A high spirited lifetime experience of a sports enthusiast traveler
This is a prose on a short trip last summer where I lived out a fantasy. A fan fantasy. Ecstasy. An almost Childish-Teenage joy experienced by a grown up adult.
Date: July 22, 2023.
Venue: Metlife Stadium, New Jersey, USA
Thrill!! As my teenage favorite sports team Arsenal announced their summer tour to the USA in May 2023.
Anticipation!! As slowly details about the venue come up after the mid week match up against an all star MLS that will happen in Washington DC.
Live!! Ah, the feeling of finally getting to see my team. My Team. In the flesh. In a match. This will be only the second time that I see anyone from Arsenal's first team live, and only the first time to see them playing. The artists and the athletes extraordinaries, in full display of their art.
Younger idols (I am almost the current manager’s age, with the oldest player in the squad a few years younger than me). Though I am allowed to admire them.
For Pushing the limits higher, pushing each other higher.
For working together, towards a collective goal. Goals of the scoring kind and goals of the objective kind.
Atmosphere!!
As I leave my family to undertake this overnight trip, where I can be a bachelor again for a weekend, I am thinking of the atmosphere. The rubbing of shoulders with fellow Gooners (Arsenal supporters and fans).
And so it starts! Right at the Billy bishop airport! A fellow Gooner recognizes the old T shirt I am wearing. Starts chatting about the match and his journey! He has a whole gang of a handful of his office colleagues from New York who have booked a Van to travel to the stadium. I am so engrossed talking with him all the way to the gate check in that I didn’t even realize that I am going on the next flight, so I bid him goodbye and come back to the common waiting area to wait for my flight.
As I enter the small aircraft, I initiate a fist bump with a stranger! First time ever in my usually introverted life. Which is reciprocated! “Go gunners”!!
Here comes Newark Liberty International Airport. Only my 3rd entry to the USA, and for the first time from an airline (Bravo Porter! Amazing beer and snacks collection, included for such a reasonable ticket price, and half of the cost covered through Expedia rewards with my credit card!). As the long immigration queue ends, the friendly but stern expression face of the Immigration lady greets me.
Where are you going? Me: MetLife Stadium.
Where are you going to stay? Which hotel? Me: Nope, I booked a bus ride back…. tonight :D
Lady: (Expression successfully changed to smiling): You guys are a dedicated bunch. (Approval stamped)
I have decided to take public transport in favor of rideshare. Best. decision. ever.
Even as I take the NJ transit from the airport, I see a sea of red shirts, all the way from Secaucus junction. Even the volunteers directing the crowd understand that a big football match is happening today. The soccer kind ;)
Multiple nationalities around me, I hear all possible British accents around me.
Exhilaration!
Train has reached the destination. I see big traffic outside. I wonder how will the scene be here in the 2026 World Cup (At this point I am only aware that the USA will host the 2026 World Cup matches just like my country of residence Canada, but I was not aware that this will be the stadium that is chosen for the grand finale!)
Humongous stadium!
So many levels to go up. Escalators are longer than those found in a few airports.
I have enough time to search for all the eateries to find something that I can eat. Damn! The USA has so many options for junk food! Although very few varieties (I see a hot dog stand that has only one kind of hot dog, when I am used to seeing even a streetside hot dog stall selling 10 different kinds of ‘dogs’). Never mind, I will settle with a cheese pizza of a personal size and a diet cola.
This is such a different perspective from watching on TV. There is no commentator blaring in my ears, although there is nice music during the break, mostly Pop and EDM! And a full view of the ground. And that slightly overweight dude in a black shirt trying to start a Mexican wave, which I gleefully participate in. Thrice.
This is so different, I can actually see the players’ movement away from the ball. I can see that all the 10 outfield players occupy only a small area of the stadium at a time, barely 1/4th. I can still make out which player is who, even from this distance, maybe due to my familiarity with them, maybe due to decent eyesight.
I am sitting in between two groups of multi national families. The one on my right is more friendly among the two and they do talk to me. They asked me a couple of times about the rules of penalties (in a friendly match? Why penalty even though there is no draw in full time). There are plenty of young “influencers” striking a pose with the stadium in the background with some props in their hands. Somehow most of these are from East Asian countries.
There is an Announcement at half time: This is a Record stadium attendance for a soccer match, over 82,000!
The match ends with my team Arsenal losing 2–0 :( and even losing the penalty shootout 5–3 :’(
That’s the only sad part about the whole trip.
But wait, the journey hasn’t ended yet.
High context jokes on the way back. While passing through a bridge over a smelly swamp, somebody in the seat behind me: This place smells like somebody cr***ed their pants. Silence…. Same guy: I said, this place smells like somebody cra***d their pants. Me: Oh you mean like the Manchester United fans when Harry Maguire came on as a sub? (The whole compartment shared a laugh). I surely can’t repeat this joke, especially in front of my family, who won’t understand the nuances and subtilities of this brand of international humor (ok, fine, they don’t watch soccer like I do).
Somebody shared a video clip from a few minutes back in the stadium where a brawl happened between the two sets of fans. Some highly drunk 20 something men engaged in a fist fight before security broke them up. Argh! Rolling Eyes! I am glad no one got seriously injured. I am also happy I didn’t get to see these shenanigans while it was happening.
After getting out of the train station, now I am panicking a bit about the possibility of missing the bus. But as a friendly, well planned poster sign comes up on a pillar, which tells me the destination is just a level up, and I don’t have to catch a cab, as Google kept suggesting, I am content with a smile on my face. Relieved that I will catch my bus back without incidence. Satisfied with sharing an experience with fellow strangers from different races and countries, yet speaking the common language of love for sports. Happy with the whole day replaying in my head.