The Strange Soccer Effect

Soccer has a strange effect on me (in case the post title didn't make that clear). My fiancé would say that I hate it, don't enjoy it, roll my eyes every time he puts it on tv and grab my 50 Shades of Grey (I know, I still haven't finished it, what is wrong with me!?). For the most part, he is right. I can't stand to watch more than two or three minutes at a time of the sport.

However, something really strange happens every four years. When we are talking about the FIFA World Cup, I become a MAJOR fan. And by major, I mean that I will watch every single game passionately, scream, jump, bite my nails, memorize every single score, know EXACTLY how many points each team has and how many more they need in order to move to further rounds. Colombia hasn't even gone to the last four World Cups, yet I have always found a team to cheer for and watched just as obsessively.

The last time Colombia went to a World Cup I was nine, and I remember almost every single game (the important parts of them at least). That is how big this event is for me. Don't ask me why, it surprises me just as much because in every other match, be it UEFA Champions League or whatever, I have no clue which team is which.

After sixteen years, it was about time we made it to the championship again. I made a point of watching every game of the classifiers and cheer my country, and wait for a miracle. Last week, we were only two games and one point away from classifying. The game was against Chile. Two of our very best friends are Chileans, so we started a little Whatsapp war early on, which went something like "Is Chile ready to get their asses kicked by us today?" and "you chickens, with your chicken-yellow shirts" and all sorts of lame (and playful) stuff. Then the game started. Eleven minutes in and Chile scores a goal. The texts didn't take more than a millisecond to come. I glance angrily at my phone. On the twentieth minute, another goal from Chile. I get a little angrier. 25 minutes into the first half, and Chile scores their THIRD goal. Furious, I grab my phone and type "not watching anymore. Let me know if anything interesting happens". I literally leave the room, turn the tv off, and stop watching. So petty...

Almost an hour later, I turn the tv on, interested in the score since my phone has been awfully quiet. Imagine my surprise when I see that it is already 36 minutes into the second half, and Colombia has already scored two goals! And that's when I completely lose it. There is actually a chance that we might not be so miserably defeated, after all! I run and grab my Colombia shirt. I send smug texts to the Chileans. I ask my fiancé, screaming, if he is seeing what I'm seeing.

I have not been watching the second half for more than five minutes when there is a penalty in favor of Colombia. I am 100% certain that my heart is going to jump off my chest. I squeeze my fiancé's hand so hard I almost break it. The player kicks the ball.... and scores our third goal, seven minutes before the end of the game! I don't think my fiancé had ever seen me go completely ballistic before, until that very second. The bright side to this is that now he is going to marry me knowing all my different phases, even my gone-completely-insane-jumping-up-and-down-like-a-mad-woman one.

My mood went from being super grumpy, annoyed and pissed off, to an excitement level of around 18 -on a scale from 1 to 10- in the space of ten minutes. And all because of a soccer game. Go figure.

My fiancé has already expressed his concern about how frantic I will get when the Cup starts, if I felt so strongly about the classifiers... well, he still has a year to prepare... I cannot make any promises.

Does this also happen to any of you out there, or am I the only weird specimen that can only stand soccer when the match is related to the World Cup?