So, I had the opportunity the other day to attend a meeting in regards to an internship. It is for a "football" (soccer) book company called BackPage Press. They specialize in books about soccer, and basically all things soccer. For the internship, we were supposed to write about our favorite football memory. Well, being an American, soccer isn't a major thing where I'm from. But, I did watch the England v. America game during the World Cup. Since you all have been reading my fictional writing, I figured I would share my non-fiction writing. So, here it is!
Football. This word conjures up visions of tailgates in packed stadium parking lots, the New England Patriots playing in blinding snow while the spectators have a snowball fight in the stands, and the Super Bowl. To me, coming from a country where football reigns supreme and Tom Brady is god, soccer was something we played in gym class while wearing ketchup and mustard colored pinnies. It wasn't until I did my study abroad semester in Scotland in the Spring of 2010 that I realized what “football” really meant. It wasn't just a game, it was a cultural experience shared by millions around the globe, seemingly everywhere except the USA. We have a football culture, but none so striking as Britain. There are bar fights between Celtic and Arsenal fans that are discussed years over. There are celebrations for the simplest goals that rival any victory celebration I have ever seen. It has been an incredible experience to be surrounded by such a rich and deeply ingrained sense of passion for sport.
It wasn't until I returned home that summer, though, that I had my first, real, football memory. I had just arrived home and the World Cup had began. All of my new friends from Britain were getting amped up about it for weeks beforehand so I figured I should at least watch some of it. I live about ten minutes away from Boston, so I remember the massive to-do when Italy won a few years back and the North End of Boston turned into a churning river of red, white, and green. Little did I know, America were playing England in one of the matches, and although I realized we wouldn't be able to celebrate like the Italians, I had to support my country nonetheless. As the match went on, I was fervently texting with my friends back in Britain, all of whom were trying to explain what was going on and betting on who was going to win. Their alliances obviously lied with England.
I was receiving jabs here and there saying America should stick to its own sports, but by the end of the match those statements were irrelevant. Half way through the match a commercial aired which depicted an American muscle car, driven by the iconic George Washington, bombing out of a forest towards a group of fleeing Red Coats. I felt a surge of patriotism and deep down I knew we had a fighting chance. In those crucial last minutes, the English keeper had snatched the ball up and defended his goal, but managed to fumble it seconds later. The ball rolled between his legs and America drew with England. I'm pretty sure I could hear the screams of disdain from across the Atlantic and feared for the safety of the keeper. America beating England in a football match was seemingly unheard of, but we did it. Although it wasn't a total win, it was enough of a victory in our eyes. We didn't make it much further, but that game was unforgettable. It was a great moment for America and I felt lucky to be able to share it while on my home soil.
Enjoy! Feedback would be appreciated!
-EJG
Football. This word conjures up visions of tailgates in packed stadium parking lots, the New England Patriots playing in blinding snow while the spectators have a snowball fight in the stands, and the Super Bowl. To me, coming from a country where football reigns supreme and Tom Brady is god, soccer was something we played in gym class while wearing ketchup and mustard colored pinnies. It wasn't until I did my study abroad semester in Scotland in the Spring of 2010 that I realized what “football” really meant. It wasn't just a game, it was a cultural experience shared by millions around the globe, seemingly everywhere except the USA. We have a football culture, but none so striking as Britain. There are bar fights between Celtic and Arsenal fans that are discussed years over. There are celebrations for the simplest goals that rival any victory celebration I have ever seen. It has been an incredible experience to be surrounded by such a rich and deeply ingrained sense of passion for sport.
It wasn't until I returned home that summer, though, that I had my first, real, football memory. I had just arrived home and the World Cup had began. All of my new friends from Britain were getting amped up about it for weeks beforehand so I figured I should at least watch some of it. I live about ten minutes away from Boston, so I remember the massive to-do when Italy won a few years back and the North End of Boston turned into a churning river of red, white, and green. Little did I know, America were playing England in one of the matches, and although I realized we wouldn't be able to celebrate like the Italians, I had to support my country nonetheless. As the match went on, I was fervently texting with my friends back in Britain, all of whom were trying to explain what was going on and betting on who was going to win. Their alliances obviously lied with England.
I was receiving jabs here and there saying America should stick to its own sports, but by the end of the match those statements were irrelevant. Half way through the match a commercial aired which depicted an American muscle car, driven by the iconic George Washington, bombing out of a forest towards a group of fleeing Red Coats. I felt a surge of patriotism and deep down I knew we had a fighting chance. In those crucial last minutes, the English keeper had snatched the ball up and defended his goal, but managed to fumble it seconds later. The ball rolled between his legs and America drew with England. I'm pretty sure I could hear the screams of disdain from across the Atlantic and feared for the safety of the keeper. America beating England in a football match was seemingly unheard of, but we did it. Although it wasn't a total win, it was enough of a victory in our eyes. We didn't make it much further, but that game was unforgettable. It was a great moment for America and I felt lucky to be able to share it while on my home soil.
Enjoy! Feedback would be appreciated!
-EJG