I’m not sure why, but I never really latched on to soccer (or “football,” as those kooky foreigners call it). I mean, to be honest, I didn’t latch on too hard to any sports at all in my youth. I was too involved with comics and TV and whatnot. But even as I started to get into the athletic arts, soccer never really hit with me. Maybe it was the memories of my youth league soccer team, wherein our coach cursed at us to turn us into men (I told my parents about this immediately). I think we won the Arundel Cup that year, but I am one hundred percent sure that it was despite my involvement. I probably spent the whole season spinning around in a lonely corner of the pitch, thinking about Harry Potter and what snack we would get after the game. Good times. But some people actually care for soccer. Some people care so much that they go on to play professionally. And every four years they compete in a tournament that the majority of the United States pretends to care about. The good news is, as of 2:30 pm today, our long national FIFA nightmare is over. Until 2018.