A Wine Lover’s World Cup

Friday was a perfect day for a Pinotage. It went so perfectly with springbok a.k.a. antelope steaks that my husband encountered on a recent trip to Cape Town. On Saturday, we moved on to a boisterous Argentinean Malbec to accompany grilled ribeyes outside on our terrace. And Sunday we made room for a refreshing Riesling that worked well with stuffed red perch. Ah, the World Cup. It’s not just a time for everyone to become a soccer fan; for wine lovers, it’s also an excellent reason to celebrate world wines.

I live in Germany where last night Deutschland proved that an absent, injured player means it only beats Australia 4-0, not MORE to zero. So, to the unceasing whine of near, far and televised vuvuzela horns, I enjoyed a beautiful German Riesling. Granted, if tempted by an Australian Shiraz, I might have had trouble supporting my current country of residence. But thankfully, impressive Australian wines are harder to come by in Germany, so the temptation was easily avoided.

You can probably already tell that I’m not the most knowledgeable soccer fan. However, I love the World Cup. I earnestly look forward to these few weeks when I can increasingly appreciate athletic prowess while also becoming one of the best global citizens possible. I try, anyhow. My approach? It just seems easier cheering for a team whose country knows its wine. England vs. USA? C’mon. Can any English wine compare to a luscious California Pinot Noir or an All-American Zinfandel? I think not. So the choice for whom to cheer for becomes quite easy. In fact, it becomes essential. Without fan support, these teams could lose, leaving only non-wine-making countries to play out the quarterfinals, semi-finals and finals. I become parched at the mere thought.

Unfortunately, good wine doesn’t necessarily produce winners. South Africa could only tie with Mexico, as could France with Uruguay. I’m not sure what that means exactly, but I’m hoping the wine roots will bear out and these teams play well enough that we can keep enjoying their wines during the World Cup as part of this viewing strategy. And Brazil, who has yet to play, always plays well, but try finding a Brazilian wine outside of Brazil! (It’s possible but very difficult.)

Clearly, my approach to following the World Cup with what I put into my cup must annoy serious sports enthusiasts. Afterall, why should one snub a fantastic soccer team just because its country doesn’t make good wine? And the answer to that is very easy. I am a wine lover. Yes, I can enjoy a beer, a cocktail, a soda, even a fizzy mineral water. But there is something magical to me about wine. I think of the many people whose hands not only touch the grapes, but the vines and leaves and soil that ultimately yield shockingly varied products – wine that can be so good if all stars are aligned and experience and skill win out to create artful and scientific splendor. Is it a metaphor that parallels the nature and nurturing that goes into preparing a soccer team for the World Cup? Probably not, but it’s not so far a-field, right?

So, furrow your brow if you must at my crazy approach to supporting many World Cup teams. By July 11th, I will remember the soccer rules I learned from the last World Cup, able to explain quickly why a player got a red card or why the officials have tacked on minutes to a game. I will have my favorite players, and I will likely spout off soccer-y lingo without batting an eye. And each match will be a treat to watch, as well as a wonderful reason to find the perfect Spanish Tempranillo, lustful Italian Barolo, or cute little French Rosé.