ole, ole ole ole

As a first generation born American whose parents hail from Austria and Italy respectively, I grew up a huge soccer fan.

It was more than a love of the game, it was like the game was a part of who I was.

We went to professional games, we all played in the alley during summer nights. I even was the only girl in a soccer league (before they had girl teams).

I loved soccer.

I still do.

I still feel passionate about the game, but not so much like before.

Before, this story here wouldn’t be so shocking to me. In a way, it’s not so shocking because I know–I really know–how passionate people can get about this game. But the absolute horror that occurred? That’s pretty fucking barbaric and unacceptable. And a disgrace to soccer fans around the world.


Daily Prompt: Fandom

8 thoughts on “ole, ole ole ole

  1. I’ll never understand violence and sports — NEVER! Maybe that’s why I’m a fan of books instead of sports. When was the last time an author got stabbed, stoned, or dismembered for writing a bad book? Yet I dare anybody to say I’m any less passionate about books than they are about soccer.

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