The Beautiful Game

I was sitting in Momo’s at lunch today, eating a slice of chicken and artichoke pizza, watching the opening match of the 2006 FIFA World Cup taking place in Germany. I didn’t expect the match to be on, but it started on the TV right as I sat down, and I got to watch the first half. I was sitting there, allowing myself to be taken into the game, and a great feeling of peace and well-being came over me. I think it’s akin to one of the reasons I became a footie fan in the first place: I was so depressed over the state of things in the U.S. while I was living in Japan that international and English football became an escape, a fully self-contained world within which I could lose myself and devote hours, days, weeks, years to analyzing players, coaches, teams, tournaments, games, etc. The whole international aspect to it lends a plethora of styles and cultural accents to the game. Also, it’s a pan-global conversation starter. From Bali to Britain to Buenos Aires, I can talk to people about football.
But getting back to my sense of contentment- another reason for it could be the nostalgia for my life as an expat. At the last World Cup in Japan and Korea in 2002, I was actually there, with the fans from all over the world, with the Irish, the Mexicans, the Argies, the Brits, the Italians, the Senegalese. And I was there as an outsider whose team was doing unexpectedly well, smashing all preconceptions of the Americans’ lack of attention to the beautiful game. This environment reinforced why I loved living abroad with other expats, the constant stimulation of being immersed in a foreign land and a foreign tongue, making bridges of understanding on an hourly basis, and constantly learning more about yourself and your land of upbringing. It is the learning, the transition of perception, that I love so much, which is why I love teaching so much as well. I guess the World Cup is a deep, psychological marker for me, exemplifying all that is great about my own self-realization.