Why I Love This Game

Every once in a while we are all privileged enough to witness an event that completely validates our passion for something. For me this happened on Wednesday afternoon during the much anticipated “Battle of Britain” match between Celtic FC and Manchester United.

At school I share a house with seven other men, that afternoon three of us were crowded around our television in the living room watching the spectacle play out. One of us, my roommate Taylor, is a die hard Celtic supporter. I am a great supporter of the game, but had no real attachment to this particular match other than hoping to see the Red Devils lose. Our third was a housemate named Phil who came in to do homework, but was soon as enthralled in the action on the pitch as my roommate and I were.

After a first half produced a few fleeting chances but nothing of merit it seemed that we had spent a good chunk of our afternoon as we usually did, wasting time. Things picked up when ESPN played a highlight video of the competition through match day four. Saves, skills, and goals were all on display and pulled us into the second half. And what a half of play it was. Right from the kick off you could feel that something was different, possibly because of the addition Jiri Jarosik to the Celtic front line.

Whatever the cause of the spark all three of us were amplified many times the volume at which we viewed the first half. Every call was vocally disputed. Every errant shot was greeted with a sigh, either of relieve or disappointment. Wayne Rooney’s volley off of a United corner kick had all of our heart’s racing. I had just looked up after hearing my friend’s pained yelps and saw the ball hit the back of the net. For a moment everything halted, and then I realized that it had been off target.

When Jarosik went down in the 80^th minute Taylor and myself hollered for a card, from the angle shown by ESPN the Manchester player had slid in from behind and walloped the Czech in the leg. After the replay we both sat down and shut up because there had been no contact whatsoever. Lining up to take the kick were Kenny Miller, who had just come off the bench, and Shunsuke Nakamura. Taylor asked who I would have take it and I told him Nakamura with his left foot into the net. Of course he couldn’t agree so he picked Miller with a right foot for the goal. Somewhere in the back of my head I must have remembered the free kick from a similar spot that Nakamura had bagged in the game at Old Trafford on match day one, but I didn’t fully recall until I searched for a replay later.

Well sure enough my prediction came true and Celtic was now up by a goal in the dying minutes against a very strong Manchester United team. They took off two defenders and brought on defensive mids which made us all very nervous. For the final ten minutes United threw everything they had forward trying to get the equalizer that would have them through into the knockout stages. Louis Saha had a chance on which everyone but the linesman felt that he was offsides. Saha himself didn’t believe it so he halted for just long enough so that Boruc (the Celtic goalie) could run out and make the save.

In the 88^th minute John O’Shea (I think) toe picked himself into a foul and a chance for United to pull level off of the set piece. Rooney took it and looked to fire it off of the wall, but then the referees whistle blew and the house went deathly quiet. We were all scared to breathe for fear that someone would be sent off, or worse that the Red Devils would be given a penalty.

And we were right to be afraid, yellow card for handling the ball in the box (which I still dispute, but Taylor feels was unfortunately justified) and a penalty for Manchester. And I thought things were quiet in the house before Saha lined up to take the spot kick. Three of us, one of whom didn’t care a lick about the game when he walked in, on the edge of our seats waiting, hoping, praying for Boruc to find a miracle. And he did. And the three of us made more noise than I had ever heard in our house before. Louder than any party ever held there in any of the three years that it has been open to students. We went nuts for a moment and then were near heart attack every time a ball played by United crossed the face of goal.

The final whistle brought relief, but also a realization for me. This is why I love this game. This is why the game is so universal. Three of us with varying investments on the outcome of the match were all taken on an emotional roller coaster that bests even the most touching of Hollywood epics. No film can recreate the drama of real life sporting events. And not all sports either; I only think that soccer and hockey, by virtue of the scoring system and free flowing play, can capture that last gasp atmosphere where every shot is a potential heartbreaker. But hockey doesn’t have the passion that Celtic Park had that day. Not even in the Stanley Cup finals can that feeling be replicated, and I only saw it via television thousands of miles away.

Finally thank you to ESPN for keeping the feed on the crowd until after they were done singing “You’ll Never Walk Alone”. I love this game!