The New Religion Called Football

Last week, I was dragged by my friends to go see a football match. Trust me when I say this: I'm part of the few percent of men that don't get moved by football.

Yes, I said it. I don't watch football. Not that I have a tangible reason why I don't, but I just don't find it important to anything that makes up my existence. I've been made fun of by friends and attributed to being a lady because I don't watch football. Gladly, on several occasions, I'll give them a feminine name to call me if they think that not watching football automatically makes me identify as a woman.
I've always really wondered what fun it was that a group of 22 grown men would be in a field only to struggle to get an inflated object, and when they did, they'd kick it away.

Okay, I might sound dumb here, but that's just how I feel. Mind you, I'm not here to talk bad about the beautiful game. It's just that I have always wondered what makes the game of football so special. Not until last Sunday, when I was at the bar with friends to see the game, did it dawn on me what this game really meant to the people who loved it.

It was clear to me; it needed no further explanation of the joy this beautiful game gives. It was clear in their faces: the excitement, the adrenaline rush, the sadness, and the emotions put into this game.

You can see it in their eyes, and you can hear it in their voice. You experience it with them. You live it with them. It's like life flowing in their blood; it's like oxygen for them to survive.

The banter that seems like they're arguing, but in actuality, it's just each man defending their team. It's the laughter over the bottle of beer and clapping of hands with the words "well played" in choruses when their team player plays well.

At that moment, they're like kids, unable to hide their emotions or their feelings. They feel sad or even cry when a player from their team messes up the play. They yell at the coach and even become temporary coaches from where they're seated.

It's a beautiful sight. When you see how they unite, not minding the tribe, how they canvass for support, and how in that play of ninety minutes they make new friends and let go of their worries, they can even opt to pay for a stranger's drink just because you're supporting their team.

It makes you realise what this beautiful game of football really means to them. No, let me rephrase. At that point, you realise what this game of football means to humanity.

So, here I am apologising for seeing this game as only a group of 22 grown men put in a field only to struggle to get an inflated object and then kick it away.
Believe me, I've seen the light, and now I've found a new religion, a religion called "football," and I'm ready and willing to convert to a lover of football. Now I need a team I'll support.

Yes, I'm willing to convert only to the team that will convince me and love me, not minding my ignorance of the game.

Till I find that team...

Ya gazie.