I’m football illiterate. If you’re going to judge me, judge me now. Don’t worry — I won’t be annoying and say that the only thing I know about football is how sarong-and-nail polish-wearing David Beckham’s abs ripple. He’s a touch too metrosexual for my taste.
Yet, I found myself in Cape Town, South Africa in 2010, smack in the middle of football fever. (I still can’t get ‘Waka Waka’ out of my head!) And in Barcelona the next year, where the streets were rippling with Barca flags soon after they won the UEFA Champions League. I’ll be honest and confess that I was at a salsa club that night, and only realised when I saw the bars explode with squeals, cheers and whistles. However, I not only went to Camp Nou the next day, but even joined the ‘fan walk’ accompanied by squealing vuvuzelas and a pet duck in a Barca scarf. (I kid you not.)
Earlier this year, on a holiday in Rome, I couldn’t turn a street corner without seeing blown-up images of good-looking Italian footballers in mismatched cleats. A new chapter in sports fashion, apparently. They were accompanied by scintillating ad copy that read, “The right boot is pink, the left boot is blue.” Now, if that doesn’t inspire you to lace up your shoes and run to the playground, what will?
So there’s my football background in 200 words. Yet, I found myself at the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium twice this Indian Super League season, and I loved it. As it turns out, there are advantages to being a reluctant football fan. You notice a legion of other details, both on the field and off.
Like the evergreen Mexican Wave, which began awry and then went crazy, lasting almost 10 minutes at Tuesday’s Chennaiyin FC Vs Kerala Blasters match. The good-natured rivalry between Chennai and Kerala supporters in the stadium culminated in a young man standing on his chair holding up a hastily made sign that read “I only love Kerala girls, not the team.” The Chennai fans yelling ‘CSK’ accompanied by drums began a rhythm that everyone picked up, including the vendors who hopped to the beat between selling their flat sodas and soggy sandwiches.
The highlights? Well, Kerala’s Stephen Pearson took off his T-shirt to celebrate his winning goal at the 117th minute. Predictably enough, Abhishek Bachchan did an Abhishek Bachchan, prancing around the stadium in a chequered lungi .
And the very hunky Elano Blumer graciously walked around, thanking the crowds for their support, after the defeat. (In brilliantly mismatched cleats, I must point out.)
However, what charmed me were the un-choreographed, unreported moments. Nita Ambani crouched behind a weepy Bernard Mendy after the match, helping him up and off the field. The friendly crowd of thousands, who gently and politely filtered in and out of the stadium, aided by chatty and unfailingly polite volunteers, despite electric excitement levels.
And our conclusion: We were stranded in the jam-packed, fan-choked chaos outside the stadium, with no transport in sight, when a stranger in the bright yellow Kerala T-shirt offered us a lift home in his cab. This, despite the fact that he was a die-hard Kerala supporter, and we were all in Chennaiyin FC blues. And he didn’t even gloat.
