Good LORD I'm going to miss soccer

Soccer has always been the sport that's eluded me. I really wanted to love it, but I could never get into it. My famous 2 week stint in the peewee league in kindergarten has become one of my family's favorite stories. I was told to be midfield, to stand in midfield, and not to leave my position. I then was yelled at when I didn't run after the ball. It's not my fault I'm freakishly obedient. I would drift around soccer in high school, playing DevL and the like. The World Cup two summers ago had me interested. I remember really enjoying watching a match with the US Mens Rowing team in a Princeton common room. That was more due to the fact that it was me and 10 of the most gorgeous men you will ever find. I don't think I was even facing the television. 

That being said, I have really become attached to soccer here. (I'm not going to call it football, I'm an American, it's soccer dammit) I'm pretty sure I love it for the same reason I love the Olympics, it's ALWAYS on. I don't have a television here, but everytime I would go to pub or a hostel, there was always a soccer match on. So I began watching the games whenever I would see them. Soccer mixes drama and athleticism in a way that makes in the ultimate entertainment experience. I needed to pick a team, which was harder than I thought it would be. I chose the team fairly easily, actually, but accepting my choice was harder. See, I chose Manchester United. They have been referred to on more than one occasion as the "Yankees of the Premier League". ew. They are the ultimate bandwagon fan team. But the thing is, they're ALWAYS on. When I don't have the luxury of multiple game day choices, I have to go with whats on, and that's Manchester United. Plus they have Christiano Ronaldo, perhaps the hottest soccer player around. And it leads to conversations like this:

Caroline: Wait, Ronaldo the guy who got transvestite prostitutes or Ronaldo with rape charges

Me: Rape charges

Caroline: Oh yea, he's good

If this was an American team I would be disgusted with them and with myself for liking them. But since this is study abroad and I'm allowed to go wild, woo, go Man U! Anyway, the point is Man U is good, very good, and last night they were in the Champions League final. Well I had to go watch! So while sitting around a bonfire the other night I asked if anyone was interested in going to watch. I was met with looks from my friends that clearly said they would rather get naked and jump in the fire than watch a soccer match. Screw them all. I was still going to watch, so I went down to O'Neils pub, where I had seen some matches before, and took the risk of being one of 5 girls (perhaps the only one without a boyfriend) in a pub during a soccer final. My mom just had a heart attack. Lets take a minute while she recovers. Alright, she should be good by now. Anyway, I have limited funds for these final days so I allotted enough money for one beer a half. Plus I needed to get back and pack after the game, so I couldn't go nuts. I bought myself a beer, found a nice ledge and the game began. Here is what's different about Man U and the Yankees. There is a large portion of baseball fans who are "anyone but the Yankees" fans. Not just Red Sox fans, but people who just hate the big name teams. They'll come to the bars and root loudly against the Yankees just for the hell of that. Man U inspires fear in other fans. Even fans of the other team (Chelsea) were quiet in the pub until the end of the match. Everytime I've watched a Man U game, opposing fans would stand in corners of the pub and mutter softly under their breaths at good plays, offering subdued applause for their team's goals. I love any team that can inspire fear, it's hard to do, and when done successfully is amazing. The game began and was fairly low key. Man U scored the first goal and the place errupted. At the end of the first half Chelsea scored a goal and I became aware that there were Chelsea fans in the room for the first time, you never would have known. The second half was far more exciting than the first. Everyone had some alcohol in them, it was tense, the teams were duking it out. There was blood, there was a fight, there was drama, it was AWESOME. I was getting a rush, I was filled with adrenaline, I stole my pint glass just to feel like a rebel. The half ends, still tied at one. Well, can't break a promise to myself, off to buy another beer. Get back to my corner, the two guys behind me are best friends, each rooting for a different team, they both look like they're going to throw up. I realize I don't know how extra time works, first goal scored or set amount of time, who knows. I'm afraid of asking such a beginners question so I take a deep breath and ask the less threatening of the two (both were completely harmless, one was just less stressed than the other). Both break into huge smiles and tell me it's a set amount of time. "Ah! A foreigner! New Jersey you say? I love Kevin Smith movies!" (first time I've heard reference to those over here. Glad to see i could bring their blood pressure down a little. I like to think I helped save their lives. We become best friends. We're yelling, we're anguishing, it's great. Extra time ends, here we go, penalty kicks. The whole room breaks into huge grins, this is what they wanted. Everyone grabs another beer...oh hell, why not, I'll join in. Both teams make their first two kicks. Ronaldo goes and tries to fake the keeper out, ends up missing his shot. The room dies. Cries break out. If Ronaldo can't make his shot, we're doomed. Chelsea makes it's next two shots. Man U makes it's final shot. If Chelsea makes this next shot, it's over, Chelsea wins.....HE BLOWS IT! The room errupts, we're still alive. Next round, both teams make their first shot. Giggs, the most beloved player on the team makes his shot. The room goes nuts. Everyone can feel somethings about to happen. Chelsea's man goes for his shot, VAN DER SAR BLOCKS IT! MANCHESTER UNITED WINS! Someone grabs me, we're hugging, we're jumping, everyone's high fiving. AWESOME. I can't hear the audio that goes along as we watch the trophy presentation, but who cares, it's pretty clear what's happening. The game that was supposed to end around 9:45ish has now ended at 11. I have to run, grab some dinner and catch the last bus home. Having spent all my dinner money on beer, I'm left at the mercy of McDonalds euro saver menu. Whatever, I have enough adrenaline running through me at that moment that I could eat grass and still be happy.