Why do you watch football? Asking you a serious, genuine question.
It's one I tend to think about during the dog days of any international break (seriously, pick one) although this particular two-week rest actually wasn't that bad -- if you just focus on the actual games and not, say, on the raft of awful off-pitch stories.
I think about it during every little rare breath between games, transfer rumors, news reports, context-less quotes, own goals, scandals, injuries and FIFA.
Ultimately, my pull is emotional. I don't hold football players in high moral regard, nor do I expect them to educate my children for me. I don't expect those in governance to do what's best for the game and the people who are connected to it. I doubt that serious topics like concussion reform, corruption, abuse or the various nefarious loopholes in the transfer market will ever conclude in a satisfying manner. Those struggles will always be there, stuck in a frustrating stasis of half-solutions and short-term thought.
So I look to the action itself and it doesn't take long to be reminded of why I started going to games at age 6, never looking back.
The obvious connectors were familial: it was a trip I would take with my father on those weekends I got to spend with him. The drive, the agony of finding parking, the brisk walk to the stadium -- even if it was the then-crumbling edifice of Highfield Road to watch Coventry City host Liverpool (and beat them 1-0).
Taking it a step further, the visceral thrill of a great goal in 2014 gets me the same way it did in 1991. Not even via a great bit of skill, either -- circumstance is as much a cause for celebration. (Sad, but true that one of my all-time fave goals came in the 1991 UEFA Cup Third Round, second leg between Liverpool and AJ Auxerre. In your face, Guy Roux!)
Following sports (especially football) is broadly an intense, tribal affair -- you have a team, you stick with it NO MATTER WHAT -- but in the modern era, fandom is more negotiable, more fluid. You are drawn in by a player, you follow that player, you marvel in them. A much simpler (and more fun) way to do it.
We've asked some of our ESPN FC writers to offer their thoughts on the leagues they love over the coming days but as my bitter personal territories continue to subside, I took some time to consider why I watch. In that, I've found myself coveting those moments more than any provided by the team I grew up with.
This own goal by Carl Jenkinson. The game itself didn't matter but he did. Chris Kamara, a permanently confused treasure of any English sideline.
Zlatan Ibrahimovic. Roger Milla's corner flag shimmies during Italia '90, joyous acts that enlivened easily the worst World Cup ever. Cameroon beat defending champion Argentina and should have beaten England that year, too.
Japan's powerful victory at the 2011 Women's World Cup, an incredible penalty shoot-out victory over the U.S. just four months after the earthquake and tsunami that killed nearly 16,000 people.
Oh, and this vine. It makes no sense, but it doesn't have to.
Let's see, some players. (Spot the theme.) Charlie Adam. He doesn't look like he should be playing football but hey, there he is, cloaked in fury and swear words amid Stoke's midfield. And Dirk Kuyt, the greatest player who ever lived. I shall brook no counter-argument. Or how about Matthew Le Tissier. Yes? The chubby Channel Islander should have been a legend. 16 years at Southampton and not a single medal, cup, accolade to his name, but who cares when he can score goals like these?
Steve McClaren trying to sound Dutch. Forget Lionel Messi vs. Ronaldo; give me Juan Roman Riquelme any day.
I still have my deep-seated allegiances, but the whole dizzying tapestry is blissfully imperfect but full of emotion. It's why I've watched for three decades. And I probably always will.