1998 – France

I had the great opportunity to be in France that year in the month that the world cup was playing. I remember driving long and beautiful landscape-filled-hours from Denmark all the way to the south of France to a small town called Bagnols-en-Foret. France qualified to the final game against Brazil. The once small and peaceful town I knew became a metropolis with large screen projectors and hundreds and hundreds of french people and maybe a dozen Brazilian supporters, which included my parents that had decided they were going to support the latin-american team over the european.
The thing is, I was born only 5 years before this world cup, so I can barely remember things of when I was at such a young age. However, this night I remember VERY CLEARLY, I remember the final score, I remember that even when they were up 3-0 the french people prayed until the very last whistle of the game. I remember asking my mother “is this what happiness looks like?” to which she of course laughed and said  “yes dave, this is exactly what crazy-happiness looks like”.
I recall the face of old men and young kids my age jumping as if they were the same age… I remember that my parents joined the celebration because we were neither Brazilian nor French; I remember the whole in my stomach I could not explain but was certain it had to do with the tears coming out of 3 out of every 5 people that surrounded me. I saw more hugs than I could count, more cheers than I could hear, more partying than I could understand… After all I was quite young… but that day I fell in love with football.

About the author
The author considers himself a passionate. A person who enjoys stories, music, football, tech, movies and running. He regualry blogs and podcasts under the name The AppleWorm.

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