I was sitting at the very back of the Eastbound 80 bus, tapping the "Refresh" button on the liveblog service of El País every minute of the Spain - Russia game. I would have watched the match at home but had committed to serving at the 8a service at St John's. So there I was on the bus, having fulfilled my minor responsibility to the flock, following this global game at the same pace as a Spanish sports writer would type. Around the time the bus passed California Ave, I noticed a guy sitting alone on the opposite side of the bus looking closely at his phone. More to the point, looking closely at his phone showing the Spain - Russia game. No connected headphones. He seemed to be in his late-20s, wearing casual clothes for a muggy Sunday morning in Chicago. It was his hat that sealed my intention to stand up and walk over to him: it had the Venezuelan flag. The odds were pretty good that the guy spoke Spanish. As the bus made another stop, I took advantage of the opportun...