Bramall Lane

One short month after choosing the English football ("soccer") team to which I will devote my life, I had the incredible fortune of watching them play live last Wednesday night. While this event probably did not quite hold the same gravitas as it might for one who has idolized the Gunners for a lifetime (that's usually how these things work), it was nonetheless pretty dang sweet.

Ok, so here's how getting a ticket for an Arsenal match works. Three options.

1. First, you hope that you win the genetic lottery and are born into a family that owns season tickets. Then you merely fork over a giant hunk of cash each season for the honor of a seat at Emirates Stadium.
2. Assuming you are not quite as lucky, you join one of a number of groups supporting the team. I'm still trying to figure out how this part works, but I think that you pay for the distinction, and with it comes the opportunity to purchase a set number of tickets. Needless to say, tens if not hundreds of thousands of people fall into this group, but there are tickets for each game that will be supplied to these fans. Not all of them of course -- no, you must win a lottery for the privilege of buying a nosebleed ticket for 66 pounds.
3. You pretend to be a supporter of a really bad team with apathetic fans that just so happens to be playing Arsenal, buy "home" tickets and travel to the game. You must not, however, show your true allegiance to Arsenal, or the apathetic home fans might suddenly become more interested...in beating you up.

Needless to say, I chose option 3. The sacrificial lamb took the form of the Sheffield United football club, and I took the train 2.5 hours north, met up with my sister who had purchased 14 pound 7th-row tickets, and took my place as an imposter Blades fan. It was a 4th round Carling Cup match, which fell somewhere between clipping fingernails and polishing shoes on Arsenal's list of priorities. This meant that the real stars, the Cesc Fabregas and Emanuel Adebayors of the team, wouldn't be playing.

Anyway, turns out these so-called football players are pretty impressive. It's one thing to see a match on tv, with the ball moving slowly around the field, and quite another to see it in person. Yes, they can run fast and jump high, but I was most impressed by their ball handling skills. As somewhere barely able to reach the outfield in a game of kickball, I was amazed at their ability to fire a pass 30 yards across the field and control the ball immediately. Very impressive -- inspired me to try and play a little if I can find the chance.

I was sitting next to an old man who lectured his grandson(?) the entire time about how terrible Sheffied United was. He was pretty unforgiving considering his team was hugely overmatched, playing quite possibly the best club team in the world. Arsenal ended up winning comfortably, 3-0 ("three-nil" in these parts).

The highlight occurred about 8 minutes into the game, as Arsenal was in control of the ball and moving it downfield. Eduardo de Silva, a promising young Brazilian, got possession and rocketed a swerving shot to the top left corner of the goal, beating the goalie. Being 10 meters from the goal, I could hear the perfect swish of the ball hitting the back of the net before the cheers of my fellow Arsenal fans across the stadium. You won't get that paying 66 pounds at Emirates Stadium. Check it out.