Lindsay came and invited me for a nightcap in the pub downstairs. When I got there, they were sitting at a table, drinks half gone, and looking rather tired. The only other people in the room were the bartender and an Asian customer sitting at the bar, staring intently at the World Cup match on the TV. I wouldn’t normally have thought much about him, but he was wearing a Korean flag as a cape, and that caught my attention.
We sat at our table talking until the adults excused themselves, and headed upstairs. I then pardoned myself and hit the toaletska, and Lindsay moved our empties to the bar, and, sitting, ordered another round. When I came out she introduced me to the Korean fan, Allen. No kidding, he’d spent some time in Boston, liked Allen Iverson, and took that to be his “english” name. Well, it was a real barnburner, Switzerland versus Korea, 1-0 in the second half. Lindsay and I decide to start rooting for Korea, since there were no Swiss people to be disappointed, and Allen was thrilled! We ended up ordering a couple more rounds and a Cuban Montecristo (perfectly legal here) and by the end of the game, Lindsay, Allen and I are chanting (phonetically as near as I can get) O Pees Korea - Victory to Korea, and Te Hu Mingu - kind of like us cheering U - S - A, but for the Republic of Korea. The bartender was trying hard not to laugh at the three of us, but I know her real concern was the obvious hooliganism that would follow if we were allowed to continue to drink. So after finding out where the good places to go in Korea are, we exchanged email addresses took some pictures, and said our goodbyes. Korea lost two nothing to the Swiss, but we don’t blame ourselves. You can only do so much cheering.
After that, I was feeling much better about the small identity crisis I was having. Te Hu Mingu!
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