"I fell in love with football as I was later to fall in love with women: suddenly, inexplicably, uncritically..." Nick Hornby, Fever Pitch
For me, the defining moment might've been that day when Persib passed the street near my school on parade after winning the first ever Liga Indonesia. Or maybe it was the time I watched in awe as Brazil trashed Italy in that penalty shoot-outs that guaranteed their fourth World Cup title. Or during that time I saw Steve McManaman dribble his way through the defending team's right flank in a Euro '96 live coverage. All I know is that somewhere along the way, I deeply fell in love with football.
In rare moments of contemplation, I wondered to myself why I enjoy football very much. Does it have something to do with availability and constant exposure to the game? I don't think so, really. Just look at my younger brother. He's not the least interested in football even though he avidly watched Captain Tsubasa when he was a kid and played regularly at school. Not to mention that he has a Manchester United maniac of a sister. When you don't get it you just don't, regardless of the "availability and constant exposure". Therefore, when a friend asked me--quite innocently--what it was that I found so irresistibly interesting about watching twenty-two people chase one dirty ball around the field, I responded with a smart "Dunno." Because I truly don't know.
My inability to eloquently express the beauty of football, I suspect, is inextricably linked with the fact that I am not what you'd call an “analytical spectator”. Some people enjoy football in logical, detached way. They'd make a song and dance about the philosophical, sociological, and psychological importance of football, peruse all sorts of tactical setup, and they'd be upset when football teams replace perfection with pragmatism.
Well, I'm not them. I'd be elated when my team win and upset--at times angry--when they lost. I'd question the manager's strategy or blame a particular player (Sorry, Fletch!) when they had a draw against the supposedly inferior team. It's that simple. My devotion to a football team comes from irrational love, not critical thinking. I love football like I love . . . noodle, say. Noodle is tasty. What's so tasty about noodle? How the heck can I explain that? I'm not a connoisseur. You just have to try it for yourself, and if you don't like it, it's simply not the food for you. The same goes for football.
Football, computer games, traveling, collecting stamps, or whatever--we all have our very own little obsession. I prefer enjoying it than trying to rationalize it, period.
