Champions League

This Wednesday was the UEFA Champions League final in Moscow between world soccer’s two best teams: Manchester United and Chelsea. As far as I know there is no sporting league in the world the champion’s league. A collection of the worlds best soccer leagues send their best team or teams to the champions league where they compete for the ultimate title of best soccer club in the world. Being in Europe for this event is a dream… the celebration for the faithful of the two competing teams is the secular equivalent of Christmas or Easter. My first exposure to the event came when I went to the Parc des Princes to watch the semi-final between PSG and Juventus. Dad had managed to get company seats with a die hard Indian soccer fan friend named Shrinee. I can’t remember if Juventus won 5-0 or 6-0 . In either event, it was the most lopsided professional soccer game I have ever seen. The PSG fans were irate; I learned more new French curses that day than I had previously learned in a year or two in France. Not being much of a PSG loyalist myself, I loved the atmosphere and the game. A few years later, I think it was the 1999 final, Manchester United was playing Bayern Munich. My closest friend at the time was a German named Andreas. Andreas lived for Bayern Munich; he kept me apprised of the precise details of all the qualifying matches. He invited me over to watch the final with him. I remember being amazed how much Andreas was into the game; every call, pass, and shot elicited huge reactions. When I tried to make any side conversation I was either ignored or shushed. It turned out to be an epic game, the teams were very closely matched and seemed to be at a deadlock when Bayern won a free kick at the edge of the area early in the second half. Mario Bastler stood over the ball, ran at it, and then curled it around the wall and just beyond the goalie’s outstretched finger tips into the net. Andreas launched into an ecstatic celebration that involved a lot of shouting and jumping across couches. This subsided after a few minutes, but every now and then for the next half hour, Andreas would pump his fist, and mutter a celebratory “yes!” Bayern held on for the rest of the ninety minutes and into injury time. Suddenly and shockingly, Man U scored on a counter attack to tie the game with less than two minutes to be played. One minute later Manchester scored again. I was amazed; I had never seen two goals scored in such quick succession, especially on such a stage. Andreas was inconsolable. After a few primordial screams, be started crying. He looked like he was in physical pain, I figured that I had worn out my welcome, and quietly excused myself and left. I consider myself a pretty big sports fan, but I am several orders of magnitude away from the European super fan.