During Christmas families across the world converge to feast celebrating the Birth of Christ. Not the case in the football world. The English Premier League at this time is teeming with fixtures and for soccer enthusiasts, it’s the business end of the year. Match after match, it’s football back to back. We fans have our eyes transfixed on the oblong t.v set, ‘tis the season to be jolly. For us, Santa would be a pack of beers or for teetotalers a can of Fanta, quenching our parched throats as we binge watch.
Who’s on form and who’s not ? Who’s scoring goals ? Who’s naught? Competition on Fantasy Premier League is rife, there is no loyalty to your favorite team or player, on that platform every player has to earn his stripes. At the end of the day, it’s all about who reaps big on points, your preference for certain players matters less.
Football just like FPL, is a gamble. The best team doesn’t always win. Sometimes it boils down to chance. The betting man busies himself with the sport, weighing odds, scrutinising heavy weights against underdogs. Arsenal must beat Burnley but will they? He lays his stake on Burnley, the underdogs, who have greater odds and he wins handsomely. But he’s an avid gambler and in gambling complacency won’t do so he parlays his returns onto the next game.
For gamblers, it’s not about the winnings but rather the thrill of foretelling the unseen. Don’t worry about the man who lost his wager, he’ll be back laying a bigger stake because a losing man only seeks redemption. This is the nature of football, despite the many disappointments tied to being a supporter, one can never leave, the beautiful game just draws you back. It gets you hooked. Football is our opium.
Normally the festive season foments fractious relationships in households. Apart from the fights for the remote and quabbles over who gets to watch what. We (fans) have been accused for lacking a sense of occasion and spirituality. Our women occupy themselves with attending church, singing Christmas carols ushering in the birth of Jesus making us men look like infidels. Little do they know that football is our religion and if we won’t watch it at home we’ll congregate at the bar because therein is our Church. And on the 26th of December we’d prefer watching Thiago Alcantara gallop from box to box on boxing day.
Adrenaline pumping to the brim, football gets us on our feet. The EPL end year calendar is not only gripping, it’s high octane – it’s full throttle. Some say we think football is a matter of life and death, well I can assure you it’s more than that.
