As some of you may know, I’m a massive soccer fan and have been to the last three men’s World Cups in Germany, South Africa, and Brazil. Each experience remains distinct in my mind for the different cities visited, the experiences shared, and the conversations and interactions had with locals.

In Germany in 2006, I vividly remember the 1,000,000-strong crowd of Germans packing the fan zone behind the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, waving their ubiquitous German flags, to watch Die Mannschaft[1] beat Argentina on penalties. In South Africa in 2010, it was Landon Donovan’s dramatic goal in extra time against Algeria that sent us into ecstasy and found us singing “America the Beautiful” in downtown Pretoria after the game. And in Brazil this past summer, it was parading, singing, and dancing in the pouring rain in Recife with all thousands of other American fans as we lost to Germany but still qualified for the knock-out round.

At the moment, I am planning on being in Russia in 2018, assuming the US doesn’t boycott it or there aren’t further reprehensible policies by FIFA or the host nation that make me reconsider pouring revenue into the event or the country. Suffice it to say, I do not plan on being in Qatar in 2022.

Given my passion for the beautiful game and the proximity of this year’s women’s World Cup, I decided to organize a trip to Canada with some of the usual suspects to watch my beloved USA take on Nigeria. Having spent four days in Vancouver and attended one match, I couldn’t help but notice some overwhelming differences between the two occasions.

5 Major Differences

  1. Level of Host Country Excitement

Now, I know Canada is not a soccer country. They’ll always be a hockey first, hockey second, and curling third kind of place. And there’s no need to apologize for that. But when your own country is playing in the tournament you’re hosting, you might want to devote more than one corner TV in the sports bar to the game, instead of blanked the bar with a Stanley Cup final that’s being contested by two non-Canadian teams. I’m just saying.

In the other countries in which I’ve attended the World Cup, the country comes to a virtual standstill for every match. Everyone is at the fan zones or the bars, and every TV is tuned to the game. Everyone is cheering, even when they don’t have a dog in the fight. The atmosphere is electric with fans from all competing countries screaming for their squad, albeit in very different numbers.

In fairness to the locals, the fan zone in Vancouver was apparently packed for the Canada games, but then, there was a much different demographic at the sports bars on Granville Island. The middle-aged Canadian men didn’t really seem to care too much about the fate of Team Canada, preferring to watch the Blackhawks pummel the Lightning. But you know who did care…

  1. Composition of Fans

Men’s World Cups, not surprisingly, are overwhelming attended by males. South Africa was a total sausage fest, and Brazil was only spared from being so by the droves of local females who were not shy about joining in the party or joining themselves in amorous embraces with the tourists. Not that I took part in any of that, of course.

The women’s World Cup, however, was dominated by tween and teenage girls with their parents dragged along for the ride. Vancouver had morphed into the world’s biggest Taylor Swift concert. Everywhere you looked, there were giggling girls in Alex Morgan jerseys. Granted, most of them were American and most of them were probably there for the USA vs. Nigeria game. But it was fascinating to see how much the women’s game has grown among girls of that age. There were boys there as well, to be sure, but they were greatly outnumbered by their female counterparts who were also adorned in not just the jerseys but the full kit of shorts, soccer socks, and soccer shoes. You could just imagine the next generation of global soccer stars talking about their first World Cup in Canada in a few years’ time.

There were also plenty of women in their twenties, thirties, and forties, and, perhaps unsurprisingly as well, no shortage of groups of lesbians sporting Megan Rapinoe-inspired haircuts. There was something for everyone. All of the attendants were friendly and in good spirits and seemed to just want to soak it all in.

  1. Money Spent

Unfortunately, the discrepancy between the money spent by FIFA on the men’s and women’s tournaments was readily apparent. First, there was the artificial turf that Abby Wambach rightly railed against. Soccer at the highest level should never be played on turf. It’s just wrong and inequitable and does the players a disservice. But there was also a massive discrepancy in the merchandise available at the fan zones and the stadiums. Which, to be honest, is a huge boner on FIFA’s part. We know how much FIFA loves money (a lot more than they like soccer apparently). So it was surprising to see them leave so much cash on the table when nearly every kid had a jersey or wanted a jersey and would have induced their parents to purchase more. You lose again, FIFA.

  1. Game Environment

Before you even enter the stadium at a men’s World Cup game, it’s a carnival atmosphere. There are booths and attractions and music and games. None of that was on display outside the stadium—again,, credit FIFA. Given the amount of kids and families, there also wasn’t the amount of drinking and alcohol-fueled revelry to be had (though we did our best). Still, the American Outlaws[2] did a nice job of organizing the pre-match march to the stadium, which boasted several thousand USA fans of all ages.

The in-stadium atmosphere was again a product of the family and lack-of-alcohol dynamic as it was a much tamer affair. There wasn’t the usual profane verbal abuse of the referee and the other team that I grew fond of during my years attending Brazilian league soccer matches. The 90% pro-American crowd mostly sat in its seats and politely clapped, expect for the lone Wambach goal that had everyone up and cheering. At one point, you could hear the fifty or so Nigerian fans beating their drums and chanting throughout the entire 50,000-person stadium. Needless to say, we’ve got more than a little ways to go to catch up to the raucous environment of a men’s game in other soccer-mad countries. At no point was beer thrown on me (or urine for that matter), nor did I ever feel in actual physical jeopardy. Come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t all for the bad.

  1. Pre-Game and After Parties

We went to the night before pre-match party at the Commodore Ballroom hosted by USA Soccer and while it was a fun event, it was decidedly family-friendly and not at all like the raucous pre-game parties in Brazil. Again, this was not terribly surprising given the composition of the crowd that showed up. It was great to see USA soccer legend Mia Hamm, who led the cheers at one point and good to see people decked out in their red, white, and blue finery even the night before the big game.

After the game was over, we stumbled upon the American Outlaw after-party and were fairly certain that this was the kind of “mature” event that was more our speed. The celebration was in full swing, replete with tunes of classic Americana from Bon Jovi and Bruce Springsteen. My brother and I ended up dancing with two very lovely girls in their early twenties (we verified). We stepped off the dance floor, and my brother bought them a couple beers. After talking with them for about ten minutes, they asked if we wouldn’t mind watching their drinks while they went and danced.

“No problem,” my brother said.

“We’ll be right here,” I assured them.

Not thirty seconds later, an older woman, unknown to either my brother or me, came over and grabbed the two beers.

“Sorry, those are our friends’ beers,” I told the woman.

“I know,” she replied, “they’re my daughters.”

And that ladies and gentlemen, is the women’s World Cup.

1 Beautiful Similarity

If there’s one overwhelming positive to be taken away from the four World Cups I’ve attended, it’s that the Yanks have finally gotten it. It took us a while, and while we sometimes lag behind the rest of the world in certain global cultural phenomena, when we come, we come big.

The evolution of the American soccer fan is now complete. I saw almost no USA fans in Germany. In fact, I was such a novelty with my American flag that people stopped me in the street to take pictures. “An American soccer fan!” they would exclaim. “Wow!” In South Africa, we had a strong contingent but were still outnumbered by every major European power. In Brazil, only the host nation bought more tickets than the Americans. We were everywhere, holding our own against the German fans and even rivalling the vast number of mulleted Argentines who had driven up to Rio to crash in their cars and campers next to Copacabana Beach.[3]

We owned the city of Vancouver last Tuesday as the whole down was decked out in red, white, and blue. Everywhere you looked, there was another American kid in a Morgan or Dempsey jersey. The eight and ten year-old sisters sitting behind me in the stadium were having a nuanced conversation about the Nigerian off-sides trap. We’re already winning off the field. When this generation of kids grows up, we’ll be ready to compete on the field with the big boys[4] as well. I know we say this every World Cup cycle, but this time it might actually be true: the golden age of American soccer is finally upon us.

[1] The nickname for the German national team

[2] The official fan group of USA Soccer. Full disclosure, I’m a member of the American Outlaws LA chapter. You can check them out here: https://www.theamericanoutlaws.com/

[3] The Argentine flock was eventually moved by the none-too-pleased Brazilian government to a decidedly less central spot near the airport on the outskirts of the city

[4] We were the pacesetters for the girls so no catching up required there.