the game

Sunday, October 01, 2006 T: 00 36

Soccer. For some, the thrill of watching 20 men across the field can be so foreign and totally incomprehensible. Yet at the same time, the ticket to the World Cup finals costs some people more than the air ticket to Germany itself. For me, exasperated with the numerous long and monotonous drama serials, seem to have everlasting zeal for 90 minutes’ game. Each weekend means several hours at the coffeeshop downstairs, glued to the plasma screen with a cup of drink besides me. I suppose it comes from the amazement and awe in watching the talent of the players, watching the likes of Henry and Ronaldo manipulating the ball as if it is a part of their bodies, the sportsmanship and cooperation that holds the team together, linking the defense, the midfield and the attack. It is the beautiful goals that astonish and thrill me, that 1 minute enough to nullify the other 89 minutes of seemingly wasted time. And as I watched the Arsenal-Charlton match just now, delighted with the skills and talent of the Arsenal players, I find myself unconsciously switching my support to the 0 point Charlton. I really admire them as they persevere throughout the entire match, searching hopefully for the sheer luck that may pit them against their opponents who are paid 10 times more than them. I think for them, a victory can be so much appreciated than their Chelsea counterparts. Because when they win, it’s not the just the individual that took them there, but the other team. Because when they win, the victory is the confirmation and vindication of their unfailing hope and motivation. Because when they play, they play for the game and for one another, not money…