Crazy for Arsenal...

I've never been much of a sportsman and, frankly, I've always felt bad about it. 

Like most American boys I grew up on the field. I played baseball and basketball though never football (wasn't allowed) and the less traditional sports, too: hockey, soccer, skiing, and lacrosse. I was a pretty decent athlete (and still ski) but when the final whistle blew, that was that. Zero sentimentality and, moreover, zero time wasted watching TV save the occasional Olympics or Olympic-like Super Bowl or World Series.

Over the years, I would overhear sports-related conversations and would spy commuters immersed in the sporting pages. I'd be jealous of this passion and the bond between fans and wonder why I could never catch the fever. After all, sports have the power of being able to unite, to divide and, always, to provoke emotion. 

In England, a friend took me to see Arsenal, a top-flight North London football club play Liverpool in the English Premier League. While I don't recall the score, I do remember feeling my heart race yet somehow, back in the States, the experience was forgotten until years later.

Channel surfing, I saw Arsenal on TV. I put down the remote and watched. What happened is hard to explain but is worth trying: it's like the first time you drive a standard without abusing the clutch; it's like the first time you feel yourself being stared at by someone you want to be staring at you. You feel glee, elation and when the goodness stops, utter dejection.

I now follow Arsenal religiously. On weekends I watch them play. On weekdays I read the press and the blogs to keep abreast of their ups/downs. I care about them as if they were a part of my family because for me, they are. Just this week, when my family left the lunch hall to resume skiing (it was a ski vacation after all) I stayed behind to watch the Gunners take out Milan 2-0 in the 2008 Champions League semi-finals. As the final whistle blew, I stood up and clapped loudly enough to win unwanted stares and most likely, silent jeers. It didn't and doesn't matter, anymore, because whistles notwithstanding I am now a sportsman...