Heartbreak and joy
Everybody has a favorite World Cup memory. Here are four of ours.
The first time
It was 1994. I had just turned 10, and the soccer moratorium in the Schaerlaeckens household was still in full effect. My mother loathed soccer -- as she still does -- and did everything in her power to keep me away from the, in her eyes, not-so-beautiful game. So watching the 1994 World Cup on television, the first I can properly remember, took a good deal of begging, finagling and finessing to watch.
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