It Matters

I've seen that look a thousand times. Each time it's worded a little differently but the gist is always the same. It's not meant to be condescending, or at least nowhere near as patronizing as it appears. Most of the time it is born out of genuine concern for my well being. Friend and stranger alike, staring me up and down like I've just beamed down from a distant planet.

“Why is he getting so worked up?”

Some understand, even if not quite to the same degree. Most don't - can't even – and see it as an overreaction to a meaningless consequence. The people who – when everything goes wrong - will say it is just a game. Words that poison the heart of everyone who has committed any real length of time to the beautiful game. For the devotees, it is mostly a very one sided relationship. An unrequited love which leads to almost annual – if not weekly - disappointment. Remaining forever loyal in the hope that things will be different one day. Those days – however infrequently they do occur – are the ones we cherish forever.

Divisive though it can be, it has the capacity to unite in a way that so few other things can. It's a language that can be shared between cultures that seem to have very little else in common. Humanity bonds together closest through shared experience and though I might not know how to express myself in a variety of different tongues, I can still enjoy the thrill of a last minute goal with anyone around the world. No matter whatever else separates us, football remains the same.