One is perhaps tempted to write only in poetry or metaphor or allegory after an emotionally draining match, as that one no doubt was.  All I know is that my friend, who normally professes to hate soccer, pounded his keyboard at work nearly to smithereens when Landon Donovan scored in the 92nd minute.  The game was wild, woolly, and could have finished 10-9, and it's easy to fall into speculation about how this match will affect soccer viewing in the USA, but really, all I know is that right now, a man who claimed to not like soccer got swept up in the moment.  That bare fact, bereft of any social impact, seems enough for the present.

What a morning; what a match.