June 27, 2026
We spent the last forty-eight hours pushing hard toward the north, leaving the heavy southern humidity behind as we raced up the scenic coast toward New Jersey. The MG ran beautifully the entire way, its vintage engine humming a perfectly rhythmic soundtrack against the constant backdrop of the rolling Atlantic waves crashing on the shore. By Saturday evening, we had made it all the way to a lively, bustling beachside boardwalk, located just a stone's throw away from the massive stadium where the eyes of the world have officially descended.
The energy in this town was purely electric, radiating through every alley and street corner. The group stages are wrapping up, and every pub, tavern, and cafe along the boardwalk had its doors flung wide open to the night air, letting the cool ocean breeze mix seamlessly with the thunderous roar of fans. We squeezed our way into a packed tavern positioned right over the open water to watch Colombia take on Portugal.
The atmosphere was an unbelievable carnival of color. Supporters clad in bright yellow shirts intermingled with European fans waving flags and singing at the top of their lungs. The game on the screen was pure tactical artistry—the technical brilliance of Portugal clashing head-on with the joyful, rhythmic defensive flair of the Colombian side. Every pass was executed with razor-sharp precision, and the crowd inside the tavern was living and dying with every single touch of the ball.
Despite numerous near-misses and stunning saves from both world-class goalkeepers, neither side could break the deadlock. The match concluded in a tense, strategic 0-0 draw. The boardwalk outside seemed to hum with shared relief and excitement as fans from completely different corners of the earth hoisted glasses of sugarcane rum, laughing right along and celebrating life together. Sitting there in the middle of that crowd, watching people from all walks of life raising toasts under the exact same roof, you quickly realize that it doesn't matter what coast or country you call home. Everyone on this stone tumbling through the universe is ultimately just looking for their own small pocket of peace, a beautiful view, and a good game to celebrate with fast friends.
June 27, 2026
We spent the last forty-eight hours pushing hard toward the north, leaving the heavy southern humidity behind as we raced up the scenic coast toward New Jersey. The MG ran beautifully the entire way, its vintage engine humming a perfectly rhythmic soundtrack against the constant backdrop of the rolling Atlantic waves crashing on the shore. By Saturday evening, we had made it all the way to a lively, bustling beachside boardwalk, located just a stone's throw away from the massive stadium where the eyes of the world have officially descended.
The energy in this town was purely electric, radiating through every alley and street corner. The group stages are wrapping up, and every pub, tavern, and cafe along the boardwalk had its doors flung wide open to the night air, letting the cool ocean breeze mix seamlessly with the thunderous roar of fans. We squeezed our way into a packed tavern positioned right over the open water to watch Colombia take on Portugal.
The atmosphere was an unbelievable carnival of color. Supporters clad in bright yellow shirts intermingled with European fans waving flags and singing at the top of their lungs. The game on the screen was pure tactical artistry—the technical brilliance of Portugal clashing head-on with the joyful, rhythmic defensive flair of the Colombian side. Every pass was executed with razor-sharp precision, and the crowd inside the tavern was living and dying with every single touch of the ball.
Despite numerous near-misses and stunning saves from both world-class goalkeepers, neither side could break the deadlock. The match concluded in a tense, strategic 0-0 draw. The boardwalk outside seemed to hum with shared relief and excitement as fans from completely different corners of the earth hoisted glasses of sugarcane rum, laughing right along and celebrating life together. Sitting there in the middle of that crowd, watching people from all walks of life raising toasts under the exact same roof, you quickly realize that it doesn't matter what coast or country you call home. Everyone on this stone tumbling through the universe is ultimately just looking for their own small pocket of peace, a beautiful view, and a good game to celebrate with fast friends.
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