I have recently rekindled my love for soccer. Each night here I spend typically logging 6-8 hours of footage. During that time I have left the television on the local sports channel just for background noise at first. Typically this shows sports that are not typically popular in America. Cricket, Rugby, a sport I can only describe as roller derby but with bicycles, and of course soccer/football.
I grew up as many Americans do playing soccer most saturdays and sundays. The first team I ever played was called The Reds. I was in kindergarden and pardon my hubris but we were good. At that age, most kids just see the ball and run to where it is trying to kick it. Clump ball. For some reason though, The Reds seemed to get that didn’t work. We used to beat teams scoring anywhere from 10-20 goals a game by just spacing out the field. Granted it was only slightly more than the other team, that was all it took. If we fell back into the habit of everyone chasing the ball, our coach would just yell out “Clump ball” Thats all it would take for The Reds to go back to spreading the field. Our coach only gave us that one bit of coaching during the game. But that was all it took. A simple verbal cue that got the team back on track. The other bit of coaching he provided after each game. That story is for another day.
I was never really that good at soccer though and stopped playing after 7th grade.
I would go to games over the years cheering teams on. My brother’s challenge teams and high school teams. Girls soccer team my senior year in high school. That was mostly because a bunch of guys started to bring musical equipment and turned cheering into a concert.
At Barton I went to watch most of the guys and girls games though this was mostly to support my friends. It was there I started to appreciate the game. I slowly began to realize the joy of watching live soccer. I found myself going to games alone not just to show support for the Bulldogs, but because I started to develop a knowledge and appreciation of what it took be a good team. I am sure I still have only a basic understanding of the game but that coupled with the unity I felt with the team was all i needed to be at every girl’s and guy’s home game that fall.
I think that fall was the last live soccer game I went to. Really it was the last time I thought or cared about soccer until now. Now I can’t get enough.
There must be about 10 hours of soccer on the local liberian sports channel each day. At first I only left the TV on when the best of the best were playing. Manchester United vs Liverpool. Chelsea vs Arsenal. The top talent playing at the highest level. How could I not be entertained?
Then I found myself leaving the TV on for what I think was a Ghanian soccer league.
Last night I even watched the end of an epic Liberian high school matchup which ended 2-1 after an amazing goal via bicycle kick with less than 5 mins or so to play. It was awesome. What was even better was it was the team that I somehow decided to side with.
At breakfast this morning, I overheard two of the Liberian waiters talking about that goal. I quickly joined the conversation and found myself speaking with the same passion and loyalty I had when watching and discussing Barton soccer games.
I absolutely loved those fall days. Not just going to the games, but being able to talk with the players the night after a game capped the experience for me. Drinking to celebrate or to drown the sorrows; it got to the point where I felt I was a part of the team. That I had a stake in each victory and in each defeat. Remembering this made me wish I had a team again.
At first I ran through all the English Premier League trying to find a team I would like and could associate with. But after checking out all the teams I just felt like a poser. LIke the one day I wore jean shorts in middle school. While I love watching the games, I have no tie to the teams and so I moved to MLS. American soccer. But again, looking through the teams, I just felt lame and if I could not support a team I just picked based on doing research online. Super lame. Way lame Kelly.
I realize while it is great to watch top talent play top talent, that is not why I enjoyed watching Barton College. They were my team. I had pride in my team. I knew the players and having this connection made the game mean more.
While it is fun to watch fun to admire the talent of a Messi or Rooney, I would much rather watch Randol or Tara net a goal.
And then it clicked. I have a team already. A team I have supported for a few years though only through talks with my man Kevin Brosseau. A team that I can get behind. A team I can have pride in. And best of all a local team.
Carolina Railhawks baby.
I have not been to a game yet and embarrassingly admit that it is because I foolishly thought only top tier soccer was worth watching live. I even remember a week before leaving for Liberia going on a long rant bulleting the reasons a semi-pro soccer club could never exist and thrive in North Carolina. I basically trashed the “lower level” talent of the players and ended confidently with what I thought was such a strong solid point at the time.
“I mean come on, its semi-pro. Why would people pay good money to watch players who are not even the top talent in American, let alone the World?”
Well now I know who. Me.
Because I know in the fall of 2006 if given the choice of watching a live Liverpool Manchester United game or watching a Barton Mount Olive game, I would choose the Barton game every time.
With the Railhawks, I have the chance to have a team again. I may not know any of the players yet, and I may not have tickets to the games yet but that will all change the day I get back to NC. Tickets will be bought. Games will be watched. I hear the players head to a local bar after games as well.
Starting to sound a lot like the days of watching Barton games to me. I can’t wait. Until then.
Go Railhawks Go.
