions of Gelsenkirchen when I heard Beasley and Lewis were our left side v Czech Rep.. Deep despair at Clark, Boca, and Ching and the money I've spent to not see Jozy and Benny......but Bob knows best, so I turn it around, and decide that Boca will probably score off a corner. USA! USA! USA! The US national anthem is the loudest sound I may have ever heard, my ears hurt....and the only time I heard any music was "Oh say does that star-spangled banner". The low "O" sound is the only american noise that seems to have resonance against the Mexicans. "Goooooooch" works very well. We score! MFing Pandemonium!!!!!!!!! I tumble down the aisle 4 or 5 steps trying to double high five the Sam's army guy coming up the aisle. Amazingly, I'm unhurt and haven't injured or even touched anyone in my fall. (and no bruises this morning?) Cups from above, foam and liquid from the sides, small danerous sh!te from below. They score, I'm incensed. A clear foul on Donovan breaking into acres of space right through Mexico's middle, no call????? 5 seconds later counter-attack goal Mexico.....BS, almost tragic change of fortune. no call? Half-time is really wonderful. The amenties area below our seats, outside with the ramps, is for our two sections only, but there are hundreds of green shirts in the USA sections, so as everyone takes a leak, there is much posing for souvenier pictures. A Mexican guy is dressed and looks almost exactly like Ochoa the keeper. I'm a popular big Gringo manaquin (sic). My peace sign and a zero, in every shot. (my new gang sign I'm proud that the American crowd is mixed. 50% are under 35 years old white former player. 10% white female with their boyfriend. 20% Mexican American, some living/working in Mexico City (dressed in black, smelling of perfume and sporting black sunglasses but chanting USA USA and using previously unknown hand gestures to rile the green shirts, nice funny unexpected allies. 10% older white guys a few with wives or sons. 10% asian and african american. 49% are binge drinking. The stars and bars of Mississippi really grated on me at half time. I wondered as I watched him pose for pictures: Does he know this flag's history in soccer? Has he seen the guys who wave it in Germany Sweden Russia and Italy? (France? USF?) Did FIFA notice? Do they care? Second half growing confidence of a draw. Anxious about the officiating, fearing penalties, red, or free kicks. Watching the ball and Dempsey primarily. On defense, he is channeling everything inside to Bradley and Clark. He is positioned very wide to deny the pass to Boca's guy. On quick transitions where Howard looks to spring a break, Deuce either is never an option or he doesn't want to encourage a long throw, or he is unwilling to make a long run (altitude and experience)?), because he isn't looking back to receive the ball. Once the ball was in Howard's grasp Deuce usually trotted to a little beyond midfield to watch the coming Howard punt. Howard's one or two throws to Boca put Clint in difficult positions facing the wrong way squeezed by multiple mexicans against the sideline. Mexico scores, the tour guys at Ole Ole say we are leaving 5 minutes early. I'm a bit mad, but I have a 9:30 flight and luggage at the hotel, and am beginning to think I may miss the flight with Mexican victory traffic jams. When I get to the ramps, I look behind me and see that only two or three americans are coming along. I think about going back, or waiting for reinforcements, but we were toast, and I had had the experience. I kept walking alone through long lines of riot police, until I made the outside level and merged with green shirts getting a jump on traffic. "Good game I said, "I thought the ref was bad" they said "No" I said "OK" and rolled my eyes and said "beat Costa Rica". Got to the bus as the game ended, imagined the pelting Sam's Army was getting. Mexican american firefighter from Orange County, with his dad, arrived back at the bus first, and he went in search of beers for the ride home. He found little old ladies with ice ice cold Modelli (?) Atlanta banker (big guy) arrived last, telling that he had been spit on, and that at least one battery had found an American jaw/cheek apparently very badly, but he was serene. He gave the firefighter 300 pesos to negotiate for plenty more beers, nice gesture. We drank outside in the shade of the bus, waiting until all 4 buses were ready to roll. Mexicans filed past pretty quietly, some "fu, fu's" but many more handshakes and "good game". Lesson for me: We do things in crowds, that we would be ashamed to do one on one. The buses got rolling around 5:45 with me doing calculations in my head regarding the airport. Turns out the trip back is high speed, taking only around twenty minutes. I'm golden. Get my briefcase from the concierge, and he had the nice taxi/limo ready since I told him I'd be in a hurry. (Good way to get limo service for the price of a taxi is to tell the concierge when you're leaving for the airport, he'll have a long list of buddies with nice rides happy to get a guarenteed airport fare that he can schedule.....yesterday I just got a toyota camry but that's a limo in Mexico City. Also, if you insist on a smoking room at the hotel they often have to move you to a nice bigger room with a balcony facing the nice way at no extra cost. The "limo" driver is excited, but mostly seems relived mexico won. Get to the airport, find my gate 7:30 two hours early. The Mexican next to me after I sit down with a sandwich at the gate, is a contractor living and working in LA. we talk soccer and shop/work in LA for 10 minutes and he then he asks if I saw Boca and Dempsey when I went to get something to eat? Oh yeah, the players are in the international terminal......duh, leaving for europe. I finish my dinner and get up to look around. The first sit down restaurant I get to I see Michael Bradley walking out looking at his phone and my #5 shirt. I have a sport jacket on, so he doesn't know the back says O'Brien and I think later......was he #5 in 2005 for the u-20s? Anyway Jr has just stepped away from a table with Davies facing me and donovan to the right and Dolo to the left. I have to say something. Davies watches me approach (a little afraid? I'm a big guy maybe I'm upset at the loss?) Landon looks up fork in hand, Dolo turns to face me following Davies look. 10 feet away, I point at Davies and say "great goal". Stupidly, I forget to compliment Donovan's gorgeous assist that made it. Still approaching I say "I just wanted to say I appreciate you guys leaving your hearts out there" (maybe I said "on the field") for a split second I feel a little silly: old guy hero-worshipping kids. Davies still looks blank, good poker face. Landon saves me. "Thanks, and thank you for coming down." Dolo gives me a huge grin that I think says "Azteca was Awesome wasn't it?" I turn, not wanting to bother them anymore, perhaps unexpectedly, because Bradley is close behind, we barely miss. 20 feet away I think: offer to buy their dinner? while making a crack about Beckham? Track down Deuce....check London flights? Nah I'm done. But I'm not......duh, Landon is on my LA flight. and Davies, Jr, and Dolo are going to Frankfurt from the next gate down. Some Mexican fans ask for pictures with Davies when they're done with dinner. Bradley is wearing shorts and no socks, really thick legs, really strong, has a badass don't mess with me glare too. No one asks him for anything, that I see. Frankfurt flight leaves. LA is 1 hr late. Donovan is nowhere to be seen, until we finally board. Donovan is first class, so by the time I board he is asleep or pretending to be. Hat over his eyes, looking really small next to the fat Hasidic guy with the window seat. Arriving in LA, we have to take a bus to the terminal, Donovan is sitting, texting or twittering or checking messages. We get to customs and the US citizens line snakes back and forth so Landon and I face each other 3 or 4 times avoiding eye contact. But the guy behind Landon in the US citizens line is wearing a green mexico jersey! I really want to mock him, but I decide no scene, just a real hard stare that he mostly avoids. Just before Landon goes to the customs window, a woman in the snake coil behind me sees my shirt and my flag bandana and asks if I've been to the game? and I said yes and asked if she watched it? yes she saw it on TV. I say loud enough for Donovan to hear, "The guy in the grey hat played in it." She is small and can't see Landon at first.......finally she locates him and seems unimpressed, "is he any good?" he is at the window and will be gone in second. I can't resist. Not shouting but loud, so everyone can hear, leaving no room for argument: "He is our best player........EVER".