I will admit, I am not much of a soccer fan but am a huge baseball (NY Yankees) and overall sports fan.  I love watching the excitement and pride fans show in their favorite players.  I enjoy losing myself in all the craze and becoming a part of something bigger than me.

Growing up I knew nothing about soccer aside from Pele and Maradona, the two South American greats.  Being from Manhattan's Washington Heights neighborhood, I was surrounded mainly by die-hard baseball fans, the first one being my own mother. I didn't learn about soccer until I was a twenty-year-old junior in college and my very close friend, who is Argentinian schooled me about the game, what it symbolizes and where the extreme passion for it comes from.

I learned from her how much of a great phenomenon soccer is outside of the US. I learned how it brings families together, and regardless of where you reside, you still bleed your team's colors. I get it and can relate because my love for the New York Yankees is, what some may deem, as simply insane.  You celebrate every win and hurt at every loss with your team, and when it all ends, you feel like you just lost a part of yourself.

During these last 30 days, I felt the same way. The pride I felt watching these games was like watching the Yankees at a World Series game close to clinching yet another title. I screamed I celebrated, I danced and felt as if I was leaving a part of me at every match.

And what was even more exciting was seeing my five-year-old take such an interest in the sport. Watching every game with me and wanting to know what the sport was all about.

For thirty days, it became 'our thing', our passion for excitement, while he chose to root for the US while my loyalties were also with the US, but with Argentina as well.  And now that it is all over, it has left us wanting more.  More of that excitement and passion that comes with every kick, pass, and goal.

So while we wait until Russia 2018, we will be watching these guys do their thing.