A Love for Game

19 August 2006
Arsenal 1 - 1 Aston Villa

54' Mellberg (A)
83' Gilberto (F)

I didn't think of it earlier, but perhaps I should more accurately detail how and when I picked Arsenal as the be all and end all of football for me. As I explained, it really is my dad's fault: he and his sister became (and still are) quite obsessed with the Italian language and football in general. So after a number of years of football taking over more and more of my father's life, I broke down Christmas 2004 and decided to start following a Premiereship team. I didn't want to pick the team in first place (conveniently Chelsea) because I thought that would be tacky, and I didn't want to root for my dad's team (less conveniently Manchester United) because the point was to give us something to talk about, rather than simply agree about - so I went for the team in the middle, which was Arsenal. I'm silly, I realize that now, but if you can't alter potentially large parts of life on a whim, what can you alter on a whim? Don't answer that. Initially, their presence was barely noticeable on my life. I had no idea who was on the team, I had no idea of their history, and I certainly had no idea what part of England they were from. Slowly, I picked up various details - oh, North London, you say? Highbury? What's that? A Double what? Doesn't Liam Brady play guitar in Oasis? The passion remained dormant for over a year as I followed their fixtures but went no further. It doesn't help that the structure of football in Europe is wildly vexing to my American sensibilities: at any given moment in the season, Arsenal is competing in at least three leagues or tournaments or what have you, and of course they change names sometimes (footnote to the EPL: changing tournament names based on sponsors is just ridiculous!). Yet the passion was ignited when Arsenal made their run all the way to the Champions League Final; seeing them play every few weeks on ESPN was enough to tell me that what had started as a casual fling ran indeed much deeper than I originally intended. Then unfortunately the summer hit, and I suppose any other year there would have been a solid chance that my interest would have dwindled except the World Cup swooped in and captured my interest. Once that was done, there was only six weeks until the start of the EPL season, and friendlies started a week after the end of the World Cup - it seems pretty unavoidable at this point. Football isn't the only sport I like, in fact it was probably the last sport that I came to like. A decade ago, I did not watch much sports; my dad would watch baseball, or hockey, or American football, and I would go hide in my room and play video games. My interest in baseball began to pick up in my high school years (for historical reference, my "high school years" is turn-of-the-century, 1998-2002), and when I got to college my roommate turned me into a serious casual fan. Which is to say, I enjoyed watching sports, but I didn't know who was on any of the teams. I was watching all the standards (minus hockey, which strangely, I still don't really watch - so I guess football isn't the "last sport"), and soon enough I was watching the not-so-standards, at least for a 19-year-old: tennis, golf, cricket. Whatever I could get my hands on, I would watch. If the French Open was on, nice, I'll do that. If I have to watch the Tigers (back when they were terrible! what happened in 2006?!) play Kansas City, sure why not. At some point in my sophomore year of college, a huge, fundamental shift occurred in my view of sport. Whereas I had once seen it as the hobby of jocks and workout freaks, I suddenly saw it as the true demonstration of human ability. Sports are not just physical workouts, they require strategy and courage: don't tell me that during the second leg of a Champions League semi-final there are no emotions involved, that the pressure doesn't weigh on the team like shackles and chains. Sport is the test of humanity: behind all the money, behind all the bullshit about steroids and fixing scandals, there is competition and struggle, loyalty and strength, knowledge and faith. This Arse-Villa game happened in the middle of a very important baseball series (important to me, anyhow). Well, I'll just come out and say it, no use beating around the bush - I'm a Yankees fan. I'm sure some of you just closed the book. Hey, you know what, I love the Yankees and I'm not ashamed of that. My dad grew up in New York as a Yankees fan and he raised me on baseball proper - by following the most storied team in America. So leave me alone. Sorry, I get defensive sometimes. The Arsenal game was on a Saturday, smack in the middle of the most important Yankees series in 2006 - a five-games-in-four-days marathon against their AL East rivals, the Boston Red Sox. These five games would set the tone for the rest of the season, because for the first time in something like seven years, the runner up in the AL East would probably not being going to playoffs, thanks to a startlingly strong AL Central (see: the Tigers comment I made two paragraphs ago). I had sports tension running seven ways to Sunday (not to mention the PGA Championship was going on in the background, with the greatest pairing at the time: Woods v Mickelson, round 2, fight!), and I loved every second, I relished the anxiety and I bathed in my sports neuroses. Sorry, I also wax dramatic sometimes. In sum, the weekend was huge for me, and immensely fun. The Yankees ended up dominating the Red Sox, winning all five games, sweeping the Sox in their hometown. The rest of the season has yet to be played but it sets the stage for a great Yanks playoff run. So the Arsenal ends up tying with Aston Villa in very anticlimactic fashion, although Theo Walcott played a great 20something minutes, creating the opportunity for Gilberto to equalize, saving us from a potentially embarrassing EPL opener. I wasn't able to watch the game as it happened because the Arsenal TV website let me down although I ended up finding a copy by other means. The storylines outside of the game seemed to be more important than the beginning of the season (to the media, at least) - specifically the Ashley Cole trade saga. We don't know how it's going to turn out right now, but fuck, if he wants to leave, get him the hell out - I don't want anyone on my team who does not have Arsenal coming first. I hate when that happens but it is pretty unavoidable in sports. It's unfortunate, the atmosphere it creates, both within the team and the fans: it's like knowing Brutus is going to stab Caesar. Of course, the converse situation is when a great player is entirely dedicated to your team, such as Thierry Henry. When he announced in May that he would be staying at Arsenal, that he believed in our team, we all smiled and allowed our hardened sports exterior to reveal our softer side, the side of us that wants to give him a hug and tell him thanks for being so loyal to us. I'm sure I'll never get a chance to talk to him, but hopefully he knows that he made many casual fans complete and lifelong followers.