During soccer fever, I happened to be at work sitting next to two co-workers who were discussing the fact that soccer is like a religion, and die-hard fans will often go to great lengths to avenge their team. One co-worker cited, for example, instances where referees have been tracked down and murdered. The other person, she mentioned that she lives in a neighbourhood with a very large, soccer-crazy Portuguese population, and that during the last World Cup matches, someone was killed outside of a bar after a soccer-related dispute (I guess he didn't die-hard, hahaha ... don't worry, I already know I'm a horrible person).
When she said this, I gave a snort of derision, and seconds later the two of them had poked their heads over the top of my cubicle and were asking what I thought was so funny. I said that disputes over soccer, disputes that lead to death, are ridiculous. And it really is, I just can't take it seriously. I mean, I know that someone died. At the hands of another person. But ... over soccer. I can't wrap my head around it.
One co-worker, a man, said that it's not ridiculous at all. He explained that millions of people are very passionate about soccer, all over the world. I said, "That doesn't make it any less contemptible that people go around fighting to the death, and believe me sir, much contempt is what I have plenty of."
In real life, outside of this blog, I hardly ever speak my mind to anyone. Except for maybe S., my friend G., my brother, and my friend H. Occasionally my parents, if it happens to be a bit of my mind that I want to share with them. So in this situation, as I was talking to my co-worker, I was turning red and starting to shake a bit. I can argue; I can yell, debate, scoff at a poorly constructed rebuttal ... it just affects me very much in a physical way, because I am actually a very private person and not used to sharing my thoughts in such an unedited fashion, especially with co-working strangers.
He said that I can't possibly understand what I'm saying. He told me that soccer players are regarded as gods, and that leads people to become very passionate and start riots or commit murders. This just seemed to me that he was making things even more contemptible, and so I retorted, "Well, I'm passionate about books, but I don't go setting cars on fire and rioting, or popping caps in peoples asses when I don't like a plot twist. Passion is not an excuse for anything. Except maybe in France." ( Okay, so imagine that with some stutters and what-not ) He started to say something about, well, I don't know ... I wasn't really paying attention at this point because it was soccer related, and I can't be expected to pay attention for that long. I cut him off and said, "And don't even get me started on religion!" With that, I snapped my headset back on and I haven't said a word about it since. The two co-workers (well, the man really ... there was a woman but she didn't say much) haven't brought it up since, probably because they know I'm right, and probably because soccer is now finished. Hoorah!
I realize the irony in the fact that I don't care much for soccer, yet I have devoted two blog entries to discussing it. If I were a homophobe discussing how much I hate gay people, then that would definitely point to my having, perhaps, some latent homosexuality. However, it is not so much the case with soccer, and dislike of sports in general. If you hate it, you hate it.
Also, speaking of it -- I don't have any latent homosexuality. I am completely bisexual, and fully acknowledge and realize (on a regular basis, with S. as my partner in crime) that I love to eat pussy.
No, I don't mean going to the sketchy Chinese food place down the street to get a fix for my cat meat craving.
I mean vaginas.
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