Sports Infiltrated: The Soccer Issue

My mind's a little blank tonight as to what to write about so I'll just go with the first thing that pops in my head. Let's see.......football, a.k.a. soccer to us.

Shockingly, it's not so much the want to watch "Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List" or "Pawn Stars" that is egging me towards flipping on the tv. It's the damn World Cup.

I say this is surprising, because I've never been what you would call a "sports fan". I tried to play some as a kid. You know, the kind your parents enroll you in before you have a chance to object, like soccer and softball. Plus my dad was always either an assistant or actual coach, (Didn't most of us have fathers that did that?) so then I really couldn't get out of it. But it was always pretty fun, for us kids anyway. No matter how many drills they made us do it always seemed that the skills ended up elsewhere while we scrambled around just trying to either kick or hit the ball as hard as we could. Meanwhile we would take pleasure at hearing our own parents screaming at the top of their lungs and watching their faces get purple as they disagreed vehemently at the poor rent-a-ref. They demanded justice for their little Susie, a redo, a recall. All we, and little Susie, wanted was for the game to be over so we could get our orange slices (or sometimes if we won, to get ice cream or pizza).

That, and then an attempt at basketball and softball in middle school (and a season of cross country in high school) basically summed up all my affiliation with the world of sports. I tried to watch football but it seemed too tedious and confusing. Baseball was simpler, but that made it even MORE boring. I figured I was just one of those girls that couldn't get into it. And I figured I never would.

Then when I went to college and befriended the English guys, Matt and Dave, on our floor in the dorm rooms, I became reintroduced to the world of soccer, ahem, football. They tried to get my friend Ashley and me into it by watching a game whenever one was going on. But this being America, places rarely showed games, let alone European ones.

Finally when Ashley and I made the trek out to visit them in England, one of our intended purposes was to sit together and watch a match. We walked to a pub near Matt's house and after we had our beer in front of us, I really sensed the difference in watching a sport there as opposed to the typical ones in America. Usually at sports bars there is so much going on, you barely hear or notice the game. Instead, all faces were turned to the big screen, and except for the minor comments here and there, courtesy of Dave trying to explain each call or flag that we asked about, the place was pretty quiet. It was kinda nice. It made the experience seemed special in a way, and we were able to be a part of it.

Of course, that nice easy experience might have been due to the fact that Matt's house resides in a quiet little neighborhood. The next time Matt came around to the states, we found ourselves in a "pub" ready to watch another country v. country game. This however, was not the quiet little evening we had had before. Instead the place was packed wall to wall with hardcore "football" fans, decked out in their country's jerseys. It was definitely more riled, but that made it more exciting. I found myself screaming at the screen just as much as the others around me.

Finally, when I decided to study abroad, I knew slightly what to expect. The guys I befriended there were also interested in learning more about this international sport, so whenever there was a game on we'd try to get to the Union Pub as early as possible to grab seats.

Towards the end of our trip, we realized we wanted to see a live game. The city of the school we attended, Norwich, just happened to have their team in the Premiership (basically the highest level). But since they weren't doing terribly well, we figured we ought to see them as soon as possible before we leave...and they get knocked down to Division One.

We arrived at the stadium early, obtained tickets, and waited for it to open up. When it finally did we found our seats, happily surprised that we actually had a good view. There we were, a couple of Americans infiltrating this wildly popular sport, screaming along like regular fans, booing a bad judgment and cheering at a goal. We had a blast, but were left wondering...why ISN'T America part of this?

Now I'm sure I'm going to get a schooling as to why this is (go ahead Gulliver, I know you are dying to), but in any event, even if America is just starting to catch up, I still feel proud to have learned as much as I have so far about it. Granted, I am by NO MEANS an expert, and there are still things that confuse the hell outta me (I still don't understand how to read the stats).

But I do like to watch if I can, either by myself or with a group of people who care and are really into it. I'm telling you, the excitement is infectious if you are with the right people, whom I was lucky enough to be around.

So go, grab a lager, and get into it.