In nearly every corner of the world, soccer is followed with passion and reverence normally reserved for religion; our two-part ”Americans Abroad” series aims to catch football fever through the eyes of U.S. citizens in Spain and the Netherlands.

The first installation of “Americans Abroad” comes from Angelo Marino, a Senior Airman in the United States Air Force currently stationed at Volkel Air Base in Uden, the Netherlands.

I arrived in Holland in October of 2008. I used to hate the sport of “football,” or as commonly known to Americans as soccer. I never understood where the excitement came from when guys ran around to kick a ball on a field that seemed too big. The final scores of the games seemed too low and I didn’t believe the game was physical enough. All of these presumptions were quickly turned around when I attended my first UEFA football match in Eindhoven to watch the locals’ favorite team: PSV.

Having only been in Holland for less than a month, I realized it was time to open my mind to the local culture. I paid for my ticket, which had to be purchased by somebody with a club membership due to a rising number of hooligans attending games. Upon arrival at our seats I realized how crazy said hooligans can actually be. The opposing team’s fans were all contained in one section, which was lined by bulletproof glass topped by a large net to prevent local fans from throwing things at the “enemy.” Not only was their section lined with bulletproof glass, the bullet proof glass was lined on both sides with hundreds of security guards. This was the first time that I realized that this was not only a sport. This was a way of life.

Fast forward to early Summer 2010. The World Cup is in full swing. The Dutch houses are decorated with orange plastic flags running from fences to trees and light poles to houses. Everything is orange, even on days when the Oranje are not playing. Come game day there is an over-flow of orange. Everybody is wearing orange: orange shirts, orange jumpsuits, orange wigs—even orange full-body lion costumes. The cafes are packed. The beer is flowing. In larger cities, the centers of town, called centrums, are closed off with huge JumboTrons set up for the game. The fans even take vacation days off work if they are unlucky enough to work for a company that decides to stay open on Holland World Cup game days. If the game starts at 4 p.m., the bars are packed at noon.

After the United States and Italia were eliminated from the tournament, I felt obligated to start cheering for the country in which I am stationed. On game days I wore my orange polo shirt to the bar and drank beer with the locals. I never thought I would say this, but I have actually started to like football.

I was at the local bar when Holland upset Brazil in the quarter finals. I not only was there, I was chanting with the fans and toasting my glass. I felt as if I had been a fan all of my life. That is just how it is when you live almost anywhere except the United States. This way of life consumes everybody that is surrounded by it.

July 11, 2010 was arguably one of the biggest days in Holland football history. They had made it to the finals two times before 2010 and had never come through with a championship; however, there was a special feeling in the air. One Dutch electricity company was even offering one year of free electricity for each household if the Oranje took home the 18-carat gold World Cup Trophy.

I myself was in the centrum of Eindhoven wearing the same orange polo, new orange sunglasses and drinking beer with the locals. This time however there would be no huge celebrations, no partying all night, and no free electricity for the Dutch households. Instead there were tear-filled men, women, and children after Holland’s 1-0, extra time defeat against Spain.  There were angry shouts at the JumboTron and beer glasses being thrown. Three trips to the World Stage with the same result: an anti-climatic second place.

Now the Oranje must wait four more years for another chance at the championship. Of course the Euro Championships are only two years away, but not even that will fill the void left in the hearts of millions of Dutch citizens.