For Solskjær

Ok. I’m well prepared for this year’s UEFA champion’s league final (2008) where Man U meets Chelsea, an all-English affair.

Since when did I actually ‘follow’ the English Premier League?

I remember…
Long time ago, my sec sch mates actually watched those matches which I do not have any interest in. I remembered vividly they loved to talk about them (the matches, the players) and I always felt how silly for them to ‘follow’ some happenings someplace somewhere.

However, there was an occasion which allowed me to really feel the impact of the beautiful game. It was in 1999. I was of course, still studying in NTU and staying in the hostel at the west side of Singapore. First, I wasn’t really sure if I did know there was a game that night. I was sure I did not know what I felt like doing, so I started jogging back home. (Crazy?) Yes, I started jogging back home! It was a bit far as I had not done more than a 10km before, (walk maybe but not jog) and I was totally exhausted somewhere in bukit timah. I took a cab from there and reached home in Serangoon in 15 minutes.

After a physical workout, I could not really sleep, so I just switched on the TV after a bath, and there there was the match. I just started watching it since it seemed like some important match. I probably recognised some players like Beckham and Neville etc.

And the rest of the story was written in United’s folklore for generations to come. I remember shouting out loud when Solskjær scored the winner.

I did not know Solskjær as a footballer only after many years later. (And how he embodies the sporting spirit which defined me for a very long time)

That was Solskjær.

Today, as I am writing in this textpattern article entry box, I am going to watch the Champions League Final again. After 9 years! Although it is a different environment altogether, I still remembered how Solskjær brought me my ‘kick’. (The adrenaline rush)

Now I am watching it in the comfort of my own home in Punggol, minutes before the game. I realised, I am no longer the young punk (of course I am not that bad) who dun care nuts about others culture and heritage. I respect those clubs’ history more and watch the games in earnest.

I play the game every sunday now and that game allows me to express the part of me which represented who I was. Who am I now?