One of the best things about living in Seattle is that a quick, 3-hour road trip – or Amtrak train – whisks you away to a cool, new city, be it a weird one (Portland) or an expensive, but fun and diverse, place in a new country (Vancouver). And though both spots have MLS teams to go see, few games I’ve been to in any of the three cities have matched the excitement and importance of the Women’s World Cup final.
Having traveled quite far to attend the last four men’s World Cups (Japan/Korea, Germany, South Africa, and Brasil), it was fantastic to have the top women’s teams playing high-level, albeit slower-paced, games up the street. So once the draw concluded and the match-ups were set, I knew I’d be attending at least two games: US vs Nigeria in the first-round and the Final (I eventually made it to four in Vancouver, including two Canada games to see Golazo ambassador Kaylyn Kyle).
A good friend of mine secured group seats for the US game, so when single-game tickets went on sale, it was all about the Final. I was willing to pay for a good seat and was waiting for something besides ends and corners in the upper bowl to open up…but they never did. The Final sold out the day it went on sale and I was shut out.
Fortuitously, an old friend and former Season Ticket Holder of mine at RSL, Brian Kramer, reached out about a month before the tournament to let me know he’d be unable to attend the Final as previously planned and offered up his ticket for sale, which I quickly snapped up.
Fast forward to 6:00 am on July 5th.
My alarm made it clear that getting 5 hours of sleep – I’d decided to stick around for 4th of July festivities in Seattle and would attempt to beat the American masses to the border early in the morning -was not a great idea and would make for a very long day, but I had faith the adrenaline, some drinks, and a victory would surely get me through it. There’d be no going to bed early to recuperate if the US won, to be sure.
After some slight delays due to Leo’s 4th of July party, a stop at a gas station, and another at QFC for some beers – alcohol is expensive in Canada – we finally hit the road at 8 am. We thought we’d be in for an extra-long roadie due to the expected US crush at the border, but ended up lucking out big-time. We made it in 2.5 hours, which included a 20 minute delay at the border. Faster than I’d ever made it! Whew.
On one of my previous trips – this was my 4th roadie to Canada in 3 weeks for World Cup action – my friend Aretha showed me a small alley where I could park for free (this is very rare in Vancouver, where they’d charge you to breathe if they could), so it’s the first place we went. The fates smiled upon us weary travelers once again and, after a short wait, someone pulled out and we made ourselves at home. It wasn’t even 11 am, which put us well-ahead of schedule. We were discussing where we’d get coffee, when Leo suggested we celebrate our early arrival & free parking spot with a drink. Out came the growler and red cups.
After some sipping and some chugging, were set off on a mission to find:
- Coffee
- Kahlua
- Posterboard to make some USWNT signs
We completed the mission with flying colors, opting for some Tim Horton’s so that Leo could have his Canadian maple, which proved to be a mistake. Our iced coffee – which we expected to be black coffee over ice – ended up being an overly-sweet, milky concoction that neither of us liked, but drank half of, anyway (Kahlua ftw).
It didn’t take long to return to the car, make some signs, restock backpack beers, and hit the road towards BC Place, where the Final was taking place. The Kingston was our first destination, having learned the hard way prior to the US vs Nigeria game that Boston Pizza was a bad place to pregame, despite its location.
We arrived, said hello to some friends/workers whom I’d met on previous WWC trips, and ordered Fat Tug IPAs. Liz & Em, sisters who had roadied from LA/SF, respectively, without tickets to the Final, joined us 20 minutes later or so. They quickly went from no tickets to two tickets at face value thanks to my friend Matt, with whom we’d meet later for a final drink at, of all places, Boston Pizza.
After pregaming a bit, we began making our way to Doolin’s, where the AO March to the Match would be departing. We didn’t quite make it to the bar, but were able to join the massive pro-American march, which consumed the entire street for a few blocks, on time. It was an impressive turnout – albeit not surprising, given Vancouver’s proximity to Soccer Cities USA in Oregon and Washington – that reminded me of the US vs Ghana march in Brasil a year earlier. Leo can attest to that.
A slow, memorable walk to the stadium ensued. We chanted at the top of our lungs, posed for pictures, and tried our best not to lose each other or drop our phones. It was a fantastic time! Our signs got some love and some hate, and we got more backpack beers and drunkenly danced about a bit in the plaza before heading in.
As luck would have it, I got a seat in the scorching sun again, though this time I was prepared and brought sunscreen. It didn’t take long for the Carli Lloyd show to begin and the game was over before halftime, when I was asked to put away my Pearl Harbor sign.
Seeing a historic, dominating performance like that at the stadium was something I’ll never forget; certainly one of the best US games I’ve been to, right behind:
- US vs Portugal in 2002 – my first USMNT game and a HUGE upset.
- US vs Algeria in 2010 – still get chills every time I see that goal.
- US vs Ghana in 2014 – finally didn’t shit the bed and got a little payback.
The post-game festivities did not disappoint. We saw Obama DJing near BC Place right after the game…
And, after a much-needed shower, went back out and ended up with Japanese headbands from Japan fans at Doolin’s before closing it down and opting for Mega Bite Pizza (cold & bad. Never again!), instead of Fritz. Not our finest decision that night.
Monday morning we hit the road to Seattle, making a quick stop a Duffin’s Donuts. I’d driven by this place many times, but had never eaten there before. Hungry and in no particular hurry, it was the perfect opportunity to finally check out the restaurant whose identity-crisis made me laugh every time I saw its signage.
It wouldn’t be our last stop, as we pulled off the last decent exit before the border to try to grab some local craft beer at the market. But, as we would learn after getting laughed at by the store personnel (“Beer, beer?! LOL, you’re in Canada!) they don’t sell beer at supermarkets in Canada…even though they sold wine at this one, which made no sense. I’d chalk it up as a total fail, but it wasn’t because we bought the local newspaper (with Carli & the US all over it) and took a chance on…
They were pretty good. But artificial, engineered food – which I typically avoid – tends to be. We eventually made it back to Seattle safe & very happy, despite the fact the return leg took us nearly twice as long as the drive to Canada.
The 90 minutes of misery at the border were brutal, but not as bad Japan’s 90 the day before.