Sunday, July 13, 2014

Watching the World Cup on TV in Abu Dhabi


There are not many solid answers I can provide in a very questionable place like Abu Dhabi but one true opinion I can express (and not get incarcerated for it) is that the people who live within these UAE borders are addicted to football.

It is a healthy addiction. If you take away all the shisha smoke and late nights...

Every four years, when the World Cup rolls around, their addiction can be witnessed in full force at all hours of the night. Ramadan does not get in the way and when there is no where to sit, it is just a simple challenge they will easily overcome. They usually just sit on the ground.

Now picture this: Because of the tournament, I have been getting out of the office between midnight and 1am each night. When something like a hairdryer hits me in the face as I march out the back door and into the steamy darkness, children as young as 9 years old are seen kicking a little soccer ball around a dusty alley nearby. Remember, it's 1 in the morning and these children are impersonating Lionel Messi in the middle of the night without any adult supervision around.

When I cross the street en route to my normal taxi pick-up spot, I pass a rundown shisha lounge that is usually collecting dust during the very stagnate lunch hours. But when the match is on at night -- most World Cup matches start at midnight in the UAE -- there are so many people packed in the lounge that the unlucky ones now have their faces smeared against the front window glass in an attempt to grab just an obstructed view of the television.


Like all the neighborhood shisha lounges sprinkled across Abu Dhabi, they do not serve alcohol so essentially what you have is all Arab men (not a woman in sight) sucking on their own personal shisha hoses while each and every one of them are transfixed on the television. Nothing can be heard but the bubbling sound of a shisha hookah. That, and of course, the exaggerated Arabic TV commentator getting way too excited about a midfield pass sequence.

It is easy to grab a taxi at the corner because everyone who is anyone is already watching the match. The No 1 subject of conversation between myself and the cab driver is, you guessed it, the World Cup. I always ask them who their favorite player is. I always tell myself to tip him extra if he does not mention Messi, Ronaldo or Neymar. I have not been giving out many big tips this month.

During the 10-minute drive to my building, we pass several more establishments showing the action as the local football addiction gets more fierce. At one particular restaurant, they have a projector screen showing the match outside. It's over 100 degrees out. No problem. The people will still come.



Not only will they come, but after they have reached their max and the patio is filled to the brim, a gaggle of day laborers decide it's a good idea to sit and stand on the nearby sidewalk -- only a few feet from a busy four-lane road -- as the only thing between them and the skewed view of the screen is a huge bush. That group of the 'sidewalk watchers', as I like to call them, has been growing in numbers each day this month.

"Crazy place we live in, huh?" I ask the taxi driver, who has to swerve just a bit to avoid one of the addicts. I usually sit in the front seat so I always get a response to local inquiries.

(in broken English) "Where are you from? The States? They don't really like football there. You guys like things like Michael Jordan, McDonald's and ... Israel."

For good reason, the cab ride finished in silence.

When I got to my building, you could see the activity brewing before I even stepped out of the car. I guess I live in more of an upscale place, based on the number of traditional white Emirati gandooras you see packed into the over-priced coffee shops. It's like walking through a sea of white on my way to the elevator.


Once again, nothing can be heard but a few murmurs from the addicts and that Arabic TV commentator, who will probably need a pacemaker before the tournament is over.

My favorite part of the night is when I get to my front door and wonder if my beautiful wife -- a converted football fan for the month -- is still awake or not. On this particular night, she decided to turn in early. But before she retired, she left me a sweet note on the counter and connected my computer to the TV with my favorite hacker sports streaming web site all ready to go.

This is the best way to watch the World Cup. With my feet up on my own couch and the volume turned all the way down so my sweetie can get her beauty sleep. And who really wants to listen to that Arabic TV commentator have a heart attack anyway?




No comments:

Post a Comment

What do you think? The floor is yours...
Leave your comments here.