Suddenly, funny things started to happen: I began receiving soccer publications from all over the nation at the Globe. I knew everything about the U.S. National Team, including the favorite color of Tab Ramos (well, not really, but you get the idea).

I'll never forget the letter I received from the oldest living American to have played for a World Cup team. He was in his late 80s. All he wanted was someone to do a story on the history of the United States in the World Cup.

Then there's the story of the Soviet national champion, DNPR, which played Boston University in an exhibition game at Nickerson Field in August. I was the one who had to interview some players before the exhibition.

They were the most obnoxious people I have ever met. They were as exciting as public television. But when they played B.U., they were the best soccer team I have ever seen.

Maybe these Russians weren't that bad after all. They did give me a free pass to attend any organized soccer league in the Soviet Union. I plan to visit soon.

However, I won't remember this summer because of the Russians. My most memorable soccer moment occurred in Ft. Lauderdale, site of the American Soccer League championship series between the Ft. Lauderdale Strikers and the Bolts.

It wasn't the game that made that night so great. The Strikers won, 1-0.

That night, I met Marcelo Carrera, a mediocre player from Argentina who scored the winning goal for the Strikers. While he struggled to answer the questions of other reporters in English, I began to talk to him in Spanish. He was delighted. I was estatic.

I am thinking of heading down to South America next summer (that's if I can't get any tickets to Italy) and attend every soccer game imaginable. I have to discover why soccer is the most popular sport in the world.

Besides, I have to meet that television announcer.