The third goal is where it’s at

I’d like to have posted something interesting about the various mid-week games last night, but that would have implied that I was actually at home to watch them. Instead, we were crashed out at the grand-parents-in-law’s place because we’d had to turn off the water to our house. Why? Because 2 pipes had broken, we had water pooling in the family room and water damage to various ceilings and walls.

How long have we been in the house, you ask? Two weeks and two days, thanks for asking. Mother and indeed fucker.

Anyway, I doubt I’ll have a chance tonight as there’s work to be done in tinkering with powerpoint presentations for the gig that actually pays the bills, but I wanted to leave you with a thought triggered from a post on Kanu’s blog. He posted a youtube video of various Arsenal goal highlights that included a Tony Adams goal (surely some mistake? ed.) but it’s the third goal from Dennis Bergkamp that stood out for me.

Just in the same way that USC football for me will always be about baking in the sun in the Coliseum in the student section and screaming abuse at the opposition, soccer – particularly English soccer – is really about the light fading at 4 p.m. BST, a chill in the air, floodlights, and distant memories of winter where the cold isn’t extreme but the damp really puts it in your bones until you jump up and down like a maniac. It’s tied up in nostalgia for a happy childhood that changed abruptly to a more sunny background when we moved to the States…

Time was I jumped up and down to warm up because I was a little kid and that’s what they do, but one of these days I’m going to get to a game like this one below, and jump up and down because someone’s scored a phenomenal goal. Watching on the tv is probably better for seeing what’s going on, but I’d like to have been part of the crowd cheering on Bergkamp in the third goal here:

Postscript: To be honest, I’m not entirely sure it’s really winter in that clip, but it triggered the feeling, so what the hell.


3 Responses

  1. Damn I miss Highbury. I only went to 2 matches there, but I suppose that is pretty good for an American Gooner. But I miss watching matches from there on TV, where the pitch was completely boxed in by the fans, who were ridiculously close to the action. Emirates looks like an impersonal cavern in comparison on TV.

    This is probably augmented by the fact that I miss the iconic personnel of the Highbury teams 98-05: Adams, Bergkamp, Henry, etc., and especially for me personally, one Patrick Vieira.

    They could win 5 EPLs and 2 Champions Leagues in the new stadium with the next generation of kids, but I don’t think any team will ever capture me like Arsenal 98-05 did.

  2. Actually, I didn’t learn of the provenance of the Birmingham City’s ownership’s largesse ’til after I chose BC as my rooting interest… But it cemented my verdict. & the recent player/prosty orgy was, to borrow the much quoted on Deadspin Mark Cuban quote, “… fantastic”.

    I am digging my choice, then, rest assured. Now, to find a third crazy/beautiful sporting angle for myself. (Elijah Dukes on my rotisserie baseball squad (in fact, as a holdover from last year, when I had him on my taxi squad as one of my two “futures” draftees) was the first, Birmingham City rooting is the second.) I’m thinking I might just need to become a Buzzsaw fan (anathema, sure, since I’m from Milwaukee, so I should be, logically, a Packers fan… My Pack fandom, though, went into decline after the ’99 season (firing Rhodes, Chmura feeling rapey), & has not recovered since (though there was a slight uptick when I followed GB fairly well from Romania while in Peace Corps (since the Pack was a little bit of home accesible via internet))).

    But, yeah, enough about me. I should read your blog. Futbol (though sometimes, I call it futbal (the Romanian for it), USC (not an alum, but my brother is) — can’t go wrong.

  3. You’re more than welcome to return, Disco Stu. Anyone who’s willing to put in the effort to follow the Packers from Romania is precisely the kind of reader I want but don’t deserve.

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