There are those things that only come along once every four years. An increased interest in curling. Calls
to abolish the electoral college. February 29.
New to that list: historic mansions filling up with booze, sexy bartenders and TVs, for the express purpose of elevating your soccer spectatorship to an art form.
Introducing The Soccer Mansion, a palatial former embassy atop Meridian Hill, opening tonight and every Friday through Sunday throughout the Cup to quench your quadrennial thirst for the beautiful game.
Look, we know you've got options aplenty for taking in the matches. But this might be the Pelé of Cup-watching venues. Built in the '30s, the Miami-style manse was originally intended as the vice president's house, and later housed the embassies of Hungary and... wait for it... Brazil. You'll enter into a grand foyer and staircase (you wouldn't settle for less), and then take a seat in the ballroom, tricked out with the staples of '30s decor—bright red lounge furniture, high-top tables and six flat-screens with surround sound.
From there, you'll ask one of the bartenders (imported for the occasion from L2 Lounge) for a bottle of champagne while you help yourself to the fare, which will change to match the countries playing that day. As soon as your side takes care of business, you'll want to repair to the cigar lounge on the back terrace for a celebratory cognac.
After all, it is noon already.
New to that list: historic mansions filling up with booze, sexy bartenders and TVs, for the express purpose of elevating your soccer spectatorship to an art form.
Introducing The Soccer Mansion, a palatial former embassy atop Meridian Hill, opening tonight and every Friday through Sunday throughout the Cup to quench your quadrennial thirst for the beautiful game.
Look, we know you've got options aplenty for taking in the matches. But this might be the Pelé of Cup-watching venues. Built in the '30s, the Miami-style manse was originally intended as the vice president's house, and later housed the embassies of Hungary and... wait for it... Brazil. You'll enter into a grand foyer and staircase (you wouldn't settle for less), and then take a seat in the ballroom, tricked out with the staples of '30s decor—bright red lounge furniture, high-top tables and six flat-screens with surround sound.
From there, you'll ask one of the bartenders (imported for the occasion from L2 Lounge) for a bottle of champagne while you help yourself to the fare, which will change to match the countries playing that day. As soon as your side takes care of business, you'll want to repair to the cigar lounge on the back terrace for a celebratory cognac.
After all, it is noon already.
