For the love of the game

Some say football is matter of life and death. Bill Shankly said it was more than that. Ok, let this be known as the first time when anything by anyone in anyway associated with Liverpool FC has had any real significance. 

No, that's not entirely true. As much as my team hates theirs I have to admit that the Champions League final in Istanbul was nothing short of phenomenal. As much as it kills me to say this (this is one of the reasons this blog is anonymous- my own lot would slaughter me for ever admitting this), they deserved to win. And I'm glad they did.

Hell, I once even tried to date a Liverpool fan! And my current is a City fan! Huntington could have written his book on the clash of civilizations about me! I clearly love a good class war!

You can say what you want but football is simply... magical. And no, it's not because they don't wear helmets and you can actually see their hair (Just look at Ji Sun Park). Or because occasionally they strip off their jerseys (these days most of them are overpaid primadonnas that are willing to strip off much more than that. Usually in the company of fame-hungry  kiss and tell- sluts desperate to do anything for their 15 minutes. That's how News of the World survived as long as it did)

While my female friends have managed to find a husband , a mortgage and kids I have ended up with an impressive collection of football jerseys and about 30 drunken football fans for friends. Apparently (in certain primitive cultures) being able to explain the offside rule makes you extremely desirable. A prerequisite I follow to a T (And occasionally to the G that comes before the T).

I'd like to think football merely provides me a socially acceptable outlet for being loud and obnoxious. 

Yes, there have been many wasted weekends. The operative word over here being wasted. That is the one reason why I could never be a Shabbat observing Jew. The English Premiership games always fall on Saturdays. Well, the good ones, anyway.  

My sole contribution for the upbringing of my niece and nephew has been the football jerseys and caps I bought for them the moment they were born. And today, at the ripe old ages of 5 and 9 ,they both play football.  (And support Barcelona FC).

But football is nothing if not magical. It has succeeded where religions and UN have failed. Every 4 years the entire world puts their differences aside and come together and for 90 minutes we all speak the same language. "Goaaaaaaaaaaaaaal!" 

Though, more often than that: "the referee's a wanker". 

And in England...every single time: "we were robbed".