Maybe this World Cup will bring the best out of the US, not the worst | Barney Ronay

O ne of the best parts of following football across the world is the way it drags you into special places, local shrines, objects of profound cultural connection. The US, of course, has these holy spaces too. The queue of pilgrims in Philadelphia on Thursday morning stretched down the sun-blasted steps to the plaza at the bottom. Edging forward, the people in their ritual colours approached the figure at the top, arms outstretched in supplication, in a state of hushed deference. Called finally for his moment of communion, the man at the front of this line straightened his Ronaldinho shirt, clenched his fists above his head for the ceremonial Insta pic and shouted: “Adrian! I did it.” This is of course the Rocky statue, the most popular public visitor site in the cradle of US history, and the only place in town for thousands of Brazil and Haiti fans, visiting for their Group C fixture and looking for the chance to grab a little pure Americana. The Rocky statue is all about those clenched fists above the horizon, cradling the high rises below, holding America’s first city in his human-sized hands. I have a theory about the US and hands. So many of the great self-mythologising American creations have been hand-sized. The Hamburger. The .45 Colt. The baseball mitt. The onanism industry of Big Porn. The chocolate chip cookie, which was produced so workers could carry them to their fields and factories. …