A Report From Wine Explorer Diego Samper
Paris, France
Dear Matt,
Yesterday, the World Cup began in Mexico City.
For the next few weeks, much of the world will organize its life around a ball.
I like soccer.
I grew up with it. I understand the nervous pacing, the bad predictions, the superstition, and the strange feeling that your country has handed its emotional stability to 11 men in shorts.
But honestly, I am in favor of any sport that gets me together with friends.
Soccer, American football, baseball, basketball, tennis, boxing, hockey. I do not really care what the excuse is.
A good game gives people a reason to show up.
Someone brings food. Someone brings beer. Someone opens wine. Someone talks too much before the game and goes very quiet when things get tense.
That is the part I love.
The game is the excuse.
The table is the point.
America Understands the Table
And America understands this better than almost anyone.
Tailgates. Super Bowl parties. Baseball afternoons. College basketball in March. NBA nights. A grill in the backyard. A cooler full of beer. A bottle someone brought because, “I heard this one is good.”
Right now, the U.S. is having one of those great sports stretches.
The NBA Finals are happening, and the Knicks are suddenly one win away from their first championship since 1973. This week, they came back from 29 points down against the Spurs and won by one.
In February, the U.S. men’s hockey team beat Canada, 2–1, in overtime, winning its first Olympic gold medal in 46 years.
And now the World Cup has arrived in Mexico, the U.S., and Canada.
That is a lot of excuses to get together.
And I am in favor of all of them.
World Cup Memories
My first World Cup memories are from 1994, when the tournament was in the U.S.
I was young. I remember Striker, the mascot. I remember the final. And I remember Roberto Baggio’s face after missing the penalty against Brazil.
That is the strange thing about sports.
You remember faces. You remember rooms. You remember who was sitting where. You remember what everyone said right before everything went wrong.
Four years ago, when Argentina won the World Cup, I joined the madness properly.
I wore the same pants, the same shoes, and the same Argentina shirt for every match I watched.
Now I am worried because those shoes are long gone.
Superstitions.
Or cábalas, as we say in Argentina.
Do I actually believe my outfit helped Messi lift the trophy?
Of course not.
But Argentina is a superstitious country, and I decided to participate.
That may be the right word for all of this.
Participate.
Not just watch. Take part.
Invite someone over. Cook something. Open something. Make the game bigger than the score.
Wine Belongs Around the Game
A game has its own magic. Luck, ritual, charm, whatever you want to call it.
Wine has some of that too.
Not because wine belongs directly with the game.
It does not.
Wine belongs to the part around it. The friends coming over. The food on the table. The nervous joke before kickoff. The host opening something good because this is not just another Tuesday.
That is why something Marcos Llorente said earlier this year stayed with me.
Llorente is a Spanish footballer for Atlético Madrid, and he is in Spain’s squad for this World Cup.
He is not exactly careless with his body.
He is one of those modern athletes who seems to think about everything. What he eats. When he eats. How he trains. How he sleeps. What kind of light fills his house after sunset.
Spanish newspapers have covered his routines because they are unusual enough to make people argue about them. The whole modern gospel of optimization.
Which makes his wine comment even better.
After opening a bottle of 1995 Romanée-Conti with his wife, he said the honest thing:
“As for health, of course I know wine is not optimal for me. I’m not stupid. But what I get from opening a bottle with my family, the conversations, the hugs, the memories, is infinitely greater than any negative aspect.”
That line stayed with me.
Because that is wine.
Not excess.
Not showing off, even if that Romanée-Conti he opened costs more than most of us would ever spend on a bottle.
Not pretending alcohol is medicine.
A bottle opened with people you love. A conversation that lasts longer than planned. A meal that becomes a memory.
Llorente does not deny the tradeoff. That is why I believe him.
He says wine is not optimal.
Then he says there are things in life that matter more than being optimal.
I think he is right.
There is a type of health you cannot buy. You cannot track it with a ring. You cannot measure it on an app.
It is having people around your table.
Pleasure, Not Excess
A few NBA players seem to understand this too. CJ McCollum has made Oregon wine. Dwyane Wade has Wade Cellars. Carmelo Anthony has been public about his love of wine.
But the point is not celebrity bottles.
The point is that even people whose bodies are their business still make room for wine and the table.
Maybe serious athletes do not avoid pleasure.
Maybe the best ones just understand the difference between pleasure and excess.
That is the difference I care about.
Not drinking because the bottle is there.
Opening something because the people are there.
A Bottle That Fits the Mood
And that is the ideal setup for a game.
You do not need a complicated menu. You need appetite. Something on the grill. Something salty on the table. A few glasses. A bottle that fits the mood.
Maybe it is Argentine wine for Argentina.
American wine for the home team.
We have wines for those occasions, including a few American bottles I would be happy to put on a noisy table.
But the bottle is not the point.
The people are.
And this World Cup gives us 104 excuses to remember that.
One hundred and four chances to call a few friends, put something on the table, and open something good.
The game is the excuse.
The table is the point.
To your health,
Diego Samper
Wine Explorer
