LeBron James was going to sign with the Clippers. I was sure of it. Living in a city that prided itself on its basketball knowledge, I could not have been happier to defend my foolhardy (and completely non-researched) claim. I filled the microbreweries with my pomp and unbridled opinion, joyfully educating any local who dared to question my theory. Well-versed in the art of bullshit, I welcomed all challengers to my claim, eventually even digging up some token statistics that seemed to weigh in my favor.
My delight in this process came not only from the pleasure of getting lost in conversation, but also the more elementary fact that I had no idea what the hell I was talking about. I hadn’t spent hours watching Mike Dunleavy destroy the Clippers piece by piece to facilitate LeBron’s signing with the team. Like Vitale and Twain, I rarely confined my basketball-related opinions to the facts, so there was no pride of knowledge to defend. Many of these Bill Simmons inspired barroom debates revolve around the participants proving their knowledge by spouting every Chris Broussard tweet that crosses their mind. Because I was drawing from a smaller knowledge base, I could have fun getting creative with my answers, doing everything I could to make my antagonists believe I wasn’t completely misinformed when it comes to the topic of choice. Really, the topic can be anything from basketball to music to North Korean foreign policy. Rarely will I punt on a conversation just because I know nothing about it.
That is, except the one topic that I know the most about.
I have a very odd reaction when soccer comes up in casual conversation. Primarily, I keep my mouth shut, indicating awareness only by nodding or chuckling at jokes (attempted or successful, doesn’t matter). If someone asks me directly for my thoughts, I respond in vanilla fashion. Maybe it will be the surface level of something I actually believe, but then again, maybe not. Maybe it will just be something to keep the conversation moving. I’m not sure that I’m particularly embarrassed by what I know about the game. It’s more that I suffer from a very specific fear, one that I’d guess a lot of longtime American soccer fans are getting to know as the game grows more popular here. I’m afraid that if I come on too strong, people won’t want to talk to me about soccer anymore.
There are instances when I do bubble over, but only when provoked. Granted, these provocations are often not directed at me at all—but I’m only one man, and there are boundaries. The latest of these incidents occurred over a normally mundane Saturday breakfast. The unknowing culprits: two men, sitting in a booth behind me. I had not even noticed them until they began to chat about their clubs’ (Arsenal and Chelsea, respectively) potential January signings. I cannot help but overhear, and smile at their enthusiasm. The two go through all the names the Daily Mail has offered, until suddenly Chelsea mentions Miloš Krasić.
As a Juventus fan, my mind instantly leaves my orange juice for dead, and I focus unequivocally on their conversation. I’m looking at my omelet, but I’m also looking through the back of my skull, watching for their next move. At the same time, my mind begins to race: “Is Krasić going to be sold? Already? Surely not. But Abromovich doesn’t play by the rules. What about Man City?! Azwersxetdcyutfgvbinhjompk.” While all that’s going on, Arsenal, completely blind to the fact that I’m even in the same universe, pops back with: “Krasić? No way. He’s garbage. His dribbling is okay, but he sucks otherwise.”
And that’s when I scoff. Audibly. A piece of sausage lodges in my throat, but my effort to turn the scoff into a cough, a sneeze, anything, are beyond futile. My cover is blown. I turn slowly to face my assailants, imagining one of those scenes in every action movie where the heroes go to the hidden gun room and start stocking up on BFGs. But when I open my mouth, I can only muster up a feeble “no.” Arsenal and Chelsea stare at me, unsatisfied. I continue, stammering out, “No, no he’s good, trust me.” Trust me? Really? This is going terribly. Not only am I incoherent in both volume and content, I’m doing Krasić himself a disservice by failing to make these two knuckleheads understand the greatness he possesses. I wrap it up as quickly as possible with a note that I’m a Juventus fan, so I’m biased. And that was that.
In retrospect, I’m not sure what other options I had. I’m not sure how well they would have reacted had I spilled over with:
“Well, actually, while Krasić’s skill-set does limit him to an outside wing position, his attributes align perfectly with Del Neri’s 4-4-2 system. When coupled with a right back that has little attacking interest, he doesn’t have to worry about his defensive work load, and thus can focus on beating players on the dribble, putting dangerous balls in the box, and making efforts on goal himself. Fans of the English game should know this as well as anyone, as he has already single-handedly toppled one of the pillars of your national footballing consciousness.”
A bit stronger than what it would have been, maybe, but the point remains the same. You can’t, in the art of conversation, just blind-side someone and expect things to go on swimmingly. So what do you do, if you’re passionate? Restrain yourself, and hope that the conversation goes away. And yet, you don’t want it to go away, because it’s the thing you know best. Funny how that works.
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And really, what better sign of obsession is there than worrying about the effect your passion will have on the health of a conversation? As if once the conversation disintegrates, so does all hope for your passion’s success in the future.
Read More: American Notes
by Andy Streets · January 4, 2011
How can someone this intelligent and perceptive support Juventus?
It’s funny, a curious thing almost, how the more I read what is put forth on this site the more it speaks to my experience as an American soccer fan. Well done, Sean.
I avoid football conversation with everyone except for close friends for this exact reason!
This experience is universal, it applies to many other fields in addition to sports. The more you know about a topic, the smaller your cohort of like minded individuals. One of the best things about the internet is how it can connect you to more people who share your passion.
Reminds me of an early Simpsons episode:
http://flowingdata.com/2008/06/20/lisa-simpson-on-happiness-vs-intelligence/
“See? I made a graph. I make lots of graphs.” – Lisa.
@Nick
Point well taken sir. Still, I think the social stigma, if you will, attached to soccer fans in this country creates a rather unique situation wouldn’t you agree?
Part of the issues her though also seems to be that the author is not interested in having a conversation as much as giving a lecture. The two fans in the piece seem to be well informed about English football but just don’t know tons about Italian football or this particular player. That doesn’t mean they can’t be engaged in meaningful conversation. If these guys were anticipating the opening of the transfer window they probably follow the game, the English game at least, pretty closely. It seems to me that the author could have met them on common ground such as the usefulness of the transfer window, whether Abromovich is willing to spend significantly, how Krasić could fit into a scheme with Cole and Bosingwa who get forward so much from the back or the problematic nature of the press fabricating links between players and clubs. Instead, he pinpointed a difference and then writes an article designed to convince the reader that he is an all-knowing football sage that has to tolerate the uninitiated while grappling with an overwhelming internal struggle. Needlessly self-aggrandizing piece that makes knowledgeable American fans look like socially awkward jackasses.
Well done Sean. I suppose the killer monologues only happen in Good Will Hunting. Krasić anyway is the reincarnation of Nedvěd and thus doomed to retire as a Bianconero… And about passion and restraint, in a world led by remote controls and alt+tabs, I grew admiring of people who can share their passion with excitement. Possibly never have I been bored to death or willing to avoid a subject ever again with anyone in these situations. And my dad has a passion for fishing…
this is some george costanza type trip.
I enjoyed this article because it sums up how I feel when soccer comes up in conversations when at a party or with friends. I tend to not say much even though I grew up playing, following, and learning the game.
In addition, a couple of weeks ago, I played FIFA 11 with my best friend who’s not a soccer fan and I let the game be close. I won only 3-1 missing tons of other chances on purpose just so that he wouldn’t feel too bad about sucking at playing a soccer game. Weird thing is that it worked. He now keeps playing the game just so that he can beat me soon. We played a couple of days ago and he was a little better but still I had to let him keep the game close. hahaha.
+1 on ursus’ comment. Additionally, this is a hilarious and enjoyable piece of writing. All fandom is like this, though: did you ever go through that adolescent phase in which you kind of wanted to tell everyone who’d ever watched an LotR film about the entire backstory of the Silmarillion? …not that I ever did.
Love it Sean, love it.
My father once told me (when he was having an hilarious argument with my mother): “Never argue with an idiot. They’ll bring you down to their level and beat you with their experience.”
Restraint seems like a fairly good course of action in situations like the one above.
Funniest (yet true) article abt football i have read in a long time!! Usually the funniest are always from 1 guy Tim Stannard, you guys should check him out. He’s brilliant.
For what it’s worth, BOTH of my brothers thought he was going to the Clippers as well.
I’ve also found the want to restrain myself when it comes to soccer – all sports, really – when talking to my current roommate. He’s never played soccer competitively, and has never bothered to really learn much about the game or strategy, yet still decides he has to know more than I do. Getting into a conversation or debate with him is useless, because he either doesn’t know who or what I am talking about, or will instead insult what I’m saying instead of making his own points. Worse yet, he doesn’t have a ‘favorite team’, like I do in Man U (really only Rooney, but I’m not sure that’s allowed?), so he decides he can make fun of mine all the time while not actually having an allegiance of his own.
Great stuff Sean – I’m pretty sure all American soccer fans felt this when the US lost the Gold Cup final 5-0 to Mexico and every Joe schmoe screamed for the coach’s head.