Sunday, 22 March 2009

• Soccer/Football Hooligans

  My trip to Nevada Smith's--the soccer bar in NYC--was exhiliarating.  The sheer energy and crazed fandom frenzy engulfed me and my friends, and we were only too willing to give in to it.  It was a regular season game between the NY/NJ Red Bulls and the brand new Seattle Sounders, but all the cheering, chanting, singing, jumping, and drinking that led up to it seemed (to me) only "appropriate" for games with serious championship consequences.  So my night was colored with a slight wistful longing.  Why can't the American culture of sports fandom be this crazed and enthused for... say, baseball?  It was starkly clear that this energy for the game was directly inherited from the ex-pats that brought it here from across the pond.  You would never get Mets fans gathering like this, everyone wearing jerseys, singing and chanting and yelling at the tvs, all for a regular season game against an unknown team with no existing rivalries.  I wanted to bottle up the fervor so I could study it, tap it, and release it into all dull, quiet sports bars.

  The evening DID cross a threshold I didn't want to witness, however.  Two fights broke out that night:  one was too far from me to get a clear idea of what happened, but the other was way too near.  I was maybe two feet away from the monster of a guy doing the pounding--close enough to hear the impact of his fist on the victim's face--and I didn't know how to react.  I did the only thing I've been trained to do, which is to say... nothing.  I froze on the spot and stared in horror.  My stuttering brain did sigh, "Well, I'm close enough to get hit is all I'm sayin.." Finally someone had the sense to pull me back and then I came to my senses and cowered behind someone at the bar. 

  I learned several things from this experience.  1.  That is the closest to real-life violence I've ever come and I never want to get closer.  I've managed to avoid becoming desensitized to violence and graphic images through tv and movies, which I always thought was a good thing.. but if I've managed to suppress my whole animal instinct of fight-or-flight (and instead, did my own version of the two F's, freeze-and-fluster).. well, that's not good.   2.  I was totally impressed with the quick reaction from the people around me who clearly had experience with bar fights.  They immediately leapt on this guy (no kidding, he was a big guy - at least 300 pounds) and, although it took about 7 of them, grabbed hold and steered him out the door.  (as he passed, I got a good glimpse at his crazy eyes.  yikes)  3.  Chivalry still lives, and whether you think it's good or bad, it can still melt a girl's heart (and I'm not talking about my own on this occasion). 

  Anyway, baseball season is (finally--sigh) starting up soon.  I'm still on my quest to find a Mets bar with that much spirit.

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