Posted by Jemele Hill
SOMEWHERE IN SOUTH AFRICA -- As Joe Namath once famously said, Miss America isn't walking through that door at 2 a.m.
In my case, it wasn't quite that late. It was a little before midnight, during the Brazil-North Korea game, which I was watching at an adult beverage establishment.
OK, a bar.
And walking through the door wasn't Idris Elba -- my dream man -- but a World Cup coach who shall remain anonymous. And let's just say he didn't sidle up to me because he wanted to discuss soccer strategy.
Before your minds dive into the gutter, nothing came of it, and his misdirected romantic intentions were spurned. But the encounter was comical because he spoke only Spanish and I'm extremely proficient in English. Although I minored in Spanish at Michigan State, it's gone virtually unused since I graduated.
However, I remembered enough Spanish to know that this coach was trying to pick me up. Como se dice "hook up" en Espanol? But even if I hadn't known a lick of Spanish, I think I still would have figured out this coach's ultimate aim. The amorous look in his eyes, the winks that punctuated every sentence and asking for my room number made it a dead giveaway.
Thankfully, I remembered three Spanish words that put a halt to his advances -- "Tengo novio" (I have a boyfriend) and "Soy la periodista para ESPN" (I'm a journalist for ESPN). After I said that, he nodded and said something about being "amigos." Then we ended our conversation on a handshake.
Nevertheless, it was flattering. I guess it's true that love -- or rather, lust -- is a universal language.