There's a fine line between gamesmanship and provocation. It's called 'Stewards'. Or in some cases, Referees.In cases like mine, a few close friends. But apparently, there's no point of difference when it comes to being overwhelmed with emotion in a cup final and that too for two teams that I do not support, and just being blatantly stupid; as was the case with me last night when Arsenal took on Birmingham City.
Here's the setting.
The Arsenal Mumbai Supporters Club (AMSC) held a get together for Arsenal fans at a local suburban restaurant-turned "Private Screening" to showcase the Arsenal v/s Birmingham Carling Cup Final on a sunday night. Now, unlike a Manchester United Cafe, Arsenal fans do not have a commercialized home where they can enter anytime they want and enjoy a game without any major worries of where, when, how well will it be organized, entry fees, accommodation, beverage and food rations and... you get what I'm saying right? So, all this was taken care of by creating event forums on facebook among other social websites. Arsenal fans were really coming together for a cause they believed in that would yield their first trophy in over 6 years. And when I got there, I felt a sense of hope, 'togetherness' and pride. I was really happy to see a few committed supporters bring together a larger group of like minded people and help make the experience of watching a final, their very own little Emirates. Well done I say. A neutral would've enjoyed the atmosphere thoroughly and got every rupee worth of beer and tacos even if they were a wee bit flat and salsa-less. Anyway, as it turned out, there happened to be a priceless blood diamond, me; a gem of a football lover that every fan inside that room would want to get his hands on. Cue Leonardo Dicaprio.
Now, for a fierce 30-40 minute period in the game. And, the No Point of Difference.
The restaurant was packed! Over 160 fans in a sea of Red and White. In my opinion, only 4 or 5 would get that medal of extreme bravery and fighting off what would be a storm of Arsenal supporters converging to drown out a life boat in the middle of nowhere with a fog-horn of a whistle. What was the poor rafter thinking of weathering such a mighty storm, I don't know. My guess was that he wasn't thinking.
So here I was, a rose amongst thorns waiting to puncture me till I was nothing more than a plain rubber costume. Still degradable, fortunately. I was the only guy in that arena who dawned on a blueish shirt to callously support Birmingham City, a team I'm not even fond of. However, I'm quite aware I made it known to the other guys which team I was backing right from kick off. They'd go:
clap clap CLAP CLAP CLAP, ARSENAL!!! ARSENAL!!!
clap clap CLAP CLAP CLAP, ARSENAL!!! ARSENAL!!!
clap clap CLAP CLAP CLAP, ARSENAL!!! ARSENAL!!! (city!)
clap clap CLAP CLAP CLAP, ARSENAL!!! ARSENAL!!! (city!)
- that (city!) was my shrilled shriek between every ARSENAL!!! and clap of the next line.
Next Verse :
Rooooobin Van Persie, Roooooobin Van Persie, clap clap, clap clap.
Rooooobin Van Persie, Roooooobin Van Persie, clap clap, clap clap.
Rooooobin Van Persie, Roooooobin Van Persie, clap clap, clap clap.
Rooooobin Van Persie, Roooooobin Van Persie, Fos Ter, Fos Ter.
So now naturally, a few eyes were staring in my direction and I couldn't care less. Mistake. I was here. Determined. Adamant is more like it and I wanted to be heard as well. Bigger mistake.
The game was end to end. City, if you watched were not sitting quiet and Foster did play well in goal making a string of early saves. So just to get under some people's skins, I'd stand up clapping and hailing Foster's heroics; my once very much hated figure between the two posts during his time at United. But i thought, what the heck as this went on for about thirty minutes and no one said anything. I think they were being more polite at letting me stay in. I don't think that for a second, neither of us would know how I'd react to a Birmingham goal. But we did find out shortly afterwards.
32' - Zigic scores. I jump up in the air! I wave my fists about like giving bad directions at a traffic signal.
32' - Come ON!!!! YEAHHHH!!!! BLODDY HELLLL YEAAAH!!!!
32' - The rest remain silent.
33' - WHOAREYA! WHOAREYA! WHOAREYA! WHOAREYA!!!
33' - Stunned arsenal faces. Disbelieving. More of what I think of whats happening in here rather than just having conceded a goal!
34' - They gather some voices of sheer frustration at me rather than wanting to drown me out. I thought it was a poor effort,
34' - Tempers start to heat up and I get back to my seat telling the others it's just a game.
34' - Two of the main Organizers ask me to cool it and restrain myself throughout the rest of the game.
34' - There's one very noticeably drunk fan who's abusing me with every cuss word in the Prictionary.
35' - My close friend intervenes to settle down some nerves and we all return to our seats. Me, still being rightfully abused.
36' - While there's still murmuring, another friend tells me, you should leave in the 40th. I tell him, I should leave right now. Another friend I've known since I was baby, an understandably over-protective woman suggested I leave immediately after I suggested the same to her two-seconds before she brought down the gavel.
36' - I sneak out the back with my friends accompanying me to my car, now quite frankly, quivering with fear out of sheer stupidity.
37' - I get into my car after being made to wait for what was the longest 30 seconds of my life on the street where I don't live.
38' - I drive off as fast as I could riding my luck thinking of what might have been an uneventful evening for both parties had I stayed on and the problems I would've caused my arsenal friends.
39' - You've got a message! Bob: We just put one in. RVP 1-1.
Yeah, I know, stupid but lucky. You could say, Stucky - like the guy from Pretty Woman, only without the sexual harassment.
From then on, I could only imagine that the people there were scavenging for me, waiting to tear me up into pieces and leave me to rot in the red sea.
I continued to drive. Not looking back once. Got to a friends place and watched the second half as Birmingham were gifted a trophy right at the death. I wasn't laughing. Just a smirk, but that was it.
Here's the Realization - of being a total arse, Understanding - that I was a total arse and Maturity - Never again will I want to be a total arse.
I know what it's like to be a fan. I support Manchester United. I can understand the emotions you get caught up in during a game. The excitement and the atmosphere around you get to you. You get drawn in and you become a part of it. It is an amazing feeling, one of the best! I've been there when I sided with Arsenal against Chelsea a few years ago and you want to be part of something. Now, said emotions and me tipping off Arsenal for a win is irrelevant after what happened. I just wanted to spoke someone's wheels. In my case those wheels that I irrationally tried to put a stop to belonged to a boeing 747. Or two of them one on top of each other... with one drunk pilot. What I was doing there supporting a club just out of trying to get under 160 odd home fans was stupidity. One or two are okay. 160 is pushing it a bit too much. Just to try and prove that my voice could be louder that yours attitude would've gotten my jaw facing my right shoulder. Then, you could probably say, were I to play the soprano saxophone, I'd be the Indian Kenny G.
I disrespected the occasion for all the Arsenal fans. I took away something from them and me by being an older version of me. I could've sat out the entire game and see them leave the pub with hanging heads and punched walls. We could have both enjoyed a special night although, it would've been me having the last laugh. But like I said before, just couldn't laugh. It's like the embarrassment I caused myself, did me in.
I betrayed the trust of a few friends and their privilege of ever being allowed to be part of another event in the future. I don't want to sound condescending, but I hope that the generally good natured side of any arsenal fan that I've ever seen will get the better of them. Except for that one guy who possibly created some new cusses while he gargled them in his beer and spat them out at me. That's the kind of balance you need within the fan base. Not some punk kid who thinks he's been there and seen it all to try and pull off a stunt quite mad as this one.
For now, its only the Man United Cafe for me. I'll always be a neutral and never take sides when my team aren't performing. Eph that, it's just not worth it. I'm still learning, I'm wiser now and, I know that for sure being a mouse in the lions den has changed the way I watch my surroundings and treat my meals.
Here's the setting.
The Arsenal Mumbai Supporters Club (AMSC) held a get together for Arsenal fans at a local suburban restaurant-turned "Private Screening" to showcase the Arsenal v/s Birmingham Carling Cup Final on a sunday night. Now, unlike a Manchester United Cafe, Arsenal fans do not have a commercialized home where they can enter anytime they want and enjoy a game without any major worries of where, when, how well will it be organized, entry fees, accommodation, beverage and food rations and... you get what I'm saying right? So, all this was taken care of by creating event forums on facebook among other social websites. Arsenal fans were really coming together for a cause they believed in that would yield their first trophy in over 6 years. And when I got there, I felt a sense of hope, 'togetherness' and pride. I was really happy to see a few committed supporters bring together a larger group of like minded people and help make the experience of watching a final, their very own little Emirates. Well done I say. A neutral would've enjoyed the atmosphere thoroughly and got every rupee worth of beer and tacos even if they were a wee bit flat and salsa-less. Anyway, as it turned out, there happened to be a priceless blood diamond, me; a gem of a football lover that every fan inside that room would want to get his hands on. Cue Leonardo Dicaprio.
Now, for a fierce 30-40 minute period in the game. And, the No Point of Difference.
The restaurant was packed! Over 160 fans in a sea of Red and White. In my opinion, only 4 or 5 would get that medal of extreme bravery and fighting off what would be a storm of Arsenal supporters converging to drown out a life boat in the middle of nowhere with a fog-horn of a whistle. What was the poor rafter thinking of weathering such a mighty storm, I don't know. My guess was that he wasn't thinking.
So here I was, a rose amongst thorns waiting to puncture me till I was nothing more than a plain rubber costume. Still degradable, fortunately. I was the only guy in that arena who dawned on a blueish shirt to callously support Birmingham City, a team I'm not even fond of. However, I'm quite aware I made it known to the other guys which team I was backing right from kick off. They'd go:
clap clap CLAP CLAP CLAP, ARSENAL!!! ARSENAL!!!
clap clap CLAP CLAP CLAP, ARSENAL!!! ARSENAL!!!
clap clap CLAP CLAP CLAP, ARSENAL!!! ARSENAL!!! (city!)
clap clap CLAP CLAP CLAP, ARSENAL!!! ARSENAL!!! (city!)
- that (city!) was my shrilled shriek between every ARSENAL!!! and clap of the next line.
Next Verse :
Rooooobin Van Persie, Roooooobin Van Persie, clap clap, clap clap.
Rooooobin Van Persie, Roooooobin Van Persie, clap clap, clap clap.
Rooooobin Van Persie, Roooooobin Van Persie, clap clap, clap clap.
Rooooobin Van Persie, Roooooobin Van Persie, Fos Ter, Fos Ter.
So now naturally, a few eyes were staring in my direction and I couldn't care less. Mistake. I was here. Determined. Adamant is more like it and I wanted to be heard as well. Bigger mistake.
The game was end to end. City, if you watched were not sitting quiet and Foster did play well in goal making a string of early saves. So just to get under some people's skins, I'd stand up clapping and hailing Foster's heroics; my once very much hated figure between the two posts during his time at United. But i thought, what the heck as this went on for about thirty minutes and no one said anything. I think they were being more polite at letting me stay in. I don't think that for a second, neither of us would know how I'd react to a Birmingham goal. But we did find out shortly afterwards.
32' - Zigic scores. I jump up in the air! I wave my fists about like giving bad directions at a traffic signal.
32' - Come ON!!!! YEAHHHH!!!! BLODDY HELLLL YEAAAH!!!!
32' - The rest remain silent.
33' - WHOAREYA! WHOAREYA! WHOAREYA! WHOAREYA!!!
33' - Stunned arsenal faces. Disbelieving. More of what I think of whats happening in here rather than just having conceded a goal!
34' - They gather some voices of sheer frustration at me rather than wanting to drown me out. I thought it was a poor effort,
34' - Tempers start to heat up and I get back to my seat telling the others it's just a game.
34' - Two of the main Organizers ask me to cool it and restrain myself throughout the rest of the game.
34' - There's one very noticeably drunk fan who's abusing me with every cuss word in the Prictionary.
35' - My close friend intervenes to settle down some nerves and we all return to our seats. Me, still being rightfully abused.
36' - While there's still murmuring, another friend tells me, you should leave in the 40th. I tell him, I should leave right now. Another friend I've known since I was baby, an understandably over-protective woman suggested I leave immediately after I suggested the same to her two-seconds before she brought down the gavel.
36' - I sneak out the back with my friends accompanying me to my car, now quite frankly, quivering with fear out of sheer stupidity.
37' - I get into my car after being made to wait for what was the longest 30 seconds of my life on the street where I don't live.
38' - I drive off as fast as I could riding my luck thinking of what might have been an uneventful evening for both parties had I stayed on and the problems I would've caused my arsenal friends.
39' - You've got a message! Bob: We just put one in. RVP 1-1.
Yeah, I know, stupid but lucky. You could say, Stucky - like the guy from Pretty Woman, only without the sexual harassment.
From then on, I could only imagine that the people there were scavenging for me, waiting to tear me up into pieces and leave me to rot in the red sea.
I continued to drive. Not looking back once. Got to a friends place and watched the second half as Birmingham were gifted a trophy right at the death. I wasn't laughing. Just a smirk, but that was it.
Here's the Realization - of being a total arse, Understanding - that I was a total arse and Maturity - Never again will I want to be a total arse.
I know what it's like to be a fan. I support Manchester United. I can understand the emotions you get caught up in during a game. The excitement and the atmosphere around you get to you. You get drawn in and you become a part of it. It is an amazing feeling, one of the best! I've been there when I sided with Arsenal against Chelsea a few years ago and you want to be part of something. Now, said emotions and me tipping off Arsenal for a win is irrelevant after what happened. I just wanted to spoke someone's wheels. In my case those wheels that I irrationally tried to put a stop to belonged to a boeing 747. Or two of them one on top of each other... with one drunk pilot. What I was doing there supporting a club just out of trying to get under 160 odd home fans was stupidity. One or two are okay. 160 is pushing it a bit too much. Just to try and prove that my voice could be louder that yours attitude would've gotten my jaw facing my right shoulder. Then, you could probably say, were I to play the soprano saxophone, I'd be the Indian Kenny G.
I disrespected the occasion for all the Arsenal fans. I took away something from them and me by being an older version of me. I could've sat out the entire game and see them leave the pub with hanging heads and punched walls. We could have both enjoyed a special night although, it would've been me having the last laugh. But like I said before, just couldn't laugh. It's like the embarrassment I caused myself, did me in.
I betrayed the trust of a few friends and their privilege of ever being allowed to be part of another event in the future. I don't want to sound condescending, but I hope that the generally good natured side of any arsenal fan that I've ever seen will get the better of them. Except for that one guy who possibly created some new cusses while he gargled them in his beer and spat them out at me. That's the kind of balance you need within the fan base. Not some punk kid who thinks he's been there and seen it all to try and pull off a stunt quite mad as this one.
For now, its only the Man United Cafe for me. I'll always be a neutral and never take sides when my team aren't performing. Eph that, it's just not worth it. I'm still learning, I'm wiser now and, I know that for sure being a mouse in the lions den has changed the way I watch my surroundings and treat my meals.
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