Stopped in Philadelphia, I called my father. He and I had the following conversation.
"Wow, take a look at this World Cup on ABC."
"In the airport?"
"Im sure someone is watching it. Listen, the US just scored a touchdown but the stupid ref took it away."
"Dad, I think it is called a goal, not a touchdown."
"What the hell do you know about it?" Talk about hitting an obvious target. "The US is wearing white, the Italians are wearing blue." I hung up and went and looked for the match, McDonalds ice cream in hand. I wedged myself in among a bunch of men holding beer. We stared at the sports bar's slick flat screen TVs.
"That ref!" One man said to me. I nodded and sucked on my ice cream cone. (Later someone explained the ref is a Uruguayan man who's been taking bribes for the past 4 years. I don't know if that's true.)
I remember when I was little and missed my family, my mom always said something cute like "Just look at the sky. They're seeing the same moon you are." Skulking around Cibo's, ice cream in hand, I think, "How cute. I'm seeing the same game my dad is." Celestial bodies, national networks, and man does the work of nature.