More often than not we seldom don’t write about things which are dearest to us, something that is so close to our heart that we fear that may be we won’t do the justice it deserves. I don’t know about others but for me, football comes close to that. It is the only thing that makes me laugh, cry, be passionate about, be gregarious and be thankful to for it is something that I hold dearest in my life.
For so many feelings that is boxed together in one, after all, football is just another sport, but for me it is way more than the players who play the sport on the field. It’s the coaches, the manager, the analytics team behind game strategy, the club, the fans, the owners, the legacy, the legendary stories of comebacks, wins, fails, stories of not giving up, the anthems, the hymns, the songs, if only I can tell you how beautiful the world seems for those 90 minutes and the next 90 which I spend on researching on the game.
Over the years I have come to love Liverpool FC and I have had the privilege of interviewing the legends of LFC – Robbie Fowler and Samie Hyypia. Was I fangirling during the interview? Absolutely yes. Did I ask objective questions? Yes. Did I take their autograph like a crazy mad fan? ofcourse yes.
But in all these, there came a footballer at Liverpool FC, much infamous for biting his opponents, fighting with opponents every time his team started to lose or simply falling on the ground to try and get a penalty. Not many loved him but overtime he became the centerpiece of LFC’s forward attack, the striker that Steven Gerrard needed to compliment his skills. There I fell in love with Suarez, Luis Suarez. The Urguyan who came from Ajax.
Fearless, aggressive, he wore his heart on his sleeves, impeccable with his shots, and ofcourse never gave up until he tried and tried and scored. The kind of focus he had on the game made me love football even more passionately and also bring that focus to my work. I used to have his paper cut picture on my office desk at Mint and everyone would laugh at me, they still do. But then love after all is beyond logic. And those who love sports will know what their favourite sportsperson mean to them.
Though for me Gerrard is the ultimate dream legend whom I would love to see even if it is from a mile away, but Suarez stands second. So when I realized that Suarez might not be playing longer for FC Barcelona, I decided to break my savings, book a Champions League ticket and return fare from Mumbai to Spain.
With my sky-blue backpack and this figgity feeling inside me I told the immigration officer at Mumbai International Airport that I am going to watch a Champion’s League Match and he asked, “Really? Are you going alone?” and with a huge grin on my face, I told him, “Yes, Alone!” And there he sat behind the large glass window smiling at me and stamping my visa and telling me to have fun and be safe!
So finally I left for Madrid and then to Barcelona, a girl from Bombay took off to see one of her favorite footballer play at Camp Nou. Can you believe that feeling?
It was surreal, I never thought I will be there someday and here I was in Barcelona, waiting for metro at Diagonal station (pronounced Deeagonaal) waiting to go to Collblanc, the home of Barca.
Although the match was at 9 pm I couldn’t contain my excitement and after a grueling trek through the day I reached Collblanc at 6 pm. As the metro approached Collblanc metro hordes and hordes of people with Barca scarf and tshirts thronged the exit gate, the air was charged, people were singing, asking for directions, laughing, being crazy and happy to go to the mecca where many a legend has been created and revered.
There was a spring in my step and as I walked closer and closer to the stadium I couldn’t really control my tears of joy as I ran on top of the stairs the moment I saw my entry gate. And no, I wasn’t alone. People with friends, kids, partners, parents had gathered and queued up to go inside. People with season passes, people like me with ticket print outs, drums playing around, people jumping and singing songs, it was simply the euphoria of football as I had seen on television, sitting million miles away.
As we all made our way to the stadium, I quickly ran to find my seat and that first moment when you step in to that stadium you know it’s more, much more than what you ever thought. I had bought tickets for the second level, which ideally meant I could see everyone running near the goal post with my naked eye. Like that moment when Suarez got a penalty and Lionel Messi took the penalty and scored a goal, right in front of us. Funnily enough as the game progressed my attention moved from Suarez to Messi and how he ran every inch of that ground and snatched the ball and went to score. It was a sight to behold. I was even impressed with Philippe Coutinho, whom I have never liked much. And for some strange reasons I didn’t see the Suarez whom I had always seen on TV with his precision attack on the ball. May be it wasn’t his day, may be my expectations were too high, may be something was jarred but that evening was about the team which wiped off Lyon and the wonderful fans who made it one of the most beautiful experience of my life.
As the nearly full stadium roared after Barcelona’s win, we all queued again and left the doors, while I walked past the exit gate I looked back again, with a smile, promising to be back again, one more time. And then I was walking amongst the thousands of people, finding my way to the metro station as fans animatedly discussed and laughed about the game in Spanish, English, Hindi et all. Sports is not tied to a language, after all. And there we all stood cramped again in a metro train going back to our hostels and homes with smiles everywhere.
If someone ever asks, did you dare to dream and check your bucket list, my answer will be, aye. As they say, dream a little dream, give a long chase and then it might be yours one day.
Barefoot-Stories 