I’ll admit something that may get me banned from ESPN.
I don’t really follow soccer.
As near as I can tell, it’s twenty-two world-class athletes running several miles in perfect physical condition to produce a final score that resembles a baseball game after the first inning.
Yet somehow, while the World Cup has been going on, I’ve become fascinated.
Not by soccer.
By the tourists.
Millions of fans have arrived from around the globe, and according to social media, they’ve fallen hopelessly in love with America. Not just the Grand Canyon or New York City.
I’m talking about Buc-ee’s.
Waffle House.
Walmart.
Ranch dressing.
Imagine flying 5,000 miles across the Atlantic only to return home saying, “Forget the Statue of Liberty. Have you people SEEN aisle 14 at Walmart?”
European visitors have wandered into Buc-ee’s like Victorian explorers discovering Atlantis.
“THIS...IS...A...GAS...STATION?!”
Technically, yes.
Emotionally, it’s a gas station, convenience store, barbecue restaurant, gift shop, sporting goods outlet, candy warehouse, clothing boutique, and minor religious experience all under one roof.
The beaver alone deserves diplomatic immunity.
Then there’s ranch dressing.
Foreign visitors are discovering ranch with the enthusiasm of archaeologists uncovering a lost civilization.
“I’ve been alive thirty years,” they seem to be saying, “and nobody mentioned this?”
Frankly, Europe owes us an apology.
The funniest part isn’t that international visitors love America.
It’s that so many American journalists seem genuinely shocked.
They apparently expected soccer fans to land at the airport, immediately burst into tears, and demand to be flown to Canada.
Instead, they found people taking selfies in front of oversized pickup trucks and posting videos titled, “America Has Unlimited Refills!!”
This seemed to catch certain members of the media completely off guard.
Some immediately concluded the tourists couldn’t possibly mean it.
Surely these visitors were pretending to enjoy themselves for internet clicks.
Because everyone knows nobody has ever sincerely enjoyed walking into a convenience store the size of Luxembourg.
The truth is, Americans have become so accustomed to America that we barely notice it anymore.
Of course the highways are enormous.
Of course the grocery stores have seventeen brands of peanut butter.
Of course you can buy windshield wipers, beef jerky, camping equipment, a kayak, three lawn chairs, and enough bottled water to survive the apocalypse without leaving Walmart.
We call that Tuesday.
Visitors call it unbelievable.
Now, before anyone accuses me of saying America is perfect, relax.
We have potholes.
Politics.
The DMV.
Whoever designed airport security.
We have plenty to work on.
But maybe it took millions of soccer fans to remind us of something we’ve forgotten.
For all our arguing, apologizing, and constant predictions that America is collapsing sometime between lunch and dinner, much of the world still looks at this country and says, “Wow.”
That’s worth remembering.
Especially these days.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m suddenly craving Waffle House... and a gallon of ranch dressing.
The World Cup has brought millions of visitors to America, and something unexpected is happening.
Instead of seeing the country the way many in the mainstream media describe it, tourists are falling in love with Buc-ee’s, Walmart, Waffle House... and yes, even ranch dressing.
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