When you are married to an English Premier League Football Fan(atic), as the years zip by, you find yourself getting far more knowledgeable about the things of Soccer/football.

You get to know the scores of Arsenal, Manchester United, Real Madrid, Tottenham Hotspurs and so on. You are privy to the tidbits of who has been relegated and who needs the extra points to make the cut.

Of course, you will be in the know of the humourous fact that the Lion in Chelsea’s logo has run away in protest of their bad outing and that José Mourinho their coach has been relieved of his formerly impeccable duties.

The names of footballers become familiar and roll off the tip of your tongue with ease, in such a way that you catch yourself sitting on the edge of your seat, kicking the air along with your husband and two boys and chanting ”come on, come on, come on….” and then yelling Gooooooal like a demented lady when your family team, Arsenal scores or eating your nails to nubs and having butterflies in your stomach during penalty shootouts.

Who knew! I was more a basketball, volleyball, running and tennis kinda girl who watches Roger Federer, Djokovic and Serena with a gleam in my eyes, but years of association has rubbed off and succeeded in turning me into a rabid fan along with my guys; though for me, my fanaticism is only during the Championship.

I am yet to be indoctrinated into developing the desire to watch football everyday – even when they are replays! No Siree!

However, the few live matches that I went to watch with the boys were totally awesome.

The last one was the Houston Cougars at the NRG stadium, Houston downtown October last year.

There is something electrifying and palpable about watching live matches and the chanting of the supporting crowd.

The camaraderie is totally addictive.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

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