Withdrawal symptoms are the worst.
You spend the better part of 10 months having a routine and then just like that, it gets taken away from you. You wake up and everything feels the same yet it’s all different.
You can’t look forward to betting spreads because wait, oh yeah, there are none. You don’t spend needless amounts of time computing points in the league table because wait, of yeah, there aren’t any games.
And worst of all, you flip on the TV and look forward to your regularly scheduled game and you see that they’re showing…darts.
That’s what it feels like now that football season is over.
To be fair, there’s still some football being played these days. Norway’s Tippeligaen just got started. So did Sweden’s Allsvenskan. But I don’t care about these leagues. I can’t tell the difference between Molde and Mjallby and tell you what league they play for. I did look it up found out that Molde plays in the Tippelligaen and Mjallby plays in the Allsvenskan.
None of that matters, though, because I know as much about the Hadron Super Collider as I do these two leagues. That’s not saying much because I know little to nothing about that mechanism other than its cameo in Angels and Demons.
The ones I do care about: the EPL, La Liga, the Bundesliga, Serie A, and yes, even Ligue 1, are all on hiatus. Hell, even second-tier leagues that I’ve grown to notice like Belgium’s Jupiler League, the Austrian Bundesliga, and the Danish Superliga are all on break.
Brazil’s Serie A did just start and Neymar plays in that league so I guess that’s a good one to…wait…Barcelona just signed him?
If only my tears could talk.
I suppose that every football (and betting) fan goes through this cyclical state of haplessness, longing for something yet realizing that it’s not coming back for another two months. But even if I can share my despondency with millions of others all over the world, it still doesn’t take away from the sobering reality that the next time I curse at Chelsea for letting Christian Benteke score a first half goal for Aston Villa is still months away from now.
I already miss you, Chelsea, even if you stink at the most inopportune of times. Same goes for for you, Barnet, Tranmere, Celta Vigo, Rennes, Paderborn, and Bologna. I hated all of you during the season – for one reason or another – but I’d give a lot to see you on the pitch again costing me even more money.
If there’s a silver lining to this break, it’s that World Cup qualifiers are taking place. That would’ve satiated my craving for football, but rooting for club and country are two different things. I can be a fan of a club yet still live half a world away. But rooting for a country that’s not my own? That seems unpatriotic and downright sacrilegious.
It also doesn’t help that my national team, the Philippine Azkals, are eons away from even sniffing World Cup qualifiers. They’ve been a lot better of late, which is a victory in our country in its own way. But Azkals and World Cup qualifiers? That’s no closer to happening than Edinson Cavani realizing he’s Filipino and signs up to play for us.
So it’s a rudderless time for me as a football fan. No country to root for in these World Cup qualifiers and no club teams to cheer for every week.
Guess it’s the Tippeligaen and the Allsvenskan then.
La oss gå Molde, selv om du allerede suge!
