Three Thousand Miles Away

At this point in my life I have never been blessed enough to live in a city with a true professional soccer team. I grew up in a city with fond memories of its soccer playing past, but with little hope of any soccer future. There were MLS teams in the region... but as a high schooler its hard enough to convince your parents to let you stay out past midnight, even harder to convince them to allow you and some friends to pack up and drive down to Dallas or up the Kansas City.

But, we did have Arena Football. And so soccer would be forgotten, lost in memory, while we watched guys smash each other into walls. Then, as if to remove myself further from soccer I moved to Hawaii. Where I have been, with a few trips back to the States, for the past three years.

I would come back to soccer slowly. The fact that Hawaii didn't have arena football after my freshmen year helped. Seeing the, then Dallas Burn, on TV in a match the announcers called dour, drab, and meaningless somehow enthralled me. Picking up FIFA05 got me a little more familar with various international players and teams and then buying a FourFourTwo at Borders one night gave me my first real glimpse into the real global and historical legacy that soccer has and pushed me that much closer to soccer fandom.

The LA Galaxy and DC United took care of the rest playing one of the only two games I have ever seen in person in Hawaii. The game probably wasn't that good. I hardly remember the actual game. But I remember the crowd, the oo's and aa's and the loud drums beating as if to my own heart. The was really the end of it. I have been bought and sold by the MLS and the wider would of soccer ever sense.

Sometimes I hate it. Sometimes I can't stand the other fans, the ignorant observers, or the know-it-alls, who are really know-nothings. Then their are the crashing disapointments after some games, the let downs you feel when players make mistakes.

Somehow, even though I fear soccer is driving me mad, I keep coming back.