We Went There: Watching the USMNT on Copacabana Beach in Rio «

 

Uma visão psicodélica da Copa:

"I bought my first caipirinha from a woman with a cloudy right eye. Rio melts easily if you let it, and after a few days, you start to feel like letting it, before it makes you crazy. A few sober days in this city and you can hear the vines growing, hear the stone crumbling on the facades of the Portuguese palaces. Get a little fucked up and everything runs into colored lights. You stream down Copacabana behind a group of mad Chileans singing to a ukulele. You wind up at tables full of strange American tourists who tell you about the shady deals the cops cut with the drug dealers to keep the beaches safe. They heard about it late one night in Lapa, while they watched a gang of cross-dressing prostitutes stomp a would-be mugger. If you go to Ipanema, you can find a little serenity, a place where you don’t hear the mountains as they disintegrate. But everyone goes to Lapa. Everyone watches somebody get stomped."

read the story by Brian Philips: 

We Went There: Watching the USMNT on Copacabana Beach in Rio «