Miracle Of Miracles

Two things I never thought would ever happen; first, that I would ever go to watch a football match, and two, that I would actually thoroughly enjoy it. I finally kept a long held promise to one of my colleagues that I would go to a football match with him in return for him coming to a baseball game with me. Now I look forward to going to another match.

There were several reasons why I enjoyed the match. One, the atmosphere in the stadium is wonderful; I would still be bored beyond belief if I had to watch more than a few minutes of football on television. Two, having great friends with me who could explain the tactics so that the action on the pitch made sense. They also put the game into context, explaining the recent (woeful) history of Vissel Kobe. Quite simply, they have ploughed a fortune into buying expensive foreign players who have woefully under performed (Vissel Kobe were on a nine game losing streak until today), doubled ticket prices to pay for them and spotlighted those one or two players while practically ignoring the rest of the team which, unsurprisingly, has destroyed any semblance of esprit de corps.

However, the best thing of all, I think, was that Vissel Kobe have on their team what must be one of the most pampered egos in professional sport; I speak of Lukas Podolski. I knew nothing about this man before today. Then, on the giant screen above the pitch, the arrival of the team bus was displayed. All the players got off the bus and walked along a gauntlet of fans who had won the honour of greeting their heroes into the stadium. High fives and smiles between fans and players; all very nice. Oh, but what's this? Where's Podolski? Still on the bus, having a sulk, one presumes. About one minute later he finally gets off, listening to his i-Pod, walks past the gauntlet of fans with one hand in the air so that they can touch his hand while he makes no eye contact with any of them with the grim mug of a petulant youth. Absolutely disgraceful treatment of his fans. 

A few minutes later, while the rest of the team were in the locker room, I assume having some last minute tactical discussions prior to the match, Podolski wanders onto the pitch, strolls around looking at the ground and occasionally kicking the turf while the sheep like Vissel Kobe fans sing Lukas Podolski chants. He didn't acknowledge the fans once as they sang his praises. When they had finished chanting, though, he looked up, waved briefly and then indicated that he wanted another chant which they duly gave him. Immediately, head went down and back was turned on the fans again. This continued until he was finally summoned into the locker room where, of course, he should have been while all this was going on. This summons invoked the first of several Lukas Podolski tantrums. "There's no 'I' in team?" Someone needs to tell Lukas Podolski that, but it won't be the manager of Vissel Kobe who encourages this childish behaviour by giving rewards to Podolski in the hopes that he will behave himself if he gives him enough nice things. 

Oh yes, and Podolski was the only player on the team with a sleeveless shirt. "Look at me, I'm different. Look at my huge biceps!"

On the pitch, whenever he messed up (which he did several times, even though he only came on in the last twenty minutes) he would immediately start yelling at whatever player was closest at hand.

Vissel Kobe had, until today, lost nine consecutive games and my two male colleagues were looking forward to a tenth lose because, in their minds, Vissel Kobe deserve to lose because of the terrible management decisions, such as the increased ticket prices, the pandering to Podolski and the introduction of a highly ineffective cashless regime inside the stadium so that you can only buy concessions and merchandise using a Rakuten cash card (with Rakuten conveniently being the team's main sponsor.) Unfortunately, they didn't get their lose. Perhaps I was a good luck charm for Vissel Kobe because they actually won 4-1 today. 

I can't help it; I'm just blessed (or cursed) I guess.