Saturday: Cesc Fabregas scores his first league goal in 11 monthsAfter a nightmarish spell, including the first loss at Emirates (to West Ham, no less) and a draw with an Owen-less Newcastle, Arsenal dominated Bolton on Saturday. It’s about bloody time. And it was my boy, Fabregas, who scored the winning goal.
I’d been contemplating the power of the Robin curse. Ever since I met Fabregas on March 15th, Arsenal’s record spoke volumes: a loss to Everton the following Sunday, the Saturday slaughter delivered by Peter Crouch at Anfield, and the humiliating defeat at home in front of a 60K+ crowd to lowly West Ham. Since I met Federer, the Super Human Swiss has fallen twice to the same guy, following a record-breaking winning streak.
On a separate note, I meant to share what happened the previous weekend to illustrate the power and limitation of perseverance. I went over to a friend’s flat to watch the Arsenal – West Ham game, only to discover that Fox Soccer chose to air Liverpool – Reading instead. So we walked to the East Village and caught the rest of the disappointing match at the pub. As we waited around for the Manchester United – Portsmouth game to start, a guy sitting at the bar grabbed my arm to get my attention. He spoke with an unfamiliar accent.
- “I’ve been out of the country for months, and now that I return there are so many pretty girls who are into soccer. It’s great. What has happened?”
- [shrugging] “Probably the World Cup.”
- “So which is your team?” [pointing to the telly]
- “Neither. I support Arsenal, so I’m not in a good mood.”
- “Really? That’s my team, too.”
- “Right, fantastic.”
I turned away and said something to my friend. She had to leave for a hair appointment. I continued to watch the game. I stood there with my arms crossed, sporting sweats, glasses, and greasy hair. Five minutes later I felt a hand on my shoulder. Thinking it was someone just passing through the crowded bar, I ignored it. But the hand stayed. It belonged to the guy from earlier.
- “So tell me why you like Arsenal.”
- “Too long of a story. Why do you like them?”
- [authentic French pronunciation] “Thierry Henry. My family lives in France.”
- “Yeah? He’s an amazing player.”
We chatted about the team, the rumors, the injuries, and the disappointments from this season. I explained how I thought football differed from other sports in terms of its global impact on social, political, and economic fronts. He put his arm around me. I pried his fingers off my shoulder and removed his hand.
- “Don’t do that. I like my personal space.”
- “Okay, I just like talking to you. Do you want me to go away?”
- “You’re welcome to stand there, just don’t touch me. I’m just here to watch the game. I’m not here to meet people, believe it or not.”
- [glancing around the room] “I’m not here to meet people either. This is a bad place to meet people.”
- “I most certainly agree. So let’s just watch the game.”
The silence lasted for a mere minute. Then he started up again.
- “Why are you taller than me?”
- [pause] “Why is the sky blue?”
- “How tall are you?”
- “Five-eight and a half.”
- “I’m five-nine. You have wonderful lips.”
- “Uh, thanks.”
- “So what is your background?”
- “I’m of Japanese descent.”
- “I spent some time in Japan. Do you speak Japanese?”
- “No. Do you?”
- “Just a little.”
- “Okay, ask me ‘What color is your car?’”
- [long pause] “I don’t know. Ask me something easier.”
- “Guess what? I’m trying to watch this game.”
- [after one minute] “Namae wa…?”
- “Robin.”
- “Watashi no namae wa Thomas desu.”
- “Brilliant.”
- “See, I knew you had to know at least a little bit.”
- “Yeah, you got me. So do you play?”
- “Every chance I get.”
- “Where? Local leagues?”
- “Yes.”
- “Which ones?”
- “You wouldn’t know them.”
- “I know a lot more than you think. Pier 40? Chelsea? Chinatown?”
- “Pier 40.”
- [cheering after a Man. U. blunder]
- “You’re really into this, aren’t you?”
- “Yes.”
- “So what’s your ideal guy?”
- “That’s a generic question that yields meaningless answers.”
- “Why not? I can tell you what I like. I like someone who is open-minded. Someone who smiles and laughs a lot, like you. Someone smart and vivacious.”
- “Yeah, all of that amounts to nothing in real terms.”
- “Come on, girls are so picky about these things. You must have some idea.”
- “All right: José Mourinho.”
Throughout this entire exchange I had my arms crossed and remained fixated on the television monitor. Then, Thomas leaned over as if to whisper something and kissed me on the cheek instead. A few sober bystanders took interest. Shocked, I stepped away.
- “Have you ever seen a guy get punched by a girl in a bar before?”
- “No.”
- “Well, you’re about to find out firsthand what that’s like if you don’t cut it out.”
- “Okay, I don’t want to find that out. I mainly did it because it was unexpected. I like talking to you.”
- “That may be true, but you’re going to have to keep to yourself. I just want to watch the game.”
- “Why are you so interested in this game?”
- “Because, I want to see Man U. lose. If you’re bored by this game, why are you still here?”
- [chants for Ronaldo can be heard from the other side of the bar] “I think Ronaldo’s a great player; I can respect him for that. But he dives too much.”
- “I can’t stand him.”
Then it was half time, and I contemplated a quick exit. He had different ideas.
- “I feel like I’m not getting my point across. It’s too noisy here. Do you mind if we talk back there?”
- “Why?”
- “It’s really noisy, and I’m tired of shouting. Do you even remember my name?”
- “Thomas.”
- “Okay, you have a good memory.”
- “If you want to talk about football, that’s fine. But let’s keep it to that.”
- “Why? I’d really like to see you again.”
- [laughs incredulously] “Look, I’m flattered. But you’re wasting your time. You said there are plenty of pretty girls here. You should start working on somebody else because this is a dead end. I haven’t showered in two days. I’m sure there are many girls here who have bathed in the past twelve hours.” [starts glancing around the room for prospects]
- [laughs] “I don’t care about that.”
- “This is pointless. I’m very busy, and I don’t have time for much else. All I care about these days is football and food.”
- “Me too.”
- “The game’s coming back on and I want to enjoy this. I won’t be offended if you wander off and find someone else to chat up.”
He stayed put, though, watching the game without interest. The match heated up; Ferdinand’s own goal had me jumping for joy. When the match ended, I tried to give Thomas a high-five, saying, “Have a great Saturday.” He left me hanging.
I headed for the door. He followed. We continued the awkward conversation outside.
- “Nice to meet you, Thomas. I’m heading home.”
- “I’m hungry now. Let’s get something to eat.”
- “I can’t. I am going to the gym. I also have stuff to sell on eBay. Then a friend from high school is in town and I’m going to dinner.”
- [frowns] “What’s thirty minutes?”
- “I already overstayed my visit here. I didn’t mean to watch the Man. U. game.”
I started walking south towards the LES. He followed.
- “Well, as a woman, you have the right to decide where things go.”
- [incredulously] “Your persistence is both admirable and unbelievable. What more do I need to tell you? I am not in the mood for anything like this. I just haven’t got the time nor the desire. I read books; I eat good food; I watch football. That is all. I don’t even want a fling.”
- “You think that’s what I want?”
- [laughs] “How old are you, anyway?”
- “I’m not as young as you think.”
- “Yeah, right. I think you’re much younger than me.”
- “I’m 26.”
- “Oh, okay.”
- “Do I seem immature?”
- “No, you just look young. Ah well, it doesn’t really matter.” [looking around at the sky and the neighborhood.] “Oh! I’ve always wanted to check out this Ukrainian bar. I read about it in one of my football books. There’s some kind of neighborhood society that gets together and talks about football in the Ukraine.”
- “Let’s check it out.”
We walked into the restaurant, but discovered that the bar would not open until 5 PM. I smiled.
- “New York is so great like that. There’s a bit of every culture here, it seems.”
- “Yes, you won’t find this anywhere else. I went to Germany for the World Cup last year, and I’ve traveled all over. And every time I leave, I find myself missing New York after a few weeks.”
- “Well, it’s a yearning I look forward to feeling.”
We reached a street corner and I decided it was time to part ways.
- “So, which train are you taking?”
- “I don’t know. Are you sure you don’t want to get a bite to eat?”
- “Yes, I’ve got lots of things to do.”
- “It’s up to you. I’d like to see you again.”
- “Well, maybe I’ll see you at another match some time in the future.”
- “Okay.”
He looked crestfallen, but what was I to do? We shook hands and walked in opposite directions.
Labels: Arsenal, football
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