KansasCityBlueMoon
New Member
- Joined
- 8 Feb 2023
- Messages
- 1
- Team supported
- MCFC
In high school, in rural Kansas, in the fall of 2001, I read a book about my favorite rockstar called “Touching From A Distance,” and made the decision that Manchester City would be my soccer team. My cousin, who lived in Kansas City (proper) and was able to play the sport while I had to sort out basketball and gridiron football, was an absolute rag. He laughed at me because I couldn’t even watch my club play because America did not show Div 1 matches. I did not care, f em.
As someone who along with his dad attendedevery home game for quite possibly the worst American football college during their worst years of 1992-2004, Kansas University, I did not realize how perfect this union between man and club actually would reveal itself to be. The worse we got, the more we’d lean into this program.
In particular, the gallows humor: as a fan of the generally struggling baseball team the Kansas City Royals, I was immediately familiar. Fans used to call in to local sports talk radio and be as funny as possible with their complaints. Once, I heard a guy get kicked off the show for suggesting that the Royals should trade Johnny Damon (just about a Cancelo) for a horse and a pack of gum. When the host asked “Why is that?” The fan responded “So we can chew the gum while we f* the horse.”
I’m getting flooded with messages from a group chat full of Americans who chose their clubs for reasons just as stupid as mine, but I can tell they don’t feel what I feel. They’re plastic. They talk about glories they never witnessed. I mean there’s a Liverpool fan who didn’t even see their last title talking about the 20th century. A rag so young Ferguson never could have seen him. A spurs fan who doesn’t mind the lack of silverware because he’s older than metallurgy. No Arsenal fans really, because they probably like us now.
Whatever happens, F em. CTID.
As someone who along with his dad attendedevery home game for quite possibly the worst American football college during their worst years of 1992-2004, Kansas University, I did not realize how perfect this union between man and club actually would reveal itself to be. The worse we got, the more we’d lean into this program.
In particular, the gallows humor: as a fan of the generally struggling baseball team the Kansas City Royals, I was immediately familiar. Fans used to call in to local sports talk radio and be as funny as possible with their complaints. Once, I heard a guy get kicked off the show for suggesting that the Royals should trade Johnny Damon (just about a Cancelo) for a horse and a pack of gum. When the host asked “Why is that?” The fan responded “So we can chew the gum while we f* the horse.”
I’m getting flooded with messages from a group chat full of Americans who chose their clubs for reasons just as stupid as mine, but I can tell they don’t feel what I feel. They’re plastic. They talk about glories they never witnessed. I mean there’s a Liverpool fan who didn’t even see their last title talking about the 20th century. A rag so young Ferguson never could have seen him. A spurs fan who doesn’t mind the lack of silverware because he’s older than metallurgy. No Arsenal fans really, because they probably like us now.
Whatever happens, F em. CTID.