My Inner Hooligan

Last year, my friend Paul and I became Vancouver Whitecaps seasons ticket holders. Our goal for the season, beyond just being able to tell people that we were seasons ticket holders, (does it matter for what?) was to find our inner hooligan. I'm not talking about your drunken-violent- throw-a- burning-moped-on-the-pitch sort of hooligan, more your mildly-buzzed-question-the referee's- parentage-throw-your-empty-beer-cups-on-the-grass-behind- the-goal-remind-the-opposing-goalkeeper-of-his-weight-problem- and-that-he-was-born-out-of-wedlock type hooligan. Now, I have a shaved head, so add to that my Whitecaps jersey and scarf and you'd think it shouldn't be much work. But I tend to be fairly quiet, I don't really shout or sing in public and I certainly don't litter. The easy solution was, of course, appropriate amounts of hooligan juice. Warsteiner tends to be my favourite, though the Guinness will do just as well. The first couple of games, I stood with the other hooligans and hopefuls, sipped my beer, looked on amused as they chanted, tried to mouth a few words then quietly snuck over to the garbage can to deposit my empty cup. With time I was able to start to vocalize and harmonize along. I could even anticipate what songs or chants would be up next. I think my big breakthrough came though, not in the singing front, but with the garbage. It was a few games into the season and I think I realized that it was time for the next step. Or maybe I was just feeling lazy. I think Paul, standing beside me, realized the significance, as rather than skulking off to the bin, I sailed my empty beer cup over the head of those in front of me and on to the swath of grass behind the net and in front of the boards. Mission accomplished. As the season wore on, and the hooligan juice continued to flow, I became more comfortable with the yelling, chanting, jeering, screaming and even the littering. I may have even initiated a chant or two. Sometime mid-season my buddy J-Mac started attending games. After our first round of calling the opposing goalkeeper a fat bastard he turned to me and said, "That's the funnest thing I've done all week." And he was right.

Throughout the winter, my inner hooligan has been lying dormant. The season opener is just 2 weeks away, my tickets are in the mail, so I guess it's time to start waking him up. Come on you Whitecaps!