Turns Out I'm a Soccer Nut

My road to self-discovery continues here. Sometimes I wake up and walk down the street and meet with people and realize that I am not, in fact, the same person who got here a few months ago. And the reasons for this realization differ daily. Sometimes I see myself dressing differently, or talking differently, or even learning to rationalize and see the world in a different way. Sometimes the discoveries are of a profound nature. And sometimes they're not. Sometimes they're just about discovering something new, or learning that I like something I didn't know I liked. Or about letting a different side of my personality come out a little bit. This week, these last weeks, I've discovered that my presumption that I was not, and would never be, a sports fan were quite wrong. I just hadn't discovered the right sport.

Soccer is the national pastime here. Futbol, actually it's called. Not football, or baseball, or basketball (although that one is popular as well), but good old futbol. Everyone's got a team they cheer for, even if they have no idea what color the uniforms are and have never seen a game. It's a tradition, to support a team. Usually it's family based. "My father/mother/brother/grandfather/best friend from childhood loved this team and so now so do I," for example. I've always been a fan of River Plate, one of the two biggest teams in the country. Couldn't tell you how that started for my life. Can't remember soccer ever being a big deal in my house. And yet I can't remember ever not being a River girl. It never meant much to me. It was the same as saying that I liked irises, or strawberry jello. Namely, it didn't make much difference in my life. Until now. Since I got here I've been watching the games on TV. Casually at first, and now loyally every sunday afternoon. I've discovered some closet soccer fans amongst my family and friends, who are now taking advantage of the fact that someone else said it first, and letting their love for soccer come out. Last weekend I went to a game with my uncle and my cousin. It was not a River Plate game sadly, (seeing as how they are die-hard fans of Racing), but a game live and in person nonetheless.

The feel of a game is indescribable. The energy in the stadium is unlike anything I've ever experienced. There are people young and old, rich and poor, male and female, all made equal in the moment a goal is scored by the profanities, expletives, and general shouts they emit. There's excitement, and emotional involvement, as though for those 90 minutes the players are on the field, there is nothing more important than what will happen next. And I'm hooked.

Here's a general view of the field before the game began.

Here's my cousin Lucas and I during half-time, freezing our butts off.

So maybe every day can't hold a deep, philosophical realization about the true nature of my being. But these little discoveries about who I am and what makes me happy are just as important. We can't spend every day with the expectation that pearls of wisdom will fall in our laps, and that the key to enlightenment will present itself on a twice weekly basis. And, at the end of the day, maybe it's mostly these little things that we can draw happiness from.