Last Friday kicked off Mexico's quadrennial onset of frustration, cynicism, and self-loathing that only a chronically disappointing national soccer team could provoke. Like all devoted sports fans, the fresh opportunity for heartbreak was greeted with much fanfare and anticipation. Walking the streets that morning, every available outlet seemed to have a grainy TV plugged into it. La selección again proved maddening, only saving themselves from defeat with a late goal and leaving the battered fans relieved with a tie. That afternoon, playing soccer in the park, it was impossible to distinguish teammates as nearly everyone was wearing green. We played, even as the soaking rains of a fierce thunderstorm drenched us and turned the concrete plaza treacherously slippery.
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