Every match day I go through the ups and downs with the team. I celebrate goals like a mad person and I rue the goals scored against us. I sing with the supporters from my living room. I watched Bayern München crush our last hopes of Champions League football. I drank myself into a stupor just like everybody else that night. I paid a subscription to Charlton Athletic to listen to a feed of the Spurs youth game that TFC attended and sang along in my office here in California. How much more do I have to do to prove that I love the shirt, love the club, know the rules, and love the players for the right reasons?
I know that women are easy targets in this male-dominated world of football, and I’d rather not go into the politics or the greater issue (sorry, Sian Massey), but what I’d like to say is that it isn’t fair that while men get free reign on what they say about players, I’ve got to qualify my own statements.
How much more do I have to do to prove that I love the shirt, love the club, know the rules, and love the players for the right reasons?
My favorite Mexican player is Giovani Dos Santos, whom I had the distinct pleasure of watching play in a Spurs shirt for brief spells in the last few years. I don’t love him because I’m attracted to him, I love him for the amazing performances for my national team; for that brilliant goal against the US in the last Gold Cup final, and for coming off the bench at the Olympics and proving that he was worthy of being there when everyone around me seemed disappointed that Mexico’s golden boy, Chicharito, wasn’t going. I love him for being the playmaker when it mattered most to our country. And in all the love I feel for him there is nothing to do with what he looks like because what the hell does that have to do with football?
I understand that there are women who don’t know much about football and maybe do watch for the wrong reasons, but I’d rather not be punished for something that has nothing to do with me. I don’t want to play the victim, I just want to watch football without having to qualify my reasons. I know the offside rule, and more often than not I call it better than the linesmen on tv or my father (a man!). And you know who taught me the rule?
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