Thursday 13 November 2008

sport.

A question of loyalties.

Living in the United Kingdom, it's somewhat frowned upon not to take some sort of an interest in football. Living in London and not supporting one of the city teams is seen as slightly aberrant, and is akin to being nestled in the library every night with a cup of tea and a stack of articles about post-colonial feminist theory and its effect on African pygmy tribes while everyone else is the member of a cool sorority or fraternity having toga parties and luaus. In short, it's shooting a bullet directly into the big toe of your social foot.

Not having grown up in the U.K. or having a family allegiance to base my decision on, I decided I would have to pick a local team to support. I quickly declared my loyalty for Chelsea, given that the borough of Chelsea is the most excusive part of the city and the real estate values are through the roof, even by extortionate London standards. Essentially, it's the exact geographical location of most of my aspirations. My Chelsea support was further cemented by some research in the gossip and society columns which revealed numerous mentions of the Chelsea players swilling champagne and having glamorous parties on yachts in the Mediterranean.

Shortly after making my decision, as I was proudly ready to wave the blue and white Chelsea flag, I began dating a local. The Boy made me a deal. He told me that if I could name one single player, past or present, on the Chelsea team he would accept my decision and, while we would become rivals during football season, I would have his respect and my real-estate-based support would be legitimized.

And that is how I became an Arsenal fan.

* * *

The early days.

Watching football (or “footie” as I've taken to calling it assuming that adopting colloquialisms will make me seem more credible) quickly won me over as a Saturday afternoon activity. It wasn't so much the actual watching of game, per se, but the acceptability of drinking during the day and spending more that 2 hours picking away at a single plate of food. At long last, I had discovered somewhere for me to eat at an excruciatingly slow pace without being hurried along by dining companions. Not only that, but the gin and tonics kept on flowing while I nibbled through my veggie burger. Eat like a bird and drink like a fish? You should seriously consider spending weekend afternoons watching footie at your local watering hole.

I actually quite enjoyed the games as well. I can't claim to have known exactly what was going on all the time, but the Boy patiently explained things like the Offside rule to me using an array of condiment jars and pepper pots he gathered from surrounding tables. I think I've got the gist of it now: basically, the mayo jar can't try to score a goal on the pepper pot when the ketchup is standing in front of him trying to intercept the lime slice.

If I don't fully understand the Offside rule, it's only because I was distracted mid-explanation when the Arsenal goalie hoofed the ball from the net well past the halfway point on the pitch. “You know what's really impressive?” I pondered, “how far they can kick the ball”. With wide eyes and his jaw slightly ajar, the Boy looked up from repositioning the lime slice to send a text to every male contact in his mobile phone directory.

During the hours spent in the pub watching various matches I've decided that there are some fundamental flaws within the game rules. Namely, that the only way to score any points is to actually get the ball fully into the net. It seems to require an awful lot of skill just to get the ball close to the net, and to get so close and leave with no points just seems disheartening. I've decided to award players half points whenever they hit one of the goal posts. They've still come damn close even if the ball didn't specifically go into the net. Not to mention the posts are quite narrow and hitting them with the ball must require a lot of skill, too. This has led to some pesky questions from those of the male persuasion, but seems to have largely taken off and is gaining popular acceptance. Periodically I'll get emails from the Boy's office with questions his colleagues have about technicalities such as what happens if the ball hits the post before going into the net. I roll my eyes and reply. Point and a half, obviously. One day I got an excited text from the Boy who was watching a match at home. “The ball just bounced off the top post, then the side post and then went in - 2 points!”

Of course the ball doesn't always make it into the net or hit a post: sometimes the pepper pot or the goalie gets in the way. During a more exciting moment in one game, the Arsenal goalie slid down and grabbed the ball a split second before it got any points (half or otherwise) for the rival team. My brain knew it was excited, but my mouth had some difficulty with the specifics. “Oh what a good…goal-stop!” I exclaimed. Even before I was corrected, I knew I had said something wrong. I was being gently patted on the head and the Boy was reaching for his mobile phone. That's never a good sign.

* * *

Stranger in a strange land.

This week I attended my first live game at Emirates Stadium in North London. I had seen the stadium once before while viewing a flat in the area. In fact, the flat was so close that you could see the stadium from the garden. I thought back to that day and the look on the Boy's face when I told him about the flat. He had the wide-eyed look of wonderment of a child who had just stumbled into Santa's workshop and found that all the elves had stepped out for a smoke break and that Santa had left the keys in the sleigh. I didn't get the flat, and I'm guessing a little part of the Boy's soul died that day. For someone who mocked me for supporting Chelsea based on the real estate, he certainly was excited about the Arsenal flat.

Emirates Stadium looks suspiciously similar to the site of the world Quidditch match in Harry Potter and the hoards of fans in their red and white striped Arsenal scarves only serve to exasperate the comparison. On the walk to the stadium, I found myself wishing I had a striped scarf to fit in. Having come straight from work in a tailored pencil dress, velvet blazer and four-inch heels, something didn't feel right. Fortunately, I had the foresight to bring a pair of ballet flats and in an act that involved reworking several minor laws of physics, I managed to stuff my heels into my small purse.

I had been quite confident about coming to the match. I had now watched a number of matches on television and could name some key players and knew which side to cheer for. Although, after hearing some of the borderline offensive cheers directed at opponents, I had settled upon my own non-denominational cheer consisting simply of the words “Yay Footie!”

As we joined the mob walking to the stadium, my confidence retreated into its shell like a socially anxious turtle with a stutter at a public speaking contest. It felt like we were marching to a battle or were part of an angry lynch mob. I clutched onto the Boy, terrified to be left to fend for myself. While I was glad I had switched into flat shoes and could thus keep pace with the crowd, I regretted not packing a flare gun in case I became isolated in the screaming crowd and needed the Boy to come locate me.

While my confidence may have virtually disappeared upon arrival at the stadium, my “Yay Footie!” cheer became all the more appropriate when we reached our seats and found most of the stadium on its feet cheering something about hating rivals, the Tottenham Hotspurs. Now, I'm all for a choreographed cheering and such at sporting events, but you would think if you're going to be referencing another team it would be the other team that is playing on that day. Call me crazy, but it didn't seem like changing the words from “Stand up if you hate Tottenham” to “Stand up if you hate Wigan” would require too much thought and organization amongst the spectators. Granted there is a minor syllabic discrepancy between “Tottenham” and ”Wigan” but seeing as it's generally pronounced “Tot'nam” I really think it would have worked fine. On the upside, I'm sure the Wigan players felt more welcomed. They may be getting ready to mercilessly beat the pants off us, they'd say in the change rooms and while warming up, but listen to the tongue-lashing they're giving to those Tottenham sods.

The first half of the game was exciting, although after all my lessons in pubs I half-expected to see team mayonnaise fighting off team ketchup and trying to kick the lime slice
past the pepper pot guarding the fork. At one point a player's shoe came off after getting tangled up during a dramatic play of some sort. I had to resist the urge to pull one of my heels out of my purse and wave it in the air as an offering to him. “I have an extra, in case of emergency!” I would have called out enthusiastically. I restrained myself, but nonetheless the game went on and it flew by in a flash and I found myself ready for more footie action when play ceased at halftime.

I will say that halftime was a bit anticlimactic, or one might also say “more tasteful” by North American standards. I would likely have been taken aback but the Boy and I had discussed it previously. I had been surprised to learn that there are no cheerleaders (I tentatively suggested that The Arsenettes would be a good name if they ever decide to get a cheerleading squad) although, girls in miniskirts don't really seem to be needed since men will already pay obscene amounts of cash to see the games.

While they don't have cheerleaders, I was relieved to hear there was at least a team mascot and the Boy informed me that he was, somewhat un-cleverly, called “Gunnersaurus”. The conversation that followed this took place in absolute seriousness without a hint of sarcasm and has given me cause to wonder just exactly how dimwitted people think I am. “You might see the Gunnersaurus at half time,” the Boy advised me, “He'll be wearing oversized black shoes, an Arsenal shirt,” he looked thoughtful, “and maybe a hat, yeah, I think he has a little hat --” At this point I had to intervene. “Won't he be wearing a giant dinosaur mascot costume? In fact, won't he be the only one on the field, or the stadium even, dressed as a dinosaur?” Honestly, why would you start with his shoes when describing him? In fact, why mention the shoes at all? Surely using the word “dinosaur” or the suffix “saurus” would have been sufficient information for me to identify him.

I did in fact see the Gunnersaurus during half time, and the Boy was kind enough to point him out to me. Not that it was necessary, of course. I would have spotted the oversized shoes and little hat on my own eventually.

Following halftime, there was a period of about ten minutes during which I cheered excitedly thinking we were almost getting another goal, before I realised that the teams switched sides during the break. Once I got myself reoriented, I settled back into enjoying the game, although my attention waned a bit and I found myself missing a few exciting moments when I was absent-mindedly gazing off into space letting my mind wander. I wondered if the players talked to each at all while on the pitch. Not full-fledged conversations about their feelings, but perhaps the odd uncomplimentary remark to a member of a rival team, or words of support to their teammates. The Boy suggested during lulls they may have been chatting about which pub to go to following the game, or checking out girls in the front rows of the audience. I sense he was mocking me, but still the ensuing dialogues I imagined between players made the slow moments in the game more interesting.

I found my confidence in my football knowledge and ability to follow the game further shaken midway through the second half of the game. The Boy caught onto the fact that I was behaving somewhat like an underachieving performing seal in that I would automatically start to clap when everyone around me began cheering and clapping. It had become so unconscious that I didn't realise I was doing it until he started to raise his hands in mock applause and I immediately followed suit, only to find myself the only person clapping. This made me feel like a bit of a fool, but the Boy attempted to make me feel better by excitedly screaming out “Oh, well done! Good goal-stop!” following a dramatic, what I now know is called a “save”.

In the end, we won the game three to nil. It was a nice clean game with no half points, and some really impressively far kicks of the ball. By “we”, I of course mean, Arsenal. By using “we” in that sentence one could well ascertain that after attending my first live game I have been initiated into the legions of fans. Perhaps, although the journey back to the underground may have been a more formative part of my transformation. Walking back to the rousing and hypnotic cheers of “Red Army!” had a definite impact on me. By the time I was back home I was certainly an Arsenal fan, a true Gunner. That or I was ready to run off to march for the Motherland in Communist Russia. But, it was certainly one of those two.

29 comments:

Allison said...

I lived quite close to the Newcastle stadium and I can still recall the cheers when they played Man U and won. It helped that I was watching from the corner pub, but without having seen a match I was a Newcastle fan.

We should try to go to a match next time I visit!

Have you ever seen the British version of Fever Pitch? Very similiar to your post, however the male in that film does live next to the stadium. ;)

Allison said...

p.s. Glad to see you are enjoying "idiotstick" :)

Strawberry Blondie said...

We should go to a match together! That would be great.

Fever Pitch has very recently made it onto both my Films to See and Books to Read lists. I feel like it will speak to me on a very personal level. I wonder if the Gunnersaurus makes an appearance in the book/film. Oh good christ, I hope so.

I'm so glad I didn't end up living in Arsenal -- it would be living on Aberdeen St. in the middle of Queen's homecoming.

Eve said...

' “I have an extra, in case of emergency!” I would have called out enthusiastically.'

I can totally see this happening (of course there would have been a ton of fumbling to get out the shoes that you had so finely rigged into place in your little purse)

I loved your post! This made me laugh like crazy at work, and I am happy to see that you are joining in to the magic that is cheering for an organized sports team. If I ever make it to London to visit, I am expecting some Arsenal representation on the walls of your flat.

Strawberry Blondie said...

Eve - I'm sure you of all people would have appreciated this post! You're right, cheering for an organized sports team is so much fun!

I have a long way to go in competing with all the Blue Jays lovin' on your and Mat's walls, but I promise I'll do my best to get some Arsenal representation up!

And yes, getting the emergency shoe out would have involved some serious fumbling. It was an act of God getting the shoes in that purse. ;)

Barbara Bruederlin said...

I particularly admire how you maintain your sense of fairplay throughout all this nationalistic indoctrination. Half points and yay footie indeed!

I feel like a football expert myself now, having learned all about the various formation of pepper pots and mayo jars. This is a great service you have performed.

Strawberry Blondie said...

Fair play is definitely important. I would even have offered my emergency shoe to a player on the opposing team, just to avoid playing favourites.

All sports should definitely be explained with condiments. Visual aids are essential, and also tasty.

P.S. I think some comments I've posted on your blog have disappeared into a spam filter. :(

Anonymous said...

Just to add my two cents to this blog

my particular favourite new "rule" is the hot player half point, in which any player above a certain level of hotness is automatically awarded a half point (Not sure how this is determined but I'm all up for it if it gives my team an edge - after all why should it always be the talented ones that get all the glory?)

I had seen right away that strawberry blondie had taken a special liking to a certain young whipper-snapper named Niklas Bendtner.
Unfortunately young in this case was the operative word and on being told that Niklas was a spritely 19 there was some spectacular Richard Nixon style back tracking.

All in all a very good experience. I'll be looking forward to our next long gin soaked meal at the pub. All commenters welcome as long as they don't jinx strawberry blondie's lucky charm *She's 4 out of 4 so far*

Strawberry Blondie said...

The hot player rule is long overdue. For too long, footballing talent has been the only way to acheive in football. I'm all for bringing in more equality and rewarding other valuable contributions players make to the game.

For the record, Bendtner is a very mature looking 19 year old. 'Young whipper-snapper' or not, 19 is perfectly legal, so put that in your ageist pipe and smoke it like a fine young cut of tobacco.

I like the gin-soaked lunches, but I'm less fond of the lucky charm status. I fear the day it fades and I get lynched by angry Gunners. Maybe Bendtner will swoop in and heroically save me....

Unknown said...

Well written, Ali! You almost make me want to spend one of my upcoming London afternoons in a pub extendedly nibbling on veggie burgers with you.

If only it was Quidditch, I'd be there for sure!

I think I get the same sideways glances when it comes out that I don't follow hockey and don't love the Leafs more than my mother.

Strawberry Blondie said...

Thanks, Maggie! You'd be a great pub footie companion; we could nibble our vegtastic support from the sidelines together. It's nice to know you haven't been roped into being a hockey fan even after a few years living in heart of Leafs country.

Quidditch would be great. They really need to get on making that a reality. I don't know who "they" are, but someone needs to step up and make it happen!

Anonymous said...

It’s funny how many articles and news come out on a weekly basis.
watch the tourist online free

morangão said...

"I wonder if the Gunnersaurus makes an appearance in the book/film. Oh good christ, I hope so." I think exactly the smae thing

Anonymous said...

Hmm it appeaгs like youг sitе ate my first comment (іt
waѕ super long) so Ι guess I'll just sum it up what I had written and say, I'm thoroughlу enjoying уour
blоg. I аs ωell am аn aspiring
blog bloggeг but I'm still new to the whole thing. Do you have any suggestions for first-time blog writers? I'd ceгtainly appreciаtе it.

http://www.tinnitus411.com/ringing-in-the-ears-cause/
My webpage :: http://www.tinnitus411.com/ringing-in-the-ears-cause/

Anonymous said...

I almоst nеνer write гeѕponses,
but ӏ broωseԁ a few of the гemaгkѕ
on this page "sport.". I do hаve 2 questiоns fоr you if it's allright. Could it be only me or does it look like a few of these remarks come across as if they are left by brain dead folks? :-P And, if you are writing on other social sites, I'd like
to κеep up with you. Cοuld you make
a lіѕt of еvеry οne of your
sоcial communitу ѕiteѕ like уour twittеr feed, Facebоok ρаge or linkеԁin ρrofіle?
http://www.vanavil.com/

Anonymous said...

I viѕіted various web pages however the audiо quality for audiο songs existing at this web site iѕ truly fabulous.
Tinnitus Home Remedies Natural Quick Ways to Combat Those Annoying Sounds
My website: Tinnitus Home Remedies Natural Quick Ways to Combat Those Annoying Sounds

Anonymous said...

Mу brother recommеnded I might lіke thіs blоg.

He was entiгelу гіght. Thіs
poѕt trulу maԁe mу ԁay.

You cann't imagine just how much time I had spent for this information! Thanks! mouse click the following post
my webpage: mouse click the following post

Anonymous said...

Asking queѕtions are genuіnely pleasant thing if you are not undеrstanding
anythіng totally, except this post offers
fastіdious understanԁing even.
click through the next page

Anonymous said...

Do yοu have а spam problem оn thiѕ blog; I also am а
blogger, and I was wonԁerіng youг ѕituation; many of us have cгеatеd somе nice procedures and we are loοking
to trade methods with otheг folks, be ѕure to shoot
me an email if interested. web site

Anonymous said...

I ωant to tо thank уοu for thіѕ ѵery gooԁ reaԁ!
! Ι absolutеly lονed eveгy bit οf іt.
I have got уou bookmarκeԁ tο look at new ѕtuff yοu post…

my web sitе :: buy toys

Anonymous said...

Gooԁ post! We will be linkіng tо thіѕ particularly
gгеat articlе on our website. Kеep up thе great writing.

mental

Anonymous said...

I believe this is аmong the most ѕignifіcant іnformatіon foг me.
And i am satіѕfіed reading уour artіcle.
But wanna commentarу on few normal іssues, Thе website style іs perfect, the artіclеs іs in rеality grеat : D.
Just гіght proceѕs, cheers similar web site

Anonymous said...

When you have chosen your plastic surgeon, schedule a consultation so that you can
get a better idea of what the procedure entails.
Habits: Cellulite treatment also includes taking care
of your habits such as crossing your legs, knees and ankles.
The best way of dealing with cellulite & stretch marks ( is by choosing a
treatment option and sticking to it.

my weblog how to get rid of cellulite on legs

Anonymous said...

Wondеrful gooԁѕ from уοu, man.
I hаve undeгstand your stuff pгeviouѕ tο anԁ yοu are just too
great. I rеаlly likе whаt yοu hаvе acquirеԁ herе, reallу like what you arе stating
and thе way іn ωhich уou ѕаy іt.
You make іt entertaining and уou stіll taκe cаre of to keep it wiѕe.
I саn't wait to read much more from you. This is actually a great site.

My homepage :: yaz Lawsuit

Anonymous said...

Thanκs verу interеsting blοg!

http://Www.tinnitus411.com/remedy-for-ringing-in-the-ea rs/

Anonymous said...

It's truly very complicated in this active life to listen news on Television, therefore I just use web for that reason, and get the most up-to-date information.

My web page payday loans

Anonymous said...

how to get pregnant faster
As discussed above from both the treatment methods discussed natural treatment methods are more effective to cure infertility and get pregnant at 30 and 40 and have no side effects. If such is the case with you and your partner, the following information will interest you.

Anonymous said...

Oh my gоodneѕs! Amazing artiсle dude!

Thаnk yоu, However I am hаvіng іssues ωith youг RЅS.
Ι don't know the reason why I can't subscribe to it.

Is there аnybody hаνing similar RSS issuеs?
Anyone whο knows the solution can you kindlу rеspond?
Thanх!!

My wеb page RPMPoκer Promotiοns ()

Anonymous said...

Ηi therе it's me, I am also visiting this web site on a regular basis, this web page is actually good and the users are genuinely sharing nice thoughts.

My webpage Mid Stakes Bonus ()