It’s the quadrennial ritual: be an American, watch the World Cup, get swept up into the madness and vow you will find an English Premier League team to support. It didn’t really happen in 2002 for me, but it sure did in 2006, when Setanta Sports dangled temptingly out there with three games a week plus Celtic. Famously, Bill Simmons solicited suggestions and did an exhaustive analysis, winding up as a notional supporter of Tottenham Hotspur (although there was a never-explained dalliance with Newcastle United that went maddeningly unelaborated-upon).
At the time, our household (and by that, I mean myself and my surrogate big sister) settled semi-organically on Newcastle, because they always seemed to be on and because they looked sufficiently interesting (and because we snickered like ten-year-olds every time the play-by-play man said “Rammage, into Butt”). Problem was, they weren’t very good, and went through a succession of managerial changes and ownership chaos before ultimately taking the drop a couple of years later. Meanwhile, Celtic were at the height of the Strachan era, clubbing Rangers with regularity and routinely winning in injury time on the road with a fabulous goal from Venegoor of Hesselink or a deadly free-kick from Nakamura, so I had a tough time latching on when there was a perfectly serviceable Scottish team playing in the Champions League.
Then Strachan went, and Setanta went, and the Bhoys cratered with Tony Mowbray at the controls, and I started sniffing around again. I glanced at Aston Villa, because they had American ownership and Martin O’Neill at the helm, but he went. I thought about Man City, but they suddenly got a filthy-rich sheikh as an owner and turned into Blankcheckster City. I glanced at Everton, but Landon Donovan chose to stay with Galaxy, and I know too many Liverpool fans. I thought I had settled on Fulham, but there are rumblings that Clint Dempsey may not be there for long. And Spurs lurched into the picture again, because their shirt sponsor makes the backup app at work AND they’re the partner club of San Jose Earthquakes AND they’re the first team on ESPN2 this year AND they’re playing in Europe. And sure enough, after the 2010 World Cup, Spencer Hall did the EPL Rootability Index, and the top three teams were Everton, Fulham and Spurs…
I don’t know. I keep wanting it to happen organically again, but I don’t quite know how, short of watching games whenever I can and seeing what grabs me.
But the other thing I remember from that era is that August 2006 is when I went all-in on Vanderbilt. Having fully disavowed my undergrad institution that spring, I made the decision that I was going to *be* a Vanderbilt supporter. And I remember going through quite a bit of mental gymnastics to arrive at a conclusion that let me feel like I was a valid Commodore, and I shoved all my chips in. And that’s sort of how we wound up with the Music City Bowl, and my Vanderbilt jacket, and a VU hat lost in London, and my handle on the masthead at Anchor of Gold. And how I wound up cursing the universe outside the Tank after the Murray State shot, sulking on the couch after the Siena flop, and drinking myself stupid on said sister’s couch after the nightmare this March.
August 2006 was in the middle of the “dull moment.” Honestly, I have said it before, but in a lot of ways I was shot out of a gun at the end of my Vanderbilt career and didn’t come to a full stop until we moved into the house eight years later. I think a lot of the reason that year was so good for me was the relief of just being able to relax – but at the same time, I was still in that void post-2005 of “well if I’m not the man I was, then who am I?” And clearing the decks for Vanderbilt – to the exclusion of undergrad and (very nearly) of my childhood allegiance – was a critical part of answering that question, for a little while at least. So in the grand scheme of things, it worked out for the best.
Now I just have to get around to picking that EPL team. What’s a season or five?