In the past four months, I have been fortunate to attend many different football matches here in London. From a European Champions League to Premier League games, I was able to see a variety of high-quality football.
However, this past weekend, I attended a football match of a very different kind. I traveled out to southeast London with some friends to catch a contest between AFC Wimbledon and Chelmsford City, two teams playing in the Ryman League Premier Division. The Ryman League is located at the eighth level of English football - think single-A baseball in the United States compared to the Major Leagues - and is worlds away from anything I have ever experienced. Yet, by the end of the day, I had to say it was probably the most memorable football game I have attended here.
The first indication that I was "not in Kansas anymore" was the location of the stadium. Although the team is named after the Wimbledon region (yes, the same place as the world-famous tennis tournament), it is actually 45 minutes outside of Wimbledon.
Once you finally get to the stadium, you find yourself at something looking just like a local high school field, with one covered bleacher stand and three areas of standing room around the outside of the pitch. This was clearly a field the high rollers of Chelsea or Manchester United would never dream of playing on.
After getting over the shock of the stadium design, I focused my attention to the action on the field. Again, not much better than your local high school or college team. There were sloppy passes and mistimed runs, errors that even a youth team in the United States would know better than to make.
Thinking this was the worst game I had ever been to, my attitude began to change when I realized exactly what I was looking at. While this wasn't Premier League quality, it was still passionate.
The athletes standing before me on this dinky field were not earning even a one-hundredth of what the big boys were earning. But they had passion. They ran after every ball and hustled from the kick-off to the final whistle. It was definitely a refreshing change from watching a game at the professional level.
However, the best part of the game, and what left a lasting impact on me, was the crowd of fans. This crowd had the dedication it takes to cheer on a team located in the depths of English football.
Their chants and songs were undying. Home fans continued to say, "Come on, you Dons!" (Short for Wimbledon) and away supporters sang, "You may not believe us, but we are going to win the league," sung to the tune of "He's A Jolly Good Fellow." Watching these people yell and scream for players that will never make it to the Premier League was something I will never forget.
After seeing football played at all levels in London, from the over $1 billion cathedral of Wembley National Stadium to the bandbox home of AFC Wimbledon, aptly named Cherry Red Records Fans' Stadium, I came to see the true meaning of sports. It's not about where you play - it's about the passion you play with.
