i chose.
i am American and was raised on basketball, not soccer football. never played soccer football except in gym class; it was all basketball. i was a pretty lousy baller but i was fairly large so i got some rebounds and knocked some people over, so it was alright by me. i graduated from UNC, yet strangely the team that gave the world Michael Jordan didn't invite me to join as a walk-on. nonetheless i am a loyal Tarheel.
after college i moved to New York. i was doing laundry and saw a world cup match on TV in '94, and was hooked. (i think it was Belgium-Saudi Arabia). i started watching whatever soccer football i could find on cable, including the Prem, Dutch Eredivisie, and Serie A. i immediately fell in love with... Ajax. used to watch Prem matches with a bunch of Irish girls (all rags). i think my loathing for the Red side of Manchester is genetic somehow. used to read footy mags (especially When Saturday Comes) and the sheer smug cuntiness of United cemented my loathing of them. i decided not to have a favorite team in the prem, aside from whoever played the rags, but i found the roller coaster of false dawns, irony and suffering that was City in the 90s great entertainment and the club had my sympathies.
a few years ago when Pearce had imposed his stylish, high-flying brand of football on City, i got in the habit of watching City matches here in Bangkok with a friend from Manchester (a diehard City fan) and eventually signed an oath of loyalty to City. same color shirts as my Tarheels so it wasn't that hard of a sell. it worked out well for everyone; i suspect my pledge of loyalty was instrumental in both City staying up and Frank buying the club.
in a sense then i am one of those glory-hunting armchair fans--but glory at the time i started hunting consisted of staying up.
my life story proves one thing: life stories are over-long, and kinda boring. sorry.