Fortune's Always Hiding

Story time. Once, there was a young boy that lived in Asia for a few years. This young boy grew up in Canada and was something of a soccer (football) fan, but this sojourn in the Far East helped him to focus his fandom. He read some books and had some relatives from the area, so this young boy developed an affinity for Chelsea Football Club. They had a wee little Italian sparkplug and a few genuine English stars. It was great fun, they were in their ascendancy, which was quickened by a very rich oligarch unafraid to splash the bloodmoney from Russia around on big name players.

The team improved and starting winning trophies. Soon though, the whole vibe around the team changed. They spent recklessly, bringing in instantly hate-able jackasses that made it hard to like the team. Then, the bloodmoney Russian owner started pretending like he could be the coach, firing one of the best football minds in the world and replacing him with an unqualified patsy.

Meanwhile, a famous club made its return to the top flight and was fighting for its survival. They had a lot of history and a proud tradition. The young boy found myself pulled towards this team more and more, especially after the exploits of the goofy Russian owner. An incredible run to survive and he was hooked.

Fast forward to Sunday, December 14th, 2008. These two clubs are playing on national television in Canada. The big money team is still a big money team while the wee Italian sparkplug is now the coach of the plucky "working class" team from East London.

As in any sport where there is a massive inequity between the haves and the have nots, it didn't look like much a matchup. But the plucky kids scored first, the supporters sang and sang, and everyone had a great old time. The game finished as a draw, but that won't detract from the enjoyment. Just like it doesn't matter how much money the other teams spend, it doesn't matter if they contine to sign away our best talent, or how hopeless things seem in the offseason.

Already writing the Jays chances off? Good, fuck you. Go watch UFC. Considering abandoning the Jays because they haven't made the playoffs in 15 years? Awesome, continue fucking off. Feeling sorry for yourself because the baseball men don't win more games? Get a life. I'll still cheer and curse, I'll still rush home on Wednesday nights and I'll still care. It's a lot more fun this way.