The only danger was between the England sticks

JOHANNESBURG // Much like those who were watching the England and United States game on ITV HD, I too missed Steven Gerrard's opening goal last night. Far from having my signal interrupted by commercials, however, I was in a car on my way to Soweto and running a few minutes late.

I'd been at Ellis Park to learn how Diego Maradona, the Argentina coach, planned to deploy Lionel Messi against a Nigeria side keen to spring a surprise on African soil. That of course never happened and Argentina took the three points courtesy of Gabriel Heinze. But by the time I had filed the copy, I was leaving it tight to get in front of a big screen for kick off.

I had spoken to a South African friend earlier in the day and he had promised to take me to Soweto, a notoriously dangerous part of Johannesburg populated predominantly by underprivileged black families. "It's something you've got to see," he told me.
As I arrived, my friend, Moabi, had me park my car in his garage and then blocked it in with his own before adding: "There are opportunists everywhere."

We walked down the dark street and in the distance I could see a massive screen that indicated the central focal point of Fifa's "Soweto Fan Zone". As we entered through the security, I noticed that not only was I dreadfully underdressed - most people were sporting hats and scarves to save them from the bitter cold chill of the night - I was also the only white face in the entire park.

By the time I had arrived, there were only a few hundred people brave enough to fight the cold and take in the battle of two political superpowers on the football field, but Moabi informed me that the previous day, for South Africa's opening match with Mexico, the field had filled with 80,000 people.

I was getting special attention for being caucasian, but not the kind of attention you might expect if you were to read some of the critical press that has slated the country in the run-up to this World Cup. People were smiling at me, recording videos, offering me cigarettes and asking: "Are you OK, man? Are you good?"

I was.

When Robert Green spilled Clint Dempsey's long range drive into his own net, the crowd cheered, not because the United States had equalised, but rather because there had been a goal. I got the impression the same cheer would have gone up had the goal been at the other end.

As the final few minutes ticked down at the Royal Bafokeng Stadium in Rustenburg, the young boys in Soweto had lost interest, opting instead to climb en masse on to a Fifa golf buggy and be driven around the giant field. The buggy looked ready to collapse as the 26th body hauled himself aboard, while another group of young men had their own football and chased it fervently under the giant lights, despite there being no goal to shoot at.

The whistle went on the screen, but the boys with the ball continued to play. I sauntered out feeling safe, secure and with a smile on my face. Football is bringing joy to Soweto - regardless of who wins.