Paris Review – Still Moving,

 

 "So: I watch Bosnia for my friends Sasa and Veba, because Bosnia reminded me so much of them—committed, creative, pensive, puckish. Colombia for my aunt Claudia and her mother, Nelly. For Alejandra, and Beti and Marlon, Japan, because they always, and almost always impractically, propose to play beautifully, thinking this time they’ll get it right. Algeria for Camus’s ghost and for their players born in France, who heard the call to come back. Nigeria because Rashidi Yekini’s goal at USA ’94, Nigeria’s first ever in a World Cup, touched me in some still inchoate way—and because few things in the world are better than a happy Teju Cole. Italy—despite the neutral hardwired animosity—for how Andrea Pirlo ambles on the field, far off from everyone’s pace, seemingly alone, surrounded not by defenders but rather by his own genius. Costa Rica for sixty-five-and-a-half years with no armed forces. Argentina for Messi—if only for Messi.

And if the U.S. wins, I’ll be happy for Clay and another Daniel and Clay’s son, Gus. If Ghana wins I’ll be happy for Africa and the black-starred strands of DNA that sing their dirges and daydreams of diaspora, as there’s every chance in the world that what we now call Ghana is where my lifeline began. And if Portugal pulls off what looks this morning like the impossible, I’ll remind myself that Lisbon is one of my favorite cities. Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself."

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Paris Review – Still Moving, Rowan Ricardo Phillips: