When I first moved to NYC, I watched the World Cup with friends at a bar downtown. I remember walking to the bar and passing many Irish, Italian, American and French bars with customers overspilling from the watering holes, everyone clad in their team’s respective jersey. The commaraderie was fun (and funny) to witness. The craziest part of the day was when I walked past a girl with her entire body painted as the Italian flag (lucky for her, Italy won that year).

The World Cup is unlike American football and baseball seasons. Yes, we get excited for a new season of these sports each year but the World Cup only happens every four years. There is a different kind of excitement because the anticipation has a chance to build up for such a long period of time. And so, here we are again.

I respect every sport. I may not understand any one of them completely or be as fanatic about them as, say, my brother; however, I love being around people with incredible passion for athletics. I get a warm fuzzy feeling simply by being a part of something–a team of people supporting the actual team. (This all justifies why I missed USA’s goal against England this past Saturday…I was talking, not paying attention when they scored…my brother scolded me.)

A lot has changed in four years. Yet, the warm fuzzy feeling is a staple. All fans possess it to some degree: it’s what forces us to stay up until 4:30 a.m. just to watch New Zealand play Slovakia, it’s what allows us to wear outfits (without embarrassment) that match thousands of other people and yes, it’s what makes us paint our body in our country’s flag. So let your warm fuzzy feeling out! GO USA!