July 6, 2026
We turned the MGB back north, leaving the palm trees of Florida behind to head toward the towering skyline of New York. Driving instead of sailing has allowed us to glide effortlessly across state lines, catching matches up and down the coast with an ease that a sailboat simply couldn't offer. By Monday afternoon, we had parked the convertible near a lively waterfront boardwalk on the edge of the harbor, where the crisp ocean breeze carried the high-octane energy of a city caught up in a historic global tournament.
The local bars and pubs were a beautiful, crowded tapestry of international fans, but tonight the visual landscape belonged to two heavyweights: the iconic yellow-and-green jerseys of Brazil and the sea of red and blue flags carried by the passionate traveling supporters of Norway. Squeezing into a crowded, rustic wood tavern built right on the pilings over the water, Sweet Pea and I claimed a small table near the windows. We ordered a massive bucket of steamed blue crabs and garlic butter, paired with a few ice-cold local lagers, keeping our eyes glued to the massive screen for Brazil vs Norway.
What unfolded on the pitch was an absolute heavyweight knockout masterpiece. Brazil played with their signature samba flair, painting beautiful lines across the pitch with their attacking chemistry. But the Norwegians brought an unbelievable layer of grit, anchoring down like ancient oaks and neutralizing the Brazilian firepower with pure tactical physicality. Norway caught the favorites off guard with two brilliant, devastating counter-attacks that shook the tavern to its very foundations, locking in an unbelievable 1-2 upset victory over Brazil.
The establishment erupted into absolute madness as the final whistle blew, with local fans and traveling Europeans hoisting glasses together to toast an iconic display of sportsmanship. Walking back down the boardwalk under a dark sky punctuated by twinkling stars, I held Sweet Pea’s hand, listening to the soothing rhythm of harbor waves striking the wooden beams below. This land transportation experiment has given us a front-row seat to paradise and a tournament I will never forget. One choice keeps me in paradise, and the other, well, keeps me in paradise. Until next time, I'm going to sit right here and get back to doing what I do best... absolutely nothing.
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