The Purple Mango Pandemonium

Musings of an unapologetic, natural, smart, left-handed woman navigating this thing called life.

Why I love football (soccer)

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I love football and it’s that time again. Less than a week. World Cup 2018. Except this time I am not going to Russia. World Cup 2010 South Africa and World Cup 2014 Brazil were awesome, but no, you can’t make me go to Russia. I’m not going. But I’m going to enjoy the next several weeks. I don’t even play football. I can’t! I do have my favourite club teams (Manchester United) that I stick with no matter what happens. Right now we stink. But I don’t watch all the games in the English Premier League. The World Cup though is a different beast. I have so much passion for this one sport that unifies the world albeit for a month. For one month we all speak the same language and that is football. That’s right, not the Olympics!

The Boring Reasons Why I Love Football

Uninterrupted play: I’m talking to you United States. These “sports” of yours where you run around for 5 minutes then have an advertisement break, I’m still shaking my head, 20-odd years later. What is that?

The sport is the highlight: Again United States, your sporting events are about a half-time show with pyrotechnics, cheerleaders, and music. When I’m watching sports, I don’t need to watch a concert. The sport is the entertainment. Simple.

Global sport: Who doesn’t love football? I mean come on!

The announcers: GOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLLL! Listen to a football match with your eyes closed and you are guaranteed to smile. Watching football is like eating ice cream. Immediate serotonin release = happiness.

The Facetiousness Reasons Why I Love Football

Some people who don’t like football complain about “the bunch of pansies chasing a ball on a field falling at any and every slight touch from an opponent”. And I’m like, that’s right. There is drama and I’m here for all of it. All of it I say. Football is a beautiful game.

I love how they fall to the ground with any light touch. I just want to rock them in my bosom, oh poor baby, did you suffer a boo-boo?

I love when the men pull their shorts up displaying their strong thighs (wait, is it just tippy-toes Cristiano Ronaldo who does that?)

I love how they fall to their knees and pray after they have committed a foul or are about to get a yellow or red card.
I love how they hug each other across teams…right after fouling each other.
How they sing their national anthem, crying, eyes closed.
How they get angry and butt heads, yes Zidane!
How their feet move with the speed of lightning.
How they celebrate a goal with their unique dances, flips, and actions.
How their fans cheer on an anticipated goal and yell at an unfair foul.
How it’s not fair. But life is not fair.
How it is so unpredictable.
How the coaches walk the sides with stern faces.
How I still don’t see the point of an offside.
How, 8 years later, I’m still upset with Luis Suarez.
How the players lift up their jerseys to wipe any sweat away.
Did I mention how gorgeous they invariably are?
How they sulk or cry when their side loses or when they get injured and can’t play anymore. Oh Buffon, my heart goes out to you.
How they sob and weep even when they have won?
How they are pensive before a corner kick, free kick, or penalty kick.
How they kiss the ground.
How their fans are just crazy crazy.
How I love to hate penalties.
The anguish of a ball hitting the goalpost. Oh so close. Oh so so close. Ugh!
I love the energy, the muscularity, the humanity, the tantrums, the antics. I just love this sport, okay. All of it. All of the shenanigans. Let’s go! World Cup 2018 Russia I’m ready!

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THE PURPLE MANGO PANDEMONIUM

A lover of mangoes. A woman - smart, without pretense, lefthanded, Afropolitan - navigating this thing called life. An unapologetic believer in social justice and karma. Choosing to radiate positive energy and be true to myself. Here, my musings.

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