A fan, or fanatic, sometimes also called aficionado or supporter, is a person who is enthusiastically devoted to something or somebody, such as a band, a sports team, a genre, a book, a movie or an entertainer. Collectively, the fans of a particular object or person constitute its fan-base or fandom
Something about them attracted me. I had watched enough on television to consume the content. I wondered why this game did not exist this way in India. I loved the attitude, the crowds, the songs, the passion, and the smell of a revolution. There was an established order and it felt like a change was overdue. The order smelt of a moisture stained wooden wall. Maybe, a creaking staircase and a cobweb filled attic as well.The order needed a major revamping and a jolt to shake up those lying in slumber.
It is easy to become a fan of a challenger. I think it is natural to support anyone or anything challenging the establishment. There is this tag of an ‘underdog’ attached to a team that basically has enough firepower to beat anyone but does not have the necessary history or culture to be considered as rightfully belonging to the top. That is why, it is easy to side with the challenger. Imagine trying to love someone, who mercilessly swats those lesser beings who are not as powerful while smirking at the low quality of opposition. I wanted to kill off the established order; the supposed culture and history. A clean new slate on which the entire present landscape was waiting to be established and idiots were talking about things that happened twenty years ago.
The more, you are at the top, the more disillusioned one gets with the idea of carrying on the challenger tag. It is like a thirty-year old who gets way drunk every time and ends up embarrassing his mates. So you move on from the first ‘under-dog’ syndrome to identifying someone whose performance or character resonates with what you believe in. We identify with them and we think their success is our success. Their pain is our anguish. If our ‘hero’ fails, so does our life temporarily. We are so self-less in this hand over of our lives to this idea; character; person or team.
principles concerning the distinction between right and wrong or good and bad behaviour
When I replay my conversations with countless people and the supposed importance of moral code in our lives, and then replay my decision of handing over of myself to support a football club run by a oligarch, a club whose biggest success in history was created by a man, who basically showed my club’s doctor, her place in the dressing room and led by our charismatic captain who never fails to disappoint me in his endeavours.
If only losing my self and my moral code was compensated by some willingness to put an effort on the pitch. If I could watch one game, where I do not have to hide my face, wondering how this bunch of players won something last year and not feel relieved at somehow drawing level with an opponent, I would feel that the exchange was fair.If I could watch my team challenge the elite, without calling themselves under-dogs, without whining about everything, without acting like primary school-kids watching their first horror movie when they face Barcelona, I would feel, I have sacrificed well.
Till then, I am ashamed to call myself a fan. I refuse to buy into this mediocrity. I refuse to be proud of you unless you make me proud of myself for supporting you. And Chelsea, my beautiful blue football club, you are so far away from all of it right now.