She’s not a World Cup fanatic following the tournament around the globe even though it seems like it, but slowly, Amanda Kendle’s becoming a fan.

Last time a bunch of brightly-dressed men kicked balls around and won some shiny cup thing, I was teaching English conversation in Japan: the 2002 FIFA World Cup co-host, pairing up with South Korea. Now 2006 has rolled around, and where am I living now? As though selected with the careful intention of being well-placed to breathe in World Cup hype all over again, I’ve landed in southern Germany. My own team, the Australian Socceroos, are camping in a no-name village just around the corner from me, and barely a day goes by without one of my students bringing me a newspaper article on the topic. Half the stuff I buy in the supermarket is plastered with a World Cup sponsorship emblem and every time I put gas in my car I get a few points closer to owning a World Cup bag, hat or shirt.

Back in 2002 I thought it was bad enough that for several months there was no other topic which my English conversation classes would talk about, let alone that a frightening number of my Japanese students started wearing Beckham-style hair. Ignorant as I was I also stumbled into booking a week’s holiday in South Korea’s capital, Seoul, which coincided with semi-final fever and considerably hindered my sightseeing plans. Learn from my mistakes—and discoveries—if you’re planning to be in Germany this year between June 9 and July 9, be prepared to blend into World Cup fever.

To be perfectly honest, I’d always thought that the game of soccer would be vastly improved by widening the goal and increasing the scoring frequency as a result. A like-minded friend of mine bettered this by suggesting that using ten balls instead of one would produce a game worth watching. Having seen something like a grand total of thirty minutes of soccer in my life before World Cup 2002, I had a grip on the basic objective but things like the offside rule were a Sherlock-Holmes-level mystery. Conversations in the teachers’ room in Japan had the know-all Brits making fun of us clueless Aussies and Americans.

Seoul changed that for me. Within a few days of constantly negotiating my way through the dozens of spontaneous soccer souvenir stands near my hostel, a dangerously infectious soccer fever started to seep into me. The impromptu vendor in the lane outside my hostel talked me into donning a bright red “Be the Reds” T-shirt and a matching headscarf to support the South Korean team. I followed the game results at the internet café and read a debate in the local ex-pat paper about the grammatical weirdness of the team’s slogan. A Korean soccer fan defended it by saying, “It’s not about real English, it’s about a feeling”. Whatever the academics’ opinions, I felt like I was really beginning to fit in when locals in the same red uniform grinned at me and waved. This time round in Germany, I’m using the advantage I have of being able to speak German to fit in, rather than decking myself out in bright tricolours. I’m nattering away with the best of them about the latest kicking contest giving any old Hans Schmidt the chance to win much sought-after match tickets, and listening to talkback radio about the strange range of souvenirs available. Having heard of the man who found and profitably auctioned the scraps of paper showing participant country names used in the official match draw ceremony, I’m on the lookout for anything that mad football fans might find valuable.

Four years ago during my visit to South Korea, the local underdog heroes were due to play the formidable German squad in the semi-finals. Nobody had expected their South Korean team to get anywhere near the semi-finals, so no matter what the result, there was an unstoppable air of victory throughout the country. On the afternoon of the big game the police closed the main streets of Seoul to traffic and the crowds began to gather. Almost to my own surprise I joined the sea of red in the main street of Seoul’s throbbing centre.

Evening fell, the game kicked off. There was a surge of the crowd towards the huge screen mounted on a high downtown building, but then in amazement I stared as all these strangers organised themselves into a neat pack of friends. Nearly everybody sat down on the street, using newspapers as cushions against the asphalt. Food and drink were shared around and a young boy went halves on his chips with me. Still not knowing too much about the rules of soccer, I really didn’t think my concentration span would last a whole game, but I soon realised the crowd would help out with that. I clapped and screamed and learned the cheers, especially the final rhythmic line of the most popular one, “uh-oh way-oh way oi-oi-oi!”, and another which I could follow phonetically but sounded way too much like I was swearing. The first half brought no score and then, sadly for the giant-killing Koreans, the Germans netted a goal in the second. Germany was headed for the final, where they eventually lost to Brazil.

When I next watch Germany play, this time on their home soil, I might again be out in open space, but the Fachwerk buildings and old town halls will look a lot different to Seoul’s shiny downtown stores. I guess it’ll safer if I leave my “Be The Reds” shirt folded neatly at the bottom of my drawer, although I’m not sure what to replace it with: a German pullover to keep my local pals happy, a yellow jersey in an effort to support the probably ill-fated Socceroos, or perhaps just a neutral any-team outfit.

With matches scheduled to take place in twelve cities all the way across Germany, there’s definitely no escaping the idea that the World Cup is coming. The nice part is that this time round, I don’t want to escape. Traveling is sometimes about museums and churches, sometimes about learning a language or understanding history, and sometimes it’s about shouting along with a local cheer squad and celebrating win, loss, or draw. I still couldn’t quite label myself a true soccer fan, but you don’t need to know about the offside rule to enjoy something as big as the World Cup. And I have a strange feeling that come World Cup 2010, I’ll be reporting from South Africa. Stay tuned.

LOWDOWN: World Cup Fever, German-style
The twelve host cities will be more than humming when soccer fever explodes fully in Germany this summer. Like me in Korea, you don’t need an expensive, hard-to-come-by ticket to enjoy some local hospitality and no traveler will have any trouble finding a beer or three and some company in front of a TV screen. Be prepared for some of these special games:

• The very first: Germany plays Costa Rica in the opener in Munich on June 9. A few months early for Oktoberfest, but it never hurts to start training those beer stein lifting muscles.
• The cold or the heat: Watch the weather forecast to get a jump on the winner of the Sweden – Trinidad & Tobago on June 10.
• The confusing flags: One flag fits all when the Netherlands plays Serbia & Montenegro on June 11. Just turn your Dutch red, white and blue upside down if the Balkan ballplayers get in front.
• The stars and stripes: The USA first hits the field against the Czech Republic in Gelsenkirchen on June 12; plays Italy in Kaiserslautern on June 17; and suits up against Ghana on June 22 in Nuremberg.
• The ’Roos: The final first round match for my beloved Australia is against Croatia on June 22 in Stuttgart. Any games beyond this will be a record-breaking appearance for us.
• The big one: And the cup goes to … I’d be rich if I knew that (but Brazil are favourites for now). Whoever it is, you’ll see them in action in Berlin on July 9.