Looking for Football Fever in Toronto

Going to a FIFA World Cup game has never been on my bucket list, but when Feng got tickets last fall, I happily confirmed I’d tag along.

Not to the game, mind you. Considering the ticket price, I would have had to pretend I was interested and following the action, and no amount of Football 101 classes could turn me into an convincing fan. Moody teen Mark glued to his phone would do a better job than me.

But sign me up for a Toronto trip. I like Toronto. Downtown is very walkable and busy, so plenty of fun material for someone like me who enjoys observing people and culture.

I was also hoping for true football fever. Maybe not the “let’s burn shit down because our team lost/won” kind you see in Europe, but some level of Canadian excitement about a game that makes billions of people happy worldwide.

See, I don’t watch football and I don’t particularly care for it, but I respect whatever makes people happy.

I like seeing people happy, or at the very least passionate about something.

Feng and Mark took the train to Exhibition Place.

I walked up Bay Street just because a bunch of teens draped in Canadian flags were heading that way. I ended up in Nathan Phillips Square, a fairly grey public square that comes alive for celebrations.

At 1 p.m., it was still pretty quiet. Some people were playing on the soccer pitch, most were eating hot dogs. Nothing really FIFA World Cup-ish was going on.

So I wandered around, looking for a place to happen and making stops along the way. This is a Tragically Hip song reference, for all of you non-Canadians here.

Well, not much was happening when the first World Cup match on Canadian soil officially started. Thank God for Latin American fans—every Spanish-speaking group I passed on the street was talking about “fútbol” or was dressed like they were on a pilgrimage to football Mecca.

Nathan Phillips Square finally came alive towards the end of the game, when Canada drew with Bosnia and Herzegovina. Football fever spread rapidly, and until the final whistle, it was just like in Europe or South America—tense faces, hope rising, annoyance at every missed opportunity, and finally relief and happiness.

It was a 1–1 draw, just in case you didn’t follow, which apparently counted as an excellent reason for both Bosnian and Canadian fans to cheer in the street.

And it was fun to watch on the street.