Barber: Emotions swing during Mexico-Sweden match

Everyone has their vision of America. Mine was reshaped Wednesday, as dozens of Mexican-American soccer fans, fueled by beer and coffee and pride of heritage, pumped their fists and joined in a chorus of “Ko-re-a! Ko-re-a!” It wasn't even 9 a.m. yet.

The United States lost its invitation to the World Cup, but our closest neighbor is at the party. And since Mexico began its 2018 Cup bid by beating powerful Germany, support for El Tri has been at a fever pitch.

To experience the fervor, I reported to a venue called Victory House on Wednesday morning. It's part of Epicenter Sports and Entertainment at Piner Road and Coffey Lane in Santa Rosa. Victory House is not a classic, cozy sports bar. It's mostly one big, bright, open room with banks of flat-screens - seven behind the bar, nine on the far wall - so massive that I might have been at an eSports competition.

When I showed up at 6:40 a.m., there were only a few clusters of sleepy fans. But the stream began to flow, and every seat in the house was taken by the 15th minute of the Mexico-Sweden match. There were lots of kids, lots of women, lots of Chicharito jerseys, plus a couple of supporters draped in Mexican flags, a regal older man in a cowboy hat and a guy wearing a black lucha libre mask, an accessory that didn't prevent him from chugging beer.

At one table sat a pair of women and two kids, maybe 12 and 9. The boys wore suits, complete with neckties. I was dying to know why, but this family didn't want to talk to the nosey white guy with the notebook.

This is an interesting time to be a Mexican immigrant in America, to say the least. California, and especially its job market, screams, “We need you!” But Washington, DC, hurls insults and insists, “We don't want you!”

These sentiments weren't lost on Aurora O'Connor, who sat at the bar with her husband, Sergio Huerta, to watch the game. “I just want any Latin American country to win this year,” O'Connor told me.

She and several of her work colleagues had pulled a night shift at Park View Post Acute, a residential treatment center, then zipped over to Victory House for the big game. She is not Mexican-American, but her husband is, and she felt that a good World Cup showing by Latin America, and especially by Mexico, would make a statement in these divisive times.

“We have a very big footprint in this country, and we're not going to go away,” O'Connor said. “And we're getting bigger. So we have to have a way of having people who are very ignorant open their eyes and see that we're not going anywhere.”

Jesse Ventura saw it differently. Not the former pro wrestler and Minnesota governor, but the dapper gentleman wearing a Fila-style warmup jacket and matching shirt, fedora, earrings and trimly shaped goatee.

“I separate the two,” Ventura told me. “Sports is sports, and politics is politics.”

Opinions on the U.S. Men's National Team also were decidedly mixed.

“I root for the USA,” said the luchador, who identified himself as El Lobo Sierra. He was born in Mexico, but moved to America at the age of 7 months. “Everything I know is Estados Unidos,” he added. “Man, I watched John Wayne. I got the whole Clint Eastwood collection at home. Me and my pops, we watched old Westerns.”

Juan Jorge, 27, is an American citizen, too, but his soccer allegiance doesn't come north of the border. “There is no such thing as a second-favorite team,” Jorge said. “The best way to explain it is like the Niners and the Raiders. I grew up hating one. I love this country, but I hate their soccer team.”

He and a few friends were sharing a container of beer the size and shape of an old-fashioned gas pump. Victory House calls it a beer tube; it holds 100 ounces, enough to fill your Studebaker. One of Jorge's pals, Cruz Esparza, agreed with his assessment of the Americans. “I've tried watching their games, and I just can't enjoy them,” he said. “I get bored.”

Boredom was not part of Wednesday's program. If you've watched a World Cup game in a partisan establishment, you know what it looked like at Victory House.

The whole room clapped as the game began. Following a near miss in the 18th minute, fans chanted “Mexico!” (clap-clap-clap), “Mexico!” (clap-clap-clap).” But hands clutched heads and covered faces when Sweden's Ludwig Augustinsson scored in the 50th minute. The room was so quiet that you could clearly hear Fox commentator Jorge Perez-Navarro unspooling the word, goooooooooaaaaaallllllll.”

“Come on,” people implored as the Mexicans continued to struggle. “You gotta be kidding me,” someone groaned when a Swedish player fell to the ground in apparent agony. And when the Swedes scored their third goal of the half in the 74th minute, there were cries of, ‘Oh, my God.” El Lobo Sierra lifted his pint glass to the TV, toasting a worthy opponent, or perhaps his own star-crossed fate.

“The Swedens,” he began, then paused. “What do you call them? The Swedes? They're tall mother(bleepers).”

The Mexican team appeared to be wilting, and so did its faithful followers.

An interesting dynamic took hold at Victory House, though. The Germany-Korea game kicked off simultaneously with Mexico-Sweden, and held implications for El Tri. Mexico would advance to the second round with a win or a tie. But it would also move on if the Germans lost or tied. Everyone assumed that Germany, the defending champion, would roll over Korea. But after 90 minutes of play, that match was a scoreless tie.

With Sweden dominating, attention turned to the plucky Koreans. Sure enough, Kim Young-gwon scored 2 minutes into extra time, and the room erupted. For a moment. Then it reduced to a murmur as officials waved off the goal before fleeing to a video monitor to review the play. “That's a goal!” Ventura said to no one in particular. “It stands.”

He was right. The point stood, and Victory House echoed first with chants of “Mejico! Mejico!” Then with the refrain “Korea! Korea!” Nothing builds international affection like the World Cup's shape-shifting group stage.

A few minutes later, Sweden officially beat Mexico, and it was as if no one noticed. All eyes were glued to Korea-Germany, where the underdogs sealed their upset with an empty-net goal just before the final whistle.

Mexico had performed horribly, but survived to see the knockout round. Feelings were all over the map.

“They're a little bit mixed,” Ventura said. “A little bit disappointed, a little bit happy, thanks to Korea. We made it to the next round, but I would have liked Mexico to control their own destiny.”

The emotion that followed the patrons out of the building was hope. Team Mexico was alive. It's all that mattered, despite the team's shortcomings, and despite the walls - real and psychic - that are being constructed in American public life.

“Soccer builds more bridges than burns bridges,” Ventura said. “I think if the world was based on soccer, you kind of respect one another, and then at the end of the game you're friends again. I understand how ugly things are right now. But you always gotta have hope, you always gotta look to the future.”

Even if it's the very near future.

“Hey, where can we find some Korean barbecue?” someone shouted to El Lobo as Victory House cleared out. He just nodded through his black mask.

You can reach columnist Phil Barber at 707-521-5263 or phil.barber@pressdemocrat.com. Follow him on Twitter: @Skinny_Post.