Czechia hasn't been to a World Cup in twenty years — not since 2006 in Germany, when Pavel Nedvěd was still playing and Petr Čech was in his prime and the Czechs finished third in their group and went home disappointed. The 2004 Euros semifinal generation is lore now. An entire generation of Czech kids has grown up watching ice hockey at the World Cup and waiting for their football team to show up at the other one.
They finally did, the hard way. Czechia qualified through March's playoffs, beating Denmark on penalties in Copenhagen after a 2-2 draw — a scoreline that fit the team's entire campaign. Miroslav Koubek, the 74-year-old domestic coach who took over in December after the previous manager was dismissed, has built something direct and functional: Souček and Krejčí anchoring the spine, Schick finishing what the Premier League midfielders create, and not a lot of artistic flourish in between. It works.
Group A is winnable — Mexico, South Korea, and a South Africa side that got the brutal draw. The Czechs are nobody's favorite, which is how this country likes its football. They will travel, they will drink the American beer and be politely unimpressed, and they will remind everyone under 35 what it looks like when their team is actually at the tournament. Twenty years is a long time. June is close.
The Bayer Leverkusen striker who scored one of the goals of Euro 2020 — a 50-yard lob from his own half against Scotland that looked like a video-game glitch. Injuries robbed him of prime years, but at 30 he's healthy and prolific again, with 24 goals in his last 50 caps. If Czechia scores a memorable goal in June, Schick will be at the end of the move.
The West Ham captain who has spent six seasons being the most under-appreciated midfielder in the Premier League — an elite aerial presence, a box-to-box runner, the guy who scores 8 goals a season from corner kicks. Captains Czechia. Plays every minute of every game. If you've ever watched a West Ham match and wondered who the tall Czech kept attacking the far post, it was him.
The Wolverhampton Wanderers center-back (not to be confused with the older Ladislav Krejčí, also a Czech international, whose existence has caused a decade of commentary-box panic). Left Sparta Prague for the Premier League last summer. Ball-playing defender, good in the air, left-footed — the spine Czechia will build the whole defense around in the group stage.
Svíčková is the Sunday lunch: a thick slab of marinated beef sirloin, cooked slow, served under a silky cream-and-root-vegetable sauce the color of butterscotch, with bread dumplings (knedlíky) to sop it up, a spoon of cranberry sauce, and a curl of whipped cream on the plate that sounds wrong and tastes correct. Then goulash (guláš) served in a carved-out loaf of dark rye, smažený sýr (breaded fried cheese, exactly as good as it sounds), and whatever's on tap — which in Prague is Pilsner Urquell at 4°C, poured in three pulls, with a foam head two fingers deep. The beer is not a beverage. The beer is infrastructure.
DFW doesn't have a Czech restaurant proper — acknowledged gap. The closest authentic option is Czech Stop in West, TX (I-35, 90 miles south of Dallas), which every Texan of a certain age has stopped at for kolaches on a road trip, and which absolutely counts as a pilgrimage for a Czechia match weekend. In DFW proper, Pearl Snap Kolaches in Fort Worth (White Settlement and Hulen) does the Czech-Texan fusion version properly, including a bratwurst-and-kraut klobasnek. For beer: Kasa Czech & Slovak cuisine pops up at DFW beer halls occasionally — follow them for match-day events.
A soundtrack for the matches, the pregame, and the afterparty.
Czech support is quieter than Balkan support and louder than Scandinavian support, and always ends in a pub. Expect red-and-white striped scarves, the lion-rampant on the national crest, and a chant — "Kdo neskáče není Čech" (if you're not jumping you're not Czech) — that is exactly as communal as it sounds. Hockey chants bleed into football chants here; the two sports share fans and arenas and a certain gallows humor about losing in quarterfinals. They will buy you a beer before you ask. If Czechia wins, they will buy you three.
The Czech Republic drinks more beer per capita than any country on earth — and has done so every year since somebody started keeping the number. 140 liters per person per year, roughly. The national team is sponsored by Pilsner Urquell and this should surprise no one.