The Football Fan Diaries
How many of you have had goose bumps when you strode onto the lush green playground of your school wearing the house colors? How many of you cried inconsolably like a kid being denied his lollipop when your father refused to buy you a new pair of boots? Did you spend the previous night deciding on which celebration to perform if you managed to score? If the answer to any of the above is an ‘aye’, I might just as well be you.
Reminiscences of high school football remain close to your chest for the entirety of your life. Though, not purely because of your lack of better footballing memories but more down to the romance associated. Indeed, one’s narration of his high school football stories could be easily mistaken for a Wordsworth composition; such poetic. When you first watched a blonde Beckham curl one in for Manchester United, you believed you could do it. The angle of the body at the time of impact, the wrapping of the foot around the ball and the follow through – you studied all of that. You knew, the poor football training facilities or lack of it coupled with your parents’ never satiating desire to see you as a model student would be a handicap in your quest to do a Beckham some day. Your best bet to live the dream was at school and so you did.
How many of you missed a heartbeat when you walked up to take a spot kick? The hyperactivity of the adrenal glands as you strode towards the ball with hundreds of eyes on you; you remember that, don’t you? And then as you glided the ball past the keeper, only just, the euphoria descending around you can never be forgotten. The quiet, complaintive stare of the boys on the bench; the feeling of guilt to have deprived someone to chance to live their dream was strong too. Everytime you lost the ball, every shot you skewed wide, and every tackle you mistimed – you knew you are one mistake closer to join them on the bench.
How many of you always had that pacy left winger in the opposition ranks whom you wanted to secretly elbow? Everytime he had been able to get the better of you and all you were wishing for was the referee to look the other way when you ground him with a ‘cheap shot’ to his chin. Now you can afford a smile over it, perhaps that winger too. Back then, nothing quite like that.
When Diego Maradona did the ‘rabona’, you took note and for the next umpteen sessions you tried to cross the ball by toe-poking with the wrong foot. Or when Jay Jay Okocha did the rainbow, you knew that was the single skill move which if performed to near perfection would guarantee crowd adoration. But, lobbing the ball over the defender with the heel seemed a far more difficult skill to manufacture during a game as compared to a back volley or a step over. Yet, you never gave up or did you?
But it was just not always about the football. If the modern footballers have WAGS to blow their kisses to after scoring, we had our crushes back then. How many of you secretly stole a glance at that girl standing in the corner of the arena as you rose to punch the air after scoring the winner? Yes, you did. Sadly, the defenders had minimal chances to woo the crowd; they never could do the fancy tricks nor score goals that often. But every time he shrugged off a striker or leveled him to the ground with an inch perfect sliding tackle, the crowd appreciated.
Some of you have built your future on whatever you did in that summer. You might have gone onto represent your college, your University or even your country. But wouldn’t you concur that the high school football makes up your fondest memories archive? The rest of you quit, because for them, playing football was never going to be the same without their high school mates. School and football together make the most dangerously romantic concoction ever. People who read past the first stanza, would agree.