World Cup
Last week, we received a package that grown men all over Germany weep upon receiving.
World Cup tickets.
That's right, F managed to score 2 tickets to the match up between Trinidad and Tobago and Sweden. However, even though they were actually mailed to us, getting them in our hands was not as easy as one would think.
F got an email from the World Cup people telling him that his tickets were on the way, and would arrive shortly. Since he is away during the week, and I am school during the day, there would be no one here to get them (they won't just leave them in the mailbox). So sure enough, I came home one day a week and a half ago to find the card from the post office telling us that there was a package waiting. F, with a tremble in his voice, asked me to go pick the tix up since we would be in Vienna that weekend.
I raced home from school the next day, trying to get to the post office before they closed. I waited on line, breathless and sweating (it was actually warm in D'dorf), and feeling a little excited myself about getting the tix. I got up to the counter, presented the card, and waited. When the clerk returned, he was actually holding a small box. He then said something unintelligible to me, which turned out to be him asking me for my passport. My passport! Well, I certainly didn't have that with me, as I don't make it a habit to carry it around, and certainly not to pick up things from the PO. As it turned out, even if I had had my passport with me, I wouldn't have been able to pick it up because I am not F, and the box was addressed to him.
I had to bring the card with me to Vienna and have F fill out the back stating that I was authorized to pick up the package, and then of course I had to show my passport and sign a paper acknowledging that I had received the tickets. Security is very tight for this Cup, and FIFA has gone to great lengths to ensure that only those people who bought the tickets through the lotteries attend the matches. Each ticket is barcoded, has some kind of chip in it, and has your name printed on it. I will also have to bring my passport to the match. So even if I didn't want to go and wanted to give my ticket to someone else, it would not be possible.
Here are some pics of what was inside the box from FIFA: a destination guide for Germany (including info about what to know before you go, getting around, communications, getting money, currency converter, and useful phrases, including, 'What team do you support?'); a tournament table (to keep track of the matches and winners); a handy plastic sleeve (to hold your tickets) with a lanyard to wear it around your neck (like a backstage pass for a concert); and a yellow/red card (I guess to give you some feeling like you have some control over any decisions made on the pitch).
F has just bought himself a Panini book, where he can collect and paste stickers of all the players in the World Cup (my friend K's boyfriend is also doing this, so I don't feel quite so much like I'm the only one living with a man-child. In fact, they will probably use us as a conduit to trade stickers...).
The reason I watch football. (His name is pronounced MIK-hai-el, sort of like Barishnykov.)
3 Comments:
The world has gone mad if this is what you have to go through to get soccer tickets. MAD, I tell you.
doesn't MIK-hai-el look like Joey from 'Blossom" all grown up?!?
I think Michael is a very good reason to watch football....
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