America and the Cup

AMERICA has six years before it hosts the 1994 World Cup, the most-watched sporting event in the world.

Six years before it can field a soccer team to take on the most talented squads in the world.

Six years before it can turn the nation on to a sport that's as American as Jacques Cousteau.

So, two days after the International Federation of Association Football (FIFA) announced that the United States will open 12 stadia to a month-long, 52-match tournament which will determine soccer's world champion, the question arises: can America pull it off?

Can the land of the Super Bowl, the World Series, the NBA Finals and the Final Four successfully host the world's most popular championship in cities where soccer fields number less than minituare golf courses?

Is Diego Maradona Argentinian?

IF any country could pull it off, it's the United States, the sports marketing empire of the world. The country that can hype up professional wrestling (or even a Tyson-Spinks championship fight?) should have no problem promoting the World Cup.

Imagine the summer of 1994, Husky Stadium, Seattle, Washington--Argentina vs. Brazil, 72,484 partisans on hand, every television in the world tuned in.

The marketing boys are having a field day. It's billed as "The Battle in Seattle" and "The War at the North Pacific Shore." Closed-circuit pay-per-view deals, cablevision, network television, international satellite link-ups. Even "Up Close and Personal" segments on such soon-to-be American sports heroes as Dutch winger, Ruud Gullitt. He takes it one game at a time.

The Argetinian goal post is covered with Coke stickers. The Brazilians have Budweiser stickers all over their goal. A giant Ford logo is imbedded in the center of the field. Billboards selling everything from stereos to sandwiches run around the stadium's edges.

The seats are covered in coordinating sections of red, white and blue, RUNDMC accompanies Bruce Springsteen for the national anthem. Walt Disney World produces the halftime extravaganza show, "Up with Soccer." Balloons and confetti fly everywhere. And then there's always Keith Jackson, the quintessential announcer.

"My, oh my, whoa Nellie, oh my. What a dandy of a game--a hoss from the streets of Rio, steals the ball at midfield. Maradona, Maradona, Maradona, Fumble!!!! Whoops, GOAL! GOAL! GOAL! Oh, my, whoa Nellie."

The marketing boys will have us eating soccer balls with our Corn Flakes (the offcial cereal of the Belgian squad) and Chiquita bananas (official fruit of the Italian soccer team). Want to know the up-to-date scores of each day's action? Call 1-900-KICKERS, brought to you by the friendly people at AT&T, the official communicators of the 1994 World Cup.

IMAGINE the summer of 1994, a brownstone stoop, Philadelphia, two 10-year-old kids:

"Hey Johnny, d'ya check out that Mexican team yesterday at JFK Stadium?"

"I was too busy watching the Irish down the French at Franklin Field."

"Guess what? I just bought a set of Topps bubble-gum World Cup cards. I finally got the entire Saudi Arabian team."

"Wow! I'll trade you two Colombian goalie cards and an official World Cup backscratcher for one Saudi."

"Get lost. Besides, I already have an official fly-swatter."

By 1994, the United States will have each American talking and breathing soccer. When America promotes an event, it goes all the way. Sort of like Maradona rushing across the length of the field for a last-second GOAL! GOAL! GOAL!

Can America pull it off?

Is Pele Brazilian?